‘How long have you known?’
‘We made contact about two weeks ago.’
‘And you’ve been keeping it quiet all this time?’
‘Because I wanted to wait for the right time. There’s been so much going on. The baby. Now the wedding. The Linhay. I didn’t want to cause any more stress for everyone.’
‘Does Jake know?’ Sheila looked accusing.
‘Not yet. I didn’t want to worry him. He’s had so much on. No one else knows.’ Except Gwen. And Robyn knew Gwen well enough to know she wouldn’t tell anyone. She had needed that one confidante. ‘I’ll tell him as soon as he gets back.’
‘I can’t believe it.’ Sheila sat back in her chair. She looked devastated. ‘I should never have given you that box.’
‘Yes, you should, Mum. It was my box. My history.’
‘But I never expected you to go behind our backs.’
‘It was something I needed to do for myself. It felt … private. I had to figure it all out on my own. Surely you understand that?’ Robyn’s voice was getting higher.
‘No,’ said Sheila. ‘I don’t. Not really.’
‘Hey, hey, that’s enough now, you two.’ Mick had been quiet until now. He turned to Robyn. ‘It’s all right, love. Maybe you could have warned us, that’s all. Talked to us first.’
Robyn hadn’t expected this reaction. She’d expected it to be delicate, but she thought her parents would understand. She put her hands up. ‘I made a mistake. I’m sorry.’
‘And why? Why now, suddenly? After all this time?’ asked Sheila.
‘Because of the wedding. And the baby. I just suddenly felt I needed to know where I came from.’
Sheila sighed. ‘I thought this might happen. Didn’t I, Mick? I said to you in the car, remember.’
Mick thought it was best not to say anything, so he gave a half nod, half shrug. Sheila turned back to Robyn.
‘We could have done it together. We could have supported you. We’ve always been here for you.’
Robyn felt tearful. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone looking. I should have burned the bloody box.’
Sheila looked as if she was about to cry too. Robyn was mortified. She’d hardly ever seen her mum cry. Not even when the cows had gone. Sheila was tough. Not in a bad way, she just always confronted things head on. Her dad was far more vulnerable. She knew Sheila always had her eye on Mick, making sure he wasn’t dwelling too much on what had happened. She kept him afloat. So it was strange to see her crumble.
‘Mum.’ She went over and put her arms around Sheila’s neck. ‘I screwed up. I got it wrong. I thought I was doing the right thing. I’m really sorry.’
Sheila stood a while, then shrugged her off, nodding a curt acceptance of the apology.
‘So,’ said Sheila. ‘What’s she like then?’
‘She’s … very nice. Normal. Ordinary.’ She swallowed. She had to tell them the rest. ‘And … my dad. He was there too.’
There was silence. Robyn shut her eyes as she waited for the explosion. But there was no explosion.
‘You met your real dad?’ Mick managed at last, his face white.
Robyn sighed. ‘Not my real dad, no. You’re my real dad. I met my birth dad. They got together again. After you adopted me.’
‘I can’t believe this.’ Sheila looked stunned. ‘This is devastating.’
Mick put his head in his hands. Sheila went to his side and held his shoulder, glaring at Robyn.
‘Have you any idea what this is doing to us?’ she asked.
‘But you both know how much you mean to me. You mean the world.’ Robyn felt desperate. ‘It was just something I wanted to do and now I can see I did it all wrong and I’m sorry.’
‘It’s all right, love.’ Mick looked up, weary. ‘It’s just a shock, that’s all.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Sheila. ‘I can’t handle this, after everything else today.’
She choked back a sob as she left the room. Robyn felt overwhelmed. She was exhausted and confused, with no idea how to get out of the mess she had started.
‘I tried to do the right thing. It’s not fair. It was hard for me, you know. I wanted to find her, but I didn’t want to hurt anyone. How was I supposed to do it?’
‘I understand, love. She’ll come round, your mum. Give her a bit of time. You know she doesn’t like surprises.’
‘What did she mean, “after everything else”?’ Robyn wiped away her tears angrily. She wanted to be calm and composed, but she could feel hysteria rising.
‘We had somebody come and look round the farm.’
‘You’re selling Hawksworthy?’
Mick looked at her, his face bleak. ‘I guess you’re not the only one with secrets.’
Robyn flinched, and he regretted his harshness.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—’
‘I’m sorry, Dad,’ said Robyn. ‘I need to go.’
And before he could stop her, she was out of the door. Mick stood in the kitchen, not knowing who to go after. His wife or his daughter.
His daughter, he decided. Robyn was pregnant. Jake was away. And although she’d upset them, she wasn’t a malicious girl. She’d thought she was doing the right thing.
He sighed and picked up his coat. He hated conflict. Sheila didn’t deal very well with not being in control. The film director hadn’t given them any indication of whether he was interested after he’d been to look around earlier. Geoffrey Minard hadn’t been able to give them any indication of whether he would put in an offer. And not knowing made Sheila very edgy.
Which was probably why she’d taken Robyn’s news so badly. He was sure once she’d had a bit of time to think about it, she’d calm down.
He was about to go after Robyn when he turned to see Sheila in the doorway with tears streaming down her face.
