29. Thirty years ago
Chapter 29
Thirty years ago
Cynthia
C ynthia hurried along the quay on the mainland, her flat shoes aiding her speed to move away from the passengers on the ferry.
The boat had docked earlier than planned.
Her paranoia escalated with each passing year she hadn’t done her father’s bidding.
She had one job. Get rid of Imelda, but she couldn’t go any further than play a few tricks to make her miserable. If only Imelda didn’t spend so much time with her parents, Cynthia’s plan would work enough to appease her father, but he was getting impatient.
Cynthia only had a handful of hours before boarding the boat back to Copper Island. The temptation to break into a run caused her to stumble over the uneven ground. Managing to right herself, she carried on to the taxi rank and jumped in the first available car.
“Sally’s Guest House, please,” Cynthia said to the driver.
She turned in the back seat to look out the window to see if anyone was watching the car. The taxi she was in was the only one at the rank. Cynthia had watched too many movies where someone jumped in the cab behind and instructed the driver to follow her car.
“Are you okay?” the driver asked, looking at her in the rearview mirror.
“Yes. Thank you. I was checking that the boat wouldn’t set sail straight away. I need to be back on the ship before it sails.
“Plenty of time. I can come back and collect you if you want?”
“Yes, that would be great, thank you. I can pay you for both fares when I get out, and we can arrange a time.”
The driver nodded to her, and she risked another glance behind her. There wasn’t another car on that stretch of road.
She arrived at Sally’s Guest House and paid the driver, letting him know when she needed him to return. Once he had driven away and was nowhere in sight, Cynthia turned her back on the guest house. She walked along the quiet road overlooking the sea for a quarter of a mile until she saw two people sitting on a bench. That was when Cynthia ran. Holding onto her crossbody handbag, she called out and sprinted towards them.
Jonathan looked around first, swiftly followed by Benny, her eleven-year-old son.
“Mummy,” Benny called out and ran towards her.
Cynthia crouched, with one knee in the grass and her arms open wide. She welcomed the hug her son gave her. Benny fell to his knees, wrapped his skinny arms around her neck, and held on tight as she rose to stand. He was taller than her already, taking after Jonathan. They looked so alike.
“You’re getting so tall,” Cynthia said.
“I’m the tallest in my class.”
“And the smartest,” Jonathan said, approaching.
Cynthia looked up at Jonathan and grinned. “Hello, my love,” she said and accepted his kiss.
“Hello, Darling.”
“I don’t have long until I have to go back. Imelda is about to give birth, so staying longer this time will raise too much suspicion.”
“That’s okay. We’ll have the holiday together, and that’s only a few months away.”
“I can’t wait.”
The three walked arm in arm down the steep slope to the pebbly beach. Benny raced off to examine the rock pools while Cynthia and Jonathan sauntered behind. She wished she could bring them to Copper Island. Benny would love it there.
“We can marry now. Surely this is the time?” Cynthia said as she kept her eyes on Benny. “Our son is growing up so fast, and he would have a great life on Copper Island. Imelda and Freddie are about to have their fourth child.”
“Cyn, we’ve talked about this. So long as your father is alive, I am not allowed back on Copper Island, and you promised me you wouldn’t take Benny away from me. He has a good life at the boarding school. No one suspects you’re his mother. We came up with a solid story. So long as no one snoops looking for the birth certificate, we’re fine.”
“My father is seventy-three,” she said, slapping her hands to her sides in frustration.
Jonathan took her hands and entwined their fingers.
“Does your father approve?”
“My father will never approve,” Cynthia grumbled.
“Then we will never marry.”
Cynthia’s heart broke every time he said those words. He was matter-of-fact, with no emotion about the subject.
“But...”
“You knew who I was from the very beginning, Cynthia. Don’t try to change me.”
Cynthia knew not to argue. The money she got from her father to terrorise Imelda paid for her trips overseas and everything Benny needed. They’d concocted a smoke-and-mirrors story about Jonathan adopting his cousin’s son when the mother died of cancer. There was no father, and Jonathan agreed to take him in. For the story to be believable, they had no choice in what to name their child, as Jonathan’s cousin had a child about Benny’s age, but they lived in Australia. So Benny’s birth certificate said, Benjamin Cranford. Her father said he constantly looked to see if Cynthia was married but wasn’t looking at births. Jonathan’s cousin’s son was born in Australia, so he wouldn’t find the connection unless her father was properly snooping.
