by Karen Aldous
Cal raised his arm and rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Mmm, not good then,’ he said wryly.
‘Not good. No. Well, Harry and Bea get their attention, sometimes. I understand. They are younger.’
Now staring at the sea himself and inhaling the salty air, Cal wasn’t surprised why his son was so keen to get away. There was no one on his side by the sound of things and nothing to give him much faith in a future of happiness, of hope. His mind cast back to Lizzie’s troubles last year. Similarly, she had no faith or trust in anyone other than Sophie. He remembered how much she’d despised her mother but in a short time, and with a bit of encouragement, she’d managed to rebuild their relationship. Even helped her mother cope with the cancer and, as if that wasn’t enough, the immense fear and threats that Anton put her through trying to abduct Thierry. Yes, it was true, she had Thierry to keep her going, but it was far from easy for her. She had struggled but had come through it. He’d watched her build love and trust she never imagined existed.
He peered at his son. It was the agony of the short-term solution which pained him most, but it was the only way he imagined he was going to offer Jack a way forward. Every time he thought about it, he failed to find another solution that would be better for Jack.
‘Jack. I want you to think about something.’
‘Oh, such as?’ Jack was fiddling with the fishing rod.
‘I’m not in a position to go to London yet, but I have an idea.’ Cal waited for his son’s attention and Jack returned to his seat and turned it inward forty-five degrees towards him. ‘If you want to, this is. How would you feel about coming back to Cannes the week after next? Just for the holiday period. But,’ he paused, ‘and this is a condition. When we return, you go back to school.’
Immediately Jack shook his head. ‘Dad, I can’t. I can carry on with the tutor. Please, don’t make me go back. I mean, I love the sound of a holiday but I can’t go back to school. Please don’t make me?’
‘Jack, listen. Nothing is going to happen that you can’t deal with. You have some good friends who you can stay close to. What I’m proposing is for your own good. I’m asking you to do yourself the biggest favour. I’ll tell you why.’ Cal scratched his ear. ‘In returning to school, you will be facing your biggest fear imaginable, right?’
‘Yes.’ Jack folded his arms so that his hands rubbed his upper arms.
Cal sat forward. ‘OK. Now by going back, you might feel uncomfortable for a few odd moments but I believe you can be the bigger person. I believe you will be able to face those people you feel threatened by and ignore them if you have to, but you have nothing to feel ashamed of. You’re a good guy, Jack. Do you hear? It was her problem, not yours. You just keep reminding yourself that and you’ll be fine. But returning will allow you the strength to face people in life and, more importantly, feel you can come back with your head up any time you want to. If you leave this town and your family without facing this, you will never come back. I’m concerned you will regret not holding up your head and dealing with it in what is essentially a fragment of your lifetime. It’s a few weeks.’
Jack stared at him.
‘And the deal is,’ Cal sat back and continued before Jack could protest, ‘I will come back here with you and stay with you until you’ve finished your exams. The exams will be the least of your worries. I know you’ll do your best and I know you’ve got the capability to get through them. However, I’m also confident you will cope with facing those kids far better than you think. Anyhow, don’t tell me now what you think. I want you to think it through for yourself and have your own reasons for doing it. I want you to want to do it. Keep telling yourself it’s no big deal. That is my view and my proposal. Then after that we can go back to Cannes and talk about your future and London.’
Cal took a deep breath. He felt so alone. He wished Lizzie could be beside him right now to support him. This was serious responsibility. This was his son’s life. Was he truly capable of making the right decisions or judgements on his child’s behalf? Inside he was trembling at what might be going on in Jack’s head as he watched him drop his shoulders, letting his arms fall idly into his lap and his head following. This was torturous. Would Jack try to run again? Was he as strong as he believed him to be? He had no choice but to get tougher. Jack was having it all his own way at present so something had to change. His mind set had to alter in order to make that happen. Cal just prayed this significant leap of faith would be worth it.
‘OK, shall we check these rods and see what’s going on? I reckon the bait’s come off.’
Jack stood up swinging out his arm and holding him back. ‘No, no. Leave them be.’
