Winds of Change (16 page)

‘Found who?'

‘Halliday has found your daughter.'

All the air suddenly vanished from the room and Miranda clutched the nearest thing, which was Lou's shoulder. When things came into focus again, she looked down at him. ‘Is she registered with one of the family tracing services? Does she . . . want to contact me?'

He shook his head. ‘Not sure. She may be registered. We didn't go that route.'

‘Then how . . . ?'

‘Halliday traced her through a few unorthodox channels. We know where she lives, but she doesn't know yet that you're looking for her.'

‘Oh.' Disappointment seared through Miranda. ‘Then she might not want to meet me.'

‘No. She might not. That was always on the cards. It's up to you to contact her.'

‘She'll be twenty-six now. Is she married?'

‘Yes. And has a child, a son.'

Joy blazed through her. ‘I'm a grandmother?' Her life wasn't a dead end, then. Something of her would carry on, whatever came of this. Strange, how important that was. Tears of happiness welled in her eyes, but she smiled through them. ‘That's such wonderful news.'

‘What are you going to do?'

‘Think about it, work out the best way to contact her, perhaps take advice about that.'

His voice was as gentle as his smile. ‘I'll forward you the information he emailed to me.'

‘Thank you.' She bent to kiss his cheek. ‘I can't thank you enough, Lou. Would you mind if I went and sat in my room now? I need to get my head around this.'

‘Do whatever you wish.'

But before she did anything else, she switched on her computer and opened up the file Lou had just sent her, studying it with wonder in her heart. Wiltshire. Her daughter and grandson lived in Wiltshire. She had been called Katie Brooke, but was now married to a Darren Parrish. Katie. Such a pretty name. At least her adoptive parents hadn't saddled her with old-fashioned, pretentious names like Miranda and Regina. And Katie's son was called Ned.

Miranda swallowed hard. Even to know this much made her feel elated – and apprehensive. What if Katie didn't want to meet her?

The following day was scorchingly hot and Lou said he didn't want to go out in such weather, even in an air-conditioned car. ‘Why don't we go house hunting on the Internet instead, to while away an hour or two?'

‘House hunting? But we've got this place.'

‘We can look at houses in England, for you.'

He was looking tired and she guessed he wanted an excuse for company, so she pulled a chair across to stare with him at the images on the computer screen. After a while, she said thoughtfully, ‘Let's look at rentals instead.'

‘Humour me and look at houses for sale. Much nicer to have a home of your own.'

‘But I can't afford to buy one. It'll just make me feel envious.'

He gave her one of his cocky looks. ‘No, but I could buy one for you.'

She didn't even have to think about that. ‘No!'

‘Why not?'

‘Because it wouldn't be right. I'll ask the trust, plead with them to sell that dreadful flat and . . .' She couldn't finish, because no way could she see Sebastian allowing that to happen.

Lou laid one hand on hers. ‘You'll not get anywhere with that brother of yours and we both know it. He's got his hands clamped tightly around your money and he won't let go unless the law forces him to. And since contesting a will takes time, years probably, I'll buy you a house so that you can escape there as soon as . . . as you need to.'

‘Lou, I can't let you do that.'

He grinned. ‘How can you stop me?'

She stared at him in shock then said quietly, ‘I don't need to, because I know you'd never force something on me.' She saw the light go out of his eyes and took both his hands. ‘Lou, you've given me so much already. I can't go on taking. It's enough, truly it is. Besides, buying a house would cost a fortune. Your remaining money should go to your family.'

He took her hand. ‘Would you let me buy it if you knew I was a billionaire and it would give me enormous pleasure?'

She grew very still, feeling shocked. ‘Are you really so rich?'

He shook his head. ‘Not quite a billionaire, but a multimillionaire, yes. Even Hilary doesn't know how rich I really am. Don't worry. There will be plenty to leave to my niece. Let me give you a house, Miranda. Please?'

She sat down on the floor beside his wheelchair, arms clasped around her knees, trying to come to terms with this development. ‘I don't know what to say.'

