Jude had hardly paid his mother any attention when they finally got together for dinner at Sylvia’s, and barely made eye contact with anyone, except Emma, who seemed to amuse him. Both Gabe and Logan tried to engage him in conversation, but Jude replied with monosyllabic answers and gazed at something just beyond everyone’s heads. Quinn noticed him pulling at the sleeves of his jersey, as if afraid someone would see his forearms. He wore a black and white kaffieh wound about his neck and nearly bit Sylvia’s head off when she asked if he’d like to take it off.
Both Logan and Sylvia tried to compensate for Jude’s silence by making conversation and fussing over Emma, who lapped up the attention. She asked if she might call Logan ‘Uncle Logan.’ He loved the idea, but when Emma turned to Jude with the same request he simply said, “No thanks, kid. Maybe you can bestow that honor on Colin, since he’s now a member of this family. Should I be referring to you as my brother-in-law?” he asked, pinning Colin with his hostile gaze.
“Colin and I are not married. Yet,” Logan retorted. Colin shifted uncomfortably, but didn’t reply, choosing this moment to excuse himself instead.
“You may call me ‘Grandma Sylvia,’” Sylvia chimed in. Quinn hadn’t expected that and wasn’t at all sure she was ready for Sylvia to become a full-fledged grandmother to Emma. After all, Emma wasn’t her biological granddaughter, and it seemed too soon to put a label on their relationship.
“But I already have too many grandmothers,” Emma protested. “I had my gran who died, and now I have Grandma Phoebe and Grandma Susan. Do I have four grandmothers when everyone else has two?” Emma asked, seeking clarification. At four, she couldn’t possibly hope to grasp the complexity of all these relationships, particularly when the adults were still trying to figure them out and find their footing.
“Sweetheart, I only meant that I would like to be your honorary grandma,” Sylvia amended.
“I don’t understand,” Emma said anxiously.
Quinn put an arm around Emma to comfort her. “It’s all right, darling. We’ll figure this all out. When I was little, I had to do a family tree to learn all about my family. Perhaps we can do that for you. Would you like that?”
Emma nodded enthusiastically, but Gabe frowned in Quinn’s direction. Emma was too young to comprehend the connections that made up her current family. A family tree would lead to a lot of awkward questions, such as why Gabe hadn’t been married to her mother or why they’d lived in different countries until Jenna was killed in a car accident that led to Emma coming to live with her father. Having to explain Quinn’s parentage would be no simpler task, and Gabe didn’t know enough to fill in the blanks for Jenna McAllister, whom he hadn’t seen since the weekend Emma was conceived.
“Perhaps we can wait until you’re a little older,” Gabe suggested. “Then we’ll be able to add your brother or sister to the family tree. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
“Would I get to come first?” Emma demanded. “I’m the oldest.”
“Of course you would be first,” Gabe assured her.
“Well, that’s all right then. We can wait until there’s a baby.”
Sylvia’s face lit up like a lantern. “Are you…?”
“Yes,” Quinn replied, blushing furiously. “It’s early days yet.”
“Congratulations, sis,” Logan exclaimed. “I never thought I’d get to be an uncle, and now I get a gorgeous niece and will have another niece or nephew to spoil. What’ya think, Jude?”
“Splendid,” Jude snarled. “Can’t wait.”
“Jude!” Sylvia cried. “What is wrong with you today?”
“Nothing.” Jude pushed his chair back with a vicious scrape and got up from the table. “I’m going out.” He turned so suddenly that his kaffieh moved aside, revealing purpling bruises on his neck. He quickly adjusted the scarf and fled the room without saying goodbye. Neither Sylvia nor Logan seemed to notice the bruises and carried on as if nothing had happened.
“Well, I think it’s time for pudding. What do you say, Emma? What’s your favorite?” Sylvia asked as she began clearing the dishes.
“I like ice cream.”
“And a lucky thing it is too, because I got ice cream in three different flavors and a sticky toffee pudding as well. Do you like that?”
