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Authors: Fay Sampson

Father Unknown (18 page)

BOOK: Father Unknown
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‘I don't think it will be any good. He used to adore Tamara when she was small. But lately I get the impression from her that he doesn't really care for teenagers. And of course, he's got
her
children.' There was a twist of bitterness in her voice.
Millie had said that Tamara hadn't been enjoying her visits to her father recently. It began to make sense now. The wicked stepmother? Perhaps they had been wrong about the Stratford notelet, after all.
She copied the entry in the address book. It was for a village in Warwickshire, as they'd guessed. She noted the telephone number.
She looked up to find Lisa's attention concentrated on the door. Suzie tensed, listening for the all-too-quiet hum of a car turning into the drive or Tom's urgent whistle. Even the silence seemed ominous.
‘Thank you,' she said, turning a nervous smile on Lisa. ‘I won't stay. Do you want me to tell you if we find her?'
Lisa gazed at her with longing. Then her face began to crumple, as though she would burst into tears. She mastered it. But she shook her head hopelessly.
What must it be like, Suzie wondered, to be so afraid of your husband that you daren't ask where your daughter is?
The walk through the wide hall and out of the front door into the sunshine was nerve-wracking.
The drive was empty. Tom was leaning against a wall on the opposite pavement. He straightened up when he saw her.
She had reached the gate, and he was coming across the road to meet her, when a large silver car swung into the road.
Suzie's gasp was almost a scream. In two strides, Tom was beside her. He seized her arm and began to propel her away from the house.
The car shot down the road towards them. For a horrified moment, Suzie wondered if it would mount the pavement and crush them against the wall.
It swept on past. They watched it turn into a drive at the far end of the avenue.
‘Whew!' Tom mopped his brow in exaggerated relief. ‘Amazing what a guilty conscience does for you. But did you get anything?'
Suzie showed him the precious paper with her notes.
‘Well, guess that was worth a couple of heart attacks. Good stuff, Mum.'
‘But she doesn't think Tamara will be there. She didn't get on with her stepmother.'
TWENTY
‘
W
hich of us is going to phone him?' Suzie looked round the assembled family, hoping that it wouldn't be her, but fearing that it would. Only Prudence was an interested but detached observer. ‘And if his agent's set up the barricades around him, to protect him from his adoring fans, how's he going to react if one of us asks out of the blue for Reynard Woodman?'
‘Now you've gotten me confused,' Prudence said. ‘Her name is Tamara Gamble, right? And her mother married again, so she's Lisa Dawson? So how come this guy is Reynard Woodman? Why doesn't Tamara have
his
name?'
The Fewings looked at her, momentarily puzzled. Then Suzie slapped her hand down on her knee. ‘Of course! We've been talking about his pen name. He's not going to be using that if he wants to keep a low profile in his country hideout. I bet he'll be known to the locals as Kevin Gamble, like he used to be when we first knew him.'
‘No doubt a perfectly ordinary member of the local community,' Nick agreed. ‘If a little secretive about his source of income.'
‘I should have thought of that,' said Suzie. ‘You gave me the clue yourself, Pru. Clayson, Clarkson. We didn't find Johan in the records at first, because we were looking for the wrong name. It's not Reynard Woodman but Kevin Gamble we need to ask for, so we don't sound like children's fantasy nuts.'
‘I think Millie should ring,' Tom said. ‘It would be a perfectly natural thing for her to do. She'd have done it days ago, if she'd had the number.'
‘Me?' Millie turned pink as they all looked at her. She looked suddenly younger than her fourteen years.
‘Why not?' Suzie asked. ‘If one of us adults started asking questions, it would look a lot more suspicious.'
Nervously, Millie got out her mobile. Suzie passed her the telephone number.
‘Hang on,' Nick said. ‘Put that away.' He brought in the extension phone from the house line and switched on the loudspeaker. ‘Now we can all hear.'
‘What do I say?'
‘Just ask if you can speak to Tamara,' Suzie suggested.
The four of them waited while she dialled and the ringing tone began.
It was interrupted by a girlish voice. ‘Hello. Wood Cottage.'
