No Turning Back

by Susan Lewis

  ‘I know, but it’s not the same.’

  ‘Oh, Evie, please don’t let Daddy hear you say that. He tries very hard to make us happy and we are, really, aren’t we?’

  Eva nodded because she was supposed to, and actually she wasn’t unhappy with her father and Patty – and Granny B when she came to help take care of them – she just wanted the mummy who used to swing her round when she was little and make her laugh; who told her stories about fairies and sang her songs; who lay on the bed with her when she was afraid the monsters would get her; who loved to dance and made everything smell so nice.

  ‘I know what happened to her now,’ she confided to her best friend when she was twelve. Though the suspicion was choking her, making her want to scream out with all sorts of emotions she’d never felt before, she had to tell someone and she was afraid of what Patty would say if she told her. ‘She ran off with another man.’

  Her friend’s eyes had almost burst from her head.

  ‘I reckon that’s what happened,’ Eva continued knowledgeably, ‘and no one wants to tell me.’

  ‘But it would be really mean to say she’s dead if she isn’t,’ her friend pointed out.

  ‘They only tell me that to stop me going to look for her.’

  ‘So is that what you’re going to do?’

  ‘I don’t know. I mean, I think I should, but I don’t really know where to start.’

  Her friend gave it some thought, apparently wanting to be helpful. In the end she’d said, ‘Why don’t you ask Patty where the grave is? If there isn’t one, then it could be that you’re right, she isn’t dead.’

  So Eva had asked and Patty had told her that their mother had been cremated and her ashes were scattered in a wood where she used to go with Daddy.

  Eva hadn’t really known whether or not to believe that, but she did know that it was around about then that she’d stopped asking about her mother, and tried to stop thinking about her too. She wouldn’t even let herself cry in secret any more, because she obviously wasn’t coming back and anyway she didn’t want her to, because if she had gone off with another man and broken Daddy’s heart then they definitely didn’t want her.

  It was only when her fame had started to grow that Eva had allowed herself to wonder about her mother again, and how proud she might be of the young model who was taking the fashion world by storm. She’d only changed her name to Angelina because her father had insisted. ‘One day you might want to go back to your studies and start living a normal life again,’ he’d said. ‘You’ll find that easier if you can separate the real you from who you’re about to become.’

  Though she’d argued at first, she’d soon let it drop, afraid that her father might put his foot down and veto her fast-developing career altogether if she didn’t agree – or at least until she’d acquired three decent A levels, and probably a university degree. He had tried very hard to talk her into putting her education first, which, being a teacher himself, was hardly surprising, but with Patty and Elaine, his oldest friend and by then soon to be second wife, fighting her corner he’d reluctantly accepted that he was never going to win.

  ‘Oh, there you are,’ Jasmine accused from inside the kitchen. ‘Does this belong to anyone?’

  Eva turned and found to her dismay that Jasmine was holding up the Saturday Siesta. ‘Actually, I was keeping it for Patty,’ she replied.

  Jasmine looked around. ‘So where is she?’

  Eva glanced over to the conservatory and to her surprise saw that it was empty. ‘She must have gone out to the car,’ she answered. ‘So what are your plans for the rest of the day?’ Please don’t let her be intending to hang around here, she was praying inwardly. She wanted to speak to Patty alone, and Jasmine’s uncanny knack of sensing when she wasn’t wanted almost always resulted in a decision not to make herself scarce.

  ‘Actually, I’m going over to Weymouth with some of my friends,’ Jasmine told her. ‘There’s a concert on the beach so we’re taking a picnic. Is there anything in the fridge?’

  ‘I haven’t done a shop yet,’ Eva replied, ‘but help yourself to whatever you can find.’

  Starting to rummage, Jasmine said, ‘Have you spoken to Dad yet?’

  ‘I don’t have a reason to,’ Eva answered, ‘but you can always call him yourself, if you need to speak to him. I’m sure his mobile will be on again by now.’

  Jasmine shrugged. ‘It doesn’t particularly bother me where he might be. I just thought you might be, you know, worried?’

  Already guessing where this was going, Eva could only wonder why she even bothered to say, ‘Why would I be worried?’

