Page 43 of The Little Teashop of Lost and Found
‘That’s a point,’ he said, frowning. ‘There aren’t many houses withineasy walking distance, only a couple of farms, and I expect the police checked those out at the time.’
‘It was miraculous the farmer found me at all, because I don’t suppose I’d have lasted very long, even though I’d been wrapped in a sheepskin rug.’
‘Arug?’
‘Apparently, and it kept me warm, but even that wouldn’t have saved me for very long, because I was slightly premature and had a harelip, too,’ I confessed. It wasn’t something I generally threw into the conversation with near-strangers … not that any of the Giddings family actually felt like strangers any more, even the irritating Nile.
‘Oh? I hadn’t noticed.’ He turned his head and smiled at me, which I’d already discovered was way more disconcerting than the frown.
‘I was lucky – there’s only a very fine scar.’
‘So, once you’ve talked to the two people who found you, will you give up on trying to discover who your birth mother is?’
‘Probably not,’ I admitted.
‘Well, it’s your call,’ he said. ‘But if the police couldn’t trace her at the time, I don’t suppose you will either, unless she finds out that you’re searching for her and comes forward.’
‘Bel suggested yesterday that I tell my story to a local newspaper in the hope that she sees it and does just that – and I might as a last resort.’
He started the engine again and gave me a half-smile that softened his distinctive face. ‘In the end, it isn’t who you started out as that really matters, it’s who you become.’
‘That’s easy enough for you to say,’ I snapped crossly.
‘ButIwas adopted too – didn’t Bel say?’ he asked, sounding surprised.
‘No!’
‘Bel and Teddy are the real deal, Sheila and Paul’s biological children, but I was adopted when I was eleven, so my circumstances are a bit different from yours.’
‘I wondered why you didn’t look like the rest of your family, but I thought you might take after your father.’
‘I do – my biological one, who was Greek. Not that I ever met him,because he’d vanished from the scene by the time I was born. My mother had a drink problem and she couldn’t cope, so I was in and out of care from the start.’
‘That’s terrible,’ I said, and he shrugged.
‘When she was sober – which was rare – she’d come looking for her darling child. Next bender, she’d abandon me and go off again. Eventually, she added drugs to the booze and moved to London and they stopped giving me back. I settled better after that, but I never saw her again and she’s dead now.’
‘That’s so sad. I was adopted as a baby and although my mother wasn’t great, at least my father was lovely.’
‘It all worked out well for me in the end, because I was fostered by a friend of the Giddingses and when that broke down – I was a bit of a handful – they took me on instead and eventually adopted me,’ Nile explained.
‘And you became an instant big brother, with siblings to boss about,’ I said, trying to lighten the tone a bit. ‘Perfect!’
He’d pulled out again and was negotiating a road even narrower than the last, seeming to sense oncoming traffic long before it appeared, so that he could tuck into the small passing places.
‘That’s how Sheila and Paul got me to settle down, by telling me I needed to be a role model for Bel and Teddy, who are four years younger,’ he said. ‘They were wonderful parents and when they moved up here permanently, I missed them so much I finally upped sticks and moved too.’
‘How long ago was that?’
‘Oh – about six years ago, I suppose.’
‘About the same time I went to Scotland, then,’ I said, seeing our trajectories moving around the country until, finally, our orbits collided here in Haworth. ‘How’d you get into antiques?’ I asked curiously.
‘Studied history of art at university, then worked for a large auction house in London. I’ve got a half-share in a stall in an antiques centre in Camden, too, but my partner, Zelda, runs it now that I’ve got my own place up here.’
He didn’t specify if he meant business partner or another kind entirely – maybe even both?
‘How do you manage to make a living from your shop when it’s hardly ever open?’ I asked curiously.
