In Search of Hope

by Anna Jacobs

  ‘I do,’ Libby said, ‘though not fluently.’

  ‘I speak it very badly,’ Joss said, smiling at the older woman. ‘Bienvenue, madame.’ He gestured to a chair, watching as she nodded and sank down on it with a sigh, her whole body sagging. Her dark eyes would have been beautiful if there hadn’t been shadows beneath them. He’d guess she was of Middle Eastern origin, from a former French colony perhaps.

  ‘We’ve been up since midnight, so Jane is very tired,’ Nina said. ‘If she can lie down somewhere till it’s time for you to leave, that’d be good.’

  ‘Du café ou une tasse de thé, peut-être, madame?’ Libby asked.

  ‘Du café, s’il vous plaît.’

  Libby brought out the instant coffee and made a mug, to which the woman added three spoonfuls of sugar. She took a sip, cradling the mug in her hands, as if needing the warmth more than the dark, fragrant fluid.

  ‘I’ll just go and put fresh sheets on my bed.’

  ‘No need,’ Nina said. ‘Jane is so tired, she could just about sleep standing up. We don’t want extra washing on your line.’

  ‘Well, a clean pillowcase at least. And perhaps a bath.’ Libby went upstairs.

  No one attempted to make conversation while she was gone.

  When Jane had finished her coffee and a piece of cake, Libby took her upstairs, half-opened the door of Ned’s room to show the sleeping child, putting one finger to her lips in a shushing gesture.

  The sight of the little boy sprawled sideways in the bed, still clutching his teddy bear, won a half-smile from their visitor.

  The sight of the bath and a big, fluffy towel pleased her too, so Libby showed her into the bedroom and left her to her ablutions.

  Paul, who like his companion had used another name, leaned forward to say quietly to Joss, ‘Jane won’t want to chat, won’t want to do anything except get as far away from her pursuers as possible. I hope she can sleep a little. She’s like a car running on empty at the moment. However, if she collapses, do not take her to a doctor, just get her to the antiques centre any way you can. I mean that.’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘Oh, and these are her things.’ Paul handed over the smaller rucksack. ‘We didn’t want it to look like anything except a casual day out, so it’s not much.’

  Nina drained her mug and stood up. ‘Thanks for the coffee. Is there any way we can get back to the church without using the lane? We’re off for a hike across the moors, in case anyone saw us drive up here. We’ll call in at the village shop on the way back.’

  She grinned suddenly. ‘I won’t mind a brisk walk in the sun, actually. It’s been a bit hectic the past couple of days.’

  ‘I can take you back to the church via a path that twists along the side of the hill.’

  ‘Is it visible from the village?’

  Joss frowned, trying to figure that out. ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Good.’

  Libby came down and looked at them questioningly.

  ‘I’m taking them to the church the back way,’ Joss told her. ‘I’ll be back in a few minutes. Keep all the doors locked and don’t open to anyone you don’t know.’

  ‘I’m well aware of the need for care,’ she said sharply. Did he think she was stupid? But when he’d gone, she shivered and hoped he wouldn’t be long. Ever since Steven’s phone call to Mr Greaves, she’d felt that danger was hovering.

  Where was her ex now, she wondered. It was only a matter of time before he struck.

  Ned accepted that they had a visitor who was a friend of Joss’s. He was more interested in his breakfast, after which he demanded to play ball outside, something he loved doing. He accepted that he couldn’t without the tantrum a child his age would usually throw when thwarted.

  When Joss returned, she asked him to take the little boy out to the back, and he spent some time tossing a large soft ball to him. Ned tried valiantly to catch it, but mostly missed, for lack of practice. He chased after it laughing and threw it back, more or less, sometimes having to throw it twice to get it the five or so yards to Joss.

  Libby stood at the kitchen window watching, enjoying her son’s pleasure and rosy cheeks.

  Emily picked up the call on her mobile, looking at the caller ID. Her sister. She sighed. She wasn’t feeling very charitable towards Liz at the moment, still hadn’t forgiven her for bringing George to the opening.

  Still, she couldn’t go on refusing to speak to her sister. ‘Hello.’

