Guernsey Retreat

by Allen, Anne

  She nodded. Then, suddenly swamped by anger towards the man who had left her mother in the lurch, she virtually spat out, ‘And you…you’re my father.’

  chapter 7

  The silence was palpable. Louisa forced herself to calm down. Anger was not going to achieve anything, even if it was justified. Malcolm sat like a stone in the big armchair, mere touching distance away. He seemed to be in a trance, his eyes unfocussed. She told herself that it must be shock which held him silent, and not the dreaded rejection.

  He let out a shuddering breath and his eyes – so like hers! – gazed at her face, drinking in her features.

  ‘I…I don’t know what to say! I never knew. Susan never told me. How…?’

  ‘Mum told me that she only found she was pregnant after you’d had to return to Canada. Something about your mother being ill? She…she thought you’d write or phone but you didn’t. Nothing.’ Her voice took on an edge when she thought how awful it must have been for her mother and the anger still hovered around her heart.

  He seemed to pale under the tan. ‘I…had meant to get in touch, of course I did. But my mother was gravely ill and somehow the time passed in a blur and I…I was devastated when she died. For a while I was too depressed to think straight. When I finally recovered I told myself that Susan would have got over me and met someone else. That it was for the best.’ He shifted in the chair. ‘Susan knew I wasn’t keen on commitment and seemed to accept that. We’d agreed no ties.’

  ‘Well, you should have made sure she couldn’t get pregnant then, shouldn’t you?’ Louisa felt tears welling up again. Oh, Mum! How it must have hurt! ‘So you didn’t love my mother?’

  Malcolm bit his lip. ‘That’s the awful bit. I did, very much. But I managed to convince myself that I was better off not being tied down. To be free to live as I wished.’ He let out a harsh laugh. ‘How wrong could you be! I missed your mother so much, and learnt that being on my own was the opposite of being free. But it was too late. Or so I thought.’

  Louisa didn’t know what to think. Which was worse, her mother being on her own but reasonably happy, or her knowing that Malcolm really did love her but hadn’t had the guts to admit it?

  ‘Would it have made any difference to you if you’d known Mum was pregnant?’

  His eyebrows shot up. ‘Of course! I’d have married her and looked after you both. I’m not a monster!’ He took a deep breath. ‘Did…Susan marry someone else?’

  ‘No. She had the odd boyfriend but no-one serious. It was just the two of us. Until now.’ She fought down her grief, not wanting to fall apart in front of this man. Her father.

  ‘I see. That must have been tough on both of you. I’m so sorry. I should have been there. If only I’d known!’ He punched his fists together and Louisa saw the pain in his eyes. Yes, if only you had known, our lives would have been so different. And Mum would still be alive!

  ‘How did Susan die? Had she been ill?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, she wasn’t ill, although she did have a dickey heart. Some…bastard broke in and threatened her and she…she had a heart attack. She died in my arms.’ Tears glistened in her eyes and she quickly brushed them away.

  Malcolm looked at her in horror. ‘Oh, my God! How awful for you! Did the police catch him?’

  ‘No, and I don’t think they will. Mum died before she could describe him and I only caught a brief glimpse.’ She went on to tell him all that had happened, including the bit about the jewels.

  At the mention of the cause of the robbery, Malcolm sprang up from the chair and paced around the room. ‘My mother said those jewels would bring bad luck but I didn’t believe her. I’d never have let Susan wear them if I’d thought she would come to harm.’

  ‘But who would have known about them? Who did they belong to?’ Louisa had been driving herself mad with those questions.

  He sat down again, looking uncomfortable. ‘That’s a long story. In the meantime, I’m sorry, but I have to ask: do you have anything to prove who you are?’

  ‘Of course.’ Louisa opened her bag and pulled out various pieces of paper. ‘Here’s my birth certificate, the photo of you and Mum and my passport.’ She pushed them across the table, glad she had anticipated his asking. After all, from his point of view she could be anyone.

  Malcolm studied everything carefully, hesitating over the photo. She saw the pain in his face but it did little to assuage her own.

  He looked up and their identical blue eyes locked.

