The Ties That Bind

by Anthea Fraser

  ‘Anyone else?’ Rachel prompted when she didn’t go on.

  ‘Connor. I know him a bit better than the others because we sometimes sit together.’

  ‘Do you now? Might he be a successor to the amorous doctor?’

  ‘Oh Rachel, for heaven’s sake!’ Jess protested laughingly.

  Their antipasti arrived and claimed their attention for the next few minutes. Then Rachel said, ‘What about the women?’

  ‘Well, Maggie, of course. She runs a fairly prestigious garden design business-cum-garden centre. She’s just won some prize or other; her photo was in the local paper and she was interviewed on TV.’

  ‘Good for her. Who else?’

  ‘Di and Sarah are the most regular. I don’t know either of them well, but I like them both.’

  ‘Are any of them couples, would you say, apart from Maggie and Laurence?’

  Jess shrugged. ‘Possibly Dominic and Di, but it’s all pretty fluid.’

  They lapsed into silence, both pursuing their own thoughts. At one point Rachel said, ‘What do you think they did with the body?’

  Jess didn’t reply.

  The meal continued with only sporadic conversation, Jess’s admission having cast a pall over the holiday that neither seemed able to shake off. Their first and then second course plates were removed, and it was as they were having coffee that a heavily accented voice above them said, ‘You two ladies look very serious, and that is not allowed!’

  They looked up into the smiling faces of a couple of Swedish men they’d spoken to briefly by the pool.

  ‘Too much sunshine making us dozy!’ Rachel said.

  ‘Not something we Swedes complain about!’ laughed the one called Anders. ‘We have to soak up all we can to make up for the long dark winters! We’re about to take a stroll into town and visit a bar we discovered yesterday. If you’re not too sleepy, would you care to join us?’

  Miraculously the cloud hanging over the women lifted. ‘We’d love to!’ Jess said.

  Lars and Anders proved interesting and attentive companions for the rest of the holiday. As a foursome they visited all the tourist attractions, including climbing the famous Leaning Tower for a tilted view of the city. Another highlight was a day trip to Florence to marvel at its many wonders. The constant activity, together with congenial company, had the welcome effect of banishing thoughts of Bristol to the back of Jess’s mind. However, as the holiday neared its end, fear reasserted itself and she began to dread her return to the flat.

  As they prepared for bed the final evening, she suddenly burst out, ‘I wish I could go back to London with you!’

  Rachel paused in the act of brushing her hair. ‘Oh, hon, I know.’

  ‘It would help if I knew whether or not he’s been found. If he has, and has been identified and everything, someone might even have been arrested by now.’

  ‘Well, that would be great, wouldn’t it?’

  ‘It would certainly absolve me of responsibility for not reporting it.’

  Rachel turned to look at her. ‘So you agree now that you should have done?’

  ‘Oh Rach, I always knew that, but I was too frightened. If I’d had more time to think about it I probably would have, but I was on the point of driving home for Cassie’s birthday and then coming away, and it all just … panicked me.’

  ‘It still wouldn’t be too late.’

  Jess shook her head. ‘But don’t you see? If more facts suddenly came to light just after my return to Bristol, it would point the finger at me even more.’

  ‘As I said before, not necessarily, but I understand your concern. Is there anyone you could confide in? I really don’t know what advice to give you.’

  Jess made a face. ‘Anyone I tell would say the same as you – I must report it.’

  And Rachel, knowing this to be true, could only nod in reply.

  FOUR

  Jess’s holiday wasn’t the only one that ended that weekend, and Jenny and Ron Barlow had a painful conversation on the long drive home.

  ‘You have to remember, love,’ he began, ‘they’re not kids any more. A day on the beach with people they hardly know—’

  ‘Hardly know?’ Jenny echoed, and Ron winced at the pain in her voice.

  ‘Well, you could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times we’ve seen them since they moved down here. Added to which, we’re earlier this year because of Cassie’s birthday, which means the school term hasn’t ended. That leaves only the weekends, which they obviously want to spend either studying for exams or with their friends, rather than traipsing down to see us – especially since they saw us at the party.’