  ‘Emily. I’ve caught you at last. You’re so busy.’

  ‘Yes, well, we have a new business to run.’

  ‘Um … you’re selling your house, I gather.’

  Emily tensed. ‘Yes.’

  ‘And … George is interested in buying it. He really liked living there.’

  ‘Mmm.’

  ‘Only the estate agent says he has to pay extra if he wants to buy it.’

  ‘Yes. To pay for the rent he should have given me when he moved in while I was in hospital.’

  ‘He was just looking after it for you.’

  ‘And now I’m just looking after my finances.’

  ‘Oh, Emily, can’t we let bygones be bygones?’

  ‘Certainly. As long as George stays away from me.’

  ‘You won’t … let him pay the asking price?’

  ‘Nope. He has to pay extra if he wants it.’ She heard her sister begin to sob. ‘I have to go now. Got a lot to do. Bye.’

  She smiled as she switched the phone off. She was sure George had been in the room, prompting his mother.

  If he wanted to buy the house, he could accept her terms.

  What a nephew to have! He was a horrible, grasping creature. She sighed. What would her daughter be like? Would they ever meet?

  No, she mustn’t let herself grow pessimistic. She must trust that they would meet.

  And even if her daughter wasn’t what she hoped, surely no one could be as bad as her nephew!

  At 11.30 Libby went to wake their guest but found Jane lying staring into space. She explained in her best schoolgirl French that they had to eat now then leave for the antiques centre.

  ‘Bien.’ Jane got up and straightened her clothes.

  Once again she ate very little but when Joss suggested gently that she needed to eat more, she forced down another half sandwich, then pushed her plate away with an apologetic look.

  As they drove through the village, Jane slid down without being told, so that she wasn’t visible, and she didn’t sit up again until Joss assured her it was all right.

  ‘I thought I was nervous,’ Libby murmured, ‘but she’s utterly terrified. I wonder what’s happened to her.’

  ‘I doubt we shall ever know.’

  At the antiques centre, they got out of the car and Joss hoisted Ned up on his shoulders. Libby offered her arm to Jane, who took it with a nod of thanks. They’d already agreed to call Jane maman.

  There were about a dozen cars parked outside the centre, and another one drove up as they walked towards the front door.

  Jane stiffened, but when a family got out of it, with two children of about ten, she relaxed a little … not completely, though. Her eyes kept turning here and there, searching, checking.

  Inside the centre, they pretended to look at the displays until Emily came across to greet them. ‘I’ve found one of those ornaments you’ve been looking for, maman. Viens le voir.’

  Jane nodded, still clinging to Libby’s arm.

  Libby turned to Joss. ‘Can you look after Ned for a few minutes? I’ll meet you in the Old Barn as soon as I can, eh?’

  ‘The stuff in there is at least less valuable if he breaks anything.’ He smiled, pleased that she had enough sense to make their reunion in another part of the centre, where hopefully people wouldn’t remember the other member of the party. He watched how Jane clung to Libby, how she patted the older woman’s hand occasionally.

  Emily led the way to the rear of the Old Barn, stopping a couple of times to point out exhibits whi
ch they dutifully studied.

  ‘Beautiful,’ Libby said. ‘But not quite …’ She shrugged.

  When Emily led them through another door, she dropped all pretence of selling them antiques. ‘Any trouble on the way here, Libby?’

  ‘None at all. Do you speak French?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ She launched into a greeting, offering Jane the assurance that all would be well from now on. Libby was pleased that she’d remembered enough words to follow most of this. Emily was clearly fluent in the language.

  ‘We have a room prepared, Jane. Come and look at it.’

  Libby stepped back. ‘I should go and find Joss.’

  But Jane still clung to her arm, still looked terrified.

  ‘You’d better come with us till she’s settled,’ Emily said.

  As they walked along the corridor, a light appeared at the other end, and Emily stopped dead. A figure walked across from one doorway to another. Only when they got to the ‘doorway’ there wasn’t one on the left, only on the right.

  Jane stopped dead and, like Libby, she looked at Emily in shock.

  ‘You both saw the apparition, didn’t you?’ her hostess asked.

