About Three Authors

by Patti Roberts

  Becky stared at her, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She unfolded her arms, folded, and then unfolded them again. She slowly shook her head from side to side. “I’m so, so sorry, Felicity. I didn’t know. Jesus. I’m really, really sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Felicity tilted her head to one side. “Oh, yeah. Like play the cancer sympathy card? That’s never been my style. I’m only telling you now because I don’t know what else to do to get through to you. I’m not the enemy, Becky.”

  Becky looked around the filthy apartment. “Look. Can I get you a cup of tea, coffee, cold water? Beer?” She stood up, yanking her pyjama bottoms up again. “I thought your hair was really beautiful, by the way… I mean, I still do… I was so jealous of your hair. I was jealous of a lot of things, actually.” She shrugged. “I’m really, really sorry.”

  Felicity shook her head, waved for Becky to sit back down. “I’m fine, thank you.”

  Becky sat back down on the sofa and asked the question that had been stewing in her mind the moment she had met Felicity. “Were you having an affair with my dad before my mother died?”

  Felicity looked horrified. “Good heavens, no. Victoria introduced me to William in the hospital. I mentioned to your mum that I was looking for a job. And apparently, William was looking to hire someone in his office so he could spend more time taking care of your mum, so Victoria made an executive decision and hired me. She really didn’t give your dad much of a say in the matter. I started work the next day, and I’ve been working there ever since.” Felicity looked down at her hands, then back up to Becky, looking her squarely in the eye. “I had your mother’s blessing to marry your dad, by the way.”

  Becky’s shot Felicity a suspicious look. “My mother gave you her blessing to marry my dad? I don’t think so. My mother loved my dad.”

  “Your mother could be a very intuitive, and a very persuasive woman when she wanted to be. And it was because she loved your dad so much that she did what she did. She gave us her blessing.”

  “Forgive me, but I have to tell you that I find it very difficult to believe that my mother wanted my father to marry you,” Becky said, pulling a cushion onto her lap and hugging it against her chest.

  Felicity nodded. “You know, I could really use that beer.”

  “Oh. Okay. Sure.” Becky sprang to her feet, tossing the pillow on the sofa. She returned with two bottles of beer and handed one to Felicity. “I’ll just grab you a glass.”

  “Don’t worry about the glass, the bottle is just fine.”

  Becky nodded approvingly, then sat back down, folding her legs up beneath her.

  Felicity unscrewed the bottle cap and continued with her story. “Victoria started inviting me over for dinner, to discuss business, she said, but it was really just a ploy to see how William and I got along outside work.”

  “I don’t get it,” Becky said.

  “Because Victoria didn’t want your father to be alone when she…” Felicity words drifted away. She took a long drink from the beer bottle.

  “Your mother wanted me to look after your father so he wouldn’t be alone. She couldn’t bear the thought of William being miserable and locking himself away for the rest of his life. Victoria decided somewhere along the way that we were perfect for each other. That I could make your father happy again, and, well, after a time, I realized she was right. Absolutely right. I fell head over heels for your father. I know you don’t want to hear that, and I know you probably don’t believe it, but I did. I really love him, Becky. And your dad feels the same way as I do. I want to spend the rest of my life making him happy. He is the kindest, most loving man I’ve ever known. And I promise you that nothing, absolutely nothing, ever happened between us for months after your mum died. It eventually just happened all on its own, just as Victoria said it would.”

  Felicity looked down at the bottle in her hand, then wiped the condensation off the side of the bottle. She looked up shyly, an awkward smile on her face. “I remember that night I first met you at dinner. I couldn’t stop prattling on, I was so nervous about meeting you. I just wanted you to like me, to accept me. I knew I was talking too much, but I couldn’t help it. I do that when I get nervous, talk too much, like I am now.” She smiled. “Anyway, Victoria warned me that you’d be a tough nut to crack. She told me she would talk to you, explain everything to you, but after that dinner, I knew that she hadn’t, and I knew you would never believe me if I tried to tell you, so I didn’t. William said to give you space, that in time you would eventually come around.” She looked down at the beer in her hand again, then took a drink. “Between you and me, I wouldn’t believe me either. I know it’s one hell of a big ask for you to trust that I’m telling you the truth.”

