Stolen

by Susan Lewis

  ‘From the letter and its allusions to John,’ he continued, ‘it seems fairly certain that Lucy is …’

  ‘Alexandra,’ John broke in hoarsely. ‘Her name was Alexandra.’

  Unable even to imagine what he must be feeling, Michael tried to set aside his own emotions, but it was hard. He liked this man and respected him immensely. He’d also developed a very real fondness for Philippa, so it was impossible not to be affected by their reactions. More than that, though, was what he felt for Lucy, who meant far more to him than Carlotta ever had. What was all this going to mean for her? Right now it wasn’t possible to say, but what he could be certain of was that they all, John, Philippa and Lucy, were going to need his professional guidance. So, keeping his voice gentle and clear, he said, ‘The most sensible next step is to organise a DNA match.’ He waited for one or other of them to respond, but as their shock apparently deepened they remained silent. ‘I’ll need to make some calls,’ he continued, ‘but I’m pretty sure if we do it privately there’s a chance we could have the results within a day or two. I’m not sure of the cost …’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ Philippa told him. ‘Please, let’s just do it.’ Then, seeming only now to think of Lucy’s situation, she cried, ‘Oh my goodness, the poor girl. It must have been such a shock for her to receive this letter. Does she understand its implications? Do you think we should talk to her?’

  Touched by her concern, and feeling sure Lucy would be too, Michael said, ‘Why not let me speak to her again, and then we can decide what …’

  ‘I’m sorry, I can’t keep this from Rose,’ John interrupted, getting to his feet. ‘As Alexandra’s mother, she has a right to know what’s happening.’

  ‘You mean Rose Bancroft?’ Michael said, needing to hear it confirmed.

  ‘Yes, yes of course,’ John replied. ‘She’s up at the manor.’

  Finding himself suddenly overwhelmed again as he thought of his childhood friends and of Lucy, Michael could only look at Philippa as she said, ‘I’ll call and ask her to come.’

  When Rose arrived she was looking anxious and hesitant, but after receiving a reassuring look from John, she greeted Michael warmly before turning to Philippa.

  ‘Hello,’ she whispered cautiously.

  ‘Hello,’ Philippa responded, holding her gaze.

  Rose swallowed. This was the first time the two women had come face to face in over thirty years, yet neither was assessing how the other might have aged, they were thinking only of the man they both loved and the dear little girl they’d lost.

  Knowing how unlikely it was that Philippa had ever forgiven her, Rose tried to speak, but three decades of guilt were choking her.

  ‘It’s all right,’ John said softly, coming to put a hand on her shoulder.

  Rose glanced at him, then back to Pippa. ‘I … Are you …?’ she stumbled. ‘John told me …’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Philippa assured her.

  Rose nodded. ‘That’s good. I was … I wish I knew what to say to you. After what I did …’

  ‘Ssh,’ Philippa said, opening her arms. ‘Don’t say anything, just come here.’

  With a tortured sob of relief and despair Rose sank into Pippa’s embrace and held her close. ‘I thought … I was afraid you’d still hate me …’

  ‘Och, such nonsense,’ Philippa chided. ‘I never hated you, but I was angry, it’s true, and for a long time I wished that foolish brother of mine had developed more sense than he was born with.’

  Rose stood back to look at her. ‘I shouldn’t have let it happen,’ she said earnestly. ‘You must know I tried to stop him …’

  ‘Yes, I do, and I often wished you’d succeeded, but it’s all behind us now. We’re a lot older and hopefully a little wiser.’

  ‘Rose, my love,’ John said softly, reaching for her hand, ‘we have some news that we need to share with you. It’s about …’ He glanced at Michael. ‘It’s about …’

  Rose’s eyes darted between them.

  ‘Alexandra,’ John said.

  As the blood drained from Rose’s face, she sank down on the edge of a chair. Her voice was no more than a whisper as she said, ‘News?’

  ‘We think … Well, it seems we might have found her.’

  As Rose let out a cry of anguish she looked to Pippa, then Michael, before returning her bewildered, frightened eyes to John.

  ‘It’s true,’ he said gently. ‘We’ll show you the letter, but if it means what we think it does, then she’s here, in Cromstone.’ Since hearing this amazing news, having had a little time to register it, he was able to laugh incredulously. ‘Can you believe that? She’s actually here and I know her.’

