Finding Elizabeth

by Louise Forster

The shock hit home, and Katherine doubled over as if someone had punched her in the stomach. She sucked air into her lungs. The groans coming from her throat hardly registered.

  “Katy?” Margaret stood, reaching out to comfort her.

  Katherine backed away. “Why, why?!” The pain churning in her stomach became unbearable. She paced back and forth, eyes fixed on her mother. “All these years you kept this from me.” The memories, mere snippets of time she hadn’t been able to get a grip on, flooded back. Her mother commenting on her eyes: They’re just like your father’s, such a lovely shade. Katherine had laughed: But my eyes are blue, and Dad’s are brown. She remembered her mother’s expression had paled and she’d looked away, attending to her sewing. Not the colour, dear, she had said, the shape, of course. Which, at the time, also seemed wrong, but she’d shrugged it off and said, Well, you must see things I don’t. If her mother hadn’t looked so sad at the time, Katherine might never have remembered those moments.

  Years of Katherine’s life rolled like a film in her mind’s eye—her father Henry as he lifted her up to place the angel on the Christmas tree. Running beside her when he taught her how to ride her first bicycle, and how to skate on the frozen pond for the first time.

  Oh god, yes, it all came back to her now. There’d been a time in her teens when, early one summer afternoon, she had walked inside, her feet bare, silent, and heard her parents talking. Her father had said, You have to tell Kate. She has the right to know who her— As soon as he’d seen Katherine, he’d stopped. Tell me what, Dad? she’d asked brightly, curious. Her mother changed the subject. Katherine distinctly remembered her father’s unhappy expression and how, shaking his head, he had walked away.

  “Mum! Why did you keep this from me? Why?!”

  Margaret straightened, her face wet with tears. “I didn’t have Andrew any more, but at least I had you.” Her mother sniffed and wiped her nose and face. “For the first few years, I kept his memory alive. I’d look at my growing belly and tell you what your dad was like. After you were born, I just kept telling you. There were times when I’d begin to cry. When you were about three, you’d get upset as well and ask me what the matter was; I had to stop for both our sakes. There wasn’t anything I could do; you can’t bring back the dead. I had to put an end to grieving. I forced myself to move on. Henry and I married about a year later.” She ran her fingers over the ribbons that tied the letters. “These are your hair ribbons from when you were a toddler, up until the time I married Henry. After that, I put the tin away in the attic and never touched it again.” Margaret sighed. “Pierre urged me to tell you. Your dad wanted me to tell you as well.”

  Katherine’s world tilted, her heart ached. “So why didn’t you?”

  “You know, the longer you leave something the harder it is to deal with.”

  “I don’t know what to say or think.” Suddenly it didn’t seem that difficult to drop her bombshell. Angry, devastated, she glared at her mother who looked so frail, so sad. Katherine closed her eyes. Her mother didn’t deserve a vindictive bitch for a daughter. Given the same circumstances, what would she have done?

  “Andrew is alive, Mum—alive!” Katherine ran to the vestibule, shoved her arms into her coat, grabbed her bag and ran out the door.

  “Katy!” she heard her mother’s frantic call.

  But Katherine refused to stop.

  It was good to be home in the comfort of her apartment. Away from a cabin full of memories so she could sort out the mess in her mind. The phone rang and Katherine jumped. She walked to where it hung on the wall next to the kitchen bench, let it ring out, and then took the receiver off the hook. Moving to the picture window, she gazed at the snow-covered vista below, the past threatening to overwhelm her. If her mother had kept the tin all these years, did that mean she’d never stopped loving Andrew Riley—even after death? Had she ever stopped grieving for him? And what about Andrew? After all these years, it was obvious he still loved her mother. She sat by her window trying to come to grips with Andrew Riley—her biological father.

  A knock on the door startled her. She peered down the dim hallway. Another knock, louder this time. Heart pounding, muscles tense, she made her way silently down the hall. She steeled herself, peeped though the security lens and breathed a sigh of relief.

  Lea. Katherine quickly opened the door.

  “Oh thank god,” Leandra flung her arms around Katherine. “You must drive like the wind.”

  Despite herself, Katherine managed a smile. “I don’t know how I got here. Scary thought, huh?”

