“Absolutely. No more tears. See?” Quinn gave Emma a brilliant smile. “I have a very important assignment for you today.”
“What?”
Quinn took a stack of birthday invitations from the drawer and showed them to Emma. “I will put these in your backpack, and you will hand them out when you get to school. Can you do that?”
“But I can’t read,” Emma protested. “How will I know whose invitation is whose?”
“All the invitations are exactly the same, so it doesn’t matter who gets which envelope. Are you up to the task, Miss Russell?”
“Yes!”
“Excellent. Now, finish your breakfast and go get dressed. Your clothes are on the chair. I just need to speak to Daddy for a moment.”
“Promise you won’t cry?” Emma asked as she slid off her chair.
“Promise.”
“How are you? Really?” Gabe asked as he wrapped Quinn in his arms and gave her a lingering kiss.
“I’m all right. Really.”
“Quinn, about Sylvia…”
Quinn held up her hand. “Nothing to worry about.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“Well, you should. I’ve had a moment of perfect clarity,” she announced, still smiling.
“I’m almost afraid to ask.”
Quinn took a seat at the table and reached for one of Emma’s leftover strips of toast. “Any chance of a cup of tea?”
“Of course.” Gabe poured her a cup of tea and added a splash of milk. She could see the tension in his shoulders and the worried look in his eyes, and her heart turned over. She was so blessed to have a husband who loved her so much and worried about her well-being. Gabe was the only person, besides her parents, whom she’d trust with her life, and the realization overwhelmed her with gratitude.
‘I love you,” Quinn said simply.
“And I love you, but I’m still waiting to hear about this earth-shattering revelation,” Gabe replied with a warm smile.
“When I asked Sylvia why she didn’t want me, she said she gave me away because she couldn’t love me,” Quinn explained. “I was devastated by her answer, but also grateful for her honesty. It’d have made it worse if she’d said she wanted me desperately but couldn’t find a way to make it work. I’d have felt like I missed out on a lifetime with my mother.”
“Yes, I can see that. But how is this relevant?”
“What I realized just now is that the sentiment is not one-sided. I don’t want Sylvia because I can’t love her. You were absolutely right about her, Gabe. I built up my birth mother in my mind, imagining her to be this perfect woman, but in truth, Sylvia is someone I’d never choose to know had she not given birth to me. I don’t trust her, and, let’s be brutally honest here, I don’t even like her. Just because I now know her doesn’t mean I have to maintain a relationship with her or allow her to be a part of my life.”
“So, what are you saying? Are you severing ties with her?”
Quinn shook her head. “No, not yet. I will speak to her about what I’ve learned, and if what the Reverend Seaton said is true, I will look for my sister. But I will no longer allow Sylvia to hurt me, nor will I permit her the chance to be my mother, or a grandmother to my children. She’s lied to me once too often. Sylvia Wyatt can just be someone I know. Period.”
“That’s quite a turnaround from yesterday,” Gabe said, watching Quinn. “What brought this on?”
“Perhaps I’m starting to think more like a mother and a wife and less like a single woman. Sylvia is not a priority for me any longer—you and the children are.” Quinn laid a hand on her belly, smiling as it shifted beneath her hand. “I will not do anything to endanger this baby, or myself. I will approach this new hurdle like a work project rather than a personal quest.”
“Who are you, and what have you done with my wife?” Gabe joked. “I’m glad to hear you see sense. That is the best possible attitude I could have hoped for. Will it last?” he asked carefully.
“I think so.”
“What are you not telling me?” Gabe asked as he took a seat across from Quinn and sipped his coffee.
“I want it to be a coincidence, Gabe. I don’t want that baby to be my sister.”
“Really?”
“Gabe, you know how badly I wanted to know my parents and my siblings, but so far, meeting them has been a great disappointment. Sylvia is as wily as a fox. Seth is a good man, but, on some level, he’ll always be a stranger to me, and my brothers have been a revelation, to say the least. If I truly have a twin sister, God only knows what she’s like. Just because we shared a womb doesn’t mean we have anything in common or will even like each other.”
