Different Genes

by Claire Baldry

  “That’s Bob. He’s a family friend.”

  “Why would your mum pay him £25,000 three weeks before she died?”

  “I have absolutely no idea.”

  Louise and Simon strolled back to the studio hand in hand. They were totally engrossed in the closeness of their relationship, and yet thrown into turmoil by the discoveries of the past few days. They laid on the bed together and fell into an immediate, deep sleep, until Louise’s unconscious terrors woke Simon with her screaming.

  “It’s okay sweetheart, I’m here.”

  “Nana?”

  “No, this is Simon. Let me hold you, Louise. I am here for you always.”

  The couple drew their bodies together and drifted back to sleep.

  They were woken by the phone. Simon jumped out of bed and grabbed the handset.

  “Thank you very much.”

  He looked at Louise, “Good news and bad. They have sold the case, but they know who bought it.”

  “Who bought it?” yawned Louise.

  “The local primary school for a play about World War Two evacuees.”

  “Did you get the name of the school?”

  “Chapel Lane Primary, in Guestling.”

  “I’ll ring them.”

  Simon looked up the number.

  Louise spoke to a voice in the school office. She explained that she had donated the case to the charity shop without realising its significance in their family history. She offered the school a donation to funds, if they would return the case. The voice said she would ring Louise back.

  “All this waiting is so frustrating,” Louise said to Simon.

  “You’d better get used to it, Lou. I suspect there is a lot more to come.”

  The school rang back quickly. Louise answered, while Simon watched her changing expressions. She seemed to be listening for ages.

  “What time tomorrow would be convenient?”

  She scribbled down a name and ended the call.

  Simon waited for Louise to speak.

  “They have the case. We can collect it tomorrow at 10 am. But there’s more, Simon. One of the children found an old photo in a side pocket of the case. The teacher kept it and was going to use it as inspiration for creative writing. The photo is of a lady standing outside a house. There is a word written on the back. She said it’s a bit faded but still legible. It says ‘Nana’.”

  Once again, Simon and Louise stared at each other. Louise exhaled loudly, and Simon hugged her for a very long time.

  Louise slept badly that night. She was worried she might be invaded by dreams.

  “I can’t dream if I stay awake all night.”

  “Try and relax. I am here with you.” Simon’s reassurance was useless. Louise got up and spent the rest of the night painting. Eventually, Simon went back to sleep. He would need to be strong for both of them.

  Twenty-Five

  From Guestling to Battle

  By ten past nine, they were in the car ready to leave.

  “Louise, have you got your cheque book and the cash?”

  She double-checked in her handbag.

  “Yes.”

  They headed towards Guestling. The plan was to visit the school and then make a brief visit to the bungalow in Fairlight.

  They arrived at the school at a quarter to ten. Simon parked outside on the road, and they waited in the car until a few minutes before ten. They found the main entrance and rang the bell. The intercom spoke.

  “Can I help you?”

  “It’s Mrs Watson about the photo… and of course the suitcase.”

  They were buzzed in. A lady behind the reception desk asked them to sit and wait. They lowered themselves into the lightly upholstered chairs and looked at the childish art on the walls. Louise tried to distract herself.

  “These are good. I like that one with the colourwash over the crayon.”

  A lady appeared with the suitcase, and Simon took Louise’s hand.

  “Mrs Watson, I believe this belongs to you.”

  “Thank you so much. Have you got the photograph?”

  The secretary produced a small white envelope, which she handed to Louise.

  “It’s lucky the class teacher decided to keep it.”

  Louise’s hand trembled, as she opened the envelope. It revealed a tall, smartly dressed, lady in 1950s clothing. She was standing outside an elegant Victorian house. On the back was written the word ‘Nana’.

  “Do you know this lady?” asked the secretary, “She looks a lot like you.”

  Louise’s eyes filled with tears.

  “I’m sorry, I’m a bit emotional. I’m adopted you see. I think this lady may be a birth relative.”

  Simon took over.

  “Can you please thank the teacher for us. This is a very big moment for Louise.” He took forty pounds from his own wallet.

  “We want to make a donation to your school.”

  “You really don’t have to.”

  “We want to.”

  “Perhaps, when your wife feels better, she could give us a ring and tell us a bit more. I’m sure the children would love to know the whole story.”

  “We’ll do that,” said Simon. He picked up the case and ushered Louise back to the car. She gripped the photo.

  “I keep thinking that the lady in my dreams may have touched this photo.”

  “It’s mind blowing, Louise. I’m sorry people keep assuming we are married. We must behave like an old married couple.”

  “Less of the old,” Louise grinned. “Thank you, Simon for being so understanding. I really couldn’t do this without your support. Charlie would have grown very cross with me by now.”

  “I’m here for you Louise… but you do now owe me forty pounds. Can you cope with Fairlight?”

  “Why not?”

  Simon swung the car around and turned into the narrow lane which led to the Fairlight Road.

  He drove gently through the country roads until he reached the steep hill which approached Fairlight village. The sky was cloudless, and they could see the fields and coastline stretching to Dungeness in the distance.

