The Lost Daughters: A moving saga of womanhood

by Whitmee, Jeanne

  ‘What you’re saying isn’t entirely new,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ve heard it all before — from my mother. Years ago he treated her in much the same way. She always said that he put all his emotional energy into his music. There was never anything left over for relationships. When they were first married they were very poor. They lived on her money — the allowance she got from her parents. Once he didn’t need it any more…’ He lifted his shoulders helplessly. ‘She never really got over the way he treated her. Because of it she never married again.’ He sighed wistfully. ‘All the same, I’d still like to have known him. You only have one father.’

  ‘I know.’ Rosalind sighed. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s none of my business really. It’s just that Cathy is my friend and I know it hurt her to have to pretend to you. She’s a very honest person.’

  He sighed. ‘Do you think that was the reason she brushed me off?’

  ‘I’m sure it was. She didn’t want to disillusion you.’

  ‘So … ’ He looked at her with new hope in his eyes. ‘So you’re saying that if I … ’

  ‘I’m not saying anything, Paul. I’ve absolutely no right to. I just wanted to put right the misunderstanding between you, that’s all. What you do about it now is up to you.’

  She turned over and punched her pillow. She hoped to heaven she’d done the right thing. But even if she hadn’t it was too late to change anything now.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  ‘We could do gourmet dinners in the winter months,’ Rosalind said. ‘I learned some very good recipes from the chef at the Queen’s Head when I was there. That reminds me, do you think we could afford to keep Maggie on to help us? Oh, and I thought we might make a special arrangement with the boatmen on the quay to run trips out to the point to see the seal colony. You know, a reduced rate for parties. Now … ’ She placed a piece of paper on the table between them. ‘I’ve made a list of the best magazines and papers to advertise in. Look.’ She pointed. ‘These at the bottom are the ones that specialise in conference venues.’

  ‘Hang on!’ Matthew raised a hand to stop her flow of excited chatter. ‘There are a few other things to sort out before we get to that stage!’ he told her with a rueful smile. ‘Boring little legal details for instance.’

  The three of them were seated around Johnny’s dining table, making plans for the future of Cuckoo Lodge. Rosalind’s excitement was infectious. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes shone with enthusiasm as she looked from one to the other.

  ‘Oh, I know all that,’ she said impatiently. ‘But I don’t think either of you realises that this is my dream that is coming true. I’ve got a perfect right to be excited!’

  Matthew reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. ‘Of course you have. It’s just that there are a few hurdles to be got over first.’

  They had already established that the money Rosalind had received from the sale of the cottage, plus what Cathy had got from the sale of her emerald engagement ring, would be enough to pay off Gerald’s creditors. Matthew had made an appointment to see Gerald’s solicitor and arrange for the settlement of outstanding debts. But he had yet to draw up a satisfactory legal partnership for them both to sign.

  ‘The one disadvantage of not needing a bank loan,’ Matthew said thoughtfully, ‘is that a bank manager would vet your business proposal and know whether it covered everything. I’m not sufficiently experienced in business matters, especially the hotel trade, to say. Is there anyone who’s experienced in the trade who’d have a look at your figures and give you advice?’

  The girls were silent for a moment, then Cathy looked up. ‘What about Mrs Gresham at the Queen’s Head?’

  Rosalind’s eyes brightened. ‘Of course! Why didn’t I think of her? Shall we go along this afternoon and see her, Cathy?’

  ‘Of course.’ She got up from the table. ‘I’ll go and give her a ring now and make an appointment.’

  Mrs Gresham turned out to be just what they needed. She brought up several items the girls hadn’t thought of, but applauded them on their enterprise and seemed optimistic for its success. Rosalind’s business plan impressed her too.

  ‘I’m glad to see that you learned something useful while you were with us,’ she said with a smile. ‘I only wish you could have stayed on to take over from me when I retire in a couple of years’ time.’

  On the way home Rosalind decided that at least one of them should learn to drive. ‘We’ll get a ticket for one of those cash and carry places and get our supplies cheaper than we could at the shops,’ she said. ‘But the nearest one is bound to be miles away so we’ll be missing out if we don’t drive.’

