The Last First Time

by Andrea Bramhall

  Gina smiled. “You found your daughter.”

  His grin widened. “Yes, I did.”

  “Wow, that was fast.”

  He grinned. “I told you I was good at finding information. When I need to know something, I find out the answer.”

  “I’m very happy for you, George.” She bit her lip. “But I still don’t understand where I come into this. Why did you want to talk to me about what you found?”

  He stared at the file, as though now that the moment was upon him he was questioning his own decision. He licked his lips, pulling the bottom one between his teeth, then seemed to reconcile himself to moving forward with his plan. He took a deep breath and opened the file, spreading sheets of paper across the table. “You see, I found out that my little girl was adopted by Ronald and Mary Jacobs.”

  “What?” Alison coughed around her drink.

  “Ronald and Mary Jacobs,” he said quietly, looking directly at her.

  Alison paled. “It’s…it’s a common enough surname, and Ronald and Mary aren’t unusual names either.”

  “Mum?” Gina said quietly.

  “I was thorough in my background checks. Every detail has been checked and double-checked. I had no intention of barging into someone’s life if I wasn’t one hundred per cent certain it was the right person.”

  “You can’t have been. You said you only got the information last night. You said so yourself just a moment ago,” Alison argued.

  “I’m sorry, I should have been clearer. I got the final confirmation at eleven last night. That was the confirmation of the checks I need to make.”

  “But—”

  “Ronald and Mary Jacobs. Lived in Fakenham from 1970 until they passed away—Mary in 1989, Ronald in 1993. Their adopted daughter married Howard Temple in 1983, at the age of eighteen.”

  “Mum?” Gina quickly knelt beside her mother and took hold of her hand.

  Alison couldn’t seem to tear her gaze from George. “You’re my father?”

  George nodded.

  “Bloody hell,” Kate whispered. She picked up her drink and stared into the cup. “I think I need something a bit stronger now.” She got up from the table and headed for the kitchen.

  Gina touched her mother’s cheek and drew her face to look at her. “Mum, is it true?”

  Alison snorted. “I’ve no idea.” She picked up one of the pieces of paper and stared at it blankly. “I was adopted. I knew that much. I told you that.”

  Gina nodded. “I remember.”

  “Is he my biological father?” She looked at George. “How the holy hell should I know?”

  “I know this is a shock,” George said. “But all the paperwork shows that you are the baby Pat gave birth to in 1965. My daughter.”

  Gina picked up the paper he held out. It was a birth certificate. Her mum’s birth certificate. “You’re not named as the father.”

  He shook his head. “Do you remember in her letter? She said she wouldn’t name the father because she knew her dad would kill me for it.”

  Gina nodded. Oh yes, she remembered. Wow. IRA commander great-granddaddy. Army spy granddad. Murdered grandma. I feel like I’m reading off the beginning of Gladiator. My name is Geroginas Maximus Tempilius, granddaughter to a murdered grandmother, descendant of a terrorist, mother to a problem child. And I will have my vengeance. In this life or the next. She knew laughing at the absurdity her shocked mind was creating wasn’t the correct response, but she couldn’t help it. It was bizarre. The whole thing was just too bizarre.

  “What’s so funny?” George asked.

  She shook her head and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Warped sense of humour.”

  George just watched her, waiting for her to continue.

  “Did that interrogation technique work for you a lot?” Gina asked, the sarcasm in her voice a little sharper than she’d expected it to be, even to her own ears.

  “What happened to working on that judgemental thing?” George said, then lowered his gaze. “Sorry, that was uncalled for. Look, I know you won’t believe me. In all honesty, I don’t expect you to, but I truly am sorry for the way everything happened back then. I’m not sorry I met Patricia. I’m not sorry that we fell in love, and I’m especially not sorry that our love resulted in a child.” He waved his hand to indicate the whole room. “If we hadn’t, today would be very different, don’t you think?”