  Libby nodded.

  ‘C’est un revenant?’ Jane asked.

  ‘Oui. There used to be a door there. We have one or two ghosts, but they’re friendly ones, so you needn’t be afraid.’ She repeated that in French.

  Libby tried to hide her surprise at the casual way Emily referred to the figure. But she’d seen something that couldn’t be explained in any other way, knew she hadn’t been imagining things, so she didn’t protest.

  ‘Actually, it’s a good sign that you’ve seen the lady,’ Emily told her.

  ‘It is?’

  ‘Yes. It means you’ve been accepted.’ A young man came out of a nearby door. ‘Oh, Toby, we have a visitor who’ll be staying for a while.’

  He came forward, smiling as usual.

  Jane’s face crumpled and she reached out to touch his cheek. ‘Mon fils était comme lui. Il est mort, mon pauvre Louis.’

  Emily turned to Toby. ‘She had a son like you.’

  ‘He’s walking behind her.’

  There was dead silence, then Emily translated.

  Jane smiled sadly. ‘Oui. Je le sais.’

  Emily turned back to the young man with the child’s innocent face. ‘Toby, our visitor needs to stay in the secret room. There are some bad men chasing her. We don’t want them to know she’s here.’

  ‘I’ll take her there. I won’t let the bad men find her.’ He took Jane’s hand and led the way.

  ‘He quite often surprises us by understanding people’s feelings,’ Emily murmured.

  ‘She was very comfortable with him, I could tell. Perhaps I should go back now.’

  ‘Tell her goodbye first or she’ll worry.’

  So Libby moved forward and said her farewells, accepting Jane’s thanks.

  Then Toby set off again.

  This was the strangest place Libby had ever visited. And yet, she felt very much at home here. Safe. Emily was such a lovely person. And so was Toby.

  She found Joss in the Old Barn, with Ned still on his shoulders. He waved at her from across the room.

  What would her life have been like if she’d married a man like him, she wondered as she made her way past the booths filled with beautiful things. Happy, that’s what.

  Carina said she’d been carefully conditioned and she was not to feel ashamed of staying with Steven – but she did, oh, she definitely did!

  Emily picked up the phone on Sunday evening, tired after a busy weekend. ‘Chadderley’s.’

  ‘Des Monahan here. Have you a few moments to chat?’

  ‘Yes.’ She went to sit down, her heart thudding at the sound of the PI’s voice. Had he found her daughter?

  ‘I’ve found where your daughter used to live and seen her husband. A neighbour said she left him recently, taking her son with her.’

  ‘She has a son? I’m a grandmother?’

  ‘Yes. He’s four. The woman knows your daughter and speaks well of her, seems fond of the boy, too. But she didn’t like the husband. And your daughter ran away before the letter from the reunion people arrived. So that means Libby couldn’t have filled in that form saying she wanted no contact with you.’

  ‘But who …? It must be the husband. How cruel of him!’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Thank goodness it wasn’t my daughter who filled in the form!’

  ‘Even so, it would be better not to get your hopes up until we know more. There’s no guarantee that she’ll want to meet you.’

  ‘No, but there’s still a chance, at least, isn’t there?’

  ‘Yes. Of course.’

  ‘Do you know where my daughter has gone?’

  ‘Not exactly, but I know the name of the lawyer handling her affairs. Strangely enough, he’s in Rochdale.’

  Dead silence, then, ‘Good heavens! Does that mean she’s living near me?’

  ‘Again, I have to say not necessarily. It’s just her lawyer who’s in the area. Do you want me to contact him?’

  Another silence heavy with emotion. ‘Yes. I think you’d better. I get upset a bit easily about this. It’s been a roller-coaster ride, trying to find her.’

  ‘I’ll drive up on Monday morning. No, I can’t come then. I’ve got an appointment I can’t break on Monday afternoon. Tuesday morning, then.’

  ‘You’ll tell him how much I want to see her? That I didn’t give her away for adoption, she was stolen from me?’

  ‘Yes. I’ll tell him.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  If Des wasn’t mistaken, she was weeping.

  Chad came into the flat and found Emily crying, so gathered her in his arms and shushed her gently. He’d only ever seen her weep about one thing.