Cal stood gazing at the rods and then back at his son. How could he ever know he was doing the right thing?
Chapter 12
Thierry looked up to Lizzie with a face splattered with tomato sauce. Lizzie burst with laughter and reached for a wet wipe.
‘He’s OK. I was waiting for him to finish,’ Caroline said, ‘we’ve had a lovely time. Thierry’s really good at puzzles isn’t he? We did Fireman Sam. And you’re not really convincing me that you’re OK.’
‘I’m fine.’ She helped Thierry down from the table and he ran off to play. ‘All OK at the salon. OK, I’m missing Cal, dreadfully,’ Lizzie admitted, pulling a face. ‘And, it sounds silly but I’m just not comfortable with him spending so much time with Kelly.’
‘Oh darling, he’s so besotted with you. And he’ll be back soon.’
‘Mmm, yes, I know.’
‘Look, I’m sure things will sort themselves out with Jack sooner than you think and he’ll be away from Kelly.’
‘I wouldn’t mind so much if Reuben was around, or she didn’t insist on being over at the beach house every hour of the day. She does all the cooking, the cleaning, laundry. She’d wipe his nose for him if he’d let her. I don’t know. All I know is he was in love with her once so who’s to say it couldn’t re-ignite?’
Caroline frowned and brushed back her hair with her fingers. ‘Darling, you are being silly. Yes, she sounds to me like she’s under-occupied, but Cal I’m sure will just do what he needs to do and get back to you as soon as he can. And, to be honest, it takes time for any relationship to build trust. It’s still early days for you and Cal. It’s natural to have insecurities and doubts but let’s not forget, Cal has given up everything here to be near you.’
‘No, Mum. He bought that vineyard in Provence before we got together. He was more concerned about getting out of our lives.’
‘Ha, don’t kid yourself. OK, it may have been timely. Opportunity even. He said he’d been looking for years, but I think you were more his motivation. In fact I’d go as far to say, he was over there seeking you out more than the vineyard. I’d be surprised if he arranged those meetings as an excuse.’
‘Oh, Mum. That’s gross exaggeration. He didn’t know me.’
‘My point exactly.’
Lizzie doubted her mother but it was sweet of her. She was only trying to make her feel better. The truth was, her heart felt hollow without him. She would need to distract her mind. And especially so from the stirrings of her suspicions.
‘Anyway, shall we go along and find this grave tomorrow? I can do some initial research on the internet. Maybe even ring them.’
Caroline stopped chopping cucumber and was biting her lip. ‘I would really love to find out. I mean, if I’ve got a cousin alive, that would be so incredible. If she’s still alive, she’d be about seventy-four, seventy-five now. To be honest, I think we’ll find her in the cemetery with her mum.’
‘My point exactly.’ Lizzie sidled over behind her mother and put her hands around her waist, snuggling her head between her shoulder blades.
‘Huh. Touché,’ Caroline quipped. ‘Let’s do this.’
Within minutes Lizzie had her laptop and had begun seeking out the cemetery. Some photos revealed a very overgrown leafy oasis which was hard to imagine sat in the middle of East London. It had
certainly been neglected but there were still many, many tombstones. As she read through the information and postings, her heart sank. Four times during the war the site was bombed. That meant if her mum’s cousin was buried there in 1940, and the war went on until 1945, what were the chances of their bodies or any tombstone surviving? Could they just be wasting time? As she continued reading, there was even less hope. The site had undergone some major clearance and was now…a nature reserve.
‘Oh,’ she muttered.
‘What?’
Lizzie finished reading then looked up and explained her findings. ‘However,’ she shuffled the mouse, ‘there is an email address and, as we have the date of death and grave reference, we may be able to get confirmation.’
‘Darling, we aren’t meant to find her. They don’t exist. Don’t you think if people want to find you they will?’