If people were looking, it wouldn’t take a genius to work it all out. Still, thankfully, her father had other Turner business to worry about.
They’d got away with it.
Or she thought she did.
It hadn’t gone unnoticed that her father kept close tabs on where she went when she left Turner Hall. The trip to see her son and Jonathan wasn’t scheduled, and she’d taken advantage of her father being off-island for a couple of days while Freddie was back for the birth of their fourth child.
Cynthia had agreed that Jonathan would raise their child, but Benny was sworn to secrecy. If Benny ever told anyone Cynthia was his mother, he would never see her again. Benny had accepted this deal from a young age and never questioned it or acted out. Soon after Benny’s birth, Cynthia returned to Turner Hall and stayed there for two years without seeing Benny. It was the hardest two years of her life, but she had to keep her distance from her child to make the story stick in everyone’s eyes. From then on, she saw him every six weeks when he wasn’t in school. Jonathan’s boarding school allowed Benny to board with the other pupils and had his schooling like the rest.
But Jonathan never rose higher from a school teacher. He was never promoted in the last twenty years. In some ways, Jonathan said he was thankful. He could go home on time and have all his holidays to himself. If Jonathan had been promoted, he would’ve had to give up his free time, and then Cynthia wouldn’t be able to meet them during the school holidays.
“I’m sorry, Cyn,” Jonathan said, slowing his pace.
He stopped and spun around to kiss Cynthia. It wasn’t beach-appropriate, but she let him kiss her deeply and passionately. Unfortunately, they had a few hours together and little time to get naked. So the kiss would have to do.
“It’s okay. I’m starting to think we’ll never get married, and you both will never live on Copper Island.”
Jonathan softly kissed her again and grabbed her backside to bring her flush with his body. He was hard for her, still, after all these years.
“We can’t,” Cynthia said.
“Sure we can. We managed it last time,” Jonathan said, nipping at her lips with his teeth.
It was like a direct link to her clit when he bit her bottom lip.
“I wish I’d brought Jenny,” Cynthia muttered over his mouth.
“You didn’t, and you didn’t last time either, and we managed. That’s why we’re meeting here. Let’s head back up to the guest house and put Benny in the living room, and we can nip upstairs.”
Cynthia was in two minds. First, she was still smarting from Jonathan, not even contemplating marrying her and her need to feel him inside her.
“I don’t see Benny very often. It would be a shame to leave him just for sex. We’ll have the holiday to spend every night together.”
Cynthia felt spiteful, but if he was withholding marriage, she could withhold his orgasm.
Jonathan sighed heavily and took her hand to lead them over to where Benny had made friends with a couple of kids his age. Cynthia and Jonathan perched on the rocks and cuddled while they watched their son laughing and splashing in the water.
When they reached the guest house a couple of hours later, Cynthia was tearing up that she would be leaving Benny so soon. They slipped into the three-storey house and walked down the hallway.
“Ah, Benny, there you are,” Sally, the guest house owner, greeted them. “Do you fancy batch-testing some pies?”
Benny whipped his head around to his parents, and Cynthia let out a laugh. Benny had the best puppy dog eyes, and she would never deny him anything when he used them on her.
“All right, but try not to spoil your dinner,” Cynthia said.
Benny dashed down the back corridor to where Sally stood with an apron around her waist. Once they were out of sight, Jonathan grabbed Cynthia’s hand and dragged her up the stairs to his room.
“Jonathan, what are you doing?”
“I’m not letting you go until I’ve felt you, tasted you and made you moan out my name,” he said.
Cynthia hadn’t put up a fight as she trotted after him and giggled as he pulled her into the room.
“The bed squeaks, so we’ll need to be inventive and use the floor,” Jonathan said.