  Rose’s eyes were wide with confusion as she looked at them all again.

  ‘Her name’s Lucy,’ Pippa told her. ‘I’m sure you’ll have heard Sarah speak about her.’

  Rose’s eyes returned to John, and as they filled with tears he gathered her tightly to him. ‘Did you know this when you picked me up today?’ she asked.

  ‘No, my love, I didn’t. I only found out a few minutes ago. Now you need to read the letter Michael brought with him.’

  As he went to fetch it Rose got to her feet, looking as though she might flee, but then she was holding the letter and reading words that began to turn her heart, her entire life, inside out.

  By the time she’d finished she was barely able to stand. ‘John, John,’ she cried, sinking to her knees. ‘It can’t be true. Someone’s playing a trick.’

  ‘Ssh, my darling, it’ll be all right,’ he said, going down with her.

  Rose turned imploring eyes to Philippa. ‘Is it true?’ she asked. ‘No, it can’t be.’

  ‘You read the letter,’ Philippa answered. ‘I don’t think there can be much doubt.’

  To John, Rose said, ‘I have to see her.’

  ‘Of course,’ he replied.

  ‘Let me call to find out if she’s back,’ Michael said, taking out his phone. Then realising why it wouldn’t be a good idea to see Lucy tonight, he put it away again. ‘She’ll have her daughter with her,’ he explained.

  ‘Her daughter,’ Rose broke in raggedly. ‘Oh John …’

  ‘She has a son as well,’ he told her, ‘who’s travelling around the world.’

  ‘Oh my goodness.’ Her hand went to her mouth. ‘So grown up.’ Then, to Michael, ‘You must tell us about them.’

  With a smile, Michael said, ‘John knows as much as I do – in fact, he and Philippa know Hanna a lot better.’

  ‘Hanna is your granddaughter,’ Philippa said fondly, ‘and you’re going to be very proud of her, Rose, typical teenager that she is. I know this because John and I love her to bits already.’

  Rose still seemed dazed, until suddenly her expression changed completely. ‘Oh my goodness,’ she gasped, turning to John. ‘How could I have forgotten about Sarah? We must call her straight away and tell her to come. We can’t wait till the weekend for the others. She has to be told now.’

  As Philippa went for the phone, Michael said, ‘I’ll leave you to that, but before I go I should probably take some DNA samples from the two of you. A few strands of hair will do, then, provided Lucy’s in agreement, I’ll arrange for it to be sent to the labs first thing tomorrow.’

  Much later that evening, after Hanna had gone up to her room, Lucy was sitting with Michael in the kitchen, listening quietly as his words not only tore apart the fabric of her life, but the very essence of who she was. Her parents were strangers, and more strangers had taken their place. She had a brother and a sister. She’d grown up in the wrong family. The wrong family. Everything was clattering around her like stones, hitting her, but then falling away.

  She tried to picture John and Rose, but reeled from it. She thought of her parents, and felt herself falling apart. The shock, the horror of it all, was too hard to grasp.

  ‘They wanted to come straight away,’ Michael was saying, ‘but I was concerned about Hanna …’

  ‘She does
n’t know anything yet,’ Lucy broke in, realising how little she knew herself. Yet it was enough to make her fearful of how she was going to go forward from here, and of how she would tell Hanna and Ben when, if, the time came. What was it going to be like for them finding out that their mother wasn’t who they thought she was, and that their grandparents … Oh dear God, how could they have deceived everyone like this? They couldn’t. It wasn’t in them. Yet apparently it was.

  Suddenly she didn’t want it to go on. She wanted life to return to the way she’d always known it.

  ‘It seems your real name is Alexandra,’ Michael told her softly.

  Though her initial instinct was to pull away, the tone of his voice was calming and as her eyes came up the name seemed to float through her like petals. Alexandra Mckenzie. She wondered what she’d have been like if she’d grown up with it. Would she have felt any differently about herself from the way she did now? Then she realised that of course she’d have been different, because she’d have been raised by parents who were wholly unlike those she’d known, in a family she … She had a family. Wasn’t it what she’d always wanted?

