by Miranda Lee
Gemma raced after him, arriving in the doorway in time to see him slump down into the armchair in the far corner and lift a half-empty bottle of vodka to his lips. He drank long and hard, eyeing her quite fiercely now over the bottle.
'What happened to all those people you work with?' he challenged when he jerked the bottle away. 'Why couldn't you have gone to one of them?'
She shrugged helplessly. 'I don't know. I didn't think of them.'
'Instead, you thought of Damian Campbell, the last man on earth any husband would want his wife near.'
Gemma fell silent. She was not going to argue with Nathan on this score, but neither was she going to agree with him.
'It's all immaterial anyway,' he muttered darkly, then took another swallow from the bottle. 'As I said before, we're finished. You can have your divorce, and whatever else you want. You'll get no arguments from me.'
'But I don't want a divorce!' she protested wretchedly.
'Don't be so bloody ridiculous,' he scorned. 'No woman would stay married to a man who did what I did yesterday. I dare say you couldn't wait to tell everyone what a disgusting creature you married.'
Gemma flinched, then decided to lie. 'I've told no one, Nathan,' she said huskily. 'No one.'
His eyes narrowed till they were cold slits of steel. 'Byron doesn't know?'
'No.'
He actually shuddered, his obvious distress and self disgust tearing Gemma's heart out. She rushed forward, dropping to her knees beside his chair, grabbing his free hand.
'Let's forget what happened yesterday, Nathan. You were upset. You didn't know what you were doing. But you do love me. I know you love me. I refuse to let one unfortunate incident spoil what we could still have together. I love you and I don't want any other man but you.'
He was staring at her as though she was mad, his eyes wide with disbelief and yes ... revulsion. He reefed his hand out of hers and pushed her away as he hauled himself to his feet. Lurching across the room, he reached his desk, where he whirled to face her once more.
'What kind of woman are you? How can you dismiss what I did to you so easily? I can't. I can't dismiss it any more that I can dismiss in whose bedroom I found you.'
Gemma groaned and shook her head as she got slowly to her feet. 'You're wrong about that, Nathan. So wrong. And you were wrong to do what you did. But love can forgive, can't it?'
'That depends on what it has to forgive.'
Gemma wasn't sure now if he was referring to her forgiving him, or him forgiving her.
'Please, Nathan, let's just forgive each other everything! We both did things we regret. It was poor judgement for me to go to Damian for help, but it was also poor judgement for you to have so much to do with Lenore. Can't we just learn from our mistakes and go forward? We love each other. With a little more trust I think we can still have a good marriage.'
'Trust ... Now that's a commodity I think will be in short supply between us from now on, my dear. As for our loving each other, you never really loved me. Not your fault, of course. You were very young and I rushed you into marriage before you could differentiate between lust and love. I'm doing you a favor by letting you go.'
'And what if I don't want to be let go?'
He threw her an impatient scowling look. 'Then I'll have to make you go.' Striding behind the desk, he reefed opened a drawer and extracted a large brown envelope. 'Remember this?' he asked, waving it at her. 'You asked me what it was one day and I told you it contained business documents. It doesn't. It's a report from the private detective I hired to find your mother.'
Gemma could feel the blood drain from her face, Luckily she was standing next to a chair. Her fingers felt for the armrest and she leant against it. 'What are you trying to say, Nathan?' she said in a raw whisper.
'I'm saying I lied to you. He found your mother. I made the decision to keep her identity from you.'
'But ... but why, for pity's sake?' she cried, shattered by this news.
He'd known what finding her mother meant to her. How could he have done this? This was far worse than what he did yesterday. Far, far worse!
'What does it matter what my reasons were now? I did it. Here ... ' He tossed the envelope on to the edge of the desk. 'Read it. As fate would have it, I doubt the news will come as big a shock to you as it did to me.'
Gemma stared at the envelope across the room as though it were a deadly snake. Why would the identity of her mother come as a shock? Was she a form of lowlife? A prostitute, perhaps? Her father had always said she was a slut. It was the only explanation for why Nathan would keep this a secret. ..
'Do excuse me,' Nathan tossed off almost indifferently. 'Now that I've settled the matter of our divorce, I'm going to go and clean myself up. I will presume that once you've read that you'll want to be on your way as soon as possible.'
Gemma was left feeling sick and alone with his abrupt departure. Her mind was having difficulty in taking it all in. She'd wanted to find her mother for so long, and her identity was inside that envelope. All she had to do was look.
Approaching the desk with a madly beating heart, she almost dropped the thing when she first went to pick it up. With it clutched in her hands, she made her way round behind the desk where she slumped gratefully into the chair.
The flap wasn't sealed and it flipped out easily.
Gemma drew the dreaded sheets of paper out of their hiding place, her eyes glazed as they skimmed over the printed report, searching for the name.