‘Think about it, at least.'

She stared down at the expensive new skirt, crumpled now. ‘I shouldn't be sitting on the floor in such beautiful clothes.'

‘You can scrub the floor with them if you want! From now on, Miranda, don't do what you think you
ought
to do. Do what you
want
, do what will give you pleasure, or give other people pleasure. I've lived all my life for business. I was married once, but I cared more about money in those days and she wanted a real family. When I found I had inoperable cancer, I knew she'd been right and I'd been wrong. But I've been doing something useful with my money for the past few weeks: spending it, giving it to charities I approve of. And I've enjoyed that very much.'

‘And I'm another of your charities, aren't I?' She couldn't keep the bitterness out of her voice. People dreamed of having a fairy godmother to bestow gifts upon them, but the gifts she wanted weren't money. She ached for confidence and independence, preferably won through her own efforts. She was coming to see that, now she'd time to think about her own needs.

‘You're not a charity. I was rather hoping you were a friend, a very dear friend.'

She looked sideways and found him staring at her with that wise, other-worldly look. ‘Yes, I am. I've never had such a good friend as you, Lou.'

‘So you'll allow me to buy you a house?'

She sighed, knowing she couldn't refuse him. ‘A small one, then. And I'll pay for the furniture myself by selling those antiques. I can't just take and take.'

He nodded. ‘All right.'

As she was getting to her feet, she saw the intense satisfaction on his face. She knew then that she was doing the right thing. For him, anyway.

But was she doing the right thing for herself? Or was she once again letting someone else rule her life?

As Regina walked into the school, she felt nervous. Ridiculous to be nervous of meeting her own daughter, but she was. She'd phoned Nikki, trying to persuade her to come home and talk, but her daughter had refused point-blank.

The counsellor came out to meet her with what Regina considered a professional smile – the same sort of smile she used with customers.

‘Do come in.'

She looked round. Nikki wasn't there. ‘Where's my daughter?'

‘I thought we could have a few words first, Ms Fox.'

‘Softening me up? I'm not going to attack her, you know.'

‘She's very nervous about this meeting. Thinks you'll try to get her to change her mind.'

‘Well, I haven't changed my mind. She has the whole of her life before her and to get lumbered with a child before she's even got her qualifications is crazy. But I can hardly force her into having an abortion.'

‘And refusing to accept her wishes gracefully could drive a wedge between yourself and your daughter. Do you really want that?'

‘Of course I don't.'

‘Treat her gently, Ms Fox. She's not feeling well, which makes her very vulnerable.'

‘What's wrong?'

The counsellor gave her another of those meaningless smiles. ‘The doctor told her it's just pregnancy sickness. Some women sail through the nine months; others are sick a lot of the time and she's one of them.'

‘She's not . . . at risk?'

‘She says not.'

‘
She
says? Haven't you checked directly with the doctor?'

‘No. Your daughter is legally an adult, so she can do what she wants.'

‘She may be legally an adult, but she's still a child in many ways. All she knows is school and—'

The counsellor leaned back. ‘She'll be here in a minute. Please, calm down and go easy on her. If I think you're upsetting her too much, I'll have to end the meeting.'

Regina bit back a protest, recognizing a brick wall when she met one. They sat for a couple of minutes in silence and she caught herself drumming her fingers on the arm of her chair. She'd rather have asked a few more questions but the counsellor was staring out of the window, presumably having said what she wanted to.

There was a knock on the door and Nikki came in. She looked pale and had lost weight, but what shocked Regina rigid was that her face had changed. It had a different expression on it, a woman's face now. She was suddenly so afraid of losing her daughter that she stood up, holding out her arms. ‘Don't I get a hug any more?'

Nikki came rushing forward and when Regina put her arms round her, the two women clung to one another. Regina couldn't decide which of them needed the hug more. It seemed to say there was still hope, that the situation wasn't so bad things couldn't be mended between them.

