by Susan Lewis
She continued to search, feeling a frantic need to contact Polly, but she could find no email address, or phone number, or anything else that could connect her. Polly and her family had turned to ghosts in a cyber world. It was as though they no longer existed, were maybe even a figment of her tortured imagination. It felt like the emotional equivalent of a sudden crash – one minute they were there, the next they’d gone. There was no way to get hold of them, nothing to tell Charlotte what decision Polly had made, or what she and her family were doing now, three years on from that last desperate posting.
Her only hope, she decided, was to email one of the other parents who’d responded to the blog and ask if they knew anything, or if they had a way of passing a message on.
Dear Emily Burrows,
I know I’m very late to Polly Greenborough’s blog, but I’m extremely eager to know how Polly and her family are now if you’re able to tell me. I am in a similar situation with my own adoptive daughter and I hardly know where to turn. It’s probably too much to ask of Polly to give me some advice, but I would find it very helpful to know what she decided to do about Roxanne and how things have turned out.
The following morning Charlotte did as she’d planned. She told Rowan she was going to the doctor with Elodie and instead went to the pharmacy. By the time she got home Elodie seemed brighter, and when Charlotte undressed her to apply the new balm she was sure the inflammation had gone down.
So perhaps it had nothing to do with Chloe.
‘Mummy, good girl,’ Elodie gurgled, waving her hands and feet in the air like a small baby.
Charlotte’s heart flooded with love. This was the first time she’d heard Elodie say anything more than Mummy, Daddy and Wo wo, her name for Rowan. ‘Yes, my darling, you’re a very good girl,’ she told her.
Elodie gave an excited squeal and held out her arms to be picked up.
Since she was seeming so much better Charlotte reluctantly handed her over to Rowan, feeling sure she’d be OK at nursery for a couple of hours, which would give her some time to talk to Chloe.
‘She came down for breakfast,’ Rowan said on her way out, ‘but she went back upstairs when she’d finished and I haven’t seen her since.’
Bracing herself, Charlotte got partway up the stairs when the phone rang. Expecting it to be Rick reminding her that he’d have to leave the cellar door at two, she returned to the kitchen and clicked on.
‘Mrs Goodman. It’s Pania Brown, from CYFS.’
Thinking of how much she could do without this call right now, Charlotte sank into a chair and said, ‘Hi Pania. How are you?’ Her head was throbbing so badly it seemed possible Pania could hear it.
‘I’m very well thank you. I’m ringing because I’d like to have a talk with you about Chloe. Well, of course about Chloe. I’ve been having a few thoughts I’d like to share with you if you have the time.’
Not sure how keen she was to hear them, Charlotte said, ‘Would you like to come here? Or is it something we can discuss on the phone?’
‘Well, perhaps I can start things off on the phone and we can get together after you’ve had some time to think.’
About what?
Taking a breath, Pania said, ‘I’m afraid this might not be easy to hear, but I’ve talked it over with one of our psychologists and we both wondered if you’ve been having the same thoughts yourself.’
‘What are they?’ Charlotte prompted, hearing her voice as though it were a long way away.
As she listened to Pania’s answer she felt the room starting to spin. It was as though Polly was coming to life through Pania, speaking the words she’d written, sharing the fate, the devastation and terrifying recommendations …
‘Are you still there, Mrs Goodman?’ Pania asked. ‘I realise this …’
Catching Chloe trying to sneak out of the door, Charlotte said, ‘I’m sorry, I’ll have to call you back,’ and clicking off the line she tried to steady herself as she barked to Chloe, ‘Where are you going?’
‘Nowhere,’ Chloe scowled.
‘What’s in the bag?’
Chloe hiked her flowery holdall higher on her shoulder. ‘Nothing.’
‘It doesn’t look like nothing, so come here please.’
‘I can’t. I’m in a hurry.’
‘To go where?’ This was happening in another place, a dream, a virtual nightmare …
Shouting, Chloe said, ‘If you must know, I’m leaving home and I won’t be coming back.’
