Through their personal assistants, she’d finally arranged to meet them both at a restaurant – a high-end one, not surprisingly, so she’d dressed smartly today. Well, as smartly as charity shop finds allowed. Her mother, as usual, would be in her trademark sharp, black Armani or Versace suit. Autumn checked her watch and was relieved to see that she was on time. Her mother and father would be on a tight schedule and she couldn’t afford to be late. It was something of a miracle that they’d both been able to make themselves available at short notice.
When she arrived at the restaurant, they were already seated and waiting. Her mother always sat as if she had a steel rod through her spine. Her father had the air of a man who’d rather be somewhere else and checked his watch every few minutes. Autumn felt her stomach clench as soon as she was in their vicinity.
‘Hello, darling,’ her mother said as she was shown to their table. She stood and air-kissed both of Autumn’s cheeks.
Her father stood up and sort of rubbed her arm by way of greeting.
‘Hi, Daddy.’ She sat awkwardly between them like a floppy volume of poems between two rigid bookends.
‘We’ve already ordered,’ her father said. Watch check. ‘They do an excellent carpaccio of beef here.’
‘I’m vegetarian.’
‘Ah, yes.’ Another quick look.
‘How are you feeling?’ her mother asked.
‘Lost,’ she admitted. ‘I miss Rich terribly.’
‘So do we, darling,’ her mother said, not a hair on her head out of place.
Autumn thought that she didn’t really look as if she was suffering any kind of anguish.
‘It’s a terrible business,’ her mother said, scanning the room.
Business? Is this how a person should describe their child dying? Autumn took a deep breath and let the word go.
‘Your mother isn’t sleeping,’ her father said with an irritated shake of his head as if his son’s death was an inconvenience.
‘That must be dreadful.’ If they heard the slight sarcasm in her voice, they didn’t acknowledge it.
The waiter came and delivered her parents’ meals.
‘You don’t mind if we start, do you?’ Her father checked his watch again.
‘Of course not,’ Autumn answered tightly.
‘I have a big case to prepare for,’ her mother said. ‘I can’t stay long.’
The waiter came. ‘Nothing for me, thank you.’
‘You must have something,’ her father said.
It was easier not to argue. So, Autumn ordered some food, the first veggie thing she saw on the menu, though the last thing she felt like doing was eating. The restaurant was noisy, the sound reverberating off the wooden floor. Plus it was filled with corporate types and lawyers talking loudly, which didn’t help. It was the sort of place that her parents loved. They both tucked into their meals – raw meat on her father’s part – while she sat and watched.
It was obvious that there was no further conversation forthcoming and there was no point beating about the bush, as she knew the clock was ticking. ‘I wanted to talk to you about the Stolford Centre.’ Both of their faces were blank. ‘The place where I work,’ she reminded them.
Her mother lowered her voice. ‘The drugs place?’
‘Yes. I have a pressing issue. The funding for the future is uncertain,’ she pushed on, even though her nerve was beginning to falter. ‘Addison wants to set it up as a charitable trust. I thought, perhaps, we could do it in Rich’s name.’
They both look horrified at the thought.
‘I don’t think that’s necessary,’ her mother said. ‘We should remember Richard in our own personal ways.’
Which in their case, Autumn thought, was to pretty much ignore that he’d ever existed. She knew that this was a waste of time. ‘You have more money than you know what to do with. I thought you might like to do something noble with it.’
Her father sighed. ‘How much do you want?’ He took a surreptitious glance at his watch and glanced longingly at the door. It was clear he was keen to get away. Autumn’s food hadn’t even arrived yet.
‘I was thinking a hundred grand,’ she said more calmly than she felt. In for a penny, in for a pound. Literally. ‘That should start us off.’
Even her father flinched at that. Though his usual inscrutable expression quickly returned. ‘I’ll transfer the money into your bank account. You can do with it what you will.’
‘Thanks, Daddy. I appreciate it.’
He dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. ‘I have to fly. Client meeting in five.’ He patted her shoulder. ‘We should do this more often.’