‘I’m sorry,’ she sobbed. ‘It’s just … that’s the thing I’ve been dreading since the day she arrived, and I don’t know how to handle it.’
‘Hey. Come here.’ Mick held out his arms and let his wife step into his embrace. And as he held her, he thought of how many times he had comforted her in this very kitchen. After all the babies they’d lost. While they’d been waiting for news of adoption. The time that Robyn’s mother had changed her mind after the baby was born, and they had thought they’d lost her.
The day they’d found out Robyn was coming to them after all.
If they could get through all of that, they could get through this.
40
Robyn ran over the fields behind Hawksworthy Farm and down the track, tears streaming down her face until she came to a halt in front of the Linhay. She looked at their future home in the evening light, the red roof glowing crimson and the glass front glittering as the last of the sun hit it. She could see the sea start to darken, and hear it whisper to her as it always had, a reassuring murmur. A sharp wind blew in from the east, slicing through her thin shirt without a moment’s consideration. The very last of April, conflicted to the end, bringing both warmth with her sun then chilling you to the bone on a whim.
Just like today. A day of joy and surprise, and now despair. She’d messed everything up at what was probably the most important time of her life. When she needed everyone more than ever. She’d been insensitive, she realised now. She’d been so caught up in her own need to uncover her past, she’d underestimated their fragility. Especially Sheila’s. Sheila who had always seemed so redoubtable and invincible but was as vulnerable as any of them. Of course she was.
What had she been thinking, going off to Bath like that without telling anyone? What kind of selfish little bubble had she been in? She’d thought the adoption was all about her, but of course it wasn’t. Other people’s feelings came into it too, but she hadn’t considered them enough. Just scampered off with some romantic notio
n of ecstatic reunions and one big happy family.
She opened the front door of the Linhay. It was cold and silent, and she shivered a little as she crept up the stairs to the nursery. She pushed open the door and went over to the window. It was almost the same view as she’d always had in her attic bedroom. It should have comforted her, but all she could think about was what her parents must have been through before they had her. She was cruel to bring that memory back when all they had ever wanted was to make her safe. They’d cherished her. And she’d thrown it all back in their faces.
And then she remembered Emily’s story too. The thought of having her own baby taken away from her didn’t bear thinking about. She suddenly felt very afraid, as if what she had done might bring about some terrible retribution.
Stay calm, she told herself. But she couldn’t. She needed Jake. She needed his strength, his voice of reason. His arms around her. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialled his number, praying he was in signal, praying he wasn’t five pints down in a pub somewhere.
The phone rang out and went to voicemail. She gulped down a sob.
‘Jake? It’s me. I need you. I’ve really screwed up. I’ve upset Mum and Dad. And there’s something I need to tell you. If you pick this up, can you phone me back?’
She hung up, her hands trembling. She was properly sobbing now, with the emotional ordeal of the day, and the distress of upsetting her parents. She tried some deep breathing, looking at the sun as it sank into the sea. The house was in darkness now. She felt a little calmer. She’d go back to the farmhouse. Try and talk it through with Sheila and Mick. They had always taught her not to go to bed on an argument. She would try and explain again, how she hadn’t meant to hurt them.
She headed out into the hall, using her hand on the wall as a guide. It was almost pitch-black. She started towards the stairs and felt for her phone again. She’d better call Jake back. Leave a less hysterical message and tell him not to worry, that it was all a misunderstanding. She’d explain it all tomorrow when he got back.
It would be OK, she told herself, as she lifted the phone to her ear.
But as she stepped down onto the first stair, she lost her footing. She went to grab at the bannister but there wasn’t one yet, just a smooth wall. She felt herself in freefall, the phone flying out of her hands and beating her to the bottom where it smashed on the limestone floor.
She landed there seconds later. She lay on her back, staring into the blackness, as a searing pain took the breath out of her, slicing through her. This was it, she thought. She had got what she deserved.
41
Emily and Jonathan were curled up together on the sofa. Once Robyn had gone, the house felt different. She had been there, their girl, in the four walls that had been their home for so long, and she had cast a spell over it. It had always been a haven for them, but now there was an overriding sense of peace and calm. A settling. Only the cats didn’t sense it, sitting on their laps, jostling for pole position and clawing at their legs. But that was Ron and Hermione, endlessly needy and attention-seeking. They loved them for it.
‘Tell me again,’ said Emily, like a child who wanted the same bedtime story told over and over again. She still felt as if it had all been a dream.
‘I walked into the café. And I saw her, at the back, and I knew straight away it was her. I didn’t have to ask. She was us, Em.’
Emily put her head to one side, looking at the selfie they had taken of the three of them.
‘I think she looks most like you.’
‘Don’t wish that on her, poor thing. She’s you all over.’
‘But she’s got your hair. And your eyes.’
‘She’s got your sense of calm. And determination.’
‘Your kindness.’
‘Your laugh. Your laughs are identical.’
‘I can’t believe how lucky we are.’
Jonathan nodded. ‘I’ll be honest, I didn’t think it would ever happen.’
‘I never gave up hope. I used to wake up, every morning, wondering if this might be the day she got in touch.’
