The Angel Tree (37 page)

‘I’d love to.’ He followed Dr Cox down a corridor to the nursery. A nurse stood up and smiled as they walked in.

‘We’ve come to see baby Hammond,’ Dr Cox announced.

‘It’s Marchmont, actually, Dr Cox,’ David corrected him, feeling a sudden lump in his throat. Whatever the circumstances and the complexities of his familial ties to this
child, a new life bearing his surname had just entered the world.

‘Right you are.’ She walked over to a bassinet, lifted out a tiny bundle and handed it carefully to David.

He looked down at the minute, screwed-up face. The baby’s eyes opened and stared at him.

‘She seems very alert,’ he said.

‘Yes, she’s a strong little thing,’ commented the nurse.

David kissed the baby on the cheek, his eyes wet with tears.

‘I hope so. For her sake, I hope so,’ he murmured.

Six weeks after the birth of Cheska’s baby, John Cox called David into his office when he arrived for one of his fortnightly visits.

‘I think Cheska’s ready to go home.’

‘That’s wonderful news!’ David was delighted.

‘It seems that giving birth has cleared her mind. She’s taken huge steps forward ever since and appears lucid, calm and relaxed. She seems to have developed a good rapport with the
baby and her consultant from the hospital popped in yesterday to administer her six-week post-birth check-up and pronounced her physically fit. Obviously, it would be far more beneficial for both
of them if Cheska was living in a more natural setting than a psychiatric hospital as she begins her journey into motherhood.’

‘Absolutely. And you think she’s mentally strong enough to cope?’

‘All I can say is that she’s hugely improved. She still refuses to talk about her mother, but we could keep her here for the rest of her life and she may never speak about what
happened that night. The good news is that she hasn’t mentioned Bobby Cross since the birth, which is a healthy sign. Of course, she’ll need lots of support, but I do think that having
her daughter to care for has given her a new purpose and someone else to think about other than herself.’

‘Good. I sincerely hope you’re right.’

‘Only time will tell if I am, but take her home and see how she progresses. Any problems, you know where we are.’ Dr Cox stood up. ‘Let’s go and tell Cheska the good
news, shall we?’

Cheska was sitting in her room giving her daughter a bottle. She smiled as David and Dr Cox came in.

‘Hello, Cheska, how are you and the baby? You both look very well,’ said David, beaming down at the pair of them.

‘We are. Oh, and we don’t have to call her “baby” any more. You’ll be pleased to know that, at long last, I’ve decided on a name. I’m going to call her
Ava, after my character in
Please, Sir, I Love You
. I think it suits her, don’t you?’

‘It’s a lovely name,’ agreed David. ‘And I have some good news for you: Dr Cox has said I can take you and Ava home.’

‘Oh, that’s wonderful! I can’t wait to show her Marchmont.’

‘I’ll get a nurse to come and help you pack up your suitcase. We’ll see you in my office in an hour to fill out the necessary paperwork,’ said the doctor.

LJ stood in the nursery at Marchmont. After the phone call from David she and Mary had hurriedly set to work to make it welcoming.

‘Well, everything’s ready in here. Won’t it be marvellous to have a baby around the place again?’ she said to Mary, who was putting clean sheets on the mattress in the
bassinet.

‘Yes, Mrs Marchmont, it will now.’

Twenty minutes later, as the sun was setting, LJ spotted David’s car coming up the drive. ‘They’re here!’ She clapped her hands in delight. ‘I’ll go
downstairs and greet them.’ She flew down the stairs and hurried outside.

‘Welcome, darlings. I’m so glad to have you both here,’ she said warmly, helping Cheska and the baby out of the back seat.

‘And I’m so happy to be back, Aunt LJ. Here, do you want to hold her?’

Cheska passed the bundle to LJ, who cooed at the baby as she carried her inside. ‘She’s even more beautiful than she was when I saw her last. I do believe she has your eyes, Cheska.
Have you decided what to call her yet?’ she asked, as they walked into the drawing room.

‘Ava.’

‘How lovely, like my favourite film star. Ms Gardner was quite stunning in
The Angel Wore Red
.’ LJ sat down in a chair and cradled the infant in her arms. Ava’s small
features creased and she let out a yell.

‘She’s hungry,’ said Cheska.

‘Mary prepared some bottles earlier and put them in the fridge. Shall we go up to the nursery? I’ll have Mary warm one up and bring it upstairs.’

