House of Christmas Secrets

by Lynda Stacey

  ‘I know.’ Jess’s simple response was quietly spoken. ‘I know he could be anyone, but do you know what, Jack? I really, really want him to be my father.’ She stepped nervously from foot to foot, and looked at the bedroom door behind which Lily now slept. She was fully aware that if Lily woke up, she’d be able to hear every single word. The child had been through enough and the last thing she needed to overhear was raised voices or to think she wasn’t welcome.

  ‘Jess, his story. It’s not great. He’s penniless, he’s homeless and he left London after Lily’s mum cleared out their flat and sold it all to buy heroin. He had only just enough money to get here, which seems a little odd, don’t you think?’ He paused. ‘He had absolutely no one else but you that he could turn to, and, what’s more, he seems to have an eight-year-old daughter who needs looking after.’ He took in a deep breath and stared at Jess. ‘You were his only option, Jess, his last resort. He had nowhere else to go, so he thought he’d come and find you, his daughter, twenty years too late. Twenty years after he should have first introduced himself to you as your father.’

  Jess fixed her stare on Jack’s face. His jawline looked more chiselled than she’d ever noticed before and it occurred to her that he was maturing more and more by the day. ‘Do you think I hadn’t worked all of that out, Jack? Do you think I hadn’t wondered if he was just some random, black, homeless guy that had turned up looking for somewhere nice to live?’ Anger and sarcasm ran through her voice. She’d been so happy that Bastion had turned up and right now the last thing she needed was to fall out with Jack.

  ‘So, what are you going to do?’ he asked as Jess walked towards the balustrade that provided a gallery to the grand hall, in which the twenty-foot Christmas tree sparkled with brightly coloured lights and the sound of Bing Crosby’s ‘White Christmas’ echoed. The whole room had taken on an amber hue; the fire crackled within the huge, stone, inglenook fireplace, its flames reflecting in the numerous pictures and the smell of burning logs and pine needles filled the air. Jess sighed. The atmosphere in the Hall was normally happy, warm and comforting, yet at that moment she felt none of those emotions.

  Jess needed to think. She took a moment to lean against the railing and watched the way that Jack walked back and forth along the landing, with his hands on his hips. He was restless, he obviously had more to say and she took in a deep breath as he moved forward to lean against the balustrade beside her. It had been a long and tough day for them all and Jess was surprised at both Jack’s attitude and his tone. He was normally the most supportive person she’d ever met, but tonight he seemed sad and anxious. She realised that he was talking to her, though she hadn’t really been listening.

  ‘… and what do we do in the meantime, Jess? Babysit? Look after a child we’ve never met before? I mean is that even legal? And for how long? Do you have any idea how long the hospital will keep him or do we call social services?’ Jack had continued. ‘Well?’

  ‘I don’t know, Jack. Why didn’t you ask Bastion while you were interrogating him?’ she snapped. She felt betrayed. Jack had gone to the hospital without telling her and the more she thought about it, the angrier she got. It was as though he didn’t want her to have a father, didn’t want her to have that joy, or even the knowledge of who he was. She shook her head, trying to dispel the fog that had taken over her thoughts, and it crossed her mind that Jack might be jealous that Bastion was here, disrupting the status quo and giving her the father figure that he’d never had.

  ‘So …’ Jack’s voice burnt through her thoughts.

  ‘What do you expect me to do, Jack?’ Jess walked towards the bedroom door. She looked inside at the sleeping Lily before pulling the door to a close and then pointed to the window. ‘Did you take a look out there tonight, Jack? Did you … did you see the weather?’ She walked down to the turning point on the grand staircase and stood before the huge stone mullion window. She tapped on the glass. ‘It’s winter, it’s been raining for days and she’s just a child. A cold, homeless child, who has nowhere to go and, what’s more, my father brought her to me.’ Jess pulled her cardigan tightly around her body. ‘As far as I know, Jack, she’s my sister, my own flesh and blood, so I can hardly throw her out on the streets to look after herself, now can I?’ She lifted her hands and shoulders in a shrug. ‘And, Jack. It’s Christmas. It’s just nine days till Christmas. She’s just a tiny little girl, not the bloody enemy.’