  “That is some view, a bit clearer than on the day of your mother’s funeral.”

  “Let’s hope it’s a good omen.”

  Simon parked outside the bungalow.

  “I want you to stay locked in the car. I’m going to walk round the bungalow and check it out before we go in.”

  “What if someone is there?”

  “Then I will run like hell.”

  Simon approached the bungalow with a confident manner, while Louise was watching. Once out of her sight he slowed down and took his mobile phone out of his pocket as an extra precaution. His steps were tentative, and he looked around constantly. The wooden insert with which he had secured the patio door from the inside was still in place. All the windows were closed, and he could see no sign of intrusion. He walked back to the car.

  “It looks fine, Lou, but I’m going inside to check every room before you come in.”

  “You don’t need to baby me, Simon.”

  “Yes, I do. It makes me feel manly.”

  Louise was more than happy to comply. Simon unlocked the front door and glanced into the lounge. The front of the desk was closed. He looked in Louise’s bedroom. There was no photo on the bed. He went back to the living area and opened the desk. The photo was still in the desk. After a brief check of the other rooms, Simon returned to Louise.

  “Everything seems fine. You wanna come in?”

  Louise was still holding the photograph. She returned it to the envelope, slipped it in her handbag, and got out of the car.

  “Just for five minutes.”

  They walked around the bungalow
and felt a sense of relief.

  “Perhaps it was just kids, after all.”

  Once they had double-checked every lock, they returned to Robertsbridge.

  Simon made some coffee, while Louise re-examined the photo.

  “I’ve got some software at my house which might be able to pick out a few more details on that photo. It would do us both good, I think, to have a change of scene for a couple of days. You can bring the case and all the paperwork with you. I know you won’t be able to stop thinking about it, and it’s about time you stayed with me.”

  “I’ll need some time to pack.”

  “And I’ll need some time on my own to warm up the house. I’ll come back for you, shall I? Or you could drive over later, then you will have your own car with you.”

  You are so thoughtful, Simon, why didn’t I find you earlier?”

  “Sadly, I haven’t always been this thoughtful. Ring me before you leave, and I will put the kettle on.”

  As Louise watched Simon’s car disappear, she began to feel nervous. Despite their original plans, Louise had not yet visited Simon’s house. The events of the past days had overtaken them. She looked at the calendar on her phone. It was only three weeks since they met at the garden centre. It seemed much longer. He was right to suggest she took her own car. She needed to feel safe. She might not like staying at his house. She might meet his sons, his neighbours, his ex-wife even. She wondered if she had time for a shower. She would make time.

  It took Louise two hours to shower, dry her hair, pack a case, and put the papers into a holdall. The photograph was in her handbag. She carried her belongings downstairs in two journeys and phoned Simon from her car.

  “I’m just nipping to the cash machine and then I’ll be with you.”

  “I don’t charge rent.”

  Simon was watching nervously from an upstairs window, when Louise arrived. As instructed, she parked her car next to his in the drive. Simon was pleased that Louise had taken her time. He had contacted his cleaner and offered her twice her normal rate, if she could come round immediately. In the space of two hours Mrs Simms had changed the bed, cleaned the bathrooms and wiped over the kitchen, while Simon had escaped into Battle. He purchased a few provisions as well as two night lights, which he put on the dressing table in his bedroom.

  He opened the front door and kissed Louise.

  “Welcome to Chez Simon. Sorry, that sounds rather clichéd.”

  Louise looked at the front garden.

  “This is beautiful.”

  His nerves eased a little, “Let me take your case upstairs. I’ll show you the bedroom. You look lovely by the way.”

  He led the way. “I hope this is alright. I don’t have a dressing table, but you can use this chest of drawers for your make-up and hair, and I’ve cleared some space in the wardrobe or would you rather put your things in the spare room… and I bought two night lights.”

  Louise laughed out loud.

  “Simon, it’s lovely. I love the house and I’m very adaptable, and thank you for making so much effort. Now where’s that kettle?”

  “Sorry, I just wanted it to be right. This is a man-house. You might find it a bit clinical.”

  Suddenly, Louise felt the need to take charge. She sighed loudly.

  “Go downstairs, make me a cup of tea, and I will join you in a few minutes. I just want to hang up a couple of tops.”

  He did as he was told.

  After tea, Simon showed Louise round the house and garden and confessed about his panic phone call to the cleaner. They sat back down, and he asked, “Pub or takeaway?”

  “Which would you prefer?”

  “Well I do want to talk to you. I have a proposition, so how about a takeaway? You choose.”

  Simon handed Louise a massive pile of takeaway delivery leaflets.

  “These are essential for a man who lives alone.”

  By the time the food delivery arrived, Simon and Louise were sitting at the kitchen table sharing a bottle of wine.

  “Have you thought what you are going to do about finding out more about your biological family?”

  “I have moments when I think I will do nothing. My real mum is probably dead by now and I have the photo as a link to the past.”

