Family Connections

by Family Connections (retail) (epub)

  ‘Yes.’ Mel sounded surprised.

  ‘Well, I’ll go and put my things away, then,’ Gina said.

  As she walked up the stairs she heard Mel say to Lou, ‘I feel so guilty. Mum was planning on a trip to England and now she’s got to stay and look after me. I’m messing up everyone’s lives – Simon’s too.’

  Well, at least Mel understood how she was feeling, Gina thought as the prison bars closed around her. She’d give Lexie a ring tonight, hadn’t seen her and Ben for days. Might as well make the most of living nearer to her younger daughter.

  But no matter how positive she tried to be, she still felt bitterly disappointed.

  CHAPTER 20

  England

  At breakfast the following morning, the dining room was quite full, and the waitress asked Brad if he’d mind sharing a table since they had a lot of singles in the hotel this week.

  ‘Not at all.’

  ‘Choose any table with just one person on it, then.’ She flourished one arm at the room and hurried off.

  He glanced quickly round and his gaze fell on an elderly lady sitting in the bay window. She was very upright but there was a loneliness about her that touched him. He enjoyed the company of old people. When you got them talking, they were usually very interesting and some had done the most amazing things during the Second World War. He went over. ‘Would you mind if I joined you? All the tables are occupied and I’ve been asked to share with someone.’

  Her face brightened visibly. ‘Not at all. I enjoy meeting new people.’

  He went to get himself some juice and fruit from the breakfast bar, then sat down. ‘Are you on holiday?’

  ‘Permanently. I live here at the hotel. It’s much more interesting than an old folks’ home and people don’t die on you all the time.’ She smiled at her own feeble joke and added, ‘I’m Bridie Shapley. Call me Bridie. You Australians prefer first names, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes. And I’m Brad. Is it so obvious that I’m an Australian?’

  ‘It is to me. I used to have an Aussie family living next door, but they went back to the sun. I wished I could go with them. Unfortunately, I was too old to travel on my own by then.’

  Bridie was a mine of information about things to see and do near Blackpool and in the end Brad invited her to go out in his car for a drive.

  She beamed at him. ‘I’d love to, if you don’t mind the fact that I need a pit stop every hour and a half, and can’t walk very fast.’

  ‘I don’t mind at all. I’d welcome some company, actually.’

  ‘Give me half an hour to check my emails and powder my nose and I’m all yours. I’m expecting an important business email about some shares, or I’d not keep you waiting so long.’

  He stared at her in surprise. ‘Email?’

  She shook her head, making a tutting noise. ‘Don’t judge a book by its cover! Us oldies are perfectly capable of navigating the internet. Wrinkles on the face aren’t so wonderful, but wrinkles on the brain store a lot of extra information.’

  ‘Do they really?’

  She gave another of her rasping chuckles. ‘I don’t know, but that’s my theory and I’m sticking to it.’

  First she directed him to drive along the sea front to St Anne’s and they stopped there for a while so that Brad could walk along the beach and Bridie could enjoy the bracing air from the comfort of a seafront shelter. Next she took him inland to a pub she knew which did excellent lunches, insisting on paying for that as a thank you for her day out.

  After they got back to Blackpool, they sat for a while overlooking the sea and she helped him plan what he’d do with his daughter in the Lake District the following Saturday.

  He went out in the evening to stretch his legs and buy some fish and chips, which was a lot cheaper than eating at the hotel. He walked further than he’d intended so it took him a while to get back, by which time he was feeling slightly nervous and had come to the conclusion that some parts of Blackpool didn’t feel all that safe after dark.

  He was looking forward to eating breakfast with Bridie again. He hadn’t realized how lonely he’d been feeling. He was, he supposed, a gregarious type, not a loner. If it had been at all possible, he’d have travelled with someone. But there wasn’t anyone and he didn’t want to put off the travelling any longer. As Bridie had said today, you could get too old to travel. He was fit now. Who knew what he’d be like in another few years? He’d met people who were fit and active at ninety, others who were semi-invalids at sixty. You never knew what life would do to you.

