by Karen Clarke
When I stopped speaking, the silence in the room was total. Skip stood up and walked to the door. Lily awoke, tipping her head to look for me. I wiped my leaking eyes on my sleeve. Morag was staring at the floor while Declan combed his fingers through his hair. Both of them looked as shattered as I felt. ‘I can show you Lily’s passport if you want proof,’ I said finally. ‘I have her birth certificate too. His name’s not on it.’
‘No need,’ Morag said quietly.
Declan shook his head. ‘You’re right about it being a mess,’ he said. ‘But don’t feel bad about it, Grace. You did what you had to.’
Morag nodded her agreement. ‘He’s not a good man,’ she said. I had the feeling she didn’t quite believe in Patrick’s innocence; perhaps thought I was covering for him. ‘I still think he got away lightly.’
‘He’s definitely not the good guy I thought he was,’ said Declan.
‘Well, I’m not blameless either.’ I moved Lily to my other shoulder. She curled into me, solid and warm. ‘I’ll have to live with my decisions and so will he, but he’s not completely bad. His work is important. It makes a difference and I know he’ll be a good DA. His brother’s death changed his life; it shaped him. I guess …’ I caught Morag’s eye. ‘I guess we all have our reasons for doing the things we do.’
Declan reached down and stroked Lily’s hair then traced his finger down my cheek. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t honest about why I was here,’ he said. ‘That I doubted you.’
‘I’m sorry too.’ Morag raised her eyebrows at him before getting to her feet and looking at me. ‘I just wish you’d told me you were worried someone had followed you here. You didn’t have to keep it to yourself.’
‘I know, I’m sorry.’
She nodded, signalling the conversation was over. As she went to the door to let Skip out, I said to Declan, ‘Is Hugh really your friend, or was he a cover story and you’ve been staying at the pub all this time?’
He gave a flicker of a smile. ‘I’m not that clever. I knew him way back, from that holiday in Wales I told you about. We talked about joining the army together back then, but he didn’t and we lost touch. It was a good opportunity to make contact and we hit it off again. His job offer’s real, too.’ His gaze grew serious. ‘Everything I said was real except why I was here,’ he said. ‘I could tell you were a good person, even if you didn’t want to talk to me at first and kept asking questions instead. I knew there had to be a good reason why you were being evasive. I didn’t want my suspicions to be true.’ He paused. ‘I was nervous.’
‘You didn’t look it.’
‘I did some breathing exercises.’
‘They worked.’
‘And Lily really does look like you.’ His smile lit a flame of hope in my heart. ‘I’m glad you didn’t kidnap her.’
‘I wish Patrick wasn’t her father—’
‘You weren’t to know how things would turn out,’ he cut in, getting to his feet.
‘I thought I was in love with him.’ I felt a need to explain. ‘It was wrong, but I believed his marriage was over. As soon as I knew it wasn’t I was ready to walk away. I know now that what I felt for him … it wasn’t real.’
‘It’s in the past now.’ Declan’s voice was gentler than I deserved. ‘What happened to Elise was terrible but Patrick didn’t have to marry her. He didn’t have to have an affair, and he definitely didn’t have to take your baby.’ He shook his head, as if the craziness of it had struck him all over again. ‘He made his choices.’
So had I. My stomach clenched. For a second, I was torn back there, to that morning … I dragged myself back to the present. The one thing Morag and Declan hadn’t asked was: Were you there that day? Did you see what happened? assuming, perhaps, that I couldn’t have been or I’d have said so. I would have talked about the trauma of seeing Elise’s open, empty eyes and the look on Patrick’s face – how, for a moment, he’d looked like a man given a reprieve from Death Row. I hoped they would never ask and I wouldn’t have to lie.
Declan left as Ifan was arriving, refusing Morag’s offer to stay and have some dinner. ‘I promised Hugh I’d eat with him tonight, talk business.’
‘You might be staying in Wales then?’ I asked him.
‘Do you want me to?’
‘Do you want to?’
‘Do you always answer a question with a question?’
Smiling, I walked him out to the car with Lily. ‘You followed us,’ I said. ‘Did you go all the way to Berkshire?’