“You’re afraid to get your hopes up.”
“I suppose you could say that. Finding my twin, if that’s who she is, would really prove to be an interesting case study for nature versus nurture. Would we be similar because of our genetics, or would we be polar opposites because we grew up in completely different families and circumstances?”
“There’s only one way to find the answer to that question, and I think that perhaps you should wait until after baby Russell is born to start looking for it.”
Quinn nodded. “I think you’re right, but in the meantime, I can start doing the legwork, and the first port of call is Sylvia.”
“I’m coming with you,” Gabe said.
“Gabe, I love that you want to protect me, but this is something I must do on my own. I promise you I will remain cool, calm, and detached. Like I said, I’m done allowing Sylvia to hurt me.”
“All right. But ring me, should you need moral support.”
“You know I will.”
Chapter 30
Quinn wasn’t as calm as she’d hoped to be when she finally rang Sylvia later that morning. Her resolution not to allow Sylvia to hurt her anymore made her feel stronger, but the very topic she was about to broach made her heart beat faster. Could Reverend Seaton have arrived at the conclusion that Quinn and Quentin were twins without sufficient evidence? Surely, babies were abandoned every day, and it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that they’d be wrapped in a blanket with some sort of message from the mother. The case worker might have been mistaken about the similarity in handwriting, couldn’t she? Quinn and Sylvia had spoken repeatedly about past events, and not once had Sylvia alluded to a second baby. No, it had to be a mistake and she was condemning Sylvia based on nothing but circumstantial evidence. A part of Quinn wished the conversation with Reverend Seaton had never taken place, but now that she knew about Quentin she had to find out the truth. Once she had her answer, she’d make a decision about Sylvia.
Quinn tried to sound normal when Sylvia picked up.
“Well, hello there, stranger,” Sylvia said. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m well, thank you. I was wondering if you might like to come for lunch today, Sylvia. It’s been some time since we saw each other.”
“That would be lovely. Can I bring anything?”
Just some truth serum, Quinn thought bitterly. “No, just yourself. Would sandwiches be all right? I’m not much in the mood for cooking.”
“Of course. I’ll bring something for pudding.”
“Let me guess; Rhys has been plying you with baked goods,” Quinn joked.
“Actually, I haven’t seen him recently. But more about that later. I’ll see you around noon?”
“Great.”
Quinn rang off and stared at her phone, thinking. She would conduct her own research, regardless of what Sylvia said. There was no reason to expect Sylvia to be honest with her, and she needed to be sure that she knew the truth of the situation before making any decisions. Quinn found Reverend Seaton’s contact information and called the number.
“Reverend, it’s Quinn Allenby,” she began. “I’m sorry to disturb you.”
“Not at all. Not at all, dear. I’m so glad you called. Please allow me to apologize once again. I was unforgivably tactless yesterday. I do ho
pe you weren’t too upset.”
“I was a bit, but I’m all right now. I’d just like to ask you a few questions, if you don’t mind.”
“It’s the least I can do.”
“Do you recall the name of the case worker who came to collect me?” Quinn listened to the silence on the other end as Reverend Seaton considered the question.
“It was thirty years ago,” he finally said. “I can’t recall her name, but I know someone who would be able to. My wife, God bless her, has the memory of an elephant. I’ll call her right now and ask. Can I ring you back?”
“Of course. You can even text it to me, if you prefer.”
“I’m afraid I’m not that technologically advanced. I’m still old school, and prefer to speak to people in person.”
“I’ll wait for your call then.”
Quinn disconnected the call and went to take a shower. After hearing back from Reverend Seaton, she’d go to the shops and pick up the ingredients for the sandwiches and something to make for dinner. She owed Gabe and Emma a home-cooked meal, and she was in the mood for pasta primavera. It was delicious, and a sneaky way to get Emma to eat her vegetables.
Quinn was toweling her hair dry when her mobile rang. Reverend Seaton.
“That was quick,” she said by way of greeting. “Any luck?”
