The Forgotten (Echoes from the Past Book 2)

by Irina Shapiro

  “Right. Thanks, Mum.”

  “What exactly does she mean by ‘dealt with’?” Quinn asked after they hung up the phone.

  “I dare not ask,” Gabe replied, still chuckling. “But I never underestimate my mother. If Mrs. Edwards is suddenly banned from doing flowers for the church or isn’t invited to the next book club meeting, we know who to blame. My mother can be ruthless.”

  “I better behave then,” Quinn quipped.

  “Yes, you’d better. And speaking of spanked bottoms…” Quinn squealed as Gabe lightly smacked her bum, leaving her in no doubt as to his immediate plans.

  **

  Quinn glanced at her watch. She was a bit early. She could go in, but she had no desire to see any of her colleagues, so she decided to wait outside instead. She found an empty bench and settled in to wait for Gabe. She needed to ring Sylvia and check in with Jill. Jill seemed in better spirits the last few days, fueled by Quinn’s idea and looking for suppliers who might help her implement it. And Sylvia had left a message, asking Quinn to ring her back. Quinn was just rummaging in her handbag for her mobile when someone sat down on the bench next to her.

  “Don’t even think of leaving,” the man said as his fingers closed around her wrist as she tried to flee. “I’d like a word.”

  Quinn threw Robert Chatham a look of defiance and prayed that Gabe would come out early and rescue her. Chatham looked angry, and given that he’d found her despite her giving him a false name, she could understand why. That whole episode left her cringing with shame, both at the memory of Chatham’s advances and her own behavior. Perhaps it was best if Gabe didn’t see them talking to each other.

  “How can I help you, Mr. Chatham?” Quinn asked, striving for composure. She wasn’t really scared since they were seated in the middle of a public park filled with passersby, but the man made her uneasy.

  Chatham turned toward her and studied her for a few moments, his gaze filled more with curiosity than hostility. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to talk.” He finally let go of her wrist once he was satisfied that she wasn’t about to run off.

  “I had a pleasant chat with Monica Fielding yesterday. She had a lot to say once your name came up. Did you think I wouldn’t find out who you are, Dr. Allenby?” he asked, amused by Quinn’s startled expression. “Once I Googled Monica Fielding, I had no trouble finding your profile on the institute website. So, let’s skip the polite chit-chat and get to the point. Why would a well-respected archeologist seek me out? And you did seek me out. You targeted me.”

  Quinn pinned Robert Chatham with her gaze, impressed by how quickly he caught up to her. The man clearly didn’t make idle threats. He gave her a pleasant smile, raising one eyebrow to emphasize that he was waiting for an answer.

  “Do you really want to know?” Quinn asked. She sounded calmer than she felt, but would not run from a confrontation with this man. She had nothing to lose, not anymore. “Thirty-one years ago, you invited a girl to a party at your house where you and two of your mates drugged and assaulted her. I was born nine months later. I targeted you because I thought you might be my biological father.”

  “So, you accepted the invitation to my room to see if you could find any DNA?” Chatham asked. He looked amused, which annoyed Quinn, who had hoped for some expression of remorse.

  “Yes. I wanted to know for sure.”

  “And do you?”

  “Not a match.” Chatham looked momentarily relieved, but then burst out laughing.

  “You’re a lot feistier than your mother ever was; I’ll give you that.”

  “Don’t you talk about my mother,” Quinn cried, furious at his levity. Robert Chatham tilted his head to the side and studied her, his mouth twitching with suppressed humor.

  “Oh, let me guess. Poor Sylvia spun you a grim tale in which Snow White gets drugged and shagged by the evil dwarfs. Well, let me tell you, Princess, that’s not how it happened. Your mother had a reputation for being a slag, which is why I invited her in the first place. I wanted to have a merry Christmas, if you know what I mean. She could have refused the champagne, but she didn’t. She drank glass after glass, until she could barely stand. The other two girls offered her a ride home, but she decided to stay. She wanted to stay. She was so far gone, there was no need to drug her, not that I would have. That’s simply not my style. I like my women conscious. I kissed her and she kissed me back. She let me touch her and put my hand down her jeans. She liked it. She got a bit upset when Seth joined in, but she never asked us to stop. She was flattered by the attention. Surprised?” he asked, grinning at Quinn who looked mutinous.

