The Storm

by Effrosyni Moschoudi

  Abby.

  Sue and Sofia locked eyes, and Sue started trembling so violently, panting so erratically, that Sofia feared she was going to have a panic attack. Not knowing what else to do, she opened her arms and embraced Sue, and her friend cried, she cried so hard, until the night chill engulfed them both to the point of shivers, until Sue had no tears left.

  Chapter 30

  The very next morning, Sue drove to Grand Parade to pick up Sofia, then they left Brighton in a hurry, as if being chased. Their only clue awaited down the trail and they couldn’t wait. On the back of the envelopes they found, there was a sender address. It was in a tiny village near Brighton. The girls got there under a quarter of an hour later and, by asking a couple of passers-by, located the house in a quiet street corner, across from a vast expanse of green.

  The house and its garden looked idyllic. As Sue pressed the doorbell, Sofia standing beside her, she thought it was the perfect setting to meet her mother for the first time. The revelation that she’d been longing for her and her brother all these years had shaken her world. It was a torture that morning to stop herself from bringing up the subject with her father, to express her anger and ask him for explanations. But, now that she knew the truth and had an ally to help her find her mother, Sue knew it would all come in good time.

  The door creaked open and a man in his forties greeted the girls good morning. Sue asked if Abigail Markson lived there but the man shook his head. “No, you must have the wrong address. There’s no one with this name here, not in the whole village, as a matter of fact.”

  “We are sorry for the disturbance, sir,” piped up Sofia after a few awkward, silent moments, reaching out to take Sue by the hand.

  The girls moved to go and the man had half-closed the door when Sue turned around again, her expression hopeful. “Sorry, wait a minute. You said no one with this name lives here, but what about any previous owners? Do you know who lived here before you?”

  The man scratched his head. “Abigail . . . Crikey! What about Abby? That was the name of the lady who sold me the house. That was five years ago.”

  Sue’s eyes widened. “Yes, Abby! That’s right. But five years? You mean she still lived here as early as six years ago?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. She was a lovely lady and lived here with her partner. But, not so sure she’s the woman you’re after. I mean, it’s a bit far-fetched, isn’t it? You said you’re looking for Abigail Markson, but the surname of the woman who lived here was Torrence.”

  Sue shook her head. “This doesn’t mean it’s not her. Actually, we could have her surname wrong. Do you have a forwarding address for her? A telephone number?”

  The man pressed his lips together, his eyes focusing far, on the lush fields behind the girls. They stretched out all the way to the distant rolling hills. “No. Nothing of the sort, and I have no idea where the deed of the house is. My wife handles all the paperwork, and she’s at work at the moment. You understand . . .” He shrugged a single shoulder and tilted his head.

  “Oh, that’s fine, sir. If you wouldn’t mind asking your wife to have a look at the deed, we could come back tomorrow,” said Sue.

  The man snapped his fingers. “I can do better than that! I just remembered. I have the number of the estate agency in our phonebook. Hang on a minute!”

  The man returned to the door moments later with his phonebook in hand. He’d put spectacles on. “It’s Sussex Properties Ltd. Here’s the number!” He gave a triumphant smile, and Sofia took out a notepad and a pencil from her tote bag to write it down.

  “I hope this is the Abby you’re looking for. Good luck,” he said and closed the door, waving goodbye to the girls, who were now rushing back to the car.

  ***

  As soon as the girls arrived at Sue’s house, they went up to her room. Sue picked up the phone and they sat on her bed with it.

  “Can you make the phone call, Sofia? I feel too shaky to do it.”

  “No problem.” Sofia dialled the number.

  “Hello,” echoed a breezy female voice from the other end, and Sofia explained they were trying to trace one of the agency’s customers called Abby Torrence. The agent sounded very helpful, and Sofia gave her the address of the property Abby used to own.

  “Yes, of course I know Abby. She’s both a customer and a friend. Except she’s married now and her surname is Stark. Torrence was her maiden name.”

  “She’s married, you say? She’s Abby Stark now?” Sofia paused for a moment to offer Sue a happy nod. Sue gave an inaudible gasp, her eyes widening.

  “Yes, that’s right. How do you know Abby, if I may ask?”

  “Oh! She’s a family friend,” lied Sofia. “Would you by any chance know where she lives now?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do. We’ve placed her in a lovely detached house on the coast in Kent. According to our records it’s been just over four years.”

  Sofia’s eyes lit up. “Kent? Where exactly?”

  “In Folkestone.”

  “Can I have her phone number please? I’d be most grateful.”

  “Normally, I wouldn’t be able to help you as we keep our customer records strictly private. However, in Abby’s case I’m in a position to make an exception—”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful—”

  “Just give me a moment,” interrupted the agent in a cheerful voice.

  While she checked on her computer for the information, Sofia, having covered the receiver with her hand, turned to Sue, her expression bright. “Do you know where Folkestone is?”

  “Of course. It’s where the Channel Tunnel to mainland Europe is. Been there once with my mates, on a daily trip to Calais for booze.” Sue rolled her eyes and gave a giggle. She was getting excited, looking forward to getting hold of her mother’s contact details.

