by Anna Jacobs
They were both far too young for this.
Brody was worried. What the hell was Miranda doing here? Not only in England but in Wiltshire, of all places. He felt to be making progress with his daughter and didn’t want anything interrupting that.
Nor did he want the past stirring up again. He’d loved Miranda deeply – more fool he! – and she’d let him down, though what her family had had against him, he’d never understood. He’d dreamed about it all last night and the night before, living through it again, feeling the anguish and frustration . . . then the fury at being driven out of his home town.
It was hard to carry on studying when he was both angry and upset, but he’d figured if he ever found her again and they got back together, as they surely would, he’d at least have a decent job to support them. He’d got a first class degree. Miranda hadn’t finished hers.
After the child’s expected birth date, he went to see her father again, asking about the baby. He found himself facing the brother instead. Arrogant sod!
‘She had it adopted,’ Sebastian said.
‘It’s my baby too. I’ll take you to court about that.’
‘What? Did you think you could suckle it yourself and raise it? They’d laugh you out of court. Anyway, you can’t prove you’re the father. She put “Father unknown” on the birth certificate.’
‘I want to see her, talk to her.’
‘Well, she doesn’t want to see you. And anyway, she’s not here.’
Within the week, Brody was sacked on the most spurious of excuses and, for all his excellent grades, failed to get even a sniff of another job.
Then one evening he met his former boss, John, in a café where he was doing some casual work. He scowled but said nothing.
John hesitated, then said in a low voice, ‘Meet me in the gents in a couple of minutes.’
When Brody slipped inside, John said, ‘You’ve offended someone, Lanigan! The word is out around Perth in the sort of firms you’re likely to look for jobs that you’re not to be trusted.’
‘Who did that?’ As if he didn’t know!
John tapped the side of his nose. ‘Not wise to ask. Some people have friends in very high places.’
‘I can’t believe it’s happening in this day and age.’
‘It’s happened in every age. Money and power can talk very loudly. Look, if I were you, I’d get out of the state and look for work elsewhere. Western Australia is a small place; you can do better for yourself anyway. Tell future employers you’ve been enjoying a holiday since you graduated and don’t try to provide anything but academic references.’
‘Could you give me a private reference?’
‘Sorry. I’d like to keep my job.’ John walked out.
Brody stood there in silent humiliation, then pulled himself together to finish his shift. A week later he moved to New South Wales and never went back to Western Australia.
Ten years after that he accepted a transfer to the UK and stayed on. It had been a good move. He felt free of his past here. After a few years, he’d had a little luck, developed some small software programs that filled useful niches and would keep selling well. They brought in steady royalties, and he was quite comfortable financially now; could pay the necessary child support for his son, afford decent holidays, whatever he wanted.
He wasn’t rich, had no desire to push harder financially. Comfortable was quite enough for him.
After his marriage broke up, he hadn’t looked for another long-term relationship, except for the ones with his children. Nothing, but nothing was going to mess up his fledgling relationship with his daughter . . .
He realized he’d slipped back into thinking about the past again, something he’d vowed to stop doing. He got up to pour himself a whisky and sat down, scowling at some stupid-looking woman on the television. He had no idea what programme had been showing. The one he’d started to watch must have finished.
How many people were sitting alone tonight feeling lonely? Why was he so often on his own anyway? Because he was no good at relationships, that’s why. He raised his glass. ‘To hell with the past!’
But he choked on the whisky. He wasn’t really a drinker.
What was he now? Not the bright-eyed lad who’d loved Miranda, that was sure. What would she see when she looked at him now? If they ever met again.
What would he see when he looked at her?
Sixteen
Miranda arrived at the café early, feeling extremely nervous. She chose a seat from which she could observe the door and sat down, ordering a latte.
When a young woman walked in, she had no need to ask if this was her daughter. She was shocked at how much the newcomer resembled not only herself but also her mother in the old photos she regarded as some of her treasures. She stood up and waved.
Katie threaded her way slowly across the jumble of tables in the café and stopped just before she got to the table, studying her. ‘Miranda Fox?’
‘Yes. And I’m sure you’re Katie. You look so like your grandmother at the same age. Won’t you join me?’
After the slightest of nods Katie sat down, ordering a cappuccino from the hovering waitress.
Miranda tried to keep her voice steady, tried not to stare too much. ‘Thank you for agreeing to meet me.’
‘I thought it was only fair. You . . . um, look younger than I’d expected.’
‘My mother’s side of the family is noted for its baby faces. It’s a problem when you’re young, but a blessing when you get older.’ She stopped, realizing she was babbling, forcing herself to wait.
Katie could hear the nervousness in her mother’s voice and it disarmed her a little. If Miranda had been confident and brassy, she’d have had a lot more trouble relating to her, she was sure. But this woman was tense and on edge – just as she was herself. ‘I’d like to hear about my birth family, baby faces and all. It’s important to know where we come from, don’t you think? That’s why I posted my details on the adoption lists.’
‘I didn’t find you through those lists. A dear friend contacted a private investigator. He knew how much it mattered to me.’
