Page 50 of The Forgotten
“You could have just asked me, you know,” he said, his voice low.
“And would you have agreed to be tested?” Quinn retorted. She was trying not to cry, and it was easier to keep a rein on her emotions if she were angry.
“I’m not a good man, Quinn; I freely admit that. I’ve made mistakes, and I’ve hurt people intentionally, but had you been honest, I would have gladly given you a swab with my saliva.”
“Why would you do that?” Quinn asked, her eyes narrowed as she finally met Chatham’s gaze.
“Because I’ve learned that you must pay for everything in this life, and if the bill for that night came in the shape of a daughter like you, then I would have been proud that something good came out of it. I know that you are relieved that I’m not your father, and you probably have every right to be, but I must say that I’m a bit disappointed.”
Quinn gaped at Chatham. She hadn’t expected such a dramatic change in his attitude, nor did she think the man had any redeeming qualities, but perhaps she’d judged him too harshly. She still didn’t know the entire truth of that night, and until she did, she would reserve judgment.
“Tell me about Seth,” Quinn asked.
“There’s not much to tell. I lost touch with Seth years ago, after he went back to the States. He was a good bloke. He had that sense of fun that Americans so often have. No inhibitions, no reservations, and no apologies. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble tracking him down; it’s easy enough these days, but I’d talk to Sylvia first. I think you need to be in full possession of the facts.”
Robert Chatham gave Quinn a rueful smile as he got to his feet. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Princess. Perhaps life will throw you in my path again one of these days. Good luck with your search.”
Quinn watched as Robert Chatham walked away, his shoulders squared and his stride purposeful. She glared at the mobile that glinted in the sunshine in her open handbag. She would have to hold off on calling Sylvia until she felt calmer.
Quinn looked up and saw Gabe emerging from the building. He must have been rushing to meet her because his coat was unbuttoned, and his scarf was slung carelessly around his neck. He was patting his pockets to check if he’d taken his mobile and wallet. Gabe smiled and waved, and Quinn promptly burst into tears.
FORTY-FOUR
MARCH 2014
Lingfield, Surrey
Quinn threw another log on the fire and settled on the sofa with her glass of wine. It felt good to be home. She’d missed her little chapel. It was the place where she felt most at peace, despite all the turmoil in her life. The flames licked and stroked the logs, filling the room with a pleasant smell of wood smoke. Quinn took a sip of wine, but it brought her no pleasure, so she set it aside. Perhaps she’d have a cup of tea instead. She went to put the kettle on and looked in the fridge. The milk had gone off, again, so she poured it down the sink, wrinkling her nose at the smell. She’d have to drink her tea black, but there was a half-full tin of biscuits in the cupboard, left over from her last shopping spree, which was a fortuitous find since she was feeling peckish. She was always hungry these days.
Quinn glanced at her mobile. Gabe had remained in London with Emma, since this was something Quinn needed to do alone, and she preferred to do it in a place where she felt in control and expected no interruptions. And there was another reason. Quinn wanted to give Gabe time alone with Emma. He was still nervous about being on his own with her, and this would be a good opportunity for Gabe to prove to himself that he was perfectly capable of taking care of his daughter. It would take time for Gabe to get comfortable with his new role, but he had to start somewhere and look after Emma without using his parents or Quinn as a crutch.
There was a text from Gabe, assuring Quinn that everything was just fine. They had plenty of snacks and were about to watchCinderellaon DVD. Emma was already in full Disney regalia, wearing her Cinderella gown and tiara. Quinn smiled at the photo Gabe sent of the two of them sitting side by side, matching smiles on their faces. Emma had been sorry to leave her grandparents and Buster, but she seemed to be settling into her new home and her new bedroom was a big hit.
Quinn set aside the phone when she heard the crunch of tires on gravel followed by the slamming of a door. She was nervous and suddenly wished that she hadn’t requested this meeting. Did she really want to know? Gabe tried to reason with her and talk her out of confronting Sylvia, but Quinn needed to know. As someone who spent her life unearthing the past, she felt compelled to examine her own. She got to her feet and went to the door, opening it just before Sylvia had a chance to knock. Sylvia stood outside, an eager smile on her face. Quinn only told her that she wanted to meet, so Sylvia assumed that Quinn wanted to spend some quality time with her.
“Quinn, it’s wonderful to see you,” Sylvia gushed as she leaned in to give Quinn a peck on the cheek. “I heard you met Logan. What a coincidence. It’s such a small world, isn’t it? And Colin is such a lovely boy, not like the thug Logan was seeing before. Every mother wants a doctor for her son,” she added with a smile, “even if he only doctors the dead.”
“Colin searches for answers,” Quinn replied. “Closure is important.”
“Of course, it is. Is that Chardonnay?” Sylvia asked as she hung up her coat and scarf and accepted a seat on the sofa. “I love the smell of burning wood. We used to have a fireplace in the house where the boys grew up, but I don’t have one in my flat.”
Quinn poured Sylvia a glass of wine and refreshed her own tea before joining her on the sofa. She knew she had to say something, but Sylvia’s excitement at seeing her made her even more reluctant to broach the subject.
“I was so happy when you called. I know you’ve been busy, but it’s been over a month since we last saw each other. Jude will be home next week, so I thought perhaps we can put something on the calendar. I so want you to meet him. And I would love to finally meet Gabe,” Sylvia added, her eyes sliding to Quinn’s engagement ring.
“Sylvia, I asked you here because I wanted to speak to you in private,” Quinn began. Her mouth was dry, and she wished that she could just forget the whole thing and spend a pleasant hour chatting with Sylvia, but she needed to know the truth, no matter how distasteful. Sylvia was her biological mother, and Quinn needed to know that she could trust her before she could begin to get involved in a relationship with her.
“What about?” Sylvia asked, sipping her wine.
“I saw Robert Chatham a few days ago,” Quinn said, her eyes never leaving Sylvia’s face. Sylvia paled slightly but tried to smile nonchalantly.
“Oh? And how did that come about?”
“I had a paternity test done. He’s not my father.”
“I see,” Sylvia said. She was no longer smiling, her expression closed and her hands folded in her lap. “You don’t waste any time, do you?”
“Sylvia, I want to ask you a question, and I need you to give me an honest answer. There can be no future for us if we can’t be honest with each other.”