‘Not much of a disguise, if you've read his books,' Tom snorted.
‘Can I speak to Tamara?'
‘Who?'
‘Tamara. Tamara Gamble.'
There was a surprised silence at the other end. Then a guarded: ‘Who is this speaking?'
‘Millie Fewings. Her friend.'
‘And why would you assume Tamara Gamble is here?'
Millie looked helplessly at her parents. She improvised. ‘That's her father's house, isn't it? Reynard . . . sorry, Kevin Gamble. Is she there?'
‘If you're her friend, you ought to know Tamara doesn't live here.'
‘I know where she
lives.
But she's not there now. I thought she might be with you. Are you Mrs Gamble?'
‘Petronella Gibson. Not that it's any of your business.'
‘Oh . . . But you're Mr Gamble's partner, right?'
‘What's that to do with you? And I'm sure if Tamara wants to get in touch with you, she'll do that herself.'
The phone went dead.
Millie looked up at them, crestfallen. ‘I'm sorry. I messed that up, didn't I?'
‘No, you didn't, love,' Suzie soothed her. ‘I don't think any of us would have done any better.'
‘She didn't exactly say whether Tamara was there or not, did she?' Tom frowned. ‘She could have been keeping it secret, but from her tone of voice, I'd say this Petronella Gibson isn't exactly enchanted with the idea of a teenage stepdaughter.'
‘Tamara's father went off with some singer from a girl group,' Millie said. ‘But that wasn't her name. From what Tamara said, he swapped her for a younger model. But you can understand why.
I'd
have run off with him.'
‘Millie!' Nick exclaimed.
‘But there are children,' Suzie reflected. ‘So the receptionist at the agency said. Persephone and Calliope, poor things. I wonder if they're hers.'
‘What now?' Tom said. ‘Since the phone number didn't produce a result?'
‘There's only one option, isn't there?' Nick said. ‘Try the address.'
‘You mean you really will go to Warwickshire?' Millie was suddenly half out of her chair. ‘
Can
we?'
‘I'm not exactly sure about the “we”, but I don't see any alternative. This has gone on long enough.'
‘Tomorrow?'
‘That's a school day,' Suzie pointed out. ‘And your father and I have to work.'
‘Saturday! Mum! You're only doing that to stop me going to that dance with Dan Curtis.'
‘You're not still thinking of that?' Nick protested. ‘We told you. He's twice your age. The fact that he even asked you says enough about him. Sorry, I'm putting my foot down. You go straight to that phone and tell him you're not coming.'
‘You're just prejudiced. You're as bad as Mr Dawson. You won't let me do
anything
.' Millie made for the door, her eyes dangerously bright.
‘I sure wish
I
could go back to Warwickshire with you guys.' Prudence's warm, level voice flowed across the tense room. ‘I feel I'm missing out on the action. It's quite a story. I came looking for drama in my family history, and I've found it in the twenty-first century too. It'll be something to tell your kids, Millie.'
‘I only hope this has a happy ending,' Nick said.
The past plucked at Suzie's memory. Johan Clayson, dead before the three men signed the bastardy bond for her child.
‘Did you tell him?' Nick demanded, when Millie came back.
She nodded, though her expression was mutinous. ‘I'm not going to forgive you for this, Dad. Anyone else in my class would kill for a date like that!'
‘See sense, love. It's for Tamara's sake. We'll go up to Warwickshire on Saturday. You, Mum and me.'
‘Hey, that's not fair!' Tom exploded. ‘You can't leave me out.' He sounded like a mutinous small boy.
‘I'm sorry, Tom,' Nick said. ‘But this isn't a family day out. Millie has to come, to reassure Tamara, if we find her. And we obviously need a woman, so Mum's a given. And I'd rather be the one to drive them and deal with any awkward customers we may meet.'
‘Are we expecting any?' Suzie asked. ‘He's her father, for goodness' sake.'
‘We're only guessing that she's there. I don't know where this trail may lead.'
‘It's a five-seater car,' Tom insisted. ‘Even if you bring Tamara back, there'd be room. And I need some practice in motorway driving.'