‘He must care about you.’
‘He died recently. I miss him.’
The naked pain in her face disarmed Katie still further.
‘I’ve brought you some copies of family photos that I’d scanned in.’ Miranda fumbled in her handbag with hands that shook visibly.
Katie stared at those hands as she took the photos, then looked up at the gentle face with its over-bright eyes. Oh dear, being unkind to this woman would be like smacking a baby for crying. She swallowed hard and bent her head to study the photographs.
‘I’ve written on the backs who they are. This one is my mother. Can you see the resemblance to yourself?’
‘Yes. She died young, didn’t she?’
‘How did you know that?’
She didn’t want to tell her about Brody, not yet, and he definitely didn’t want to be brought into things. ‘I’ve been doing some research.’
‘She was very young when she died, only twenty-eight. In fact, my father’s first two wives both died young. The third one left him. So I have an older half-brother and a younger half-sister. My sister lives in England, near here, actually.’
‘And your brother, my uncle?’
‘He lives in Australia and is best forgotten. He’s an arrogant bully.’
Katie stared at her in surprise.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say anything about him.’
‘It’s all right. I’ll probably never meet him.’ She had to wonder, though, why a woman as gentle as this hated the man so much. ‘Tell me about my father, how you met him, why you parted.’ To her amazement, she saw her mother wipe away a tear.
‘He was called Brody Lanigan and I met him at university. I loved him very much. My father . . . separated us forcibly and I never saw Brody again. He was very intelligent and good-looking, at least I thought so.’
This didn
’t sound like a woman who’d callously abandoned her lover and child. Katie was puzzled, but didn’t dare ask anything else in case she revealed too much.
‘Would you tell me about your son, Katie?’
She smiled involuntarily. ‘Ned’s five, into mischief all the time. He’s intelligent – well, I think so – and tall for his age, like his father. Here, I have a photo.’ She held it out.
‘I can’t believe I’m a grandmother. I never hoped for that.’
Katie watched Miranda’s forefinger touch the photo lightly, tracing out Ned’s face, and that gesture further weakened her resolution not to see her mother again, as did the tears that had welled in the other woman’s eyes when they were talking about Brody.
‘And your husband, Katie? What does he do?’
‘He’s a professional soldier, a captain. He’s serving in Afghanistan at the moment.’
Her mother looked shocked. ‘That must be hard on you.’
‘I’ve grown used to being a soldier’s wife. I knew what it’d be like when I married Darren. It’s just . . . sometimes, like now, he’s out of touch for a while, then you can’t help worrying. But I cope. You have to.’ That was the word she always used. Cope. It was as good as any to describe how it was. But it was getting harder and harder to say it with confidence. She finished her cappuccino. ‘I have to go soon. I deliberately kept the time short in case—’ She broke off, not wanting to hurt her mother. Oh, dear, she’d intended to be so businesslike!
‘In case you didn’t take to me,’ Miranda said quietly.
‘Something like that.’
‘And now you’ve met me? Can we see one another again? Or did I fail the test?’
She could see how white-knuckled her mother’s hands were. ‘You passed it. And yes, we can meet again. Here, if you like. How about in two days’ time, but half an hour earlier, so that we can talk for longer? I’ll bring a few photos for you.’
‘I’d love that.’
Katie stood up. ‘I have to pick Ned up now.’
‘Yes.’
She hesitated, not knowing how to say goodbye, whether to air kiss her mother or not. But it seemed false, so she just nodded and tried to smile. Didn’t manage that.
When she was outside, she glanced back into the café and saw that her mother had turned her back to the room. But her shoulders were shaking visibly and she was mopping her eyes.
This wasn’t a woman who didn’t care about people, who abandoned them without a word.
What had really gone wrong to separate her birth parents?
When Regina and Tim got to the hospital they found Nikki sleeping, and the nurse who took her things from them didn’t encourage them to linger.
‘Best thing she can do is sleep undisturbed.’
Nonetheless they waited for half an hour, then Regina said briskly, ‘Come on. We’re doing no good here and I’m sure we’ve both got better things to do.’
Tim shook his head stubbornly. ‘I’m staying. She might wake and need to see someone she knows.’
‘OK. She was upset to be in hospital. Will you be all right? Have you money for a taxi home if you leave after the buses stop running?’
‘I can walk.’
‘It’s too far. Here.’ She stuffed a couple of notes into his hand and patted his shoulder.
He looked at her earnestly. ‘I do love her, Ms Fox. I know you think we’re too young, but you can truly love someone at any age.’
‘I know. Been there, done that.’
She felt sad as she walked out to her car. She felt pretty certain that Nikki didn’t have the same depth of feeling for Tim.
When she stopped the car, she looked at Miranda’s cottage in surprise, because she hadn’t made a conscious decision to come here. Then she pulled a wry face and got out. Why not?
Her sister came to the door, beaming at her, then the smile faded. ‘What’s wrong?’
And Regina, who prided herself on being sensible and practical in all situations, burst into tears.
