‘Come in,’ said Molly when Gemma knocked at the door once again. She gestured to the sofa. ‘Please, sit down.’
Gemma sat on the edge of the sofa in the lounge, anything but relaxed.
‘Can I offer you a tea? Coffee? Something cold?’ Molly rambled.
‘I’ll have a tea, please.’
‘Milk?’
‘A little, but no sugar. Thank you.’
Gemma sat rigid while she waited for Molly to go into the kitchen and make the drinks.
Molly reappeared with two mugs, each with a string and a label from the teabag hanging out the side. She set them down on the rectangular coffee table on top of the sky blue china coasters and pulled a little blue china teapot-shaped teabag drip tray from her back pocket.
‘I didn’t know how strong you like your tea.’ Molly explained. ‘Mum always makes builder’s tea, Dad on the other hand makes tea so weak it’s practically like water. I’ve learnt people can be quite particular about how they take theirs.’
Both women stirred their drinks, squeezed the teabags and discarded them onto the special tray.
‘I’m sorry for the way I reacted to you when I first found out who you were.’ Gemma was first to speak. ‘I’ve been in a state ever since you turned up and made everything so … real.’ She stirred her tea unnecessarily. She suspected that, had she had her own children, the shock of Molly’s existence wouldn’t have been so brutal, so raw. But for a moment, she’d let it change the person she was. ‘I’m also sorry for everything I said.’
‘There’s no need to apologise, really.’
‘I disagree.’ Gemma set her mug down on the table, clasped her hands in her lap and faced Molly. ‘I’m not usually an angry person, and if I am I’m never spiteful. I manage my feelings, but everything seems to have happened at once in our family and to be honest, I’ve not been coping as well as I might.’
When Molly looked at her, Gemma saw a flash of familiarity, but she couldn’t place why. She didn’t look exactly like Andrew, at least not in her opinion. It wasn’t Molly’s eyes, or her nose, or anything in particular. It was more Molly as a person, her presence, which exuded something Gemma could only describe as Andrew-ness.
‘You remind me of Andrew.’ Gemma smiled, watching Molly’s face. She looked happy, took it as the compliment it was meant to be.
‘He says I look a lot like Julia too, my birth mum.’
Relieved Molly had finally spoken, Gemma nodded. ‘He told me the same thing.’ She hadn’t seen a photo. He’d asked if she’d wanted to – there were a few on Julia’s Facebook apparently – but it was a step Gemma wasn’t quite ready to take.
‘Molly, I don’t know what it is, but there’s something about you that makes you very much a part of the Bennett family,’ Gemma explained. ‘I want you to know I’m not a complete bitch.’
Molly spluttered as though her tea had gone down the wrong way. ‘I don’t think that at all.’
‘Not even a tiny bit?’ She smiled.
‘I really don’t. I was warned this sort of thing could happen, but after Julia turned me away, I decided I had nothing to lose by turning up here.’
‘Still, I said some pretty unpleasant things, and, well, quite honestly I’m embarrassed.’
Molly rested her cup on the table. ‘You’ve come here and apologised. You don’t need to feel bad any more.’
‘You’re a good person, Molly.’
Both women looked at one another, and it was a few moments while the mutual understanding settled between them.
‘Louis spoke to me in the street that day,’ said Molly.
‘He’s a good man. Despite everything, all his faults, he’s a good man.’ Gemma finally shuffled back so she could lean against the sofa. ‘He’s pretty sick. I honestly don’t know how much longer he’ll go on.’
‘It must be awful. And he’s on dialysis four times a week now?’
Gemma smiled. ‘Andrew told me you’re in the medical profession. You must be clever … you got that from him, and you got his compassion.’
The compliment sat well again.
‘Louis has four sessions a week,’ Gemma explained, ‘and a while ago Andrew was tested and found to be a good match to be a live donor. He took it all in his stride. Louis had refused to let him help until he started to get worse and Andrew gave him a serious talking to. And then—’
‘And then I happened,’ Molly concluded.
Gemma looked across at Molly as she leant back against the sofa. ‘He had a message out of the blue from your birth mum. It knocked him sideways. And then Louis told him everything.’
