by Lynda Stacey
Jack thought of the DNA test, of Bastion and although he still felt that the DNA test needed to be done, after the story he’d been told that morning, he now had no doubt that Bastion really was Jess’s father. He knew too many details and the man had far too much heartache for it not to be true.
Opening the door, Jack hesitated before entering and heading to the window. He looked out, took in the limited view and then placed the wicker basket on the floor, while he erected the stand, and then stood back to see the Moses basket in all its glory. He nodded; it was beautiful, he knew that Jess would like it and he felt pleased with his choice.
He took in the familiar surroundings of their room and smiled. He and Jess had chosen everything in the room together, from the red tartan bedspread to the picture that hung above the bed. It was a picture of the two of them, taken the year before during a holiday in Italy. They’d been sitting in the main square on the island of Capri, hooking arms and sipping out of each other’s glasses, their lips just millimetres apart and their eyes locked together. The look on their faces was one of pure love. He laughed as he remembered the cost of the kir royales, thirty-two euros for the two, but so worth the look on Jess’s face when he’d ordered them.
He sat on the bed, but then stood up and moved to the chair and sat, tapping his fingers on the chair arm. He wanted to be there when Jess came back, he wanted to see the look on her face. He looked up at the clock, then closed his eyes and breathed in deeply to take in the familiar smell of the room. A soft, citrus smell surrounded him; it was the smell of Jess, of her perfume. He smiled and looked over at the basket and wondered how long it would be before their baby would be in there, cooing and gurgling and melting their hearts. The basket was pure white, and now he wished he’d bought a Babygro, a blanket or something that would make it look just a little less sterile. He made a conscious decision to call back at the shop and buy something of colour, maybe in a lemon or ivory.
He’d sat for what seemed like hours and again he looked at his watch. It was just after three. He rummaged in his trouser pocket and pulled out his mobile. ‘Do I text you, or just wait?’ he asked himself, but then dropped the phone on the bed. ‘No, just wait,’ he whispered, after deciding that a text might worry Jess, or put her off coming to the room altogether.
He glanced at where the television hung on the wall, and then at the bedside table, where his eyes fell upon the letter that Emily had written to him, a small white envelope with a Post-it note attached and in Jess’s handwriting, the words, ‘Jack, you still haven’t read your letter.’
He stood up, went to the door and listened. But the corridor beyond was silent. He came to the conclusion that Jess and the children must have gone to the kitchen for their tea. Meaning that all he could do was wait. He went back to the chair and sat down. Once again he looked at the envelope, then picked it up and tore it open. An old metal key fell out and he picked it up and studied it. The key was similar to one that you’d see in a museum. Big and clunky, with a scrolled shaft. He smiled and placed it on the bed where he could see it as he read.
My dear Jack
Secrets, secrets, secrets, every person in this house has far too many of them. The secrets have always been there, they’ve always surrounded us, both in the past and in the present. But for the sake of this house, and the love you have for Jess, you all need to start talking to one another, and once and for all, the secrets need to end.
I always found that secrets breed lies and lies are not good, not for any of us, least of all for an old lady who has struggled for most of her life trying to keep far too many, not only the secrets of her own, but also those of others.
If you’re reading this letter, then I will have already left this earth and although some people may be sad at my passing and feel that my life has been one dedicated to others, I really don’t want anyone’s pity. You can be assured that my life was exactly as it should have been. I had everything I could have wished for and I had no desire for it to have been any different. You see, I love the Hall with all my heart and even though, whilst growing up, the winters here were harsh, I still loved it above everything else. My happiest memories were made here, from a time that surrounded my childhood, a time when I still had my mother and father, along with my brother and sisters. But it was Mary, my twin that I was closest to. We’d spend the nights together, snuggled up, chatting in one another’s bedrooms, all in secret without our parents’ knowledge. It was here we spoke of our first loves, where I told Mary all about my Eddie, how I hoped to have a love and marriage as good as the one I thought our parents had. And if it had been up to me, my marriage would have been good. I loved my Eddie with every piece of my heart and I know that he loved me too. With that love came our son, Arthur, who was born out of wedlock; the pregnancy had been another secret that I’d held until after his birth. But my Eddie had gone to war before he knew I was with child. A war that brought him back a different man; his mind was broken, his body ruined and he came home a man who needed me to look after him, even though he had no idea who I really was. But to me, that didn’t matter. I loved him, just as I loved our son.
This house, Wrea Head Hall, my family home, was the place where my son, my Arthur, was born. His memories of being close to this house as a child were good, although because of the war he was brought up by his grandmother and lived in the gatehouse where Madeleine and Bandit now live. But now as an infirm adult, his being back here gives him the calmness and continuity that he needs, and because of that I’m grateful that we returned and that as I leave this earth, he has people around him who can love and care for him in my absence.
For me, I could never imagine bringing up my child anywhere but here. But for you, it’s different, and I know that. Forgive me, Jack, but Jess told me that you’re about to become a father. It should be a time of happiness, of new life, but I know the events of last year have left a sadness within you, a need for stability and security that lies at your very core.