Sebastian sat at his desk, drumming his fingers, unable to concentrate. He didn’t know when he’d been as angry as he was now – with Miranda, of course, always with Miranda. She had given the family nothing but trouble over the years.
Dorothy said it wasn’t worth getting so het up and he should just concentrate on other things, but the anger wouldn’t go away, nor would the image of Miranda letting the family down by acting foolishly in England.
He’d spent years planning how to manage that money and make sure it came to his sons in the end, and was anyone grateful to him? No. His sons hadn’t been across to visit him for several years now, nor had they been particularly welcoming when he suggested going to visit them in the eastern states; a plane flight of nearly five hours, so not a journey to be undertaken lightly.
And whatever anyone said, if Miranda had slipped into depression once, she could do it again at any time. She needed someone to keep an eye on her for her own protection, as his father had agreed.
She’d sold most of the antiques and Dorothy had told him the prices she’d got. Miranda would waste the money, he was sure. And she’d presumably taken the jewellery with her to England as well.
And now the final straw, the cause for his fury escalating steeply, he’d been required to attend a meeting with an official mediator to discuss the will and the application to have it overset. Sally had been quick off the mark in lodging an application for this and must have pulled a few strings, because a judge had ordered them to try that path first.
The letter said that since one trustee was in favour of oversetting the will’s provisions, it seemed worth trying to come to an agreement rather than going the more expensive route of a court case when the courts were overloaded with more important work.
He had no intention whatsoever of oversetting the terms he’d worked out so carefully, not under any circumstances. He would have refused even to attend, but Robert Courtenay, the head of his firm, was big on mediation and was making a name for himself in that area. He’d told Sebastian how important it was to try this route first.
Sally Patel must have got at Courtenay, since there was no other way he could be au fait with the case. Case! There was no case to answer. Minnie wasn’t getting hold of that money. He’d make damned sure of that.
When she got home, Katie went straight to her computer to check her emails, but there was still no word from Darren.
She knew better than to contact anyone about her husband. If he’d wanted her to know what was happening he’d have told her. And if anything went wrong, if he was – her thought skittered away from the word ‘killed’ and she substituted ‘injured’ – well, the unit welfare officer had her mobile phone number and would contact her personally. That was how they did it these days.
No, she just had to carry on. Somehow.
She was glad when Brody rang to ask if he could drop by for half an hour after tea to see Ned. Her guess was that Brody also wanted to find out how she’d got on with Miranda. She wished she’d had more time to get to know her mother before discussing her with him and would have pretended to be busy.
Unfortunately Ned overheard the call and guessed who it was, jumping round her in delight, so she couldn’t say no to Brody dropping in. Ned was getting very attached to his grandfather.
Brody turned up with flowers for her and a wooden puzzle game for Ned, who seemed to have an affinity for twisting and manipulating shapes.
‘You’re looking a bit strained. How did it go today?’ he asked.
‘Better than I’d expected.’
‘Oh?’
‘She seemed nice. As you said, she’s a very gentle sort of person.’
He hitched his shoulders slightly, which could mean anything, but his lips pressed tightly together.
‘She hurt you badly, didn’t she?’
Another shrug. He stared across the room to where Ned was fiddling with the puzzle.
‘She was in tears today.’
He lo
oked straight at her then.
‘After I’d left, I looked back and she was sitting there in the café, all on her own, crying. I nearly went back to comfort her, only I had to pick Ned up, so I couldn’t, but I felt awful leaving her in that state. I’m seeing her again in two days’ time. I wondered if you’d like to join us?’
‘No.’
‘Shouldn’t you ask her what really happened? I mean, all you have is what her brother said to you, and she didn’t speak very well of him today. In fact, she called him an “arrogant bully”.’
‘She’s telling the truth there, at least.’ He changed the subject, so she didn’t press the point.
‘Do you want to take Ned to the zoo at the weekend, Katie? If the weather’s fine, that is.’
Ned must have been listening because he rushed across the room. ‘Say yes, Mummy. Say yes!’
‘As long as the weather is OK. I’m not tramping round zoos in the rain and nor are you.’
‘It’ll be fine,’ Ned said confidently.
Regina rang the hospital a couple of times, leaving messages, and went to see her daughter during her lunch break.
‘You’re still looking pale.’
Nikki’s voice was sharp. ‘Thanks for that compliment!’
‘Have they decided what’s wrong with you?’
‘Pre-eclampsia, they think.’
‘That’s not good.’
‘Tell me about it. I can understand now why you wanted me to have an abortion. Having a baby stuffs up your whole life. How am I to get good grades in my A Levels when I’m like this, Mum?’ She rubbed away a tear.
‘I’m sure the doctors will be able to help you and then, once you’re feeling better—’
‘They said I needed bed rest for the time being. In other words, lie here and go mad.’
‘Oh.’
‘And all Tim could say was we had to do what they said because of the baby. I’m doing it because of me, because I don’t want to die of eclampsia. I’m starting to hate the baby, hate it!’
There was a gasp from the doorway and Regina turned to see Tim standing there looking horrified.
