by Jen Silver
Lynne followed this by looking up seal sanctuaries and their locations around the UK. The one in Norfolk was probably the most accessible from London. It was just possible, she thought, that if Jay Reid did have a personal connection with the deceased Charlotte—she felt she was on first-name terms with the biologist now—they could have property on the Norfolk coast. Charlotte would likely have wanted to be close to her subjects. Was this where Jay spent her weekends? It would be a half-day drive but perfect for a complete getaway from the city.
†
Ritchie dashed ahead of them, barking at an incoming wave and leaping out of the way before the water reached his paws.
They were an odd-looking procession. Dougie carried the portable windbreak and two of the folding chairs; Josh followed with the other chair and the picnic hamper. He’d wanted to wear his Stetson, but the gusty breeze had dissuaded him. Jay brought up the rear, trying to keep the two bottles of champagne upright, clutching them close to her body to make sure they didn’t get shaken up too much.
The beach was deserted. This time of year there wasn’t much traffic anyway. Only the odd twitcher now and again. When they reached their usual spot, Dougie set up the windbreak. Once the chairs were unfolded, the hamper and bottles safely deposited nearby, Jay stood between the two men. With linked arms they gazed out to sea. Ritchie knew his part in the ritual and joined them, lying down next to Josh and resting his head on his paws.
Jay closed her eyes; so many memories of Charley tumbled through her mind. But one that stood out clearly was the scene in the hotel room in the aftermath of her Wimbledon win. The first time Charley said I love you. Winning one of the tennis world’s greatest prizes couldn’t match that feeling of joy when Charley whispered those three words in her ear. Amanda had said the same words to her many times over the last six months. But they didn’t have the same effect. Jay shook her head, opening her eyes to concentrate on the sea. Today was about Charley. Amanda had no place here.
There was no set time for their meditations. They all seemed to know when it was done and broke the link together. No words were needed as they set about the task of unpacking the picnic hamper, and opening and pouring the champagne to raise a silent toast to the woman who had affected all their lives deeply.
The cottage felt empty after Dougie had gone. Ritchie was asleep by the fire, tired out from the morning’s excursion. Jay thought Josh had gone into his bedroom but then saw that the attic hatch was open. He’d pulled the ladder up, an indication he wanted to be on his own.
Jay pottered about in the kitchen, tidying up the breakfast debris and the remains of the picnic. She had offered to drive Dougie to King’s Lynn, but he’d insisted on taking a taxi. Whatever his plans were, he wasn’t sharing. Having spent most of the past year in Alberta, he no doubt had some catching up to do with other friends.
“But it’s quiz night at the sex tent,” Josh had exclaimed when Dougie told them he wasn’t staying for another night. The Sextant was their local pub, just over a mile away in the village. Some incomers had started a petition a few years back to have the pub name changed to The Anchor. But the landlord had stood firm and told the instigators that if they didn’t like it, they could take their custom elsewhere. That would have meant a journey of ten miles to the next drinking establishment, so The Sextant remained, proud of its nautical heritage.
With the light starting to fade, Jay stoked up the fire, adding another log. They would have to make a decision on whether they were staying in to eat or heading down to the pub. She called up to Josh and getting no answer, pulled the cord to release the ladder.
He was huddled in the small space between the trunk and wall, hugging his knees to his chest. The old photo album lay open by his side. She couldn’t see his expression in the gloom, but she didn’t need to. Jay had spent many hours up here herself in the same position. The trunk held Charley’s clothes and the few items of jewellery she had owned. And the album of photographs from their early days together.
“Come on down, love. If you don’t feel like going out we’ve got enough food in for a meal.”
Josh lifted his head. “Dougie finished off the beer, though.”
“Ah. Well, better get a move on, then. Or the best seats will be taken.” She withdrew her head from the hatch and backed down the narrow metal steps.
They rarely competed well in the pub quiz. Without Dougie’s superior knowledge on any sports-related questions, they were generally pleased if they didn’t finish last.