  Cathy smiled to herself. The change in Rosalind since they’d begun to plan their new partnership was incredible. For the first time in her life she found herself required to act as a steadying influence, constantly pulling Rosalind up and making her take things one step at a time. Sometimes it was a bit like riding a runaway horse. ‘Can we afford to buy a car though?’ she asked cautiously.

  ‘We can’t afford not to!’ Rosalind retorted. ‘And for that we will need a bank loan, but that shouldn’t be a problem. Oh, it’s all so exciting. I can’t wait to get started.’

  ‘Me neither,’ Cathy agreed. ‘I thought we might put the first advertisement in next week and if we ask Matthew very nicely perhaps he’ll give us some driving lessons?’

  They parted when they got to Rosalind’s bus stop and Cathy walked the rest of the way home to Chestnut Grove, her mind busy with plans. The small front gardens in the Grove were bursting with promise. Daffodil bulbs were thrusting their spears above the ground and here and there yellow and purple crocuses flaunted their brightness. They seemed to Cathy to symbolise a new beginning.

  As she turned in at the gate her thoughts were of Rosalind’s idea that they should buy a car. She remembered how much she had longed to learn to drive at Melfordleigh and wondered how long it would take to learn. She let herself into the house and hung up her coat in the hall. From the living room came the muted buzz of voices. Johnny hadn’t mentioned that she was expecting a visitor and she wondered vaguely who it could be. So when she opened the door and saw Paul sitting in the chair by the fireplace her heart gave a lurch. He stood up when she came in.

  ‘Hello, Cathy.’

  ‘Paul! Hello.’ Her heart had begun to beat unevenly and she felt the colour warm her cheeks. She’d thought when they left Melfordleigh that she wouldn’t see him again. Part of her had ached with sadness at the thought while another part had told her firmly that it was best to forget him.

  Acutely aware of the tense atmosphere, Johnny got up from her chair. ‘Ah, there you are then. Doctor Franklin has been waiting for almost an hour, Cathy.’ She looked uncertainly from one to the other. ‘Well — I’ll leave you to talk.’ She moved to the door. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I should be getting the meal started.’

  ‘Of course. Thank you for letting me wait, Mrs Johnson,’ Paul said politely.

  As the door closed Cathy looked at him. ‘Is there something I can do for you, Paul?’ she asked coolly. She was annoyed — with herself for showing her vulnerability and with him for coming here uninvited.

  ‘I had to come — whether you wanted me to or not.’ His voice was low and harsh as he looked into her eyes. ‘Rosalind told me the way it was between you and Gerald. On the drive home from Melfordleigh.’

  ‘She told you? I don’t … ’

  ‘Cathy — why didn’t you tell me? I always knew he wasn’t good at relationships. I never had any illusions about what he was like. God knows my mother went on enough about the way he used people. But I always secretly thought it might have been partly her fault. I thought in your case he might have been different.’

  Cathy was shaking her head incredulously. ‘Rosalind told you? I can’t believe it!’

  ‘Yes. Look, don’t be angry with her. She did it for you. She knew you’d never tell me yourself.’

  ‘She had no r
ight.’ Cathy turned away. ‘I didn’t tell you because it was none of your business. Besides, I didn’t want to spoil your image of the ideal father.’

  ‘I didn’t have one. Not in that sense.’

  Cathy turned back to look at him, wondering just how much he really knew. ‘Rosalind shouldn’t have said anything.’

  ‘I’m very glad she did. I understand now why you were so cool. The important thing is that it’s all cleared up. We can be friends now, without any misunderstandings.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Cathy, now that all that is out in the open, can we see each other again? After all, there’s no reason why not.’

  ‘I’m going to be very busy with organising the new business,’ she hedged. ‘I really don’t know. Besides, you will be busy too and

  ‘Cathy!' He took a step towards her. ‘Listen. I’m not taking no for an answer any more.’

  ‘Just — just how much did Rosalind tell you?’

