Where I Found You (36 page)

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Authors: Amanda Brooke

BOOK: Where I Found You
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Like Jenny, the burden of knowledge was impossible for Maggie to contain but she would have to lead Elsie gently towards the revelation and then hope against hope that she would keep up with her. ‘When you were twenty-two, you fell in love,’ Maggie began, aware her voice was shaking. ‘You gave your heart to Freddie and when you lost him, you wanted to hold on to the one thing you had left, the baby you were carrying. But you gave your baby up because you thought she would have a better life with Anne Walters and her husband. Do you remember that, Elsie?’

There was no indication that Elsie was listening, but Maggie carried on as if she was.

‘You went on to marry a wonderful man and had two more daughters, Nancy and Yvonne. You had a happy, fulfilling life but you never forgot Tess and maybe, as the years went by, you began to doubt whether or not you made the right decision.’

Whenever Maggie wanted to reach out to Elsie, she would offer her hand and more often than not, Elsie would grasp it. But today Maggie’s hands were firmly planted on the bench, still searching for that elusive connection. Shadows danced across her face as the sun dipped in and out of the clouds and the breeze that swirled around her sapped the moisture from her lips. Her mouth felt dry and her throat strained as she tried to contain the desperation in her voice. ‘You told me not so long ago that if I could tell you what happened to Tess then you would find your way back,’ she said. ‘Elsie, I think I’ve found your daughter.’

She had arranged to meet Aunt Flo at noon in the park. It was a glorious summer’s day and Elsa had warmed herself beneath the sun’s rays as she waited; and waited; and waited. After only half an hour, her excitement had begun to wane as doubt crept in. An hour later and the knot of fear growing inside her felt heavier than the baby she had once carried. Two hours later and the first tear slipped down her face. When four hours had crawled by and Aunt Flo still hadn’t arrived, Elsa had stopped scanning the top of the embankment for her first glimpse of her baby. She was looking out over the lake now, ignoring the polite hellos from passers-by. When she began to sob uncontrollably, Elsa thought she would never stop but at some point she lost herself to her grief and fell into an uneasy trance.

All she wanted was to hold her baby just one more time so she could tell Tess that she would always be loved and to beg her forgiveness. She would never feel complete, she knew that, but she might be able to find an uneasy peace that would allow her to get on with the rest of her life. She might even consider returning the attention of the persistent postman who was determined to make her smile. Maybe one day she could be happy again. But if she couldn’t find some kind of absolution, then what was the point in carrying on? The lake glinted in the sunshine.

Five hours passed but time had lost all meaning because Elsa had no intention of leaving the park. Without warning she stood up and began to walk, her pace brisk as if late for an appointment. She didn’t stop at the slipway or when the shock of the cold water took her breath away. She forced her way forward even though her feet slipped on the slime at the bottom of the lake and when she fell forwards, she refused the final breath as she plunged beneath its surface. She waited calmly for her burning lungs to stop fighting for air and only began thrashing when arms grabbed at her to pull her from the water. She put up a good fight but was eventually manhandled back to the bench by a passer-by. Aunt Flo had been called and arrived soon after, empty-handed and full of apologies. Elsa could hear voices around her now, more promises that would be broken but she wasn’t listening. Her mind had taken her to a place where no one could reach her.

Maggie’s pulse was racing as she listened for even the smallest indication that Elsie understood what she had said. Still nothing.

‘Elsie, I really need you to say something,’ Maggie said, aware she was begging. ‘Right now I’m keeping your secret safe but I don’t know where to go from here. I need you to tell me what to do next.’

At first the silence that followed was broken only by the disgruntled ducks but then a voice filled the void.

‘You found her?’

Maggie turned towards the sound of Ted’s voice and the first tear slipped down her cheek. ‘Why won’t she answer? She promised me she would find a way back.’

‘She still has her good days,’ he told her. ‘This just isn’t one of them.’

She was about to reply when Elsie stood up. Maggie grabbed frantically for the old lady’s arm but Mrs Milton moved faster than her stiffened joints should have allowed. She strode towards the lake but Ted was there to save her, as he always would be.

‘It’s all right, Elsie, love. I’ve got you,’ he reassured her.

