Don't Let Me Go (4 page)

Though Charlotte had her mother and Bob to thank for making this new start a reality, the unexpected windfall she’d received just before leaving Britain meant that, thankfully, she didn’t have to depend on them completely. In fact, she was able to cover all of her and Chloe’s expenses and had even bought a small car on arriving without noticing much of a dent.

‘This is for you,’ her sister, Gabby, had said as she’d pulled an envelope from her bag on that last day. They’d been outside the vicarage where they’d both grown up, with tears shining in their eyes as they looked at one another for what they knew could be the last time. ‘I always meant to give it to you,’ she’d continued, ‘perhaps I should have said so before now, but it’s yours and I want you to have it.’

Charlotte had looked at the envelope, not understanding what it was.

‘It’s half the money from the sale of the house,’ Gabby had explained shakily. ‘It’s been as much your home as it has mine, so it’s only right . . .’ She’d been unable to go on as Charlotte had started to break down too.

‘You don’t need to do this,’ Charlotte had told her. ‘It wasn’t what your mother wanted.’

‘It was what Daddy wanted, and it’s what I want too.’

It was a huge sum of money, at least by Charlotte’s standards, and would definitely be enough for her to buy somewhere here in New Zealand – when the time was right.

She wondered if she would know when that time had come.

‘Is she OK?’ Anna asked, glancing up from wiping the table as Charlotte came back into the kitchen.

‘Out for the count,’ Charlotte assured her. ‘Lucky I remembered to bring Boots, or I’d have had to go back and get him.’

Anna smiled. ‘As if she’d ever go anywhere without him,’ she commented. Then, ‘Fancy a nightcap? There’s still some limoncello in the freezer.’

‘That you made?’ Charlotte asked teasingly. ‘From the lemons in the top orchard?’

‘Actually, they’re from the trees next to the veranda,’ Anna corrected, ‘and it isn’t half bad, even if I do say so myself.’

‘You’ll have to show me how to make it,’ Charlotte declared, going to fetch a bottle and two shot glasses while Anna dried her hands and rubbed in some cream. ‘There are two trees behind the bach that should come into fruit I guess around July, August time, given everything happens at the opposite time of year here.’

‘It might be a little earlier than that, we’ll see. And you should have some oranges over there too, so we could make mandarincello – or marmalade. I’m sure Chloe will want to be involved in that, given it’s Boots’s favourite.’

Having no doubt of it, Charlotte smiled as she filled the two glasses, and passing one to her mother she wandered out to the veranda where clouds of sandflies were ready to close in on the ankles and the last track of Bob’s jazz medley was fading into the night. The bay was shrouded in darkness now, with random sprinkles of light glistening from Russell in the far distance and the Maori settlement that was much closer to home. Though a slight chill was crisping the air, the scent of jasmine, mingling with citronella burners and salt water, was no less evocative of summer nights as it wafted up over the gardens, nor was the throaty whistle of a kiwi lost in the breeze.

‘I think she’s settling in very well, don’t you?’ Anna said, as she came to join Charlotte on one of the pale grey and white striped sofas overlooking the bay.

Understanding she meant Chloe, Charlotte nodded as she gave a gentle sigh. ‘She’s like any other little girl of her age, healthy happy, full of energy . . . It’s only the issue with men that sets her apart.’

Though Anna couldn’t disagree, she said, ‘She’ll get over it, eventually.’

Charlotte didn’t respond, she simply hoped in her heart that it would be sooner rather than later.

‘I was wondering,’ Anna said carefully, ‘if you ever call her by her real name now.’

Charlotte glanced at her in surprise. ‘No, never,’ she replied. ‘I’m afraid if I do that it’ll bring it all back. Why? Do you think I should?’

Anna quickly shook her head. ‘No, not at all. I think she’s very happy being Chloe. Very happy indeed.’

Charlotte sipped her drink and turned her gaze to the translucent sliver of moon hanging over the bay. ‘Why did you ask?’ she said.

Anna shrugged. ‘I’m not sure. I guess I just don’t ever think of her as anything but Chloe now, and I wondered if it was the same for you.’

Charlotte’s gaze stayed on the moon. ‘Yes, it’s the same for me,’ she said. Then, ‘We did the right thing, bringing her here. I’ve never been in any doubt of it, but if you . . .’