  “I wonder if Hythe is near that. Loula might be able to tell us. You know she’s invited me and Danny to visit for a weekend?”

  Sue shrugged her shoulders. She had no idea where Hythe was. Sofia hoped it wasn’t too far from Folkestone so they could meet up with her mother while visiting Loula and Steve.

  The agent came back on the phone. “Here we are. Do you have pen and paper?”

  Sofia wrote down the details. To her surprise, the agent gave her Abby’s telephone number and her postal address too. “Thank you so much.”

  “Make sure to tell her I said hi, will you? Abby is a sweetheart. We became friends for a while, but lost touch eventually.”

  “Did you?”

  “Yes. Now let me explain why I made this rare exception for Abby . . . I can assure you our agency keeps our customer records strictly confidential.”

  “Of course,” said Sofia with a frown. Beside her, Sue looked mystified.

  “I’ve always had the feeling Abby left some special people behind when she left Sussex. Perhaps you and your family are them. Make sure to call her. I think it will make her very happy if you’re the ones she’s been expecting to hear from.”

  Sofia knitted her brows. “Why do you say that?”

  “Well, Abby asked our agency to give her contact details to anyone who may ask after her at any time. She said this was very important to her and we shouldn’t hesitate. We all thought it was peculiar but, of course, we were happy to oblige her. We even put a note in our computer records so all our agents are aware of this special request.”

  Intrigued and unable to contain her enthusiasm any longer, Sofia thanked the agent and hung up without further ado. When she told Sue, they wound up bouncing about, hugging each other.

  When they phoned Loula a few minutes later, the pleasant surprises continued. Folkestone was a mere distance of five miles away from the little village of Hythe. This made Sofia spare a thought for The Lady, who said that a strange coincidence would lead them to meet Sue’s mother. Perhaps this was it. Sofia promised Loula she’d talk to Danny and call back soon to set a date for their visit, then hung up.

  Sue asked Sofia t
o call her mother for her as she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Sofia dialled the number and, after a couple of rings, a lady picked up, her voice ringing gentle, unrushed, down the line.

  “Hello, can I speak to Mrs Abby Stark please?”

  “Speaking.”

  Sofia swallowed hard. Beside her, Sue was chewing her lips, her eyes glistening, intense. “I got your number from Sussex Properties. I am calling on behalf of a friend who’s trying to trace you, madam.”

  “You have? And who would that be?” said Abby, her voice having acquired a slight tremor.

  “Her name is Sue Markson—”

  “Oh, my God!” Abby’s legs gave in and she plonked herself down on a chair.

  Sofia heard the thud, then Abby breaking into sobs. “Are you all right? Mrs Stark? Hello?”

  “I am here . . .” Her voice trailed off. “Is she there? Can I speak to her please?”

  Sofia handed the receiver to Sue, who took it with trembling hands, her eyes burning. When Sue spoke down the line, what followed was an explosion of merriment between mother and daughter. Fighting the huge lumps in their throats, they expressed their joy and relief and apologised to each other for the lost time, despite it not being their own fault. Abby asked after Danny, and when Sue asked her mother about her family, she was delighted to hear she had a stepfather and two little half-sisters.

  Abby said something that made Sofia think of The Lady again. The spirit had urged her to find Danny’s mother soon because they were running out of time. It turned out this was true. Abby’s husband had been offered a great job in London and they were leaving Kent soon. Had Sofia and Sue phoned Abby after that, they wouldn’t have been able to trace her. The timing was amazing. Before they hung up, they promised to speak again soon, once they had a date for their visit to Kent, which would be as soon as they could all manage it.

  Chapter 31

  1946

  The next morning, Harold returned to The Seabird and spent a couple of hours stalking the entrance. He spotted neither Laura nor Christian, so he returned again in the afternoon to give it another try. After an hour or so, Christian showed up on his own, walking leisurely towards the entrance, a paper package in his hand.

  Harold had a friendly chat with the porter and extracted another valuable piece of information. It was well worth the generous bribe he placed in the young man’s hand. Christian Searle was scheduled to depart the next day, late in the evening. Alarm bells rang in Harold’s head, and he dashed to the nearest telephone box to tell his boss.

  ***

  Charles slammed the telephone down with a grunt.

  “What is it, darling? It’s not that silly affair about your wife again, is it?” said Lilly, tilting her head with a breezy smile. “She’s not worth the aggravation, Charles dear . . .” She went around the desk to stand behind him as he sat in his chair.

  With long delicate fingers, tipped with red, manicured nails, Lilly set out to massage Charles’s back. “Relax, my love! You have your Lilly now . . .” she whispered, bending down to kiss his cheek, but Charles shook his shoulders to drive her away.

  “It’s not funny, Lilly!”

  “But, Charles—”

  Charles put up a hand. “I told you, woman! This is a serious matter!” He banged his fist on the table. “I can't let her make me the talk of the town! Whatever she’s planning to do, she’d better forget it.”

  Lilly huffed and plonked herself down in her chair again, in front of the desk.

