by Nina Milne
‘You could do it if you wanted to,’ Gemma said simply. ‘You’re choosing not to.’
April tried to think of a response, but knew anything she said would sound like an excuse. How could she explain to Gemma that she might be pregnant, that even if she wasn’t she had to get away? The world outside her safe, calm bubble was too bright, too overwhelming, too scary.
‘I’m sorry,’ was the best she could come up with.
‘Don’t worry about it. And thank you again for all your help at the centre.’
Swivelling on her heel, Gemma turned back towards the community centre and April tamped down the guilt and headed for the sleek black car that had pulled up at the kerb.
Marcus emerged and opened the door for her, then waited as she slid in before climbing in after her.
‘Is everything OK?’
‘Fine. It went well today. But it’s sad to see all those people who have lost so much. I am impressed with how efficient and well organised the services are—and Frederick has promised temporary accommodation to all who need it and he seems to be making good on that promise.’
She glanced at him.
‘That can’t be easy to get sorted, and I’m guessing that you have spent a large part of your day on it.’ He looked tired, with dark smudges under his eyes, and she wondered when he’d last actually slept.
‘It’s not only that. It’s about how to sort out the housing issue. This can’t happen again, so that means new houses will have to be constructed properly. And that means continued upheaval and, of course, a need for revenue.’ He shook his head. ‘Anyway, that isn’t your problem.’
‘Are you sure you want to see your parents tonight? I didn’t mean it had to be instantly.’
‘That’s fine—at least we won’t have to cook. I’ve said that you have a dairy allergy. That way you can avoid eggs and unpasteurised cheese or milk without having to explain why.’
Warmth touched her that somewhere in his day Marcus had found time to research the foods that pregnant women needed to avoid.
‘Thank you.’
‘There is something I need to tell you. It’s not a big deal, but it may come up. Elvira and I are adopted.’
It was impossible to read his expression. His features were silhouetted against the dusky Lycander evening. Her brain whirred as she processed the information and its meaning, and guilt smote her anew. Her decision to choose adoption if she was pregnant must have resonated with him on such a deep level.
‘I... I don’t know what to say.’
‘There is no need to say anything.’ His voice was flat. ‘And please don’t jump to any conclusions. Adoption was the very best option for Elvira and for me, and I have nothing but gratitude that we were taken in.’
A glance out of the window and he nodded.
‘We’re here.’
April blinked, realising he had timed this in such a way that she would have no opportunity to ask questions. In truth, her brain was too abuzz for her even to be able to formulate any. Why hadn’t Marcus told her?
Hurt touched her but she focused on her surroundings, wanting to imprint them on her mind so that if it came to it one day she would be able to picture her child here.
She followed Marcus across a gravelled courtyard, saw the sprawl of a beautiful terracotta-hued villa lit by an alluring twinkle of artful fairy lights. The door opened and an elegant woman with ash-blonde hair opened the door.
‘Marcus. It is so lovely to see you.’ She turned to April, a look of wariness and curiosity in her bright blue eyes. ‘And you must be April. I’m Louise. I’ve read so many of your articles; you have a wonderful turn of phrase.’
‘Thank you. It’s very kind of you to invite me to dinner.’
‘Our pleasure. Come in.’
April followed Louise into a spacious living room, aware of the quiet elegance of its furnishings that created a homely, comfortable atmosphere. A dark-haired man stood in front of a mantelpiece—a man who, oddly enough, reminded her of Marcus. Of course now she knew that the resemblance couldn’t be hereditary—so what was it? Perhaps it was the man’s stance, his posture of confidence and authority. The smile he gave his wife softened his face, and she could see an unspoken communication pass between them.
‘Good evening, April. I’m Bill Alrikson. Can I offer you a drink?’
‘I’d love a soft drink—I’m working tonight and I have a busy day tomorrow, so I’d best avoid alcohol.’
Too much information, April.
