Page 49 of The Forgotten
“I have to go,” Phoebe said after Emma ran off. “But, just so you know, Mrs. Edwards has been dealt with.”
“Right. Thanks, Mum.”
“What exactly does she mean by ‘dealt with’?” Quinn asked after they hung up the phone.
“I dare not ask,” Gabe replied, still chuckling. “But I never underestimate my mother. If Mrs. Edwards is suddenly banned from doing flowers for the church or isn’t invited to the next book club meeting, we know who to blame. My mother can be ruthless.”
“I better behave then,” Quinn quipped.
“Yes, you’d better. And speaking of spanked bottoms…” Quinn squealed as Gabe lightly smacked her bum, leaving her in no doubt as to his immediate plans.
Quinn glanced at her watch. She was a bit early. She could go in, but she had no desire to see any of her colleagues, so she decided to wait outside instead. She found an empty bench and settled in to wait for Gabe. She needed to ring Sylvia and check in with Jill. Jill seemed in better spirits the last few days, fueled by Quinn’s idea and looking for suppliers who might help her implement it. And Sylvia had left a message, asking Quinn to ring her back. Quinn was just rummaging in her handbag for her mobile when someone sat down on the bench next to her.
“Don’t even think of leaving,” the man said as his fingers closed around her wrist as she tried to flee. “I’d like a word.”
Quinn threw Robert Chatham a look of defiance and prayed that Gabe would come out early and rescue her. Chatham looked angry, and given that he’d found her despite her giving him a falsename, she could understand why. That whole episode left her cringing with shame, both at the memory of Chatham’s advances and her own behavior. Perhaps it was best if Gabe didn’t see them talking to each other.
“How can I help you, Mr. Chatham?” Quinn asked, striving for composure. She wasn’t really scared since they were seated in the middle of a public park filled with passersby, but the man made her uneasy.
Chatham turned toward her and studied her for a few moments, his gaze filled more with curiosity than hostility. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to talk.” He finally let go of her wrist once he was satisfied that she wasn’t about to run off.
“I had a pleasant chat with Monica Fielding yesterday. She had a lot to say once your name came up. Did you think I wouldn’t find out who you are, Dr. Allenby?” he asked, amused by Quinn’s startled expression. “Once I googled Monica Fielding, I had no trouble finding your profile on the institute website. So, let’s skip the polite chit-chat and get to the point. Why would a well-respected archeologist seek me out? And you did seek me out. You targeted me.”
Quinn pinned Robert Chatham with her gaze, impressed by how quickly he caught up to her. The man clearly didn’t make idle threats. He gave her a pleasant smile, raising one eyebrow to emphasize that he was waiting for an answer.
“Do you really want to know?” Quinn asked. She sounded calmer than she felt but would not run from a confrontation with this man. She had nothing to lose, not anymore. “Thirty-one years ago, you invited a girl to a party at your house where you and two of your mates drugged and assaulted her. I was born nine months later. I targeted you because I thought you might be my biological father.”
“So, you accepted the invitation to my room to see if you could find any DNA?” Chatham asked. He looked amused, which annoyed Quinn, who had hoped for some expression of remorse.
“Yes. I wanted to know for sure.”
“And do you?”
“Not a match.”
Chatham looked momentarily relieved, but then burst out laughing. “You’re a lot feistier than your mother ever was; I’ll give you that.”
“Don’t you talk about my mother,” Quinn cried, furious at his levity. Robert Chatham tilted his head to the side and studied her, his mouth twitching with suppressed humor.
“Oh, let me guess. Poor Sylvia spun you a grim tale in which Snow White gets drugged and shagged by the evil dwarfs. Well, let me tell you, Princess, that’s not how it happened. Your mother had a reputation for being a slag, which is why I invited her in the first place. I wanted to have a merry Christmas, if you know what I mean. She could have refused the champagne, but she didn’t. She drank glass after glass, until she could barely stand. The other two girls offered her a ride home, but she decided to stay. She wanted to stay. She was so far gone, there was no need to drug her, not that I would have. That’s simply not my style. I like my women conscious. I kissed her and she kissed me back. She let me touch her and put my hand down her jeans. She liked it. She got a bit upset when Seth joined in, but she never asked us to stop. She was flattered by the attention. Surprised?” he asked, grinning at Quinn who looked mutinous.
“You’re a liar,” Quinn hissed.
“Am I? Are you sure?” Robert Chatham chuckled. “Rhys was a bit reluctant. He always was something of a coward, but by the time Seth and I were finished with Sylvia, one more bloke wouldn’t have made any difference. She just lay there, legs spread, just begging for it. We egged Rhys on, I admit that, but he didn’t need much persuading. It was his chance to lose his virginity at last, and with someone who was too piss-drunk to laugh him out of the room.”
Chatham caught Quinn deftly by the wrist when she tried to slap him. “And that’s not the worst of it, sunshine. Sylvia clearly never told you that there was a fourth man.”
“What?” Quinn breathed. “You are saying that just to be cruel.”
Chatham shook his head. “No, I’m not. Ask Sylvia. There’s a reason why she never breathed a word of this to anyone.”
“Who was he? Was he a friend of yours?” Quinn demanded.
“No, he wasn’t, and he wasn’t there that night, but he’d shagged her, repeatedly; you can be sure of that.”
Quinn looked away as tears of anger and betrayal stung her eyes. She wanted to believe that Chatham was lying, but something in his eyes told her that he was telling the truth. Sylvia had lied to her, had omitted information for a reason. It was her word against Chatham’s on whether she was raped or had sex with the boys willingly, but she’d clearly chosen not to tell Quinn the whole story.
Quinn yanked her hand away when Robert Chatham took it in his. His expression had softened, and he looked at her with an expression of compassion and admiration.