‘It must’ve been terrible to know he’d been lied to.’
‘When Andrew found out exactly what Louis had done, he went ballistic. He was so angry. They’ve always been close and this was the ultimate betrayal. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Andrew so mad. I really thought he’d hit Louis.’
‘Was that when he told Louis he wouldn’t donate the kidney?’
Gemma nodded. Molly sounded calm, much calmer than Gemma felt. Maybe she was still enough of an outsider. Nothing was close enough to hurt her as much.
‘How long does Louis have?’ Molly asked.
Gemma shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes.
‘Wait there,’ said Molly, heading off to the kitchen. In less than a minute, she was back with two wine glasses and a bottle of Prosecco. ‘Sorry, no champagne flutes in this place so these will have to do. I figure we need something stronger.’
Gemma wiped beneath her eyes. ‘Oh, God, would you look at me.’ She took a glass as Molly wiggled off the top of the Prosecco with a telltale ‘pop’. ‘I didn’t mean to fall apart on you. Usually I’m quite a together person.’
Molly filled Gemma’s glass and then her own. ‘Can I ask you a personal question?’
‘Is that why you’re plying me with this?’ Gemma lifted her glass to her mouth and took a sip. ‘To lower my defences, get me talking?’
‘Not at all.’ Molly smiled. ‘I wanted to ask how you really feel about me being a part of Andrew’s life. I don’t want to come all this way, meet him and then say goodbye. That can’t be it.’
‘I agree. It can’t be it.’ Gemma paused. ‘And even though our family has its problems, we’re not bad people. It was an incredible risk to turn up on our doorstep. Imagine if we’d been some sort of crazy family, bogans who welcomed you with open arms but for all the wrong reasons.’
Molly smiled. ‘I did do a bit of digging on the internet before I came so I’d seen photos, read up about the business. I figured it was worth the risk, and I like to think I’m a pretty good judge of character.’
‘You picked well with Ben Harrison.’
‘Ben?’
‘I’ve seen the way you two are with each other. Chatting away like nobody else exists … reminds me of when Andrew and I got together.’
‘It’s a bit of a fling, it’s not going anywhere.’ Molly told Gemma how they’d met, how they’d flown together from England. ‘We’ve spent the last few days together, as friends, and it’s made the trip so much easier.’
‘I don’t know much about the Harrisons, but they seem a lovely family,’ said Gemma.
Molly filled Gemma in on their trips to Sassafras, the city restaurants they’d been to, another trip to St Kilda beach. In return Gemma talked about their move here from the city and giving up the fast-paced life for Magnolia Creek.
‘We wanted to raise a family somewhere a little calmer,’ said Gemma.
‘Do you think you will? Raise a family.’ Molly looked into her bubbles.
‘I hope so, I really do.’
Molly filled Gemma’s glass and her own again. ‘Do you think you can change Andrew’s mind about the operation?’
Gemma shook her head. ‘A month ago I was so sure of everything, but now, I really couldn’t tell you.’
‘He’ll never forgive himself if Louis dies.’ Molly’s voice was small, and Gemma knew she’d underesti
mated how much Molly was already invested in this extension of family.
‘I know he won’t. But what can I do?’
Molly swigged the remains of the second glass of Prosecco. ‘I might sound out of line here, but I think he likes me. Louis,’ she added when Gemma pulled a face. ‘I think maybe we start with him.’
‘What do you mean?’
Molly winked. ‘I think we need a plan.’
Chapter Thirty-Three
Molly
A low mist had settled on Magnolia Creek, bringing with it the feeling of an approaching winter. Molly finished her toast and cup of tea, cleaned her teeth and checked her appearance again in the bathroom mirror. Yesterday, she and Gemma had hatched a plan, or at least a way forward out of this mess for the Bennetts. Andrew wasn’t going to come around about Louis on his own, and he wasn’t going to come around by being nagged constantly.
When someone old was found to have done something bad in their past, it always seemed so unimaginable to Molly. There they were, grey hair, stooped posture, papery skin … how could an elderly person have ever done anything wrong? She was struggling to see anything but the good in Louis.
