Forgotten Child (18 page)

When Marcos had picked Jenny back up from Chelsea, he had been in a very good mood and was feeling magnanimous. He’d pulled into a Berni Inn close to home and, though it wasn’t exactly fine cuisine, they’d been served a decent enough Sunday roast. Jenny had been pleased, explaining that she’d been nervous about cooking a roast, and Marcos was happy to bask in her gratitude. She’d learn to cook soon enough, and in the meantime Marcos was feeling well satisfied with life. Things had gone well in Battersea and after all these years he’d finally got the hags off his back. It had been worth every penny, and he didn’t feel guilty. He had at last shrugged off his promise to a dying man and now wished he’d done it years ago.

Jenny’s parents would be here soon, Marcos thought as he walked into the drawing room. She’d been busy, one vase of chrysanthemums on the sideboard, and he’d already seen another one on the dining room table. He’d left the gates open, but it wasn’t something
he wanted to make a habit of. New ones were on order, the latest on offer, electric with an entry-phone system to ensure that nobody could gain access without permission. He glanced out of the window and saw a car pulling up behind his on the drive.

‘Jenny, they’re here,’ he said, putting a proprietary arm around her waist. ‘Let’s let them in together.’

‘Yes, all right,’ she agreed, though she looked a little apprehensive.

Marcos had to hide a smile when he opened the door. Delia was dressed to the nines in a brown and white dress, wearing a matching hat with a wide brim as though she had come to some sort of formal reception.

‘Edward, Delia, do come in.’

‘Hello, you two,’ Edward said, hugging Jenny and then Delia following suit.

‘My goodness, this is lovely,’ Delia enthused as her eyes swept the hall before coming to rest on the large crystal chandelier.

‘Come on through to the drawing room,’ Marcos invited.

‘I’ll make some tea.’

‘All right, darling, and while you’re doing that I’ll show your parents around.’

Delia looked puzzled, Edward too, and he was the first to speak as they walked into the room. ‘We expected the house to be empty.’

‘No, I’ve furnished it. My study is next door and
there’s another reception room on the other side of the hall, along with the dining room. Come, I’ll show you.’

‘It’s all delightful,’ Delia murmured as they wandered from room to room until they were back where they started.

‘Please, sit down,’ Marcos invited. ‘I’ll show you upstairs later, but here’s Jenny with the tea.’

It was Delia who at last posed the question. ‘Marcos, have you moved in?’

‘Yes, we both have,’ he said as Jenny placed a tray on a side table.

‘What!’ Edward exploded. ‘But you aren’t married yet.’

‘Oh no, what will people think?’ Delia gasped. ‘Jennifer, you can’t do this.’

‘It’s all right, Jenny, leave this to me,’ Marcos said. ‘Delia, Edward, there’s no need for concern. Yes, we’ve moved in, but as a married couple. We moved the date forward.’

‘But why?’ Delia asked. ‘Oh, Jennifer, you’re not…’

‘Pregnant,’ Jenny finished for her. ‘No, but you’re the second person to jump to that conclusion.’

‘Then why?’ The question this time was from Edward.

‘Dad, we were on holiday in Scotland, and…and as we were already there, we thought why wait until December.’

‘Well, I can’t say I’m happy about it, but it’s done now and I suppose all that remains is to congratulate you both,’ Edward said, face straight as he shook Marcos’s hand. ‘Congratulations and welcome to the family.’

‘But Edward, I’ve booked the Grand Hotel for the reception, and the church.’

‘Well, Delia, I did warn you not to jump the gun and now you’ll just have to cancel them,’ he said, moving to kiss Jenny on the cheek. ‘Congratulations, darling. I suppose this calls for a toast.’

‘Yes, your father’s right,’ agreed Marcos. ‘Leave the tea, Jenny. I’ll open a bottle of champagne.’

‘That’s more like it,’ Edward said.

Once the champagne was poured and Jenny and Marcos were toasted, the atmosphere became lighter.

‘There are some very influential people in this crescent, Marcos,’ said Delia. ‘I think they could perhaps be useful to you. In fact you’re actually living next door to an acquaintance of mine, Penelope Grainger. If you’d like to celebrate your marriage in some way, perhaps with a small reception held here, I could invite Penelope and that might lead to other introductions.’

‘I’m afraid I’m far too busy at the moment.’

‘Oh, you need not concern yourself with the arrangements. You can leave all that to me.’