  Kate put a hand on her shoulder and leant over to her ear. “Give him a chance. At least to explain. After all, it’s not really your life this has affected. Nor your mum’s really. She had a good childhood. Isn’t it up to her how she wants to deal with George?”

  She was right, and Gina knew it. But it didn’t stop her thinking how different it all could have been. How different it should have been. Gina took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m still a little shocked. I just can’t stop seeing it. I can’t get it out of my head.”

  “What, Gina?” Alison asked, her voice croaky and hoarse. “What can’t you stop seeing?”

  “Pat.” She picked up her napkin and wiped her cheeks with it.

  “What about her?” Kate asked, wrapping her fingers around Gina’s.

  “I watched her die. I watched her die, begging me to find him, and all along she must have been thinking about the baby she gave up.” The sob escaped. “You,” she said, looking at Alison. “And I was right there. Her granddaughter, and neither of us knew it.” Her chest heaved as Alison’s tears also began to fall. “She seemed so kind. So lovely. And she died in my arms.”

  “And you blame me for it,” George said quietly. “I understand why you’re so angry at me—”

  Gina shook her head and tried to swallow enough to be able to speak. “I don’t blame you because she died. She was killed by a terrorist—” Gina took a deep breath and controlled herself. “I don’t blame you because she died, or how she died, or anything like that. I’m not even angry at you because she made the decision to let your baby be adopted. I know my mum had a good childhood, and we all wouldn’t be here today if not for that choice. I’m angry at you for using her. She seemed so sweet and kind, even after everything she must have gone through, the pain she must have felt. And she was still holding on to the happiness she had with you. I’m angry because that was a lie. Because you used her for your career. For your mission. I’m angry that you started this whole family because you were trying to arrest her father. Didn’t you even think? Didn’t you even consider what the consequences of your actions could be? How devastating the effects on everyone else might be?”

  “You’re right. I didn’t think of any of those things. We were trained not to. But in all honesty, I wouldn’t have let them bother me anyway. If I had, I wouldn’t have been able to do what I needed to do to survive.” He rested his elbows on the table and leant forward. “I wasn’t thinking about the future, Gina, because I didn’t know if I’d even have tomorrow, never mind next year. That’s the reality for a soldier. That’s the question we face every morning when we wake up. Is it today? Will this one be the last day I walk this earth? And we don’t mind that. We don’t question that uncertainty. Instead we answer that question with the pledge that if this is the day I am to die, let my death mean something. Let it ensure a mission, a life, a cause. Let it be for a purpose. “For their tomorrow, we gave our today.” Have you heard that quote?”

  Gina shook her head, but Kate nodded. “John Maxwell Edmonds.”

  “Exactly. For your safety, for your health, for your happiness, we would give our lives, our futures, so that you can live the life you do today. Every serviceman—every single one of us—lives that motto. Every single day.” He sniffed. “So perhaps you’ll forgive an old man the follies of his youth, knowing that his intentions were good, even if his actions didn’t always live up to the standard you would wish of him.”

  He pushed his chair back from the table and stood up. Gina watched as he closed the distance to Alison and held out a card to her. “I know this is a lot to
take in, and I know you will probably have questions. If you wish, we can do a DNA test to confirm what I’ve learnt. I’m more than happy to do that, Alison.” He wrapped his fingers around hers as she took the card and gazed into his eyes.

  Gina stared at them and realised what it was that had appeared so familiar about his eyes when she’d first seen him. They were a mirror image of her mother’s. Of her own. Of Sammy’s. How did I not see it?

  “I would like the chance to get to know you. If you’d like.” He cleared his throat. “But I understand if you don’t.”

  “Where are you going?” Alison asked. “We made extra for you.” Her voice was soft, distant. Almost like she was speaking from a long way away. She looked shell-shocked, completely at a loss as to what she should do or say.

  He smiled sadly. “I think it might be best if I leave.” He reached out slowly and touched her cheek. Tears ran down his face as his sad smile turned joyous. “My little girl.”

  Alison chuckled through her own tears. “Not so little.”