As she drew away she reached out to brush away a tear rolling down Nikki's face. ‘I'm so glad to see you. So very glad.'

The counsellor cleared her throat. ‘I think we're over the main hurdle now. Wouldn't you two prefer to talk in private?'

Regina looked at her daughter. ‘I'd like that very much. What about you, Nikki?'

‘As long as you don't go on about abortions.'

‘I won't.'

Nikki searched her face and seemed reassured by what she saw there. ‘I'll have to be back when lessons end, though, or Tim will be worrying about me. There's a café across the road. It's got booths, so we'll be fairly private.'

Nikki walked out of the school grounds with her mother. That felt strange. Well, everything felt strange lately. Not until they'd sat down in the café did she admit, ‘I thought you'd be furious.'

‘I'm sad most of all. And bewildered. Not long ago you were a child. Now . . .'

‘I'm growing up fast. I don't have much choice about that, do I? I'm going to be responsible for another life.'

‘Yes. Will you give me your address? Can I come and see you?'

‘You can have the address, but it's a horrid place so I'd rather come and visit you, if you don't mind. A studio flat they call it. Hah! It's a grotty bedsitter.'

‘One room. That must be hard. How are you coping with running a house on top of . . . everything else?'

‘Tim does most of the housework. He's very domesticated. His mother's always insisted on him and his brother doing their share of the chores.'

‘Good for her. You'll need help with the living expenses and I'm prepared to give you some money every week. And perhaps we could look round for somewhere better for you to live? If you'd like to, that is?'

‘I would.' Nikki had never heard her mother sound so hesitant. The whole world was topsy-turvy lately, and she sometimes felt as if she was floating in an alien sea, not knowing where the currents would take her. She swallowed hard and added, ‘I'm glad we're talking again.'

‘Me too.'

‘Tell me about Grandfather. I suppose he left you some money.'

Her mother explained about the will and Nikki stared at her in horror. ‘They did that to poor old Auntie Min?'

‘She's not all that old, only six years older than me.'

‘She always seems a lot older, looks it too. Couldn't you stop them treating her like that?'

‘No. It was a fait accompli. But Minnie's hired a lawyer to contest the will, a good one too, so I'm hoping she'll get the same as us in the end. If anyone asks me, I'll say she deserves it.'

‘Won't that take ages, though?'

‘Unfortunately, yes.'

‘Poor thing.'

‘She's found a new friend, a man. She's moved in with him and he's helping her.'

‘
Aunt Minnie!
'

‘Yes. Women over forty aren't quite in their dotage, you know.'

Nikki could see she'd put her foot in it. Her mother often got very touchy about her age. She glanced at the clock. ‘I have to leave in a couple of minutes.'

‘We've hardly begun to talk. About the baby—'

She stood up. ‘I don't really want to talk about that yet. Having it's a done deal. But if you can help us with somewhere to live, I'd be more grateful than you know.' She watched her mother bite back words then stand up.

‘I hope you know what you're getting yourself into.'

‘I hope so too.'

‘We'll discuss money next time. Here. This is all I've got on me at the moment.' She thrust something into Nikki's hand.

Glancing down, she saw some folded banknotes. ‘Thanks. It's been a bit . . . difficult.'

Nikki watched her mother drive away, glad the meeting was over. It had gone better than she'd expected, far better, but she was exhausted now. And word was out at school about the baby, so she still had to face her classmates. She wasn't looking forward to that, either.

Katie looked in the mirror one final time, fiddling with her hair, wondering if she should have had those blonde streaks put in. They masked the fact that her hair was a soft reddish brown, a colour she'd never quite liked because it was so different from her parents' mousy hair.

She didn't know if it was the same as her birth parents' hair. It must be – one of them, anyway. Did she get this strange reddish colour from her mother or her father?

Too late now to do anything about her appearance. She was meeting her birth father for lunch and if she didn't want to be late, she needed to get on her way. She'd chosen one of the gastropubs in the town centre, a place where she'd feel safe and where, she felt, no one would know her.