‘If Louise knew that’s how Luke’s father felt about her, I’m not surprised she didn’t say anything. After Luke died she probably thought if she told us we’d try and take the baby away from her. What a mess!’
If it were true. So far it was only speculation. But it would explain Louise’s hostility towards me, and why Emma was always somewhere else on the rare occasion I dropped in to Carol’s.
A red-hot anger flashed through me. For ten years I’d been denied a granddaughter, a living part of my son; denied a child I would have loved and nurtured, who could have helped fill the gaping chasm left by Luke’s death. How circumstances might have been different if we’d all known the truth.
If it’s true, the voice at the back of my mind whispered again.
‘Back to my original question,’ I said. ‘What do we do? How can we prove it?’
It was Faith’s turn to pace. ‘Ben said we shouldn’t do anything without thinking it through thoroughly. He said one option would be waiting until Emma’s old enough and then approach her about a paternity test.’
‘No! If she is my granddaughter, I’m not waiting God knows how many more years to find out. I’ve already missed out on the first ten years of her life.’
‘Yes, but like Ben says, if we don’t go about it the right way, and Louise gets a hint of what we suspect, she could take Emma and disappear, and then we’d never get to know her.’
‘That’s assuming she is Luke’s daughter.’
‘Not that there’s any doubt in my mind.’ Faith scrubbed at her face, and then yawned widely. ‘I’m not sleeping very well these days,’ she said. ‘Up and down to the loo. You know how it is.’
‘I do know how it is,’ I said. Faith wasn’t far from forty and this pregnancy would be taking its toll on her physically.
‘Speaking of which—’ she said, and toddled off to the toilet.
‘My bet is that Doug knows more than he’s ever let on,’ I said the second Faith reappeared in the kitchen. I took our empty cups to the sink and rinsed them, and then turned to her. ‘And the more I think about it, how could Carol not know, or at least suspect? She must have known they were seeing each other.’
‘Why?’ Faith said. ‘You wouldn’t have a clue about the men I went out with before I met Ben.’
‘True,’ I said, because Faith had always been as secretive about everything as Grace had been open.
Faith stretched, yawning again. ‘As much as I hate not doing anything, I think Ben’s right and we should wait and think it through.’
‘All right,’ I said after a beat. ‘But if Tim calls me I’m going to ask him what he knows. Grace won’t know anything, of course.’
‘What about Carol?’
‘I won’t ask her outright, but if there’s an opening, I’ll ask.’
She thought about that for a moment and nodded slowly. ‘But then she’ll tell Louise …’
‘I’m not so sure about that. And if it isn’t true, it won’t matter.’
There’d been a couple of occasions when Carol and I had been chatting over coffee, that I’d got the impression she wanted to tell me something, or ask me something.
‘Whatever.’ Faith said. ‘You know her better than I do. Maybe I’ll give Aunty Kaylene a ring. She might know why Dad hates Carol Claremont.’
‘Be careful, love. Kaylene is a gossip.’
‘Yeah, but I’ve always got on okay with her.’
‘One thing’s for certain, it’s going to feel mighty uncomfortable looking Carol in the eye the next time I see her,’ I said.
Faith grunted. ‘I’ll leave the albums and that here,’ she said. ‘Don’t want the kids getting nosy. Liam’s smart enough to ask questions. And just as likely to say something to Emma.’
‘No, we don’t want that happening.’ I packed the albums and two other items back into the green bag. ‘I’ll put them away in my wardrobe.’
I walked out to the car with Faith. She looked tired but otherwise well; the lemon-coloured maternity top complemented her colouring. I told her so.
‘Ben’s been great. He’s been dealing with Liam and Amelia so I don’t have to get up so early. I’m trying to rest more during the day.’
‘How was your blood pressure this morning?’
‘Okay, but then like I said to the nurse, it usually is in the morning. I’ll go home and put my feet up. Make the most of Ben being home. It’s not long until he goes back.’