  “You’re a liar,” Quinn hissed.

  “Am I? Are you sure?” Robert Chatham chuckled. “Rhys was a bit reluctant. He always was something of a coward, but by the time Seth and I were finished with Sylvia, one more bloke wouldn’t have made any difference. She just lay there, legs spread, just begging for it. We egged Rhys on; I admit that, but he didn’t need much persuading. It was his chance to lose his virginity at last, and with someone who was too piss-drunk to laugh him out of the room.”

  Chatham caught Quinn deftly by the wrist when she tried to slap him. “And that’s not the worst of it, Sunshine. Sylvia clearly never told you that there was a fourth man.”

  “What?” Quinn breathed. “You are saying that just to be cruel.”

  Chatham shook his head. “No, I’m not. Ask Sylvia. There’s a reason why she never breathed a word of this to anyone.”

  “Who was he? Was he a friend of yours?” Quinn demanded.

  “No, he wasn’t, and he wasn’t there that night, but he’d shagged her, repeatedly; you can be sure of that.”

  Quinn looked away as tears of anger and betrayal stung her eyes. She wanted to believe that Chatham was lying, but something in his eyes told her that he was telling the truth. Sylvia had lied to her, had omitted information for a reason. It was her word against Chatham’s on whether she was raped or had sex with the boys willingly, but she’d clearly chosen not to tell Quinn the whole story.

  Quinn yanked her hand away when Robert Chatham took it in his. His expression had softened, and he looked at her with an expression of compassion and admiration.

  “You could have just asked me, you know,” he said, his voice low.

  “And would you have agreed to be tested?” Quinn retorted. She was trying not to cry, and it was easier to keep a rein on her emotions if she were angry.

  “I’m not a good man, Quinn; I freely admit that. I’ve made mistakes, and I’ve hurt people intentionally, but had you been honest, I would have gladly given you a swab with my saliva.”

  “Why would you do that?” Quinn asked, her eyes narrowed as she finally met Chatham’s gaze.

  “Because I’ve learned that you must pay for everything in this life, and if the bill for that night came in the shape of a daughter like you, then I would have been proud that something good came out of it. I know that you are relieved that I’m not your father, and you probably have every right to be, but I must say that I’m a bit disappointed.”

  Quinn gaped at Chatham. She hadn’t expected such a dramatic change in his attitude, nor did she think the man had any redeeming qualities, but perhaps she’d judged him too harshly. She still didn’t know the entire truth of that night, and until she did, she would reserve judgment.

  “Tell me about Seth,” Quinn asked.

  “There’s not much to tell. I lost touch with Seth years ago, after he went back to the States. He was a good bloke. He had that sense of fun that Americans so often have. No inhibitions, no reservations, and no apologies. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble tracking him down; it’s easy enough these days, but I’d talk to Sylvia first. I think you need to be in full possession of the facts.”

  Robert Chatham gave Quinn a rueful smile as he got to his feet. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Princess. Perhaps life will throw you in my path again one of these days. Good luck with your search.”

  Quinn w
atched as Robert Chatham walked away, his shoulders squared and his stride purposeful. She glared at the mobile that glinted in the sunshine in her open handbag. She would have to hold off on calling Sylvia until she felt calmer.

  Quinn looked up and saw Gabe emerging from the building. He must have been rushing to meet her because his coat was unbuttoned, and his scarf was slung carelessly around his neck. He was patting his pockets to check if he’d taken his mobile and wallet. Gabe smiled and waved, and Quinn promptly burst into tears.

  Chapter 44

  March 2014

  Lingfield, Surrey

  Quinn threw another log on the fire and settled on the sofa with her glass of wine. It felt good to be home. She’d missed her little chapel. It was the place where she felt most at peace, despite all the turmoil in her life. The flames licked and stroked the logs, filling the room with a pleasant smell of wood smoke. Quinn took a sip of wine, but it brought her no pleasure, so she set it aside. Perhaps she’d have a cup of tea instead. She went to put the kettle on and looked in the fridge. The milk had gone off, again, so she poured it down the sink, wrinkling her nose at the smell. She’d have to drink her tea black, but there was a half-full tin of biscuits in the cupboard, left over from her last shopping spree, which was a fortuitous find since she was feeling peckish. She was always hungry these days.

