The Little Teashop of Lost and Found

by Trisha Ashley

  ‘Nile, there’s a bottle of champagne in the fridge – go and open it at once!’ she commanded. ‘And, Geeta, find the best glasses – this calls for a toast!’

  I went into the village shop to buy stamps and when I emerged, I saw Emily Rhymer on the other side of the road, with one of those over-large rough-haired dogs she favours. She stopped and gave me a very strange stare, then nodded as if she’d just confirmed something she’d only previously suspected, before walking off.

  Of course the Rhymers, a local clan, were all a little odd, but Emily more so than the rest. Still, I felt somewhat unsettled by this, since she was the woman I’d passed in the lane leading to the Oldstone that night so many years ago …

  But then, even if she had her suspicions, without proof she could hardly come out and accuse me after such a length of time, and I suspect that gossiping is a pastime just as alien and incomprehensible to her as it is to me.

  45

  Mixed Messages

  ‘I’m still overwhelmed that suddenly I’ve got a family of my own – and Sheila was so very generous about it,’ I said to Nile next morning.

  I’d been so overcome by emotion and champagne that I’d hardly slept and we were the first down to breakfast other than Sheila; there were signs that she’d already eaten and gone to her studio.

  ‘She’s honestly delighted. It wouldn’t be in her nature not to be,’ he assured me. ‘The only thing that upset her was that Paul didn’t know about your mother being pregnant, so she had to cope alone. Or not cope, considering what happened.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound like Dr Collins, does it? I mean, the whole scenario doesn’t seem to chime with anything I know about her character.’

  ‘But she was a teenager at the time, not the woman you’ve met now,’ he pointed out. ‘We all do silly things when we’re young.’

  ‘I still find it hard to accept that she’s my mother – but then, I have to agree with Sheila that she’s really the only candidate. I don’t see how I can find out, though, without asking her straight out, and she’s scary.’

  ‘If it is her, she’s obviously not going to come forward and contact you, or she’d have done it by now,’ he said, putting a freshly brewed cup of coffee down in front of me and pushing the toast and butter nearer.

  I was thinking. ‘I wonder … remember I told you that Emily Rhymer originally suspected a girl from Upvale of being the driver of the Mini that passed her in the early hours of the morning, after I was abandoned?’

  ‘Yes, but didn’t she see her later the same day, going about things perfectly normally?’

  ‘She did … but if the girl was Dr Collins, then she was probably as cold and self-contained then as she is now, and wouldn’t show any emotion, would she?’

  ‘I suppose it’s possible,’ he conceded.

  ‘So if I ring Emily up and tell her who I suspect is my mother, maybe she’ll confirm or deny that that’s the person she was thinking of?’

  ‘Perhaps she will – but isn’t the entire Giddings clan enough family for you?’ he asked, raising one eyebrow.

  ‘Oh, more than enough!’ I exclaimed. ‘But still, I just want to know the whole of it, having got this far.’

  And when I got Em on the phone later and told her what we’d found out, then asked her point-blank if Dr Collins was the girl she’d suspected of being my mother, she confirmed it.

  ‘I thought it was her straight away, because she was seventeen and her father had just bought her a new Mini after she passed her driving test. And there was something else that made me think: when the police had finally finished with us and we were going home, I noticed the iron gates in front of the Collinses’ house were closed, but they’d been open when I’d walked past them earlier.’

  ‘But then you saw her later that day and thought it couldn’t have been her after all?’ I prompted.

  ‘That’s right. She was getting petrol and she looked pale and serious – but then, she always did. There was nothing to show … So anyway, I thought I must have been mistaken.’

  She paused and then said slowly, ‘Gloria remembered where she’d seen light green eyes like yours – Liz Collins’ mother had them. Liz didn’t inherit them, hers are blue, but they’re obviously in the family.’

  ‘Really? That sounds a bit of a clincher,’ I said. ‘I don’t know where the red hair came from, but I got my height from the Giddings side … and frankly, I’m finding all of this a bit much to take in!’