‘There’s no doubt in my mind either,’ Anna interrupted, putting a hand on hers. ‘Though I have to admit I was being selfish when I suggested it. After missing out on so much of your life, I couldn’t bear the thought of missing out on any more. I also do happen to think it was the best thing for Chloe.’

Charlotte wasn’t going to argue with that, but nor could she bring herself to say any more about it right now.

Anna glanced at her, and seeming to sense the turmoil inside her, she said, very gently, ‘You’re doing fantastically well, you know. I feel very proud of you.’

Forcing back a bitter laugh, Charlotte took another sip of her drink. Maybe she was doing well; maybe she should start telling herself that and believing it, instead of allowing her happiness to be so weighted with guilt and dread.

‘I’m not sure whether now is a good time to bring this up,’ Anna went on tentatively, ‘but I feel . . . Well, I feel you resent me for what’s happened, and I don’t just mean recent events. I mean for the way I left you when you were young . . .’

‘Actually, now isn’t the time,’ Charlotte told her, getting to her feet. ‘But for the record, I don’t resent you.’ It was a lie, but what good would it do to admit it? ‘I’m glad you came to find me,’ she pressed on, meaning it. ‘I never felt as though I belonged before, and now I . . . Well, I can’t say I do, exactly, but I’m getting there.’

Anna stood up too and took Charlotte’s hand. ‘How would you feel about us having some counselling together?’ she asked. ‘It might help us to talk things through with someone . . .’

Stopping her, Charlotte said, ‘I’m not refusing to, but just not yet, OK?’

Anna regarded her closely and eventually nodded.

Feeling bad now for being difficult, Charlotte said, ‘I want you to know how much I appreciate . . .’

‘Sssh,’ Anna interjected, putting a finger to her lips. ‘You don’t have to thank me for anything. I’m your mother, I want what’s best for you and I want to be there for you. I would have been a long time ago if . . . Well, if things had been different, but we can’t change the past, so I guess there’s no point pretending we can. At least not tonight.’ She smiled gently. ‘It’s the future that counts now.’

Charlotte glanced away.

‘And there’s nothing to be afraid of.’

Astounded that she could say, or even think that, Charlotte turned back to her.

‘You’re thinking of Chloe’s father, aren’t you?’ Anna challenged. ‘Well don’t. There’s nothing he can do now. He won’t be coming to find you.’

Charlotte’s eyes went down. No, he wouldn’t be coming to find them, thank God, because he’d received a life sentence for what he’d done. So right now, even as they spoke, he was over there in England finding out how other prisoners treated those who harmed young children, particularly their own.

So she had nothing to fear from him.

Nothing at all.

If only it was as simple as that.

Chapter Three

A JUMPING-OFF
ceremony at Aroha Childcare Centre was always anticipated with great excitement by the children old enough to understand it; for those at the heart of it, it was one of the true highlights of their young lives.

Today Bevan Greengrass was the star of the show.

Because it was a special occasion for one of Chloe’s special friends Charlotte had been invited to watch the ceremony this morning, along with Bevan’s parents, grandparents, two of his aunts, and his very important Uncle Grant. At his nephew’s request, Grant had turned up in his policeman’s uniform while his wife, Polly, was in her white doctor’s coat complete with toy stethoscope to test everyone’s hearts.

Tomorrow Bevan was going to be five, which was the reason he was jumping off today.

It still seemed odd to Charlotte that children started school on their fifth birthday, rather than at the beginning of the school year, however that was the system here, and she wasn’t about to fault it. Why would she, when everything she’d seen of childcare so far was as good as anything she’d ever come across in England, in fact in some ways it was better. Certainly the learning rituals were impressive, as were the outdoor activities as well as the embracing of native culture. Plus – and this was a huge plus for any parent – there was far less risk of predators prowling the vicinity than there was in Britain.

What a blessing it was to have Chloe here. If only it was possible to bring all the children who’d suffered the way she had and help give them a fresh start too.

Dream on, Mother Teresa, and mind your halo doesn’t slip.

‘He hardly slept a wink last night, he was so excited,’ Bevan’s mother whispered from the next seat.

Not surprised, Charlotte said, ‘I’m sure he’ll make up for it tonight after all the fuss, which can only be a good thing with such a big day ahead of him tomorrow.’

Ellie Greengrass nodded agreement as she leaned back to hear what her brother, Grant, was saying.

