Jo tried to hide her smile as she listened to the doorbell chime inside the house. When Gabe came to the door, his expression was one of bewilderment, but he quickly masked his surprise with a smile of welcome. He wore a t-shirt and a pair of track bottoms, and his feet were bare. Alex was sitting on Gabe’s hip, his chubby hand holding a sad-looking rabbit by the ear.
Jo smiled winsomely. “Hi. I’m dreadfully early, aren’t I?” she asked, doing her best to look contrite. “I was already in the area and thought I’d just come by. I hope that’s all right.”
“Of course,” Gabe said. “Come in.” He led Jo into the lounge and invited her to take a seat. His laptop was on the coffee table and Alex’s playpen was in the corner, where it would be clearly visible if Gabe was working on the sofa. He settled Alex in the playpen, a decision that was greeted with a wail of protest, and quickly shut the laptop before Jo could read what was on the screen.
“This is for Alex,” she said, holding up a gift bag. She’d bought a toy with as many colorful buttons as she could find, hoping it would keep Alex occupied long enough for her to spend some quality time with Gabe. “And I have something for Emma as well,” she added hastily.
“Thank you,” Gabe said politely. He took the toy out of the bag, removed the packaging, checked it for anything that might be dangerous, and handed it to Alex, whose eyes grew wide with excitement, his displeasure at being jailed in the pen forgotten.
“Can I get you a drink?” Gabe asked.
“Sure. Will you have something too?”
“Coffee?” Gabe asked. “I could do with a cup.”
“Lovely.”
Jo followed Gabe into the kitchen, where he made them both a coffee.
“Let’s take it into the other room,” Gabe said. “I don’t like to leave Alex alone for too long. He’s been quiet for several minutes now, and that never bodes well.”
“Of course. Was it hard—to adjust to parenthood, I mean?” Jo asked, looking up at Gabe coquettishly.
Gabe considered her question. “It was more difficult with Emma, since she was four when she came to live with us. It was as bewildering for her as it was for us, but we managed.”
“Admirably,” Jo agreed. “Emma seems well adjusted. Does she feel closer to you, since you’re her biological dad?”
“She goes through phases. Sometimes she wants only Quinn. Alex is going through a daddy phase now,” Gabe said, really smiling for the first time.
“Alex is adorable. He looks just like you,” Jo said, lowering her gaze in mock embarrassment, as if she’d just realized that she’d told Gabe he was adorable.
“Eh, thank you. We think so.”
Alex lifted his face at the sound of his name but went straight back to his new toy, pushing the buttons and watching them light up.
“And where’s Emma?” Jo asked innocently. She’d learned never to underestimate children. They had an uncanny way of sensing what adults sometimes chose to ignore, and if they were as astute as Emma, they also made mention of it, usually at the worst possible moment.
“She’s reading in her room.”
“She can read?” Jo asked, genuinely impressed.
“She’s learning to read at school, but Quinn has been working with her for months. She can read age-appropriate storybooks by herself. She also likes looking at the pictures, but she won’t admit to it if asked.”
“I should have bought her a book.”
“It’s not too late,” Gabe replied, and walked over to the sofa, where he took a seat in the corner.
Jo sat opposite him, folding one leg beneath her in a way that afforded him a view of her tanned thighs. She’d worn a short summer dress expressly for that purpose and had paired it with a short denim jacket and strappy sandals. She looked young, fashionable, and, she hoped, sexually available. Gabe was visibly uncomfortable and kept his gaze fixed on her face, a carefully guarded response that thrilled Jo. He was aware of her attraction to him, and his discomfort proved that he wasn’t indifferent to it. She was getting to him. All she had to do was keep up the pressure.
“And what about you? What were you doing when I arrived more than an hour early?” She laughed throatily.
“I was doing some research,” Gabe replied. “For a project I’m working on.”
“Do tell.”
“There’s nothing to tell. It’s all very dull.”