  ‘Would you mind if I hold onto these for a day? I’m sure you are who you say you are, but I need to be absolutely certain. Do you understand?’

  She was hurt. Of course she was telling the truth! She had the photo and everything to prove it. Why…Then it hit her. He must be an extremely wealthy man. Anyone claiming to be his daughter could be after his money. She flushed at the thought and for a moment was tempted to grab her papers and leave. Then she realised she would be the loser if she did. Still fatherless and not knowing who was after those bloody jewels.

  She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

  ‘Good. Thank you, Louisa. Look,’ He glanced quickly at his watch, ‘I have an appointment shortly. How about if we meet up tomorrow? I assume you’re staying on the island?’

  ‘Yes, I flew over yesterday and I’m booked into a hotel for a few days.’ She could not help but feel she was being treated like a potential employee instead of a daughter, but had no choice but to go along with him. It was hard, because she knew with all her heart that she was his daughter.

  As she drove away, unshed tears glistened in her eyes. She had been a sentimental idiot, hoping to be welcomed with open arms by her father. Her head told her Malcolm had to be sure, may even want DNA proof, but her heart had hoped he would just know she was his daughter. Even though she was angry with him for not contacting her mother again, she wanted him to accept her. To want her as his daughter. She sped back to the hotel and dashed up to her room, wanting to hide her hurt from the world. They were meeting again at three the following afternoon. Until then she had to deal with her old enemy: rejection.

  Louisa managed to drag herself down to dinner that night, before returning to her room to watch television in an attempt at distraction. It was partly successful, but she still felt a heaviness in her heart as she prepared for bed. She lay awake for ages before finally drifting off to sleep, her dreams pervaded by mixed-up images of both her new-found father and her mother.

  With several hours to kill before the next meeting, Louisa forced herself to go for a lengthy swim before taking to the cliffs. The exercise and the bracing air worked their usual magic and she felt decidedly better by lunchtime. Not entirely optimistic, but more sanguine. What will be, will be.

  She arrived at La Folie shortly before three and, straightening her shoulders, walked into the entrance hall. Nadine looked up and smiled.

  ‘Hi, there. Mr Roget said to expect you. If you’ll follow me?’

  Louisa followed her to the same room as before. Nadine knocked and opened the door, gesturing for her to enter. Malcolm was busy writing something when she went in but looked up and smiled.

  ‘Louisa! Good to see you again.’ He came round the desk and stood in front of her. She searched his face for clues. He did look pleased to see her, his eyes were smiling, and he looked far more relaxed than he had yesterday.

  ‘You’ll be pleased to know you are who you say you are,’ he said, his smile broadening.

  ‘That’s good to know. You…you’ve had me checked out?’

  He nodded. ‘I would have been an idiot not to. Although, to be honest I knew you were genuine. You knew too much not to be. Let’s sit down, shall we?’

  She sat down, wondering what would be the next step.

  ‘Do you need a DNA sample? I might be genuine, but that doesn’t prove I’m your…your daughter, does it?’

  ‘No, it doesn’t. At least not in the eyes of the law. But I k
new your mother well. Susan was the most honest woman I’ve ever met and if she said I was your father then that’s good enough for me. And you’ve inherited my eyes.’ For a moment they both stared at each other and Louisa felt her body loosen. He wasn’t going to reject her! Whether or not she would warm to him, as a daughter to a father, remained to be seen, but at least he accepted her. She felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth and gave into it.

  Malcolm gripped her hand. ‘We’ve got a lot of catching up to do, haven’t we? I still don’t know how you found me.’

  ‘I saw an article…’ Louisa explained about the magazine feature.

  ‘I see. You’ve been very brave in coming here alone. I think you must take after your mother. She had lots of guts, too.’ He sighed, looking at her sorrowfully. ‘We should all have been together, shouldn’t we? But we can’t turn the clock back.’ He shook his head and then went on, ‘I think we both need a cup of tea, don’t you?’

  She nodded her agreement and Malcolm phoned for a tray of tea.

  ‘May I ask you something?’ Louisa said.

  ‘Sure, go ahead.’