He didn’t bother denying it. ‘I thought you’d clocked me at the services,’ he admitted. ‘I felt so bad, I turned round and went back to Hugh’s.’
‘It wasn’t the first time.’
‘I tried to find out where you were living the night you left the pub but the roads round here are too quiet, especially at night. It was pretty obvious, I guess. I’m sorry I scared you.’
‘How did you know I was in Fenbrith in the first place?’
‘I’m afraid I followed you to the coach station.’ He rubbed his jaw embarrassed. ‘A classic case of “follow that cab”. When I knew where you were heading, I hired a car. I watched you get off the coach outside the pub and thought you were staying there. I’d made contact with Hugh and he invited me over so I went, thinking I’d find you the next day, but when I came back you weren’t there. I hung about, hoping to bump into you.’
My mind swam with this new information. ‘At the restaurant, Ana’s uncle said you weren’t Irish. What was that about?’
‘Maybe it was the James Bond thing kicking in.’ He looked sheepish. ‘It’s pretty easy to slip into a New York accent when you’re Irish,’ he said, doing a convincing impression. ‘Sneaky, huh?’
‘Don’t get used to it.’
He nodded. ‘I won’t.’ As he opened the car door, he paused. ‘You know, what really made me think I was wrong was when you breastfed Lily. I thought, you couldn’t be her nanny if you were doing that. Unless you were one of those wet nurses, but that didn’t make sense, either.’
‘I breastfed her on the plane,’ I said. ‘Didn’t you see?’
‘I didn’t dare get too close in case you spotted me.’
‘I suppose you asking if I’d ever worked with children was another way of digging for information?’
‘Let’s just say, I’ll never be a detective.’ He rolled his shoulders, as though loosening tension there. ‘Look, let’s meet tomorrow at the café with the Welsh cakes. We’ll start over. No secrets this time.’
No secrets. ‘I’d like that.’
‘Ten o’clock?’
‘We’ll be there.’
‘Grace,’ Morag called from the doorway. ‘Your food’s getting cold.’
Chapter 40
Morag drove us to Fenbrith the following morning. ‘I’ll be your chaperone,’ she said. I knew it still rankled that Declan had entered our lives under false pretences, even though his motives had been pure. Perhaps after Bernhard, and everything I’d told them about Patrick, she was right to not trust men, though she’d seemed happy in Ifan’s company the evening before. They hadn’t gone to the pub after we’d eaten, but sat talking quietly long after I’d gone to bed with Lily, too mentally drained to summon new thoughts and make conversation. I knew they were discussing what had happened to Morag, not me. Perhaps she would never tell anybody my story, even Ifan. It was hardly one for the family archives.
‘I’m going to make contact with Isaac,’ she’d said over dinner, revealing he would be twenty-six in May, and had been adopted by a Scottish couple when he was a few days old. She’d given birth alone in a London hospital and returned to work a week later.
She’d been hoping Bernhard would reveal Isaac’s exact whereabouts, maybe even a phone number, but he’d refused to speak once he was in custody, though a small envelope containing more baby hair had been found in his pocket. Morag believed his adoptive parents had kept it for him. ‘He must have given it to Bernhard to give me.’ She knew the name of
the couple who adopted him. ‘It won’t be too hard to find him.’ She could have made contact any time but had resisted; didn’t even ask for a photo. ‘I couldn’t have coped,’ she said while Ifan cleared away our plates and made coffee. ‘It was better to make a clean break, except it never is. Not really.’
I’d thought of Mum, missing me all the time I’d been away, but letting me go because she thought it was what I wanted, glad that I was happy and safe.
‘Will you tell your mum about what happened?’ Morag said now as if tracking my thoughts, slowing to let a car pull out in front of the van.
‘Maybe,’ I said. ‘I’m tired of keeping secrets.’
I’d slept deeply the night before but had woken with a heaviness in the pit of my stomach, knowing there was one last thing I had to do before I could really move on.
If Declan was surprised when Morag entered the café and sat down opposite, he didn’t show it, greeting her easily, asking what we’d like to drink. ‘My treat.’