As the words assailed her, Charlotte’s insides turned to liquid. She felt sick. Chloe’s aggression seemed to fill the room; it was suffocating, deafening, overwhelming …
‘See, you don’t care,’ Chloe cried, ‘so I’m going. Going, going, going.’
‘I don’t know what more I can do to show I care,’ Charlotte called after her, feeling dazzled, dizzied by the sun as she followed her on to the terrace. ‘Let’s sit here on the grass and have a chat,’ she suggested, realising she barely had the strength to carry on standing.
‘I don’t want to chat. I want to leave.’
Pulling up a chair Charlotte sat down at the table. ‘OK. So what’s your plan?’ she asked, feeling as though her voice belonged to somebody else.
Chloe’s eyes narrowed. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, when you get to the end of the drive, where are you intending to go?’
Clearly not liking the question, Chloe said, ‘I don’t know. Anywhere.’
‘Do you have money?’
‘I’ve got some.’
‘I don’t expect it’s enough to get a bus …’
‘I’m catching a plane, to England.’
Charlotte said, ‘And what are you aiming to do when you get there, presuming you do?’
‘If you must know I’m going to find my real mummy and daddy.’
The throb in her head was explosive. ‘Chloe, you know very well you won’t find them, so please stop doing this.’
‘It’s only you who says I won’t,’ Chloe raged, ‘but you’re lying, I know you are, because I’ve found one of my real daddy’s friends.’
Charlotte turned to ice. Had she heard that right? She couldn’t have. ‘Stop!’ she shouted as Chloe turned away. ‘Stop right there.’
Chloe turned round, hands on hips.
‘What do you mean you’ve found one of his friends?’ Charlotte demanded.
‘It was a joke,’ Chloe cried. ‘Don’t you know a joke when you hear one?’
Charlotte tried to take a breath, but it wasn’t easy. Her vision was blurring in the sunshine, and strange colours, lights were flashing in her eyes. She could hear Pania’s voice like a distant echo, feel Polly’s despair …
‘Chloe if you’ve done something …’ she mumbled. Her hands were starting to shake so badly that her whole body was reacting.
‘I haven’t done anything,’ Chloe shouted. ‘You always think I have and that’s why …’ Her eyes began to dilate, and her face turned white as Charlotte slumped forward. ‘Mummy? What are you doing?’ she gasped, running to her. ‘Don’t do that! Get up … Mummy! Get up.’
Anthony was in the winery with Will. Both men’s expressions were grim as they read the email Kim Thorp had rung to let them know was on its way. It was the news Anthony had been dreading; the rumours Kim had heard were true, the Australian company who’d bought their outstanding stock of Pinot Gris had gone bust.
‘Did we ever receive a deposit?’ Will asked.
‘I’ve been chasing it,’ Anthony replied, turning at the sound of a car pulling up outside. It was Zoe, back from Auckland.
‘Hi guys,’ she said cheerily. ‘I hope you’ve missed me.’
Will glanced at Anthony.
Directing her to his laptop, Anthony said, ‘Read the email on the screen and tell me what you know about this.’
Frowning, and clearly surprised by his tone, she went to the desk and tilted forward to read.
Anthony’s eyes went to Will. It appeared his focus
had switched to the wine press, where the early fruit was on its first path to fermentation.
‘Oh my god,’ Zoe murmured, pressing a hand to her mouth. She turned to Anthony, wide-eyed with shock. ‘I don’t know what to say,’ she told him. ‘Are you sure this is true?’
‘If you look at the sender’s address you’ll know it is.’
Apparently she already had, for she didn’t look again. ‘I’m truly sorry,’ she cried, making to touch his arm and withdrawing again. ‘If I’d known they were in trouble … I swear I didn’t. I’d never have put you together if I had.’
‘Where’s the wine now?’ Will asked Anthony.
‘That’s what we need to find out,’ Anthony replied, checking his phone as it rang. Seeing it was Charlotte he was tempted to let it go to messages, but thinking of the children he clicked on.
‘Daddy! Daddy!’ Chloe screamed down the phone. ‘It’s Mummy. She’s on the ground and she won’t get up.’