  ‘I’m not surprised, but I’m glad the Giddingses welcomed you into the family. We Rhymers are an oddly linked bunch ourselves,’ she said, but didn’t explain in what way.

  ‘Yes, but we’ll have to keep the relationship as a family secret, because Sheila pointed out that if we went public with it, other people who were around at the time I was conceived might put two and two together and guess who my mother was, too.’

  ‘My lips are sealed,’ she said. ‘Are you going to ask Liz Collins outright if she’s your mother?’

  I shuddered. ‘I can’t imagine doing that – and she’d probably deny it, or threaten me with legal action for defamation of character, or something. No,’ I finished. ‘I don’t really see how I can, without actual proof, and there isn’t any.’

  ‘There’s an awful lot of circumstantial evidence, though,’ Em said. ‘I’d ask her.’

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ I said.

  I gave the family the gist of all this over Sunday lunch. Nile, of course, thought I ought to let the matter lie now, but the rest of the family were in two minds.

  ‘If she’s your mother, I’d like to tell her that I’m so sorry Paul didn’t know she was pregnant, because I’m positive that if he had, he wouldn’t have just abandoned her and walked away,’ said Sheila, soft-hearted as ever.

  ‘I don’t think she’s been brooding about it for the last thirty-six years: in fact, I’d say she put it right out of her head and got on with her life,’ Bel said. ‘She has to know about you being back and opening the teashop, Alice, so she’s chosen not to contact you.’

  ‘It would be good to tie up the last loose ends, even if she doesn’t want to acknowledge you in public,’ suggested Teddy. ‘I’m going to add you to the family tree this afternoon, but I’ll have to leave your maternal side out of things until we do know for certain. There’s a chance some of your maternal relatives might sign up to the DNA database later too, so we can trace her that way.’

  ‘I think I need time to get used to being part of the Giddings family before I ask her,’ I said.

  ‘I’d like to tell everyone that you’re really Alice Giddings!’ said Sheila.

  ‘Yes, me too,’ Nile agreed, and then favoured me with one of his more enigmatic and unnerving smiles.

  After lunch, Nile went over to World’s End Antiques, where his friend Rick had a couple of items for him to look at, while I stayed at Oldstone and went through the family photograph albums with Sheila.

  It was amazing to think that this was now my family too – something I’d never had!

  Now we knew about the relationship, my resemblance to some of the ancestors was very obvious and made me feel very strange, but also connected in a way I’d never been before.

  Later, as I drove home over the moors to Haworth, despite what I’d said earlier to Teddy, the feeling slowly grew inside me that I couldn’t just leave it at that. It didn’t matter if my mother publicly acknowledged me or not: I just wanted to know.

  So the moment I got back to the flat I sat down at my desk to write a letter.

  It took several attempts and over an hour before I was satisfied that I’d got the tone right.

  Dear Dr Collins,

  Having discovered through DNA testing that my father was Paul Giddings of Oldstone Farm, strong circumstantial evidence points to your being my natural mother. Since you didn’t come forward to contact me after the newspaper article, I assume you don’t wish to acknowledge me, but truly I don’t want anything from you, except just the
certainty of having this confirmed. Then the matter will be closed and the information will go no further.

  I hoped that sounded unthreatening and reasonable.

  Then I added my contact details, sealed the letter in an envelope marked ‘Strictly Personal’ and enclosed it inside another addressed to her at the surgery.

  It was dark when I let myself out of the teashop door, the letter in my hand … at exactly the wrong moment, because Nile was just emerging from the passage, heading for Small and Perfect.

  ‘Hello,’ he said, surprised. ‘Where are you off to?’

  I might have asked what business it was of his, but instead I replied feebly, ‘I’m going for a walk.’

  ‘Isn’t it a bit … dark? And cold? It’s trying to sleet.’ Then he came up closer and eyed me suspiciously in the light from the lamp over the door. ‘What are you up to?’