  ‘Did you ever…marry? Have children?’ Her heart jumped into her mouth as she awaited his answer.

  He looked at her steadily. ‘No, I never did. To both your questions. I think after Susan…’ he shrugged.

  She couldn’t help feeling a huge sense of relief. It would have been too awful for her mother to have been supplanted by another.

  ‘Okay. There’s one other question. Mum mentioned your mother, but said nothing about your father. Was he not in your life?’

  Malcolm frowned. ‘Strange you should ask that. He was…killed before I was born and only days before he was due to marry my mother.’ He spread out his arms. ‘This was his house.’

  ‘Oh! So is it a coincidence that you’ve bought this place?’

  ‘Hard to answer that. I only knew that he had lived on a cliff in Guernsey and my mother referred to it as a ‘folly’. When I met Paul, my manager, a few years ago, we started looking for a prospective health centre near the sea. We received details from realtors around the world. Nothing really clicked. Then one day Paul forwarded me the details for La Folie and, from the description, I guessed it must have been my father’s house and it piqued my curiosity. Until then I’d not thought about it. My mother had loved Guernsey but had mixed feelings about this house.’ He shifted in his chair. ‘She saw him killed here.’

  Louisa gasped. ‘What! Murdered?’

  Before Malcolm could answer, there was a knock at the door and Nadine, grinning broadly, brought in a tray laden with the accoutrements of tea and a plate piled with a variety of cakes. As Malcolm took the tray from her she turned and winked at Louisa before leaving.

  He must have noted the wink and said, ‘I’d wondered how you knew when I’d be here yesterday. Did Nadine tell you?’

  ‘Yes, I told her it was very important I saw you. I hope she isn’t in trouble, she was only trying to help.’

  ‘No, I’m glad she told you. As long as she doesn’t make a habit of telling strangers where I am!’ He smiled as he handed her a cup of tea and offered her a cake. She took some buttered fruit bread.

  ‘Your father? Was he…?’

  His face darkened. ‘Yes, he was. Or rather, it might legally have been manslaughter, either way he was struck deliberately and in anger.’ He looked at her thoughtfully a moment, before adding, ‘His body was found recently when we were digging out the pool. The police and I have kept it quiet that it was my father’s body, in case we can still trace the killer. As this happened in 1939, he’d be an old man now, assuming he’s still alive.’ He took a sip of tea as Louisa took in his words.

  ‘You know who he is, then?’

  ‘Oh, yes, my father’s nephew.’

  Louisa was horrified. ‘His own nephew! That’s awful. But why?’

  ‘It’s not something I’d like to go into just yet, my dear. I’d rather we talk more about you and your mother. Tell me something of your childhood.’

  The time sped by while she talked about her upbringing and her small family. Malcolm seemed genuinely interested, continuing to ask questions as if he needed to know everything. He must have realised that it was turning into a mini-inquisition as he suddenly stopped and smiled.

  ‘This isn’t fair, is it? How about I take you out to dinner tonight and you can be the one asking questions. Okay?’

  ‘Thanks. I’d like that.’

  ‘Good. Now, tell me where you’re staying…’

  After agreeing a time, Louisa got up to leave. Unsure of how to part, she hesitated. Malcolm resolved the issue by embracing her warmly.

  ‘Until this evening, my dear.’

  She smiled and walked down the hall, feeling that she was no longer the “reject”.

