by Susan Lewis
'Call me again in an hour. I need to hear your voice.'
'I need to hear yours too. I'll be in a meeting, but I'll only be thinking of you.'
She spluttered with laughter. 'Now you've gone too far,' she accused.
'You're doubting me?'
'Would I?'
He laughed. 'I always knew I was the luckiest man alive to have you as my wife. You don't have to keep reminding me.'
More tears welled in her eyes. 'I'm the lucky one.' she said brokenly. 'I just don't ever want to lose you.'
'Then come home soon. We all love you and miss you, so it's time we were a family again.'
As she put the phone down she leaned over it and began to cry with more heartache than she'd ever felt in her life.
Chapter Twenty
Later that night Fen came over and helped to build a fire, which they settled down in front of with bottles of wine and water to read the newly discovered journal. To Julia it seemed right for Fen to share in her father's last recorded thoughts, because, in her way, she'd been as much a daughter to him as she had. And to do it here, in the cosy sitting room of his house, with a fire flickering in the hearth, and the curtains drawn against the wintry night, felt right too.
'I've already looked through it,' she said, curling into the corner of a sofa, 'so I want to read you the parts that I think really matter.'
Fen sank down on a feathery cushion beside the hearth and leaned back against the stone fireplace, one knee raised to prop up the hand holding her wine glass. She looked every bit the horsewoman she was, Julia was thinking as she regarded her. with her cloud of wild red hair, her lovely ivory skin cast warmly in the glow of the flames, and the obligatory jodhpurs and sweater.
'What?' Fen asked curiously.
Julia smiled and shook her head, then turned to the book. 'I'll start with 24th September this year,' she said, opening it at the page she'd marked. She glanced at Fen again, then to the gentle accompaniment of the wind outside and occasional crackle and shift in the hearth, she began to read her father's words.
'"Julia is mine. How can I even begin to express how happy that makes me? All these years of wondering and agonising, feeling certain one day, and doubtful the next ... Tears fill my eyes as I think of my beautiful girl, who is a woman now, and my heart fills up with so much love, the wonderful love a father feels for his precious only child. I keep thinking of all I've missed, and how truly fulfilled our lives would have been if only I'd made Alice and George prove their claim. I blame myself for not having more faith, but I was so afraid of what it would do to Julia if I'd discovered they were telling the truth.
'"It's tempting to ramble on with all my disjointed thoughts now, as memories come back, and regrets keep surfacing, but I want to write this down as it happened, to tell how I found out this most important and joyful of truths. Perhaps it will help me come to decisions that are eluding me now. It began with a curious visit I had last week from a woman who claimed Rene had sent her. At first I had to struggle to remember who Rene was - had she given the surname I'd have known immediately, of course, but so many years have gone by now that I will forgive myself the rather surprising lapse. She was talking of Rene
Hope, George's wife. A dowdy little creature, as I recall. Never used to say much, but always seemed to know more than she should. That was my perception of her, anyway. I remember writing to her begging for news of Julia after I left, but she never wrote back. Now, all these years later, she sends a stranger to see me, who I believe must be a private detective of sorts, and it's from this stranger that I finally learn that Julia is my daughter, my own flesh and blood. As I write those words I feel so much relief and happiness that my hands are shaking. If only I'd challenged them, but if I'd been wrong, it would have meant abandoning Julia to the horror of knowing that George was much more than her uncle. I couldn't do that to her, so I kept silent to protect her, as they knew I would.
'"I try never to remember the day I caught them together, but the images of that terrible scene are indelibly printed in my mind. It changed my life completely, and I believe I knew, almost from the instant I came upon them, that it would be me who ended up losing everything and I turned out to be right.