  Jack looked up. ‘Oh, Jess. I’m sorry.’ He walked to her and pulled her into a hug. ‘Look, I know it’s Christmas. But …’ His voice was now barely a whisper and he sat down on the steps, pulling her to sit down with him. ‘I love you so much, Jess. I really do. But all this, it’s too much and I’m totally out of my depth. I have no idea what to do, what would be for the best. I mean, what if he doesn’t survive? What happens then? Does she have any other relatives? Or do we take on the responsibility, Jess? Is it up to us to bring her up, you know if …?’

  Jess looked up. ‘Wow. Is that what this is all about, Jack?’ She turned and stared at the bedroom door. She had no idea how to answer him. She hadn’t thought that far ahead, in fact she hadn’t really thought beyond that night and for a moment her thoughts went to Lily. What would happen to her if Bastion died? Would they really send her to live with the woman who’d apparently emptied their flat to pay for heroin? Is that where she’d have to go? ‘I really don’t think he’s about to die, Jack. The paramedics said it was a mild case of pneumonia, nothing more. He collapsed due to exhaustion and they said he needed some intravenous antibiotics and a lot of rest, that’s all. They said he’d be okay.’ She tried to convince herself with the words.

  ‘I know, Jess. But what if he isn’t? It’s just a few weeks until our wedding and I need to know where we stand. I’m not ready to be a parent. Especially to an eight-year-old.’

  Jack’s words spun around in her mind. He wasn’t ready to be a father. Her shoulders slumped as the realisation of his words hit her. She closed her eyes and thought of all the times she’d dreamed of having a baby, of what it would be like to be a mother, especially since Poppy had been born. Jess clearly remembered Poppy coming home with Madeleine and how Madeleine had lain her down in the Moses basket, and how she’d sat for hours staring at her, praying for her to wake so she could pick her up, cuddle her and help with feeding. The basket had been so beautiful, with a white broderie anglaise cotton lining and a pretty pink blanket, and Poppy lying in there, so tiny and perfect.

  ‘I’m just worried about you, Jess,’ Jack said into the silence that had engulfed them. ‘I’m worried about what will happen … this man, he … he could be anyone and …’ He paused and looked out of the window.

  ‘Jack,’ she pleaded, ‘if you love me, you need to support me.’

  ‘You know I will always support you.’ Jack looked back at her with saddened eyes. ‘Haven’t I been there for you, through everything? Wasn’t I the one to hold you together after what that nutter did to you?’ He paused. ‘I waited, Jess. I waited for all of that to be over. I waited in the hope that one day I’d get you to myself, just for a little while. But then, out of nowhere, Bastion Collymore turns up, claiming to be your father.’ His voice was filled with an emotion that Jess had never heard before.

  ‘I want it to be true, Jack. I really want him to be my father, I really want to have some family left that I can hold onto.’

  Jack shook his head. ‘But what if he isn’t? I love you, Jess. I love you so much, and I can’t bear to watch you fall apart again.’ He held his head in his hands. ‘You know I’ll support you, Jess, no matter what. But, please, for me, ask for a DNA test and I promise you, if Bastion is your father I’ll welcome him with open arms.’ He placed a hand on his heart. ‘I promise.’

  Jess concentrated on her breathing. She realised she’d been intermittently holding her breath and once again felt glad that she was sitting down, fearing that if she hadn’t been, she’d have most probably fainted. She needed something to do, someth
ing to concentrate on and began to stroke the oak balustrade affectionately. It was solid, beautifully carved, and had all been replaced after the fire, yet had been made to look original, as if it belonged.

  ‘This house, our lives here, it is about us. We rebuilt this whole place, together, and it’s what we have here that means so much to me, especially after what we all went through.’ Jess closed her eyes. ‘I hoped we’d have a future here, Jack. I thought this house would be a place where we’d become parents and raise a family and maybe that family will end up including Lily.’ She inhaled, and placed a hand on her chest. Her heart seemed to be fluttering rather than beating and she made an attempt to calm herself, in the hope that the fluttering would stop. She wasn’t stupid, she was well aware that Bastion Collymore might not be her father, she didn’t need Jack to remind her of that. However, she’d already become attached to Lily. She’d watched her as she’d tossed, turned and finally slept and all the while she’d watched, she’d stroked her hair and wondered how she’d feel when she could watch her own son or daughter sleep.

