It’s late afternoon and Rona and Gray will have boarded their flight to the States by now. Gray rang a couple of hours’ ago, trying his best to be cheerful, but the effort required for me to sound upbeat and pretend everything is fine here has taken a toll.
I stare at the clock. Fewer than ten minutes have elapsed since the last time I checked. Clock watching isn’t going to make time speed up. They don’t land until early evening US time but it will be the early hours of tomorrow morning, here in the UK. Gray’s father is collecting them from the airport, so that will be a rather stressful journey. They will probably all go for a meal and then have an early night, as Rona and Gray will be shattered. Physically and emotionally, by that point, I shouldn’t doubt.
I’m feeling miserable and lonely. And now I’m feeling unwell — coughing and unable to stop my nose from running. At first I thought it was from the tears I shed when Valerie was here, but I’m definitely coming down with a cold. There’s little point lying on the sofa feeling sorry for myself. Sitting bolt upright, I ease myself up and head straight for the bathroom to find some eucalyptus oil to help me breathe more easily. The face staring back at me in the bathroom cabinet mirror is pale and blotchy. It’s clear I’m running a temperature, even though I feel cold and clammy.
What I need is a cup of hot, sweet, tea.
‘I’m glad you’re here, Bert.’ As I walk back into the open-plan area it has never seemed so vast and empty. But I’m not alone, Bert is on patrol and keeping an eye out.
‘It’s quiet without Gray here, isn’t it?’
I have no idea why I phrased that as a question, and a sigh catches in my throat at how dejected I sound. However, the angle of his head as he stands watching over the garden is strangely reassuring.
I fill the kettle, then yank things out of the cupboards; eventually I carry a little tray across to the coffee table. I console myself with the thought that it’s fine to spoil yourself when you’re feeling poorly.
Bert looks as if he needs a pat, so I saunter over to him and we both gaze out. The snow is melting fast – only the huge mounds we made shovelling paths are taking their time to thaw.
All my life I longed to know who my mother was, to know what she looked like and to demand to know what reason she could possibly have had to walk away from Dad and me. This was right versus wrong and there are no excuses. There were no excuses. Or so I thought. The story Valerie told me was not the one I was expecting to hear, at all.
A key in the front door makes my heart sink. I told Tollie not to bother looking in on me after his busy day at Turnpike Cottage. Turning around, one hand leaning on Bert’s sturdy back for support, I compose my face.
‘Gray!’
The man I love more than life itself rushes over to me, sweeping me up into his arms and showering the top of my head with kisses. As he lowers me to the floor, surveying the tip of my bright red nose, which is smothered in moisturiser, he raises his eyebrows.
‘You’re poorly? Oh, my lovely Immi. Come on, sit down and drink your tea before you fall down.’
He’s right, I’m clinging onto him as if my life depends upon it. He helps me over to the sofa and gently lowers me down. I open my mouth and the questions come out in a stream.
‘What are you doing here? What went wrong? Was the flight cancelled? Is Rona okay?’
‘Nothing is wrong,’ he replies, sounding tired, but not anxious. ‘I will need to grab a coffee first, though. It was quite a day and a long, wearisome journey back in heavy traffic.’
Picking up my mug and placing it firmly in my hands, he walks over to the kitchen and I sit sipping tea to help calm my nerves and ease my sore throat. I need the few minutes’ silence to calm my racing thoughts.
Watching his back, I find it hard to believe I’m not imagining this, and I’m fearful of blinking my eyes in case he disappears. My brow is a little feverish, but he’s definitely real.
‘Waiting around meant Mum and I could have a good chat and she could see I’m not ready to meet up with my father yet. The timing isn’t right because I just want to be with you. When I explained how I was feeling to Mum, she hugged me close and said, “Go. Be with Immi and take some time for yourselves – I’ll be fine,” and I knew she would be.’
Gray walks over to sit down next to me and we roll into each other, sinking back against the cushions.
‘But your father…’
‘He can wait a while longer. When I fly over, you will be by my side. In future we face our fears together.’
My heart sinks in my chest. Gray has no idea what’s happened with Valerie. But he’s here and he will never know quite how much I needed to see him today.
‘Sometimes facing one’s fears isn’t quite as bad as we imagine it will be.’ My voice sounds small in the cavernous hollow of the room.
Gray frowns. ‘No? Well, that’s encouraging. It did worry me a little when I texted you earlier on and didn’t get a reply, I will say.’
I blink, looking sideways at him. ‘But I responded. I was phone-watching,’ I admit.
Gray stands, pulling his mobile from his pocket before lowering himself back down to sit on the edge of the sofa.
‘Oh, the battery is dead. I’ll drink this and dig out my lead. Now snuggle back and I’ll put on a DVD. It’s time someone waited on you, for a change.’
I shake my head at everything he holds up for approval, as I don’t fancy a romantic comedy and I’m most definitely not in the mood for anything scary. My head is whirling, and I need time to gather my thoughts before I decide exactly what I’m going to tell Gray.
‘Maybe a series, then. Poldark?’ Gray jiggles the DVD box around, waving it temptingly in the air.