Elsie’s mournful wails as she fought off her husband were painful to hear and there was nothing Maggie could do to help. Her dream of reuniting mother and daughter was turning into the nightmare everyone had warned her it would be.

Slowly but surely Ted soothed his wife who was still refusing to utter a single word. ‘I’d better take her home,’ he said.

Maggie summoned up the courage to ask the question she didn’t want answering. ‘I’ve found Tess too late, haven’t I?’

‘Where there’s life …’

Maggie put her hand over her mouth to hold back her emotions until she was calm enough to speak. ‘I don’t know what to do. Tess isn’t a faceless stranger any more and I came here hoping for Elsie’s permission to approach her. I can’t take the decision on my own.’

‘Then ask her other mother. Ask Anne.’

It was only when James slipped onto the bed next to her that Maggie realised she had fallen asleep. He kissed the back of her neck, his lips warm against her cold skin. The patchwork quilt hadn’t been quite thick enough to protect her from the afternoon chill.

‘What time is it?’ she asked.

James was lying on top of the quilt, his body gently spooning Maggie’s. He wrapped an arm around her waist and traced his fingers across her stomach. ‘Gone six.’

Maggie groaned as she pushed back against him, a reaction not to her stiffened joints but to the roiling wave of emotions that coursed through her body as she remembered what she had done. ‘I should get up.’

‘No,’ James told her, tightening his grip oh so slightly. ‘It’s nice to see you taking Mel’s advice for once. I hope you didn’t exert yourself too much in the park with Harvey?’

‘We weren’t out long.’

‘So there weren’t any detours to see the Miltons?’

On that one matter at least, Maggie’s conscience was clear. ‘I didn’t need to; I bumped into them by the lake.’

‘How was she?’

Maggie played with the soft satin edging of the quilt, having resisted the urge to pull it over her head. ‘Not the Elsie I know and love.’

Without warning, a dull pain pulled Maggie’s abdomen taut. James felt her body tense. ‘Are you OK?’

It took a moment for Maggie to catch her breath. ‘Yes, it’s only a Braxton Hicks contraction, those practice ones Mel told us about that prepare my body for the real thing.’

‘You’re sure?’ James asked, pushing up on to his elbow and leaning over her. She could feel his heart hammering against his chest wall.

‘Yes, I had one earlier today.’

James lay back down and together they remained still for a while, both waiting for the next contraction. When it didn’t happen, they began to relax a little.

‘I
will
start taking things easier,’ Maggie said.

‘Would that be a confession that you haven’t been?’ When Maggie didn’t answer, James added, ‘I think I should cut back on work and start staying home more.’

‘It’s too soon; maybe next week,’ Maggie suggested. She didn’t want James finding out what she was up to, not yet. With her blood pressure still high, he was hardly going to approve of plans that made Maggie’s stress levels soar just thinking about them.

The warm draught from James’s throaty laugh prickled the back of her neck. ‘I should have known it was impossible to clip your wings. I suppose I have your mum to thank for that.’

Maggie hugged the quilt closer still. ‘I miss her so much,’ she said, a tremor in her voice.

‘She was an amazing woman.’

‘Yes, she was. It must have been so hard for her to find that balance between protecting me and letting me find my own way. I suppose it’s difficult for any mum to let go.’

‘Would you be including my mum in that observation?’

Maggie had actually been thinking of Elsa. ‘Possibly.’

‘The difference is that while your mum gave you wings, mine gave me a route map.’

‘Your mum interferes because she wants what’s best for you. She sees a single path for you to follow, one that she thinks will keep you safe and happy.’

‘I know.’

‘And I think the message has got through to her that your happiness includes me.’

James pressed his head against hers as if her optimism could be transferred by osmosis. ‘That doesn’t automatically mean she’s going to make you happy too. I can put up with her interference – I’ve had a lifetime getting used to it – but it’s you I’m worried about. I’m not sure you could cope with her, despite all your good intentions.’

‘It would be a shame not to try.’

‘Would it help if I said I’ll think about it after the baby’s born?’ he asked cautiously. ‘But only once we’ve settled into our new routines and we know what we’re doing.’

Maggie bit her lip. She ought to be delighted and relieved by the breakthrough but Judith was about to make a reappearance in their lives much sooner than James could possibly imagine.