  Jasmine broke a couple of yoghurts from a six-pack. ‘Because,’ she replied.

  Eva waited.

  ‘It’s just that personally speaking,’ Jasmine went on, ‘if I were you, I’d be worried but hey, what do I know?’

  Deciding not to allow this to go any further, Eva walked round the bar and offered to help cut some sandwiches.

  ‘It’s OK, I’ll get a baguette on the way,’ Jasmine informed her. Then, after a beat, ‘So you reckon Dad’s playing golf?’

  ‘Jasmine, either come to the point, or change the subject.’

  Flushing at the rebuke, Jasmine said, ‘You know what they say about men who dump their wives, if they’ve done it once they’ll do it again, so if I were you I’d watch out.’

  Eva could almost hear Allison’s voice blending with Jasmine’s, and had to wonder if there would ever be a time when the woman would let go of the bitterness that must be eating her up like a cancer by now. Not that she minded for herself, as far as she was concerned the woman could fester all she liked, it still wouldn’t make Eva responsible for the break-up of her marriage. However, using Jasmine to try and cause trouble for her father did bother Eva, since, to her mind, it was an unforgivable way to treat her own daughter.

  Resisting the temptation to ask how Allison was, thereby letting Jasmine know that she wasn’t fooled, Eva turned with a smile to watch Elvis and Rosie lolloping across the grass towards her. By the time they arrived, all snorting enthusiasm and tail-wagging joy, Patty was coming back through the conservatory.

  ‘I’m sorry about that,’ she said, stooping to join Eva’s fussing of the imperfect pair – or the odd couple, as they most often referred to them. ‘I didn’t think it would take so long and now I’m afraid …’

  ‘Do you have something I can put this in?’ Jasmine interrupted.

  ‘There’s a picnic basket, top shelf in the hall cupboard,’ Eva told her. ‘What are you doing about drinks?’

  ‘We’ll buy something there. I don’t suppose you can lend me ten quid, can you? I haven’t had my allowance from Dad yet this month.’

  Knowing that wasn’t true, but not prepared to argue, Eva cocked an eyebrow at Patty before going to take her purse from her bag. ‘Here,’ she said, handing over a ten-pound note, ‘you can pay me back when your allowance comes through.’

  ‘Don’t worry I will,’ Jasmine said sweetly, and grabbing up the assortment of goodies she’d laid claim to, she flounced off to the hall.

  ‘I’m sure she knew her father wouldn’t be here this morning,’ Eva murmured as the door closed behind her. ‘So I can only assume she gets a kick out of trying to wind me up.’

  ‘Or out of telling her mother about it later,’ Patty commented. ‘Actually, probably both. Anyway, please don’t hate me, but I’m afraid I have to love you and leave you. Oh, no, Evie, don’t look like that. You knew I was short of time when you rang.’

  ‘Are you trying to avoid me?’ Eva challenged. ‘You’ve never got any time lately …’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Patty interrupted. ‘I happen to be busy, that’s all.’

  ‘But never too busy for Coral, it would seem.’

  Patty flushed guiltily. ‘All right, what do you want to talk about?’ she said. ‘The article, of course …’

  ‘Not just that. There are other things going on in my life that I want
to tell you about …’ She broke off as Patty put her keys and phone on the table and pulled out a chair to sit down.

  ‘OK, I’m listening,’ Patty said.

  Annoyed at being made to feel childish, Eva said, ‘Now is obviously not the time.’

  ‘I said I’m listening. Tell me what’s bothering you, up here in this perfect world of yours.’

  Eva’s eyes flashed. ‘It might seem that way to you, and OK, I know I’m luckier than most, but it’s not my fault your marriage fell apart …’

  Patty put up a hand. ‘If this is going to be about Reece …’

  ‘It’s about me,’ Eva shouted, ‘and the great big empty space in my life that belongs to my son.’

  Patty’s face fell as a wave of unease coasted across her heart. ‘Oh, Evie, Evie,’ she murmured, coming to embrace her. ‘You found out twelve years ago that adoptions can’t be reversed, so what do you want me to say? If I could change what happened I swear I would, but you know I can’t.’