  No, a voice inside her was crying. She didn’t want a sister, or a brother. She wanted the parents she’d always known and loved.

  Yet how did she feel about them now?

  She swallowed hard and looked helplessly around the room. It felt as though someone might be watching from the shadows. The ghost of the real Lucy Fisher? Who was Alexandra? Did she even exist any more? ‘How much do you know already?’ she heard herself asking Michael.

  ‘Some, but not all.’

  ‘Do I need to be afraid? Did something terrible happen that I’ve blotted from …’

  ‘You have nothing to be afraid of,’ he assured her.

  ‘So what happened? How have I ended up here? Why didn’t I know any of this?’

  ‘I don’t know the whole story,’ he replied, ‘so it’s probably best for Rose and John to tell you rather than let me mislead you or get anything wrong.’

  Rose and John. Her parents. Inside she was still reeling. ‘Why aren’t they married?’ she asked. ‘Who’s Douglas? Sarah thinks he’s her father …’

  ‘He is,’ Michael broke in gently, ‘but I’m afraid I don’t know why Rose and John broke up. I only know that Rose married Douglas after she and John divorced.’

  ‘But why did they divorce?’

  Michael shook his head. ‘I’m sure they’ll tell you themselves,’ he replied.

  Lucy looked down at the drink he’d poured her, which she hadn’t yet touched. She was seeing John’s face in her mind, the way he frowned when he was thinking, and threw back his head when he laughed. Instead of resisting it this time she waited for something to happen inside, like a spark of recognition, or even a rejection, but nothing came. ‘He’s a lovely man,’ she said, feeling as though she should, and anyway it was true. ‘It never occurred to me that he … Oh my God, Michael,’ she suddenly sobbed, ‘how can I make this stop?’

  ‘Hey, hey,’ he said softly, reaching for her hands. ‘It’s bound to feel overwhelming, because it is.’

  Wiping away her tears, she picked up her drink and took a sip. The taste was bitter, metallic, nothing like the wine she was used to. She put the glass down again. ‘What’s going to happen about my parents?’ she asked. Then, remembering, ‘Can I still call them that?’

  ‘One step at a time,’ he advised. ‘We need to get the test results first, and …’

  ‘How long will it take?’

  ‘I’ll have to check, but hopefully not more than a day or two.’ Then, after a pause, ‘John and Rose would like to come and talk to you tomorrow.’

  Her eyes shot to his.

  ‘I think they feel that to wait would put you all through unnecessary strain, especially when there doesn’t seem much room for doubt.’

  ‘Isn’t there?’ she asked, wanting to push herself through the small, remaining chink that was closing so fast.

  He only looked at her.

  She tried again to make herself accept what was happening, but she couldn’t. ‘Hanna can’t be here when they come,’ she told him. ‘I can’t expect her to …’

  ‘Philippa’s already thought of that. She’s going to ask for some more guidance with the Wii Fit.’

  Lucy felt oddly disoriented as the new connection between Hanna and Philippa became apparent. ‘Philippa’s her great-aunt,’ she said, as though testing the words. Then, imagining how Hanna might take it, she said, ‘I think she’ll like that. She’s very fond of Philippa.’ But what about Brian and Daphne, the grandparents Hanna had grown up with? She put a hand to her head as it started to hurt. ‘What am I going to tell her?’ she said. ‘She loves them. So does Ben.’

  Michael frowned, unsure what she meant.

  ‘Brian and Daphne,’ she explained. ‘Oh God, how has this happened? It’s a nightmare. It can’t be real. They’d never do something like this.’ Except they clearly had, because her mother’s letter was more or less admitting it. ‘What’s going to happen to them?’ she cried. They deserved to be punished for this, to be made to rot in hell, yet how could she wish that on people she loved?

  ‘It’ll take a while to work out the right way to go forward,’ Michael said gently. ‘For now, I think you should try to get some sleep. You look exhausted, and you’ve got a pretty big day ahead of you tomorrow.’

  A day, Lucy was thinking, as he left, that she wanted never to dawn, because it was going to start tearing her away from everything she knew and believed in, when all she wanted was to hold on as tightly as she could. Except if everything he’d told her was true, there was nothing to hold on to any more.

