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Authors: Anthea Fraser

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BOOK: The Unburied Past
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‘Please try not to blame Janice,' Louise said in a low voice as the men made conversation. ‘She's been desperate for a baby for years now, and I've been quite worried about her. Rest assured that Kirsty couldn't be more loved.'

Lynne, in her protective cocoon, smiled and nodded, and the Grenvilles moved away.

And now the last people were leaving and they could escape. Emotionally drained both by his own grief and by trying to protect Lynne, what Harry needed most was a good strong whisky, which he knew his father-in-law would supply. Only eight more days, then Canada here they come! God, he could hardly wait!

FOUR
2012

C
harlotte Anderson scooped up her baby son as he crawled determinedly towards the fireplace and replaced him facing in the opposite direction. ‘Have you heard from Adam lately?' she asked her mother.

Lynne suppressed a sigh. ‘No, but you know what's he like. Not a squeak out of him for months, then he turns up unannounced, expecting the full prodigal son treatment.'

‘I've sent emails and left messages on his voicemail, to no avail. Claire's getting worried that he won't turn up for Jamie's christening, and he
is
the godfather, for heaven's sake.'

‘He'll be there,' Lynne said with more confidence than she felt. For Adam was his own person and always had been. Even as a toddler he'd disliked being held, and after those first traumatic days when he'd asked repeatedly for his parents, he'd appeared to dismiss them and his baby sister from both his mind and his memory. At first, Lynne and Harry had been thankful he'd escaped apparently unscathed, but as time went on and they increasingly introduced Emma and Mark into their conversation, he had shown little interest, accepting without comment the story of the car crash and his subsequent adoption.

‘He's a boy, honey!' Harry had repeated over the years. ‘They're different animals from girls. It's not that he doesn't care, he just thinks it's sissy to show it.'

But Lynne found his detachment hard to accept, especially since, as he grew older, he looked more and more like his father. Sometimes, when he came suddenly into the room, her heart gave a little skip as memory blurred with reality.

Since his mid-teens Adam had been a magnet for girls, all of whom he treated with benign indifference, and Harry had had to deal with several angry fathers along the line. Now, in his late twenties, the amiable but firm distance he maintained between himself and his family meant they'd no idea who his current girlfriend was, if, indeed, he had one.

In one respect, however, they'd had no cause for worry, and that was academically. He'd proved to be an exceptionally bright child, coming top of his class despite invariably being the youngest in it. Since he was fluent in several languages they'd hoped he might join the Diplomatic Service, but he'd surprised them by electing to go into teaching, and now held the position of head of the French department at one of Toronto's most eminent colleges.

Lynne, telling herself she'd a lot to be thankful for and shouldn't quibble, bent to pick up her grandson.

The temperature was steadily rising and it was as well, Adam Carstairs reflected, that the term was almost over. He lay on the bed, an arm beneath his head, watching a fly crawl over the ceiling and feeling the sweat course down his body.

‘I really should be going,' Gina said unenthusiastically.

He grunted. Did that, she wondered, mean ‘OK' or ‘Stay a bit longer'? Resignedly guessing the answer, she swung her feet to the floor and reached for her clothes. They'd come straight from school, and the crumpled dress she retrieved was the one in which, an hour or two earlier, she'd been teaching year four.

The bed dipped as he shifted position. ‘Oh, by the way, the sabbatical's confirmed,' he said.

She stiffened. It was months since he'd mentioned the possibility, and she'd been praying he'd changed his mind. ‘Where and when?' she asked, keeping her voice level.

‘The UK, in September.'

She swung to face him. ‘
This
September?'

‘The very same, though I'll be leaving earlier, to take in a tour of Europe.'

Anger was building inside her. ‘And exactly when were you proposing to tell me?'

‘I'm telling you now.'

‘A bit late in the day, isn't it?'

He raised an eyebrow. ‘I don't think so; I've not told the family yet.'

Her eyes widened. ‘Your parents don't know you're going abroad for a year?'

‘I keep telling you, they're not my parents. But no, they don't; I've been putting it off because sparks will fly when they realize I'll be living amid my estranged family.'