  Jess had sat with Lily for hours. She’d been nervous, uncomfortable and for a while had sobbed for her father. Jess’s heart had broken. The child’s love for her father was more than obvious and Jess would have done anything to take away the pain, but Lily’s words still haunted her. ‘She took everything, even my toys. We had no money left, Jess. Daddy was sick, he couldn’t work and we couldn’t pay the rent or buy food and we had to leave, before the bad men came.’ She’d lain beside Jess on the bed and had curled her body up in a self-protecting ball. ‘Daddy said they’d probably come soon, especially if we couldn’t pay the rent, so we counted every penny, you see, it was important to us that we got to you. We even slept in a shop doorway. It was cold and scary and Daddy, he made me wear most of his clothes to keep me warm and then … then we walked all the way from Scarborough, just to get here.’ Her hands had gone up to indicate the Hall and Jess had gasped, knowing that the child had gone through hell and had walked at least three or four miles in the freezing cold rain.

  Jess had given Lily a bath, washed her hair, put plasters on her blistered feet and had provided her with an oversized nightdress. Then she’d held her and rocked her until she’d fallen to sleep. But Lily hadn’t slept calmly, she’d tossed and turned, going from one nightmare to another, making Jess wonder how much a child of eight could have already been through to make her dream so badly.

  ‘… lost you once, Jess. I can’t risk anything happening to you again.’

  Jess drifted out of her thoughts to once again hear Jack speak and realised that she hadn’t heard most of the sentence. ‘Sorry, what?’

  Jack tutted. ‘I was saying that after the fire, after you were kidnapped, I thought I’d lost you. At first we all thought you’d been trapped in the flames, that you were dead, but then to realise you’d got out of the Hall, only to find out that he had you, Jess, we were all beside ourselves. I can’t bear for you to be hurt again. I just can’t.’ He pulled her towards him and Jess took in the homely, musky smell of his aftershave. It was a smell she loved, it was a smell that meant she was close to him and she had an overwhelming desire to feel his body next to hers. But then, Jack pulled away, stood up and walked to the window seat where he perched and looked outside.

  Jess thought back to the year before. To the way Liam, Madeleine’s ex-fiancé, had hunted them all down, almost killed them in an arson attack that had almost destroyed the Hall and then, when they’d all thought it safe, he’d struck again, taking both Jess and Madeleine hostage in different ways, with a view to killing them both. Jess felt her stomach turn as she remembered the fear she’d felt, the pain of being confined in a cage and when she’d finally escaped, when the police found her, the despair she’d felt when she found out that Liam had also been responsible for the deaths of so many people, including their mother, and Madeleine’s first husband, literary agent and father. He’d tried to kill or destroy everyone that Madeleine had loved. The police had called it obsession, but Jess knew that it had been much more than that and for months after, she and Madeleine had clung together in a silent unity that only sisters could have shared.

  Was this a similar sister like unity she could share with Lily? She and Madeleine had always been close, yet so very different. Not only in personality, but also in looks. She had dark chestnut skin and wild Afro hair. She had a fiery personality and normally wouldn’t think twice before fighting her own corner. Whereas Madeleine had fair skin, a clear complexion, shoulder length blonde hair and was so very beautiful, brave and caring. Jess closed her eyes for a moment and took in a deep breath. For the first time in her life she had a relation that looked like her. Lily was her younger duplicate. A younger version of herself and, with that in mind, she really wanted her to be a sister too.

  But, if that was the case, why hadn’t Bastion Collymore come forward before? Why had he waited twenty years to come to her, to introduce himself? And how, when their mother had called it a one-night stand, when it obviously hadn’t been, had he known who she was, or where to find her?

  ‘But what if he is, Jack? What if Bastion is my father and for the first time in my life, I could have a family member who actually looks like me?’ She looked hopeful and put her hand on her heart. ‘Think about it, I’ve never had that. Both Mum and Maddie, they were both fair and blonde, whereas me, I was a cuckoo in the nest. The little black kid, the odd one out. I’d have done anything to look the same or even similar to them. And now I have it, I have someone who’s like me. Did you see Lily? She’s my double. Everything about her is similar to the way I looked at her age.’ Her thoughts went to her baby, to how it would look when it was born and she wondered whether it too would take on her colouring, or whether the baby would be more like Jack, with his pale skin and dark hair.