26

When Maggie opened the front door, fresh air curled around her, leaving a scented trail of damp grass and decaying leaves. She fought an impulse to rush past her visitor and flee to the park.

‘Come in,’ she said.

‘Thanks, Maggie. Thank you so much.’ Judith still sounded as nervous as she had the day before when Maggie had phoned. The conviction she had once held about what was best for her family had been shattered and the formidable matriarch had shrunk back to more human proportions. Of course Maggie was only making this assumption from a single phone call and a greeting on her doorstep. It would take time to tell if her mother-in-law was ready to let her son lead his own life.

‘You look so well,’ Judith said. ‘It’s good to see you.’

‘I’m just sorry your son isn’t here to greet you too.’

‘Still, it’s good to see you,’ Judith repeated.

Maggie led the way into the kitchen and, as she set about brewing the tea, Judith made a fuss of Harvey, something that surprised the dog as much as it did his mistress. The conversation between the two women was stilted at first. They opted for safe topics such as their husbands’ renewed interest in golf which was far easier than confronting the past – or the immediate future for that matter. Maggie had yet to explain to Judith her reasons for asking her to accompany her on a visit to see Anne Walters.

Neither was in a frame of mind to sit and relax so they stayed in the kitchen but it wasn’t long before Maggie abandoned her mug of tea on the counter top. She was too sick with nerves to stomach it and wondered, not for the first time that day, if she was doing the right thing. The midwife had told her to avoid stress and yet she was about to charge straight into the eye of a storm. But there was no choice – she had to act now. A little more of Elsie’s life was being erased with each passing day but there was another reason time wasn’t on her side.

‘What is it?’ Judith asked when she saw Maggie grimace.

‘Only a twinge,’ she said, dismissing yet another practice contraction. She’d had a couple during the night too. ‘Would you like to see the nursery?’

Judith had last seen the room when it had been stripped bare and she gasped at the transformation. With barely two weeks to go, the nursery was more than ready to receive the new addition to the Carter family, but rather than the smell of fresh paint and clean linen, it was jasmine with just a hint of lavender and rose that greeted Judith. The colour scheme complemented the aromas perfectly. The butter-cream walls provided a soothing backdrop to the swirling meadows of pink and blue flowers on the soft furnishings, blooms bright enough to tempt the bumble bees hanging from a mobile above the baby’s bed.

‘James made the cot,’ Maggie explained and couldn’t resist sweeping her fingers across the carving on the headboard where she followed a trail of leaping rabbits. It had been a labour of love.

‘It’s beautiful. And this baby quilt too, where did you get it, Maggie?’

‘I made it,’ she answered proudly. ‘It’s not quite as good as the ones my mum used to make, and I did get some help from Jenny, but I think Mum would approve.’

‘Your little one is lucky to have such talented parents.’

Maggie wondered where this woman had been hiding for the last two years. Perhaps there was something in Maggie’s smile that gave Judith the courage to speak more openly. ‘I know when we spoke yesterday you said that what was done was done and we should put it all behind us, but I really do need to explain myself.’

‘Honestly, Judith, you don’t have to. I know you made that call to social services before we had both said our piece at Kathy’s house. It really doesn’t matter what happened before then.’

‘It matters to James, and I wouldn’t blame him if he never forgave me,’ Judith said quietly as if she were afraid to say it out loud. She swallowed hard before adding, ‘I betrayed my own son, Maggie. I betrayed both of you and I’m so, so sorry for what I did.’

In a room brimming with hope for the future, the desolation in Judith’s voice tore at Maggie’s heart. ‘If you need my forgiveness, then you have it.’

‘And James?’ Judith asked, her voice quaking.

‘You’re his mum. He loves you and he will forgive you … eventually.’

‘But he was so angry that day when he phoned me. He’s never been like that before. It scared me, Maggie.’

‘I think it scared him too.’

‘It’s because he loves you so much. You’re his priority and I understand that now more than ever. Would it offend you if I told you that I’ve been the one who’s been blind?’

‘No, it wouldn’t but I’d add that we’ve both had our eyes opened in the last few months. James isn’t going to be the pushover he once was.’

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