Josh and Ritchie slept for the first part of the journey back to London on Sunday. After their pit stop at Mildenhall, Josh offered to drive the rest of the way, but Jay knew he’d drunk more than she had at The Sextant and she felt refreshed from the injection of caffeine and sugar at the café.
Chapter Four
Secrecy and lies. Tess was like a terrier with a bone when she was on the trail of a good story. A quality that helped tremendously when tracking down other people’s stories. Alice’s observation when she finally told her what she was trying to do had hit home.
“Now you know how it feels. Maybe you should leave it alone.”
“It’s all right for you. You know who your parents are.”
“So do you. Donna and Cheryl.”
“It’s not the same. They adopted me. Paid for me.”
“Look. They wanted you. Loved you. Even though you’re a pain in the arse, they still do. A lot of babies don’t get that.”
“It wasn’t even a proper surrogacy, though. None of their eggs were involved. I’m the product of Charlotte Summersbridge and Stewart Reid.”
“Sounds like they were both very fine people. So what’s your problem?”
Tess had left it alone then. Their Sunday had passed off peacefully, meeting two other friends for brunch, then binge-watching three episodes of The Crown on Netflix.
As Monday wore on, trying and failing to concentrate on the story her editor expected her to finish by six o’clock, she couldn’t shake off the feeling she was missing something. On Google Maps, Tess brought up the address she’d memorised. Social climbers in that part of Notting Hill often referred it to as North Kensington.
With a decision made, she buckled down and made the deadline with just seconds to spare. After a tense wait that felt like hours but was only five minutes, her editor emailed her back with a few minor amendments. Leaving the building at six thirty, she only hoped Jay Reid didn’t work a nine-to-five, or even ten-to-six day.
Tess liked her flexible hours mainly because she could miss the commuting crush. The tube trains would still be crowded at this time, and if it was a bright summer’s evening, she would have walked, enjoying a stroll through Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens. But a dark October early evening wasn’t tempting. Bracing herself for an uncomfortable ten-minute journey, she joined the scrum jostling for position on the platform. It was a wonder, she thought, that more people didn’t end up on the tracks in front of oncoming trains. She had to let the first train go but just managed to squeeze into a space by the door of the second one.
†
Jay finished typing up her notes on the last client of the day. Although people arrived at the clinic for various treatments, she discouraged her staff from referring to them as patients. Most of them came for physiotherapy sessions after hip or knee operations. Her own specialty wasn’t generally recognised by the medical community as a valid treatment. Much as acupuncture had been scorned when it first started to be practiced outside China, it would take time for cranial-sacral therapy to be recognised as anything more than some kind of mystical witchcraft. In less enlightened times, she would probably have been burned at the stake.
The woman she had just spent an hour with who had come in barely able to stand upright from the pain in her back and legs had practically run out of the building claiming to have been “cured.” Jay didn’t believe in miracles, but she was pleased with the result.
She switched off her computer and picked up her ph
one. There was one message from Amanda. It just said, Dinner with dad Claridges 8:15, don’t be late. Jay sighed. Meeting her soon-to-be father-in-law was something she wasn’t looking forward to. She certainly didn’t want to sit through a three-hour-long multi-course tasting menu if that was the only option. Having googled his name, she expected him to arrive wearing a white sheet, his political views appearing to be on the extreme far right of the spectrum. Did he know his daughter was marrying a woman?
Seven o’clock now, so no need to rush. She was caught up with her work, having taken the morning off to go to the tattoo parlour with Josh. The memory of their shared experience would sustain her through this dinner engagement and fending off questions from Amanda later when she saw the redness surrounding the new image on her skin. It was only partially done. They were going back next week to have colours added. Resisting the urge to scratch the newly disturbed area of skin on her upper arm, she checked her diary for the next day.