'"I'd always known Pam wasn't mine, she was born even before Alice and I met, and though it would be easy to say now that I suspected who her real father was, I don't really believe I did. With Julia, there had never been any doubt - until they planted it. Alice and I had been (I thought) happily married at the time Julia was conceived, and I was there at the birth. It was only later that I felt things starting to go wrong between me and Alice, and even wondered if she was involved with
Pam's father again - the mysterious salesman who'd captivated her as a teenager, and left her broken-hearted and pregnant. It turns out I was right of course, she was indeed involved with Pam's father again. It would seem that whatever compels her and George to flout everything, from God's word to the law of the land, was clearly too strong for them to resist.'"
Keeping her eyes lowered, Julia reached for her glass and took a sip. Though she'd read these words earlier, they seemed to be having a far greater impact now, and she could only wonder what Fen was thinking, if her mind was recoiling as strongly as hers was.
Putting her drink down again, she turned over the page and continued to read.
'"I'm not sure when I first really started to suspect them, I think it just rose up gradually from the darkest corners of my mind, until finally the terrible reality of it was hard to ignore. But still I said nothing, and still I told myself I was wrong. How could any man think such a thing of his wife, or of a conscientious church-goer like George? I confess, I'd never warmed to the man, but for a long time I detested myself for my own depraved thoughts, rather than detesting him for what I feared to be true. I watched Rene, trying to work out what she might know, or what she was thinking, but I never could.
'"Then one day, the fateful day, I turned up at the house unexpectedly, and there they were. Clearly believing themselves safe, they hadn't even taken themselves off to the bedroom. They were to engrossed in each other that they didn't
even hear me come in. For a while I could only stand, frozen in shock, unwilling to accept what my eyes were seeing. Two naked bodies coupling on the floor in front of the hearth. The scene that followed, as I grabbed him away from her and knocked him half senseless, was ugly in the extreme, though nothing could surpass the ugliness of what I had seen. Alice shrieked and wept and begged me to stop, but I wanted to kill him. I wanted to kill her too, but I'd never raised my hand to a woman before, and I didn't then, though perhaps she deserved it.
'"I will relive no more of it, because it distresses me still, all I will say is that the days that followed took me deeper and deeper into a nightmare from which I could find no escape. Alice was unrepentant, even unashamed. She became a woman I hardly knew, nor did I want to. She refused to give him up, and even accused me of being the one who was sick, because I was so obsessed with a child who she then claimed wasn't mine. She threatened to tell the world what I got up to with Julia and I was so appalled I barely knew how to defend myself. I had never laid a finger on Julia in that way, nor would I. Then George started adding his threats to Alice's, and claiming his paternal rights and I soon realised that if I didn't go, Julia's suffering was likely to be even greater than mine.
"'So they used my love for my daughter to protect themselves. They knew I would never want to put her through the shame of finding out she was a child bom of incest, or the stigma of having to live with it after. I didn't even want the word to touch her, never mind the reality, so I
never told another living soul what I'd seen that day, apart from my darling Gwen of course. I still wonder how I'd have survived had she not come into my life when she did. God knew I was close to the end of my tether by then, but He must have been smiling on me that day, as He hadn't smiled on me since the day I'd last seen my girl.'" Julia stopped and took a breath. 'Are you OK?' Fen as
ked softly. She nodded, then looked around the walls, into the comers and up to the rafters. 'I keep feeling as though he's here in the room, do you?' she said.
Fen smiled. 'Maybe he is,' she responded.
Julia smiled too, and turned her gaze to the photograph of her father and Gwen on the table next to her. Then going back to the journal she started to read on.
'"It has taken me almost a week to come to terms with the terrible feelings I have felt towards Alice and George since learning the truth. At first, I wanted nothing more than to take a bloody and bitter revenge for all the years they have stolen from Julia and me, but as the days have passed I've discovered that Gwen's gentling influence on my life and my heart has been as lasting as it was profound, because I now find myself more rational in my thoughts and able to cope. I no longer have much time in this world, so I have chosen to try and forget their treachery, to let go of all feelings of hatred and vengeance, and think only of my girl. Alas, Rene's messenger didn't bring photographs of her, but she brought some of my grandchildren, and to look at them brings indescribable joy to my heart. A girl and a boy. Shannon and Daniel. So
beautiful and so handsome. I feel so very proud of them. To think, I am a grandfather. It is the greatest possible source of happiness a man could know. I only wish I could meet them before I go."'