It occurred to Gina, not for the first time, how little she knew about this man she'd been sleeping with for the past year. Though he'd occasionally referred to his family, she'd never met them and this was the first she'd heard of any rift.

‘Estranged?' she echoed.

‘Well, not entirely, but there's always been a coolness between my lot and the couple who adopted my sister.'

Even more bewildered, she struggled to recall the names he'd mentioned. ‘Charlotte, or Claire?'

He made a dismissive gesture. ‘Neither,' he said impatiently. ‘Charlotte and Claire are, and have always been, my cousins. I'm talking of my
real
sister, in the UK. I met her a couple of times when we were visiting my English grandparents, before they moved out here. We didn't hit it off – probably just as well there was an ocean between us!'

‘But there won't be, once you're there.'

‘Very perceptive, my love.'

She bit her lip. ‘So why that particular location, when the world's your oyster?'

‘For one thing, Westbourne's arguably the most prestigious school in the south of England.'

‘Ah, Westbourne! So this is down to Nick!' A teacher from there had recently spent a sabbatical at their college.

‘I liked what he had to say about it, certainly, but I also thought it would be amusing to be the fox in the hen coop. And as it happened, the college were gratifyingly keen to have me.'

Gina stood up, smoothed down her dress and stepped into her sandals. Then she said quietly, ‘What about me?'

He turned his head to look at her, his grey eyes unfathomable. ‘What
about
you, my sweet? We've had a good time over the last year, but nothing lasts for ever.'

‘I'll miss you,' she said, despising the wobble in her voice.

‘Then come and visit. Spend your next vacation in the UK.'

‘You will be coming back, though? Next summer?'

‘In all probability,' he said.

She switched to what she hoped was a safer topic. ‘Shall I see you over the weekend?'

Adam stretched lazily. ‘Unlikely. My new nephew, or second-cousin or whatever he is, is being christenbed on Sunday and I'm expected there in my best bib and tucker. I just hope he doesn't bawl his way through it like Charlotte's brat did.'

‘It's supposed to be lucky,' Gina said.

‘Not if you've a hangover, it's not.'

She laughed, collected her bag from the chair and turned to the door. ‘Have fun!' she said lightly, and left the apartment before the threatened tears could betray her.

James Alexander Hunter behaved impeccably throughout the service, even treating the vicar to a toothless smile as water trickled down his face. Lynne, looking at the circle of her family, felt a wave of happiness. This, surely, was as it should be, all of them here together – Mum and Dad, Harry's parents, her daughters with their husbands and babies, and – making it still more special, as they rarely saw him these days – Adam, looking incredibly handsome in his grey suit. How Mark would have loved to record the occasion, she thought before she could stop herself. For, of course, the family
wasn't
complete, not without him or Emma or Kirsty. How long ago it all seemed.

After the service they returned to Claire and Sandy's home, where a magnificent spread awaited them.

Thelma Franklyn, smilingly accepting a plate piled with delicacies, was, like her daughter, in a reflective mood. It had been a good decision to move out here when Bob retired, she thought with satisfaction. Lynne's departure, following so swiftly after Mark's death, had hit her hard and, as visits to Canada became more and more frequent, it increasingly seemed there was little left for them in the UK. For though she'd tried to keep in touch with Kirsty, the continuing coolness between herself and Janice led to longer and longer gaps as the years went by. Now, sadly, their contact was reduced to emails and the occasional conversation on Skype, though Thelma still cherished hopes her youngest granddaughter would accept her invitation to come and visit.

Another bonus of moving out here was that while they'd never felt close to Emma's parents, Nora and Ed Carstairs immediately made them welcome, and their friendship had deepened as they became joint great-grandparents to the little boys.

Adam joined her on the sofa, balancing a glass of wine on his plate. ‘A penny for them, Grandma?'

‘Just enjoying the occasion, and wondering when we'll be attending
your
children's christenings!'

He gave a short laugh. ‘Don't hold your breath!'

‘No one special on the horizon?'

He shook his head. ‘Variety's the spice of life – that's my motto.'

‘All right when you're nineteen; less so at twenty-nine.'