  Maybe not, but you could at least let me talk about him sometimes, Eva wanted to cry. Letting him go was the biggest mistake of my life and I can’t get over it just because you don’t want to discuss it. What she said was, ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘You know you don’t have to be, I understand how difficult it is for you.’

  ‘Do you?’

  Patty seemed surprised. ‘Do you doubt it?’

  With a sigh, Eva shook her head. ‘Of course not.’

  Tilting Eva’s face up, Patty said, ‘At least you have the letter-box contact that allows you to send him cards and presents on his birthday …’

  ‘But never to know anything about him,’ Eva cried helplessly, ‘not even his name. I don’t even know if the things I send actually reach him …’ She broke off, afraid if she went any further she’d end up blurting out the fact that she’d recently reapplied to the court for more information, even if it was simply to be told how he was getting on at school now he was so close to sixteen. She hadn’t told Patty – or Don – because they’d only have tried to talk her out of it. They were always so protective of her – to a point that sometimes felt stifling – and they wouldn’t have forgotten how traumatised she’d been after her first application for information had failed.

  ‘I can see that this article’s unsettled you badly,’ Patty said softly. ‘So where is it? Let me have a look.’

  After a quick search Eva realised Jasmine must have taken it with her. ‘What a fool to tell her I was keeping it for you,’ she muttered. ‘But you’ll be able to pick one up at any newsagent’s.’

  Gazing tenderly into her eyes, Patty said, ‘I really do have to leave now, so are you going to be OK?’

  ‘Of course,’ Eva sighed. ‘We can talk again after you’ve read it.’

  ‘Has Don seen it yet?’

  ‘I don’t think so. He won’t be pleased.’

  ‘Probably not, but at least we don’t have to worry about Micky Bradshaw picking it up and deciding to come and find you.’

  Eva shuddered at the mere thought. She wouldn’t mention anything about her fear of copy-cat maniacs, because voicing it might make it worse, so she simply pulled a face and said, ‘Jasmine had another go just now at trying to insinuate her father’s having an affair.’ Then, with no little irony, ‘I wonder where – or perhaps I should say who – on earth that could have come from.’

  Patty’s face was tightening with annoyance. ‘Her mother, obviously,’ she retorted, ‘but you shouldn’t take any notice, because you know he’s devoted to you.’

  Eva smiled fondly. ‘You’d better run,’ she said. ‘Where are you going, by the way?’

  Patty rolled her eyes and reached for her keys and phone. ‘Would you believe, I’ve allowed myself to be roped into running Marianne’s jewellery stall from twelve till three? Without pay, I hasten to add. And I have to stop by her house on the way to pick up her mobile which she managed to leave behind this morning, as only Marianne can.’ Cupping a hand round Eva’s cheek, she said, ‘We’ll talk tomorrow, OK? I should be free in the afternoon. Or hang on, I promised Jake I’d go and watch him play cricket. We’ll sort something out, anyway.’

  ‘Of course,’ Eva said. ‘Give my love to Marianne, and tell her we sold three of her necklaces this week, including the snowflake obsidian.’

  Patty looked impressed. ‘She’ll be thrilled. Now, promise me you won’t worry, but if you do I’ll be at the end of the phone.’

  A few minutes later Eva was gazing up at the security monitor watching Patty driving out through the gates, and feeling so absurdly abandoned that she almost wanted to run after her. Fortunately, she’d had enough counselling after the attack to recognise why she found it so hard to let go of her sister at times – it was all to do with the loss of their mother, of course, and seeing Patty as her security now – and since she’d learned to take deep breaths while waiting for the moments of panic to pass, she began to do just that.

  Once the gates had closed and Patty’s car had disappeared from the screen, Eva picked up the remote control and began to flick to each of the other cameras dotted around the property. Everything was as it should be, including the garden, which had been landscaped by a very talented local designer, and fortified magnificently by a builder who, to his own surprise, had discovered a flair for making what were effectively prison walls blend magically into a spectacular view. Don, who owned and ran the security company that protected the house, had even trained a camera on the field where the horses were currently bundling towards the stables. Another flick of the remote showed Sasha, one of the local girls who mucked them out, fed them and rode them, getting out of her car.

