Sitting in the hospital waiting room, Jack reviewed the events of the last few hours as if they had all been parts of a dream. Something that was happening, but not happening. He vaguely recalled Ravi racing back into the hall and barrelling out again with a medical bag, the clamour of voices, the arrival of the ambulance, his father feebly gripping his mother’s hand as he was placed inside, the ambulance pulling away, headed for the nearest A & E, he and his cousins following in Granddad’s car, their parents in Doctor Bindal’s.
Paige and Dane were with him now. They weren’t saying much. They didn’t seem to know what to say. He didn’t either. Across the room, his grandparents and aunt and uncle were talking in tones so low he could only catch a few words.
“…building a while…”
“…doing too much…”
“…making demands now, after all these years…”
They broke off as his mother and Doctor Bindal came in.
Aunt Augusta gave them all a slight smile.
“He’s fully awake. And stable. I’m going to stay, but the rest of you should go home. It’s past the children’s bedtime.”
Granny shook her head. “The others, yes, but not me. You’ll want someone with you.”
They returned to the Taisley house, where Granddad also spent the night. Past bedtime or not, no one, child or adult, slept much.
In the morning, Granny phoned to say the patient was a bit better and wanted Granddad to bring Jack the hospital to see him.
Once they’d gone, Mrs. Marchand got Dane and Paige to help her with the breakfast dishes. There weren’t many. No one had any appetite.
“What’s wrong with Uncle Gareth, Mum?” Dane asked, mechanically drying a plate.
“He suffered a collapse, due to stress. And an EKG showed there might be some problems with his heart.”
“Stress from what? The party? The arguments over those letters he found?”
“Among other things.”
“Like that meeting he and Aunt Augusta had in Maidenhead?” Paige conjectured. “They were upset when they came back. So were you.”
Mr. Marchand put down the newspaper he had been looking at, but not really taking in. “Might as well tell them, Tania. But it goes no farther, guys. And it especially doesn’t go as far as Jack unless his mother’s already broken the news to him. At the moment, your grandparents are the only other people who know.”
“Know what?” Paige demanded.
Mrs. Marchand sighed, and dried her hands on a tea towel before sitting down at the table across from her husband. “Know that Jack’s birth parents want to make contact with him. Well, more than that, really. They want him back.”
Paige whirled around from the drawer in which she had been about to place some cutlery. “Want him back? They can’t take him back—can they?”
She and Dane exchanged looks of dismay.
“Probably not,” said Mr. Marchand. “It was a legal adoption. But they can cause trouble, and intend to do so. Uncle Gareth’s known about it for quite a while. They went to him first. He didn’t tell your aunt until just a few days ago. And neither of them told us until they got back from Maidenhead.”
“What did they go there for?” Paige asked. “To see a lawyer?”
“No. He’d already retained one. She went to Maidenhead with them to meet with Jack’s biological family. The birth parents married a couple of years ago. Last year they were in a car accident. Due to injuries sustained, she can’t have any more children. Both sets of grandparents were at the meeting and I think it’s her parents who are pushing for this. His have other children, and a couple of grandchildren. Hers don’t, so Jack’s the only grandchild they’ll ever have.”
Paige’s temper flared. “So what? He’s the only child Aunt Augusta and Uncle Gareth will ever have. And they wanted him. His birth parents didn’t. Not when he was born. And neither did any of his grandparents.”
“Yeah, that’s one of the arguments the lawyer will be making,” said Mr. Marchand. “In the meantime, it’s been giving Uncle Gareth and Aunt Augusta big-time stress. Especially Uncle Gareth. He thought he could get them to back off without having to worry your aunt, but keeping it to himself wasn’t good for him.”
“Is he going to be okay?” asked Dane.
“He should be, provided he can rest properly,” Mrs. Marchand replied. “And there’s no reason he can’t. The university can get someone to take over his upcoming classes, and your granddad can help Aunt Augusta sort out this adoption business.” She sighed. “I wish we could be more supportive. I feel guilty about going home the day after tomorrow.”