  He put his free hand over his heart. “I may have only just met you, and I may have missed everything a father should see in his daughter’s life,” he sniffed and wiped away her tears with his thumb, “but I don’t want to miss any more. Not if I can help it.” He leant forward and kissed her cheek.

  Alison wrapped her arms around his neck and sobbed against his chest.

  He held her.

  Kate tapped Gina’s back and drew her attention. She spoke quietly so that Alison and George wouldn’t hear her. “Do you really hate him that much?”

  “I don’t hate him.”

  “Then do what you said when you spoke to him on the phone.”

  Gina frowned.

  “Let it go.” She touched the back of Gina’s neck. “Ask him to stay.”

  “Is this another instance of you using my family to make up for the fact that you don’t have to put up with all this crap?” She pulled a face as she said it to let Kate know she really didn’t mean it.

  Kate sniggered. “Something like that.” She dropped her head and looked up at her, giving Gina the most pathetic puppy-dog expression she’d ever seen. “Please.”

  Gina sighed heavily. “George?” she said as he pulled away from Alison.

  “I get it, Gina. I’m going.”

  “Please don’t.”

  He looked at her with a frown.

  “Please stay. I’m sorry I was such a bitch. I have no excuse.”

  “I don’t want to ruin the day for you all any more than I already have.”

  “You’ll only ruin it if you leave,” Kate said. “After all, what’s a family Christmas without the odd disagreement or two, anyway?”

  “I don’t want to argue,” he said, not looking away from Gina.

  She shook her head. “No more arguing. I promise. I really don’t like confrontation.”

  George laughed loudly. “Well, you’re very good at it.”

  She chuckled. “Thanks.” She stood up and went to stand before him. “Please, stay and have Christmas with us. For years, it’s just been me and Sammy on Christmas Day, and I always wanted a big family Christmas. I wanted it to be filled with the people I love, old and new.” She held out her hand to Kate and felt secure and happy as Kate’s fingers clasped her own and she felt the now-familiar heat of her at her shoulder.

  He opened his mouth to speak but seemed unable to get the words out as the tears welled in his eyes again. Instead, he nodded and pulled her into a hug.

  The first time she was held by her grandfather. She closed her eyes and tried to memorise every moment of it—the heavy weight of him against her, the strength of his arms, the scent of Old Spice and mint permeating from him as mulled wine and cinnamon lingered in the air. She breathed it in deep, the new scent of Christmas, of family. And Gina intended to remember it all.

  Something attracted Merlin’s attention, and she ran for the front door, her claws scrabbling across the tiles, barking as she went. Kate frowned and crossed the room, opening the door to the hallway.

  “It’s a card, addressed to you, Gina.”

  Gina frowned and pulled away from George’s embrace. “It’s Christmas Day. The post doesn’t—”

  Kate held up a handwritten envelope bearing Gina’s name and nothing else. No address, no stamp, no postmark.

  Kate dropped it on the kitchen counter and ran out of the house in her bare feet.

  Gina stared at the envelope like it was going to bite her. She was almost convinced it would. Her heart beat wildly, echoing its frantic beat in her ears. It was so deep and so hard that her vision pulsed with each beat, like her view of the world was contracting with every pump.

  When was this going to end? Why today? Couldn’t she just have one day of happiness without a threat or a torment hanging over her? Over them?

  “Gina, what is it?” Her mother touched her arm and picked up the envelope, frowning at it. “What’s wrong?”

  Kate hobbled back into the room, breathless, and limping on the side of one foot. A piece of glass stuck out of the sole. “Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow.” She dropped down in a chair, twisting her leg across her knee to pluck the shard from her flesh. “What does it say?”

  The drops of blood falling to the floor spurred Gina back into action. “Never mind that.” She grabbed a tea towel and dropped to her knees beside Kate, pushing away Kate’s hands and wiping at the blood.

  “Ow.”

  “Big baby.” But she gentled her touch and studied the small cut, trying to ascertain if there was any more glass in it. It looked clean.