She pulled on a cardigan, picked up her bag and grabbed the key to the cottage. Louis didn’t have a dialysis session today, and so this morning Molly was going over to the house to see him, maybe even take a walk along Main Street if he was feeling up to it. She’d not been to the Bennetts’ home and she was nervous now, but last night she’d discussed with Gemma how forming a relationship with Louis might help Andrew to see his father wasn’t only defined by the lie he’d told all those years ago, the actions he’d taken, but by the many other parts of him that Molly didn’t yet know. By seeing Louis form a relationship with his granddaughter, maybe it would pacify Andrew and enable him to see the positives as well as the faults with his father.
Molly went the back way to the Bennetts’ place, following the clearly marked trails. An eerie grey mist still lingered over the bushland and hid the tops of the mountain ash trees, the gum trees Molly knew were there, somewhere. She followed the path running parallel to the trees all the way up to main road and took the first turning off to Myrtle Close. She knew Andrew was most likely at work, and she hadn’t heard from him in days so she didn’t want to bump into him in the street. She’d been disappointed he hadn’t contacted her, but Ben had distracted her well enough and she knew she had to grant her birth father this space for the time being.
‘Molly, come on in.’ Gemma opened the door and the smell of home baking hit her head on. ‘It’s cold this morning, where’s your coat?’
‘I’m British, remember. This isn’t cold.’ Molly pulled the door shut behind them.
‘Good point.’
Molly lowered her voice. ‘Is Andrew here?’
‘No, he’s at work. I didn’t mention this to him.’
‘Do you think he’d flip?’
‘Probably.’ She led Molly through to an oak-panelled kitchen.
‘It’s a bit early in the morning for baking,’ Molly’s tummy rumbled when her eyes fell on the loaf tin on the cooktop.
‘I don’t sleep well these days,’ said Gemma. ‘And especially not today when I knew you were coming. I’m a bit nervous about it.’
‘Me too.’ She watched Gemma carefully turn the loaf out onto a board. ‘What is it? It smells divine.’
‘Banana bread.’
‘Oh, I love banana bread, especially fresh.’
‘This one’s my own take on a traditional recipe.’
‘What’s the secret?’
‘I guess I could tell you, seeing as you’re family.’ She grinned mischievously. ‘I throw in a handful of chocolate chips, another of cranberries. It makes the loaf really moist.’
‘Oh my God, my mouth is literally watering.’
Gemma cut the loaf into thick slices. ‘It’s Louis’ favourite, but he can’t eat it anymore. The diet he’s on is pretty restrictive.’ She arranged a few slices onto the pale green plate she’d taken from the cupboard and then covered them in cling film. Then she passed Molly a second plate from the kitchen table.
‘What are these?’
‘They’re blueberry muffins for Louis, made from a specially adapted recipe. He’s got plenty of tea supplies over there in the annexe, so you’re all set. I told him to expect you.’
‘And is he okay with me visiting?’
Gemma planted one hand on her hip. ‘Are you kidding? He’s over the moon. After everything that’s happened, he would never have been the one to approach you apart from the odd hello and informal chat.’ She paused and then, ‘This goes to show Andrew, and anyone else who may doubt him, that Louis is kind. He’s gentle, has family values. He made one mistake, that’s all.’
Molly nodded. ‘I’m sure we’ve all made mistakes and I’m only just thirty, there’s plenty of time for me to stuff up yet.’ She wasn’t nervous any more, now she knew Louis was enthusiastic.
She followed the path from the house to the annexe as the mist gave way to fine rain. She didn’t have to knock because the door opened before she even got there.
‘Molly, welcome! Come on in.’ Louis had a sparkle in his eyes she hadn’t seen before. And despite his pallor, his spirits overcame any physical demands. ‘I’m glad you came.’
Molly noticed his hands were a bit swollen and unsteady. ‘I’ll take these straight to the kitchen shall I?’
‘Be my guest.’ He pointed to the back of the annexe.