  It wasn’t long after Hanna left to go to Philippa’s the next morning that Lucy saw Michael pulling up in his car. She’d asked him to come since she wasn’t sure she could face meeting Rose and John on her own. It wasn’t that she was viewing them as the enemy, exactly, but Rose was a stranger to her, and John was more than she’d realised, and it seemed they had a history together that she was a part of, but knew nothing about. It was making her feel vulnerable, at a disadvantage, even afraid she might disappoint them in some way. In truth, it was hard to know how she was feeling when her mind was flitting about like a bird too skittish to land.

  ‘Are you OK?’ Michael asked, his concern showing as he came into the kitchen.

  She gave a shaky sort of laugh. ‘I’m not sure,’ she said honestly.

  Coming to give her a hug, he said, ‘It’ll be fine. The samples have gone to the labs. Someone there will call my mobile as soon as they have the results.’

  Shuddering with the kind of nerves she’d never known existed until now, Lucy said, ‘You make it sound as though it might be today.’

  ‘That’s probably a little too soon, but don’t let’s rule it out, because the labs are always looking for funding and John wrote a cheque that should get you to the front of the queue.’

  Wondering how anxious John must be now, and Rose, Lucy found herself wanting to back away from it all again. ‘Wouldn’t it be better for us to get together once we know the results?’ she said. ‘I mean, if there is a mistake, if we’re reading this the wrong way, it could be a waste of their time.’

  ‘Do you think there has been a mistake?’ he asked gently.

  There has to have been, she wanted to shout. I can’t be one person one day and somebody else the next, and the parents I’ve always known are mine. ‘I’m not Alexandra Mckenzie,’ she told him. ‘The name doesn’t mean anything to me.’

  ‘You were very young when you were taken,’ he told her, ‘so it probably wouldn’t.’

  Taken? As in stolen? Feeling the madness of it bearing down on her again, she wanted only to escape it. ‘What about Simon?’ she heard herself ask. ‘If John’s his father why isn’t his name Mckenzie?’

  ‘They’re going to tell you everything when they get here.’

  As the words registered, her head started to spin. ‘Who – who
’s coming? Both of them?’

  ‘I believe so.’

  Feeling a cruel bolt of nerves tearing through her, she tensed hard to try and make herself stronger. ‘I don’t know why I’m so afraid,’ she said irritably. ‘It’s not as though they’re going to hurt me. Is it?’

  ‘No, they’re not going to do that.’

  Thinking of the woman Sarah had talked about, so loved and revered, and yet so fragile, it panicked Lucy again to realise that Alexandra was very probably the cause of the depressions and withdrawals that had blighted the childhoods of Sarah and her siblings. Would they blame her? Had this happened because of something she’d done?

  ‘Does Sarah know?’ she asked.

  ‘I believe they told her last night.’

  Lucy felt suddenly fearful of how she might have taken it. Had it been as devastating for her to find out that her father wasn’t her mother’s first husband, as it was proving for her, Lucy, to realise that her parents weren’t her own?

  ‘Do you think Sarah will come?’ she asked, not sure what she wanted the answer to be.

  ‘I think Rose is keen not to overwhelm you, so I expect it’ll be just her and John.’

  Was she pleased about that? She didn’t know. It showed a sensitivity that she could appreciate, because maybe having Sarah there would have made it harder, though she couldn’t say why. Maybe she needed to see Sarah on her own.

  ‘Remember you already know John,’ Michael said.

  She couldn’t deny that, but as a friend and neighbour, not as her father. Oh dear God, where were Brian and Daphne, what had happened to them? She turned around, wringing her hands, then turned back again. ‘I used to dream about this as a child,’ she said. ‘When I was angry with my parents – with … I used to long for someone else to come along and claim me as theirs. All children go through that, don’t they?’

  He appeared amused. ‘I was always convinced my real father played cricket for England.’

  Lucy laughed and to her surprise it seemed to release some of her tension. Then, hearing footsteps on the gravel, she turned towards the window and her insides dissolved into chaos. They were here. John was coming down the drive with a very elegant-looking lady dressed in a flowing black coat, with the hood up to protect her from the rain. The image made Lucy think fleetingly of the French Lieutenant’s Woman before she found herself wanting to run to her children and gather them up, because they were her family, her reality, and no one, nothing, could ever change that.