She stood, the sight of her son calling like a beacon. ‘Will you tell her?’ she said to Elizabeth. ‘I need to ... There’s a long way to go, for my mother and me. There’s still what she did with Evan, and all the rest of the history between us. I just can’t talk to her properly, not yet. You understand, don’t you?’
‘Sure.’ Elizabeth stood too, but then she pulled a face and laid her hand on Kate’s arm. ‘Kate, I’m afraid I haven’t been entirely honest with you today.’
‘What?’ Kate said distractedly. Sam had noticed her now and was waving frantically. She waved back, her face lighting up with the widest grin.
‘The thing is, I just wanted to hear what you had to say, and if you hadn’t said it – that is, if you hadn’t had the chance to say it, I don’t think you’d have made the progress you did just now. It was kind of cathartic, don’t you think? Coming to that decision?’
‘Elizabeth.’ Kate turned and regarded her impatiently. ‘What are you going on about?’
‘The thing is, your mother had already spoken to me before I met with you this morning. She’s given up the Special Guardianship Order. Parental responsibility has been restored to you.’
Kate’s mouth dropped open. She looked back at Sam, his face picked out so clearly against the backdrop of a milling crowd. He was getting closer now, holding onto his nana’s hand, grinning all the way. And then he was in her arms, her son, her own flesh and blood, a solid bundle of fierce love, and she held him, pressing her face against his, wiping her tears on his soft, woolly hat.
Chapter 31
November the fifth dawned a clear, crisp day, with just the lightest sprinkling of frost making the beach glint like diamonds in the weak sun. Kate leaned against Patrick and watched three dogs race into the water and out again, their coats slick and glistening. She sighed contentedly, despite the cold. Patrick gripped her more tightly, his body warm at her side. Sometimes he seemed almost able to read her mind. Read this, she thought, imagining his lips on hers, his hands in her hair the way they had been last night, her head tipped back while he kissed her in a frenzy of desire.
‘We should be getting back,’ he said. ‘Sam will be running Marie ragged.’
Kate smiled to herself. Not quite the mind-reader after all.
They trudged back to the promenade, stamping wet sand off their shoes all the way up Bow Hill.
‘Are you sure it’s going to be safe tonight?’ Kate asked for the hundredth time. Patrick rolled his eyes and kissed her lightly on the nose.
‘Were you always such a worrywart? It’ll be fine. They have this firework display on the beach every year. Sam will love it.’
Kate smiled. She hadn’t always been such a worrywart, as he called her, but she was certainly enjoying being one now.
Back at the house, Marie and Sam were playing in the tiny back garden. The arrival of Sam had prompted the removal of all of Big Tony’s ‘artwork’; now Kate, Sam and Patrick were regular visitors to Marie’s ground floor rooms, and this was where Sam often played, watched over by a doting Marie while Kate worked at her sewing machine upstairs, altering clothes and making curtains, her fledgling business already thriving. Kate had moved her chair right next to the window so she could enjoy the sight as well as the sound of Sam, who loved to be outside in all weathers. No matter how tired she became, no matter how hard she had to work to keep the money flowing in, the presence of Sam was a balm to her soul.
‘Kate,’ Marie called, waving from the garden. Sam was playing in the sandpit, building castles and then knocking them down with squeals of delight. ‘Come and taste my new coffee mocha recipe. I’m trying it out for tonight.’
‘See you later,’ Patrick whispered.
‘Later,’ Kate said, turning to watch him go.
***
The coffee mocha was a great success, as was Marie’s hot chocolate with marshmallows, which they carted down to the beach in insulated tubs, ready to share with the hordes of friends Marie and Patrick had arranged to meet for the Corrin Cove fireworks extravaganza. Kate and Marie sipped their drinks and watched Sam play with a group of boys from the neighbourhood, the older children holding sparklers aloft in the night air.
‘He seems to be settling into his new routine fine,’ Marie remarked.
‘He’s adapted well,’ Kate agreed, wrapping her gloved hands around her mug. ‘The first few weeks were tricky, but we’ve worked through it.’
‘And you’ll keep going like this? Half the week at Bow Hill, the other half at your mum’s?’
‘I don’t know what the future holds, Marie,’ Kate said honestly. ‘I’m just taking it one day at a time.’
‘Are things any better? With you and your mum, I mean?’
Kate shook her head. One of Marie’s friends appeared, gushing approval for the hot chocolate, and Kate smiled automatically, then turned away, glad of the distraction. She wondered what her father would have made of the way things had turned out. She held her cup to her face and let the steam warm her cheeks, feeling the sudden tears dry on her skin as quickly as they’d appeared.
‘Not so close to the bonfire, Sam,’ she called, but it was only to reassure herself. He was surrounded by other children, and the bonfire was only a spluttering campfire at least twenty metres along the beach.
‘Hi there, worrywart.’ His breath was soft against her hair and she could hear the smile in his voice.
She rested her head against Patrick’s shoulder and allowed the feeling of contentment to flow through her body. How long had it been since she’d felt like this, free from guilt and pain and regret? Too long, she decided. There was no point hoping for any more miracles. Getting Sam back had been enough of a miracle. That things might improve with her mother would certainly be a miracle too far.
‘You look chilly,’ Patrick said. ‘I’ll get you another hot chocolate.’
‘It was coffee,’ Kate called after him, but he was already striding away up the beach. She pulled a face, and turned back towards the sea, tugging her coat more tightly around her. There, standing close enough to touch, was her mother.