  Becky had another drink. “You’re right. It is one hell of a big ask, so why should I believe you? How do I know you’re not just some gold digger, after Dad for his money?”

  Felicity snorted into her hand. “I’m an only child, Becky, with very wealthy parents and a very healthy trust fund. Trust me, I don’t need your father’s money. My friends advised me to take out a prenuptial to protect my money. So you really don’t have to worry about your father’s money, or your inheritance.”

  Becky blushed and tugged on her grubby t-shirt. “Sorry,” she blurted, then took a long drink on the beer bottle. “So why did you need a job working for my dad?”

  “Why? Because I’ve worked my entire adult life; it makes me feel useful and productive. Plus, sitting around with nothing to do when I got sick just made it worse. I needed something to keep my mind busy, otherwise I think I would have given up a long time ago. The few hours working with your dad each day suited me just fine, and I could work my hours around my treatments.”

  “I’ve really not given you a fair chance, have I?”

  “Not really. But I totally understand your concerns. You love your dad, and you were worried about him.” Felicity picked her bag up off the sofa and rummaged through it.

  Becky looked at the bag. “So I suppose that’s a real Chanel handbag?”

  Felicity nodded, then handed Becky an envelope. “This is for you. It’s from Victoria. I found it when I pulled the bed away from the wall to vacuum the other day. It must have fallen down behind the bedside table. That’s why I’ve only just found it. There was one for me, too.”

  Becky stared at the envelope in her hand for a long time. She put the beer bottle down, then peeled the envelope open with one finger.

  Felicity stood up and went into the kitchen, rolled up her sleeves, then filled the sink with hot water. She added the dirty plates and coffee cups.

  Becky dragged her eyes reluctantly off the letter and looked up at Felicity. “You don’t need to do that.”

  “I know. But I really want to. I should have told you. I also have a touch of OCD. Besides, it’ll give me something to do while you’re reading your letter.”

  “Dad must be driving you mad when he leaves all of his newspapers lying around.” Becky smiled at the thought, then went back to unfolding the paper and began reading the handwritten letter from her mother.

  My beautiful Becky, you’re reading this because I am dead. Yup, dead as a door nail. I tried to beat the cancer, I really did, but it wasn’t meant to be. The hardest part about having cancer is knowing that you are going to leave behind the people you love the most in the world. It grieves me knowing that leaving you will cause you and your father pain. If there was anything I could do to prevent that, I would. Will you please spend just a short time grieving for me, and a long, happy and productive life living for me? Will you do that for me, Becky?

  Now, there is something else that I have wanted to tell you for a very long time, but I could never find the right moment, or the right words. Your father wanted to tell you, but I forbade him. I told him that it was something that I wanted to do, in my own time, but when the years passed all too quickly, I realized there was never going to be a right time. Not because a right time never arose,
but rather, because I was a coward. I could never bring myself to tell you that I was not your biological mother, that your dad was not your biological father. There. I have said it. I am so sorry. It must be such a shock finding out like this, in a letter, but you see, I just couldn’t bear to see you look at me in any way other than as your mother.

  Right now, I imagine you are probably wondering who your real mother and father are.

  Let me start with your mother, Elise Edler, who is one of the most loving, selfless people I have ever known. Elise was so young when she had you, and although she loved you with all her heart, her life at the time could never have allowed her to give you the love and attention you deserved. Elise, you see, was living with an abusive, alcoholic mother, who required round-the-clock attention. Her father, who had been a pilot with a two pack a day cigarette habit, was very rarely home. After a long sickness, her father eventually died from lung cancer, just after you were born. This is not a story Elise shares with the world, but I can assure you that it is the truth. You see, Elise believed it was her duty to look after her parents, and she didn’t want you growing up in such a terrible environment. She wanted the best for you. She wanted you to have the life she never had.