She heaved herself into the driver’s seat, started the engine and powered down the window before pulling the door closed. ‘I wonder what Dad’ll think about it? Another grandchild,’ she said, and slid on her sunglasses. ‘Not that he dotes on the ones he’s got.’ There was no rancour in her tone.
‘What do you think about it?’
She picked up a Chapstick from the console between the front seats, smeared on a layer and rolled her lips together.
‘If it turns out I’m right, I’m okay with being an aunty. Liam and Amelia would love to have a cousin. There’s no indication that Tim will come up with the goods, and Grace has left her run too late.’
With that she waved and reversed out of the driveway. Black and white was how Faith liked things to be in her world. Greys threw her completely. I chuckled and went inside.
47
Grace
She was flustered, which was so out of character. There was a meeting she needed to be at and she was running late, also unlike her usual modus operandi. Hurrying, she fumbled with a report and the pages spilled across the desk. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth before gathering up the papers and stapling them together.
Her conversation with Aaron early that morning continued to play on her mind. Even when he was working he never blew her off, and this morning he had. Aaron had been terse and distant, which was so unlike his usual self. He’d insisted nothing was wrong but she knew he wasn’t telling her the truth.
Their exchange had upset her. The very uncertainty of their relationship was beginning to take its toll. Some days Grace wished she had the courage to call it all off, thinking that would be the less painful option in the long run. Then the thought of not seeing him, not hearing his voice, never touching him again, had her gasping for breath.
To top it off, a few minutes ago a work colleague had thrown her completely by insinuating she’d been on the receiving end of a kickback.
‘I hear you had a fancy weekend in Paris,’ Terry Smyth said with a smirk, draping himself in her visitor’s chair without invitation.
‘A friend from home was visiting and yes, we went to Paris for the weekend. It’s no secret,’ she’d replied, without looking up from her work.
‘Posh hotel, sumptuous dinners, champagne, first class tickets …’
Registering his oily tone she’d paused and looked up, taken aback to see malice in Terry’s eyes.
About ten years her senior, Terry was considered attractive, in a middle-aged metrosexual kind of way. Grace had never warmed to him, refusing several invitations for drinks and/or dinner.
That’s when it hit her what Terry was hinting at, and the probable reason why. Icy fingers gripped her gut.
Innuendo, no matter how unsubstantiated, could be as damaging as accusation. Grace stood up. Bracing her hands on the desk, she leaned towards him.
‘We traveled economy on Eurostar, we stayed in a modest hotel on Rue Tronchet, we self-catered. I have receipts, credit card statements. Not that it’s any of your damned business.’
With that Terry had held up his hands defensively. ‘No need to get your knickers in a twist,’ he’d said.
With a final smirk he’d swung to his feet and ambled out, leaving Grace fuming—and flustered. She hoped he’d had his fun, and taken whatever satisfaction he’d needed to compensate for her spurning his advances. Creep.
It wasn’t unheard of for senior analysts to accept ‘gifts’ for choosing one investment fund over another. A bit like doctors and pharmaceutical companies, and it was deeme
d just as unacceptable.
For Grace, nothing could have been further from the truth. She was scrupulous in all her dealings and expected the same from others.
The day went downhill from there. Because Grace had been late for the meeting they’d started without her, and she’d felt as if she’d been running behind all day. Lucy Trudeau had snapped at her and Sue, her exec assistant, went home at lunchtime pleading a migraine.
Mid-afternoon, after a frustratingly long lunch meeting mentoring a junior analyst on her team, Grace walked towards her office to see a man silhouetted in the office window.
‘Grant?’ she said, dropping her handbag onto the visitor’s chair.
He turned around. Delighted, she took an involuntary step towards him. But when he remained rooted to the spot, hands deep in the pockets of his trousers, she pulled herself up.
‘No one said you were coming back.’
‘No one except Richard knew.’
‘So, he is going to retire. Speculation has been rife, but then we heard that his wife had improved and he’ll be back to work soon.’
‘And rightly so. To my knowledge, he’s not retiring in the foreseeable future.’