  ‘That you and Gerald weren’t happy. That he shut you out of his life and was planning to divorce you. She told me about the letters you found too; about the affair Gerald had with your mother all those years ago.’ He took a step towards her, his arms outstretched. ‘What a terrible shock that must have been for you. I’m so sorry, Cathy.’

  It was no use. Now that he knew half the truth she would have to tell him everything. There was no other way. She stepped back from his outstretched arms. ‘Yes, it was, but there’s more than that, Paul, much more, and you’d better know all of it.’ She turned away, afraid to see the look on his face when she told him the whole truth.

  ‘She told you that Gerald shut me out of his life — rejected me. Did she tell you how his rejection destroyed me?’ she asked quietly. ‘Did she tell you that I turned to someone else — another man — because of it? That I would have had his child if I hadn’t — hadn’t … ’

  ‘Cathy! What are you saying?’

  ‘I was so lonely,’’ she told him, struggling to control her voice. ‘So lonely and so unloved — unwanted. I felt it had to be my fault — that there must be something terribly wrong with me to make him so indifferent. So — when someone came along and — treated me like a woman it was like coming alive again. I … ’ She shook her head. ‘I gave in. I was so weak and feeble that I allowed myself to be taken in by insincere flattery and lies. When I found I was pregnant I didn’t know what to do. I wanted the baby more than anything in the world, yet I knew I couldn’t have it.’ Her voice choked on the words. She was crying now, tears coursing down her cheeks to drip unheeded from her chin. ‘I had to abort my child, Paul, to keep my infidelity from Gerald. Can you imagine what that did to me? Especially when I found that he had actually encouraged the affair to keep me quiet and occupied — as though I were some bothersome, fractious child in need of amusement. Since he died I’ve discovered that I made the sacrifice for nothing. Gerald only married me to gain control of the money my father left me. He never cared anything for me at all.’

  Fora long moment there was silence. She longed to escape from the room without having to see his reaction, but it was as though she was rooted to the floor. She stood staring out of the window, noticing small insignificant things like the tiny buds on the lilac tree; a bird pecking at some unseen insects on the lawn; a solitary dry brown leaf, a relic from last summer — a dead past. Then she felt his hands on her shoulders as he gently turned her towards him.

  ‘Cathy, what can I say? I had no idea you’d gone through this — this terrible trauma.’

  She couldn’t look at him but kept her head down. ‘Well, now you know all about me and why I tried to save you the disillusionment of finding out. People are seldom what they seem are they? If you want to go now and forget we ever met, I’ll understand.’

  ‘Go? What are you saying? What do you take me for, Cathy? Now that you’ve trusted me with this confidence, leaving you is the last thing I want to do. Do you think I don’t know what it must have cost you to tell me all that? To relive it?’

  For the first time she looked up and searched his eyes. She saw compassion and understanding there. No trace of blame or reproach.

  ‘Now I’m going to tell you something,’ he said with a smile. ‘When I first saw you at the memorial service I was completely stunned. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. I thought you were the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen and I spent most of the time trying to work out some way I could find out who you were — how I could get to speak to you. I’d just decided it was hopeless when you fainted in all that crush and I saw an opportunity to help, I just couldn’t believe my luck. It was as though fate had stepped in. Don’t you see, Cathy? The way I felt then had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you were Gerald’s wife. Nothing to do with the fact that he was my father. And nothing has changed. Anything that happened in the past to either of us is totally irrelevant. All I care about is that we’re here, you and me. Together. I want to try and make up for what you’ve been through, Cathy. Will you let me?’

  ‘Why should you want to?’

  ‘Why? Do I really have to tell you why?’ Reaching out he took her face very firmly in both hands and raised it towards him, kissing her gently. ‘Does that tell you anything about why?’

  The kiss told Cathy a lot of things. It told her that she was fighting a losing battle; that his touch and the feel of his lips on hers meant more than she could ever have imagined it would. When Gerald died she had told herself she would never trust enough to give her love to another man but she hadn’t bargained for the tumult that Paul aroused in her. The pounding of her heart and the clamour of her senses.

  ‘You know I’m going away,’ she said breathlessly. ‘To live and work in Melfordleigh with Rosalind.’

