Page 76 of The Lovers
“Perhaps we can just be friends, then.”
Quinn took a sip of her wine. This wasn’t going as she had planned. She meant to be cool and polite, but instead she was being hostile and accusing, pouting like a small child because she felt hurt and wanted someone to kiss her boo-boo, while Sylvia remained dignified and composed. Quinn looked away, suddenly ashamed of her behavior. She was a grown woman, and she would act like one.
“Are you married?” Quinn asked, turning back to face Sylvia. It was safer to change the subject and learn something about this woman whose DNA formed a large part of Quinn’s being. Sylvia was right: The past couldn’t be altered, but perhapsthey could take a small step toward the future by learning something about each other.
“I was. My husband passed two years ago. Pancreatic cancer,” Sylvia explained, her eyes filling with tears. “We were married for nearly twenty-five years, and most of them were happy ones.”
“I’m sorry,” Quinn said and meant it. “Tell me about your children.”
“I have two sons: Logan and Jude. Logan just turned twenty-six, and Jude is twenty-two. I wanted more children, but it just never happened for us.”
“Do they know about me?”
“They do now. They were angry at first and resentful. But they’d like to meet you, if that’s something you might be open to.”
“What about your husband? Did you ever tell him?” Quinn asked.
“No. I was too afraid to tell him in the beginning, imagining that he might think less of me, and once the opportunity had passed, it became harder to confess. I always knew I should have, but it was never the right moment. He would have understood, I think. He was a good man, my Grant. He was a primary school administrator. That’s how we met. I was a teacher at the school he worked at.”
“And Logan and Jude? What do they do?” Quinn asked, curious about these two lads who were her half-brothers.
“Jude is a musician. He plays guitar and sings. He’s quite good, although I don’t really enjoy his type of music. It’s punk rock, or so he tells me. And Logan is a nurse. He works at the London, which is why I moved there. I wanted to be close to him after Grant died. I just couldn’t bear to stay in the house all alone.It went from being a place of comfort and love to a place of isolation and loneliness.”
Quinn thought of her own little house. That’s how it felt after Luke left, except that Luke was still very much alive. And he was no longer necessary to her happiness.
“Sylvia, may I ask you something?”
“Yes, of course. You must have loads of questions.”
“Was there anyone in your family who had psychic ability?”
Sylvia looked at Quinn, clearly surprised by the inquiry. Judging by her reaction, it was obvious that even if there was someone, Sylvia wasn’t aware of it.
“Not that I know of. Why do you ask?”
“No reason. It’s just something I’m interested in,” Quinn lied.
“I see. Well, sorry to disappoint, but no. I think the closest anyone came to being psychic was when my grandmother told my dad that my mother would come to no good. And she was right.”
“Do you keep in touch with your mother?” Quinn asked, suddenly remembering that this woman’s parents were her grandparents.
“I didn’t for a long time, but we eventually made peace. As I got older, I didn’t fully forgive her for leaving, but I tried to understand her reasons. I loved my dad, but I could see how he wasn’t the right man for her. My mother was a very sensual woman who needed a man whose appetites matched her own, but my dad, God bless him, just didn’t seem very interested in that side of things. He never remarried after Mum left. Never even had a girlfriend. Not everyone is cut out for it, I guess.”
Quinn nodded. It was strange hearing about these people who were her close family. “Is he still alive, my grandfather?”
“No. He died a few years before my Grant. Just fell asleep in front of the telly one day and never woke up. I miss him,” she added.
“Did he ever suspect anything, once you came back after having me?” Quinn asked.
“I think he might have, but he was too afraid to ask. He’d already lost my mum, and he was afraid to lose the only person he truly loved. He was happy to have me back and didn’t ask too many questions.”
Sylvia finished her cappuccino and reached for her bag. “I’ve brought some photos. I thought you might like to have a look.”
“Oh, I would,” Quinn exclaimed. She studied every photo, trying to find some small resemblance between herself and the people who were her family. She did bear a resemblance to Estelle, Sylvia’s mother. She had been glamorous in her day, a woman who clearly enjoyed male attention. Her grandfather smiled benignly into the camera, and Quinn could see something of him in Sylvia, especially about the eyes.
Logan was a surprise. He was tall and lean, with shaggy black hair and sleeve tattoos. His lopsided grin was infectious, and his hazel eyes looked like they hid many secrets. He was the one who looked like a rocker, not his brother, who appeared almost prim by comparison. Jude must have taken after his father, his light brown hair thick and wavy, and his eyes a lovely shade of blue. He was almost classically handsome, unlike Logan, whose features were not as regular.
“That was before he started with his current band,” Sylvia explained. “He looks a bit more wild now. Grew his hair out, andgot inked, as he puts it.”