LJ watched as Cheska sat in the nursery and fed her baby. She was impressed by the confident way she seemed to be handling her daughter, although she was little more than a
child herself. Having winded her, Cheska stood up and gently placed a contented Ava in the bassinet.

‘There, she’ll probably sleep until midnight. She usually does.’

‘Well, why don’t you go to bed?’ LJ suggested. ‘I’ll stay with her and do the midnight shift. You must be exhausted, my dear.’

‘I am a bit tired. It’s very kind of you to offer.’

‘From now on, you’ll be fighting me off. I adore tiny babies,’ chuckled LJ.

‘You know, when I was little, this room used to frighten me,’ Cheska mused, as she gazed around it.

‘Why, Cheska?’

‘I don’t know. Goodnight, LJ, and thank you.’ Cheska kissed her lightly on the cheek and left.

The following morning Cheska left LJ and Mary to fuss over the baby and went out for a long walk. Her heart lifted at the sheer beauty of the Marchmont estate. The house lay
basking against the hills in the glorious sunshine, its wide terraces filled with urns of scarlet geraniums. The woods below were a riot of green that seemed to tumble down the sides of the
valley.

She arrived back just in time for lunch and joined LJ and David on the terrace.

‘It’s wonderful to have Mary’s home cooking after all that disgusting food they gave me at Medlin,’ she said to David.

‘Well, you still look too skinny to me,
fach
,’ announced Mary, serving her a large plateful of succulent lamb and tender new potatoes. ‘What you need is lots of fresh
air to put some colour in your cheeks. I remember saying as much to your mother when she first came here.’

LJ shot Mary a warning glance, but Cheska simply ignored the mention of Greta.

‘I really feel I should go back to London quite soon. All my things are there, and I’d like to collect some of them.’

David eyed his mother, signalling caution.

‘That’s the spirit,’ said LJ, taking no notice of him. ‘Would you like me to look after the little one for a couple of days?’

‘If you wouldn’t mind. You see, I’ve decided Ava and I should make our home here for now, if you’ll have us. I’m going to tell Leon that my film career’s on
hold whilst I bring up my little girl.’

‘Well, well.’ LJ shot a glance of triumph across the table at her son. ‘Of course I will, darling. Nothing would please me more.’

‘I have to go back to London on Monday, too, Cheska. You could drive down with me if you’d like,’ said David, wondering why he felt so uneasy about the idea.

‘Thank you. That sounds perfect.’

That afternoon David called Dr Cox to tell him of the planned trip.

‘It sounds as if she really is facing up to reality at last. It’s excellent news, Mr Marchmont.’

‘So, I should let her go?’

‘I can’t see why not. You say you’ll be going with her?’

‘Yes. But what do I tell her about her mother?’

‘Has there been any change?’

‘No,’ David confirmed.

‘Then I should leave it to Cheska to lead the way towards the subject, if she wants to.’

‘But she’ll notice, surely, that Greta isn’t at their apartment? Do I tell her the truth?’

‘If she asks where she is, then yes. I would suggest that you don’t leave her alone overnight, though.’

‘Of course. I’ll stay with her.’

‘Well, give me a ring if you need my advice, but take your lead from her. It’s important she’s allowed to deal with this in the way she wants to.’

‘Right. I’ll let you know how we go.’

The night before Cheska was leaving with David for London she made her way along to the nursery and opened the door. The room still unsettled her, but tonight there were no
ghosts to face, only a small baby sleeping peacefully in her cot.

Cheska reached over and caressed her daughter’s cheek.

‘I’m sorry I have to leave you, little one, but LJ will take good care of you,’ she whispered. ‘And one day, I’ll come back for you, I promise. Goodbye, Ava.’
Cheska bent over and kissed the baby on her forehead, then quietly left the room.

Cheska and David chatted amiably on the drive to London.

‘It’s wonderful to see you looking so much better, but you mustn’t overdo it in London, sweetheart,’ he said.

‘I know. But I just feel I want to say goodbye to the past and start my new life with Ava at Marchmont.’

‘You’re being very brave, Cheska. Becoming a mother has certainly made you grow up.’

‘I’ve had to, for Ava’s sake. Uncle David, there are some things . . . some things I want to ask you,’ she said slowly.

David prepared himself mentally. ‘Fire away.’

‘Was Owen my real father?’

David was taken aback by the question. It certainly wasn’t what he’d expected her to ask, but there’d been enough lies in the past few months and Cheska seemed strong enough to
take the truth.

‘No. He wasn’t.’