  He laughed. ‘It’s hardly a million miles away. I’ll come down — at every possible opportunity — even if it’s only for a couple of hours. I want to spend time with you, Cathy. I want us to have time to discover each other. And I’m warning you, I won’t be turned away. I won’t take no for an answer, because I know deep down that we can have something good together.’ He drew her closer and kissed her again, this time with all the depth and passion he had held at bay. She felt the tension seep out of her as she relaxed in his arms. She allowed herself the luxury of response, her lips parting for him, her arms holding him close, her fingers in his hair. It was like coming home; like a long cool drink after the heat of the day. His arms were warm and safe. In that moment nothing else seemed to matter. Yet even in her response a warning voice somewhere deep inside told her to take care. Hearts were so easy to break and so hard to mend and hers seemed especially fragile.

  ‘I’ll come to Melfordleigh as often as I can,’ he whispered. ‘Will you like that? Will you look forward to seeing me?’ ‘Yes. Of course I will.’

  ‘Cathy … ’ He looked into her eyes. ‘Cathy, I … ’

  ‘No.’ She stopped him from completing the sentence, her fingers against his lips. ‘Don’t say it. We have a long way to go yet before either of us can say that.’

  ‘Why?’ He took her fingers from his lips and held them against his cheek. ‘When can I say it?’

  ‘I don’t know. One day perhaps. When we’re both sure beyond a shadow of a doubt.’

  ‘I am now.’

  ‘No. Not yet. It’s just a word, Paul, too easy to say and too hard to live up to. It’s important to me to wait.’

  *

  By April Cuckoo Lodge had had its first Bank Holiday weekend, for which, thanks to a brief spell of beautiful weather and a sudden rush of visitors, all their rooms had been full. It had been slightly nerve-racking. Would anything go wrong? Would their visitors be comfortable and satisfied that they were getting good value? They needn’t have worried. With Maggie’s placid good sense and capability in the kitchen, they pulled through. Everyone went home happily and after that it was plain sailing. The landlord of the Admiral Nelson sent along any customers who enquired about good accommodation and by the beginning of June they had fallen into a comf
ortable and happy working routine.

  Matthew, now settled in the new legal practice in Ipswich, was a regular weekend guest, sleeping good-naturedly on any camp bed or settee that happened to be available. Paul too made regular, sometimes unheralded, appearances whenever he could snatch some time off, driving down in the middle-aged Ford Consul he had bought.

  Rosalind’s enthusiasm knew no bounds. She was full of plans for the future. She suggested that when they’d saved enough they might build an annexe so that they could take more visitors.

  ‘The reception rooms are big enough to take more,’ she pointed out. The dining room could take at least three more tables. And it’s just as easy to cook for twenty as ten so why not?’

  ‘Before we think of building annexes we could probably convert the attics into a couple more rooms,’ Cathy said practically. ‘It might be worth getting a builder in to look at them.’

  Rosalind’s plans for expansion included turning the larger of the two studios, now vacated by Gerald’s grand piano, into a restaurant for non-residents with a carvery and salad bar. She was arranging to apply for a licence to serve alcohol too. Her energy often left Cathy breathless. She had never seen her friend happier or more fulfilled. And she guessed that Cuckoo Lodge was only partly responsible for the transformation. She felt sure it was only a matter of time before Rosalind and Matthew would announce their engagement.

  One weekend in late June Paul managed three whole days off. The weather was glorious and after dinner on his first evening he and Cathy walked down to the quay together. The sea was smooth and glassy with only the merest swell to sway the boats moored in the harbour. Above them the cloudless sky was a serene, milky blue and the air was clear and tangy.

  Paul took a deep breath. ‘Ah — that’s so good after London,’ he said. ‘I take back all I said about your weather. Nothing to touch a perfect English summer evening.’ He looked at Cathy. ‘It’s great to be here like this. I miss you,’ he said softly, taking her hand. ‘A whole lot more than you realise. I miss your amazing hair and those green eyes; your laugh and the way your mouth curves. Sometimes I think I must be mad to stay up there away from you.’