I know you need a future, Jack, a life away from Wrea Head Hall, however I hope you’ll not want to be too far away and that the responsibility of becoming a parent will come naturally to you. It’s certainly a responsibility that I know you’ll take seriously, because you’re a good man. Jess chose her life partner well. And even though I know that right now you’ll be confused, please be assured that every person who finds out they’re about to become a parent goes through all of these feelings. I know that I certainly did. But I also know that both you and Jess will be the best at everything you do. You’ll be the best father and husband that she could wish for and vice versa.
As I said before, this house has held far too many secrets and even though you are not aware, it’s held one for you too. One that your mother has chosen not to tell you in life, but one that I feel you should know after my death, for if I don’t tell you, then who will? There will be no one left who knows the truth, except for your mother, and she must have her own reasons for keeping the truth from you.
I kept a secret for many years before you were born, a secret that should never have been mine to keep. I would have been almost twenty when I found out that my father was having an affair. No one else knew the truth. Not my mother, nor my siblings. You see, my father was a man of discretion. He was very careful in his actions and the affair was a secret he’d kept for many years, even after the birth of my youngest sister, Rose, a time when my mother seemed to love him the most.
Our childhood nanny, Pamela, lived in the farmhouse that stands just down the lane within the national park. We were told that she’d chosen to stay close to the Hall because of her love for it and for us. But the reality was that our father had built the property for her, in order that he could continue his affair without our mother’s knowledge.
Pamela would have been in her late thirties when she bore a daughter, Ingrid, a daughter that would come to visit us at the Hall and play with our sister Rose. Little did we know at the time that she was our half-sister, a product of my f
ather’s love for Pamela. But then one Christmas, Pamela took sick. She had the fever and my father stayed with her until the end. Ingrid came to live with us at the Hall. But she rebelled and as soon as she could, she left and my father had no idea what became of her. Therefore when he died, I inherited the farm, even though it was a property I never wanted.
In short, Ingrid came back some years later, with her son, William. I was happy to see her and gave her the farm to live in and she stayed for a number of years, but a traffic accident took her life and William went a little wild. He got drunk daily and took many women to his bed, one of whom was your mother. But the idea of fatherhood was not in his plans and one day he just got up and left, never to return, and none of us have seen or heard of him since.
So you see, Jack, you are a direct descendant of my father. You are my great-nephew and in order to settle the secrets of the past and with the knowledge of your heritage, the farm should rightfully be yours.
So, Jack, I hereby bequeath it to you. I want you and Jess to make it your home. But it’s old and it’s been empty for twenty-five years. You’ll have a lot of work to do, and for that I’m so sorry. But you’re young and you’re strong and you could make it a good home for you both. It’s close enough to the Hall for Jess to be near to Madeleine, but far enough away to give you a little independence.
Also, I give you a key. The key is only a symbol, because in reality the locks have not worked for years. But you, Jack, need to provide the locks, you need to make this house a home where your child will flourish, a place of safety for Jess, and ultimately the key should be one to both of your hearts.
Make your home a happy one and make many good memories there in the years to come.
All my love for both of your futures.
Emily x
Jack took in a deep breath, stood up, walked to the window and opened it. He needed the air, needed to think, needed to breathe and he used his hand to waft the air towards him as he gulped in the breaths, one rapidly after the other. He felt as though he had been submerged in water for the longest time, only to be allowed back to the surface to breathe at the very last moment.
‘Why … why hasn’t my mother ever told me?’ he asked himself and then glanced back down at the letter, and re-read it. He looked out of the window, and towards the farmhouse. The trees were bare and he could only just make it out in the distance. Of course he’d known it was there. Everyone did. But he’d never been to it. Why would he?
The sound of children’s voices could be heard through the open window, along with those of Madeleine and Bandit and the bark of Buddy. He grabbed the letter and pushed it deep in his pocket.
Emily had spoken of secrets, how the house had had too many. But now, with this gift she’d given to them, he didn’t know what to do. Should he tell Jess, or should he keep this information to himself, keep the secret for a little while longer, even though Emily had indicated that he shouldn’t?
Sitting back down in the chair, he crossed his legs, tried to look relaxed. But inside his mind was spinning, his legs felt like jelly and his heart pounded like a bass drum. Emily had given him a house. No, not just a house, but a house that would become their home. He couldn’t comprehend what it all meant. His father was the grandson of Emily’s father. But if this were all true, why had his mother struggled for all those years? Why hadn’t she made it public? Surely she would have been entitled to something. He thought of how she’d lived, how proud she’d always been, how she’d always paid her way, even at times when she could least afford it. She had so little, yet here he was now with so much. He had a house, he had somewhere that he and Jess could call their own. It was somewhere that wasn’t the Hall, but as Emily had suggested, it was somewhere just close enough to Madeleine that Jess would be comfortable.