  Eva’s world as it existed now was right there on a CCTV screen. She could even, if she went to the computer, check what was going on at the shop. Deciding she would, she carried her ginger beer off to the study, and after a few strategic clicks a grainy black and white image flickered to life. A moment later, her niece’s lovely elfin face loomed grotesquely towards the lens.

  Laughing, Eva closed the image down, and wandered back into the circular entrance hall where a travertine staircase swept in a dramatic funnel shape to the upper landing, and a huge domed glass ceiling allowed copious rays of sunlight to stream like misty rain into the house.

  She was safe and happy, Don had made sure of that, and with her family around her, Patty at the cosy little barn that she’d renovated near Burton Bradstock, and Elaine, her stepmother, running the spiritual retreat between Waytown and Salway Ash, she had no reason to feel lonely or afraid. Her niece and nephew were close by too, and all the friends she’d made during the years she’d been here. This was home now, and she couldn’t imagine ever wanting to be anywhere else. Only her parents were missing …

  And her son.

  Her son.

  Where was he? What had happened to him? How on earth could she have done what she had? She’d never held him, hadn’t even allowed herself to look at him. What kind of person did that make her? What kind of mother could turn her back on her own child? Better that she had died, leaving the same kind of void her own mother had left in her life, than to have abandoned, rejected, him the way she had. She didn’t deserve any forgiveness for that, and she wasn’t asking for it, she only wanted to be sure that he was safe and loved and perhaps to know his name. Was that really too much to ask? The courts had thought so when she’d tried to find out about him before, so she knew there was a danger she was going to end up being bitterly disappointed by the action she’d recently taken. However, the alternative of trying to carry on as though he didn’t exist had, some time ago, ceased to be an option.

  Chapter Two

  Don Montgomery’s presence was always felt the instant he walked into a room. He was a tall, powerfully built man who, though close to fifty, remained remarkably good-looking with strong, though misaligned features, thinning silver hair and a healthily tanned complexion, thanks to the sailing and golf he somehow managed to cram into his hectic life. Thoug
h not in any way a chauvinist, his years on the police force had honed his self-confidence to a point that could easily be confused with arrogance. And it was true, he didn’t suffer fools in any shape or form, nor did he have much tolerance for those who broke the law, whatever the excuse. However, he was one of the kindest, most sensitive men Eva had ever known, with the sort of integrity that made her proud to be his wife, and an unshakable commitment to making her feel loved and safe.

  Right now, he was heading from the spacious study he occupied next to Eva’s, while finishing a phone call to the security chief at the caravan park Patty managed. He was dressed in a tailor-made dinner suit with the bow tie hanging loosely down the front of his pin-pleated shirt and his cummerbund stuffed into a trouser pocket. ‘OK, we’ll get the engineers on it first thing tomorrow,’ he was saying, ‘so keep an operative on the spot for tonight. Great. Good man. Call if there are any problems, I’ll have the phone with me.’ Without waiting for a response, he clicked off the line and shouted up the stairs, ‘Are you ready? Taxi’ll be here any minute.’

  ‘Were you calling me?’ Eva said teasingly, as she appeared at the top of the stairs.

  As he turned to look up his deep-set brown eyes darkened with feeling. She was exquisite in a gold floor-length silk dress that clung to her slender curves like a wish, and showed off one angular shoulder to heart-stopping perfection. The other was covered by a single wide strap that rose from the bodice of her gown at the front and descended at the back to mask her scars, while a matching pair of full-length gloves provided a suggestive sort of modesty for her arms. ‘You look sensational,’ he told her as she began her descent.

  Tilting her head to one side, she treated him to a coquettish smile that trembled slightly as the intensity of his eyes seemed to reach into places he kissed and stroked during their intimate moments. Her hair was swept high and held by a diamanté clip, while a loose cascade of tendrils provided a corkscrew veil for the damaged side of her face. ‘Thank you,’ she said, taking his hand as she reached the bottom. ‘You’re looking fairly dashing yourself. Or perhaps I mean rakish.’