Louise turned in an abrupt movement and April did her best to look as bland as possible, realising she had taken a step closer to Marcus—a move Louise had also clocked.
Relief swathed her as the door opened and Elvira burst in.
‘Big Bro!’ she exclaimed, and headed straight for Marcus, giving him a hug. Then, ‘Mama... Pops.’ Two more hugs and then she turned to April, a smile on her face but wariness rather than welcome in her dark blue eyes.
‘So,’ Louise said, ‘I understand you’re writing about “the real Marcus Alrikson”. How can we help?’
Straight to the chase.
Belatedly it occurred to April that she should have prepared some questions—she could hardly come out with, Do you think he’d make a good dad? Or, What sort of grandparents would you be?
‘Could you maybe tell me a bit about his childhood?’
Further mistake.
She had no idea when Marcus had been adopted—didn’t even know whether he and Elvira were from the same birth family or not.
But Louise didn’t bat an eyelid. ‘Of course. Marcus was a very serious child, and that’s why some of my very favourite memories are of when he laughed or even smiled.’ She turned to her husband. ‘Do you remember the bicycle?’
‘Yes.’ Bill stepped forward and handed April a mocktail. ‘It was a birthday gift. Marcus never asked for anything, but we were sure he’d love a bike. I still remember his face when he saw it. It lit up.’ Bill handed Marcus a whisky. ‘And then he offered to pay us back for it.’
‘Obviously we refused,’ Louise interpolated, with a quick glance at her husband. ‘And then he took the bike and disappeared for hours. He came back with cuts and bruises but with another smile on his face because he could ride it. It was a two-smile day!’
‘Then there was the time he ran away from boarding school,’ Bill said.
Louise shook her head. ‘Elvira had just started school, and Marcus took it into his head that he needed to be here to make sure she didn’t get bullied.’
The image of a teenage Marcus arriving home to protect his little sister was so vivid in April’s head that she blinked to clear it.
‘Did it work?’ she asked, turning to Elvira, who was watching her with suspicion still evident in her gaze. It occurred to April that the protective instinct worked two ways.
‘Of course,’ Elvira said, throwing a quick affectionate smile at her brother. ‘Mum and Dad let him stay at home and take me to and from school—it set me up for years. All my friends thought he was the coolest thing ever. They all hero-worshipped him and everyone wanted to come to my house in case he was there.’
‘Then I guess I made the right call,’ Marcus said.
‘Well, that’s what we thought,’ Louise said. ‘Which is why we squared it with your very irate head of house.’
‘I didn’t know you did that.’
Marcus looked surprised, and Louise smiled at him—a smile that April sensed held an undercurrent of sadness.
Then, as if she’d felt April’s gaze, Louise stood up. ‘If we’re ready, let’s head in to dinner.’
Dinner was amazing—the food melt-in-the-mouth incredible. Conversation flowed, orchestrated by Louise and Bill. Topics ranged from politics to business to the nitty-gritty of Elvira’s university course.
Marcus played his part—a
nd yet there was something April couldn’t put her finger on. It was almost as if Marcus was effacing himself from the conversation.
‘This is an amazing house,’ April said. ‘Did you grow up here?’
‘No,’ Elvira chipped in. ‘We grew up in town—it’s where I live now. We converted it into a student house when Mum and Dad moved here a couple of years ago. Marcus gave them this house.’
Marcus frowned, and April knew he hadn’t wanted his sister to divulge that fact.
‘Time for dessert,’ Louise said.
‘Can I help?’ April offered.
‘That would be lovely,’ the older woman agreed.
Marcus’s frown deepened into a scowl.
April couldn’t help it—she grinned down at him as they left. ‘Don’t look so grumpy, Marcus. I’m sure Louise has nothing but good things to share about you.’
Before he could answer she hotfooted it after Louise into a typical country kitchen where she felt instantly at home. Louise opened the fridge and pulled out the most decadent chocolate cake April had ever seen.