He wiped his brow. He felt hot, even though it was winter; his hands were clammy and he wiped them down his jeans. He had to make a plan. He wanted to go to the farmhouse before it got too dark. He looked out of the window as the dusk pulled and cursed. He wanted to see where and how his father had lived, and he needed to see what Emily had meant by ‘have to do a lot of work’. Was the work something he could do by himself, or not? He quickly decided on the latter. After not being used for twenty-five years, the electrics and the plumbing would all need replacing. He thought of his savings, the money he’d inherited from his maternal grandmother and for a moment he closed his eyes and calculated whether the money he had would be enough. It would probably be tight, especially if they had to replace everything.
He heard footsteps in the corridor and knew that someone was about to walk past, and he stood up and paced around the room, waiting to see if the door opened. A key could be heard in the next door room and Jack felt the air unexpectedly expel from his lungs. It was at that point that he realised he’d been holding his breath and he had to make a conscious effort to breathe before walking to the door. His hand rested on the doorknob and a few moments later, he opened it, only to hear the sound of Christmas carols as they drifted up the stairs and into the corridor.
He left the room and made his way to the top of the stairs, where he leaned on the balustrade and looked over to where a small group of five-year-old schoolchildren stood by the twenty-foot Christmas tree, which now twinkled brightly in the dimming light. All the children were dressed in identical red jumpers, white shirts and grey trousers or skirts. Their parents were all nervously watching, their mouths silently making out each word as their children sang and their teacher stood, his eyes wide open, waving a baton in the hope that he’d keep them all in time with one another.
To one side of the group stood Jess, who was leaning against the library’s doorway. She listened to the carols with a soft, loving smile on her face, while in her arms was a dishevelled looking Poppy, who she rocked back and forth. He leaned further over the balustrade to see young Lily, who sat on her father’s knee, her arms curled tightly around his body and her face nestled into his neck.
Jack smiled at the sight, just as Jess looked up and in his direction. He turned away and ran down the stairs, taking them two at a time, then walked across the grand hall until he stood beside Jess. His arm automatically went around her waist and he caught her eye, before pulling her towards him and kissing her gently on the cheek.
‘I love you so much,’ he whispered as Jess momentarily closed her eyes. ‘You have to trust me. It’s all going to be okay.’ His words were almost lost in the music, but he knew she’d heard him and he now knew exactly what he needed to do to make her happy.
‘Here you go, my lovelies,’ Nomsa said as she passed glasses of eggnog around to the adults, and warm chocolate milk to the children.
Jack took a glass and went to pass one to Jess, then halted. ‘Oh, maybe we shouldn’t.’ He winked at Nomsa and placed the glass back on the tray, as Jess put Poppy on the floor. ‘Honey, stay with Lily, won’t you?’ she said as Poppy smiled and took up residence on the settee beside Bastion.
‘Jess, why don’t you go and get changed?’ His eyes locked with hers. ‘It’s about time I took you out to celebrate,’ Jack whispered as he took Jess’s hand and led her towards the staircase, and towards the room where he’d left the wicker Moses basket.
He was desperate to see the house, but it would still be there in the morning and viewing it would just have to wait. Now he needed to be with Jess and he curled an arm around her waist as they headed up to the bedroom.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jack turned over in bed. Daylight had only just broken and he pulled the quilt up and over both Jess and himself as he snuggled in with his hand on her stomach. He’d lain awake for the past hour, just watching her sleep.
He loved the way she curled into him like one part of their very own jigsaw, the way her hand went under her cheek like she had a home-made pillow and the way the corners of her mouth were turned up in a half smile, making him wonder what she might be dreaming of.
‘I love you so much,’ he whispered as his
chest filled with pride. ‘I’m going to look after you.’ He moved his hand over her stomach. ‘I’m going to look after you both,’ he promised as he caught sight of the jeans that he’d abandoned the evening before. Emily’s letter was still on his mind, the words repeating themselves over and over. Had it been a dream? Had he dreamed that Emily had just given them a house? It all seemed too surreal. Not only had she given them the answer to his prayers, she’d given them a home, a place to be where they could live independently, away from the Hall, but close enough for Jess to be happy. She’d also given him the answers to many of his questions. For years he’d ached for information about his father, he’d wanted to know who he was, where he lived. He’d been shocked to find out that the answers really hadn’t been that far away, and that in the end his whole history was here, at the Hall.
‘I don’t want you working there,’ his mother had said when he’d first been offered the job. ‘Can’t you refuse, find a job somewhere else, in fact anywhere else?’ His mum had challenged his decision for days and had made it very clear that she hadn’t wanted him working at the Hall. The problem was he’d had no idea why and, like any young man, he’d gone his own way and had taken the job against her wishes.
‘Are you awake?’ Jack kissed Jess’s cheek as his hand caressed her stomach.
‘Mmmm, I am now.’ She smiled and turned to him, her eyes sparkling in the early morning light as her lips gently brushed against his.
‘I love this baby already,’ Jack said as his hand moved from her stomach and went up to touch her face. He returned the kiss. ‘I love you both so very much.’ And he did. While watching her, he’d realised how much he was looking forward to the birth, to nurturing his baby, caring for it and protecting it. He tried to imagine what it would be like to decorate a nursery, a place where a rocking chair would stand, with Jess sitting in it, rocking his own son or daughter to sleep.