“Not really. I’d like some ice cream, please,” Emma replied, remembering to be polite.
“Ice cream it is then. Coffee, anyone?” Sylvia asked, looking around the table.
“Tea for me,” Colin replied.
“Me as well,” Quinn added. She liked coffee, but now that she was pregnant, the bitterness gave her terrible indigestion and the caffeine made her jittery. The tea had caffeine as well, of course, but for some reason didn’t have the same effect.
Sylvia bustled off to the kitchen with Logan on her heels, and Colin joined them. Quinn turned to look at Gabe over Emma’s head, but he shook his head.
“Later,” he mouthed.
It wasn’t until Emma was safely tucked into bed that Quinn and Gabe finally got a chance to discuss the evening. “Well, that was a bit awkward, wouldn’t you say?” she asked him.
“Logan is a great bloke, and I’ve always liked Colin,” Gabe replied, leaving it at that.
“So what did you think of Sylvia now that you’ve met her in person?”
Gabe shrugged eloquently. “I don’t know, Quinn. It’s hard for me to trust her, given what I know. I will take my cues from you when it comes to her.”
“Fair enough. And Jude? Did you see those bruises?”
“Quinn, don’t get involved. Sylvia won’t appreciate it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that Jude is clearly a drug user. He kept pulling down his sleeves to hide the track marks on his forearms.”
“And the bruises on his neck? Do you think he’s been in a fight?” Quinn asked.
Gabe shook his head, an expression of pure skepticism on his handsome face. “No, darling. The bruises encircled his neck and were too even to be caused by someone grabbing him by the neck. I think they were left by a leather belt.”
“What? Why? Like a dog collar?”
“Maybe. Or more likely erotic asphyxiation. I’ve seen those types of bruises before. My roommate at uni was very fond of hanging himself off anything that would hold his weight. He said the orgasms were so powerful you could never go back to straight sex.”
“Oh, dear,” Quinn replied, shocked. “Whatever happened to him? Have I ever met him?”
“He died when he was nineteen. Took it too far one day and asphyxiated himself. I found him hanging off the back of the door, purple-faced, eyes popping out of his head, prick still in hand. Apparently hanging gives one a massive erection, or so the police surgeon said.”
“God. How old were you?”
“Eighteen. It was horrible. I couldn’t sleep for weeks. Kept seeing his face. I might have saved him had I come back to our room sooner, but I went to the library and was late getting back.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Gabe.”
“No, it wasn’t, but I still felt responsible somehow.”
“Don’t you think we should say something to Sylvia and Logan?” Quinn asked.
“They know,” Gabe replied. “Didn’t you notice how hard they tried to act normal?”
“But Logan is a nurse. He knows what could happen!”
“Yes, I’m sure he does,” Gabe said and pulled Quinn into his arms. “Let’s not talk about Jude anymore.”
She had let the subject drop, but couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d learned. She wished she’d made more of a connection with Jude, but there was time yet. She’d try to speak to Logan about Jude the next time they met. It was too touchy a subject to bring up over the telephone, and anyway, Jude left for Wales the week after their dinner and would be away until the beginning of May.
A text from Gabe startled Quinn from her reverie and brought her back to the present.
Gabe: Can you talk?
Q
uinn called Gabe’s mobile. It was so good to hear his voice. “Yes, I can talk,” she said.
“Did you meet with Seth Besson?” he asked without preamble.
“I did. He claims not to remember Sylvia or that night at Chatham Manor. He seemed genuine enough.”
“Did he give you a swab?”
“Yes. I overnighted it to Colin. Perhaps I should just leave, Gabe.” Quinn didn’t mean to get emotional but her voice shook as she tried to hold back the tears. “Will I never know the truth? I seem to be going in circles. If Seth isn’t a match, which seems a likely outcome, then who the hell is my father?”
“Quinn, come home,” Gabe pleaded. “Let this go. It doesn’t matter who your father is, and it doesn’t matter where you got your psychic ability. You are you, and nothing you discover will change that or give you any answers about our baby. If our child inherits your gift, then we will do our best to help him or her cope with it and learn how to control it.”