He doesn’t want to tell me what he’s working on, Jo thought. It must be important to him. “Have you ever considered writing a book?” she asked, hoping she’d hit the nail on the head.
“Yes, I have,” Gabe replied.
“What’s your area of interest?”
“The Wars of the Roses. My ancestors fought on both sides of the conflict.”
“I imagine your ancestors fought in every English war before and since as well. Doesn’t your line go back to the time of William the Conqueror or something ridiculous like that?”
“Yes, it does. There have been de Rosels or Russells in Berwick-Upon-Tweed since the eleventh century.”
“Wow, that’s really impressive. My father’s people had been in England for centuries as well—that’s my adoptive father, not Seth. Not sure about my mother. But that doesn’t matter now, does it? They weren’t my biological parents. As you know, Seth’s ancestors were slave owners, and Sylvia’s were probably a bunch of illiterate peasants, so I’m not sure I prefer that family tree.”
“Many Brits owned slaves,” Gabe replied. “You can’t hold Seth accountable for something his ancestors did centuries ago.”
“Oh, I don’t hold him accountable. I simply find it interesting how people’s views of right and wrong have changed over the years.”
“People have always known right from wrong. They simply chose not to dwell on the morality of their actions as long as doing the wrong thing benefitted them in all the right ways, and given that their deeds were deemed socially acceptable and in line with the government policies of the time, they had all the excuse they needed to pacify their conscience.”
“Do all people have a conscience, then?” Jo asked, giving Gabe a wide-eyed look meant to convey her interest in his opinions.
“No, not all,” Gabe replied tersely. “There have always been morally ambiguous people in the world.”
“Are you referring to someone in particular?” Jo asked, immediately sensing that Gabe was holding something back.
“Brett Besson came by yesterday.”
“Blimey! How did Quinn take that?” Jo exclaimed, surprised to hear that Brett was in town. She’d heard much of her American brother but had only seen a couple of photos, since he’d been in prison for the past year.
“Not well. She was badly shaken.”
“What did he want?”
“He wishes to make amends,” Gabe explained. He’d finished his coffee and set the mug on the coffee table. Jo was amused to notice that he crossed his arms as he leaned against the back of the sofa, as if he needed to protect himself from her.
“Is such a thing possible?” Jo asked.
“Not in my opinion, but Quinn has been known to surprise me.”
“You think St. Quinn will give him another chance?” Jo scoffed, glad of the opportunity to make a dig at Quinn’s forgiving nature. Gabe’s raised eyebrow signaled that she had gone too far, so she smiled and shrugged. “She makes me feel like a right old bitch sometimes,” she confessed.
“Just because Quinn is generous of spirit doesn’t mean she’s oblivious to people’s flaws, Jo. She chooses to see the best in everyone, something I try to remember when I pass judgement on people without a second thought.”
“Come now, I’d hardly call you judgmental. You’re nobody’s fool, and that’s a quality I admire in a person.”
“And you think Quinn is a fool?” Gabe asked, choosing to ignore the compliment and focus on the insult to his wife.
I’d better change tack, and fast, Jo thought. Gabe was becoming increasingly defensive, which wasn’t her
objective. She’d only meant to stroke his ego, not bring out the knight in shining bloody armor.
“Quinn is no fool. I only meant that she has an innate kindness, the type few people have these days. Someone who sees the best in people is more likely to turn the other cheek.”
“Quinn asked Brett to leave. She has no intention of speaking to him.”
“He’ll be back, I’m sure of it.”
Gabe didn’t respond. He was clearly done with the conversation and wanted to move on, but Jo had one more question.
“Did Brett say where he was staying?” she asked. She wanted to meet this bloke. Today.
“No, he didn’t.”
“You know, I can help you,” Jo said as she glanced at her watch. It was nearly noon, and she meant to use the remaining time to get closer to Gabe.
“With what?” Gabe asked, surprised.
“With your book, if you decide to write it. Emma is not the only one who likes to look at pictures. Adults do too. I would gladly supply the photos for your book—free of charge, of course.”