‘If we wanted to hold a reception in our home, then I would arrange it,’ Jenny said defensively. ‘But
for now it’s out of the question. I want to finish the house, choose soft furnishings among other things.’

As though unaware of Jenny’s chilly manner, Delia said, ‘A delay wouldn’t matter, in fact it could be perfect. Your Aunt Beatrice and her husband are coming back to England in November and I could invite them too. My sister is married to a diplomat, Marcos, and they too are very well connected.’

‘I hardly know them,’ Jenny said.

‘We rarely saw them when you were growing up, but they’re family and I’m sure you’ll agree it will be lovely to see them.’

‘They’re
your
family, not mine.’

Marcos was pleased to see that Jenny was clearly still at odds with Delia, but he was looking for the same thing with her father too. He sat back, biding his time and hoping that an opportunity might arise.

‘Jennifer, please, don’t say that,’ Delia appealed. ‘I hurt you, and I really am sorry, but can’t we make a fresh start? We could do things together, such as shopping, and I could help you to choose your drapes.’

‘I’m perfectly capable of choosing them myself.’

‘I didn’t mean to imply that you couldn’t. Oh…oh dear, I feel like I’m walking on eggshells again.’ And with that, tears filled her eyes.

‘Delia, don’t get upset,’ Edward said worriedly, then turned to Jenny. ‘Can’t you see she’s trying? Can’t you at least give your mother a chance?’

‘She
isn’t
my mother,’ Jenny snapped, and ran from the room.

‘Delia, give her time. She just needs time,’ Edward consoled.

Marcos saw the opportunity and seized it. ‘Yes, he’s right. Jenny needs time, but I fear you’re pushing her again.’

‘But…but I only suggested shopping.’

‘I’m afraid that Jenny sees any suggestions you make as interference. In fact, I hate to tell you this, but when Jenny saw this house she was horrified and didn’t want us to live here.’

‘But why? It’s a lovely house.’

‘She didn’t want to be this close to you.’

As Delia gasped, Edward threw an arm around her, and Marcos saw a flash of anger in the older man’s eyes as he looked up at him.

‘My wife is upset enough. Did you have to tell her that?’

‘I’m sorry, but my concerns are for Jenny and what she’s been through. I persuaded her to move in here, but now I’m starting to regret it. From what I’ve just seen it’s obvious she isn’t ready for a mother-daughter relationship – especially because, from what she’s told me, they never had one in the past.’

‘Now that’s enough!’

‘It’s all right, Edward, and anyway, Marcos is right,’ Delia said, dabbing her eyes. ‘I just don’t know what to do, how to build bridges.’

‘May I make a few suggestions?’ said Marcos.

‘Yes, please do,’ she said.

‘Firstly, as your husband says, give Jenny time, take things very slowly. Now that you’ve found her again, I know you both want to see more of her, but remember it wasn’t Jenny who came to you. She was happily living an independent life, and if you force yourself on her, or if she feels that you’re interfering in any of her decisions, she’ll just back away.’

‘So what you’re saying,’ Edward said, his voice still tinged with anger, ‘is that we should wait until Jenny comes to us?’

‘I’m afraid so. Of course I’ll do all I can to help,’ Marcos lied. ‘With no family of my own now I really appreciate that you’ve welcomed me into yours. But if you’ll excuse me for a moment, I must see if Jenny is all right.’

Marcos left them, hoping he had said enough to ensure that Jenny’s parents now kept their distance. He didn’t want their interference and if it hadn’t worked there were other options. Extreme ones, yes – but it would take them out of the picture.

Jenny was annoyed that she had let Delia get under her skin again. Instead of appearing poised and in control, she had reacted like a child. Delia hadn’t changed, she was still devious, a consummate actress, and just as she’d done in the past, Jenny realised she’d played into
her hands. Delia now appeared like the wronged one, the one who needed sympathy and, as she suspected, her father was falling for it, just as Robin had.

She gripped the kitchen sink, feeling powerless, and now regretted the day her father had found her. She’d been told that Delia wanted to make amends, but Jenny began to wonder what her real motives were. Delia had wanted rid of her, had planned and schemed to drive her out, so why pretend now that she wanted reconciliation?

Unable to work it out, Jenny felt arms wrap around her waist and then Marcos kissed the back of her neck.

‘Are you all right, darling?’