“I know. You are right, as usual, which is very annoying. I was just hoping to talk to someone who’s experienced the same thing, but I reckon that’s not to be.” She sniffled. “I’m officially giving up.”
“No more pursuing strange men?”
She heard the smile in his voice. “No more. I found one of my biological parents; I suppose that’ll have to do. And I have two brothers, which is something.”
“That’s two more brothers than I have,” Gabe joked. “Would have been nice to have a sibling. Speaking of which, how’s our little mite doing?”
“It’s doing well. I don’t even feel pregnant. The morning sickness seems to have passed, and now I’m hungry round the clock. I should get something to eat. I haven’t had lunch yet. But first, I’ll book a return flight.”
“I can’t wait to see you,” Gabe said. “It feels like you’ve been gone for months.”
“Yes, it does. So get off the phone and let me find a flight home,” she replied, smiling happily at his eagerness to have her back.
“I love you,” Gabe said, his voice so low and velvety it sent shivers down Quinn’s spine.
“I love you more.”
Chapter 4
Quinn zipped her packing case and checked her watch. She still had an hour until she had to leave for the airport. A long day lay ahead. She had been able to book a flight to London on Virgin Atlantic, but would have a nearly three-hour layover in Atlanta. By the time she arrived in London and cleared customs it would be close to midnight.
There was no point skulking in her room, so Quinn went down to the restaurant. Several people were enjoying breakfast on the patio, and the appetizing smell of their bacon and eggs made Quinn’s stomach growl. She ordered breakfast and a pot of tea and tucked in, seeing no reason to ignore the demands of her body. The baby needed nourishment and so did she. She’d lost a few pounds over the past few months, to the dismay of her doctor, but now she would gain them back. Quinn wasn’t overly concerned. Her only priority was the health of her baby.
She was buttering a piece of toast when her mobile rang. It was just after noon at home, so it wouldn’t be Gabe. He had a meeting scheduled and said he would be tied up until around three. She’d spoken to her parents the night before, and Phoebe wouldn’t call her unless she had some urgent wedding business to discuss. Quinn glanced at the caller ID, but the number wasn’t familiar. She considered ignoring the call, but changed her mind when she saw the exchange and realized it was a local call.
“Quinn, Seth Besson here,” the deep voice informed her.
“Good morning, Seth.” Quinn wondered why he was calling her. She hadn’t heard from Colin yet, but had decided not to wait around. There seemed little point.
“I have the results of the paternity test,” Seth said. “My ex-wife works at a hospital. We’re on fairly good terms, so I asked her to pull a few strings and get this expedited. I just wanted to put your mind at rest, and my own.”
“Thank you for taking the trouble. I’m actually going home today, so I guess this is goodbye.”
“Quinn, we’re a match,” Seth said, a catch in his voice. He sounded as shocked as she felt. She’d automatically assumed he was calling to confirm the result was negative. She hadn’t expected this.
“Are we?”
“Ninety-nine percent.”
Quinn reached for her teacup and took a gulp of scalding tea, burning her tongue. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m sorry I dismissed you. I was telling the truth when I said I didn’t remember Sylvia. I really didn’t, and honestly, I still don’t remember anything about her. I called Robert Chatham last night. We haven’t spoken in thirty years, but I needed to know if what you suggested was true.”
“And is it?”
“Look, Quinn, can we meet and speak in person? Please.”
“I’m leaving for the airport in less than an hour,” she replied, unsure what to do.
“Please don’t go. There’s so much we need to talk about. I’d like to get to know you, if that’s okay. I’m coming to pick you up. Where’re you staying?”