“If anyone would be able to remember, it’d be my Abigail. The case worker’s name was Hetty Marks. Lovely lady, as I recall. I hope you’ll be able to track her down.”
“Thank you, Reverend. I hope so too. I just have one more question,” Quinn said, wondering if what she was about to ask would make any difference to the outcome.
“Of course.”
“Was it you or Ms. Marks who made the assumption that we were twins?”
“It was Ms. Marks. Why does that matter?” the reverend asked.
“It matters because Ms. Marks saw us both and also saw the notes. If she surmised that we were twins, her assumption would be based on that.”
“Whereas mine would have been nothing more than supposition,” Reverend Seaton concluded.
“Well, yes.”
“I don’t think Hetty Marks was the type of woman to jump to unsupported conclusions. Very no-nonsense, she was—a real brick, as we used to call girls like her in my day. I’d be surprised if she got it wrong. Anyway, I wish you luck with your search, Quinn. Ring me if you need anything else, dear,” the reverend said before hanging up.
Quinn sighed. The conversation with Reverend Season had given her a valuable lead, but it also undermined her resolve to give Sylvia a fair chance. Regardless of what Sylvia said, Quinn had to discover the truth for herself. She pushed aside the notepad with the case worker’s name on it and went to get dressed.
Sylvia arrived on time, bearing a box of lintzer tarts. “I had a terrible craving for sweets when I was pregnant,” Sylvia said as she followed Quinn into the kitchen. “Particularly with Jude. I thought the kid would come out begging for sticky toffee pudding.”
“Does he like sweets?” Quinn asked.
“Yes, he does, but he likes lager much more,” Sylvia replied. “I did not have that while pregnant.”
“I made some egg and cress and ham and tomato sandwiches, and a salad. I hope that’s all right,” Quinn added as she invited Sylvia to sit.
“Perfect. I’ll have one of each. Are you experiencing any cravings?” Sylvia asked as she helped herself to some salad.
“Yes, I’ve been craving eggs. Perhaps I’m not eating enough protein. I’ve had an aversion to meat these past few weeks.” Quinn reached for an egg and cress sandwich. “I do crave sweet things as well. I’m looking forward to those tarts.”
“They are to die for. Logan always brings me some when he pops by, which is not as often when things are going well with him and Colin. How’s Gabe? Has he found a job up north yet?” Sylvia asked, her tone carefully neutral.
“Not yet, but he’s looking.”
“I love your idea for Emma’s birthday party. Sounds like a blast. I never got to have such girlie themes, not having a daughter.” Sylvia looked sheepish when she realized how that statement had come out. “I didn’t mean to sound insensitive,” she added, stopping short of apologizing. She’d only spoken the truth, as she knew it, but the careless remark stung Quinn nonetheless.
“Quite all right.” Quinn looked across the kitchen table at Sylvia. She looked happy and relaxed as she helped herself to another sandwich. Even now that Sylvia knew Quinn, she obviously felt no regret about missing out on their time together, nor did she try particularly hard to forge ahead with their relationship. Sylvia had been the one to seek Quinn out, but Jude and Logan were her priority, and always would be.
Quinn experienced a sudden thunderbolt of blinding anger. She was tired of her British reserve. She was half-American after all, and Seth wouldn’t have minced words in a similar situation. He’d have come right out and confronted Sylvia head on, as would Quinn’s biological grandmother. She must have been quite a firecracker in her day. Quinn felt a pang of regret at not having had more time with Rae Besson, especially before the Alzheimer’s set in.
Quinn took a sip of water to steady her nerves and plunged in. Taking Sylvia completely by surprise was the only way to glean anything resembling the truth, and Quinn was no longer concerned with her feelings.
“By the way, Sylvia, when were you going to tell me I have a twin sister?”
Sylvia dropped her sandwich and paled visibly, confirming Quinn’s suspicion that Reverend Seaton and Hetty Marks had been correct. Sylvia reached for her glass of water and took a long sip before finally meeting Quinn’s gaze. “Quinn, I…” She faltered. “How on earth…?”