  Simon looked momentarily disappointed.

  “The problem is,” Louise continued “I can’t seem to let it go. I think about it all the time. I guess I will have to try and find out more.”

  By this time, they were helping themselves to portions of fried rice, vegetables and chilli beef from plastic containers. Simon refilled Louise’s glass.

  “Do you want to go and see Karen?”

  “I know it’s not really her fault, but I feel very cross with Karen. All those years she was holding a secret which belonged to me. I don’t think I can face her yet.”

  “I have to confess that I felt cross with Karen on your behalf when I met her with Joe. Karen said you were collected from a children’s home in Kent, and the receipt in your mum’s papers was for a donation to Hellingham House in Chatham, Kent. There must be a connection. If we could find a bit more information we could go there. Maybe stay in a hotel and have a few days away together? I hear that Chatham dockyard is well worth a visit.”

  Louise considered his proposal.

  “I might get very emotional, Simon. Are you sure you can put up with me?”

  “You can’t do this on your own, Lou, and you do have good reason to be emotional. I think I’d be far more worried if you didn’t show emotion.”

  Simon hesitated, “I’m not sure if you’ll like me admitting this, but I’m rather looking forward to the research. It’s my sort of project.”

  “I actually feel a lot better knowing I’m not being a nuisance. The only thing is, I don’t want to be put under pressure. You will have to let me dictate the pace.”

  Simon grinned and stroked Louise’s hand.

  “You are getting to know me a bit too well. I do get carried away sometimes. You must tell me, if I am moving too quickly… with anything. I promise I will listen and slow down.”

  They filled the bin with left overs and plastic containers and loaded the dishwasher. Louise suddenly became very tired. She sat on the sofa and felt her eyes closing.

  “You’ve had an exhausting day, Lou. Why don’t you go to bed? I’ll come up in a minute and say goodnight.”

  By the time Simon went upstairs to see Louise, she was fast asleep. He stood and watched her sleeping body in the dim glow of his newly-purchased nightlight.

  “You have a woman in your bed, Simon,” he said to himself with satisfaction.

  He crept downstairs, turned on his computer and did another search for Hellingham House.

  Hellingham House, Chatham, Kent,

  Address: 27, Moor Lane, Chatham, ME4

  Tel. 01634 879622

  Opening hours 9.30–4 pm Mon to Thurs

  He wondered where Louise had left the photograph from the suitcase. He would ask her in the morning. The phone rang. It was Joe.

  “Shush, I have a sleeping visitor. You will wake her up.”

  “Sorry, Dad, I didn’t realise her bedtime was so early.”

  “It’s not everyday you find a photo of a long-lost relative. It’s very tiring.”

  And Simon explained to Joe about the suitcase and the photograph.

  “Am I boring you?”

  “No, Dad, seriously, you’re not. It’s fascinating, but I do have something to tell you. Oliver has heard that Louise is staying, and he wants to visit.”

  “That’s all I need. Is he going to be difficult?”

  “Possibly, and he’ll just turn up. I thought I should warn you.”

  “Thanks Joe, I’ll fill Louise in tomorrow.”

&nbs
p; Simon climbed the stairs and found his pyjamas neatly folded on the pillow next to Louise’s head. He changed in the bathroom, so as not to wake her. When he returned, she was enveloped in the duvet, and he could not untangle her.

  “Duvet wars, is it?” whispered Simon. He grabbed a blanket from the spare room, and covered himself on the bed beside her.

  Twenty-Six

  Meeting Oliver

  The doorbell rang at 8.30 am the following morning. Simon had finally gained possession of his share of the duvet, and they were relaxing in bed with a coffee and their laptops. Louise was reading Simon’s link about Hellingham House, and Simon was researching hotels in Chatham.

  “Bloody Hell, who’s that?” groaned Simon, when he heard the bell. “If it’s blokes offering to tarmac my drive on the cheap, I might thump them.”

  He pulled on some joggers and went downstairs.

  He opened the door to his younger son, Oliver.

  “Hi, Dad, I just wondered how you are?”

  Simon poured Oliver a coffee and sat him in the lounge.

  “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  He hurried upstairs.

  “Lou, I’m really sorry, but my younger son, Oliver, is here. He lives with his mother. I should have told you more about him and about my divorce, but it never seemed the right time.”

  Louise shot out of bed and grabbed some clothes.

  “You go down, I’ll be with you in a minute… unless you want me to escape through the back window.”

  “Don’t be daft. We have to face this. I would just have preferred a bit of planning time.”

  Louise brushed her hair and added a flash of lipstick. She calmly walked downstairs into the lounge. She offered Oliver her hand.

  “Hello, Oliver. It’s good to meet you.”

  Oliver was in his mid-twenties and very good looking, despite the sceptical expression on his face.

  “So you are the woman who is about to become my stepmother.”

  Simon felt his anger rising. He knew his younger son was being intentionally provocative. He stood up and was close to exploding. Louise sensed Simon’s increasing negative emotions. She thought quickly.