‘You never told me that.’
‘It wasn’t a big thing. But it was always there. I learned to live with it.’
‘Well, you don’t have to worry any longer.’
‘No. Even if we never see her again, at least I know that she’s happy. That she’s safe and secure.’
They sat for a moment, in silence, looking at the photo.
‘I think,’ said Emily finally, ‘relief is one of the best feelings in the world. Especially the relief of finding something you’ve lost. You can keep going back to it, and it’s still there, that warm glow.’
Jonathan ruffled her hair. ‘I’m just happy for you. I didn’t go through what you did. I’ll never forgive myself for not being there.’
‘You’re here now. That’s all that matters. We were only babies ourselves. We weren’t in control of what happened.’
‘Thank God,’ said Jonathan, ‘for Led Zeppelin. That’s all I can say.’
Emily laughed. Jonathan always knew the moment to step back from introspection and bring levity. They’d had ‘Thank You’ as their wedding song, as a tribute to the band that had brought them together in the first place and then for a second time. It was their song, the one they agreed meant the most to them as a couple, when they’d finally tied the knot.
Jonathan got up and went to the turntable, tipping the album out of its sleeve and slipping it onto the turntable. Then he turned and held out his arms. Emily stood up and walked over to him as the intro began, and they danced together, her head on his shoulder, both of them reflecting on their memories. That magical summer. The heartache that followed. Their reunion. Their wonderful wedding day, with her parents and his mother, for they had refused to let what had happened cast a shadow over their families. In their own ways, their parents had done what they thought was best for them, out of love.
The only other person at the wedding was Olivia Bembridge. Emily didn’t think she would have got through it all without Olivia’s support. She had carried on teaching her over the summer after the baby had been taken away, and the music had helped to heal Emily’s broken heart and broken spirit. Her cello was still in the corner of the living room, always there for her when she wanted its comfort.
Later, Jonathan curled himself around Emily in bed. As he lay there with his arms around her, he realised it was the first time since they had found each other again that she had slept without disturbance. Usually, she was restless and wakeful. She would have little nightmares and cry out. Sometimes she would wake herself up sobbing, and she never knew what the matter was and he never knew what to do except hold her until she went back to sleep. But tonight she was sleeping sweetly and soundly, without waking once.
And he realised that at last, after thirty years, the nightmares were behind her and she was at peace.
42
Mick’s phone was ringing. Mick didn’t think it had rung so often in all the time he’d had it as this week. He wondered if it was Geoffrey to say the deal was on. Or off. He looked over at Sheila, who was more composed now. Should he leave the room to take the call?
Or maybe it was Robyn. He should go and find her. She’d been gone nearly half an hour, and it had grown dark in the meantime.
He looked at the screen. It was Jake. He was puzzled. He was off on his stag thing, surely? He’d dutifully asked Mick along, out of politeness, but he’d said no. It wasn’t his sort of thing, and Rocky wasn’t going either. But it was good of him to ask.
‘Hello?’
‘Mick.’ Jake’s voice was urgent. ‘I’m calling you because I didn’t want to worry Sheila. I had a call from Robyn. She left a message saying you had a row? But I can’t get through on her phone.’
Mick thought carefully before replying. ‘Oh dear. Yeah. We had a
bit of a disagreement. Not a row, as such.’
‘Can you see if she’s all right? Let me know if I need to come back?’
‘I’m not sure where she’s gone, if I’m honest. I’ll take a look.’
Sheila was looking at him, curious.
‘Ring me back, would you?’ asked Jake.
‘Course.’
Mick rang off and put his phone in his pocket. He was going to try and play this down. He didn’t want to put fuel on the fire.
‘Robyn rang Jake. He missed her call but he can’t get through to her. We’d better see if we can find her.’
Sheila rushed to the window.
‘Her truck’s still in the yard. So she can’t be far. She must be over at the Linhay.’ She looked anxious. ‘What did she say to him? I feel so bad. I shouldn’t have reacted like that—’
‘Shush. We’ll sort it. Come on.’ Mick grabbed his torch from the hook beside the back door, and the two of them set off across the fields. The night, now it had come, was relentlessly black, as it always was here unless the moon was full, but it was behind clouds tonight. Their flashlight lit the way, and luckily the path was familiar. They reached the front door. It was open and they looked at each other anxiously.
‘She can’t still be in there. It’s pitch dark.’
Mick pushed it open.
‘Robyn?’ he called.
‘Dad?’ came a tiny voice.
He pointed his flashlight into the hall and there they saw her. A crumpled figure at the foot of the stairs.
‘Get an ambulance,’ Sheila flew to her daughter’s side.
‘I fell.’ Robyn tried to lift her head. ‘I slipped and fell.’
‘Don’t move her, whatever you do,’ said Mick, pulling out his phone, his face grim with fear.
‘Where does it hurt, Robyn? Tell me.’ Sheila began to run her hands over her daughter, looking for injury.
Robyn was as pale as skimmed milk. She looked up and held out her hand.
A Wedding at the Beach Hut: The escapist and feel-good read of 2020 from the bestselling author of THE BEACH HUT Page 26