  ‘Nothing, I just wanted some fresh air,’ I said. ‘And I’ve got something to post, so I thought I’d do it now.’

  ‘Give me a minute to drop my bag off in the shop and I’ll come with you.’

  ‘Oh, don’t bother, I won’t be long and—’

  But he wasn’t listening and having pushed his bag through the door of Small and Perfect and locked up again, led the way out of Doorknocker’s Row.

  ‘So … you’re going to post a letter, but it doesn’t seem to have a stamp on it,’ he observed, as we walked down the street. ‘By which I deduce that you’re going to stick it through a letter box – just call me Sherlock. And let me take another inspired guess: it’s for Dr Collins?’

  ‘All right, it is,’ I admitted. ‘But I’ve only asked her to say yes or no to whether she’s my mother, nothing else.’

  ‘You realize if it isn’t true and you persist in trying to contact her, she could very well report you to the police for stalking, or something?’

  ‘This will be my only attempt because the evidence all points to her, doesn’t it? What Em Rhymer said clinches it.’

  ‘Yes, so why not let it lie there?’ he asked, then tried to persuade me out of posting my note, though that had the unfortunate effect of making me turn stubborn.

  Mind you, the moment I’d popped it through the letter box of the surgery, I wished I could snatch it back again, but it was too late.

  We set off back by a roundabout route that brought us to the top of the village and the quiet churchyard. I was so preoccupied with my thoughts that at some point, without my noticing, Nile had put his arm around me.

  ‘Infuriating woman,’ he said, stopping suddenly and looking down at me. ‘You know there’s a good chance she won’t respond to that letter at all?’

  ‘It’s still worth a go, but even if she won’t talk to me, at least I now know I’m a Giddings.’

  ‘Yes, and it’s just as well I’m only one by name, because I’ve never felt less brotherly in my life,’ he said with some force.

  ‘Yes, so you said before,’ I told him and he made an exasperated noise before pulling me close and kissing me senseless.

  My response was instinctive and his grip tightened crushingly.

  Time stood still and probably several planets collided and stars moved out of their orbits.

  Finally, he was the one to break contact and stared down at me sombrely. ‘Edie told me to give you time … and Lola warned me that unless I was serious about you, I should leave you alone.’

  ‘That was good advice,’ I murmured, still half-dazed. My arms seemed to be around his neck, even though I had no recollection of putting them there, and my knees had totally dissolved. It was just as well he was still holding me.

  ‘Which bit?’ he asked.

  ‘The “leaving me alone unless you’re serious” part.’

  ‘But I am – I think I love you!’

  ‘Think isn’t good enough,’ I snapped, coming back to life and belatedly trying to push him away.

  ‘All right: if you really want me to wear my heart on my sleeve, I admit I fell in love with you the first time I set eyes on you, standing on a chair in the café and wearing that hideous mobcap. It just took me time to realize it, because I’d never felt that way before.’

  I stared up at what I could see of him. He sounded serious.

  ‘I think we could really make a go of it, Alice,’ he added softly. ‘Let’s give it a try?’

  He didn’t define what he wanted us to try … but it sounded like I’d be on a kind of trial, to be returned in my original packaging if unsuitable for his purpose.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ I said. ‘You have a name for backing off at the moment your girlfriends expect a bit of commitment, remember? And anyway, do I really want a man I can’t leave alone for five minutes, without coming back to find him draped in strange women?’

  And twisting suddenly out of his grip, I set off for home at such a pace that we were almost back before he caught up with me.

  ‘Alice …?’ he said and his voice sounded as if he was laughing. I went straight in and closed the door with a slam.

  Then I leaned against it and cried and cried, though I’m not sure why. So much had happened in so short a time, so many life-changing things: I expect it was all just too much for me.

  Surprisingly once I got to bed I slept well and then, since next morning was a Monday when we were closed, Tilda appeared and threw herself into a deep cleaning session as if it was a high treat. Not that she and Daisy hadn’t left it clean as a new pin on Saturday evening, but she wasn’t satisfied and scoured the place, then began giving the fridge, oven and microwave an extra good going-over.