  ‘But we hardly spoke to them there!’ Jenny wailed.

  ‘And with Jess being in Italy,’ Ron continued doggedly, ‘it wouldn’t have been the same. She was always the chatty one, wasn’t she?’

  ‘I feel I’m losing them all over again,’ Jenny said, rummaging in her handbag for a tissue.

  ‘Perhaps it would be as well to cool it for a bit – go somewhere else next summer, abroad, maybe.’ He flicked her a sideways glance. ‘We could even ask Gemma or Freddie if they’d like to join us.’

  Jenny snorted. ‘No guesses what their answer would be!’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. They might appreciate that we’re taking a break from the annual pilgrimage. In any case, Cassie could well be at university and off travelling during the long vacation. We’re coming to the end of an era, love, and we have to face it.’

  Jenny’s control finally gave way. ‘Why can’t things stay as they are?’ she sobbed.

  To that, Ron accepted, there was no reply.

  They parted in Bristol, Rachel making for her train to London and Jess for hers to St Catherine’s, where she’d left her car.

  ‘Let me know how you get on,’ Rachel said, as they hugged goodbye. ‘And as soon as you think it’s safe, look for somewhere else to live.’

  ‘Oh, I shall!’ Jess replied fervently. ‘I don’t trust any of them at the moment.’

  She was glad to be going home, albeit briefly, before returning to the flat. It would give her a chance to draw breath, and arriving late tomorrow would reduce time spent with Maggie and whoever else happened to be there. It would be a strain having to be constantly on her guard, ensuring that she behaved naturally and gave no grounds for suspicion that she might know more than was good for her.

  Fleur was in the garden deadheading when the station taxi turned into the drive, and in the seconds before her mother saw her, Jess had a fleeting sense that she looked downcast. Then she smiled and came to greet her, and by the time Jess had paid the driver and retrieved her case she’d forgotten the impression.

  ‘You’re as brown as a walnut!’ Fleur exclaimed. ‘I hope you put on plenty of sunscreen!’

  ‘Oh, Mum, really!’

  ‘Ignore me! Did you have a wonderful time?’

  ‘It was great, yes. Super hotel, super food, super weather, and a chance to catch up with Rachel.’

  ‘Any dashing young men on hand?’ Fleur enquired mischievously as they went into the house.

  ‘A couple of Swedes, since you ask. Perfect holiday companions and no strings to complicate things. How’s everything here? No alarums and excursions?’

  Her mother’s eyes flickered away, and again that spurt of unease. But she answered lightly, ‘No, all well. Exams are finished, so the girls are just cruising along until the end of term. Incidentally, Gran’s invited herself to lunch tomorrow. She wants to see you before you go back to Bristol, and says she didn’t get a chance to speak to you at the party.’

  Owen appeared from the direction of the kitchen. ‘Ah, the wanderer returns!’ He gave her a quick hug and kissed her cheek. ‘We gather from your texts you had a good time.’

  ‘I did, yes. I’ll tell you all about it, but if you don’t mind I’ll take my things up now and have a quick shower. We didn’t have time for one this morning and I’m all sticky after travelling. Can I dump everything i
n the washing machine, Mum? No point taking them back to Bristol – they’re hardly work clothes.’

  Music was coming from Cassie’s room as Jess reached the top of the stairs. She tapped on her door and put her head round it. ‘Hi!’ she said.

  Her sister looked up from her tablet. ‘Oh, hi yourself! Have a good time?’

  ‘Great, thanks. I’m just going for a shower to get rid of travel grime.’

  Cassie nodded. ‘OK. There’s something I want to talk to you about, but it’ll keep.’

  ‘Sounds pretty serious!’

  ‘It’ll keep,’ Cassie repeated, and turned back to her tablet.

  With a resigned shake of her head, Jess went for her shower.

  Fleur had still done nothing about the lump in her breast, and Jess’s return from holiday brought home to her that it was now two weeks since she’d discovered it. She was well aware that had it been Owen or one of the girls she’d have insisted they go to the doctor immediately, for reasons that applied equally to her: if, as was most likely, it was nothing serious, they could spare themselves needless worry by having the fact confirmed; if, on the other hand, it was, the sooner it was treated the better.