It jumped out at her as though it were in neon lights, making Gemma catch her breath with shock.
Oh, my God, I don't believe it, came her shaken thoughts. I simply don't believe it! It .. .it's impossible. It doesn't make sense. She can't be my mother. She simply can't be!
Gemma pulled open the passenger door of Byron's Jaguar and climbed in.
'Good God, Gemma!' he exclaimed. 'You're as white as a sheet. What happened? Don't tell me he wouldn't listen to you. And what's that you've got?' he added, staring at the envelope clutched in her hands.
'Nothing. It. . .it's personal,' she said, still shaken by the contents.
Byron frowned down at the envelope for a moment, then shrugged.
'Well, what about Nathan? Did you talk to him?'
'Nathan?' Gemma's heart hardened against her husband in a way she never thought it would. 'Oh, yes, I talked to him, as much as one ever talks to Nathan. He wants a divorce, and, as far as I'm concerned, he can have it.'
'What? But didn't you explain about the mix-up over the play?'
'Yes, but he still doesn't believe me about Damian. Nathan doesn't believe I love him or that I've ever really loved him. Then there are other things as well. .. '
'What other things?'
'Private things, Byron. Things I can't tell you.'
His sigh was full of frustration. 'Is there any point my talking to him?'
'Certainly not today. Maybe not ever. He seemed quite determined to have done with our marriage.'
So determined, Gemma realized bitterly, that he had made sure she found out the one thing she could not forgive.
All Byron could do was wearily shake his head and start the car. 'Where would you like me to take you? Back to Belleview?'
'No. I. . .I would appreciate it if you could drop me off outside Campbell's head office.'
Byron's head snapped round, his expression grim. 'I don't care how stubborn or stupid Nathan has been, Gemma, do not go running to Damian Campbell again, I beg of you. Come .. .let me take you home to Ava. A nice long chat with a sympathetic lady is what you need.'
'I don't want to go to Campbell's to see Damian,' she said shakily. 'I need to see Celeste.'
'Celeste?'
'Yes.' Gemma had no intention of offering Byron an explanation at this traumatic juncture and he had enough intelligence to quickly size up her fragile yet determined mood.
'All right. But promise you'll take a taxi home to Belleview when you're finished there.'
'I pro
mise.'
It was only a short drive from Elizabeth Bay into the city and within no time Gemma was presenting herself at Reception at Campbell's, where she stood waiting while the receptionist took a couple of incoming calls. This didn't help her underlying agitation, or her growing sense of awe at the amazing set of circumstances that had led to this moment.
'May I help you?' the receptionist asked politely once she finished answering the telephone.
'I need to see Miss Campbell. I don't have an appointment but if you tell her it's Gemma Whitmore and it's very important, I'm sure she'll see me.'
The receptionist spoke briefly to someone on the telephone after which she looked up and flashed Gemma a bright smile. 'Miss Campbell will see you immediately. It's the last door down that corridor. Go straight on in and her secretary will take you to her.'
Celeste was besieged with uncharacteristic butterflies from the moment her secretary came through with the message from Gemma. She waited impatiently for her to be shown in, wondering what could be so urgent. The sudden thought that Gemma might have gone to see Nathan and been assaulted again brought with it a sickening surge which sent her leaping to her feet the moment the door opened.
Worried eyes searched the girl's face as she walked in and closed the door behind her. While she did not look overly distraught, an underlying agitation was evident in her pale face and slightly hesitant movements.
'What is it?' Celeste asked, thoroughly agitated herself now. 'What's happened?'
When Gemma couldn't seem to find her voice, simply standing there with unexpected tears filling her eyes, Celeste almost panicked. Her first instinct was to race around the desk and go to her, but something in Gemma's face kept her rooted to the spot.
'What is it?' she asked again, a nervously fluttering hand coming up to her throat. She watched, her nerves stretching, as the girl visibly battled for composure.
'I. . .I'm not sure how you're going to take this news, Gemma said haltingly.
'What news?'
'Oh, God .. .I can't .. .I just can't. You ... you'd better read this.'
And she came forward to place a large brown envelope on her desk. 'You'd better sit down.'
Celeste blinked. Sit down? Good God, what was in this envelope?
But she did as she was told, sat down and drew out several pages of what looked like a typed report. From the moment she saw the faded photograph attached, her stomach clenched down hard.
Celeste read each page with a fearful, yet excited anticipation welling up within her. This couldn't be true, she kept saying to herself. And yet it was. It was!
Her eyes flew up, locking with Gemma's suddenly tearful ones.
'You are my mother, aren't you?' the girl said, hopefully, pleadingly.
Celeste choked up totally, her head swimming as the force of emotion hit. All she could was a weak nod.