Stunned, Anthony tried to make himself think. ‘What do you mean, she’s on the ground?’
‘She fell there. She was shaking, but she’s stopped now, but she won’t open her eyes.’
Grabbing his keys, he said, ‘Where are you?’
‘At home. Daddy, you have to come. I’m scared.’
‘Don’t worry, I’m on my way,’ and running to the car he shouted to Will, ‘Find that damned wine and let’s hope to god it hasn’t already left the country.’
Chapter Ten
Anthony was slumped in an armchair next to his and Charlotte’s bed with his eyes closed. The blinds were partly down, preventing too much sunlight from flooding in as he fought off the exhaustion of waiting and worrying and tearing himself apart with guilt and dread. Charlotte was going to be fine, the doctor had assured him of that when he’d discharged her from hospital; she just needed to take things easy for a while.
‘Stress can manifest itself in all sorts of ways,’ the doctor had continued kindly, ‘and I’m pretty sure from what I’ve heard and seen that that’s what we’re dealing with here.’
Given what Anthony knew of the pressure Charlotte had been under, he was prepared to believe him. However, what he wasn’t prepared to do was forgive himself for having pushed her this far.
It wasn’t working out for them here.
As hard as that was to admit, and as goddamned clueless as he felt about the future, he had to face the fact that they’d given it their best shot, and it simply hadn’t been good enough. They were out of money – worse, they were actually in debt – and even if they managed to get back the wine that was on its way to Australia, it would only return them to the position they’d been in before. They were unable to afford any more storage, or to employ the staff they needed to help run Charlotte’s side of the business, or to pay the pickers for this year’s vintage. Whichever way he looked at it, they simply couldn’t continue.
How the hell was he supposed to break that to her? When was it ever going to be a right time? Certainly not now, when she was only waking long enough to ask for Elodie, or to use the bathroom. Just Elodie, never Cooper or Chloe. It was as though she’d forgotten they existed.
‘I’m fine, I’m fine,’ she’d insisted when she’d woken earlier and tried to climb out of bed. ‘I need to see Elodie …’
‘I’ll bring her to you,’ he’d soothed, easing her back to the pillows. ‘You need to rest. The doctor said at least a week.’
‘No, not that long. Where’s Elodie? Is she all right?’
‘She’s fine. So are Cooper and Chloe. Your mother’s taking care of them.’
‘My mother? Are the children in Kerikeri?’
‘No, your mother and Bob arrived yesterday.’ It had alarmed him to know that she’d seen and spoken to them, but apparently didn’t remember they were there.
She was sleeping again now, with Elodie dozing beside her. Anthony didn’t want to leave her side in spite of his mother-in-law’s insistence that he also needed some rest.
‘Will is perfectly capable of taking care of things at the winery,’ Bob had pointed out earlier, ‘and don’t forget I have a vineyard myself. I’ll grant you not as big a deal as this one, but I understand the business so I can give Will as much backup as he needs.’
‘With a broken foot?’
‘That’s well on the mend. You just concentrate on your wife and family and leave the business to me.’
Bob must surely know by now what a mess things were in, but he hadn’t mentioned it and Anthony wasn’t ready to bring it up either. He needed to think things through, decide what their next steps should be, if they should even stay in New Zealand. At least in England he could return to practising law, but Charlotte wouldn’t want to go back. The schools were better here, her mother was a short flight away and the quality of life all round was far superior to that in the overcrowded and overstressed UK.
Nothing could happen, one way or another, until he’d sold the vineyard, and god only knew how much of a hit he was going to take there.
Not once had it crossed his mind that it wouldn’t work out for them here; even now he was having a hard time making himself accept it – until he looked at Charlotte and thought about how much she must have been suffering without him knowing, or even wanting to know.
What a selfish, egotistical bastard he was.
‘Hey you,’ Charlotte whispered croakily.
Immediately coming to, Anthony reached for her hand. If he’d ever been in any doubt during these stressful times about how much he loved her, these past few days had put him completely straight. She and the children meant everything in the world to him, and always would. ‘Hey,’ he whispered back.
Her eyes seemed clearer than earlier, her skin slightly less pale.