  chapter 8

  Louisa swam up and down the pool trying to calm her jumbled thoughts. What a day it had turned out to be! Not only had Malcolm accepted her as his daughter, but he seemed keen to establish a relationship with her. She’d been glad that she was his only child. Selfish, she knew, but the thought of him being a proper father to others would have been painful. She’d never had to share her mother with anyone either, although there were times when she would have liked some siblings. A brother or sister to spend time with when her mother was busy working, someone to chat to about problems at school or the latest boyfriend. At times she’d envied friends with a father, someone to share her love of sport and the outdoors. Her mother hadn’t been that keen on either. Looking back she recognised how solitary her childhood had been, with few friends at school and her only relations her grandparents and aunt and uncle. As the lengths of the pool mounted, her thoughts turned to Malcolm, the new – and only – man in her life. Physically, he was quite attractive for an old guy pushing seventy, she decided. His thick head of grey hair gave him an air of distinction and his light blue eyes shone out brightly against the tanned, lined, face. He bore the look of a man who had lived life well, reminding her a little of the actor Donald Sutherland, minus the beard. It looked as if he kept himself in trim, too; no paunch threatened his shirt buttons. It occurred to Louisa that his love of swimming may have been passed down to her, as her mother never enjoyed a swim unless it was in warm, shallow tropical waters. I wonder what other traits I’ve inherited? With that question bouncing around her mind she pulled herself out of the pool, reaching for her robe. Malcolm was picking her up at seven and it was nearly six.

  Forty-five minutes later, Louisa checked herself in the mirror. In honour of a restaurant meal, she discarding her beloved jeans for a pair of black tailored trousers, teamed with a cream and black polka-dot slinky blouse, topped by the ubiquitous bomber jacket. Her choice was limited, having grabbed clothes haphazardly to pack for the trip, not thinking beyond the need for something suitable for a short hotel stay. A quick slick of deep pink lipstick and she was ready.

  Once in the reception area she seated herself near the window, keeping an eye out for Malcolm. Moments later she saw a dark blue BMW convertible pull up outside and he emerged. Malcolm came round and opened the door for her, smiling broadly.

  ‘Hi, there. I’m glad to see you’re not one of those women who keep a man waiting.’

  She grinned and slid into the passenger seat. He drove off back towards the main road.

  ‘I’ve reserved a table at one of my favourite restaurants, La Fregate. It’s near my home in St Peter Port and I eat there several times a week. I’m not much of a cook, I’m afraid. What about you?’ He glanced towards her before pulling out onto the road heading east.

  ‘Not too bad. Mum taught me the basics and I became quite a keen cook at uni. One of the students in our shared house was studying nutrition and she encouraged me to eat healthily. So no burgers and chips or pizzas for us!’

  ‘Glad to hear it! I truly believe that we are what we eat.’

  Louisa sat lost in thought as she recalled her
conversations with her mother on that subject. Susan had enjoyed rich food, particularly creamy sauces and red meat. Although not overweight, her doctor had said her cholesterol level was too high and she had blocked arteries. An ideal candidate for a heart attack. Louisa had nagged her, but to no avail.

  ‘Darling, I know you mean well, but I do enjoy my food and my glass of vino. It’s my way of relaxing after a stressful day at the office. Doctors are such doom merchants! I’ll be fine,’ Susan said to her on one occasion. So Louisa stopped nagging, and a few months later Susan had suffered her first, albeit minor, heart attack. Her mother was shaken and made a big effort to eat more healthily. But within a year she was dead, thanks to that bloody burglar, Louisa thought angrily.

  She dug her nails hard into her hands to keep calm as the memories buzzed around her brain. I have to focus on Malcolm tonight, can’t be a moping minnie or he’ll not want to spend time with me. And I want to know the story of those damn jewels.

  ‘Are you all right, Louisa? You look pale.’

  She turned to face him. He was frowning.

  ‘Yes, I’m fine, thanks. You know, I’ve just realised that I don’t know what to call you. ‘Dad’ doesn’t sound right, somehow. What do you think?’

  ‘I’m okay with Malcolm. I could hardly expect you to call me Dad. Although, perhaps one day…’ He gave her a tentative smile.

  ‘Perhaps.’ That seemed a step too far…

  The restaurant had views to die for, Louisa thought, gazing over the rooftops towards the marina, the sea and the castle guarding the harbour entrance. There was still enough light to see outlines of the other islands and the overall effect was magical.

  ‘Quite something, isn’t it? In the summer I enjoy having an aperitif outside on the terrace, but I think we’ll agree to forego that pleasure tonight,’ Malcolm said, standing close by her side in the bar.

  ‘Yep, let’s!’

  They settled into the velvety chairs while the Italian manager offered them menus. He had greeted Malcolm with a hug, then turned to bow to Louisa.