‘Perfect.’
‘Perfect?’
‘Well, Aidan Turner is perfect.’ I giggle; the joy of having Gray here changes everything. Even my cold doesn’t feel quite so draining.
‘Is he, now? I’m thinking maybe this is not quite the right programme for my fiancée, then.’ As much as he’s complaining, he still pops the disc into the slot, before covering me up with a throw.
‘And here’s a glass of water. You need to keep hydrated. I’ll unpack my bag, but no fawning over that actor – I’ll be keeping an eye on you.’
He casts me a stern look and I suck in my bottom lip, trying not to laugh as he teases me.
In the background, he hums as he places the mugs into the dishwasher and then I cosy up as he takes his bags upstairs to begin unpacking. As I blow my nose rather noisily, a trip to Cornwall seems like the perfect thing to calm my troubled mind.
It isn’t long before I hear Gray shouting out at the top of his voice as he clatters, noisily, down the stairs. He rushes through the door with his phone in his hand and his eyes wide.
‘My phone started pinging like mad the minute I plugged in the charger! Read this – start at the top and work down.’ He forces his phone into my hands as I stare at him, rather puzzled.
There is a string of three texts from Oliver Harding, all sent this morning.
Hey Gray, my email keeps getting rejected, it says your inbox is full? Re-sending it now for the fifth time. You haven’t committed to another project, have you?
I’ve left several voice mails. I really, really need to speak to you asap, Gray – you’re the man for the job and I’m in trouble if I don’t sign you up, mate.
Me again. Sorry for the garbled messages. Just phone me as soon as you can. Thanks, Gray.
‘You got the job and the girl!’
I hand the phone back to him and he stands there looking at me as if he can’t believe it. ‘I spent some time while I was at the airport clearing my inbox of old messages. I had no idea it was full, though.’
‘Well, ring the man, then, and put him out of his misery.’
The look that passes between us goes from shock to ecstasy in a split second and Gray starts punching the air.
‘Whoop! I did it!’
Wrapping me in his arms, Gray pulls the duvet a little higher, then reaches over to tuck it neatly along the side of my body.
‘You’re going to catch my germs; you do know that?’ I groan as he leans in to plant another kiss on my lips.
‘What’s yours is mine, germs and all. This commitment lark works both ways.’
I start laughing and he lies there, staring up at the ceiling and humming another of the endless tunes he has rolling around inside that head of his.
‘I like that idea. And what’s yours is mine… Mr Musical Composer for a sci-fi film who is about to earn a fortune.’
That makes us both chuckle. The first film may come with a modest cheque attached to it, but if all goes well it’s goodbye doggy food ad jingles – my talented fiancé is spreading his wings and about to fly.
‘One day I’ll achieve my dream as a songwriter and a composer, but it all starts here, Immi.’
Gray rather dramatically holds up his hands in the darkness, spreading them out as if it’s a screen, and begins to hum the opening bars to the piece that will accompany the film title and credits.
‘Dah, dah, dah-dah, da-da-da-da-da, d-a-h, d-a-h, d-a-h…’ It’s thrilling to think that at some point we will be sitting in a cinema somewhere, watching in awe and checking the reaction on the faces of the people around us.
He lays on the tense atmosphere with staccato notes and then his voice softens as the lighter notes ripple up and down the scale.
‘Imagine the blackness of outer space…’ his words are low ‘… and then a craft comes into view. Inside, are ten people whose lives are about to change forever. They are going to discover something that will save the world.’
‘Stop! Don’t tell me how it ends. I want to savour that when I see the—’ I let out the loudest explosive sneeze, only just managing to get a tissue out of my sleeve to catch it in the final second ‘—film in full, on the big screen.’
‘Oh dear, you are suffering, aren’t you? My poor darling.’
He rolls over to look at me and I hold my face away a little, not wanting to breathe on him.
‘I really don’t want you catching this, so please keep your distance.’
He looks at me, shaking his head.
‘It’s not just the cold, is it? What are you keeping from me? I can see it in your eyes. It comes and goes, so that means you’re pushing it away. You haven’t had second thoughts about going from a quiet wedding to a bit of a proper do, have you? I mean, everyone wants to be in on it, and we should be grateful about that. And now I’m not so worried about the money side of things, so let’s make it memorable in a way that feels right for us.’
‘It’s not that. There’s no easy way to say this because I’m still in shock – in fact it has left me feeling numb.’ His brows knit together as he looks at me expectantly. ‘I found out yesterday that Valerie is my mother; she is, or was, Alison James.’
Gray’s jaw drops appreciably and his mouth gapes open in disbelief. He jerks upright, staring down at me.
‘Did I hear that right? Valerie? Mrs Price? You didn’t dream this, Immi, did you? I mean, your temperature keeps spiking and when someone is delirious their thoughts can sometimes seem very real.’
I ease myself upright as he wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into him so tenderly. I can see that he thinks I’m getting sicker by the minute.
‘It’s true. There’s no way she could know my mother’s name. Tollie has no idea that Valerie has shared her secret with me and neither does Bernie.’
‘Bernie? What’s Bernie got to do with it?’