  Charles eyed her curtly and gritted his teeth, his eyes gleaming. “I’m only waiting to see what these two are up to, and then they’ll both be sorry, I swear!” Absentmindedly, he started to crack his finger joints again; that same annoying habit that put off his wife back home had managed to annoy Lilly too. With a stern gaze, she grimaced in response.

  Charles shook his hands and hid them in his lap under the desk, away from her line of vision. “I’m sorry, I forgot, dear. I’m a bag of nerves, I do admit,” he said with a grunt, his brow deeply furrowed.

  Lilly shrugged and looked away, arranging her features into a girlish, playful frown. “And here I was, thinking that your Lilly was enough!” She let out a long sigh and put a hand over her forehead in a theatrical little gesture.

  Charles exhaled audibly and gave a tight smile. “Of course you’re enough, dear. But this doesn’t mean I’ll let those two drag my name in the gutter. Do you know what Harold just said?”

  Lilly threw him an apathetic look that suggested she didn’t expect any surprises.

  “Well, let me tell you! That peasant is departing from the hotel tomorrow evening. I’m sure they plan to leave together! I don’t see how they could carry on with their affair in any other way. Harold tells me he lives in Devon somewhere, working on a farm. If anything, this justifies the epithet ‘peasant’ I’ve given him for years!” He huffed, then gave a derisive little laugh that made his fangs glint under the artificial light.

  Lilly leaned forward and patted his hand across the desk. “But don’t you see, my darling, how good this is for us? If they’re planning to leave town together, just let them! With her abandoning you, you’ll get a divorce in no time; then you can get rid of her once and for all, and we can enjoy our love openly, without being afraid of being spotted together in public.”

  Charles shook his head. “It’s not that simple, Lilly. If it weren’t for her little bastard, I might even consider it. But I can't risk people laughing behind my back.”

  Lilly shrugged. “If they run off to Devon, who will care? Who will hear who the boy’s father is?”

  “I can't risk it, Lilly! I won't! That boy inherits my father’s whole estate! Can you imagine what people will say if they find out he’s not even mine? I can't risk my good name to be marred like that. No one must ever know! While Laura lives under my roof, I have peace of mind.” He leaned back in his seat and smoothed his brilliantined hair, then straightened his tie. “Now, how about that stiff drink you promised me earlier?”

  Lilly obeyed with a compliant smile, but as soon as she exited the office, her expression changed to one of deep contemplation. As she strolled to the canteen, a vision of elegance, beauty and voluptuous curves, she thought again how futile Charles’s worries were. Unlike him, she was certain that if he only let things take their course, turning a blind eye while his wife ran off with that man, the outcome could only lead to their own happiness.

  ***

  “Oh Maggie, I cannot believe it! Just one more day and then I’ll be free at last!” exclaimed Laura as soon as she sat with Maggie in the drawing room. This was their very last meeting in the house, but in front of the staff they appeared as casual as ever. They had been so careful, keeping their big secret from the world.

  To avoid drawing attention to themselves, Laura had taken Maggie’s advice not to meet with Christian at all till the evening of the following day when they were planning to run away with Freddie. To the same end, Maggie had just arrived to say goodbye on a very short visit. After that, they weren’t going to risk even a telephone call to each other until Laura and Christian were out of town with the child, safely out of reach.

  Maggie leaned towards her friend and squeezed her hand. “I’m so happy for you, my darling. Although, I know I will miss you terribly . . .”

  “Oh, please don’t say that! You’ll see, we’ll keep in touch.” Laura spoke in a hushed tone. “We’ll write, talk on the telephone, and surely, you can all come visit us whenever you like.”

  Maggie did her best not to spoil her friend’s happiness by expressing further her feeling of sadness over her departure. Instead, she grinned at her expressions of enthusiasm and, soon enough, started to feel better already too.

  Jen walked in with a tray and left them tea and biscuits. When she closed the door behind her, the two friends served themselves and had a few sips before turning to each other again, their faces bright.

  “So, have you set the time and place yet?”

  “Ye
s! Oh, I forgot to tell you. This is so funny!” Laura brought a hand over her mouth and giggled girlishly.

  Maggie stared, amazed. How can this be the same woman, who used to drag her heels around this house for years, like a tortured ghost dragging its chains? A mere shadow of her old, jovial self. And now, she’s back again. But that’s the miracle of love . . . “What’s funny?” she asked finally, pushing herself to awake from her reverie as to bask again in her friend’s happiness.

  “Well, as you now, we took your advice to refrain from meeting today, just in case! So, this morning, Christian called me on the telephone. He said he couldn’t bear not to hear my voice the whole day. When Jen came up to my room and said Mr Bird was on the phone, I didn’t know what to think, as I know no one by that name. When I took the call, I couldn’t stop giggling. He suggested I should have guessed Mr Bird was code for The Seabird hotel. What a cheek! Then, he started to blow kisses down the line, and I had a hard time keeping a straight face with Jen dusting in the room!”

  Maggie gave a hearty laugh. “He’s always been such a cheeky devil.” She wiped a tear of sheer amusement from her eye. “Oh bless him, I’m glad the war didn’t beat the humour out of him.”

  “I know! That’s a feat and a half, I believe, considering what it must have been like for him.”