“Eh, thank you for the offer, but I’ve no need of photos at the moment.”
“Just think, we could drive out to the sites of the great battles of the Wars of the Roses and get some shots. I’m a whiz at Photoshop. I can superimpose images of knights riding into battle, or fighting, onto the modern photographs, but make the warriors appear almost transparent, like a ghost army. What d’you think?”
“I think that’s a very creative idea,” Gabe replied, looking at her with renewed interest.
“I thought you might like it. Think it over. My offer has no expiration date.”
“That’s very generous of you, Jo. Ah, there’s Quinn now,” Gabe said when he heard the key in the lock. His relief was almost palpable.
“Oh, hello,” Quinn said when she saw Jo.
“Sorry. I was early,” Jo explained. “Can I help you make lunch?”
“Sure, if you like. I just need to change and file this report away.”
Quinn returned downstairs a few minutes later and invited Jo to come into the kitchen with her. Gabe took the opportunity to scoop Alex out of the playpen and take him upstairs for a nappy change. He seemed eager to get away.
“So, tell me about this new case. Can I see the artifact you’re using?” Jo said as she leaned against the worktop.
“Are you sure you want to do that again?”
“Why not? I’m feeling reckless.” You have no idea just how reckless, Jo thought as she studied her sister.
“All right. I’ll show it to you.” Quinn left once again and reappeared a minute later with a brooch in a plastic bag. It was a cheap trinket, not like the beautiful gold and opal hamsa found at the last site.
Jo reached for the bag and held it up for closer inspection. “May I?” she asked.
“Go on.”
Jo lifted the brooch out and held it in her hand, closing her eyes to get a better feel. She felt a burning pain in her chest. It took her breath away and nearly turned her legs to jelly. Her knees buckled and she dropped the brooch onto the floor, desperate to make the pain stop.
“What? What is it?”
Jo’s splayed hand rested over her heart as she tried to catch her breath. “Pain. Terrible pain.”
“Was it a physical pain?”
Jo considered that for a moment. “Yes and no. The physical pain was the predominant one, but there was also great anguish, the kind that leaves you bereft of all hope.”
“That sounds about right,” Quinn said. “This poor woman had her heart broken, in the true sense of the term. Her baby girl was born severely disabled.”
“Children really do have the power to bring you to your knees, don’t they,” Jo said. She’d never expected to feel such longing for Daisy, but with every passing day, she knew that stalking her online would never be enough. Sooner or later, she’d have to make contact.
“Yes, they do. There’s nothing more painful than seeing your child suffer.”
“And yet, people keep having them.”
“Because there’s nothing like it. Have you considered having children—in the future, I mean?”
“Not really, but I might be persuaded to change my mind. If I met the right man, that is.”
“Have you ever met anyone you thought might be right?” Quinn asked as she took some vegetables out of the refrigerator.
“Yes, I have. Just recently.”
“Is he interested?”
“He might be. It’s early days yet.”
“Well, I wish you luck. I want to see you happy, Jo.”
“I’d like to be.” Jo shook her head, as if trying to dislodge Gabe from her mind. “Tell me about this encounter with Brett. Gabe mentioned he’d come round. That took courage.”
Quinn groaned. “Can we not talk about that right now? I’m trying to put it out of my mind.”
“Sure. Sorry. I am just curious to meet my brother, the black sheep of the family. But then again, he’s not the only one, is he?” Jo said. “We’ve all got a checkered past. Except you.”
Quinn didn’t reply.
“Do you know how I can reach Brett?” Jo asked, knowing full well Quinn didn’t. She just wanted to rattle her cage.
“No, but I’m sure Seth does.”
“I’ll ring him. I haven’t spoken to him in a while, so two birds with one stone,” Jo replied.
“How are things with Sylvia?”
“I’ve decided to give her a chance. Have you seen her recently?”
“No, I haven’t. I’ve been very busy with the program. Rhys has skeletons turning up thick and fast. The hotline was a stroke of genius.”