“I’m at the Omni Royal Orleans Hotel.”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
Quinn set her mobile down on the table and pushed away her plate. The thought of food suddenly turned her stomach. Seth was a match. A ninety-nine percent match. Well, he had to be, given that she had ruled out everyone else, but he’d been so vehement in his denial she’d thought for sure Sylvia had lied to her again. And he’d called Robert Chatham. Quinn briefly wondered if Chatham had told Seth of their meeting in Edinburgh, but it was irrelevant. She wouldn’t apologize for what she’d done. In retrospect, her strategy with Robert Chatham had been misguided, but she’d learned her lesson, and approached Seth Besson openly and honestly, if only to avoid another misunderstanding.
Seth Besson is my father. Quinn wasn’t at all sure how she felt about this newfound knowledge. What if the results were a mistake?
She rang Colin. He would have called her if he had the results, but she had to speak to him nevertheless. He was her colleague and friend, and Logan’s boyfriend. He would be honest with her. He always was. The call went straight to voicemail and Quinn hung up in frustration. Colin rarely answered the phone when at work. As a pathologist, he was elbow deep in a postmortem most days. In any case, he would have passed her samples on to the lab, which would take at least another day or two, even if he put a rush on it.
Quinn abandoned her breakfast and headed back to her room to cancel her flight. Her hand shook as she booted up her laptop and brought up the Virgin Atlantic website. Despite Seth’s revelation she still longed to go home. She’d come to find her father and learn the truth at last, but suddenly she was overcome with an overwhelming sense of unease. The thought of seeing Seth in a few minutes made her mouth go dry with nervousness. Her father. Her actual biological father who might hold the key to her ability to commune with the dead.
Quinn canceled the flight and shut the lid of her laptop before going to the bathroom. She stared at herself in the mirror. She looked pale and anxious, her hazel eyes huge in her face. Her normally wavy hair was curling every which way and frizzing from the constant humidity. Quinn wound her hair and pinned it on top of her head in an artful bun, leaving a few tendrils around her face to soften the look. She applied a bit of lipstick and refreshed her mascara. She still looked haunted, but at least she wouldn’t appear like she was the one doing the haunting.
Her mobile, which she’d left on the vanity next to the sink, began to vibrate. Colin.
“Hi, Colin,” Quinn began. “I—”
“Quinn, sorry I haven’t rung you sooner. A personal crisis, but more on that later. I have the results of your paternity test. I asked Sarita to take it to the lab personally and wait while they processed the samples. Quinn, it’s a match. This man is your father. No doubt about it.”
“I know.”
“How on earth do you know?” Colin demanded, as though annoyed to have been beaten t
o the punch.
“Seems you’re not the only one with useful contacts. He called me this morning.”
“Congratulations?” Colin made it more of a question than a statement, and Quinn suddenly felt lighter. She laughed and walked out of the bathroom, ready to face whatever the day brought.
“Yes. Thank you, Colin. Congratulations are in order. Did you say you had a personal crisis?”
“Never mind. It’s all sorted. You go and find your roots.” Quinn heard the mirth in his voice. “Speak soon.”
She hung up and texted Gabe.
Quinn: Seth is a match. Staying on for a few days. Will keep you posted. Love you.
**
“How are you feeling?” Quinn asked Seth as he held the car door for her. “You’re still recuperating from surgery. I should have taken a taxi to your house instead of having you collect me at the hotel.”
“Oh, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. I must admit, I’m overwhelmed. A daughter!” Seth said, his voice filled with wonder. “Kathy had a mouthful. That’s my ex-wife. Said I’m even more irresponsible than she thought, and wanted to know how many more children I have scattered throughout the world.”
He got into the car and pulled away from the curb, heading toward the Garden District. “Look, Quinn, I can only imagine what you must think of me, given the eh…circumstances, but please give me a fair chance. I’m not a violent person, nor am I someone who disrespects women. I have no clear memory of that night, but in my gut, I know I didn’t do what you’re accusing me of. I obviously had sex with this woman—your very existence proves that—but it had to be consensual. It had to be,” he added, his tone desperate.
Quinn had absolutely no reason to trust him, but something in his eyes told her he genuinely believed what he was telling her and he was desperate for Quinn to not think badly of him. “Give me time,” she replied.
The Unforgiven (Echoes from the Past Book 3) Page 3