It was a modest home, the right size for one and decorated tastefully in shades of beige with chocolate brown furniture. She looked around and peered more closely at the photos on the kitchen wall. ‘Andrew?’ she asked, pointing to the one of a young boy in a school uniform: black blazer, pale blue and black stripy tie, black trousers.
‘His first day at secondary school,’ Louis confirmed. ‘Tea?’ He lifted a cup from the mug tree on the worktop.
‘I’ll make it.’
‘Nonsense.’
‘Come on, I insist. Are you having one?’
‘No tea for me, thanks. As part of my delightful diet I need to restrict fluids. Bloody awful mess, my body is.’
Molly made the tea and asked where the side plates were. She took Louis a blueberry muffin and then went back for her own and joined him at the kitchen table, square and perfect for two.
‘Winter’s on its way.’ Louis broke off a corner of the muffin.
‘I bet you’ve forgotten what a real winter is like, you’ve been here so long.’
‘True,’ he said.
‘I love the snow, especially the first snowfall of the year when it blankets everything in white. The crunch when your foot first steps into it. I don’t miss the aftermath though, with the slush and wondering whether summer will ever come.’
Molly popped a piece of banana bread into her mouth and her eyes rolled heavenward. ‘This is amazing.’
‘Gemma’s a marvellous woman.’
‘She sure is,’ Molly said, taking another piece. ‘I understand this was your favourite.’
‘Banana bread and me go back a long way.’ He chuckled. ‘But the muffins are pretty good too. Can’t complain.’
‘She’s an amazing cook.’
‘She is.’ He paused. ‘You know they’ve been trying for a family for a long time now? Gemma has been through a lot, but she’s strong. And so is Andrew. Neither of them will turn their back on you, or on each other.’
He sounded so confident.
‘You’d be good with grandkids,’ she told him.
He smiled. ‘I hope I’m not doing too badly with the one I’ve got already.’
Shocked at the candid remark, Molly opened up to this man, her biological grandfather. She told him all about the day at the hospital when a father was denied access to his newborn baby, how that day had changed her way of thinking.
‘I’d never thought about finding my birth father before then. I guess I spent so much time obsessing about my birth mother,
I didn’t think about the other piece of the puzzle.’
Louis sighed. ‘It’s different. Perhaps it shouldn’t be, but it is. A birth mother carries a baby for nine months, feels it kick, hears those newborn cries.’
‘I’d always assumed the birth father wouldn’t really have an emotional attachment, especially if he didn’t even know his baby was ever born. Oh, God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—’
‘Don’t apologise, Molly. There’s no need. I did the wrong thing and regret it with every part of my being. But what’s done is done.’
He was right, of course. ‘I sometimes wonder what would’ve happened if Julia had agreed to see me.’
‘Andrew hasn’t told me much about what happened when you contacted her,’ said Louis, kind eyes looking back at her. ‘But I know she wouldn’t talk to you, not properly.’
‘I was so angry with her. I’d spent a long time being patient and it seemed so unfair. I wonder if she’d have come round had I left well enough alone. But I’m not sure she would’ve done. She seemed to have made up her mind, and I’ve heard nothing since.’
‘So you took matters into your own hands when it came to finding Andrew.’
Molly finished her slice of banana bread. The rain was coming down harder now, pelting against the window and she cradled her cup of tea in her hands. ‘I decided I wanted to know rather than tentatively try to make contact, risk misunderstandings, risk him never contacting me again.’
‘It was a big step.’
Molly grinned. ‘Do you know I was terrified of flying?’
‘Then I’m even more impressed,’ Louis smiled. He’d only eaten half the muffin, surprising Molly as Gemma had already told her it was his favourite.
‘You’re not enjoying it?’ She nodded to the plate.
‘I’ve not got much of an appetite these days.’ All of a sudden he seemed weary. ‘It’s the kidney dialysis, takes it out of me.’
That and the disease, Molly knew.
‘I can go after this,’ she said, sipping more of her tea. ‘Let you sleep.’
‘No need.’ He patted her hand. ‘But let’s move to the lounge and I can sit back, put my feet on the stool.’
The Chocolatier's Secret (Magnolia Creek, Book 2) Page 24