“Yes, he’s clever like that, our Rhys,” Jo said, a bit sarcastically. “Is he still shagging that Russian?”
“Yes, he is still seeing Katya. He seems very happy,” Quinn snapped.
“You don’t need to get defensive on his behalf. We parted amicably,” Jo said, reaching for a piece of carrot and popping it into her mouth. “Best of friends.”
“I’m not getting defensive. I’m genuinely pleased for him. He deserves something real in his life.”
“And the Russian princess is real? Somehow I doubt it.”
Quinn didn’t reply, but Jo saw the spark of annoyance in her eyes. The two of them couldn’t be in the same room for long without creating friction. Jo knew her remarks were caustic, but she couldn’t help herself. Something about Quinn got under her skin.
Her self-righteousness, Jo thought angrily. Well, I’ve had enough of it for one day.
“Look, Quinn, I’m sorry, but I think I’ll skip lunch. I’ve just remembered, there’s something I need to do. Tell Gabe I’ll be happy to help him with his project,” Jo added, glad to see the look of surprise on Quinn’s face.
You thought he’d only shared his dreams with you, lovey? Jo thought spitefully. Now you can wonder just how much he’s shared with me.
“All right, if you’re sure,” Quinn replied.
“I’ll ring you later.” Jo gave Quinn a peck on the cheek and saw herself out.
She’d done what she’d set out to do. There was no need to stay any longer. She was, however, curious to meet Brett. She fished out her mobile and texted Seth, asking for Brett’s contact information. Seth replied a few moments later. Jo saved the number and made the call. Brett didn’t pick up, so she left him a message, telling him she’d like to meet, then turned for home. Having barely slept last night, she needed a nap.
Chapter 40
“Where’s Jo?” Gabe asked as he came down, Alex in his arms. He lowered the baby into his highchair, and Quinn handed him a sippy cup full of juice.
She passed Gabe a bowl of homemade baby food so he could feed Alex while she finished preparing lunch. “She left.”
“Did something happen?”
Quinn shrugged. “She was in a confrontational mood, so perhaps it’s for the best. I hadn’t realized you told her about your book.”
“I didn�
��t mean to. She just happened to ask the right questions, and it was something to talk about. She offered to take some photos.”
“Did she? Well, that’s something, I suppose.”
“What do you mean?”
“Forget it. I have no idea what I mean,” Quinn replied warily. “It’s just that she’s been so snippy lately.” She set a bowl of salad on the table and reached into the fridge for leftover chicken. “Is Emma coming down?”
“She’ll be right down. She wanted to finish her book. She seemed really engrossed.”
“I’m so happy she enjoys reading,” Quinn said, instantly brightening. “My efforts are paying off.”
“They most certainly are. I love seeing her with a book.”
“Enjoy it while you can,” Quinn replied with a wry smile. “She’ll be asking for a mobile soon, and then she’ll be glued to it twenty-four hours a day.”
Gabe nodded. “I see lots of kids with phones when I collect her from school. I can’t imagine what their parents are thinking, getting them a mobile at the age of five.”
“I don’t think we should get Emma a phone just yet, but there are benefits to a child having a mobile,” Quinn replied.
“Such as?”
“It’s a way to track them, should they get lost or, God forbid, taken. It’s also a way for them to call for help, should they need it.”
“Yes, I suppose,” Gabe replied thoughtfully, recalling the time Emma had left the playground because she thought she saw her mother walking past. Jenna had been recently deceased, and being only four at the time, Emma hadn’t been able to quite grasp the finality of the situation. She’d wound up at a busy junction, lost and terrified. Thankfully, she’d been quickly located by the police, but things could have turned out very differently had Emma decided to cross the street or kept going instead of standing still and waiting for rescue.
“Are you getting me a mobile?” Emma asked as she waltzed into the kitchen. “I’d like a sparkly pink case.”
“No, darling, we’re not getting you a mobile,” Quinn replied. “We were just talking.”
The Broken (Echoes from the Past Book 8) Page 20