A knock on the door was followed by it opening quickly. Ross Cooper, the head physio, stood there looking red-faced. “Sorry, boss. But she insisted on seeing you. I did tell her to make an appointment.”
The young woman who pushed past him was instantly recognisable. Tess perched on the edge of the visitor’s chair, piercing her with a look that Jay knew only too well.
“Thanks, Ross. It’s okay. Have a good evening.”
When the door closed, Jay sat back and waited. It had always worked with Charley. Whatever she’d done to merit the angry stare would soon be revealed.
“You knew, didn’t you?”
“Knew what?”
“Knew who I am. Made me drive all the way to sodding Norfolk and didn’t say a word about her or your brother.”
“I didn’t know, until I saw you.”
“You’re my aunt.” Tess’s angry tone hadn’t lessened.
Jay looked at the ceiling and counted to ten before she said anything she might regret. “Biologically speaking, yes.” She brought her gaze back to the younger woman’s intense glare. “Have you talked to your parents about this?”
“Yes. But they can’t tell me much. I only found out this weekend that your brother was the sperm donor and that he was gay.”
“What does that have to do with the price of eggs?”
“I would just like to know more about my biological parents. And you’re the only person who knew them both intimately.”
A silence hung between them as Jay considered her response, wavering between anger and sorrow. She could see that Tess wasn’t going to give up easily. Her expression held the same fire and intensity she’d so often seen on Charley’s face. After a few deep breaths, she managed to say calmly, “I lost two people I loved. Intimately.”
“I know, but….”
“But, if I’m going to talk to you about them, and it’s still a big if, then I have to know I’m talking to my niece, not an investigative journalist.”
“It’s quite a story. People will only have the deepest sympathy for all the losses in your life. First, your parents at a young age, then both your brother and your lover in extreme circumstances.”
“Yes. A right little misery memoir that would a publishing sensation, I’m sure. But it’s not going to happen, Tess.” It wasn’t just her memories she wanted to protect. Jay couldn’t expose Josh to the media glare. Thankfully, Tess wasn’t aware of his existence. Not yet, anyway.
Tess didn’t drop her gaze. Jay looked away first and knew she’d lost a point. Fifteen-love to her opponent.
“Look. I’ve got a dinner engagement tonight. But we could meet up later in the week.”
“You’re not putting me off, are you? And I’m not driving to the arse-end of Norfolk again.”
“Hm. Too bad. You could learn a lot there.”
“You’re not serious!”
“No. Just messing.” Jay opened the diary on her phone. “Thursday evening would be okay. Here at the clinic.”
“Great.” Tess didn’t even consult her own calendar. “What time?”
“Six thirty.”
“Okay. Thank you.” Tess stood. “Sorry about barging in on you.”
“No problem. Just don’t make a habit of it.”
After the girl left, Jay sat for a few minutes, wondering why she’d given in so easily. Was it just the unsettling resemblance to Charley? She lived with that every day through Josh. The unwelcome thought came to her that Mo was probably right. She needed to let her memories of Charley go. Twenty-three years was a long time to hang on to a ghost.
†
“I’m sure she’ll be here any minute.” Amanda could see the signs. Her father’s blood pressure was rising. “She may have had trouble getting a taxi. The rain’s started again.”
“Five more minutes, then we’ll start without her. Damned thoughtless, if you ask me.”
Jay walked through the door of the restaurant before her father could develop his theme on people who were late any further.
“Well, you can relax. She’s here now.” Amanda smiled, relief coursing through her as Jay threaded her way easily past the other tables to reach them.
“Sorry to keep you waiting; a client came in just as I was leaving. One of my regulars, so I couldn’t turn him away.” Jay extended her right hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mr Bowen.”
He ignored her and picked up his menu. “Good. We can order now.”
Amanda tapped his arm. “Dad, please….”
“Let’s just get on with it, shall we?”
Jay remained standing. Amanda knew the signs well; the fuse once lit didn’t take long to ignite. “If you can’t show me any respect, you could at least make an effort for your daughter’s sake.”