  His son had warned him he’d be lonely and he’d pooh-poohed that, but Michael had been right. Oh, well. Maybe after Brad had sorted out how and when he’d be able to see Rosie, he’d book himself on a guided tour of Europe. There were all sorts of places he wanted to see – Paris, Rome, Greece.

  * * *

  On Friday evening Stu came home in a foul mood after another clash with his headmaster who had got the removalists in to start packing up the contents of the resource centre without consulting Stu, and had tried to include some of Stu’s personal possessions in the first batch.

  ‘I got back just in time to make them unpack my things. That bugger hadn’t even had the courtesy to discuss it with me or ask whether I was using them. And then Binnings had the nerve to ask me whether I’d made the teaching aids in my own time or the school’s, because if it was the latter, they belonged to the centre not me. He even questioned where I’d got the materials for them from and whether I’d worked out the programs on the school’s computer.’

  ‘I remember you deliberately buying your own materials so that they’d belong to you,’ she agreed. ‘And making them at home in the evenings.’ And he’d put untold hours into devising programs the kids would enjoy, ones which made spelling and arithmetic into a game and a challenge.

  ‘Anyway, I soon set him straight about that.’ He gave a snort of indignation. ‘Binnings then had the cheek to say that if I cared for the kids that much, I ought to give the new centre copies of all my programs. I told him altruism went only so far, especially when what you’d done wasn’t appreciated.’

  She watched in surprise as Stu went back out to unload a carrier of six bottles of wine from his car, together with more of his equipment. It wasn’t like Stu to buy booze. He didn’t usually care whether he had a drink in the evening or not. She was the one who enjoyed an occasional glass of wine, so watched out for special offers when she did her grocery shopping.

  ‘Stu, was it worth picking a fight with him? You’ll still have to work with him next year, after all.’

  ‘Yes, it damned well was! What he was doing was deliberately designed to rub it in that I was no longer in charge as far as he was concerned. Well, that’ll backfire on him. If I’m not good enough to run the new centre, then my teaching aids aren’t good enough to use there, either.’

  ‘I’ve told you before: you should try to sell them for publication. It’s brilliant the way you’ve written the reading enrichment program and those games are cute.’

  ‘Maybe I will. In the meantime, let’s open a bottle and drink to the downfall of Binnings and all like him.’

  ‘It’s a bit early to start drinking.’

  ‘Not today, it isn’t.’ He opened the bottle and poured two glasses.

  Rosie came downstairs, picking her way among the boxes in the hall. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Your father’s bringing home his own teaching aids before those belonging to the centre are moved to the new school.’

  ‘Where are you going to store them, Dad? You must have dozens of boxes of things.’

  ‘They can go into the garage. The car will have to stay outside for the time being.’

  Rosie reached across the table for an apple. ‘Well, it’s only for a couple of months, isn’t it? They’ll be going back with you next term.’

  ‘Not necessarily.’

  She caught her mother’s eye, read a warning in it and changed the subject. ‘What do you th
ink I ought to wear on Saturday, Mum?’

  Jane frowned. She hadn’t wanted to raise this yet, but it was too late now. Stu would have to know. ‘Depends where you’re going. Did he say? No? Well, something casual, I suppose.’

  Stu leaned back, glass in hand. ‘If you’re fit enough to go out with a boyfriend, you should have gone back to school today.’

  Rosie saw her mother’s body go tense, though her voice remained casual.

  ‘She’s going out with Brad.’

  The silence that followed was deafening.

  ‘When was this arranged?’

  ‘Yesterday.’

  Stu’s voice took on a sharp edge. ‘And it didn’t occur to anyone to consult me about that? Or am I no longer considered to be her father?’

  Jane made a slight cutting movement with her hand to warn Rosie to leave this to her. ‘You were upset when you came home last night and if you remember, you shut yourself up in the den all evening, so there wasn’t much chance to talk.’

  His voice was heavy with sarcasm. ‘There is a door into the den. You’ve not hesitated to use it before.’