  So why, when it came to herself, was she such a coward? She had even kept putting off phoning Sue Davenport, her long-term best friend and the only person with whom she felt she could discuss her plight. Admittedly a phone conversation was far from ideal for such a topic, but since Sue lived in Oxford there was no other option. Fleur had, in fact, reached this decision several times over the last two weeks, but each time she was alone in the house and the ideal opportunity offered, she’d thought up excuses to postpone it.

  Enough! On Monday, when Jess was back in Bristol and Owen and the girls at school, she would pluck up her courage and make the call, and this time she would carry the decision through.

  It had been a pleasantly relaxed evening. As promised, Jess regaled her family with an account of the holiday, including their day trip to the Ponte Vecchio and the Uffizi Gallery, and illustrated it with photos on her phone. Once the meal was over, Verity left them to join a group of friends at a local gig and the rest of them exchanged odd snippets of news and general chat until, after watching News at Ten, Jess excused herself and went upstairs. It had been an early start in Pisa, followed by a long day, and she was exhausted.

  But once in bed she found it impossible to switch off all the fears and anxieties she’d kept at bay for the last two weeks but which now, with her imminent return to Bristol, threatened to swamp her.

  After tossing and turning for half an hour, she decided to read for a while in the hope that it would make her sleepy. She plumped up the pillows behind her and prepared to immerse herself in her book, but she’d read only half a dozen pages when there was a tap on the door and Cassie, clad in pyjamas and dressing gown, came in bearing a tray with two mugs.

  ‘I saw your light was still on,’ she said, ‘so I thought you might like some hot chocolate.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Jess said gratefully, laying down her book. ‘I just couldn’t get to sleep; overtired, I expect.’

  ‘This should help, then.’ Cassie handed her a mug and perched on the side of the bed with her own.

  Jess sipped at it appreciatively. ‘You wanted to talk about something?’

  ‘Yes.’ Cassie stared down at her drink for a moment. Then she looked up and said in a rush, ‘Have you ever thought about trying to trace your birth mother?’

  Jess stared at her. ‘God, Cass, I wasn’t expecting that!’

  ‘Well, have you?’

  ‘I can’t say I have, no. Mum’s the only mother I need.’ She paused, surveying her sister’s troubled face. ‘Have you?’

  Cassie sipped her drink. ‘Not till very recently. It started with one of the girls at school. I hardly know her, so Lord knows how she found out I was adopted; I’ve never tried to hide it, but I haven’t shouted it from the rooftops either. Anyway, a group of us were talking about my eighteenth and she suddenly said, “Now you’ll be old enough to search for your birth mother!”’

  Cassie looked up, meeting Jess’s eyes. ‘It was like she’d slapped my face. I suddenly felt like a … displaced person.’

  ‘Oh, Cass!’ Jess said softly.

  ‘But it did start me thinking. And it struck me that when I have children of my own, I’ll want them to know where they came from.’

  ‘You have a point,’ Jess conceded, ‘but that won’t be for a while, I trust!’

  Cassie gave a half-smile. ‘I’d probably have put it on hold, if something else hadn’t come up.’ She drew a deep breath. ‘I popped in to see Gran the other day, to thank her properly for my birthday present.’ She paused. ‘You know when she moved out of here she left several boxes of stuff in the attic, because there’s not much storage space at the bungalow?’

  Jess nodded, wondering where this could possibly be leading.

  ‘Well, she and Henry had been to the Vermeer exhibition and she wanted to re-read a book about him called Girl with a Pearl Earring. She searched everywhere but couldn’t find it, and wondered if it was in one of the boxes she’d left here. So she … asked me to have a look for it.’

  ‘And did you find it?’ Jess prompted, when she didn’t go on.

  ‘Oh, I found it all right. And when I lifted it out of the box’ – Cassie reached into her dressing gown pocket and removed a folded sheet of paper – ‘this fell out. It must have been used as a bookmark.’ She sat staring down at it.

  ‘Well, are you going to tell me what it is?’ Jess asked impatiently.