‘I’ll see you at home, darling,’ her mother said to him. ‘I’ll be late tonight.’
He nodded and strode from the restaurant.
‘How is Addison?’ her mother asked when she turned back to Autumn.
‘He’s well, thank you.’
‘Any plans for the wedding yet?’
‘No.’ She shook her head. How could she tell her mother that it was the last thing on earth that was on her mind, that she and Addison seemed further apart than ever? ‘Not yet.’
‘I won’t look at hats for the moment, then.’
‘Probably best not to.’ She wanted to talk to her mother about Willow. She wanted to tell her that, after all these long, lonely years, she’d decided to look for her daughter. Perhaps she could ask why she’d thought it was the best thing to do for anyone to put the baby up for adoption. She wanted to understand their motivation. Yet, if she was honest with herself, she already knew what it was. Her parents didn’t want any ripples marring their perfectly smooth pond. How would they have coped with a new baby in their busy, structured lives when they didn’t really want much to do with the two children they had? It was pointless even raising it. She would be the only one who would end up hurting.
Instead, she bit down her questions and diverted her mother onto her favourite subject. ‘How are things at work, Mummy?’
For the next fifteen minutes, her mother proceeded to tell her.
‘Well,’ her mother said when she’d finished her data download. ‘I’m sorry to dash too.’ She was already half out of her seat. ‘I would rather you kept our family name out of anything to do with drugs. Daddy and I can’t really be associated with that place. We do have our reputations to think of.’
‘I realise that.’ It was perfectly clear that mattered much more to them than creating a memorial to their son.
Her mother air-kissed Autumn’s cheek. ‘Lovely to see you.’ Then she too was striding out of the restaurant as her father had done.
Autumn put down her knife and fork, appetite gone. She’d got the money as Addison had wanted, but there was no joy to be had in it. Everything felt wrong. Very wrong.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
‘We need to go in a minute, Lewis.’ Nadia was finishing the washing up from last night that she’d been too tired to do. She was still too tired to do it now, but couldn’t face coming home to it later.
‘OK.’ Her son pushed his plate away and jumped down from his chair. ‘Have I got two mummies?’
‘No,’ she laughed as she dried her hands. ‘There’s just me.’
‘What’s Auntie Autumn, then?’
‘She’s an auntie, silly billy.’
Lewis didn’t look convinced. ‘She acts like a mummy.’
Nadia came and knelt before him. ‘That’s because she loves you very much and she helps me out with looking after you.’
‘Can she be my mummy too? Christian at nursery has got no daddy and two mummies. He says it’s cool.’
‘Ah.’ The penny dropped. ‘Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you but you have just one mummy and always will. You have a very special auntie, though. Tell Christian that.’
‘OK. Can I have a chocolate off the Christmas tree please, Mummy?’
‘Did you finish all your lunch?
‘Yes.’
She checked his plate which was, i
ndeed, empty. ‘You can have one.’
‘Yay!’ Her son scurried into the living room.
‘Just one!’ she shouted after him as she took his plate to the sink.
She was working this afternoon at the shop and was due to start soon, so she’d need to hurry to get Lewis to nursery on time. One day it would be lovely to think that all this rushing about could stop. She’d enjoyed being a full-time mum when Toby was the breadwinner and now every moment she spent away from Lewis was hard. It was time that she would never get back with him. It was lovely that Autumn cared so much for him, but it was also difficult for her to see another woman – albeit a good friend – doing the fun things with him. Nadia wanted to be the one taking him to the playground, to the Winter Wonderland. It should be his mother who was the one playing Lego with him on the living-room floor when it was raining. Now they never seemed to have enough hours together. Nadia felt she was always hurrying him to eat his food, or into bed or out of the door. Today was no exception. She needed a partner to help her with all this and Lewis needed a good father figure in his life. Perhaps that person could be Jacob.
Lewis came back a moment or two later with chocolate round his mouth.
‘Teeth. Quickly. Don’t make me ask you twice.’
So, without argument, he rushed upstairs to brush his teeth.