  Leandra brushed a lock of stray hair away from Katherine’s face and cupped her cheeks, her expression serious. “You’ve had one hell of a year so far, but there’s a new one around the corner, and it’s going to be better than this,” she finished with a wink.

  “It bloody better be better,” Katherine muttered, closing the door. “Oh God, I can’t talk properly.”

  They sat on the sofa together and Leandra took Katherine’s hand, holding it firmly. “Your mum rang Pierre, and he rang me.”

  “How’s Mum?”

  “Distraught.”

  She placed her hand on Leandra’s knee and closed her eyes, utterly miserable. “I’m sorry Lea, didn’t mean to have you and everyone worry.”

  “You’ve been a worry since playgroup.” Leandra laughed softly. “But hey, I don’t know what all the fuss is about.”

  Katherine took a deep breath. “They didn’t tell you?”

  “I wish somebody would. So come on, tell me what?”

  There wasn’t a way of easing the enormity of this news.

  “Andrew Riley is my biological father.”

  “WHAT?! Get outta here!” Leandra’s eyes were huge, and her mouth gaped. “Nooo!”

  A tear trickled down Katherine’s cheek. Leandra threw her arms around her, and they held each other tight, gently rocking, crooning while Katherine wept.

  “I need tissues.” Katherine finally pulled back.

  “Me too.” Leandra plucked them out of a box on the table, sniffed and added, “That’s so hard to believe.”

  “Yes,” Katherine sighed. “But true.”

  “I need a drink.” Leandra stood. “Don’t suppose you’ve got wine—whiskey?” Katherine shook her head. “Didn’t think so. I’ll make us a cup of coffee.” She walked into the kitchen and filled the jug. She frowned at Katherine. “Why did you leave? Why didn’t you stay and sort it out with your mum?”

  “It was … I don’t know. I needed to get away. I couldn’t think at the cabin. My brain still feels like mashed potato.”

  “And it probably will for a while.” Leandra ambled over with the hot coffee and put the cups on the table.

  “What did your mum say about Andrew?”

  “She loved him deeply. They were going to marry.” Katherine shrugged. “I don’t know if I can even meet Andrew. I’m torn—you know? Henry Bell … my dad.” She cupped her hands, pleading for understanding. “It would feel like I was betraying him.”

  “That’s impossible, so just trash that notion, right now. If you want my opinion—well, you’re going to get it anyway. Whatever your private feelings are, you owe Andrew something. You’re here because he poked your mum.”

  “Oh!” Katherine screwed her face up. “Don’t even go there.”

  “You should go and see him.” Leandra inclined her head. “This is not a catastrophe, you know. I grant you, it’s almost worse than a soap opera, but …” her eyes filled with tears and her mouth trembled. “You’re so lucky, you have two dads. For a fleeting moment, I almost had one.”

  “What’re you talking about?”

  “Dave has been helping Jack search and, through his sources, he thought there was a chance I might be Andrew’s daughter. And I was this close to believing him.” Leandra held up her thumb and index finger. “But the names were wrong, and anyway, my dad was a Yank.”

  “Lea, what a selfish bitch you must think I am.”

  Lean
dra waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Nah, testy and so annoying, but never bitchy.” They laughed, and the heavy atmosphere eased. “When you think about it, we’ve both been robbed.”

  “Mum has, too,” Katherine realised.

  Leandra leaned forward. “What about Jack?”

  “I can’t deal with him right now. Is he still in Spruce Valley?”

  “Nope, he’s here in Calgary, wearing a track in Dave’s carpet.”

  “When I’m ready, I’ll have to tell Jack what I’ve found. And that will be it, he’ll go home with great news for Andrew.” Katherine gave a resigned shrug.

  “Aw, Kate! The man loves you.”

  “Huh? Infatuated maybe. We barely know each other.”

  “I know, but I can tell,” Leandra grinned. “Trust me. I’m good with other people’s relationships, it’s my own I stuff up.”

  “No. The guys stuff it up. You just haven’t found the right one—or have you?”

  “I think it might be different this time.” Leandra smiled eyes bright. “I love him; have for a long time, just didn’t know it because he pissed me off so much.”

  “Yes, I can understand that.” Katherine pursed her lips against a smile.

