‘Autumn,’ her father said by way of greeting. No hug. No kiss. ‘We’re just finishing supper. Come through.’
They were sitting at a table in the kitchen opposite each other, a plate of cold meats and cheese between them.
‘Hello, darling.’ Her mother, fork in hand, looked up from the pile of legal papers that were next to her plate. ‘Have you eaten?’
‘Yes,’ she said.
‘Wine?’
‘That would be nice.’
Her father poured her a glass and she took off her coat, hung it on the back of one of the spare seats and then sat down. In any other family, this would be a nice, cosy scene, Autumn thought.
‘What are you doing with your days?’ her father asked.
Which was the same as asking if she’d found a job yet. She hated the fact that at her stage in life she was still entirely dependent on her parents. They paid for her flat, a not ungenerous allowance went into her bank account every month and yet the one thing that she wanted from them was never on offer. Their time and their love was doled out piecemeal, as it always had been.
‘I’m considering my options.’ It sounded as if she was dodging the question, but she wasn’t. She literally had no idea which direction her life should take. She wanted to settle down with Miles, have another baby – one who would stay in her care. But, beyond that, she just wasn’t entirely sure what the future held.
‘You wanted to see us about something?’ her mother asked.
It showed the state of their relationship that she couldn’t simply drop in without reason. They knew so little about her life. She hadn’t even told them about Miles or Flo.
‘Yes.’ She tucked her hair behind her ear. ‘I have something to tell you.’
Perhaps it was the tone of her voice, but they did both have the grace to pay attention. Autumn took a strengthening swig of her wine before she said, ‘I’ve found Willow.’
There was no recognition on either of their faces.
‘My daughter,’ she added.
Even then, it took a moment to register with them both. Her mother flushed scarlet.
‘She’s a beautiful young woman now,’ Autumn continued.
Her mother took off her glasses and laid them on the table. Autumn noticed her hand was shaking. ‘Oh, my.’
‘She’s fourteen now.’ Her mouth was drying. ‘The same age as when I had her.’
‘Autumn,’ her mother said. ‘I can understand you wanting to see her. But are you sure this is the right thing to do? This could cause an awful lot of upset. It’s all in the past now.’
She turned on her mother and spoke crisply. ‘Do you really think that? How can you possibly imagine that it’s in the past for me? Not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought about her and wondered where she was. I have regretted my decision every single hour of my life.’
‘Well,’ her mother said, tightly. ‘What else could we have done? We did what was best. You were in a terrible state.’
‘I was a child. I needed your support.’
‘You needed us to protect you. We had to sort out the mess you’d made. Daddy and I couldn’t have looked after a baby for you.’ She looked at her husband for his approval and he nodded in agreement.
‘Your mother’s right. We have very busy careers.’
‘You could have thrown money at it, like you always do. I could have left school, had home tutors, had a nanny to help me. There were a dozen different scenarios that could have worked if the will had been there.’
‘I don’t think so, Autumn,’ her father said. ‘It was the only solution.’
‘It was the quickest and easiest for you. My wishes weren’t even considered. You wanted my baby swept under the carpet and that’s exactly what happened.’
Her mother’s eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t know how you can say that. You knew nothing of life, Autumn. Otherwise you wouldn’t have found yourself in that situation. You barely knew the boy. From what I recall, he was a casual labourer at the school.’
‘He was a gardener.’
Her mother pursed her lips. ‘Could he have looked after you? What future was there in it?’
‘We’ll never know, will we?’
‘You jumped into bed with the first person who asked. That’s no way to behave.’
‘All I wanted was some affection, some love.’
‘Well,’ her mother folded her arms. ‘You certainly got more than you bargained for then.’ She snorted. ‘Affection.’
‘You had no idea how lonely I was. I loathed every minute I was at that school.’
‘It’s the finest school that money can buy,’ her father said.
‘And look what good it did me and Richard.’ Tears burned behind her eyes. ‘You packed us both off to school as soon as you possibly could, without a backward glance. You couldn’t even bear to look after your own children, let alone my baby. We were never anything other than an inconvenience to you.’
Both of her parents had blanched.
‘You know that isn’t true,’ her mother insisted. ‘We did our best.’
‘It wasn’t good enough,’ Autumn said. ‘Richard and I were everything to each other because we had no one else. You were never there for either of us. Even when we came home for the school holidays you hardly saw us. There was always something else you had to attend to.’
‘You had excellent care.’
‘We had a string of nannies. Some better than others. Even if you took us abroad, you’d be socialising with your friends while we were left to entertain ourselves.’ Now that she’d started, she felt as if a dam had burst inside her. All the hurt of her childhood years came pouring out. Things that she’d never said to her parents before were rushing to the tip of her tongue. ‘We were desperately unhappy children and both of us struggled for years. Richard never did find what he was looking for.’
‘Your brother is an entirely different matter,’ her father said. ‘He was very troubled.’
‘And you left him to sort it out all by himself. He needed you. I did all I could, but he needed you, too. You’re his parents. Yet you were never there for him.’
‘I beg to differ,’ her father said. ‘We bought him a place to live – a very nice one. Paid for his rehab. Time and time again.’