  ‘More news about your daughter?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He pulled a bunch of tissues out of a nearby box and pushed them into her hand. ‘Here.’

  He waited till she’d calmed down to ask, ‘Is it bad news?’

  ‘No. Neither good nor bad.’ She explained. ‘Well, perhaps it does offer a bit of hope.’

  ‘Then let’s be optimistic. Let’s believe that you will find her again.’

  She nodded and another tear rolled down her cheek.

  ‘Oh, my darling, I can’t bear to see you so upset.’

  She blew her nose, sniffed and blew it again. ‘I can’t help it. When I thought my baby had died, I was sad. When I discovered she’d been stolen from me, it hurt all over again and it hasn’t stopped hurting since.’

  ‘You hide it well. Most of the time.’

  ‘Yes. It wasn’t anyone else’s concern and I learned to have one face for work, another for my personal life. With you, they both seem to have merged into one.’

  ‘Good. I love you just as you are.’ He kissed her cheek to prove it, then enfolded her in his arms. ‘Des is good at what he does. If anyone can find her, he can. You have to believe that.’

  ‘Sometimes I can believe I’ll find her. Other times, I feel quite despairing.’

  ‘I feel very hopeful.’

  When she was calmer she went down to sit in the rear courtyard. The rain had stopped for the moment and she didn’t care if the bench was damp, because the air was so fresh and cool.

  While she was sitting there, she remembered the young woman who’d brought Jane to the centre. She’d had a little boy of about the right age. And she’d reminded Emily of her mother as a young woman.

  What if she was …? No, that would be too much of a coincidence.

  Toby came out to join her and sat down next to her. ‘Don’t be sad.’

  Emily tried to smile at him.

  He patted her hand. ‘The lady says you’ll find her again.’

  ‘Find who?’

  ‘Your daughter. She came here before. She has a little boy.’

  Emily sat in amazement as he walked away. Sometimes it was downright
eerie the way Toby seemed to know what you were thinking, not to mention the way he spoke so familiarly about the resident ghost.

  He’d said she’d find her daughter. That she’d been to the antiques centre. It couldn’t be true, could it? That young woman couldn’t be her daughter?

  If she was, it would make that beautiful little boy her grandson. Oh, the joy of that thought.

  She tried to be sensible, but hope crept into her heart and lodged there.

  Perhaps miracles did happen sometimes.

  She wouldn’t say anything, though, even to Chad. She would just … hope.

  Thirteen

  Steven spent Monday doing some research online and fumbling his way through the washing and ironing. He refused to dress like a slob! But the need to undertake such menial tasks and the annoyance that he couldn’t do them to the same high standard as Libby kept his anger simmering.

  On the Tuesday morning, he set out very early to drive up to Lancashire, intending to visit the lawyer in person. He wasn’t going to be fobbed off by a mere secretary if he telephoned. Even if he didn’t find out where Libby was, it would send a further message to her that he wasn’t giving up. However there just might be things he could only winkle out if he was there in person.

  At a last resort, he’d pay the extortionate charges of a website he’d found, which claimed to be able to find 90% of people being sought. He’d rather not do that. He worked hard for his money, needed it there behind him.

  He’d been trying to remember where the old grandmother lived, because the lawyer hadn’t mentioned any addresses in his letter. It seemed quite possible that Libby might have taken refuge in the old hag’s house.

  No, with such a mean little legacy, the house must have been sold. He tried the online phone directories, but there was no Rose King listed there. He searched the electoral rolls online, but people could opt out of being listed and she must have done that. Damn her!

  He even left a message on Libby’s stepfather’s phone, asking if he knew the old woman’s address, but Walter didn’t get back to him. Too busy drinking himself into an early grave.

  No, it would be best to go up to Lancashire in person.

  Steven set off soon after four o’clock on Tuesday morning, half-listening to the usual rubbish on the radio. He even hummed along with one or two favourite songs because he was feeling better for having some purpose to his day and there was no one there to hear him and criticise his singing. He stopped at a motorway services for some breakfast, enjoying a cup of surprisingly good coffee.