  “What are you going to do now?” Leandra asked, sipping her coffee.

  “Have a long hot shower and sort myself out.”

  “Before you do anything else, ring your mum.” Leandra pulled out her mobile.

  “I can’t do it now, Lea,” Katherine protested. “I’ll do it when I’m alone, no distractions.”

  “I’m not ringing your mum,” Leandra said. “I’m ordering you a pizza. Otherwise you won’t eat.”

  Katherine opened her mouth to protest, but Leandra slapped her hand over it, and made the order. “Once you smell the delicious aromas, you won’t be able to help yourself.” She stood and took the coffee cups back to the kitchen. “I’d love to stay and help you eat it, but I’m going to leave so you can make that call.” Leandra kissed her cheek and left.

  Jack’s mobile rang and he pressed the hands-free button. “Yeah!”

  “I got your message, Jack. Where the hell are you?” Leandra demanded good-naturedly.

  “Lea!” he sighed, grateful she’d returned his call. “I hate to break this to you, but the chicken scratchings you call a map is at odds with my direction finder, and I’m driving around in circles.”

  “Not possible in Calgary,” Leandra giggled. “This is priceless: a man asking for more directions to his girlfriend’s house from his girlfriend’s friend.”

  “Despite your dig, I do like the sound of that,” Jack said, keeping an eye out for Glenmore Park. “I hope Katherine’s okay.”

  “I’m sure she will be by the time you two have finished talking. So get your arse over there. I bet you haven’t stopped to ask directions?”

  “I did, and I’m still lost. Hey Lea! I’ve just discovered I’m on a one-way street headed in the wrong direction—shit!”

  “Pull over—now! It just gets better,” Leandra mumbled. “Can you see any street signs?”

  Jack peered through his side window. “Yep, I’m looking at Maple and 23rd.”

  “What are you doing there? You’re on the wrong side of town. You have to turn around, and then go straight ahead until you get to 9th Avenue. Turn right into 4th SW. And—I can’t believe I’m doing this—count three streets and turn left into Avenue On The Park. Kate’s apartment block is Regency, on Central Park. She’s five flights up in the loft apartment—and she’s going to kill me!”

  “No, she won’t. People always shoot the messenger.”

  “Jack, don’t hurt my friend. Or I’ll sharpen my arrows and come after you.”

  “Are you kidding me?! Why would I do that?” Jack made sure the road was clear and swung the car around. “I’m on my way.”

  “Okay,” Leandra said. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  “Can’t make any guarantees.” Jack disconnected and slipped the mobile into his shirt pocket. He followed Leandra’s directions, found the apartment block, parked and hurried up the steps. His index finger hovered over the buzzer below Katherine’s nameplate. Don’t do anything stupid. Yeah right, if only he had a crystal ball. Would she let him in? He couldn’t take the chance she’d knock him back. He waited in the sub-zero temperature. Stamping his feet and shoving his gloved hands under his arms, he hunched against the cold. Five, ten minutes went by. Man, he didn’t know how much longer he could stand it. Surely someone had to come out or come home soon.

  He was about to press Katherine’s buzzer when a car stopped at the kerb and an elderly woman hopped out. Her pale blue, feather-down winter coat seemed to weigh her down, buckling her legs. She was round and squat, with a big Russian fur hat that covered her head to just above her eyebrows.

  “No, I’ll be fine. Off you go now, or you’ll be late. Bye, darling.” The woman waved, and headed towards Jack, carrying a bag of groceries.

  Jack’s body tensed, hoping this cute little grandma bundle would help him out because he was close to turning into an icicle. She stopped at the heavy doors, struggling to get her key and hold onto her shopping at the same time.

  “May I help you?” Jack asked pleasantly.

  “Who are you?” she asked, craning her neck, eyes squinting.

  “I was visiting Katherine Bell. I called a cab, but I’ve been out here for about ten minutes and …” Jack shrugged, hands out, “nothing. I’ll have to go upstairs and ring again.” He hated deceiving her, but right now, he had no choice. If everything went to plan, he’d buy the lady a bunch of flowers. Hell, he’d buy her dinner.