When he bounded down the stairs again, she grabbed him into her arms and held on tightly.
‘I love you,’ she said. ‘To the moon and back.’
‘I love you too,’ he said. ‘Can I have another chocolate from the tree to take with me?’
‘Don’t push it,’ Nadia said with a smile. ‘Come on, or you’ll be late for nursery.’
She got her son’s coat and, while he wriggled and fidgeted, somehow managed to get it on him. Then they were out of the door and, his tiny hand nestled in hers, were rushing down the street.
When they reached the nursery, breathless and harried, one of the assistants, Hollie, came out to meet them. ‘Hello, Lewis. Hello, Mrs Stone.’
‘Hi,’ Lewis said.
‘We’re going to do some painting this afternoon, Lewis. You’ll like that.’
Lewis looked as if he could take or leave painting. Nadia wished that she could stay with him, both of them getting covered with paint.
‘I’ll take Lewis’s coat off for you,’ she said to Nadia. ‘You look as if you’re in a rush.’
‘Thank you. I am. Story of my life.’
‘No worries.’ Lewis happily submitted himself to Hollie’s ministrations.
‘Mummy will be back soon,’ Nadia said, glad to be collecting him this evening. The hours at work would fly by with that in mind. ‘Be good.’
She hugged and kissed Lewis again as she left him in the corridor of the nursery. Some days it was more of a wrench than others and this was one of the tough days. Reluctantly, she left her son and headed towards the Tube.
Nadia was trying to distract herself from thinking about Lewis and, if she was honest, about Jacob too. So much was crowding her thoughts today. She was sorting through a rack of new dresses that Tarak had brought in. As if she didn’t have enough to worry about, when she’d arrived he’d winked at her and given her a lascivious smile when her sister’s back had been turned. Creep. Now he’d gone to visit the other stores, but he’d be back to lock up later. She shuddered at the thought.
Anita brought her a cup of tea and asked, ‘Is everything OK with you?’
Nadia turned, distracted. ‘Yes, fine. Just got a lot on my plate at the moment.’
‘You’ve been quiet since you got here. You’re not coming down with something?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘What are you and Lewis doing for Christmas? We’d love you to come over to us. It would be our first Christmas as a family again.’
‘What about Mum and Dad? They still haven’t spoken to me.’
‘Give them time. Christmas might be the perfect opportunity to build bridges. Families should be together.’
‘I think I’m going away with the girls from the Chocolate Lovers’ Club.’ She didn’t like to add that they’d been more like family to her for the past few years. Plus there was the matter of her sleazy brother-in-law. That was enough to knock any Christmas spirit out of her. ‘Chantal is organising something. I’m not sure what yet.’
Anita looked a little put out.
‘But perhaps next year.’ Nadia wrapped her arm round her sister. ‘We’re together again and that’s all that matters.’
‘I have to go to the bank. Tarak asked me to. Do you mind if I go straight home? It’s parents’ evening for Daman and I want to make sure that the boys have dinner before we have to go out.’
‘Of course not. I’ll finish up here.’ She wondered if Tarak was simply trying to get her on her own again. This had to stop.
Sure enough, as soon as Anita had left for the bank, her brother-in-law appeared, grinning like the Cheshire cat.
‘Just you and me, Nadia,’ he said as he closed the door behind him. ‘Cosy.’
‘If you say so.’ She busied herself folding the T-shirts and jumpers stacked on the shelves. ‘I’ll just finish up here and then I’d better go to collect Lewis. I can’t be late.’
He caught her wrist as she passed him. ‘Did you think about what I asked?’
‘No,’ Nadia said when, in fact, it had hardly been off her mind.
‘Meet me,’ he said. ‘It will be fun. I’ll book a room at a good hotel.’
‘You think that’s an attractive proposition for me?’
Tarak shrugged. ‘We can have dinner, whatever you like.’
‘Why don’t you take your wife, my sister, to a nice hotel?’
‘Sometimes a little spice on the side can help a marriage.’
‘Shall I tell Anita that? Do you think she’d be interested to know what you’ve suggested?’