‘If they knew. What if she was alive? She could have been put up for adoption. It’s certainly not going to be as simple as I thought,’ Lizzie said typing an email with her request. She closed her laptop and gave a large yawn. ‘I’ll do some more research later, I think the jetlag is kicking in now,’ she said looking around her. ‘Thierry,’ she called and walked through the living room to find him. She dashed on tiptoe back to her mother. ‘Come and see this, quick.’ She collected her phone and Caroline followed her back.
Sitting in the little red car with one foot dangling out the door, Thierry was slumped, his head tipped back with his eyes closed, fast asleep. Lizzie took a quick snap with her phone.
‘Oh, he looks adorable,’ her mother whispered.
Passing her mother her phone, Lizzie gathered him in her arms and made him comfortable on the sofa, placing a throw over him.
‘I’ll sit here with him and have a nap too if that’s all right.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Caroline whispered. ‘Here, there’s another throw. I’ll close this door. I’ll keep going through that box. It might throw up something else.’
When Lizzie woke three hours later, her eyes were heavy and her head groggy. The first thing that registered was the sound of Thierry.
‘Vroom, vroom, nee-na, nee-na. It’s an emergency.’ His voice chatted in his little world he’d created in the conservatory.
Lizzie tried to gather her head together and gripped the chair to get to her feet.
‘Do you need the toilet, Thierry?’ she said entering the open double doors.
‘Mummy. It’s an emergency,’ he said, ‘Sarah and James are lost on the farm and I’m going to rescue them.’
‘OK, poppet, just tell Mummy when you need the toilet,’ she said with barely any energy to show her amusement. ‘I’m in the kitchen with Grandma.’
Caroline was making food. Michael was at the table reading through some of the documents spread on the table as she entered.
‘Lizzie,’ he said leaping up and greeting her with a kiss. ‘Oh, the jetlag got you. How are you?’
‘Hello, yes, you can see, but fine otherwise. I saw you earlier, busy with the vines.’ As always, Michael shone lively, laughter-filled eyes.
‘Yes. Want to nip any trouble early. First spray, anyway,’ Michael said proudly. ‘I wouldn’t want all Cal’s hard work to go to pot in its first year under my custody. He says Jes has been giving a hand with his, or one of the team at least. I spoke to him a couple of weeks ago.’
‘Yes, thank God Jes is close by. As soon as it all completed, he was straight on it. Powdery mildew prevention I believe.’
‘Oh yes. Such a romantic industry,’ Michael laughed. ‘So, Caroline has been filling me in with the findings here.’
Caroline appeared from behind and offered her daughter a drink insisting she sit down.
Michael continued. ‘I thought it might be a good idea to try some orphanages or convents and see if you strike lucky. Although, I hear some convents are reluctant to divulge much about some of their records or have destroyed them due to their past unethical practices. Also, places like Dr Barnardo’s, Salvation Army – I know a journalist friend of mine who traced a relative that way. Speaking to other relatives who were around that time too; bit of a problem now but if you can find any or any neighbours from the area?’
Carrying over two mugs of coffee, Caroline joined in the conversation. ‘Goodness, I’m not sure there are any relatives. I’ll have to really dig deep in my brain to remember. I’ll have a think.’
Lizzie had no idea. She’d barely known her other gran. She knew she lived on the south coast somewhere in a bungalow and that they’d been to visit a few times. Lizzie shrugged and took a large gulp of the much-needed coffee.
‘Note down anything or anyone you can remember. Did you find anything in the box? Oh, duh! Clearly not.’ Lizzie guffawed, realising her mother would have said.
‘Oh, I did, yes, look at this.’ Caroline tapped her fingers. ‘Where did I put…ah, here.’ She reached into her pocket. ‘Sorry, I’m going gaga with all this information. But this is my gran’s locket which I remember her wearing. She always had this on. And…’ Caroline pinched her fingers into the old gold and tarnished locket which was decorated on the edges with subtle scrolling tangle weed, and it popped open. ‘Here.’
Lizzie took the weighty item and let the chain slide down her fingers. As soon as she clamped her eyes on the miniature picture of her gran, and a baby, a huge lump clogged her throat. Her hand shot to her mouth.
‘Oh, is this…?’