  “Oh, I know what ya mean, ain’t they the pits?” she said, dumping her groceries into his hands. “Either they’re early buzzing for ya to hurry up and come out, or they’re late,” she muttered, rummaging in her purse for her keys.

  Hearing footsteps behind him, Jack turned. A young man decked out against the Arctic conditions headed towards them, carrying an insulated red pizza bag.

  “Katherine Bell live here?” he asked.

  Jack’s frozen brain worked miracles and came up with a plan. “Yeah, is that her order?” he said, trying not to be too friendly and blow it.

  “Yep, Italian pepperoni, extra cheese, and double fudge chocolate mousse.”

  The old lady shook her head. “That girl don’t eat right, she’s as thin as a rail.”

  Jack chuckled. “I’ll take it up if you like—unless you want to climb five flights?”

  “No thanks. That’s fifteen bucks.” The young man’s eyes turned shrewd. “Plus tips.”

  “Of course,” Jack said, handing over twenty.

  The kid pressed Katherine’s buzzer. When she answered, he said, “Pizza, ma’am.”

  “Thank you.” Katherine released the door lock.

  The pizza delivery boy looked at Jack. “In case you thought of eating it on the way up.” He grinned and took off.

  The elderly woman blinked at Jack. “Ya got done—ya know that don’t ya.”

  “Yes I do. But he could be working his way through college,” Jack said, teeth chattering. Balancing the pizza box, he shouldered the door open and carried her groceries to her ground-floor apartment.

  “Say hello to Katie for me, and tell her from me to eat more.” She gave him a toothy grin, her pink nose shining and rosy cheeks wrinkling. She took her groceries and, resting them on her hip, went inside.

  “Sure will, Mrs …?”

  “Mrs Svenkle.” She nodded and closed the door.

  Jack looked at the broad timber stairs winding up. His pulse thumped as he started to climb the steps two at a time. Out of breath from searing cold and tension, he rang Katherine’s doorbell, hoping he was going about this the right way.

  Chapter 11

  Katherine opened the door and, head down, rummaged through her change. “How much is that?” she asked.

  “A kiss?” Jack murmured.

  She gasped. Her heart skipped, she cou
ldn’t move and stared at him, tongue-tied. Seconds passed, and Jack gave her the slow, easy smile she loved so much. She dropped her purse and flung herself at Jack. Arms around his shoulders, she buried her face in his neck. The pizza box fell with a slap on the timber landing, and he wrapped his strong arms around her.

  “Kate … Kate,” he murmured, his body shaking.

  Katherine couldn’t let go; she needed to cling to someone strong, dependable. Jack was all of that, and more.

  A shudder racked his body, and she realised his inner core was cold. She stepped back and studied his face. A tear trickled down her cheek and, with the pad of his thumb, he gently slipped it away.

  “You’re frozen! Quick, come inside.”

  Jack scooped up the pizza box, and Katherine pulled him into the hallway. She grabbed the box and dropped it on her hall table, then yanked his coat off, and hung it on a hook next to hers.

  “Leandra was adamant th-that-t I ask: have you called your m-mum?”

  Hand on his chest, she said, “No. God, poor Mum.”

  “Ughrrrr. Not good,” Jack groaned.

  “We’ll be okay once we see each other. What’ve you been doing to get this cold? Take your shoes off.”

  “Waiting out-t-side,” he said, teeth chattering.

  “Why didn’t you buzz me?”

  “And ruin the s-surprise?”

  “It was the best surprise ever, but don’t do it again.”

  “N-never. Mrs Svenkle s-says hello.”

  “Oh, you met. It’s a wonder she didn’t drag you into her apartment—”

  “N-not her t-type.”

  “—and fill you with hot soup.” Katherine shook her head.

  “K-Kate.” Jack’s teeth chattered so hard he could barely say her name. He took her hands in his. “We have t-to sort th-things out-t.”

  “Sort what out?” Katherine’s worries bubbled to the surface. “Is there something I should know?”

  “D-don’t think s-so. Leand-dra told me, y-you’re Andrew’s daughter,” Jack said, his grey eyes full of understanding. “I know this has been a sh-shock …” He looked down at his hands. “Fuck! Sorry, but-t shock doesn’t really cover it-t. Whatever I want to say seems trivial. One thing is certain; I want to see a lot more of you. I want—”