  ‘You were drunk, so it’d have been silly to try to discuss something so important then. Anyway, I’m telling you now, aren’t I?’

  He folded his arms. ‘I don’t like the idea of her spending the day with that man. We don’t know anything about him.’

  ‘Brad’s all right. You can trust him,’ Jane replied.

  Stu’s voice grew even sharper. ‘Correction. I don’t know anything about him. I haven’t even met him. So I’m not actually much inclined to trust him with my daughter’s safety, however highly you think of him. If he wants to see her, if she won’t let this matter drop—’ He broke off to scowl at Rosie. ‘Then he can come here for an hour or two and see her under our supervision.’

  ‘But he’s taking me out!’ Rosie protested. ‘It’s all arranged.’

  ‘Then we’ll just have to un-arrange it, won’t we?’

  She burst into tears. ‘You can’t do that.’

  ‘Can’t I? Strange, but I thought I was your father and you were underage.’

  ‘Stu, you’re not being fair.’

  He swung round to glare at his wife.

  ‘Ganging up on me now? That man has only to turn up and it seems he winds everyone round his little finger. Get this straight, both of you! I don’t want Rosie associating with him. He can see her a couple of times and that’s it! Afterwards he can sod off back to Australia and leave our family alone.’

  ‘Dad, please!’

  ‘I’m not going to change my mind about this!’ he roared, his face a dark red, veins standing out at his temples.

  Sobbing, Rosie rushed upstairs to her room.

  Jane turned to Stu. ‘This means a lot to her. We shouldn’t stop her seeing him.’

  ‘We? It’s you who decided this. I thought we had a pact about backing one another up and you knew exactly how I felt about him.’

  ‘I only said—’

  ‘Or perhaps you’re still carrying a torch for him. Perhaps you want to see him again, too.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous and unfair.’

  ‘Is it? I bring her up, give her everything my own son has and this is the thanks I get. Well, I’m not handing her over to him.’

  ‘Stu, you know adopted children sometimes need to meet their biological parents. What she wants is perfectly reasonable and—’

  ‘And I’m being unreasonable. Well, live with it. I’m not – repeat, not! – changing my mind.’

  She threw up her hands. ‘OK, you’ve made that clear and you won’t discuss it, or even let me say what I want. So you can tell him you’ve put your foot down.’ She plonked a piece of paper down in front of him. ‘There’s the number of his hotel. Ring him up. Beat your chest. Put on your caveman act!’ She spun round, snatched up her handbag and marched out of the house.

  Stu ran after her to the door. ‘Where are you going? Jane! Where are you going?’

  But she didn’t answer just got into her car and drove off.

  He stared after her for a few seconds then looked down at the piece of paper. Mouth a thin, tight line, he went inside, picked up the phone and dialled the number.

  ‘Can I speak to Brad Rosenberry, please?’

  ‘It’ll take us a minute or two to find him – if he’s in the hotel. Can I get him to ring you back?’

  ‘No, it’s urgent. I’ll wait.’

  He took a slurp of wine and sat tapping his fingers on the kitchen table, wishing they wouldn’t pour schmaltzy music into your ears while you were waiting. Then he heard a man’s voice saying, ‘Thank you,’ and someone picked up the phone.

  ‘Hello. Brad here.’

  ‘This is Stuart Quentin, Rosie’s father. I’m afraid I don’t approve of my daughter going out all day with a stranger. If you wish to see her tomorrow, you can come to the house for an hour in the afternoon. Two o’clock.’

  Stu didn’t wait for an answer but slammed the phone down and finished off his glass of wine then sat scowling into the distance. To quote the kids at school. This whole situation sucked big time.

  Muttering ‘Waste not, want not,’ he picked up his wife’s glass of wine with one hand, the bottle with the other and went back into his den.

  Where the hell had Jane gone?

  * * *

  Brad put the phone down, frowning.

  ‘Not bad news, I hope?’ The receptionist gave him a bright professional smile that said she didn’t really care then turned to the next customer.