Then Gemma smiled and Celeste's heart burst open, all the pain of the past years obliterated by that one beautifully loving gesture.
'Mother,' Gemma said softly, and held out her arms. With a strangled sob Celeste ran to her daughter, falling into her arms in an embrace that held all the unused love in her heart. 'Oh, my darling child,' she wept. 'My daughter. Oh, God, I don't believe it. . .'
'Believe it, Mother. Believe it.'
Celeste pulled back, stunned by the composure of this lovely girl who was her own beautiful little baby grown up. Her shaking hand reached out to trace over her hair and face. 'I. .. thought you were lost to me forever,' she said shakily. 'You were stolen from me, you know, like the detective suggested might have happened in that report. I didn't give you away, I promise you. And I did try to find you. Not with any success, unfortunately. I thought. . .I ... I. . .'
The tears took over again and she could not go on. Gemma pulled her back into a bear-hug. 'I knew that if you were alive somewhere,' she said firmly, 'one day, I would find you.'
Mother and daughter hugged for a while till Celeste drew back with a still bewildered look on her face. 'I still can't believe it. You don't understand what this means to me. You could never understand.'
You are my only child, came the wrenchingly emotional thought. The only child I will ever have. But it didn't seem the right moment to say that.
'You're so beautiful,' she said, once again tracing trembling fingers over her daughter's sweet face.
Gemma smiled that heart-stopping sweet smile of hers, making Celeste go to mush once more.
'I must take after my mother,' she said generously. Celeste's groan was tortured.
'Are you sure you want someone like me as your mother?'
'I'm proud to have you as my mother,' Gemma insisted warmly.
'But ... but what about my reputation?'
'Are you talking about the lovers you've had? Why should you be judged so harshly for that? You're not married and you're still a very beautiful woman. You have every right to be loved.'
'But. .. but. . .'
'Do you think I'm shocked because you've had relationships with younger men? Why should I be? Nathan is many years older than I am. Age has nothing to do with love.'
'Would you believe me if I told you none of those young men was my lover?'
There was no doubting Gemma was startled. But she quickly gathered herself to speak in a reassuringly firm voice.
'Of course I would believe you! Why would you lie? But my love isn't conditional on such things. You're my mother! I love you as I've always loved you, even without knowing you. And now that I know you didn't deliberately leave me with my father, I don't even feel angry with you any more.'
Celeste was jolted by this. She hadn't yet thought of what Gemma's life had been like with that ghastly man. Oh, the poor darling, the poor, poor darling ...
Her expression was anguished as she reached out to her daughter again, though it was so good to just touch her, to gaze into her lovely eyes while she stroked her lovely hair. 'He didn't. .. mistreat you, did he? I don't think I could bear that. .. '
'He tried to be a good father,' Gemma said. 'I think he loved me, but he was a hard man to live with.'
'How ... how did he die?'
'Fell down a mine shaft. Or was pushed. I. . .I've always felt guilty that I wasn't able to grieve for him as a daughter should. To be honest, he and I never saw eye to eye. Ma says we weren't at all alike.'
Celeste's heart contracted. Should she tell her the truth? Was there anything to be gained by giving her more shocks? Not only that, did she dare bring in another party, who might try to take from her what she had only just found?
'Who's Ma?’ she asked, stalling for time as she pondered this dilemma.
'An old lady neighbor of mine at Lightning Ridge. Everyone calls her Ma. She was very kind to me.'
'Lightning Ridge again,' Celeste muttered to herself. 'And this Ma thought you had none of your father in you?'
'Not a scrap.'
Celeste made up her mind. She couldn't let this lovely girl go through life thinking that bastard was her father. Maybe if Gemma had loved Stefan then she would not have said a word. But she deserved better than that.
'That's because he wasn't your father,' she said tautly, and held her breath.
Did those big brown eyes light up with shock, or relief?
'Then who?' Gemma asked. 'W ... who was my father?'
Celeste gulped in a deep breath, aware that her heart was racing madly. Much as she felt Byron had been greatly at fault in their own relationship, he was a father to be proud of.
Lifting her chin, she spoke with a quiet dignity. 'Byron Whitmore.'
Gemma took a staggering step backwards. 'B-Byron? Byron is my father?'
Celeste nodded. 'Perhaps you should sit down this time, darling,' she suggested softly, 'and I'll tell you all about it.'
She guided the stunned child over to the chesterfield and settled her down. 'Perhaps a little drink would be in order as well? Coffee perhaps, or something stronger?'
Gemma grabbed her hands to stop
her from walking away, drawing her down beside her. 'No, nothing. I'm all right. It .. .it just took my breath away for a moment.'
Celeste's smile was gently wry. 'Your father has always done the same to me. Taken my breath away .. .'
'You ... you loved him, then?'
. I've never loved any other man.'