‘Don't rush me, Grandma; but if and when I meet the right one, you'll be the first to know. I can't say fairer than that.'

‘Just don't leave it too long,' Thelma advised.

Their conversation was interrupted by Claire's arrival with the christening cake. Glasses of champagne were produced and the baby's health toasted as he lay contentedly in his baby seat. Sandy made a brief speech, the cake was cut and distributed and the occasion began to wind down.

It was then that Adam rose to his feet. ‘I hope you'll excuse me butting in with some news of my own,' he began, holding up a hand as laughing speculation broke out. ‘I just wanted to let you know that from September I shall be taking a year's sabbatical in the UK.'

More exclamations – of surprise this time, tinged, in Lynne's case, with indignation at the short notice. He raised his voice above them. ‘I shall be joining the French department at Westbourne College.'

There was a moment's total silence, ended by Lynne's whispered, ‘
Westbourne?
'

Adam, scanning their startled faces, caught an exchange of glances between his grandfather and Harry, which, to his annoyance, he was unable to interpret.

‘Well?' he challenged. ‘It's one of the top public schools, you know. Is no one going to congratulate me?'

‘Of course, Adam – well done, fella!' Sandy said heartily and joined Bruce, Charlotte's husband, in slapping him on the back and shaking his hand.

‘Why Westbourne?' Harry asked, his voice strained. ‘There must be plenty of other choices.'

‘One of their guys was over last year, extolling its virtues. And also,' Adam went on deliberately, ‘I thought it was time I got to know the other half of my family.' He paused as a sudden idea struck him and promptly acted on it, curious to see its effect. ‘Any of you been watching
Who Do You Think You Are?
on TV?
So-called celebrities trace their family trees, and often turn up some surprises. It's started quite a trend – there are websites galore for people wanting to trace theirs. I thought it might provide a leisure interest while I'm on the spot, as it were, especially as I know virtually nothing about my family.'

‘You've never been interested,' Lynne accused defensively. She'd gone pale, Adam noted, his curiosity aroused. What, exactly, weren't they telling him?

‘Well, this will give me the chance to rectify it.'

Quite suddenly he'd had enough of them, of the cloying sweetness of the cake, the champagne, the general air of self-satisfaction which he seemed to have ruffled. To hell with them! He glanced at his watch. ‘And now I must be on my way. Sorry to break up the party, but I've a date awaiting me.' He turned to Sandy and Claire. ‘Thanks for your hospitality, and blessings on my godson.' And, with a nod encompassing the rest of them, he left the room and, a moment later, the house.

He'd call Gina after all, he decided; if she'd made other arrangements, she could cancel them. She at least appreciated him for what he was, and a spot of enthusiastic sex would restore his balance. His mind churning with half-formed suspicions, he turned the car in the direction of the town.

Back in their own home, Harry and Lynne continued to discuss the bombshell. ‘It's ironic that this should have come up now, within days of Mark and Emma's anniversary,' Harry commented, ‘but at least even Janice must agree they now have to know the truth.'

Following Adam's departure from Claire and Sandy's, conversation had moved seamlessly to other topics. The surprise expressed by most of those present had been due to his intention to look up the family with whom they were supposedly at odds. Apart from themselves, only Bob and Thelma had appreciated the full impact of his announcement; protecting Adam from the truth had of necessity involved withholding it from their daughters, and they'd been too traumatized on their arrival in Canada to face going through it again with Ed and Nora, who still believed the car-crash story.

‘As you know, I've been wanting to come clean for years,' Harry added, ‘but she always dug her heels in, and since they had to be told at the same time, our hands were tied. He'll be furious at being kept in the dark, and I can't say I blame him.'

Lynne lifted a hand and let it fall. ‘It was never the right time. He's … well, we've not been as close to him as we'd hoped, have we, and it wasn't something you could just come out with. It didn't help that he never mentions them. It's as though he's blotted them from his memory.' She turned to Harry impulsively. ‘Let's leave it for a while,' she pleaded. ‘It's another three weeks before he sets off for Europe, and anything might happen. He could change his mind, the school could – anything. Then all this agonizing would have been for nothing.'

BOOK: The Unburied Past
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