‘Valerie was born and brought up in Middle Norton and that’s how she met Dad. Bernie is Tollie’s closest friend and they even went to school here together. Few of today’s inhabitants will know what happened back then. But Bernie probably does.’
‘How do you feel about that?’ Gray’s eyes search mine, hesitantly.
‘Disappointed, I suppose, and overprotected in a way that leaves me feeling uncomfortable. I certainly didn’t know Valerie until after I came to live with Tollie. And she didn’t stay long before handing in her notice. I always believed it was because Tollie and I were constantly rowing over how messy I was and, well, selfish. But it turns out that wasn’t the case. Grandma had asked Valerie to look after Tollie, thinking he’d be here on his own. No one could have foreseen that Dad wasn’t going to be around by then, or that I would end up living here permanently, so I get that. Grandma must have believed Valerie’s explanation, whilst honouring Dad’s decision to let the past lie. Valerie may be able to take the blame for a lot of things, but what she went through was tough and hearing about it wasn’t easy.’
As I tell him all about Valerie’s illness, the poignancy I feel in repeating her words sends a chill to my core. His reaction indicates, like me, he’s finding it difficult to process the information, let alone draw a conclusion from it.
‘It’s hard to take in. It’s crazy, Immi. I’d imagined some heartless, selfish person, because she did the worst thing imaginable. Admittedly, Valerie is a very private woman and a bit of a loner at times, but her heart’s in the right place. She’s worked tirelessly for the community and on our Christmas project, and never asked for anything in return. And all the while she was keeping an eye on you, her daughter.’
I nod, forcing down a gulp as a lump suddenly rises up in my throat. ‘She was. And Tollie said nothing, but she knew he was growing more and more concerned about the situation. Fisher is totally unaware of any of this and that’s why she told me. Valerie said it wasn’t fair on me, or Fisher, to think she can make a life here, given how things have developed. He is like my second dad; everyone knows that, and she believes he’ll hate her when he finds out the truth because she doesn’t deserve forgiveness.’
Gray hugs me even closer and I try not to sniffle.
‘You believe her story, though?’
I sit quietly in his arms, trying hard to breathe over his shoulder and keep my germs at bay.
‘I do. But that doesn’t mean to say I know how to react to it.’
‘Immi, you know that Tollie would do anything for you, don’t you? He’d give his life for you.’
I nod and he feels the movement.
Gray’s reaction mirrors my own. It had never occurred to me that at some point in my life I’d have to practise forgiveness for people who had always put me first.
‘If I question him, he’ll think he’s failed me in some way, and he didn’t. Dad had a right to decide what was best for me. Grandma and Tollie were simply falling in line with his decision. I think they all knew that I couldn’t have coped with the truth back then and they were right. Getting to know Valerie as member of our community, I wasn’t on my guard around her, or raking up feelings of bitterness about the past. I became friends with her because I sensed her pain and her regret, without even knowing we had any connection at all. I discovered the woman she really is and the sense of sadness that she has carried with her throughout her life. You can’t blame someone when they’re ill and their life suddenly falls apart around them – what she needed most at that time was help.’
Gray sighs. ‘How ironic that you were the one who put Valerie and Fisher together.’
‘I know and they’re perfect for each other. But as for Valerie being my mother – I mean, my mother – it doesn’t seem real, even though I heard the words from her own mouth. To me she’s just Valerie. My mother is someone entirely different, some unknown woman whose face I could never quite conjure up.’
‘You don’t hate her, then?’
I loathe the word hate. I loathe it because I did for many years hate my mother. I hated her for leaving me motherless. For making me the odd one out. When other kids’ parents divorced, at least they had two parents. It was Dad who did my hair and learned to paint my nails so I could be like the other girls. This six-foot-four giant of a man would often spend his Saturday mornings fussing with a five-year-old’s hair, co-ordinating sparkly scrunchies with cute little dresses, before I went off on a play date. He was my father and my mother. And he always will be, no one can take that away from him. And that’s why Tollie and Grandma honoured his decision that I didn’t need to know the truth.
As for Valerie, well, I had started to see her as a friend. Now there is no easy slot for her to slide into, because three people took care of me during my formative years and she wasn’t one of them.
‘No. I don’t hate her, but…’
‘You can’t change the past.’
I nod once more, unable to speak, but so relieved that Gray can understand exactly what I’m feeling.
‘I like Valerie. She’s a kind, thoughtful woman and I believe what she told you is the truth. The past only hurts if you can’t move on. Maybe the best way to deal with it, Immi, is to judge her only on what she’s done since your paths have crossed and what happens from here on in.’
It’s a moment of complete clarity. I’ve been fretting over what to do, worrying about her expectations of me and how I should react. And Gray, just like that, has put it all into perspective.
‘It’s one day at a time, Immi. And I’m here to help you through it.’
Gray drifts off into a deep sleep and I’m left alone with my thoughts. I think about the envelope Valerie left on the coffee table and the tears I shed when I eventually got up the courage to open it. Inside was a photograph, just the one. It was a young Valerie cradling her baby daughter in her arms and on the back she’d written ‘my darling Immi’.