Jonathan had already removed his shirt and trousers and thrown them on the bed. Cynthia found her hands betraying her spiteful brain, looping her handbag off her body and tossing it on the chair. Next came her dress. She unbuttoned the large fastenings down the middle of her dress and shook it off like it was an oversized shirt. She kicked off her shoes, and then Jonathan lifted her up, guided her legs to wrap around his waist, and lowered them to the floor.
“This is going to be quick, but I’ll get you there first,” Jonathan said between kissing her mouth and collarbone.
He pushed his boxers to get his cock free and then pushed her knickers to the side. When Cynthia slid down and rested on his thighs, she exhaled quietly through her nose, controlling the urge to cry out at the delicious intrusion. Jonathan was trying to work out how to get to her clit as her panties were in the way.
“I’ll do it. Just keep kissing me,” Cynthia whispered.
As his tongue delved into her mouth, her fingers found her clit, and she swirled as she lifted and dropped on his erection. It didn’t take long for either of them to come, but they did it silently, mouths fused.
For the first time, Cynthia didn’t feel the effects drift further than her pelvis. Her orgasms with Jonathan were usually whole-body experiences. This time felt different, and she couldn’t help thinking that Jonathan didn’t believe she was worth fighting for. Worth standing up to her father. She shuffled to the side and put her underwear back in place. Jonathan breathed deeply, still prone on the floor. His eyes were closed with a sweet smile.
Jonathan had a good time, and that was all that mattered. She was sure she had put her distant feeling down to the situation. As soon as they were on holiday, things would be different. She hurriedly put her shirt dress back on and donned her handbag. Jonathan was slower at dressing, but when he was, he pulled her close and kissed her senselessly. She felt the kiss down to her toes but still wanted to cry that she had to run off and look over her shoulder.
“I have to go. I don’t want the cabbie knocking on the door.”
“Okay. Let’s go down and say goodbye to Benny, and then you can wait for the taxi outside. We’ll wait inside, stand in the living room window, and wave you off.”
She didn’t know what had come over her this time, but she burst into tears.
“Hey, Cyn, come here,” he said.
She was already in his arms but burrowed closer into his embrace. Cynthia was so sad, but their meet-ups hadn’t been detected in two decades, and she wasn’t about to risk it now. They had the child they’d longed for. If her father found out, she’d never see either of them again. She didn’t doubt her father would carry out his threat to make Jonathan disappear permanently. She couldn’t publicly claim Benny because they’d made it look like he was his cousin’s child.
So many elaborate lies to keep what little time she had.
Once the tears stopped, she took a tissue out of her handbag, let Jonathan blot her face, and kissed her quickly.
“Let’s go before Benny eats all the pies,” Jonathan said and grinned.
They’d only been gone twenty minutes, but their son languished back in the spindle chair like he’d eaten a roast dinner rubbing his belly.
“Hi, Mum, these pies are so good. You should have some,” he said.
“Maybe another time. Come and give me a hug,” Cynthia said with a watery smile.
“Is it time already?” he whined.
“Yeah, but I’ll see you soon, Benny.”
Her son stood and staggered over with his fake pie drunkenness and cuddled into her. It wouldn’t be too long before he wouldn’t want to be seen showing his mum affection, so she took them while he offered.
“I’ll see you in six weeks,” she whispered into his hair and kissed his head.
“See you at the end of term. Where are we going this time?”
“It’s a surprise,” she said.
It was always a surprise. To Cynthia, too, as they had to plan to get away last minute depending on what lies she could spin at Turner Hall. So far, Imelda and Freddie didn’t pay her much attention unless Freddie threatened her with her meanness to his wife. She didn’t know when her luck would run out.
“I’ll walk you to the door,” Jonathan said to Cynthia. “Benny, go into the living room and stand by the curtains to watch your mum head off.”
“Okay,” he chirped and scuttled off.
Jonathan walked her down the hall and stopped behind the closed front door, taking her into his arms again.
“I love you, Cyn. I’m sorry we can’t be together always, but this is the best we can hope for until your father accepts me.”
Cynthia knew that would never happen.
“I love you too. I’ll see you soon,” Cynthia said with tears in her eyes.
At that moment, a car came to a stop outside.