‘But did you ever sit and talk to him? Did you ever want to know what he felt like inside? Did you spend an evening with him where you didn’t lecture him about being a waste of space?’ Her blood was boiling. Even talking about Richard still caused her so much pain. ‘You’ve never even grieved for him. You don’t even mention him. It’s as if he never existed. I don’t even know if you remember that you had a son.’
‘I’m sorry you feel like that.’ Her father was grim faced.
‘We gave you everything,’ her mother said, a note of sadness in her voice.
‘Not the things we needed.’ She fixed her eyes on her mother. ‘All I ever wanted was for you to love me, and it seemed as if that was just too much to ask of you. All you ever cared about was money and status.’
Her parents sat there looking stunned. It wasn’t surprising, as she’d never spoken to them like that before. She’d always been the good daughter, kowtowing to their wishes. Not anymore. As soon as she could, she’d get a job, stand on her own two feet and would cut them out of her lives. They were toxic and she wanted nothing more to do with them. She felt that a weight had lifted from her chest.
Autumn stood up and shrugged on her coat. ‘I just thought you’d want to know that my daughter is back in my life and I couldn’t be happier. There’s been a terrible hole in my heart since the day you took her from me. I want to prove to her that she is and has always been the most precious person.’
Neither her mother nor father responded. They were top barristers, paid hundreds of pounds an hour to argue in courts, yet they didn’t have anything to say to her. They simply sat ghostly white and open-mouthed.
‘I thought you might want to meet Willow, your granddaughter.
I see that was pie in the sky.’ She snatched up her handbag. ‘Well, I’m going to do all that I can to make up for abandoning her. I’m going to try to claw back those lost years by having her in my life. She’s beautiful, clever and feisty. It’s you who’ll be missing out, not her.’
With that she left them wide-eyed and gaping and slammed the front door behind her.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chantal thought that the first meeting after Ted and Stacey returned from the States would be slightly awkward and she wasn’t yet being proved wrong. The atmosphere was tense. Stacey could barely meet her eye and both of the girls, as if feeding off the mood, were fractious.
Ted had a squalling Lana on his lap and, though he was jigging her as if his life depended on it, she wouldn’t be consoled.
‘Here,’ Chantal said. ‘Let me have a go.’ She lifted Lana from him and settled her on her hip. Vaguely, she remembered that the hospital had told her not to lift heavy weights after having the lump removed, but how could a mother with a hyperactive toddler not do that? ‘Shush, shush, shush,’ she soothed as she swayed from side to side.
It was only a few days since she’d come out of hospital and she was still tired and tetchy herself. If she didn’t stay a little bit cross, she started to cry. But it had been a relief when Livia had said she could come home.
‘Do you think she doesn’t recognise me?’ Ted asked sadly.
‘I don’t know. It may take her a while to get used to you again. She’s going through a bit of a clingy phase.’ It hadn’t helped that Lana had been passed around her chocolate-loving aunties for babysitting duties while she was attending various hospital appointments. Since she’d been home, Lana had been more clingy than usual. Also, it had been several weeks since she’d seen Ted other than on Skype – how good was a baby’s memory? Would it be easy for Lana to forget that Ted was her father when she was rarely with him in person?
‘It’s been harder to set up this project than I imagined,’ Ted said. ‘Once it’s up and running I can come back to London more.’
When he’d moved to New York he’d promised that he would be back regularly, but that hadn’t happened. Of course it hadn’t. He was heading up a big team and the project was on a tight deadline. Chantal could imagine only too well the stresses and strains. Throughout their marriage it had always been the same. It was a huge job that he’d taken on and he was earning a mega-salary. You couldn’t just take a few days off and hop on a plane at that level.
Chantal wondered how Stacey and Elsie had fared in New York. They probably saw precious little of him. While she soothed Lana, she cast a sideways glance at her husband’s new love. She looked tired and she’d lost weight. They might not be as close anymore, but she still felt for Stacey.
Picking up Lana’s favourite doggy, Bill, Chantal handed it to her and, as Lana clutched him to her, the tears gradually subsided. If only Jacob were here to support her but, at the time, she’d thought it was better to meet Ted and Stacey alone.
‘I’ll try to put her down for a nap. I think she’s overtired.’ She’d kept Lana awake waiting for Ted to arrive. It had been a mistake. Their plane had landed late and then they’d gone to the hotel first to check in and freshen up. Now Lana was heavyeyed and crotchety.
‘You could put the kettle on, if you don’t mind.’
Taking Lana upstairs, she settled her in the cot. Chantal kissed her daughter’s pink cheek, closed the curtains and checked that the baby monitor was switched on. Then she went back down to face Ted and Stacey once more. Was it going to be more difficult than she’d thought to maintain a relationship with him across the miles? Already they felt like strangers, and he’d only been gone a few months.
Ted was taking a call in the kitchen, shouting tetchily into his phone. She swerved into the living room, where Stacey was setting out cups on the coffee table.
‘Sounds a bit fraught out there.’ Chantal nodded towards the kitchen.
‘It’s a very demanding job,’ Stacey said. ‘I don’t think either of us had realised how much.’
