And Stu would come around.
Surely, he would?
CHAPTER 25
England
The following morning the wake-up call roused Gina at seven thirty, but she snuggled down for a few more minutes and didn’t surface again until ten o’clock.
As soon as she’d showered, she rang her elder daughter on her mobile. Mel answered at the second ring.
‘How are you, darling?’
‘Mum! We’ve been wondering if the flight went OK.’
‘I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about. Are you still being sick as often?’
Once assured that Mel was slightly better and that her cousin Lou was looking after her like a guardian angel, Gina cut the conversation short. ‘These calls are very expensive, so I’ll email you when I can find an Internet café.’
After she’d finished her breakfast, she got ready for a walk. Daylight on your face was supposed to help counteract jet lag. It seemed a waste to leave the hire car sitting in the hotel car park, but she really didn’t feel up to a drive today, let alone an encounter with a possibly hostile half-brother or -sister.
The weather was brisk, with clouds scudding across the sky, and the sea air was invigorating. Gulls mewed and wheeled overhead, pouncing on anything edible, not seeming at all afraid of the humans. She walked briskly along the promenade and found herself at what must surely be the Golden Mile, so crossed the road to have a closer look. Her father had told her about it, and the stalls and show booths were just as garish and tatty as he’d said.
She watched in fascination as a man made some Blackpool rock, with the name of the town running all the way through, the letters neatly positioned in a circle round the edge of the round pink and white candy stick, which started out large and then was pulled into a much longer and thinner stick. When he’d finished making it, she bought a piece for herself, biting off the end and enjoying its sweet, minty taste.
Loud music beat around her as she strolled on, different tunes blaring out next door to one another; bright colours and lights assailed her eyes; and people standing outside the booths and shops shouted at her, assuring her of never-to-be-repeated bargains or marvels just inside their premises that would astound her.
Every now and then she’d see people playing what looked like bingo in seedy little rooms, sitting at machines with their backs to the sea. What a way to spend a holiday! There were even stalls selling sheets and bedding. Now why on earth would you go on holiday to buy things like that?
After a while Gina crossed the road and tramlines to get to the promenade itself and continued her walk, enjoying looking down on the smooth sandy beach below. The sea was different from at home, though, a brownish green in colour instead of aqua.
At two o’clock she stopped for a cup of tea and a scone, not feeling hungry enough for a proper meal. As she sat eating, she felt an overwhelming desire to sleep and worked out it would be getting towards bedtime at home. But she didn’t give in and return to the hotel for a lie down. Only when she grew too tired to walk any further did she catch a tram back along the promenade.
What was she going to do with herself all day tomorrow? she wondered as she walked into the lobby. Maybe there was a coach tour she could go on? You saw so much more if someone else was driving. She went to look through a rack of brightly coloured folders, taking a selection into the café-bar and sitting down with them.
Bridie appeared, looked at her questioningly and when she gestured to the seat next to hers, came across to join her.
Without asking, one of the waitresses brought across a tray with a teapot and a few small cakes.
‘You’ll join me?’ Bridie asked. ‘I always have a snack at this time of day, then I don’t need to come down too early for my meal. The evenings can be rather long otherwise.’
What must it be like, Gina wondered, living totally on your own with no family to turn to? She’d felt hard done to by fate when she lost her husband so young, but she’d had her daughters to comfort her and lately two lovely grandchildren. Bridie seemed to have no one. Her family should be ashamed of themselves for leaving her alone like this.
Brad came into the foyer, looking rosy-cheeked and windswept. Gina felt a sudden throb of pleasure at the sight of him. That astounded her so much she looked quickly away and it was left to Bridie to wave him across to join them.
‘Looks like we’re going to have a few showers this evening and tomorrow.’ He ordered a coffee and sat down, eating the remaining cakes once he was sure the two women had had enough. ‘I get hungry,’ he said apologetically. ‘Fast metabolism.’
‘You’re lucky,’ Gina said feelingly. ‘I have to struggle to keep my weight down. I really ought to lose a few pounds.’
He studied her frankly. ‘I don’t think so. You’re just right. I don’t find coat-hanger women at all attractive.’
Gina felt a warmth in her cheeks.
‘I’ve never heard that phrase before,’ Bridie said.
It was a minute before Brad seemed to notice that she’d spoken, because he was still looking at Gina, smiling slightly as if pleased with what he was seeing. Then he turned to Bridie. ‘It’s a word I use for fashionable women who keep themselves too thin on purpose. They look like those wire coat hangers we used to have.’
Bridie chuckled. ‘You’re a man after my own heart, Brad Rosenberry. In my generation, it was luscious curves that turned men on, not prominent bones. Some of those models look as if they’ve just come out of Belsen.’
‘Curves still do it for most guys!’ he assured her with a boyish grin.
Well, Gina thought, she certainly had those, and flushed all over again at her own reactions to him. Luckily the lighting wasn’t too bright and the other two didn’t seem to have noticed. Well, she hoped they hadn’t.
As she went up to her room later, she marvelled at how comfortable she’d felt with both Brad and Bridie. It was a cliché but it was as if she’d known them both for years.
