by Cindy Crane
“Don’t push your luck,” he growled, treating the man’s outstretched hand with contempt. “The only thing I’m doing for Frankie is saving her the embarrassment of having an enquiry into wrongful arrest by two dodgy cops who went out of their way to abuse their authority to set me up.”
“Arrest?” Richardson queried. That familiar, smug smile was playing on his lips again—a smile that never reached his eyes. Old habits still died hard. “I don’t recall an arrest—now or then. Twelve years ago, you were just some young punk helping us with our enquiries. As far as I’m concerned, you’re not connected to the case I’m working on today, either. It’s just a case of mistaken identity, same as last time. You really shouldn’t be in the wrong places at the wrong time, Jake.”
The condescension in his final sentence said it all.
Jake stared.
What a fool.
They’d played him then, had tried to play him now. And the contempt in Richardson ’s voice indicated he still thought he wasn’t good enough for his precious daughter.
Jake clenched his fist, and then watched as Frankie’s father smiled that irritating smile, willing him to do it. It was just what he needed—to tell his daughter I told you so, after all. But he relaxed his fist and met the man with a half-smile of his own. He was better than that—had always been better than that. And Richardson would have seen it too, back then, if he’d been given half a chance.
“Okay. If you still think my credentials are still so bad, come with us to the Comp tomorrow. Listen to what this punk with a drunken layabout for a father and a junkie whore for a mother has actually done with his life. Then see if I’m not good enough for your daughter.” He couldn’t resist using the words Richardson had once used of him and his family all those years back.
Richardson allowed the invitation to sink into his brain before saying, “And what about my granddaughter? You’d be bringing up another man’s child. That’ll not be easy.” He was still trying to put obstacles in his way. Perhaps he’d failed his daughter, but his granddaughter was the light of his life now. He needed reassurances about her future.
“I’m not saying it will. But I’d bring up another five men’s children if it meant being with Frankie. You’d do well to remember that.”
And before he had time to answer, he walked out—straight into Frankie’s arms.
And now, nothing mattered anymore.
She was the loveliest woman to adorn the planet. He’d been born to love her. To go through hell for her if need be. And he had. But he’d come through the other side, and now he was never letting her go.
She curled her fingers round his and squeezed. The simple gesture said more than words ever could.
“Let’s go home,” she whispered. “I love you, Jake Wilkes. And this time nothing is going to drive us apart.”
Chapter 26
Debs flew to the door.
“He’s here!” she squealed.
She couldn’t wait to meet him.
At long last, her mother had a boyfriend—father-material boyfriend.
And she’d never stopped asking questions about him. She rushed to the phone every time it rang; giving him the third degree, wanting to know his intentions. But more so, she wanted to tell him all about herself. He sounded so nice; she was in love with him herself.
She had so much to say to him, but it all sort of stuck in her throat, trapped somewhere between her voice box and her wide, beaming smile, so all that came out was a shy little “Hi.”
Jake smiled back, his eyes sparkling. He too felt a little nervous. He’d been waiting for this moment too. The lump in his throat swelled so big he could barely breathe. So all he could manage was a strangled “Hi” himself.
She was gorgeous. She had her mother’s eyes: clear, bright, beautiful, bordered by long, sweeping lashes. But the rest of her was like looking in a mirror.
His heart was beating so hard, so fast, he thought it would burst. And he had to fight the tears prickling the corners of his eyes as she stood, tall for her eleven years, and held out her hand in welcome. He wanted to fold the child to him but, instead, just curled his hand round hers in a welcoming handshake, touching for the first time the skin, the warmth of his own flesh and blood.
They’d agreed to tell her together, when the time was right—which wasn’t now. So he just savoured the excitement and tenderness of the moment. A tsunami of love engulfed him and his eyes only left the child’s face to meet those of her mother. She was smiling behind her daughter in the doorway. But as he smiled back, all he could see and hear was Frankie telling him everything, back at the flat, all those weeks ago.
While kicking her heels outside the station, she’d phoned her mother again, insisting she explain everything. She wanted to know why she’d lost her temper with her father and what she meant the night they left for her father’s new job, when she said it was all for her own good. She wanted to know about the drugs they’d said were in his flat. And what did she know about the missing needle? Why had Jake been accused of trying to murder the girl whose life he’d tried to save? The questions were never-ending.
After a moment’s hesitation, her mother obliged. She’d had enough of her father’s manipulation. Maybe back then she’d agreed with him and all he’d done to keep Frankie and Jake apart but when Frankie came back from her reunion and she saw her looking so happy, she began to think that perhaps Jake couldn’t be so bad after all. So she told her husband it was Frankie’s decision to make this time round, not his. She was a grown woman now, not a child anymore. This time, she was on her side.
Then, she hesitated a moment before adding tentatively, “Anyway, he must have a lot of good genes inside him to have created part of our lovely granddaughter.”
The blood pounded in Frankie’s ears in the ensuing silence. “You know?” she finally gasped in surprise. “How? When?”
“I’ve always known. I’m your mother,” she said softly. “It wasn’t hard to guess. You hardly went out, let alone met so many boys that you could have done what you said you did.”