‘Oh.’ Grace moved her handbag to the bottom drawer of her desk. ‘Sit down,’ she said, gesturing towards the visitor’s chair. ‘Do you want tea, coffee?’
He shook his head, and remained standing. Grace perched one hip on the edge of her desk. ‘How’s Jordan?’
After his son’s accident and his immediate departure home to Sydney, they’d kept in touch. But as the weeks had merged into months, the contact had lessened. It’d been ages since they’d talked.
‘He’s still in rehab, but as a day patient. The doctors and allied health people continue to maintain their optimism. He’s staying with Patrice and her new man for the time being.’
She studied him. He’d dropped a kilo or two, he looked fit and reassuringly familiar. ‘How are you?’
‘You know … Hong Kong last week, New York next week. Then I’m quitting altogether.’
Grace blinked, replayed what he’d said. ‘What?’ she said, sure she’d misheard.
‘I’ve resigned. This is my last hurrah.’
She stared at him. He cleared his throat, shuffled his feet.
‘One of your children nearly dies, Grace, you reassess your priorities. Jordan’s recovering but he has an acquired brain injury and he’ll always need care and support. I’m going to buy a house further down the coast, and he’ll eventually come and live with me. It’s what we both want.’
‘Grant, I don’t know what to say—’
He held up a hand. ‘You don’t have to say anything, Grace. I know what sort of a parent I’ve been, but that’s had to change. I’m just sorry for the reasons that brought about the change.’
‘How’s your daughter taking it all?’
He laughed, genuine mirth, and Grace felt herself smile. She’d always enjoyed his laugh.
‘Carly? She’s taken it all in her stride. Many a day she’s propped up me and her mother, as well as being there for her brother. And she’s decided to transfer to a nursing degree.’
‘Good for her! As you know, Mum was a nurse, and my sister, Faith, still is. Carly could do a lot worse.’
‘Yeah, and it’s good for me as well. It means not too many more years and she’ll be paying her own way, at long last.’
It was Grant’s turn to study Grace, and she fidgeted under his scrutiny.
‘Enough about me, how are you?’ he said. ‘Fully recovered from the glandular fever I take it. Still enjoying the job? London? Lucy said your brother and his mate visited a few weeks ago.’
Ridiculously, Grace thought, her cheeks pinked up. ‘You’ve talked to Lucy already?’
‘Sure have. You weren’t here when I arrived.’
Grace glanced at the time. ‘What are your plans for this evening? I need to go over a couple of reports, but then we could have a drink, an early dinner.’ He didn’t answer for a beat and Grace rushed to add, ‘If you’re free, that is.’
‘Can’t tonight,’ he said. ‘I’m having dinner with Richard, and a few of the other execs.’
Of course, Grace thought, they’d want to give him a send-off. He’d spent considerable time in the London office over the years, and it was and always would be a boys’ club.
‘No worries,’ she said, sitting down. ‘Don’t drink too much.’ The words came out more brusquely than she’d intended.
‘We probably will,’ he said. ‘I am free tomorrow night. I can cook you dinner.’
Grace looked up from her computer screen, meeting his gaze. ‘That would be lovely. Text me a shopping list.’
He acknowledged the request and made for the door. ‘I’ll bring the wine. And you can tell me how you really are then.’
Grace stared after him, shook her head, and then applied herself to interpreting the report in front of her.
The following day she left work at six to pick up Grant’s list of groceries on her way home. She whizzed around the apartment with the duster and vacuum cleaner, then showered and changed into a longline angora jumper and thick leggings.
Catching her tired reflection in the bathroom mirror, Grace relented and applied light makeup, finishing with lipstick and a spritz of perfume.
She surveyed the results and was satisfied. Amazing what a good stick concealer could do. And when Grant Hughes asked her how she was, really, she’d say, Great, knowing the bags under her eyes wouldn’t give away her fib.