  Quinn glanced at her mobile. Gabe remained in London with Emma, since this was something Quinn needed to do alone, and she preferred to do it in a place where she felt in control and expected no interruptions. And there was another reason. Quinn wanted to give Gabe time alone with Emma. He was still nervous about being on his own with her, and this would be a good opportunity for Gabe to prove to himself that he was perfectly capable of taking care of his daughter. It would take time for Gabe to get comfortable with his new role, but he had to start somewhere and look after Emma without using his parents or Quinn as a crutch.

  There was a text from Gabe, assuring Quinn that everything was just fine. They had plenty of snacks and were about to watch Cinderella on DVD. Emma was already in full Disney regalia, wearing her Cinderella gown and tiara. Quinn smiled at the photo Gabe sent of the two of them sitting side by side, matching smiles on their faces. Emma had been sorry to leave her grandparents and Buster, but she seemed to be settling into her new home, and her new bedroom was a big hit.

  Quinn set aside the phone when she heard the crunch of tires on gravel followed by the slamming of a door. She was nervous and suddenly wished that she hadn’t requested this meeting. Did she really want to know? Gabe tried to reason with her and talk her out of confronting Sylvia, but Quinn needed to know. As someone who spent her life unearthing the past, she felt compelled to examine her own. She got to her feet and went to the door, opening it just before Sylvia had a chance to knock. Sylvia stood outside, an eager smile on her face. Quinn only told her that she wanted to meet, so Sylvia assumed that Quinn wanted to spend some quality time with her.

  “Quinn, it’s wonderful to see you,” Sylvia gushed as she leaned in to give Quinn a peck on the cheek. “I heard you met Logan. What a coincidence. It’s such a small world, isn’t it? And Colin is such a lovely boy, not like the thug Logan was seeing before. Every mother wants a doctor for her son,” she added with a smile, “even if he only doctors the dead.”

  “Colin searches for answers,” Quinn replied. “Closure is important.”

  “Of course, it is. Is that Chardonnay?” Sylvia asked as she hung up her coat and scarf and accepted a seat on the sofa. “I love the smell of burning wood. We used to have a fireplace in the house where the boys grew up, but I don’t have one in my flat.”

  Quinn poured Sylvia a glass of wine and refreshed her own tea before joining her on the sofa. She knew she had to say something, but Sylvia’s excitement at seeing her made her even more reluctant to broach the subject.

  “I was so happy when you called. I know you’ve been busy, but it’s been over a month since we last saw each other. Jude will be home next week, so I thought perhaps we can put something on the calendar. I so want you to meet him. And I would love to finally meet Gabe,” Sylvia added, her eyes sliding to Quinn’s engagement ring.

  “Sylvia, I asked you here because I wanted to speak to you in private,” Quinn began. Her mouth was dry and she wished that she could just forget the whole thing and spend a pleasant hour chatting with Sylvia, but she needed to know the truth, no matter how distasteful. Sylvia was her biological mother, and Quinn needed to know that she could trust her before she could begin to get involved in a relationship with her.

  “What about?” Sylvia asked, sipping her wine.

  “I saw Robert Chatham a few days ago,” Quinn said, her eyes never leaving Sylvia’s face. Sylvia paled slightly, but tried to smile nonchalantly.

  “Oh? And how did that come about?”

  “I had a paternity test done. He’s not my father.”

  “I see,” Sylvia said. She was no longer smiling, her expression closed and her hands folded in her lap. “You don’t waste any time, do you?”

  “Sylvia, I want to ask you a question, and I need you to give me an honest answer. There can be no future for us if we can’t be honest with each other.”

  “All right.”

  “Chatham said that there was a fourth man who might be my father. Is that true?”