Chantal was sure Ted would have been under no illusions. Stacey poured the tea and handed Chantal a cup.
‘Thanks, Stacey.’
She stood up and looked squarely at Chantal. ‘I do miss this,’ she admitted softly.
‘Me too,’ Chantal agreed. But how would they breach the gulf between them with a bit of social chit-chat? It would take a lot of time and that was the one thing they didn’t now have.
Ted came back, as red in the face as Lana had been. Chantal smiled to herself. Like father like daughter. Neither of them dealt well with not getting their own way. They all sat down together and Stacey gave Ted some tea. An awkward silence ensued while they sat and fiddled with their cups.
‘I was really sorry to hear about your illness,’ Ted said, eventually.
No one ever willingly used the word cancer.
‘I’m dealing with it,’ Chantal said. ‘The girls are being brilliant. So is Jacob.’
‘I’m glad you’ve got good support.’
‘The best.’ She couldn’t look at Stacey. They had readily embraced her into the fold of the Chocolate Lovers’ Club and, in return, she hadn’t been a good friend at all. Would that splinter of hurt ever be extracted?
‘How’s the treatment going?’
‘I’ve got another appointment with the consultant later today. She’s got the results back from the lab. I’ll know more then.’
‘If I can do anything . . . ’ Ted’s voice tailed away.
‘We have lots of papers to sign,’ Chantal said. ‘Can you spare a couple of hours to see the solicitor together?’
‘I’ll make time,’ he said determinedly.
‘Good. I’ll give him a call. Maybe tomorrow?’
He nodded.
Chantal folded her arms. ‘This bit is difficult.’ It would be easier if she and Ted were alone.
Perhaps sensing it, Stacey said, ‘I have to feed Elsie. Should I go into the kitchen so you two can talk in peace?’
‘That would be great,’ Chantal said. ‘It won’t take long.’
She took Elsie and left the room, leaving Chantal and Ted together.
‘She’s a good woman,’ he said.
‘I’m pleased for you,’ Chantal said honestly. ‘I hope you look after her.’
‘I do my best.’ He sighed. ‘But it’s never quite enough. I’m trying to work on it.’
‘Spend more time with them than you do in the office. That’s always a good place to start.’
‘And the one I struggle with the most.’
‘No one said that raising a family was ever easy.’
‘No one told me it would be this hard, either.’
They both laughed, but it had a hollow ring.
Then Chantal said, ‘I’m sorry that you’re missing Lana growing up.’
‘It’s difficult,’ he agreed. ‘I admit that I didn’t consider how difficult. We won’t be in New York for ever. I have a two-year contract and I can see us coming back after that. Hopefully, I can be involved more fully in her life then.’
‘She’s a good girl. Apart from her little tantrum just now. She’s really no trouble.’
‘I’m jealous of Jacob,’ Ted admitted. ‘He’s just stepped into my shoes. He’s having the life I should be living.’
‘It didn’t work for us, Ted. We did try. And Jacob’s doing a great job,’ Chantal said softly. ‘Be grateful that we have someone who adores our little girl as much as we do.’
‘I know. In theory it’s easy, but I still can’t help but feel sidelined.’ He held up his hands. ‘Still, that’s my problem. I’ll deal with it. So what did you want to talk about?’
‘I know that I wasn’t in a rush, but this cancer has made me feel differently. I’d like to finalise the divorce as soon as possible. If anything happens to me, then we should have everything cut and dried. It’s for the best.’
Ted looked shocked. ‘But you’re going to be OK?
’
‘I sincerely hope so, Ted, but you never know. A few weeks ago I thought this was nothing more than a pulled muscle. We should press on and get all our paperwork sorted. You should be free to marry Stacey and vice versa.’
‘Is this what it’s about? Are you and Jacob planning to get married?’
‘He has asked me, but I don’t want to do anything until my treatment is finished and I’ve got the all-clear. Something like this does make you reassess your thinking.’
‘I want to help,’ Ted said. ‘What can I do?’
‘Let’s get this divorce done and dusted.’
Her husband looked sad. ‘If that’s what you really want?’
‘It is.’
‘We could just let things ride until you’re better.’
Ted has always shied away from emotional confrontations and though this was only the paperwork part of separating, it was tough and Chantal was feeling the strain too. ‘I think we’re past that point.’
‘It seems so hard, so final.’
‘It’s for the best though.’
‘I still love you,’ Ted said. ‘In my own inadequate way. I probably always will.’
‘I love you too and I hope we’ll always be friends. We should make that work towards giving our daughter a happy and stable future.’
They stood up and hugged each other tightly.
‘This is shit,’ Ted said. ‘All of it.’
‘I know,’ she soothed. ‘I know.’
This was life. You made the mistakes, you took the knocks, you carried on, you got stronger. Giving up, rolling over, dying – that wasn’t an option.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Nadia was having a fantastic time in the Lake District and wondered why in all her years she hadn’t discovered this beautiful area sooner. Lewis was in his element. The furthest he went at home was to the local run-down park where he had to watch out for broken glass, used condoms and discarded needles. Here there were miles and miles of unspoilt countryside to run wild in. They’d both discovered they had a penchant for fell walking.