CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
I found Saul’s key – hidden in a hollow in a tree – and let myself into the cabin. It was eerily silent and I stumbled over a chair as I searched in the dark for the lamp that I knew was there somewhere.
Finally, a warm glow was lighting up the space and I breathed a sigh of relief as I dropped my overnight bag on the bedside rug and looked around me. I would leave the place exactly as I found it, I decided. Ada had done a good job, instilling good manners and politeness in me, which was part of a parent’s task in bringing up their child.
Except Ada wasn’t my mother.
With a heart that ached with loneliness, I fell back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. I was bone weary – too exhausted now even to think – and I felt my eyes closing. I hadn’t eaten or drunk anything since my tea at Zo?’s. I should at least get the bottle of water out of my bag and have a drink...
I kicked off my shoes and crawled under the cover fully clothed and with the light still on. Closing my eyes, I felt myself drifting off into blissful oblivion.
*****
When I first woke next morning, I’d forgotten the fact that my life had changed forever.
Rubbing my eyes, I stared sleepily around the walls of the cabin, thinking I needed to open the windows and let in some fresh air.
And then it all came crashing like a tidal wave into my head. Zo?’s shocking revelation. My manic drive back to Surrey, gripping the wheel for all those hours because my hands were trembling. Confronting Skye and seeing the horror on her face, knowing I’d discovered the truth. And driving to the cabin because I knew I could be alone there...
Although it had devastated me, I had to process this somehow – the fact that Skye was the one who’d given birth to me, not Ada. I’d instinctively chosen to face it alone, thinking I suppose that it would be best to be on my own in order to think clearly. But now, shivering in the cold light of day, I wondered if I’d made the right decision.
I wished Billy was with me. He’d make me laugh and see the situation in a more mellow light. Because right now, I feared that this shocking revelation would split my family apart, and that was unthinkable. I hated Ada and Skye for what they’d done. But at the same time, what would my life be like without my family?
Feeling a pulse nagging at my temple, I got out of bed, needing to do something. Anything that would take my mind off my predicament and halt this threat of a headache in its tracks. I’d go to the village and buy food and then I’d go for a swim in the river.
I’d turned off my phone so I could avoid Skye’s messages and calls, pleading with me to phone her so she could explain everything. Ada and Rori were also keen to know when I was coming back ‘from London’, which was where I’d told them in texts that I’d be. Ada kept saying it was all her fault and she needed to talk to me face to face, but I knew she was just trying to take the blame away from Skye. It was all very noble of her. But it wasn’t Ada who’d had a baby and then left her behind!
I was so distracted by these thoughts in the shop, I left my purse on the counter and had to run back for it.
‘Are you all right, love?’ The elderly woman behind the counter peered at me as she handed over the purse. ‘You look as white as a sheet.’
‘Oh, yes. I’m fine.’ I forced a smile. ‘Thank you.’ And I dashed out.
Back at the cabin, I made coffee and attempted to eat a pastry I’d bought but had to abandon it after a few bites because I felt sick. I’d go for a swim, I decided. Get some exercise. Then I’d phone Billy to let him know I was okay. I’d been really touched by the way he’d taken care of me the day before and I knew he’d be worrying about me. Jenna most definitely didn’t deserve him!
Later, feeling better after my swim, I sat in the sun with a book but was unable to concentrate for more than a few minutes at a time. My mind kept wandering off, my brain pulling me in different directions, so I gravitated towards the river again and stayed there for longer this time. There was something so therapeutic about water – the tinkling sound of the river as it rushed along and the feel of it lapping against my ears. The trees, majestic and tall, made me feel small and quite insignificant in such a big wide world, and it was strangely soothing.
The depth of the lies and the deception, spanning so many years, still took my breath away every time I thought about the lengths Ada and Skye had gone to, in order to keep their actions a secret. Ada must have taken Skye to Edinburgh on discovering she was pregnant. It was lucky for them that the drama academy there accepted Skye as a pupil, thus providing the perfect cover for their plan. Which was to pretend the baby was Ada’s.
I was nowhere near being able to forgive. But there were times, when I was floating on my back in the river under the dappled shade of the trees, that I felt the raw emotion and the bitterness drifting away on the ripples of the water. I had a family who loved me; so did it really matter who my mother was? Skye – while she might have spent my childhood living away from Guildford – clearly thought the world of me.
It was all so confusing.
But on the other hand, some things were starting to make sense; like how hard Skye had been on me at times, accusing me of having no goals or ambition. Ada was happy to let me live my life the way I wanted to, but Skye would tell me I wasn’t achieving my potential and urge me to be more proactive in reaching for my dreams. I’d always felt hurt that whatever small successes I had, they never seemed to be quite good enough for Skye. But thinking about it now – as I floated under the canopy of overhanging branches, the sun peeking through from time to time in a burst of dazzling light – I was beginning to understand. Skye wasn’t my sister or my friend. She was my parent, and good parents encouraged their children and tried to guide them.
That’s what Skye had been doing all my life.
And it was down to Skye’s encouragement and support (although irritating at times) that I’d decided to take my love of gardening to a different level and set up my own business.
To my surprise, I slept soundly that night. And when I woke the following day, I felt far less confused and fearful than I’d done the previous morning. I supposed I was acclimatising to the ‘new normal’.
On the other hand, the very idea of having to go back and face everyone at home made me feel panicky every time I thought about it. I needed more time.
I was in no hurry at all to leave this little paradise behind...