  ‘Jess, my God, look at you, you’re so beautiful. I’ve always thought so.’ Jack moved back to sit on the step beside her. ‘You’re no cuckoo. You’re stunning and I feel so proud to walk out with you. I just think you’ve seen enough hurt.’ He pulled away and looked directly into Jess’s eyes. His hand rested on her knee. ‘I’m worried about you. As far as we all know, your mother and father …’ He paused and looked away. ‘… well, from what you’d been told, it had been a quick fling, a sailor who’d gone back to sea. Your mother told you that she’d never seen him again. Yet now, over twenty years later, up pops Bastion Collymore all the way from London, homeless and needing somewhere to live; as far as I’m aware, he never went to sea, he was never a sailor and from what he said, your mother was not a one-night stand. Their stories don’t match and I just want you to be careful, Jess, that’s all. And it’s not like your mum is here to confirm what he’s saying now, is it?’

  ‘Well, I guess it would all have been easier all round if my mother hadn’t been murdered and that he’d turned up a millionaire, wouldn’t it, Jack?’

  Jack sat quietly and shook his head. Jess saw him momentarily close his eyes, and knew that he was tired. It had been a long day and they were both exhausted.

  ‘Jack, if you had a child, if you were to be a father, you’d stand by it, wouldn’t you?’ It was a question she hadn’t wanted to ask, but felt she had to.

  ‘Jess, seriously, come on.’ He put his arm around her shoulder. ‘You have nothing to worry about on that score. You know I wouldn’t leave you. But … but it’s not going to happen, not for a good few years. We’re both young and far too sensible for that. Besides we have the wedding coming up.’ He kissed her on the cheek. ‘Once we’re married, I want to find us a house of our own, with a garden full of swings and climbing frames, and security, Jess. I need us to have security. Especially after all that happened here, after all the nightmares we went through. I know you love this place, but for me it’s the last place I’d want to bring my children up. Don’t you see that?’

  Jess inhaled and a sob left her throat. ‘But, Jack.’ She paused, turned and stared into his eyes. ‘I … I’m preg
nant.’

  Chapter Nine

  Bright sparkling Christmas lights lit up the street, and shop windows danced with displays full of bright red bows, Santas, elves and sleighs full of sacks with toys spilling out, showing the promise of delights to come. All of this gave the whole world expectations they couldn’t meet and put people into debt they couldn’t afford.

  Both men and women went from pub to pub, singing, dancing and laughing, dressed in their party clothes, and all seemed to have more money than sense. None of them looked as though they had a care in the world.

  But Annie wasn’t laughing, nor was she waiting for a Christmas promise. Punters in the brothel had been thin on the ground, so she’d headed out into the streets to find the party revellers. She’d worked all night, but after the last hit of drugs, she no longer had any money. But she didn’t care. The drugs had overtaken her mind and she pulled herself, inch by inch, from shop to shop, holding onto the walls, doors and windows for support. She needed to sit down, close her eyes and more than anything else, she wanted to sleep. She needed to recover for just a while, and for her head to stop spinning, before she went back to work, before she looked for yet another punter, another good for nothing slob of a man to pleasure and endure for what would feel like the millionth time that year.

  Her mind spun and she looked around for somewhere to sit. She knew that at thirty years old she ought to be wishing that her life too was one big party. That she’d be out there drinking, singing and dancing with the partygoers, that she’d be having fun and enjoying life. Or perhaps she should be wishing for an armchair, a fire to sit before, hot tea or cocoa and a place where she could curl up and be warm. She couldn’t remember being warm for such a long time and the thought of a cosy room, with a fire, a Christmas tree and gifts brought a lump to her throat. All of this was what normal people would wish for at her age, but no, not her; all she wanted in her life was heroin. The drugs – the heroin – was like air itself to her and once she had it, she was happy. She knew she’d begin to feel calm, she’d escape the turmoil of life and sink into the darkness, a place where she’d finally find solace.