  I could have done with having her scour Nile out of my heart, too, because he seemed to have established himself there without my wanting him to in the least. While I was running through the checklist of tasks I’d need to do so we were ready to open the teashop next day, my mind kept going back to what he’d said last night.

  Thinking he loved me just wasn’t good enough … and suggesting we give our relationship a go was hardly the romantic proposal of a girl’s dreams. But if he’d asked me whether I loved him, what would I have said? Would my subconscious have popped up like a jack-in-the-box and yelled, ‘Yes, yes! I’ll settle for whatever you give me – take me, I’m yours’?

  It took my mind off worrying about how Dr Collins was going to react – or if she would react. She’d probably read the letter by now, and if we’d got it all totally wrong and she wasn’t my mother, maybe she was even at this moment ringing her solicitor to sue me for defamation of character, or something like that.

  I checked for messages and emails about every ten minutes, not really expecting anything – but then suddenly, late in the afternoon, up popped a text.

  At the Oldstone, dawn tomorrow. Don’t tell anyone and come alone – I will not talk to you before witnesses.

  I am horrified that Alice has somehow discovered her true father and my long-ago connection with him. I must move quickly to scotch this story before rumours spread like a new creature springing from that original monstrous birth. Alice must be made to understand my position and tell anyone she has confided in that she was mistaken.

  Father, despite all my efforts, is fast deteriorating, both mentally and physically. I think once he acknowledged to himself that he was losing his faculties, he metaphorically turned his face to the wall.

  Though continuing to ensure he has the best care money can buy, I now long for the day I inherit and can leave this place and the memory of what happened for ever. I will leave Hugo here for ever too – after my father, the person he is most attached to is the housekeeper, Kim, so I will make her a leaving present of him.

  I have informed the letting agency that they must now take my villa in Portugal off their books, for I wish to have it entirely refurbished with a view to moving there permanently at some not-too-distant date.

  46

  On the Rocks

  The message was terse, but it at least confirmed we’d been right, for she wouldn’t have suggested a meeting if she w
asn’t my natural mother. And tomorrow she would reveal how she came to abandon me at that godforsaken spot.

  I shivered. I was sure this would be a one-off meeting, because I’d reluctantly forced her hand by my persistence, and I was certain she wasn’t going to fall on my neck like a character in a Victorian novel, crying, ‘At last, dear child, I can hold you in my arms!’

  I set the alarm for a ridiculous hour of the morning and intended going to bed early, though I wasn’t sure just how much sleep I would get that night.

  But what I didn’t bargain for was Nile texting me to say we needed to talk and he’d collect me on the way to the pub in ten minutes. It never seemed to enter his head that I might be doing something else.

  I replied that there was nothing left to say and reminded him I had to be up early to bake fresh scones and cakes, but he just said we needn’t stay long, and stopped answering my messages.

  It was easier to go than argue the toss on the doorstep, but I might have known he’d guess I had something on my mind other than the events of last night, not to mention the sudden revelation that I had a family of my own …

  I avoided the dangerous ground of the first and focused on the latter. ‘Sheila’s taken to ringing and asking me how her new daughter is today!’ I told him brightly. ‘She’s so kind – I mean, lots of women wouldn’t be very happy to discover their husband had an illegitimate child.’

  ‘You’ve already said that twice tonight, by which I deduce you’ve got something else on your mind,’ he said shrewdly. ‘Let me take a stab in the dark: has Dr Collins got in touch with you?’

  He knew me too well …

  I didn’t reply, but my face must have given me away, because he said, ‘I see she has – so you’d better tell me about it!’

  ‘Oh, all right, but it’s a secret because she warned me not to tell anyone else.’

  I got out my phone and showed him the message.

  ‘Why there and at such a godforsaken time of the morning?’ he demanded.