‘Vegan—so it’s dairy-free,’ Louise said.
‘Thank you.’ A pang of guilt shot through April. ‘I am so sorry to put you to so much trouble.’
‘It’s no trouble.’
Louise extracted a bowl of raspberries and closed the fridge door.
‘We didn’t want to accept the house,’ she said suddenly. ‘We knew it was Marcus’s way of paying us back and we didn’t want that. We never wanted him to feel in our debt, but I know he did. In the end we agreed to take it because it meant so much to him that we did. And because he chose a house he knew I’d always loved. Goodness knows how he persuaded the previous owner to sell, or how much he had to pay for it...’ She shrugged. ‘I guess I wanted you to know that we aren’t after his money.’
‘I wouldn’t have thought that.’
‘Good. So, is there anything else you want to ask me? I can tell you exactly how proud we are of Marcus—of his achievements and his sheer courage and grit. He worked so very hard to catch up on his education—didn’t give up even when he realised how far behind he was. And the way he was with Elvira...it was heartbreaking. He looked after her with a gentleness and a love I can’t describe. He was and is an amazing brother.’
Louise handed April a stack of plates.
April wanted to ask so much more but restrained herself—she knew that Marcus would loathe the idea that they were discussing him, and yet this was her opportunity to discover more about the man she might have made a baby with. The temptation was great but before she could say another word the door opened and Marcus came in. ‘Sorry to interrupt—’
‘No, you aren’t,’ Louise said. ‘But don’t worry, Marcus, I haven’t said anything you wouldn’t like. And now it’s time for dessert.’
Two pieces of cake and a cup of tea later, April thanked Louise and Bill for the meal.
‘I’m glad it was all right. I was surprised at how many of my usual dishes include dairy. I’d love it if you could share some dairy-free recipes with me.’
April blinked. Her mind was a complete blank; not a single dairy-free idea could she come up with. Did pasta contain milk?
‘Of course. I’ll get your email address from Marcus.’
‘Thank you.’
But there was a small frown on Louise’s face as she turned to Marcus to say goodbye.
‘Take care, both of you.’
‘We will. Thank you again.’
April felt a ridiculous pang as she walked towards the car; in all probability she would never see Louise and Bill again. For an insane moment, as the car glided through the midnight-blue darkness, an absurd fantasy filled her mind and she drifted between waking and sleep. Her and Marcus...a couple...herself with a baby in her arms... Louise and Bill looking on... In-laws who liked her...believed in her... Marcus with his arm around her as he gazed down at the tiny precious bundle in her arms.
And then the image faded and changed, and instead she saw herself with Edward as he took his first tottering step...fast-forwarded to weeks later and the police on the doorstep, telling her that Edward was dead...gone...at rest for ever.
April sat bolt-upright with a small cry and instantly Marcus scooted across the seat, his warm bulk next to hers.
‘April?’
She blinked. ‘I’m fine.’
Oddly enough, she was—after all, those half-dreams had shown her that her decision was right. Tragedy had touched her life irrevocably and she would be tainted for ever. Another baby was an impossible mirage.
‘I liked your parents.’
His face was slightly averted, and for a moment he said nothing. Then, ‘I’m glad. They are good people.’
‘They are clearly very proud of you.’
More silence, though she would swear he had puffed out the smallest ‘pah’.
‘Why do I get the impression you don’t believe that?’
‘I don’t know.’
Relief vibrated from him as the car pulled to a stop outside his apartment, but her eyes narrowed in determination—he was not going to escape that easily. Louise and Bill were proud of him.
Once inside the lounge, she resumed. ‘You do know they are proud of you, right?’
Discomfort etched his features as he thrust his hands into his pockets. ‘April, drop this, OK? I know Louise and Bill are pleased I’ve done well in life.’
‘But that’s different from knowing they’re proud of you—not because you’ve made lots of money but because you’re the person you are.’