  He wandered into the bar and ordered a glass of beer. As he turned around, he saw Bridie sitting in a corner reading a magazine and sipping something pink from a tall glass. She wasn’t looking in his direction so he went around to the other side of the bar, needing to be alone yet not wanting to go up to his room, because even the most beautifully decorated hotel room felt soulless and quiet, far too quiet for his present mood.

  What had led to the Quentins’ sudden change of heart about Rosie?

  Was the decision Jane’s or her husband’s?

  Brad took another sip of beer without really tasting it and frowned into space. What was he going to do tomorrow afternoon? Sit in the living room at Jane’s and make stilted conversation in front of a man who clearly resented him? That was no way to get to know his daughter.

  Stu’s voice had sounded angry.

  Brad tried to think how he’d feel if someone turned up and claimed to be Joanna’s biological father? Angry, yes, and jealous too. He could see the other man’s point of view, of course he could, but Stu had always known Rosie had been fathered by someone else. It was hardly a surprise to him.

  He remembered his daughter’s face, the shy hope on it. She had a lovely smile, with Jane’s generous mouth.

  Oh, hell, what a tangle! Whatever he did, someone was going to get hurt.

  Maybe he should go and see Rosie tomorrow then cut his losses and move on?

  He took a sip of beer. No! He’d come ten thousand miles to meet her. She clearly needed to get to know him, too. If he let Stu drive him away, he’d be letting Rosie down, so he’d just have to persuade the Quentins that he wasn’t trying to usurp Stu’s place as father, that all he wanted was to make a place of his own in her life. If they’d let him.

  A group nearby burst into raucous laughter and suddenly he couldn’t stand it any longer. He went outside for a walk, moving from one garishly lit space to another, hearing canned laughter, seeing hucksters and small-time gamblers, lingering to buy some sticky pink and white Blackpool rock and then biting a chunk off and sucking it as he walked along.

  He was lonely. Had been since his wife died, really. Wanted a woman in his life again. Why hadn’t he taken up Judy’s offer, gone out with her?

  Because he wasn’t attracted to her in that way. Even Jane didn’t attract him this time round.

  He had always been better at making friends with women than romancing them. The thought of chatting someone up made him cri
nge. How did one do it these days? Not to mention making love to a woman for the first time…

  Oh, hell, he didn’t know what he wanted, just – something, someone, not to be alone any longer. This trip had proved that to him already.

  * * *

  Upstairs, Rosie and Casey looked at one another as their mother’s car door slammed and she drove off.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she asked.

  ‘More to the point, what about tea?’

  ‘Trust you to think of your stomach.’

  He patted his almost concave belly. ‘I’m a growing boy.’ He put one hand to his ear as the door to the den banged shut. ‘Hark! I hear sounds of a man in retreat. Stay here and I’ll go and see whether it’s safe to get some food.’

  ‘I’m not hungry.’

  ‘Well, I am.’ He hesitated near the door of her bedroom. ‘I’ll bring you something up, eh?’

  She shook her head and stayed where she was, sitting on the edge of the bed, hands clasped, waiting for something. She didn’t know what.

  A few minutes later Casey came up with a plate of doorstep sandwiches, but she couldn’t face eating so he demolished them, leaving one for her for later.

  ‘I don’t know where you put it,’ she commented as he opened a can of lemonade to wash everything down.

  He smiled and moved to sprawl on the floor beside her bed, leaning against it while he fiddled with her school bag straps. When she didn’t speak, he shot a quick glance sideways. ‘Don’t give up, Rosie. Dad’s wrong about this. He’s chucking a wobbly because of his job.’

  ‘It’s not my fault he didn’t get the new job. Though if he spoke to the headmaster the way he speaks to us sometimes, I’m not surprised. He’s no diplomat, that’s for sure.’

  Casey let out a snort of laughter. ‘No, it’s Mum who smoothes the path in our family.’

  ‘She’s not getting very far with smoothing things this time. Dad must have said something nasty for her to storm off in a huff. Wonder where she’s gone.’

  ‘Who knows?’