“I better go,” she said, and kissed him quickly.
Then she was out the door and trotting down the steps to the waiting cabbie. She climbed in the back and waved at the living room window, where she knew they were watching.
“Ready?” the cabbie asked.
“Yes, let’s go.”
The taxi driver glanced at her in the rearview mirror and frowned.
“Are you okay? I seem to ask you that a lot.”
Cynthia dropped her head and laughed.
“I’m fine.”
“What brings you to Sally’s place?”
“A job interview,” she said, plucking the reason out of the half dozen they’d devised over the years.
“Oh, I didn’t know she was hiring?”
“She’s not. It’s for a job in London, and the recruiter came here to interview me rather than drag me up to London.”
The taxi driver grinned and raised his eyebrows. “Wow, they must really want you, to make that effort.”
“I’ll have to wait and see.”
“You seem upset,” he commented.
“It was a stressful interview. I’d never been interviewed before, so when it was over, I rushed to the bathroom and burst into tears. Silly, really.”
“Ah, not really. It’s a new experience for you,” he said happily, like it was no big deal.
There had been so many times she’d spun that lie it was like it was real. All the taxi drivers seemed to read from the same script, and they all believed her.
“Okay, we’re here,” he said, pulling up to the taxi rank.
“Thanks for coming back for me.”
“Sure, wouldn’t dream of running off with your money.”
Cynthia smiled, got out of the car, and looked down the quayside, relieved that the boat was there to take her back.
Cynthia arrived back at Turner Hall to find Imelda pacing the marble foyer with a hand supporting her back. She was puffing out her cheeks.
“Where is everyone?” Cynthia asked.
“Freddie has gone to get the doctor. Bailey is herding the staff to prepare a room downstairs as I can’t get upstairs with these contractions and won’t make it to the doctor’s surgery.”
“All right, let’s get you comfortable. I remember how painful this bit is,” Cynthia said.
She moved to where Imelda stood, seemingly holding her breath as she’d stopped puffing out her cheeks.
“What’s the matter?” Cynthia asked.
“You remember what this is like?”
Just then, before Cynthia could come up with a lie to cover what she’d just revealed, another contraction caused Imelda’s legs to buckle. From two different doors, people came through.
“What are you doing?” Freddie bellowed at her.
“I’m helping her,” Cynthia said, alarmed at the accusation. “I can’t be held responsible for the contractions crippling Imelda.”
Freddie gave her a stare that said he felt differently. She’d long since despised her brother for the freedom he had, but that didn’t mean she would hurt a pregnant woman.
Cynthia stood back while Freddie, the doctor, and several other staff helped Imelda into one of the morning rooms.
Jennifer came down the stairs at a swift pace and hurtled towards where Cynthia stood. She was too dazed to hear what her lifelong friend was saying. It wasn’t until she felt a pinch on the fleshy part of her elbow that she snapped out of the horror of what she’d said.
“What’s wrong?” Jennifer asked.
“I’ve made a grave error,” Cynthia said.
“Can we fix it?”
“I think the only way I’m going to fix this is if Imelda leaves Copper Island.”
“That’s what your father wants.”
“It’s now what I want too. Did you check the warehouse?”
“Yes. I can’t find the tin anywhere. Your father must have had the men discard anything they thought wasn’t worth boxing. He’s on a mission to pack away your mother’s and his father’s things, so they are out of sight.”
“Unless he went there himself and found it,” Cynthia said.
“But I have the key. He can’t get into it.”
“I’m sure a sledgehammer would do the job. He’ll bide his time if he has the tin. My father will wait for the best opportunity to humiliate me.”
“There is nothing to be ashamed about, Cyn,” Jennifer said, stroking her arm.
“Jonathan still won’t marry me without Father’s blessing. If he lives as long as his father, I’ll be doomed to love a man I can’t spend my life with and be separated from my only child.”
“We’ll find a way,” Jennifer assured her.
Cynthia resisted scoffing at her friend’s statement. Jennifer had been good to her, stuck by her through all the drama of working for the Turners. She wasn’t about to alienate her now.
Jennifer was the only person on her side.
Not even Jonathan wanted to be by her side.