A tear fell onto Julia's cheek as she turned a page. '"25th September,"' she read. '"After days of much soul-searching and painful indecision, I finally found the courage to pick up the phone and call Julia. I longed to hear her voice, to know how she is, to share with her some of the events of these past twenty or more years, but in the end I decided it would be an act of the greatest selfishness to impose a sick and dying father upon her now, so I rang off before she came to the phone. She has her own life to be going on with, as a busy mother and wife, a successful editor, I'm told, with a husband who's very successful too, and apparently loves her very much. I approve of him just for that. I did get to speak to my granddaughter though, and I thank God for that. I'm only sorry I won't hear my grandson, but I've now decided that this is no time for reunions, when the final goodbye is so close. The gift I will give them will be this house, and all the love it has known through my darling Gwen, and perhaps this book, which maybe, one day soon, Julia will read. But of course she won't, because there is too much in it that I would never want her to know, I just like to pretend to myself that it's possible for me to share all this with her, without causing her pain. I will destroy it soon, but for now it is helping me to remember, and allowing me the pleasure of speaking to her almost as though she were here."'
Having to pause to dab away her tears, Julia
glanced at Fen and saw that her eyes were full too. '"29th September,'" she read, after clearing her throat. '"I have felt too weak to write much for a while, but I am sitting here on the bed now, having made it down the stairs, unassisted, to fetch this book. Fen would be very cross with me if she knew, but I'm feeling rather proud of my little triumph. She came to sit with me last night, as she does most nights. I know her heart is troubled over Bob, but she won't talk to me now, the way she used to. It's because I'm sick, I know, but I do my best to soothe her by holding her hand, and I think she appreciates it. In truth, I think it is me who gets the better end of that deal, because I love it when she's here. She tells me about her day, which is always interesting because of the bizarre and barmy people she meets, and I love to see the way her eyes sparkle when she tells me things I probably ought not to hear. It is my dearest wish that she and Julia should become friends. I hope my passing will bring them together, and that they will know as much joy of each other as I have known of them.'"
Julia looked at Fen and they both smiled, knowing his wish had come true.
'"4th October,'" Julia read. '"I haven't been at all well this past day or so. Fen says I should move to the bedroom downstairs, and I think she's right. It would make it easier for everyone, including me. What would I do without dear Fen? And her father, who's been like a brother to me. I'm sure he lets me win at backgammon, because he can't really be that bad.'"
Both Fen and Julia laughed, and Fen swallowed the lump in her throat.
"'5th October. I've been wondering today about Rene's motive for sending me the truth about Julia when she did, and I fear that she was hoping to stir up my wrath to avenge her own pain. If I am correct, then I will take only the good that has come from it, and leave the rest to her.
"'Tilde is fussing over me like an old mother hen, and I love to hear her. I asked her if she'd care for a dance just now, and the daft old thing started to cry. (She must have a memory of me treading on her toe.) They're moving me downstairs later and I must remember to take this book with me, though I fear I won't be writing much more. My hand is no longer steady, and my eyes are failing. I feel the end drawing close. I lie quietly for long stretches of time that seem only like minutes, but sometimes years. I fill my mind with the memories I have of Julia growing up, all the laughter we shared, the secrets, and the love. I managed to take some of her things when I left, little mementoes that would remind me of her, but they're in the attic now, so I can't get to them. I imagine her with her lovely children, beautiful and happy, and though I know we won't meet again in this world, I believe there will be a lot of time for us in the next.'"