His face was impassive. ‘She wouldn’t believe you. Anita trusts me implicitly. Besides, what the eyes don’t see, the heart doesn’t grieve over.’
‘It’s never going to happen, Tarak. Never. I don’t know how to spell it out any more clearly. I don’t want to resign from my job. Despite your suggestions, I like it here. I enjoy working with Anita. You and I should maintain a professional relationship, nothing more.’
‘You’ll come round,’ he said, cocksure. ‘I know you like me. You always did. We could have some good times, you and I.’
‘You’re wrong. So very wrong.’
Her brother-in-law laughed and headed to the back of the shop.
This couldn’t go on, Nadia thought, it was wearing. She’d have to do something – and soon – to put Tarak in his place.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chantal and Stacey, with babies in their buggies, were waiting patiently. Ted, less so.
A family trip to have a photograph taken with Santa had seemed like a good idea and Harrods’ grotto had been deemed the best place.
‘Is this really necessary?’ Ted said, crossly. ‘Neither of them has a clue what’s going on. Can’t we come back when they’re three? Or five? Or maybe never?’
Chantal had bought both of the babies cute little red outfits, white woolly tights and sparkly red shoes. They were both wearing furry reindeer ears. Lana and Elsie couldn’t register any higher on the adorable scale if they tried. She fussed with Lana’s skirt. ‘It will be something lovely to have for their memory boxes.’
Ted didn’t look appeased.
‘I have a bar of gorgeous salted caramel chocolate to while away the time.’ She passed him a couple of squares.
He swallowed them without tasting. Obviously something more was required.
‘I’ll buy you coffee and a cake afterwards,’ she promised. ‘Just enter into the spirit. It’s Christmas! Resistance is futile.’
Ted sighed. ‘You’re telling me.’
Santa was seated at the end of a glittering grotto of white frosted trees, flanked by two pretty
– and rather shapely – elves in green velvet suits. He was on an oversized gold throne and looked every inch the part. His red suit was lavishly trimmed with white fur and his snow-white beard curled down to his chest. He was ho-ho-ho-ing on an industrial scale.
They moved forward in the queue and Elsie started to cry. Stacey lifted her out of the buggy.
‘I’ll take her.’ Ted held out his arms and Stacey handed over their daughter.
‘It might be a little bit of wind.’
Ted rocked her gently and rubbed her back. Elsie’s grizzling subsided. ‘Hush, hush,’ Ted cooed. ‘Hush, hush.’
‘I wanted to talk to you about our Christmas arrangements,’ Chantal ventured. ‘I was thinking about us all going away together.’
Ted raised an eyebrow.
‘Not just the five of us, but the other girls too. And maybe Clive and Tristan.’ Maybe Nadia would want to bring Jacob too, but she hadn’t addressed that. Ted would only need to know when it was confirmed. ‘A big house party.’
He looked slightly relieved that it wasn’t to be just him, Chantal and Stacey and the babies. But he didn’t look overly convinced either. It was strange that she’d managed to come to terms with their unusual arrangement and yet Ted seemed to be the one struggling with it most. Stacey was doing much better now but, at the end of the day, she was still so isolated with no family around her. Whereas Chantal felt strong and capable, Stacey seemed so vulnerable. She was the one who needed help and support.
They were at the front of the queue now and Santa was waiting, open-armed with a beaming smile.
‘You go first,’ Chantal said to Stacey. ‘You too, Ted.’
‘Must I?’
‘Yes,’ Chantal laughed. ‘This is your children’s first Christmas. Be proud.’
He relented and when Stacey was settled on the throne next to Santa, he handed over Elsie to her and then joined them.
The official photographer took a portrait for posterity and Chantal took her own snap with her phone. They all gave winning smiles and there was no doubt that Ted and Stacey made a great-looking couple. Chantal felt a momentary pang of jealousy. Stacey looked like she’d stepped out of a Boden catalogue while Chantal was still wearing post-baby clothes and a harried expression. Chantal’s frown deepened. Perhaps it wasn’t Stacey who needed the support after all.
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