  Please don’t think that Elise has never wanted you to know about her, because she did, very much. Do you remember that lovely doll you got for Christmas when you were four years old, and the lovely lady that visited? That was your Elise, your mother. The two of you sat on the sofa and watched The Never Ending Story all Christmas Day. Elise cried so hard the next day, when she hugged you goodbye and handed you back to me. The memory still breaks my heart when I think about it. We have stayed in touch over the years with…

  With salty tears running down her cheeks, Becky continued reading. She learned that Felicity had been telling her the truth about how Victoria had basically thrown William and Felicity together, and how she couldn’t bear the thought of William being alone for the rest of his life. That she had spoiled William rotten, and how he would need a good woman to take care of him after her death.

  The last words on the letter read, To err is human; to forgive, divine. I hope you can forgive me, Becky, for all the hurt that I have caused you by keeping the truth from you all these years, and for not allowing you the opportunity of growing up knowing your beautiful mother, Elise. That is the part I regret the most – please tell Elise I am so very sorry for taking that away from both of you. Alright. I have said my piece, and although there is so much more I would like to tell you, I am feeling so tired and must rest now. I will try and write some more tomorrow. Rest assured, my dear girl, that I will be watching over you always, and I promise to love you to the stars and back – forever. And if you should see a bright star blinking at you on a starry night, that will be me. Love, Mum. xxx

  PS: One more thing. Please rethink marrying Roger. I think he is a tosser. Oh, and use all the good plates, it’s not as though I can take them with me. x

  After reading and re-reading the letter which was now dotted with teardrops, Becky folded it up and set it down on the coffee table. She stared at it for a long moment, sniffing, hiccupping, and wiping her nose on the back of her pyjama sleeve.

  Felicity walked up behind her and sat a hand gently on her shoulder. “Here, take this,” she said softly, handing Becky a handkerchief with WJ embroidered in one corner.

  Becky traced the initials with her fingertips, remembering how she’d watched her mother embroidering them a hundred times. She dropped her head and sobbed into the pink paisley fabric.

  Felicity sat down next to Becky, one arm wrapped over her shoulder. “It will be alright,” Felicity said. “Your mother loved you so much. But she would want you to get on with your life. She wouldn’t want you to be sad all the time.”

  Becky leaned her head onto Felicity’s shoulder, then wrapped her arms around her. They stayed like that for the longest time, Becky crying in Felicity’s arms, until there were no more tears to cry.

  “I’m okay,” Becky whispered a short time later, as another hiccup erupted from her lips. She sat up and took a good long breath. “I should ring Elise,” she said. “Tell her about mum’s letter.” She checked her watch and calculated the time difference. “Well, maybe not right now; she’ll still be asleep.”

  “Why don’t you have a nice long bath while I organize us some dinner?” Felicity suggested.

  Becky looked at her dubiously from beneath hooded eyelids. “You’re going to cook dinner?”

  Felicity shook her head feverishly. “Don’t be ridiculous. I thought I’d order in. I see you have a stack of take-away menus on the fridge. Wouldn’t want to mess up that nice clean kitchen.

  Becky glanced over her shoulder towards the spotless kitchen. “Wow. Great job. Thank you.”

  “It was my pleasure,” Felicity said, folding her hands into her lap. “And just so you know, I have enrolled in some cooking classes. I start next week.”

  “I’m sure Dad will be very glad to hear that,” Becky said without sarcasm.

  “Oh, please don’t tell him,” Felicity said. “It’s a surprise. Taking cooking lessons was your mother’s idea, by the way.”

  Becky swiped two fingers across her tightly sealed lips, then threw an imaginary key over her shoulder. “It’ll be our secret,” she said. “Can you do something else for me?”