‘Mum!’ Kate was so surprised she couldn’t speak for what felt like a full minute. Her mother didn’t seem to know what to say either. She shifted from foot to foot and folded her arms across her body, then dropped them to her side.
‘Kate.’
Barbara took a deep breath, and Kate noticed that her hands were trembling. ‘I’ve come to …’ She halted, took another steadying breath, then finally seemed to pull herself together. ‘Kate, I’m here so that I can …’ Her mouth clamped shut again and she looked away, but not before Kate had noticed tears swelling in her eyes.
‘It’s okay, Mum,’ said Kate wearily. ‘I understand. You want to see Sam enjoying the fireworks. We don’t have to stick to our days so rigidly. And you can talk to me when I come to pick him up, you know. You don’t have to be so formal about it.’
‘No, it’s not that.’ Barbara reached inside her handbag and pulled out a stick. It was gnarled with flaking bark, the kind Kate might have picked up from the ground in Patrick’s wood. ‘Of course I’d love to see Samuel,’ Barbara said, ‘but what I really came for was to give you this.’
Kate stared at the twig, puzzled. ‘You came here to give me that?’
Barbara nodded, her face twisted in embarrassment. ‘It seemed a good idea at the time.’ She tried to laugh, but her laughter faded into nothing. ‘It was supposed to be an olive branch.’
‘An olive branch?’ Kate looked again at the stick her mother clutched in her pale fingers. An olive branch. ‘So what is it, really?’
Her mother pulled a wry face. ‘It’s actually a piece of your father’s hedge.’
At the mention of her father Kate stiffened. But her mother only smiled sadly and held out her hand. ‘Will you take it?’ she said in a small voice. ‘I’ve been so stupid, Kate. I’m a stupid old lady, and I was proud and stubborn and afraid. I thought I would be lonely without Samuel.’ She c
orrected herself, keeping her watery eyes trained on Kate’s face. ‘I mean without Sam. And that was true. But the person I was missing all along was my own daughter, the daughter I’d let down so badly. And I’m so sorry. So very, very sorry.’
There were more words, but Kate didn’t hear them. She pulled her mother close, noticing how frail and brittle she felt, how small she seemed.
After a while, Barbara stepped out of Kate’s embrace and held her daughter at arm’s length.
‘You did nothing wrong, Kate,’ she said. ‘Your father and I, we didn’t give you the best start in life. All that happened to you, it was not your fault.’ She smiled then, the smile turning her into the woman whose love Kate had craved for so long.
‘Nana!’
Sam bowled into them, one chubby fist clutching a half-eaten hot dog, his face smeared with tomato ketchup.
‘Oh, my goodness,’ Kate exclaimed.
‘Someone’s having a good time,’ Barbara laughed.
‘There’s sparklers, Nana, come see. Come see!’
‘Do you mind?’
Kate smiled and shook her head. ‘Have fun,’ she told them. ‘Sam, take care of your nana. Make sure she doesn’t get lost.’
She turned around to find Patrick eyes upon her.
‘I got your coffee,’ he said softly.
‘Did you know she was coming tonight?’ Kate asked, still watching her son and her mother as they weaved their way down to the shore.
Patrick didn’t answer her at once. He moved to her side and pulled her against him. It was, she decided, one of her favourite places to be.
‘It’s like foresting,’ he said. ‘Sometimes, it’s a good idea to let nature take its course. But sometimes, you need to step in and lend a helping hand.’
Kate narrowed her eyes. ‘Are you always this wise?’
‘Oh, yes. And later, I’ll be expecting you to show me just how grateful you are.’
‘I might just do that,’ she said, waving at Sam, who was tipping wet sand all over her mother’s shoes. ‘But first we’ve got a fireworks display to watch.’
‘Oh, fireworks,’ Patrick said blithely. ‘Well, if it’s fireworks you’re after, you’ve certainly come to the right place.’
THE END
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About the author
Joanne Phillips lives in rural Shropshire with her husband and young daughter. She’s the author of contemporary women’s fiction Can’t Live Without, The Family Trap, Keeping Sam and Cupid’s Way, and the Flora Lively series of contemporary mysteries. Joanne has a Masters degree in creative writing and her books regularly appear on bestseller lists. Before becoming a writer, Joanne had jobs as diverse as hairdresser, air hostess and librarian, but now divides her time between writing and finding creative ways to avoid housework.
Books by Joanne Phillips
Can’t Live Without
The Family Trap
Cupid’s Way
Keeping Sam
Flora Lively Investigates:
Murder at the Maples
A Date With Death
Acknowledgements
There are so many people who helped with the development and writing of this book, it’s hard to know where to start. First of all my thanks go, as always, to my husband, who is endlessly supportive and positive, even when writing takes me away from the family and makes me grouchy. To my beta readers, Pauline, Emma D, Emma H, Mandy, Poppy, and Rachel, thank you so much for your feedback and comments. A special thank you to the RNA reader who gave such a thorough and bracing edit - this book wouldn’t be what it is without your input! My thanks go to Kristy for her expert advice, and to the wonderful Internet for such a wealth of research resources. Information about the court system was correct at the time of writing and any errors are mine alone. Thanks as well to Jude White for her most excellent proofreading services. And finally, thank you to my readers for inspiring me to keep going and keep on writing!
Keeping Sam Page 19