“But you never said anything, never sided with Dad over the abortion.”
“I’m not saying I was happy about it, but I didn’t agree with an abortion. The child had as much right to life as anyone. But I knew that if I even suggested that boy had been the father, your father would have made it so difficult for both of us—and Jake too. It was better to let you have your lie and keep your secret. You’d gone through enough as it was. And by then I couldn’t help feeling your father hadn’t been exactly honest in his treatment of Jake. That he’d manipulated everything: threatening to plant all that evidence. But what was done, was done. I couldn’t change it. I even think he would have gone ahead with everything out of sheer spite if he’d known he was Debs’ father. And Jake would have ended up in prison.”
Frankie swallowed hard. “Oh, Mum,” she choked.
Her mother choked back the tears too. “I’m sorry, Frankie. I should have been stronger for you.”
Another moment of silence followed as both women came to terms with the enormity of her confession and her sorrow.
“So…” Her mother spoke first, forcing brightness into her voice. If she hadn’t spoken, she would have dissolved into a zillion tears. That would have to wait until she put the phone down. “…How are you going to tell him? Tell Debs?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll find a way. But I don’t think it’s going to be hard.” A sudden smile penetrated the sadness that had previously engulfed her, and relief gushed through her, knowing that her secret wouldn’t be a secret for much longer.
So, after Jake finished telling her about her father’s betrayal; and his own, confessing his guilt at all the lies he’d told her and the promises he’d broken; she kissed him hard, over and over again, telling him not to blame himself. She understood now. They were together again, and that was all that mattered.
“I’ve not been exactly truthful myself, either,” she confessed.
> He’d drawn away from her mouth, head tilted slightly, eyes questioning. What was she talking about? She’d been the victim in all this.
“About Debs,” she said softly. “I lied when I said I didn’t know who her father was.” She paused for a moment, choosing her words carefully. “When I saw you at the reunion, I wanted to hurt you. Really hurt you. Just like you hurt me back then. But the truth was, back then, when I told my parents I was pregnant, I was really trying to protect you.”
Frankie watched the pulse flicker and quicken at Jake’s throat, felt the shortening of his breath as he absorbed the enormity of her words. For a moment she lowered her eyes, afraid of how he would react. But then she took a deep breath and continued.
“There were no other men. I didn’t go off the rails. Not in that way. I was too busy missing you, hating you, and wondering why you wouldn’t answer my letters.”
She paused, taking his hands into both of hers and gently squeezing. “It was that last night we spent together, before we went our separate ways.” She paused again. His eyes were already telling her he knew what she was going to say, but were begging her to say it anyway.
“Debs is your daughter, Jake.”
Jake was silent. He didn’t know what to say. And if he had the words, he wasn’t sure he was capable of speech. An emotion so big, so wonderful, yet so painfully physical, welled up inside his chest, squeezing at his heart. He crushed her to him, barely able to breathe, as tears formed pools of diamonds that glistened along the lower lids of his eyes.
Poor Frankie; she’d had to deal with everything alone.
She’d carried their child—alone.
She’d faced her father’s wrath—alone.
She’d raised their daughter single-handed, when he should have been there with her, sharing every step, every joy, and every cry. How he hated the man who called himself her father. He’d robbed him of eleven years of his own child’s life.
“Oh, Frankie.” When he finally did speak, his voice was thick with emotion as he buried his face in her hair. “I’m so sorry. I should have been there for you, for Debs.”
Jake’s face was swimming in a blur before Frankie’s tear-filled eyes. She placed a palm against each cheek, holding his face gently between them.
“Don’t be,” she whispered tenderly. “It wasn’t your fault. And I couldn’t tell Dad you were the father.” She swallowed hard. “At least Mum stood up to him too, supporting me, and supporting the life growing inside me. But if he’d known it was you….” She hesitated, remembering her father’s hatred of Jake. “….he’d have taken me to have the abortion himself. I don’t know why, but I somehow knew he’d find it easier to accept an unknown father rather than you. And after everything I now know happened between you, he would have carried out his threats after all. He’d have taken his revenge and made sure you went to prison.”
Jake was sure she was right. But it still didn’t make it easier to accept. The man had been a total control freak, and he wasted no time saying so. The emotion of learning he was a father now gave way to anger; he’d been deprived of the privilege for so long.
Frankie caught his face even more tightly between her hands. “Let it go,” she said calmly, rationally. “I’m angry too. But we can’t change things.” She allowed him a moment to settle. “And you have to know he has mellowed. And he does love Debs. Whatever he put us through, we’ve got to remember her in all this. And she loves her Grandad.”
She was right. What was past was past. It was time to look to the future—a future together. And he let her cradle him to her as they both gave way to tears that had been stored for twelve years. Then, kissing away each other’s tears, passion resurfaced once more. It bid them welcome release from their tired, hungry bodies.
Later, as they lay in each other’s arms, Jake asked, “So, what does Debs know about her father? What have you told her about him, about me? What will she think: that I abandoned her?”
The enormity of the task ahead suddenly filled him with new fear. It was one thing suddenly finding out you had a daughter. It was another wondering how she would react to the news.