“Me too,” said Mr. Marchand, “but at least Gareth’ll be able to come back to a more tranquil house than he’s had of late.”
“Do we have to go home?” Paige asked.
“Yes. School’s starting up again, remember? And I still have some post production work to do on my medieval documentary. Who knows, this might be the one that wins an award and puts me on the road to fame and fortune.”
“You’re already pretty well known, Dad.”
“I’m known to you, sweetie. Maybe even—dare I think it—admired by you, but I could do with some more industry recognition too. And accompanying financial reward. Especially if our house gets flooded and our insurance won’t cover restoration.” He stood up. “Fortunately, I have some potential backers for the allergy project. Doctor Bindal’s nephew knows some people who might be interested. I said I’d meet with him this morning.” He glanced at his wife. “You can call me if anything changes with Gareth.”
With that he went out, leaving his children feeling bewildered.
“Why’s Dad worried about our house getting flooded?” Paige inquired. Living close to a creek, their parents did have those concerns during the spring run-off, but not at the end of summer, when the more likely hazard was forest fires.
Her mother gave her a strange look. “Because of the weeks and weeks of rain the Okanagan Valley’s had. You must remember how hard it was coming down the day we left.” Since Paige and Dane remembered nothing of the kind, they simply stared at her as she went on. “Don’t fret. The neighbours are keeping an eye on our place and piling up sandbags for us. We’ll take any further steps that are necessary when we get home. Right now, I think I’ll go make beds. You should try to find something to do as well. It will keep your mind off things.”
“Can we play games on your laptop?” Paige asked as she rose from the table.
“Yes, until I come back down. Then I’ll have to have it. I’ve got some notes to add to the research file for my next book.” She sighed. “In keeping with what your father said about fame and fortune, maybe I’ll finally get a bestseller.”
“Finally get?” Dane echoed after she’d gone upstairs. “What’s she talking about? Almost all her books have been bestsellers. And Dad—he made it sound like he hadn’t ever won any film awards, and you know he’s won dozens. As for that stuff about the rain…hey, what are you doing? Mum said we could play games, not go on the Internet.”
“Yeah, well, Mum’s upstairs, and I want to check something out. Three somethings, actually. Her, Dad, and the weather back home.”
She called up the weather report first, and learned that weeks of heavy rainfall had indeed resulted in flood warnings for the Okanagan, which appeared to be the only region experiencing it. She then typed in her father’s name. Only a few film sites carried his profile, and made no reference to awards or other indicators of prominence in his field. It was the same with their mother, a modest list of published books, but nothing to suggest the name Britannia Hollingsworth Marchand was especially well known.
“This is crazy,” said Dane. “Their careers were rock solid when we left Canada. They can’t have just suddenly become nonentities. Unless…” he paused, thinking. “Unless we did something in another time that caused things to change for them in our time.”
Paige shook her head. “We didn’t. I’m sure we didn’t. If we had, there’d have been indications of it before now. Nothing was any different here when we came back from the middle ages, or when we came back from Victorian times, either. Things started to change…let’s see…I think they started change around the time we found out about Sir Magnus’s Keeper Pieces going missing. Earlier on, do you remember hearing Dad say how being obsessive about work had been good for his career?”
“Yes.”
“Well, by the time we were eating lunch with the Wolverton-Hernes, he was talking like his career was just so-so. From riches to rags in just a few hours.”
“That’s right. And the flooding thing just came up today. If they’d been worried about it before we’d have heard them talking or seen them going online for updates, like you just did.”
Paige shut down the laptop and went to the telephone.
Dane followed her. “Who are you calling?”
“Uncle Edmond.”
When he answered, Paige said, “Hi, Uncle Edmond. This is going to sound weird, but how are Mum and Dad doing in their careers? Would you say they were both what people call successful?”
“I would,” Uncle Edmond replied.