  “Where’s your first aid kit?” Alison asked.

  Gina pointed to a cupboard next to the fridge. “Top shelf.” Dabbing the cut, she said, “thanks” when the first aid kit was put down on the table beside her, The lid was opened, and the packet for an alcohol wipe was torn open and handed to her. She smiled up at her mum, took the wipe, and scrunched up her face. “This is going to sting.”

  Kate nodded and sucked a sharp breath in through her teeth at the first touch. “It might be nothing.”

  Gina nodded. “Yeah, it’s just a little cut. I don’t think you need stitches or anything.”

  “I meant the envelope.”

  “Oh. Did you see anyone out there?”

  “No.”

  “Do you want me to open it?” Alison asked.

  Kate looked at Gina as she spoke. “It might be evidence, Alison. Probably best to let me. Can you pass me a pair of those gloves from the first aid kit?”

  Alison stared at the envelope she’d dropped onto the table when she went for the kit and handed over the requested gloves.

  “Evidence? Why?” George frowned as he bent forward to look at the white square envelope. “Just looks like a Christmas card to me.”

  “Sometimes appearances can be deceptive.” Kate slowly peeled open the flap at the back of the envelope and slid out a Christmas card. Santa Claus sat in a sleigh, reindeer at the front, Rudolf’s bright red nose shining brightly. Just a standard, everyday Christmas card.

  Then Gina saw the words at the top. “To The One I Love At Christmas.” She swallowed as Kate opened it and flicked her eyes up to Gina.

  To My Gina,

  My was underlined several times.

  Christmas is a time where loved ones are supposed to be together, but again you’ve ignored me. Chosen her over me. Well, I’m not going to stand for this, Gina. You are mine, and it’s time you learnt that. It’s time you realised that I’m the best thing for you. Not her. I see you holding her hand, letting her kiss you, letting her touch you.

  I don’t know how you can even do it. I don’t know how you can let her touch you instead of me.

  You’re everything to me, Gina. Everything.

  And I will be everything to you.

  “It seems I have a stalker.” Gina sighed. “And he’s getting bolder.”

  ###

  About Andrea Bramhall

  Andrea Bramhall wrote her first
novel at the age of six and three-quarters. It was seven pages long and held together with a pink ribbon. Her Gran still has it in the attic. Since then she has progressed a little bit and now has a number of published works held together with glue, not ribbons, an Alice B. Lavender certificate, a Lambda Literary award, and a Golden Crown award cluttering up her book shelves.

  She studied music and all things arty at Manchester Metropolitan University, graduating in 2002 with a BA in contemporary arts. She is certain it will prove useful someday…maybe.

  When she isn’t busy running a campsite in the Lake District, Bramhall can be found hunched over her laptop scribbling down the stories that won’t let her sleep. She can also be found reading, walking the dogs up mountains while taking a few thousand photos, scuba diving while taking a few thousand photos, swimming, kayaking, playing the saxophone, or cycling.

  CONNECT WITH ANDREA

  Website: andreabramhall.wordpress.com

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/AndreaBramhall

  Other Books from Ylva Publishing

  www.ylva-publishing.com

  Collide-O-Scope

  (Norfolk Coast Investigation Story – Book 1)

  Andrea Bramhall

  ISBN: 978-3-95533-574-8 (mobi), 978-3-95533-575-5 (epub)

  Length: 90,000 words (291 pages)

  An unidentified woman is found murdered on the North Norfolk Coastal Path and newly promoted Detective Sergeant Kate Brannon and King’s Lynn CID have the task of figuring out whom, how, and why. A job that’s made more difficult when everyone of the forty residents in the village has something to hide and answers her questions with a string of lies.

  Georgina Temple has her own secrets to keep, and her own reasons to keep them. But her growing attraction to Kate makes it increasingly difficult to keep them.

  Kate’s investigation into the woman’s death delves into the heart of the tiny fishing village where nothing and no one is quite what they seem.

  Mine to Keep