“I always told Debs that if her father knew about her, he would love her very much. It was just that one day I lost him and couldn’t find him again. She just accepted it, as if it was all the explanation she needed. We live in a society of single parents. She didn’t feel out of the ordinary. But I did once tell her that, when she was old enough, we might try to find him again. But she never asked.”
“So you did intend to come back one day?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged sadly. “Maybe for Debs, if she asked more questions as she got older. Or, at least I’d have given her the information she needed, if she wanted to look for you herself. I was never sure where you stood in all this because the letters that came back were the ones telling you about the baby. I was never sure whether you’d read them or not; then resealed them before returning them.”
Jake groaned, feeling the pain she must have endured.
“I visualised my bags packed, ready for you to come for me. Then we’d ride off into the sunset in that tatty old van of yours and live happily ever after. Silly, eh?”
He groaned. It wasn’t silly at all. They would have managed.
She gave a little laugh, brightening her voice. “Daft thing is, though, we have Carly to thank for being together again. As well as that website I logged onto.”
Jake agreed. Carly might have been the catalyst to their troubles all those years back, but she had definitely made up for it by organising that school reunion. Maybe he’d even send her a bunch of flowers as a thank you.
Chapter 27
Five months later, Jake and Frankie stepped out of the Registry Office into a flurry of confetti. It rained down around them, like flakes of multi-coloured snow. It settled in their hair, on their clothes and tickled their faces. They’d not wanted a fuss, but the green in front of the building was buzzing with friends who’d made their way to see them tie the knot on this, their big day.
Frankie looked every part the radiant bride in her long, cream skirt and bustier, decorated with delicate roses and tiny pearls. Her breasts pushed northwards into two softly rounded mounds. She’d had to alter the dress twice in the past fortnight.
“Thank goodness the wedding’s tomorrow,” she’d sighed only the previous day, as she did a final fit. “Any longer and I’ll be spilling out of it altogether.”
Jake could only grin at such an extremely delectable thought. Spilling Frankie’s breasts into his hands had become an altogether agreeable pastime—stroking and kneading the lush swellings, teasing the nipples into proud points while she moaned beneath him. Since moving in with her, they’d barely been able to keep their hands off each other. Only Debs’s continued presence helped them keep their sanity at a time when they could so easily have drowned in a plethora of lovemaking. As it was, they had to make time for her too. And they did so with aplomb. Becoming a family had been so easy.
Frankie may have been the bride, but Debs definitely felt like a princess, taking her role of bridesmaid very seriously and with total pride and commitment. Dressed in a pale blue dress, with tiny puff sleeves, and a hemline that skimmed her ankles, she was in her element. She’d done nothing but talk about her beautiful dress for weeks. Her friends were dead jealous. And the lovely locket Jake had given her last night, to wear around her neck, glinted in the autumn sunshine as she fingered it gently, recalling the precious photograph, of herself and her parents, nestling inside.
Jake asked Sam to be his best man. And he readily agreed. It was about time the lad settled down. He’d brought his latest squeeze with him, as his guest. A tall leggy blonde with voluptuous breasts and a wide smiling mouth, she had eyes that twinkled a little too hopefully that Sam might be ready to settle down too.
“Fat chance,” he’d murmured over a few beers last night as Jake teased him over the gleam in her eye.
Frankie asked her best fr
iend Paula to be the second witness. And other than Debs, they would have been quite happy to leave it at that. But once word got out, events just snowballed.
Frankie’s parents were there too.
Her mother, happy to be playing the role of mother-of-the-bride, dabbed her eyes. She was delighted that her lovely daughter had found happiness at last. The guilt over Jake’s treatment twelve years ago had tormented her. But Jake was forgiving, repeating something his mother once said in her more lucid moments: that if you didn’t have bad times, that it made it hard to appreciate the good ones.
Right from the beginning, there’d been an uncomfortable truce between Jake and her father. But even he began to acknowledge he’d never seen his daughter look so radiant, or so happy, as she had since Jake arrived back in her life. And for the first time in his life, a tad of guilt gnawed at his gut. But it was only a tad. He was too tough for all that nonsense. What was, was. And he’d had his reasons for doing what he did. Nevertheless, he swallowed his pride, and put in an appearance; after all, Debs’s granddad had to be there, to see her all dressed up; and his wife would never forgive him if he wasn’t. He was still walking a fine line of trust with her. After years of sitting in the back seat, she was suddenly demanding the driver’s.
Then Carly got wind of it, and the news spread like a bushfire out of control. Before they knew it, she’d organised a little group of their old friends to make the journey down to oversee their big day.
“I always knew you two could shag for England ,” she murmured with a knowing smile, as she spotted Frankie’s thickening waistline and softly rounded belly, that didn’t fit quite so flat beneath the satin skirt any longer. “The way you two were always at it, what’s it going to be then—a football team?”
Frankie felt the heaviness in her lower abdomen grow heavier at the thought of Jake spilling more of his seed into her. And she squeezed his hand as their eyes locked, every ounce of passion passing silently between them. She loved him with a vengeance. And she didn’t need him to tell her he felt the same.