‘Tom,' Nick said patiently, ‘just imagine the scene. A whole family party marching up to the front door. Let's keep this low-key, shall we? Unthreatening.'
‘I'm threatening?'
Suzie saw the disbelief in her son's bright blue eyes. Tom Fewings, who had teenage girls swooning in his path.
‘It's just a question of numbers.'
‘I know how you feel, Tom,' Prudence said quietly. ‘I've gotten so caught up in this story, I'm dying to be there myself. But I certainly would be one too many. So I'm reckoning on spending my last few days in England in your wonderful old Library and Record Office. I guess I need to find all I can before I go.'
‘I'm sorry, Pru.' Suzie felt a pang of a conscience. ‘I wish I could stay and help.'
‘No, girl. You've got more important things to do. My Johan's safely dead and buried, poor soul. It's young Adam I need to trace now. And his forebears, if I can. But you just
have
to find Tamara, and see she's OK until her baby is born.'
‘Don't they have women's refuge thingies?' Millie turned from the window. ‘Couldn't she be holed up in one of those?'
‘Maybe. But I'm not sure whether they'd take in someone Tamara's age.'
A car drew up outside. Millie swung back to look as the door slammed. ‘It's that Rev Taylor from church. The one Tamara said was a bundle of fun. What's he doing here?'
‘I talked to him.' Suzie got swiftly to her feet. ‘I told him about Tamara being missing. He was going to try the Sally Army, without telling the Dawsons. I expect he's got some news.'
She flew to the door and opened it before Alan Taylor could ring the bell.
‘Hello!' he said, with a surprised grin. ‘The clergy aren't always this welcome.'
‘Come in. Have you got any news of Tamara?'
The minister checked as she ushered him into the room full of people. He looked at Suzie for guidance.
‘It's all right. Everyone here knows about Tamara. Nick you know. And these are our children, Tom and Millie.'
‘Hardly children.' Tom was taller than he was. ‘Hello, Tom. Good to meet you. I gather you're celebrating the end of exams. Good luck with the results. And Millie. You must be worried about your friend.'
‘I am.'
‘And this is Prudence Clayson,' Suzie went on. ‘She's over from Pennsylvania, researching her ancestors. But she knows all about Tamara.'
‘It's been the strangest thing.' Prudence got up and held out a hand to the minister. ‘Thanks to Suzie here, I've found this Johan Clayson, from Corley, very close to your city. She was in the same trouble as Tamara. A single mother. I guess it was a whole lot harder for a girl back then.'
‘It was common enough,' Alan Taylor said, shaking her hand. ‘But you're right. Society was a lot less forgiving. Premarital sex wasn't so bad, but you had to tie the knot once there was a baby on the way. You've heard all about having to do penance in a white sheet, I suppose?'
‘Suzie's gotten me into all that. She and Nick even took me to see the church.'
‘But Tamara?' Suzie begged. ‘What have you found about her?'
‘That's what I came to tell you.' Five expectant faces turned up to him. ‘Nothing, I'm afraid. No word of her on the streets or in the hostels where a runaway teenager often turns up. She doesn't seem to have used her mobile.'
‘She threw it away,' Millie burst in. ‘She was afraid someone could trace it. That's why she had to write to me.'
A startled change came over Alan's face. He swung round on Suzie. ‘She's written? You know where she is?'
‘Not exactly,' Suzie said carefully. She paused, then made a decision. ‘Tamara sent Millie a card. Presumably, she got it from the person she was staying with. It had a picture of Anne Hathaway's cottage.'
‘And you think that's where she is? Stratford-upon-Avon?'
‘Or somewhere close.'
‘You don't know that,' Tom objected. ‘Might have been a pack someone picked up on holiday.'
‘True, but then, you see . . .' Suzie turned back to the minister. ‘Tamara's father lives in that area. Her real father. Look, you won't say anything to the Dawsons about this, will you? I was going to tell Lisa, but she's terrified that Leonard would get it out of her. She acts as if she'd rather not find Tamara than have her brought back here.'
Alan's face looked oddly drained of colour. ‘That's a terrible thing to think. Poor Tamara.'
BOOK: Father Unknown
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