  ‘Read it yourself!’ Cassie thrust the paper into her hand. Unfolding it, Jess was surprised to see their mother’s handwriting. Scrawled on one side of the page, it was a letter dated 12 October 2000 and read:

  Dearest Ma, please don’t be angry with us. I know you don’t approve – you made that very plain! – but if it’s on my behalf there’s no need to worry. I really don’t mind one way or the other as long as we have a healthy baby, and it means so much to Owen. Talk it over with Pops – I think he understands, but I need you to be happy too. I love you very much. Fleur.

  Jess looked up to find her sister watching her intently. ‘What do you make of that?’ she demanded, her voice trembling.

  ‘I’ve no idea,’ Jess said helplessly.

  ‘From the date it has to be me they’re talking about, but what doesn’t Gran approve of, for pity’s sake? They’d already adopted you – she should have been used to the idea.’

  Jess shook her head. ‘It doesn’t make sense. You didn’t mention this to either Gran or Mum?’

  ‘Of course not. What do you take me for?’

  ‘Well, you might at least have got an explanation.’

  ‘Suppose Gran still doesn’t “approve”? Does that mean she doesn’t approve of me either?’ Cassie’s voice broke on an angry sob and Jess reached quickly for her hand.

  ‘Oh, Cass, of course not! She loves you to bits, but you know what she’s like. She gets these ideas in her head and hangs on to them like a terrier. I’ve seen Dad bite his lip more than once when she goes off on one of her rants.’

  ‘Nevertheless,’ said Cassie bleakly.

  ‘So what are you going to do?’ Jess enquired after a minute. ‘Ask one of them – which would be the quickest way – or start to look for your birth mother?’

  Cassie lifted her shoulders. ‘I just wish Trudy had kept her big mouth shut and Gran hadn’t asked me to find the book and things could have gone on as normal.’

  ‘Turning back the clock,’ Jess said reflectively. ‘We all wish that from time to time.’

  Cass looked up. ‘Oh? What would you change?’

  ‘I was speaking generally. I shouldn’t worry about it; there’s probably a simple explanation. Anyway, whatever it was is well in the past now, so it can’t have been that important.’ She finished the last of her chocolate. ‘Thanks for this, Cass. Let’s hope we can both sleep now.’

  Cassie took the le
tter from her and slipped it back in her pocket. ‘No harm in hoping,’ she said.

  Since its windows had been closed for two weeks, the Bromley house felt close and stuffy and Jenny had gone round opening them all – though, as Ron had pointed out, she was only letting in more heat. Due to a break for lunch and the slow holiday traffic it had taken them almost four hours to reach home, and the headache brought on by her earlier tears was still lingering, despite a couple of paracetamol. She felt tired, lethargic and miserable, and though she was supposed to be unpacking the cases that had been brought up earlier, she sank down on to the bed, her head in her hands. Thunderstorms were forecast and Ron was hurriedly cutting the grass before they arrived. She could hear the sound of the mower through the open window.

  Was he right, she wondered, that their Somerset holidays had virtually come to an end, breaking any worthwhile connection with the Tempest family? She wasn’t sure she could bear it, but what else could she do? She was well aware that Fleur resented the prolonged contact, spasmodic though it was, and was unlikely to offer any alternative.

  A host of images of the Tempest children through the years flickered through her mind – Jess a freckled five-year-old, Cassie a toddler, hunting in the garden for Easter eggs. That must have been before Verity was born. Then, a few years later, trips to the cinema, strictly monitored by Fleur …

  A rattle of rain against the window broke into her reverie, followed by a crash of thunder. Wearily she brushed a hand across her face and, hearing the back door open as Ron took shelter from the storm, she at last began to unpack their cases.

  By the next morning the rain had reached Somerset and after a disturbed night Jess woke to its pattering against the window. Various other sounds filtered through from the house around her: Minty mewing near at hand and her mother calling him from downstairs; music drifting from both her sisters’ rooms in discordant harmony; and, from nearby St Barnabas, bells summoning the faithful to prayer. Sounds which, in various permutations, she thought drowsily, had punctuated her life.