Their adult group was seated to one side of the circle the cross-legged children had formed around a gaily painted cardboard throne, which in turn was sitting grandly beneath the all important jump-off ring. This prized artefact was rather like a large coolie hat strung with vibrant ribbons and streamers and edged with dangling tags that sported the names of all the children who’d jumped off from its inspiring auspices in the past.

As they’d already sung the songs Bevan had chosen – ‘Wheels on the Bus’, ‘Tufa Tafa Reach up High’, and ‘We’re Going to the Zoo’, and played his favourite games, Farmer in the Dell and Doggy, Doggy Where’s Your Bone – it was time now for the big event. The large hall with its colourful building blocks and playhouses pushed to far corners, and game-painted floor, ignored for once, was in a stage of expectant hush as its excited occupants waited. When the group leader’s office door finally opened and one of the assistants banged a drum, the apprehensive but proud freckle-faced Bevan in his cherished Indian feather headdress and cowboy chaps appeared. The other children quickly leapt to their feet, thumping tambourines, hooting on horns and stamping their feet.

Charlotte’s heart melted as she watched Chloe desperately trying to keep up with the others as she struck her triangle and tried not to trip over her own feet. Bevan made a stately walk to his throne, at which point the playroom fell quiet again and Charlotte had to stifle a sob of laughter as Chloe dropped her triangle and whispered sorry – whether it was to the triangle, or the room at large, wasn’t possible to tell.

Bevan climbed up on to his throne and at a nod from Celia, the group leader, the other kids sank to the floor. During the poem that Celia read out in praise of Bevan’s character and achievements Chloe’s eyes were like saucers. She simply couldn’t have appeared more rapt.

‘She’s right into it,’ Grant Romney murmured to Charlotte as the children rose to their feet again.

‘Just a bit,’ Charlotte whispered back wryly.

‘OK, everyone, time to create the way,’ Celia announced.

With much scuffling, pushing and whispering, they eventually divided into two columns to create an avenue from the throne to Bevan’s family.

Bevan was now standing on the throne.

‘So Bevan, who have you chosen to jump off to?’ Celia asked.

Bevan’s colour rose as he cried, ‘My Uncle Grant.’

As the children applauded Grant stepped to the end of the avenue, clearly more than a little pleased.

‘How many claps would you like?’ Celia asked Bevan.

‘Five,’ he replied, holding up a hand, the fingers splayed.

Celia nodded approvingly. ‘OK. So, if you’re ready, it’s time for your
jump-off
.’

‘Jump off,’ everyone cheered.

‘Jump off,’ Chloe echoed, adding a leap of exuberance.

Smiling so hard it hurt, Charlotte clapped and counted along with the others as Bevan made four jumps down the avenue, and with the last hurled himself straight into his uncle’s arms.

‘Well done, Bevan,’ Celia applauded. ‘You’ve successfully jumped off to your Uncle Grant and everyone here at Aroha, which means . . .’ She put a hand to her ear.

‘Love!’ the children shouted.

‘. . . we wish you good luck in your new school, Bevan, and we hope you do as well there as you have here with us.’

As everyone crowded around Bevan to pat his back or shake his hand, Chloe beat a path straight to Charlotte.

‘Please can I do a jump-off?’ she asked, her voice trembling with hope.

‘Oh darling, of course you can,’ Charlotte replied, scooping her up. ‘When you’re five and ready to go to school, you’ll have a jump-off too.’

Chloe’s face dropped with disappointment.

‘You don’t have long to wait,’ Charlotte reminded her. ‘In less than a month you’ll be four, and think how lovely having a birthday’s going to be. We’ll bake cakes at home to bring for your friends here . . .’

‘Celia said I can bake a cake here,’ Chloe told her.

‘Absolutely, you can do that too.’

‘And I can have candles that I blow out.’

‘Of course. It’ll be
your
birthday, so you’ll be able to do lots of lovely things like choosing the games you play . . .’

‘And I can make a wish too.’

Charlotte showed her intrigue. ‘Have you decided what you’re going to wish for yet?’

Chloe frowned as she thought.

‘There’s no rush. You can take your time to think about it. Now, what about going to say good luck to Bevan?’

As she wriggled down and pressed through to her friend, Charlotte was curious to see how unaffected she appeared by the fact that Bevan wasn’t going to be at the Centre after today. Maybe she hadn’t taken it in yet – or more likely, Charlotte realised, as long as she, Charlotte, was around that was all Chloe needed.