She sat on the bed and studied the brochures, finding a full-day tour to the Lake District. She’d always wanted to go there. It was late, but on the off chance, she rang reception to ask if they could still help her book a place on it and they assured her they could. She got ready for bed feeling she was coping well with being a tourist on her own.
She would contact her brother and sister later, but couldn’t even bring herself to plan it yet. It wasn’t just the jet lag. Now that she was here, she was terrified of being rejected by them. It meant so much to her to meet them, get to know them.
Surely, they wouldn’t turn her away?
* * *
When Brad got back to his room, he wasn’t sleepy, so decided to phone Joanna and Michael. He did a quick calculation of the time differences and was disappointed to realise they’d be in bed now. He needed to ring them in the morning or early afternoon because they were seven – or was it eight? – hours ahead of England.
He picked up the novel he’d been reading – trying to read, he amended, frowning at it. The story didn’t seem to be sinking in. Perhaps he should buy another, one that was more cheerful.
What he really felt like was a long walk, but he didn’t feel safe in this district late at night – well, he wouldn’t in central Perth either. He’d go for a brisk walk in the morning then go out for a drive somewhere. Maybe Gina and Bridie would like to come with him? Gina had had a pile of brochures. Maybe he should look at coach trips too? They could go on one together.
Or would she think he was being too pushy? He sprawled on the bed, thinking of her. Why she should appeal to him more than Judy had, he couldn’t work out, but she did.
He was going to have trouble getting to sleep, he could tell. He was not only worried about Rosie but also about how lonely he was feeling. He hadn’t realized how much he’d miss the daily contact with people. His whole life had been spent working with others, meeting new people as he trained them, going home to his family or going out with friends.
He still w
anted to travel round Europe, of course he did, but he didn’t want to do it on his own. And he had too many days to fill in between his visits to Rosie. He’d definitely look at the coach tours tomorrow.
With a sigh he switched on the television and propped himself against the bed head to watch a film.
To his surprise Gina slipped into his mind again. He could imagine her beside him, gesticulating as she chatted. She had such a warm smile and a very expressive face. There was a gentleness about her that he liked, too, her voice was low and soft… her body was soft as well, very feminine. Stay away from thoughts of soft female bodies, Brad! he told himself as his body twitched.
Taking a deep breath, he tried to concentrate on the television, but there was no programme worth watching.
In the end he went and had a cool shower.
What a time for his libido suddenly to switch on fully again!
Was it Gina? Or was it just himself, ready for any attractive female? He didn’t know. He was so out of practice with women he was terrified of making a fool of himself.
* * *
The following morning it was raining heavily and Gina was glad she’d booked a coach tour because you couldn’t walk about in weather like this. She took breakfast in her bedroom, not wanting to seem too clingy with her new friends, then went to wait for the coach in the hotel lobby.
She would have enjoyed the trip much more on a sunny day because the scenery, what she could see of it, was gorgeous, lushly green after Australia. But as it was, the few passengers on the tour scurried for shelter at every stop and some of the views were obscured by mist or grey curtains of rain. And since everyone else seemed to be in pairs or quartets, and several of the groups didn’t speak much English, she was on her own all day.
What she should really have done was go and visit her family. Got it over with. Why else had she hired that car? It was sitting there behind the hotel, costing her money she could ill afford. She’d go the very next day. She was being a coward about it. If they were going to reject her out of hand, it was better to find out at once, then she could plan some sightseeing – York, London, Hadrian’s Wall were all on her list, perhaps even Paris. She’d always wanted to see Paris.
The weather cleared as they drove back into Blackpool and when the coach let down a couple at a hotel further along the promenade from hers, Gina decided to get out and walk back. It was still light, though there weren’t a lot of people about. It stayed light much longer here in summer than it did at home. She looked at her watch. People were probably having their evening meal or getting ready for it.
She’d work up a nice appetite for hers with a brisk walk. She’d been sitting around for too long today.
Huddled in her lightweight jacket, because it was quite chilly, she didn’t notice the young man with a hood pulled forward to hide his face until he grabbed her arm and yanked her into an alley, dragging her away from the street. She screamed, but he cut off her scream with one hand across her mouth, trying to pull her shoulder bag off her arm at the same time.
She fought against him desperately, but he was much stronger than she was.
* * *
Worried by her mother’s phone call, Cheryl rang home. She waited, her foot tapping impatiently, for her father to answer but he didn’t pick up the phone. Where was he? She didn’t believe what her mother had said about him being arrested. Why would anyone want to arrest a respectable man like her father?
If her mother thought she could gain sympathy with wild stories like that, she had another thing coming.
At midnight, seriously worried now, Cheryl made one final attempt and at last he picked up the phone.
‘Dad! Where were you? I’ve been so worried. I had the stupidest phone call from Mum. She seemed to think you’d been arrested.’
‘I had been.’
‘What?’
‘Only because she and those friends of hers made up a pack of lies about me and the police believed them. Did you know your mother’s left me?’
‘She said she had, but I didn’t believe her. I mean, how will she manage without you?’