‘Are you?’

David chuckled. ‘No. Sadly not.’

‘Then who was my father?’

‘An American officer. Your mother and he fell in love just after the end of the war, then he left for America and was never seen or heard of again. Please try not to upset yourself,
Cheska. Although there is no blood tie between the Marchmonts and yourself, both LJ and I regard you and Ava as family.’

‘Thank you for telling me, Uncle David,’ she said quietly. ‘I needed to know.’

They arrived at the apartment in Mayfair at five o’clock that evening.

‘Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer to leave it until the morning, Cheska? We could go to my house in Hampstead instead and have an early night,’ David said as they approached
the entrance.

‘No,’ Cheska replied. She was already turning the key in the front door.

David followed her inside. ‘I left everything pretty much as it was, though the cleaner’s been coming in, as usual,’ he remarked as she opened the door and switched on the
lights. He tried to gauge her mood as she wandered into the sitting room.

‘Would you like a drink, Uncle David? Mummy always kept some whisky for when you came around.’

‘Yes, thank you.’ It was the first time in all these months that Cheska had mentioned Greta.

She went to the drinks cabinet, took out a glass and poured the whisky.

‘There you are.’ She handed it to him and they both sat down on the sofa. ‘I should like to stay here tonight, Uncle David. Would you stay with me?’

‘Of course I will. Can I take you out for something to eat? I’m starving.’

‘I’m not very hungry, to be honest.’

‘Then why don’t I pop round the corner to the shop, pick up some bread, cheese and ham, and we’ll have an indoor picnic?’

‘That would be lovely, Uncle David.’

When he had left, Cheska stood up and walked slowly into her mother’s bedroom. She picked up the large, framed photograph of herself that sat on the bedside cabinet. She walked over to the
wardrobe and opened the doors. The familiar smell of Greta’s perfume hit her. She buried her face in the soft fur of a mink coat and wept.

What David had told her in the car had confirmed her deepest fears. The argument with her mother at the Savoy couldn’t have been a dream. And if her mother hadn’t lied to her about
her real father, then in all probability she hadn’t lied about Bobby being married either.

After the argument she had followed her mother from the hotel. And then . . .

‘Oh God,’ she moaned. ‘I’m so sorry, Mummy, so sorry.’

Cheska lay on her mother’s bed, her panicky breaths coming in short, sharp bursts. She ground her fists into the pillow, feeling a terrible, uncontrollable anger.

It was all Bobby’s fault. And he would be punished.

Cheska heard the doorbell, hastily pulled herself together, and went to let her uncle in.

David prepared sandwiches in the kitchen as Cheska sat and watched him, then placed the plates of food on the table and sat down opposite her.

‘It must feel strange coming back here,’ he ventured, taking a bite of his sandwich.

‘It does,’ she agreed. ‘Uncle David, Mummy’s dead, isn’t she? You can tell me, you know.’

David almost choked. He managed to swallow, took a sip of the disgusting wine he’d bought at the corner shop and looked at her. ‘No, Cheska, she isn’t.’

‘Mummy’s alive? Oh my goodness! I—’ She looked about her as if Greta would appear through the kitchen door at any moment. ‘Then where
is
she?’

‘In a hospital, Cheska.’

‘She’s sick?’

‘Yes, she is. She’s in a coma and has been for the past few months. Do you know what a coma is?’

‘Sort of, yes. In one of my films my brother fell out of a tree, bumped his head and was in a coma for ages afterwards. The director explained it was like Sleeping Beauty falling asleep
for a hundred years.’

‘That’s a very good analogy,’ David agreed. ‘Yes, your mother is “asleep” and, sadly, no one knows when she’ll wake up.’

‘Where is she?’

‘In Addenbrooke’s Hospital, in Cambridge. Would you like to go and see her? It’s only an hour and half away by car.’

‘I . . . don’t know.’ Cheska looked nervous.

‘Well, why don’t you think about it? I know Mummy’s doctors would be thrilled if you did. You never know, the sound of your voice might wake her up.’

Cheska yawned suddenly. ‘I’m awfully tired, Uncle David, I think I’ll go to bed.’ She stood up, then kissed him on the top of his head. ‘Night, night.’

‘Goodnight, Cheska.’

David drained his wine glass, then stood up to clear away the plates. He’d call Dr Cox tomorrow, tell him what had happened tonight and ask his advice. There was no doubt it was a
breakthrough, not just for Cheska, but, just possibly, for his beloved Greta, too.