Ashamed of her behaviour, Jenny turned into his arms. ‘I’m sorry, Marcos. I ran from the room like a child.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘But it does. I was so on the defensive that I put myself in a bad light, upset her, and you saw how my father responded.’

‘Yes, and I’m sorry, but I’m afraid it annoyed me. He knows what you’ve been through, but when I jumped to your defence and told Delia a few home truths he was angry with me for upsetting her again.’

Jenny found herself fuming on Marcos’s behalf. Her father was obviously blind when it came to Delia and so he had turned on Marcos, but she
wasn’t going to stand for that. She had run away, leaving Marcos to speak up for her, but she didn’t intend to put him in that position again. ‘I’m going to tell them to leave.’

‘Darling, there’s no need for that. We’ve sorted it out and everything is fine now. Delia won’t interfere again, and they both know that any invitation to see them again must come from you.’

‘After this they’ll be few and far between – if ever. I’m happier when it’s just you and me,’ Jenny said, clinging to Marcos, sure it was true. Her father and Delia had been out of her life for so long, and seeing them again had served only to dredge up bad memories, ones it seemed her father now expected her to simply forget.

‘Are you feeling better now?’ Marcos asked.

‘Yes, thank you. Let’s go back to the drawing room,’ Jenny said, feeling stronger and more determined than ever to tell her parents to leave.

Edward stared at his daughter. She looked so cold, her voice icy as she told them to leave.

‘Jenny, please, there’s no need for this.’

‘I think there is.’

Marcos put an arm around her waist. ‘Jenny is still upset and it might be for the best.’

‘But we’ve barely been here an hour.’

Delia came to his side. ‘Come on, Marcos is right, Edward. We should leave.’

‘So this was your idea, not Jenny’s,’ Edward snapped, eyes glaring hard at Marcos.

‘No, it was mine, ‘Jenny snapped. ‘And don’t speak to my husband like that!’

‘It’s all right, darling,’ Marcos cajoled. ‘It doesn’t matter and I think we should all calm down.’

‘It matters to me.’

‘All right, Jenny, I’m sorry,’ Edward ground out.

‘Why don’t we all sit down?’ Marcos suggested.

‘No, I want them to go.’

Marcos sighed, his tone mellow. ‘I’m sorry, but you heard Jenny and so I’m afraid I must join her in asking you to leave.’

‘Jennifer, I truly am sorry that I upset you,’ Delia said. ‘We’ll go now, so goodbye, my dear. I hope we’ll see you again soon.’

‘Don’t hold your breath,’ Jenny said derisively.

Edward couldn’t believe that this was his daughter. He understood that Jenny had been hurt, that he and Delia had a lot to make up for, but they weren’t being given a chance. Delia was trying so hard, but she was being met with only belligerence. ‘Come on, let’s go,’ he said. ‘Goodbye, Jenny.’

His daughter said nothing and it was Marcos who escorted them to the door. Delia said goodbye to him, but Edward’s mind was still reeling.

‘I’m sorry, Edward,’ Delia said as they got into the car. ‘I did my best.’

‘I know you did.’

‘Marcos was right. Jennifer isn’t ready to forgive me yet, and…and I fear she never will.’

‘I still don’t like the way he spoke to you.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘It does to me, and if you ask me there was something fishy going on.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘When Jenny came back into the room she was so angry, and her anger was aimed at me. Marcos must have said something to her, something that caused it.’

‘He wants to help us so I doubt that. You were rather short with him and as we don’t know where Jenny went it may be that she overheard you.’

Edward pulled into the drive. Yes, that made sense and he’d give Marcos the benefit of the doubt.

‘We’ll have to trust the man to talk Jenny round, and in the meantime we’ll just have to be patient.’

‘Do you think they’ll hold a reception?’

‘Delia, I think that’s the last thing we have to worry about.’

‘I wanted Beatrice and her husband to meet Penelope Grainger.’

Edward sighed with impatience. ‘I hardly think that matters.’

‘Maybe not to you, but it does to me.’

‘Is getting in with that crowd more important than establishing a relationship with Jenny?’

‘No, of course not.’

‘Well, I’m glad to hear it, because it didn’t sound like that to me,’ Edward said, getting out of the car. He was finding that his feelings were all over the place – one minute he was sympathising with Delia, the next with his daughter.

‘I’m sorry, Edward, I know I can be shallow,’ Delia said as she too got out of the car. ‘I spoke without thinking.’

‘We’re both a bit fraught. I don’t know about you, but I could do with a brandy.’