‘Try telling that to her bloody brother. Tonight I just wanted to talk to Peggy, that’s all. I mean, what’s the world coming to when a man can’t talk to his own wife without her claiming he’s harassing her? I blame those damned feminists at the Women’s Wellness Centre. They’re man-haters, that lot are. That’s where it happened.’
He paused, breathing deeply. ‘She’s staying at your uncle Jake’s. Did you know that?’
‘She did say something about it. She’ll be upset. You know how uptight she gets about small things and you can be a bit sharp with her at times.’
‘Only to keep her on her toes. She’s such a bad organizer, I have to point out what needs doing.’
Cheryl kept quiet, but he didn’t seem to need encouraging to rant on about her mother. And some of the things he was saying weren’t true and were very unkind. He’d never talked quite like this before. Her mother meant well, didn’t mess things up on purpose. And her father was extremely fussy about things being done just so. She’d not like to live with him again, fond as she was of him. In fact, she’d never found a man she would like to live with until recently and was waiting to see how that panned out before mentioning Pete to her parents.
She realized her father was still speaking and tried to concentrate.
‘…and why Jake persuaded her to leave me, I don’t know. I suppose he wants a free housekeeper. In the meantime I’m having to cook my own meals and iron my own shirts. Peggy will no doubt change her mind in a few days and come crawling back. Well, she’s got no money of her own, I make sure of that, so she’ll have to. And I’ll lay down some pretty stiff ground rules this time, I can tell you. I…’
Cheryl frowned at the phone. She didn’t like to hear him talking so wildly. ‘Look, Dad, just calm down and—’
‘Calm down!’ he thundered. ‘Do you know what I’ve been through today? What if it gets out that I was arrested?’
‘What did they charge you with?’
Silence, then, ‘Assault’.
‘You hit someone? Was it Mum?’
‘No, some other stupid female. I pushed her away from Peggy a bit too hard and knocked her over by mistake. I said I was sorry, but no, she’s one of those femi-nazis, has to put men down.’
‘Perhaps she’ll come around after a day or two, and withdraw the charges.’
‘I doubt it. How do you think it’ll make me look being taken to court? I’ve never been so embarrassed in my whole life.’
‘Mum does get a bit upset when you shout at her.’
‘Don’t tell me you’re taking her side against me! Of all the ungrateful—’
‘No, Dad, of course not. When have I ever?’
‘That’s my girl.’
But he still didn’t stop talking, repeating the same thing over and over again. Cheryl stopped trying to reason with him and made occasional noises to show she was listening. It was a relief when he said he had to get to bed.
She put the handset down and stared at it then began walking round the flat, trying to make sense of what had happened tonight. Did her father often blow his stack like that? He’d never done it with her before.
Her mother had wept on the phone. Her father had ranted and raved like a madman. She couldn’t get the contrast between the pair of them out of her mind.
Well, one thing was certain. She wasn’t going home again till things had settled down. She wished Pete was here, could have done with someone to hold her, but he was away on a business trip. It was frightening to hear your father ranting like that.
Her last thought as she slid towards sleep was that her mother had sounded really scared and she’d been brusque and dismissive. She felt ashamed of that now.
She’d ring Mum back in a day or two and see if she was feeling better. She might have gone back to Dad by then, probably would have. He’d settle down again once she did. He needed Mum more than he w
ould admit, was helpless in the house. She’d not like to marry a man who had to be waited on hand and foot.
CHAPTER 26
England
A voice called out from the entrance to the alley. With a curse Gina’s attacker kicked her so hard the pain drove every other thought from her mind. When the pain subsided a little, she realized someone was kneeling beside her. At first she thought it was her attacker and flinched away, then she recognized the voice.
‘Brad! Oh, Brad! Thank goodness it’s you.’
He helped her sit up but muddy as it was, she couldn’t face standing up yet. She clung to him, shuddering. After a moment or two she began to get control of herself and noticed they were both sitting on the damp ground and she was pressed close to his chest. He was stroking her hair, murmuring soothingly.
When she drew away a little, he asked, ‘Are you all right? He hasn’t injured you?’
‘I’m getting there.’ Still leaning against him, she looked round for her handbag but there was no sign of it. That made her jerk upright. ‘He’s taken my bag! It’s got my money and credit card in it.’
‘Damn. I was so concerned about you, I didn’t chase after him, though I’m not sure that I could have caught him. He was a lot younger than me and he chose his place well, used those dustbins to climb over the wall at the far end of this alley.’
‘You might have got hurt if you’d chased him. I wouldn’t want that.’
‘Let me help you up.’
It hurt to stand up and she groaned, still clinging to him.
‘We should get you to hospital. You are hurt.’
‘He kicked me, but I think it’s just bruising.’ She looked down at her leg, which was throbbing now.
Brad pulled out a mobile phone with his free hand. ‘I’m calling the police.’
She didn’t try to stop him. She felt absolutely disoriented, kept needing something from her handbag, a tissue to wipe her face, a mirror to see what she looked like. But she had nothing, no familiar weight on her shoulder… only Brad.
Family Connections Page 20
