Chapter 11
A few moments later they were both in the little kitchen of Duck Pond Cottage and Jade reached instinctively for the kettle.
‘Would you like a coffee? Or are you a tea person?’
‘Coffee. Thanks.’
‘Instant or I could make proper coffee?’ Oh, God, what a question to have to ask your own father.
‘Instant would be fine.’
Her hands were trembling as she filled up the kettle.
Cold water splashed over her fingers. But she got there eventually, using a tea towel to dry the kettle before she popped it back on its base.
Before she turned round again to look properly at the man who was still standing stiffly in her kitchen. Her father.
At close quarters she had the chance to study his face. In reception when she’d thought he was a farmer coming in to complain she’d seen only odd details. A tall man of maybe sixty-something with a roundish face. But now she drank in more.
He had a thin nose. But it was nothing like hers. Dark eyes. She might have got those from him. Her mother’s eyes had been blue. She had the feeling dark was the dominant gene.
She had never even seen a photo. Her mother, Elizabeth, had been so adamant that her father was a bastard, who’d left them when she was a babe in arms. That he wasn’t her father in any way other than a sperm donor.
Elizabeth had been so adamant that she wanted nothing more to do with him that the young Jade hadn’t dared to ask.
The older Jade had been pretty reticent too.
She and her mother had never had the kind of relationship where difficult conversations were possible.
And there had been no conversations that were more difficult in Jade’s childhood than the ones about her father.
In that moment, which felt like an hour, but which was probably actually only five or six seconds, Jade realised that Hector was doing the same thing. He was studying her face too. She dropped her gaze, embarrassed, and gestured to one of the high-backed kitchen chairs at the small table.
‘You can sit down if you like.’
‘Thanks.’ He pulled out the chair, its legs scraping loudly on the old laminate floor.
Or maybe it wasn’t that loud. Jade decided that every sense she had must be heightened through the shock, which was only just beginning to recede.
Her heart felt like it was pumping at almost twice its normal rate.
Was this how Finn had felt when he’d met his mother for the first time last year?
When they’d talked about it he’d told her that it had been nothing like he was expecting.
It hadn’t been like some shmaltzy television reunion.
There hadn’t been tears and hugging. Jade knew there were going to be no tears and hugging here, either.
She made two coffees and put them on the table in front of them and then pulled out the other chair and sat down opposite him. In an afterthought she pushed the sugar bowl towards him.
‘Thanks,’ he said, but he didn’t add sugar. They had that in common too then.
He coughed. ‘I don’t know where to start, Jade. In my head I never got past this bit.’
‘No.’ She met his gaze. ‘I’m not sure I even got as far as this bit. Was it you who returned my letter – with the red block capitals?’
‘Yes. I’m afraid it was.’
Jade felt her heart sink a little. She wanted to tell him how much that had hurt, but he was speaking again.
‘I’m really sorry about that. I regretted it from the moment I did it. And this is no excuse but your letter came at a really bad time. My father had just gone into hospital, having had a stroke, and I just couldn’t deal with anything else.’
‘I see.’ She wanted to berate him, but he looked so solemn and sad that she couldn’t. The compassion that was never far away when she saw someone in pain rose to her aid. ‘Was he OK? Did he recover?’
‘No, I’m afraid he died a few days later. He is – was – a fine man.’
Jade nodded. She had no clue what to say next. So she didn’t have a grandfather then. She was vaguely aware of registering this fact, but again he was the one who spoke first.
‘After we lost Dad I had to focus on my mother. She was devastated. Dad was fit for his age, he was eighty-two but he was still active. He had an allotment and was a keen gardener, so the stroke was unexpected. Mum’s always been the one with the health issues.
’ He broke off abruptly. ‘I’m so sorry. You don’t want to hear about all this. ’
‘I do,’ Jade said, realising it was true. After all, he wasn’t some randomer she’d just met, pouring out his life story. He was talking about her grandparents. Her blood relatives. This was her life story too, and she wanted to know it all.
‘I brought some photos to show you.’ For the first time since they’d met she realised he was carrying a small brown satchel, which he now opened.
He drew out an old-fashioned paper pack of photos and put them on the table in front of them, but nearer to him than to her.
‘You might not want to see them, of course. I’m sure you have a lot of questions. ’
He was spot on, there. She had dozens of questions. Maybe hundreds. How the hell did you fill in a lifetime of blank space? They’d all have to wait because the most burning one of all was still why?
Why did you disappear so completely from our lives?
And yet… Jade was also very aware she might not like the answer to that one. So she didn’t ask it. If he’d disappeared once, he could do it again. And while he was sitting here, large as life in her kitchen, she wanted to know as much as possible about him.
‘I’d really like to see the photos.’
He opened the pack and drew out a picture of an older couple. The man looked a little like him, but had more grey hair, and the woman had a much narrower face and very dark eyes and was smiling into the camera. ‘This is Charlotte and William – my mum and dad. And your grandparents.’
But he hadn’t needed to tell her that because Jade’s heart had given a little jolt when she’d looked into the celluloid woman’s eyes. The similarity between them was uncanny. Jade looked much more like Charlotte, her paternal grandmother, than she’d ever looked like her own mother.
She couldn’t stop staring, and as if aware of that fact Hector left the photo there on the table. ‘The resemblance is striking, isn’t it. I’ve got an older picture of her, hang on. This one’s when she was about thirty. Similar to you now.’
He pushed the photo across and Jade could only swallow. It was like looking at her older sister. She wanted to cry. She felt as though she’d spent an entire lifetime looking at a jigsaw puzzle of her family, which was only half complete.
The maternal part was done but the paternal side had no pieces. And now suddenly someone was giving her the missing pieces so she could see the whole picture.
Hector drew out some more photos. ‘This is Dad when he was younger.’ The photo he produced looked like a younger version of himself this time.
‘And this is my sister. So she’d be your Auntie Beatrice.
She’s married to Lenny. They have three kids, Ella, Liam and George.
’ His face crinkled with a slight frown. ‘So they’d be your cousins.’
‘Oh, God.’ Jade felt suddenly overwhelmed.
She stood up quickly. She now had a different burning question.
Did she, like Finn, have some half-siblings too?
Was he going to bring out a picture confirming she was part of a huge family she’d never met?
After all that time of being alone. Just her and Elizabeth with no blood relatives in sight, and the hotels that had been such a massive part of their life, she wasn’t sure if she could cope with the shock of a huge new family.
Hector cleared his throat. ‘I’m sorry. This must all be a big shock.’
Before either of them could say anything else, there was a noise outside, and then the back door opened, and almost as if she had conjured him up with her thoughts, Finn appeared.
‘Hi, honey. Someone said they thought you were up here.’ He glanced at Hector. ‘Sorry, I didn’t realise you had company. Good morning.’
Jade turned towards his voice. Then she glanced back at Hector. ‘This is Finn, my fiancé.’ She heard her words come out slightly shaky. ‘Finn, this is, er, Hector…’ She knew she didn’t need to say anything else.
Even across the few feet that separated them she saw Finn’s eyes widen in shock. He knew exactly who Hector was.