Again Julia had to take a pause before she could read on. '"Julia, my Julia,'" she finally managed. "'How happy it makes me to be able to write that and know it is true. Though I doubt you will ever read this, my darling, because later I shall burn it, I want you to know that I never forgot you, even for a minute, and wherever I might be after I leave this world, I shall be watching over you.
Goodnight, now. God bless. Remember to let the angels know if you're in a mess.'"
As she finished Julia's voice was thick with tears. 'He used to say that to me when I was a child,' she said, barely able to utter the words. 'Let the angels know when you're in a mess. He said they'd let him know and he'd come to sort it out.'
Fen gave her a while to collect herself, then drying her own eyes, she got up to refill their glasses. 'Let's drink to him, wherever he is now,' she said.
'And to Gwen,' Julia added. 'Let's hope they're together.'
'To Douglas and Gwen,' Fen said, clinking her glass. 'And to us for making one of his dearest wishes come true.'
After they drank, Fen returned to her cushion by the fire and said, 'He must have slipped the book under his bed, and after his stroke he couldn't let any of us know it was there - which means you were meant to have it.'
Julia smiled and nodded.
'Have you read any of it to Josh yet?'
'No, but I will, when he has time to listen. He's pretty busy right now, with work and the children.' Her eyes were drifting off to nowhere. 'I should go back,' she said quietly. 'I mean I will. They need me and I've been away too long.'
'Have you spoken to Shannon?'
'No, but she finally answered one of my texts today TO say she was feeling OK about her exams.'
Fen watched her, waiting for her to say more, but the didn't, so in the end Fen said, 'Something else is bothering you, isn't it?' Julia's eyes came to hers.
'It's all right, you don't have to tell me,' Fen said softly. 'I think I can guess.'
The next few days seemed to pass in a blur as Julia finished clearing the attic, spoke to the police on the phone, and made a trip into Bodmin with Fen. They ordered a new bed, then wandered down the high street to have lunch at one of the trendy cafes, where they talked long into the afternoon. There was much to discuss, but even the support of such a good friend wasn't helping to ease the new and devastating fear that Julia had building inside. For now though, she kept putting it aside, focusing her mind on the present, and not daring to think beyond it.
She spoke to Josh several times a day, even when neither of them had much to say. It seemed they both felt the need to hear the other, and though he was trying very hard not to press her about coming home, she knew
her failure to set a date was concerning and confusing him.
'Would you like me to come and get you?' he offered after five days had gone by.
'No, it's fine. I can do the drive. I'll just hang on here until the new bed is delivered, then I'll be on my way back.'
'When will that be?'
'They said the day after tomorrow.'
He knew very well that Fen or one of her family would oversee the delivery if asked, but he didn't put it to her, and she didn't mention it either. Instead, because it was very early in the morning, and no-one else was up yet, she read him the last entries in her father's journal.
'Of course we'll keep the house now,' he said when she'd finished. 'I'll speak to the probate officer, and get a final bill.' 'Thank you,' she whispered. After a pause, he said, 'Do you want to live there? Is that what this is about?'
'No, I want to live with you, and you have to be in London. We can have this place for holidays and weekends.'
'Then I don't understand what's happening,' he confessed. 'If you need more space, if you'd rather I stopped calling for a while ...'
'No, please don't do that. I'm sorry, everything will be fine, I promise. I'll be home by the weekend.'
After ringing off she turned away from the phone and gazed out at the first glimmers of dawn. Rather than think of her promise, she imagined them all spending Christmas here, and how wonderful it would be. She was sure they'd want to, so maybe she'd bring it up the next time they spoke.
Later in the day she returned from the supermarket to find a message on the machine from Rico. It was the first time he'd called for almost three weeks, and hearing his voice turned her so hot inside that she almost felt faint.
'I have all my land in Italy,' he'd told her. 'It is my father's now, but one day it can be ours. You will be so happy here ...'
She was picturing him in Tuscany, living the kind of life so many English women dreamt of, but it wasn't for her. There was only one life she wanted, and she was going back to it any day now.