A grunt was all she got in response as he continued to peruse the menu, although Amanda knew he’d chosen what he wanted minutes after they arrived.
“Fine. Enjoy your meal, sir.” Jay laid a heavy emphasis on the last word, turned on her heel and walked out.
Whatever she’d expected from their meeting, Amanda had thought they might at least have got through the main course.
“Are we having red or white?”
Amanda replaced her napkin on the table as calmly as she could manage. “You have whatever you want. You’re dining on your own now.”
He made no attempt to stop her as she picked up her handbag and stood. When she looked back from the entrance to the restaurant, he was talking to the sommelier.
Amanda made her way outside and lingered under the awning, hesitating to venture out into the misty drizzle. Jay reached her side at the same time as a taxi pulled up.
“Come on, love. Let’s go home.”
Hearing the word home from Jay brought a rush of joy mingled with relief through her entire body. When Jay gave the driver the address to the flat, Amanda’s happiness level soared. Her father’s disapproval of her chosen partner faded into the background. She snuggled against Jay, enjoying the feel of her arm around her shoulders.
†
Jay had been prepared to play nicely with Amanda’s father. She didn’t know how she’d managed to control herself after his overt snub. In another location, she might have given in to the temptation to spit on his bald patch. However, Claridge’s wasn’t the place to cause a scene that would probably be recorded by another diner and all over social media before she’d left the building.
She wondered, briefly, as she stood on the pavement, whether Amanda would stay to try to placate her parent. But she’d hardly had time to realise she was getting wet waiting for the taxi she’d ordered when Amanda came out.
Neither of them spoke until they were inside the flat. Amanda hung her coat up in the closet by the door and held her hand out for Jay’s jacket.
“Are you hungry?” Amanda placed her shoes on the mat. As she stood on the parquet flooring in her stockings, her head only reached the top of Jay’s shoulders.
“Hungry for you, yes.” She bent her head to kiss Amanda’s slightly parted lips, inviting he
r in.
The way her lover’s body responded to the slightest touch never failed to ignite Jay’s carnal instincts. Giving Amanda what she clearly craved was easy, but Jay was often left feeling dissatisfied. Something that had never troubled her when making love with Charley.
Their stomachs growled in unison. Jay put her hand on Amanda’s belly, feeling it under her fingers, still trembling from her last orgasm. “Guess we need feeding.”
“I don’t think I can move.”
Jay rose on one elbow, leaning over her. “Well, I can.” She glanced at the bedside clock. “Time to get up anyway.”
“There’s not much in if you want something to eat here. You have a choice of baked beans on toast, or cereal, or both.”
“A coffee will do for starters. I’ll pick something up on my way to the clinic.” Jay sat up and stretched before getting out of bed. After a quick trip to the bathroom, she returned to the bedroom to retrieve her clothes from the floor where they lay in a haphazard pile, hastily discarded the night before.
“Aren’t you going to have a shower?” Amanda had pulled the duvet close around her body, only her head showing.
“I can take one at work. I have a change of clothes there.” Jay finished dressing and walked through to the kitchen and switched the kettle on. She then texted Josh to remind him to take Ritchie for a walk.
Amanda’s kitchen had all modern conveniences but one. Jay located the coffee-filter papers and tin of ground coffee. She knew there was a cafetière lurking in one of the cupboards, but Amanda claimed she didn’t like the taste of the coffee from it. The first thing she would buy if she moved in would be a coffee maker.
But could she live here? Tower Bridge loomed outside the window. A view a lot of people would find charming. Jay felt oppressed by it. The garden at the back of the mews house was small, but it was an inviting patch of greenery. A private and peaceful space in the midst of the bustling city. Staying in Amanda’s flat for any length of time gave her a feeling of claustrophobia, which she couldn’t adequately explain when the views from the living room offered an expansive vista of the Thames to the west.