‘And I owe them a huge debt. One I will do my best to pay back.’
‘How? With money?’
‘How else? They paid for my education, fed me, clothed me, gave me the means to make my wealth.’
‘They are your parents—they love you; they don’t want your money.’ She put her hands on her hips. ‘Is this the type of parent you plan to be? Will you be keeping track of every penny you spend and expecting it to be paid back with interest?’
‘No! Of course not. That’s different.’
‘How?’
‘I was twelve when Elvira and I were adopted. Elvira was only four. Louise and Bill had never planned to adopt an older child—they wanted a little one. They fell for Elvira and decided out of the goodness of their hearts to take me as well. For Elvira’s sake. The social workers couldn’t believe it—and neither could I. As I told you, they’re good people. So, yes, I do owe them a debt.’
For a moment April wondered how it must have felt to that twelve-year-old boy—to have been taken in out of charity rather than love. And then she remembered Louise’s expression when she’d described the bond between Marcus and his sister.
‘Perhaps they didn’t intend to adopt an older child, but that doesn’t mean they took you just for Elvira’s sake. Maybe they took you for both your sakes. Whatever their motivation, they grew to love you.’
‘You don’t have to try to make me feel good about this, April. Love doesn’t come into it—their charitable action allowed me to be part of Elvira’s life. I didn’t expect anything more from them.’
‘Didn’t expect or couldn’t accept?’ The question fell from her lips without permission from her brain, and his brows pulled together in a glower.
‘Meaning...?’
‘Meaning that they love you and you seem to be having difficulty accepting that.’
‘Spare me, please. You’ve spent a few hours over a dinner table with them—that does not endow you with the ability to judge their emotional state. Eighteen years ago I was a street kid. I was illiterate, foul-mouthed, and my greatest talent was my ability to fight dirty. Really, I was not loveable, and no one in their right mind would have taken me in.’
‘But you turned yourself around—surely you see how amazing that is?’
/> Only he didn’t—she could see that in the stubborn jut of his jaw, in the darkness of his expression as he looked back into the past and saw something that she couldn’t.
Without thought she moved closer to him, wanting to make him listen to her, force him to acquiesce to what was so obvious to her.
‘Marcus...’
‘Drop it, April. You got what you wanted. To meet Louise and Bill. There is absolutely no need for your pseudo-psychology.’
April halted in her tracks; the words made her flinch.
‘Or if you do feel the need perhaps you should aim the spotlight at yourself. You are the one who wants to give up a baby—your own flesh and blood. Maybe you need me to fall in with all this for yourself, so that you can believe all adoption stories have a happy ending.’
For a moment her feet wanted to move backwards, but she forced herself to remain where she was. Because despite the harshness of his words she recognised that he had a right to say them—that they weren’t the kind of put-down that Dean had delighted in. They were the barbs of a man in pain himself.
‘You are entitled to that opinion,’ she said quietly. ‘But it isn’t pseudo-psychology to recognise genuine love. You can deny it as much as you like, but your parents love you because you deserve to be loved. And, whether you believe me or not, if I am pregnant I will love this baby more than you can imagine.’
He raised his hand as if to reach out for her, and now she did step backwards.
‘I’m heading to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
EVER SINCE THEIR catastrophic conversation following the disastrous dinner April had avoided him. They met briefly over breakfast and dinner, when they uttered inane civilities, but she remained aloof, hidden behind a veneer of politeness and cool indifference—and Marcus couldn’t blame her. He’d behaved like the proverbial horse’s backside. Worse, he was too much of a coward even to apologise, in case it sparked another catastrophic conversation.
But things couldn’t go on like this. The week was very nearly over and April looked exhausted—so he’d decided today would be different.
Marcus looked at the breakfast he had laid out on the table and waited as he heard April’s footsteps approach. She pushed the door open and then checked on the threshold, looking from him to the table. Surprise raised her brows.