“Funny thing, that. I met a Reverend Seaton at the BBC offices yesterday. Quite a coincidence, as he was the very man who found me in that cathedral pew nearly thirty-one years ago. We got to talking, and he mentioned the other baby, the one that was left at the hospital on the same day with the same note. Quentin, was it? I see you have a fondness for Q names.”
“Quinn, I don’t know what to say.” Sylvia looked cornered and frightened, but Quinn wasn’t about to stop.
She felt a cool sense of detachment as she watched Sylvia, like an interrogator who’d do anything to extract information from a suspect. “How about you tell me the truth for a change? That would be very refreshing.”
“I have told you the truth,” Sylvia retorted. Angry spots of color bloomed in her cheeks, and her eyes glittered with resentment at having been caught out.
“Have you? Seems to me that you manipulated the facts to suit your own agenda, and that the men you accused of raping you remember a very different version of events. I suppose I should take your word over theirs, but they are very convincing, and have all proved to be more honest than you have been.”
“Quinn, you’re angry. I see that.” Sylvia’s placating tone only served to fuel Quinn’s fury.
“Damn right, I’m angry, Sylvia. Who you slept with when you were a teenager is your own personal business, but not to tell me about a twin sister is a lie of a magnitude that should get its very own category. I’d file it under V for vicious, or D for diabolical.”
“How about M, for misguided?”
“Sylvia, you’re many things, but misguided is not one of them. Are you going to tell me the truth, or are you stalling for time while you try to work out an acceptable version of events in your head?”
“Is this why you invited me here today?” Sylvia asked. Quinn felt the shift in her attitude; she was about to go on the offensive and act the victim.
“Yes, it is. I needed to hear it from you first, before I began my own investigation. Will you tell me, or do I need to find out for myself?”
Sylvia sat back and studied Quinn for a moment, almost as if she were deciding if it was worth the bother. She must have realized that their relationship, fragile as it had been, was now broken beyond repair. No matter what story she spun, Quinn had caught her in a lie that was
too big to explain away. Nothing Sylvia said could undo the damage, and no apology could ever soothe the hurt.
“Yes, Quinn, it’s true. I gave birth to twins that day. As I said before, I never received any antenatal care, as I never went to the clinic, so I didn’t know I was carrying twins until the midwife examined me during labor. I was shocked, I can tell you that. If dealing with one baby was terrifying, the thought of two sent me over the edge. I was seventeen, alone and scared.”
“You didn’t have to be alone. You had a father who loved you. And you could have gone through the proper adoption channels. The social workers would have helped you, and you would have had some say in who got your babies.”
“Hindsight is always twenty-twenty, isn’t it?” Sylvia replied. “I’m not proud of what I did, but there’s nothing I can do to change that now.”
“So, what happened?” Quinn demanded.
“You were born first. You were healthy and strong, but your sister, who was born twenty minutes later, wasn’t as lucky. The midwife thought the reason she was bluish and had trouble breathing was because the cord had been around her neck, but that wasn’t it. Even after an hour, she was still gasping for breath, and it was clear that something was terribly wrong. The midwife urged me to call an ambulance, but if I did that, all my careful planning and hiding would have been for nothing. Everyone would know I’d had children. So, I asked her to stay with you and took Quentin to the hospital. I put her down on a chair in a high-traffic area and pretended to go to the loo. Then I slipped out of the emergency waiting area and watched through the window. I waited until the baby was picked up by a passing nurse, who instantly summoned a doctor, then left. She was in good hands and would receive the care she needed. I returned to my room and took you to the cathedral in the morning. You know the rest.”
“What happened to her?” Quinn asked. She was shocked to the core by Sylvia’s matter-of-fact recital of the facts. Her first priority had been protecting herself rather than getting medical help for a struggling baby.
“I don’t know.” Sylvia shrugged in ignorance. “I never went back. I assume she got adopted, just like you did.”
The Forsaken (Echoes from the Past Book 4) Page 17