He made a fuss of Lily, who looked bright-eyed and cute in a knitted jacket the colour of a strawberry milkshake – another of Annie’s donations. ‘I got her this from the store next door.’ He produced a bendy giraffe and waggled it at Lily. ‘It’s ethical and good for teething.’ He laid it on her chest and her little hands patted its head. ‘Hey, you should get her swimming,’ he said. ‘They’re never too young to learn.’ He sat back in his chair and gave me a searching look. His hair looked freshly washed and he seemed relaxed, as if he’d slept well after coming to terms with everything I’d told him. In contrast, I was pasty-faced and hadn’t bothered to comb my hair before coming out. ‘What is it?’ he said.
I was perched on the edge of the chair beside Morag, still with my coat on, Lily on the table between us in her car seat. ‘I wanted to ask you something.’
‘Shall I go?’ Morag, halfway out of her jacket, made to push her chair back.
‘No, no, it’s fine.’ My heart was thrashing now the moment had come. ‘Stay.’ I waited until the waitress had taken our order, giving Declan an extra-wide smile before sashaying away.
‘Go on.’ He sat forward, brow furrowed. ‘Anything.’
I forced a calming breath. ‘Do you still have Patrick’s number?’
Declan’s frown deepened. ‘Yes, but I don’t intend to ever use it again.’ He reached into his pocket. ‘Shall I delete it?’
‘No, I …’ I bit my lip. I had to do this. ‘Could I have it? I want to call him.’
‘What?’ Morag stared at me aghast. ‘That’s not a good idea, Grace.’
‘Why?’ Declan’s tone was more restrained, but his face showed concern.
‘I have to know whatever was between us is really over, that I don’t have to keep looking over my shoulder.’
‘It is,’ said Declan, at the same time as Morag cautioned, ‘It’ll only stir things up. You should leave it well alone.’
‘Just a quick call to put my mind at rest.’
‘It’s not a good idea.’ Declan was frowning again. ‘I honestly think he’ll leave you be. He’s got bigger things on his mind.’
‘I have to know what he told Elise’s parents.’ The words felt tight in my throat. ‘About why there was no baby.’
‘Why does that matter?’ Morag turned to look at me properly, her dark eyes raking my face. ‘You said he’d think of something. It doesn’t matter what it was.’
‘It does if he mentioned me, if he told them what really happened with the baby.’ I took a ragged breath. ‘Her parents are well connected and they have money. They might want revenge.’
‘That’s a bit dramatic.’ Declan shook his head. ‘Whatever he told them, he won’t have implicated himself or you in anything shady. I’m sure it’s over, Grace. Let it go.’
‘Please.’ I couldn’t keep the desperation from my tone. ‘I don’t think I can until I know for sure.’
He was silent for a moment, trading an anxious look with Morag.
‘I promise this will be the last of it. I’ll delete his number afterwards and you should too. But I have to know.’
‘Give it to her.’ Morag sounded decisive, touching the back of my hand with her fingers in a show of support. ‘It’s about closure.’
‘That’s it.’ My grateful smile quickly dropped away. The thought of hearing Patrick’s voice made my stomach swoop.
‘Fine,’ Declan said, still shaking his head. ‘But I’m not happy about it.’
Rising, I pressed a kiss on the tip of Lily’s nose then headed down the street and round the corner, where I sat on a bench opposite a grey, gothic-looking church surrounded by gravestones. Births, marriages, deaths. It seemed like a fitting view.
It was 5 a.m. in New York. I had the element of surprise on my side if Patrick was sleeping, though I doubted he would be. Work was always a distraction. He’d be putting in more hours than ever. Even if he was at the office, I was confident a call from abroad would pique his interest.
My heart tapped a rapid beat as I pressed in the number Declan had given me. Patrick’s personal number; the one I’d never been allowed to have.
As it connected, I rubbed at a stain on my jeans and saw my hand was shaking. A woman cycled by – the one I’d seen chatting outside the post office on my first trip to the village – a bunch of daffodils in the basket on the handlebars. She gave me a curious glance and I wondered whether I looked as nervous as I felt.