“And when Mum called you up just before we left Canada, didn’t she say we’d had it hot and dry for so long, she’d be glad to have a bit of British rain?”
“She did.”
“Okay. Can you now please ask Auntie Norah those same questions?”
“All right.” He sounded mystified. When he returned to the phone, he sounded even more mystified. “In response to question one, she says they’re both so talented, they really should have gained more recognition by now. In response to question two, she says your mother was expressing flood concerns when she rang up. Neither of which is in keeping with how I remember things being.”
“Or how we remember things being. Certain aspects of our lives have changed, Uncle Edmond, and only people connected to the medallion seem to know it. What do you think’s going on?”
“I’ve no idea. Let me talk to your grandfather. He stayed the night, didn’t he?”
“Yes, but he took Jack to the hospital to see Uncle Gareth.”
“Oh. Well, when he gets back, have him bring the three of you over to Grantie’s. We definitely have to talk and see if the two diviners can divine anything.”
But, as Jack and his mother rode home in the back of Granddad’s car, Jack’s mind was not on divination. It was on his father’s collapse.
“Such a relief to know Gareth can come home soon,” Granny said from the front passenger seat. “But you’ll have your work cut out for you getting him to take things easy and not get upset about anything, Gus.”
“Upset about what?” demanded Jack, giving his mother a sharp look. “He got upset over the “Danny Boy” song, but he told me that was because you once thought about calling me Daniel, and might have if Dane’s name hadn’t been so similar. He tried to make out he was just feeling sentimental, but there’s got to be more to it than that.” He paused and gave her another challenging look. “There is, isn’t there, Mummy?”
She didn’t answer for a moment. Then, “Yes, darling, there is. And I suppose it is time you knew what’s happening. Stop at the park, will you, Dad?”
At the park they found a secluded bench and Granny and Granddad went off somewhere, allegedly to look at flowers.
She started by telling him the adoption story he had heard many times. Then she added the new twist. “When Ashleigh and Kyle gave you up, I think they truly meant to have no further contact with you, but…well, they were very young back then, and now…now they want to meet you.”
Jack stared at her, aghast. “Well, I don’t want to meet them!”
She nodded. “Daddy thought you might feel like that. He told them it would be better to wait until you’re older. Unfortunately, they don’t agree.”
“They’ll jolly well have to, because I won’t do it. You’re my mummy. The only one I want. And Daddy’s my daddy. What if I met them, and once they saw me, they decided to take me back from you? You said they couldn’t. When I asked you that when I was little, you said they couldn’t.” His voice rose, tinged with panic.
“They can’t.” His mother folded him into her arms. “Your adoption was completely legal. Once issued, adoption orders are hardly ever reversed, and since both sides had solicitors and counselling, it’s highly unlikely a court would reverse yours.”
“Then make them go away. Please, Mummy? Please?”
“We will. It’ll be all right. I’ve only told you so I can, in all honesty, say you aren’t ready for a meeting. Once I have, I’m sure they’ll put it off for a few years.”
“I won’t be ready then, either,” he said, burrowing into her shoulder.
“Well, that will be for you to decide, love.” She patted his back. “Right now it’s for grown-ups. Daddy will be home in a day or two. By then it’ll probably all be resolved and we’ll be able to concentrate on getting him to rest and get well. The most important thing right now is to make sure he doesn’t worry about anything. Such as you being worried. And you don’t have to be. There really isn’t anything to worry about, and, if Daddy thinks you’re all right, he’ll be all right.” She grimaced. “Perhaps we should get him one of those T-Shirts with that slogan from the war, KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON.”
Jack took his head off her shoulder. “He hates T-shirts.”
“Well, he’ll have to get better then, won’t he? So he can take it down the charity shop.”
Jack managed a wobbly smile. When grown-ups said there was nothing to worry about, there usually wasn’t. But sometimes there was, and when he got back home and spoke with his cousins, he realized there might even be more to worry about than he’d thought.