‘I think it must be.’ Caroline’s eyes were welling up too. ‘I can’t believe Gran had been wearing it all that time and my mum had never seen inside it, unless…well, she never said. But she definitely looks about the right age, her sister Emily I mean, and baby Annie. I don’t know why Gran kept it so secret.’
‘Oh, Mum, that’s so, so sad.’ Lizzie swiped her cheek. ‘So wonderful that we have this. I actually feel connected, this is part of us, you, me and Thierry. And this photo, this is your grandfather in uniform?’
‘Yes, as a young soldier.’
‘What treasure. A real family treasure. I must begin a family tree for Thierry and gather all that I can. We have all this as a start.’
Caroline wrapped her arm around her daughter with a sniff. ‘Darling, that means so much. These documents should never be lost.’
‘Don’t you worry, I will scan them into the computer so that they are safe forever.’
‘Lizzie, how did we lose ourselves all those years?’
Lizzie kissed her mother on the cheek. ‘Mum, it’s not what we had, it’s what we have now and in the future. I’m not going to fret about it, just build on it for Thierry and my future and, you never know, possibly more little grandchildren in the future.’
‘What, you and Cal are…?’
‘Mum, no, but he is definitely the one I could imagine being my husband and father. Erm, don’t tell him I told you that. I think I’ll have a shower and wake myself up,’ Lizzie said mindlessly stroking the gold locket.
‘Well, the salad I made earlier is in the fridge. I’ll put the chicken under the grill when you go up for a shower,’ Caroline said.
‘Yes, we overindulged on the pastries this morning,’ Lizzie told Michael. ‘I’m getting hungry now though. So, yes, Mum, that sounds perfect.’ Her fingers slid across a small, brown-textured book which in turn slid down to the table towards her. ‘Well, as it’s unlikely we’ll be going to London tomorrow, shall we do something else?’ she said opening up the book and scanning her eyes over it.
She flicked back to the hard cover to identify it. It read, Soldier’s Service and Pay Book. Opening it up again, she played with the inside flap. She then began reading its contents. There was such an interesting store of information and history of her great-grandfather’s. A folded form was tucked in one of the back pockets. Again like the pages, it was browning with age. When opened it was foolscap which had the Royal Crest at the top and large letters G & R inscribed either side. It was a Third Class Certificate of Education. Modified for India,
it said, and dated February 1921.
‘Oh, bless, look at this.’ She read through the attainments. ‘At least he was “proficient in writing” and could “write a simple letter”. A fair bit of arithmetic,’ she added passing it to Michael and flicked back the smaller pocket which had tiny folds to presumably store papers. At first, it appeared empty but on closer inspection Lizzie spotted a small note on thin paper.
Chapter 13
It was only slightly larger than an envelope label. Handwritten in blue ink, the writing was very small but well preserved. It was dated 4th September 1940. It read:
Dearest Stark family, my sincerest sympathy and condolences to you all. Your daughter and loving friend Emily will be deeply missed and I only hope Annie is well as I haven’t heard whether she was found. I would love to hear from you. My love and thoughts are with you. Dorothy. xxx
Lizzie almost choked. ‘Mum,’ she began shaking, her heart sinking. ‘This is awful. I’m not going to rest now until I find out more.’
‘Show me? You go and have your shower, sweetheart. We don’t seem to have a death certificate for Annie, perhaps we should hold that thought.’
‘Yes, if she was in a pram, she may have been better protected,’ Lizzie said, hopefully.
Michael pinched his nose and shook his head whilst both Caroline and Lizzie looked at him for answers.
‘Anything is possible,’ he said sitting back and showing empty helpless palms, ‘but don’t go building up your hopes. I’m sure, if she had lived, your grandmother would have raised her and you would have known about her. In my opinion, it’s pointless searching for someone who never survived.’
Caroline’s mouth tightened. ‘He’s right, I think we’re being optimistic.’
‘Well, I’m happy to at least try, if you want to.’ Lizzie glared at her mother. ‘I just couldn’t bear the thought of having a relative still alive who we, or I, never bothered to find.’