‘How are you feeling?’ he ventured.
She frowned as she thought, and glanced around the bedroom. ‘A bit strange, but OK I think.’ She turned to Elodie and touched a kiss to her cheek. ‘How long’s she been asleep?’
‘A few minutes. Your mother fed and changed her just now and brought her back again.’ Having Elodie with her had seemed to calm her, so Elodie had been here for most of the time these past two days.
‘Mum fed and changed … Oh yes, you told me she was here. She didn’t need to come. She has Bob and Shelley to take care of.’
‘Bob came too. He’s still limping but doing OK, and apparently Shelley’s had her last treatment.’
Charlotte was still gazing at Elodie. ‘That’s good,’ she said. ‘How is she?’
‘Doing fine, I think, but Anna will be able to tell you more.’
Charlotte turned to look at him and as their eyes met he brought her hand to his lips. ‘I’m sorry,’ he murmured. ‘I should never have let this happen …’
‘Ssh, it’s not your fault. Anyway, what did happen?’
‘You had some kind of a blackout they’re saying was caused by stress.’ He wouldn’t bother telling her that they’d suspected a seizure at first as they’d ruled it out now, thank goodness. ‘You’ve had too much to cope with,’ he told her, ‘the business, this house, the children, Chloe in particular … We can’t allow things to go on like this.’
Using her fingers to wipe the tears from his cheeks, she said, ‘I’ve never seen you cry before.’
He smiled. ‘I guess I’ve never been so worried about you before – or realised how much I love you.’
Her eyes softened as she stroked his face. ‘I was afraid you might have stopped.’
Kissing her hand again, he said, ‘That’s never going to happen.’
She smiled and looked past him as someone knocked on the door.
‘I thought I heard voices,’ Anna said, putting her head round. She was blonde and slim and looked very like the older version of Charlotte that she was. ‘Can I come in?’
Anthony rose to his feet, feeling the stiffness in his legs from having sat for so long.
‘How’s the patient?’ Anna asked, coming to sit on the edge of the bed.
>
‘I’m fine,’ Charlotte assured her. ‘You didn’t need to come all this way, honestly.’
‘Well there’s a nice greeting,’ Anna commented wryly. ‘And was I really going to pass up a chance to spend some time with my only daughter and three wonderful grandchildren?’
‘I didn’t come into it?’ Anthony enquired.
Laughing, Charlotte said, ‘Where are Chloe and Cooper?’
Anna glanced at Anthony. ‘Bob’s just taken Cooper to the village, and Chloe’s in her room.’
‘Is she all right?’
Anthony said, ‘You gave her a bit of a scare. She’s been pretty quiet since.’
Charlotte struggled to sit up. ‘I should talk to her.’
Again Anna looked at Anthony. ‘I’ll go and get her,’ she said, ‘but tell me first that you’re ready for something to eat.’
‘Are you kidding? Whatever you’re offering, please double the helping.’
After her mother had gone, Charlotte said to Anthony, ‘Would you mind if I have a few minutes alone with Chloe?’
‘Of course not. Shall I take Elodie?’
‘Yes, you probably should.’
As he lifted the baby on to his shoulder, he said, ‘You don’t have to give me an answer now, but your mother and Bob have agreed to stay with the children if you’ll let me take you to Lake Taupo for a couple of days. I think we need some time for the two of us.’
Charlotte’s eyes were suffused with feeling. Lake Taupo was where they’d spent their honeymoon.
‘Of course we won’t go until you feel up to it,’ he continued, ‘but I thought it might be a good place to carry on getting some rest.’
With a mischievous twinkle she said, ‘Rest?’
‘It was a euphemism,’ he assured her.
As the door closed behind him Charlotte’s smile faded. A predatory dark cloud was closing in on her. She’d been awake for longer than she’d let on, watching him doze, loving him and feeling for his concern, but shutting her eyes each time he started to wake. Though she’d wanted him to lie with her and hold her, she’d remained still and silent as she thought about Chloe and the suggestion Pania had made, and how deeply it had resonated with Polly’s experience.