  Quinn expected Sylvia to deny the accusation, but she seemed to shrink into herself, staring into the fire as if she could find an answer in the flames. She suddenly looked older than her forty-eight years, her expression one of utter defeat. Quinn hadn’t realized how badly she wanted Sylvia to deny the existence of a fourth man until she saw the slump of her shoulders and the sudden pursing of the lips, giving Quinn the answer she needed.

  “Yes, there was a fourth man,” Sylvia finally admitted, pinning Quinn with her gaze. “I didn’t tell you about him because I didn’t want you to think badly of me. Telling you that you had three possible fathers was hard enough.”

  “Who was he, Sylvia? Was he a friend of Robert Chatham?”

  “No.”

  Sylvia reached for her glass and finished the wine in one long gulp before reaching for the bottle and refilling her glass. She was clearly upset, but Quinn felt surprisingly calm. Now that it was out in the open, she felt a strange sense of detachment instead of the pain of betrayal she expected to feel. She was there simply to learn the facts.

  “I told you that my father and I moved after my mother left us,” Sylvia began.

  “Yes.”

  “I was new to the village, and it’s not easy to make friends when you are a teenage girl. You know how cliquey women can be. I was lonely, especially at the weekends, since no one included me in their plans. I spent a lot of time reading and watching television to pass the time.”

  Sylvia stole a peek at Quinn then carried on with her story. “My father hired Steven to make deliveries for him since he couldn’t leave the shop unattended, and I was too young to drive. There were several deliveries each week, and sometimes Steven took me along with my father’s blessing. He said I needed to get out of the house, so I did. At first, I didn’t really want to go, but as I got to know Steven, I began to enjoy spending time with him. He was easy-going and made me laugh. One thing lead to another,” Sylvia said, shrugging her shoulders.

  “Were you in love with him?” Quinn asked, wondering why Sylvia had been reluctant to talk about him.

  “I suppose I was infatuated with him for a time, but he was married, you see. He had two children. I was nothing more than a plaything for him, an amusing diversion. When I told him that I was pregnant, he told me to sort it out on my own and stopped taking my calls. He was afraid I’d destroy his marriage.”

  “And how did Robert Chatham know about you two?” Quinn asked.

  “Steven did some work on the Chatham estate, as gardener and handy man. He must have let something slip.”

  Which was why Robert Chatham thought Sylvia was easy pickings when he invited her
to his house that night, Quinn thought, but didn’t say anything out loud.

  “Is there a possibility that he’s my father?” Quinn asked.

  “I hadn’t been with Steven for several weeks before that night at Robert Chatham’s house. His wife had the flu, so he was otherwise engaged, taking care of his girls,” Sylvia said, her tone bitter. “I suppose it’s possible, but you were born exactly nine months after that night. You could have come late, of course. I never even thought of that.”

  “So why did you tell him you were pregnant if you didn’t think he was responsible?” Quinn asked, probing for holes in Sylvia’s story.

  “I was young and scared, and I hoped that he would help me, or at least offer me some support. I never expected him to leave his wife and children; I just wanted to know that he cared. But he cut me dead instead. I was too much of a threat to his home life.”

  Sylvia angrily wiped away the tears that had begun to slide down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Quinn. I’m not the mother you deserve. I royally cocked things up, but I paid for my stupidity, and I continue to pay for it. That night has haunted me my whole life, and it will be the undoing of any relationship I might hope to have with you. I better go,” Sylvia said as she sprang to her feet.

  “Sylvia, wait,” Quinn said. She’d been angry after speaking to Robert Chatham, but now all she felt was pity for this woman who’d allowed a bunch of callous, cruel men to ruin her life. She’d be damned if she allowed them to continue to cause damage.

  “Sylvia, I don’t think badly of you. We all make mistakes, and you’ve paid for yours. I don’t care what you did and with whom. I only wanted to know the truth.”

  “Thank you,” Sylvia said as the tears began to flow again. “Quinn, I know that you feel driven to know who your father is, but for God’s sake, please, let it go. Nothing good can come of it. These men are not worthy of having you for a daughter, and whether you were fathered by Steven Kane or Seth Besson, you are the person that you are, and nothing will change that. Learning the truth will only cause you pain.”