  “Name it,” Felicity replied.

  “Will you call Grandma, Dad and Uncle Steve, and invite them over for a family dinner? I think it’s well overdue, and the four of us have a lot of catching up to do.”

  “On one condition,” Felicity said, her chin held high as she began to roll up her sleeves again.

  “What’s that?” Becky asked, standing and hitching up her pyjama bottoms.

  “You and I are going shopping tomorrow and I’m buying you a new pair of pyjamas, but right now, tell me where you keep your garbage bags and vacuum cleaner. You do have a vacuum cleaner, don’t you?” she asked, smiling.

  Chapter 20

  The Secret Of Change.

  The family dinner had gone great. William and Uncle Steve had arrived with beer and wine, while Grandma produced her famous homemade apple pie. They had all hugged and cried, and toasted Victoria numerous times over a Thai takeaway dinner, which Grandma would later say kept her awake half the night with indigestion.

  At ten-thirty that evening, with everyone perched around the kitchen table - except Grandma, who was sound asleep on the sofa, and Felicity, who was busy washing up in the kitchen - Becky dialled the number for the retreat while chewing nervously on her thumbnail.

  Elise had answered on the fifth ring. “Good morning, this is Elise speaking. You’ve called The Lakeside Retreat. How may I help you?”

  Becky, who’d instantly burst into tears as she heard Elise’s voice, shoved the receiver into Uncle Steve’s hand while she regained her composure. When Becky did eventually take back the receiver, she spoke to Elise for a good hour or more. Becky gave her heartfelt apologies to both Mallory and Polly for her bad manners, and thanked them all again for their wonderful hospitality, promising to return in the very near future.

  “Not if I don’t visit you first,” Elise had said, which Becky and Uncle Steve both agreed was a marvellous idea.

  No one mentioned Gary’s name, and Becky thought it was probably better that way. She had heard Monty barking in the background several times though, and had wondered if Gary was there.

  After the last of the tearful farewells were said, they all joined Grandma, who was still sound asleep, on the sofa to watch the end of Summer Holiday, staring a very young Cliff Richard.

  Becky leaned forward to look at her father and smiled. He winked back at her, then mouthed “thank you”. Felicity had her head rested on his shoulder. Becky sat back, resting her head on the back of the sofa. Uncle Steve brought mugs of hot chocolate in from the kitchen on a tray, and sat it down on the polished coffee table.

  “Thank you,” Becky said, taking one from him.
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  So much had changed in the past year, especially in the last two weeks, and she sensed that there were still many more changes to come - the good and the bad - and it was up to her as to how she would deal with them when they did.

  What was it her mother used to say? “The secret of change is to focus all of your energy, not on fighting the old, but on building the new.” Sometimes that was very hard to do, but she was determined to give it a go.

  Two days later, when Becky had just finished doing her hair, the doorbell rang. She had called Felicity the day before and had arranged for the two of them to go out for lunch and do a bit of shopping.

  She ran to the door and pulled it open enthusiastically. “You’re early-” Her eyes shot open wide as she stared, not into Felicity’s face, but into a huge bunch of pink roses. Her hand flew to her open mouth. “Oh, they’re beautiful, Clive. But you shouldn’t have, really. “Come on in.” She walked hurriedly into the kitchen and pulled open a cupboard door, “I’ll just grab a vase for them.” She walked to the sink and filled up the vase. “I’m just waiting for Felicity. We’re going out for lunch. You want to join us?” When there was no response, she turned around to find the doorway empty. She looked around the apartment. No Clive.

  “What the heck?” She walked to the open door and peered out. The roses were on the ground. The hallway was empty. She leaned down and picked up the roses, then discovered a small card tucked between the stems. She took it out, turned it over, and then read the note.

  Some see a weed, I see a wish. You wanted to know what I wished for. I wished for you, Becky Jensen! Love, Gary. x