Three long rings were followed by a short delay, then Patrick’s voice was in my ear, as close as if he was sitting on the bench beside me.
‘Hullo?’ It was soft, querying – not sleepy. ‘Who is this?’ I’d forgotten how American he sounded. Foreign. A stranger, almost.
‘It’s me.’ The words emerged as a whisper. ‘Grace,’ I said, raising my voice. ‘Please don’t hang up. I won’t contact you again after this, but I need to know, Patrick.’
The silence was so long, I wondered if he’d disconnected the call and I hadn’t realised. ‘Need to know what?’ He wasn’t angry or cold. He sounded … tired. ‘What do you want from me, Grace?’
I tried to steady my breathing. ‘Just to know what you told Elise’s parents.’
He expelled a long breath. ‘I told them the truth.’
‘The truth?’ Panic bubbled inside my stomach.
‘The truth we decided on.’ I burned with guilt at his use of we because it was true. I’d gone along with the lie. ‘You didn’t leave me much choice, remember?’ he said quietly. ‘I thought it best to come clean. I told them Elise had lost the baby but couldn’t face telling anyone, and that she’d started drinking again. I said she pleaded with me to find her a baby that we could raise as our own, so I’d looked into surrogacy and found someone already several months pregnant, looking for a childless couple to raise the child.’ I held my breath. ‘I explained Elise wanted to get to know the baby before showing her to anyone, but at the last minute the surrogate changed her mind and decided to keep her.’
My lungs felt constricted. I stood up and circuited the bench, gulping in air. ‘They believed it?’
‘Why wouldn’t they?’ he said. ‘It was true. I just didn’t mention any names. To be honest, Grace, they were too devastated to want the ins and outs. They were angry with the “surrogate”.’ He gave the word quotation marks. ‘But I know they were relieved too. Like I told you in the first place, the idea of their daughter raising a child that wasn’t hers didn’t sit right with them.’
‘And they don’t blame you?’
‘Of course not.’ Indignant now. ‘They knew how hard Elise found it to stop drinking. They read between the lines regarding her fall; they’re not stupid, Grace.’ Stoopid. ‘She had a high alcohol level in her blood.’ He paused. ‘They’ve been really supportive.’
‘Lucky you.’ I couldn’t help it. ‘You come up smelling of roses.’
‘Grace, I don’t blame you for threatening me, or for running away and taking the baby, I really don’t.’ The baby. As if Lily was
nothing to do with him. ‘When I think back, it was a crazy idea. I don’t know how I thought it would work. I was desperate, I guess, and desperate people do desperate things.’ I didn’t say that he hadn’t seemed that desperate when he came to find me; rather he’d been happy to have found a solution to the problem of his wife. ‘How is she, Grace?’
‘You don’t get to ask that.’
Another soft sigh. ‘How are you?’
‘I’m fine, happy,’ I said. ‘It’s business as usual for you then?’
‘Grace, I …’ He hesitated, perhaps thinking it was no more than he deserved. ‘I feel terrible, if it’s any consolation. I’m ashamed of my actions. I’m working every day to do better, to be a better person, make the world a safer place.’
‘That should be your campaign speech.’
He laughed, but it was a small, sad sound. ‘I guess I’m not cut out for marriage and kids after all. I’ll stick to serving my country in future,’ he said. ‘I wish you well, Grace, I really do, but it’s probably best if you don’t contact me again.’
‘I won’t,’ I said. ‘Goodbye, Patrick.’
I ended the call and deleted the number, knowing it really would be the last time we spoke. I had no idea what I would tell Lily about her father when she asked. Maybe I’d say I didn’t know who he was. Would that be better than saying he hadn’t wanted her? She would be surrounded by love; I’d make sure of that. She wouldn’t for a single moment feel the loss of the man who’d fathered her. I thought of Declan then; a far better man for all Patrick’s declarations about justice and serving his country. There were more ways than one to be good. I sat back down, letting Patrick’s words wind through me. I felt another, stronger release inside, as if a tight band around my chest had finally broken.