Grant arrived just as she’d been chopping the vegetables as he’d directed. It wasn’t long before they were sitting down to a Cambodian curry with prawns and calamari, accompanied by jasmine rice. The meal was up to Grant’s usual standard.
‘You really are wasted in the world of banking and high finance,’ Grace said, carrying their empty plates to the sink.
‘That’s why I’m leaving it.’
Grant topped up their wineglasses and took them to the coffee table. He sat down on the sofa, patting the spot next to him. Grace sat down.
‘You don’t sound unhappy about it, either,’ she said.
‘Funnily enough, I’m not.’ He removed his already loosened tie. ‘I’m just sorry about the reason why.’
Grace tucked her legs up under her, angling herself so she could study him.
‘Somehow, you’re different,’ she said. She’d been thinking it all evening. ‘Calmer, more centred or something.’
He stretched, let his arms drop, before picking up his wineglass and taking a hefty gulp. ‘I suppose I feel a bit like that. Life suddenly got serious. I know what I need to do, and I’m doing it. I hope it all works out. Money might be tight but we’ll manage.’
‘You’re a good man, Grant. I’ve always known that. I’m sure Jordan realises he couldn’t want for a better dad to take care of him.’
Impulsively, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. He smiled.
‘Now,’ he said purposefully, turning so he was facing her, ‘Tell me about Grace, and what’s put those shadows under her gorgeous eyes.’
Damn that concealer stick, she thought.
‘Do you want coffee? I’ve got chocolate,’ she said, but he grabbed her wrist before she could stand up.
‘You got away with it yesterday, but not tonight. What’s up, Grace? I know you well enough to know that something is.’
48
Grace sat back, disconcerted by the sudden rush of tears Grant’s words had brought about. He reached for the Kleenex on the coffee table and passed them to her.
‘Thanks,’ she mumbled, blotting her eyes. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me.’
‘Liar,’ he said, relentlessly.
She grabbed a handful of tissues and threw the box back onto the coffee table.
‘I’m homesick,’ she said on a choked sob, and then blew her nose noisily. ‘And I don’t seem to be able to get over it.’
‘Then go home,’ he said.
‘As if it’s that simple.’
‘It is. Who’s forcing you to stay here?’
‘No one’s forcing me, but I know what an opportunity I’ve been given.’
‘And?’
‘I’m not sure if I’m ready to quit my job, walk away from my career. And that’s what I’d have to do if I went home.’
‘Why would you have to quit?’
‘Not too many international bank branches in Miners Ridge.’
‘Oh, that home.’
Grace lifted her hands in a gesture of helplessness. ‘Mum’s moved to Miners Ridge, Aaron’s giving me the silent treatment, Faith’s having another baby, Tim’s in Turkey, Dad won’t answer the phone and I know there’s something going on, but no one will tell me what it is!’
Grant quirked an eyebrow. ‘You feel like you’re missing out,’ he said.
‘No! Well, maybe … When I left there was nothing to miss out on. Now I turn my back for a minute—’
‘What, you left and everyone got on with their own lives without you?’
Grace blew her nose again, overwhelmed by a sudden sadness. ‘I suppose so,’ she said in a small voice. ‘I thought—’ She sniffed.
‘You thought they wouldn’t be able to manage without you.’
‘Something like that, not that I’d consciously thought about it. But I did think Mum would stay put in the unit I set her up in, and that Tim and Faith would just keep on being Tim and Faith.’
‘And none of them have stuck with the plan you had for them?’
Grace scowled at Grant. ‘You make me sound controlling, and not very nice. Don’t forget it was me who kept the family in touch all those years. If I hadn’t kept going to the farm, putting up with their bullshit—’
‘Sarah wouldn’t have had the courage to go back to Miners Ridge and try to mend the bridges that you’d kept in place; Tim wouldn’t have had the wherewithal to do what he’s always wanted to do; and your sister wouldn’t have had her mother’s help and support in what seems to have been—from what you told me in one of our phone conversations—an unplanned pregnancy.’
When Grace Went Away Page 30