Chapter Eighteen
‘ I ’m doing it. This time I’m actually doing it.
’ Tilly walked up to the wrought-iron gate of the old Victorian terraced house and placed her hand on the latch, the metal warm against her skin.
As though it had burnt her, she quickly removed her hands and walked away again, her arms folded and her head down.
‘Tilly, that’s the fifth time you’ve done that.’ Isaac followed her and glanced around the empty street. ‘If anyone’s peering out from behind their net curtains, they’re going to think we’re casing the place.’
Covering her face with her hands, Tilly peeked through her fingers. ‘I don’t think I can do this.’
‘You can.’ Isaac cupped her elbows. ‘But we don’t have to knock at the door today. We can come back another time or post a letter through the door. Whatever you’re comfortable with.’
Letting her hands fall to her sides, she stubbed the toe of her trainer against the path. ‘I’m not comfortable with any of it. And what your dad said is just going round and round in my mind.’
‘What part of what he said?’ Isaac frowned.
‘The part about anyone being proud to have me as part of the family.’ She blew a loose strand of hair from her eyes.
‘Well, that’s true. You’re a great person, you...’
‘No, you can’t say that.’ She rubbed at her forehead. She was getting a headache. ‘You don’t know me. Not really.’
‘I know enough. I know you’re kind, interesting, and fun to be around.’ He scrunched up his nose. ‘And you don’t mow people down without stopping and seeing if they’re okay.’
She gave a short hollow laugh before she felt the sting behind her eyes.
‘I’m a mess. I have no home; my car is stuffed full of the possessions I could grab in the space of a few minutes before the bailiffs kicked me out on the street.
I don’t have a job and can’t get one because I don’t have enough relevant recent experience.
If it hadn’t been for Elsie taking pity on me, I’d have been sleeping on the streets. I...’
Drawing her in for a hug, Isaac wrapped his arms around her and tucked her head beneath his chin as the tears began to fall.
‘You’re wonderful. You’ve not got a job because you’ve been caring for your aunt for the past few years.
If that doesn’t shout what a wonderful person you are, then I don’t know what will.
You’re courageous. You travelled all the way to Penworth Bay to find out about your dad. You’re..’
Drawing back, she rested her hands on his chest. ‘Stop.’
‘You are.’
‘No, I’m not. I’m not any of those things. I’m scared. I’m petrified. I came here because I wanted to find out about my dad, yes, but I never even dreamed that I might meet my grandparents. And I’m scared.’
Placing the pads of his thumbs beneath her eyes, Isaac wiped away the tears. ‘I know you are. And anyone would be.’
‘Then what do I do?’ She searched his face. She wanted someone to tell her, to talk her through this process step by step.
‘Shall we come back another day?’ His voice was full of kindness as he leaned down and kissed her on the forehead.
She nodded, relief rushing through her. She could face this another day.
She’d gotten this far. She was close. She knew where they lived.
Or where they had probably lived, anyway.
Yes, another day. She looked across at the Victorian terrace again.
A potted rose was flowering beside the door, a woven willow heart hanging from the door knocker, and she suddenly knew what she had to do.
She didn’t want to wait after all. She wanted to find out who these people were.
She wanted to meet what family she had left. ‘No, I want to knock. Today.’
Stepping aside, Isaac nodded.
Now that she’d decided, she wanted to get this over and done with. She wasn’t quite sure what she was going to say to whoever opened the door. She guessed she’d just tell them the truth. Lifting the latch on the gate, she strode down the short path and knocked before she could back out of it.
‘There’s someone coming.’ Coming to a stop behind her, Isaac placed his hand on the small of her back.
Tilly held her breath as the door opened to reveal a blonde woman standing there with a toddler on her hip.
‘Hello, can I help you?’ The woman smiled as she pulled a lock of her blonde hair from her toddler’s grasp.
‘I...’ Tilly felt all the adrenaline seeping out of her; she could almost feel it leaving her body.
She hadn’t been expecting someone as young as the woman standing in front of her.
She’d been expecting her grandparents to answer, Lockie’s parents.
Still, she might be his sister, her aunt, maybe?
No, she was still too young. ‘I’m looking for someone who knew Lockie. ’
‘Lockie?’ Confusion swept across the woman’s face. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve never known a Lockie.’
‘Umm, he might not be called Lockie. That was his nickname. They called him that at the farm.’ Tilly was grateful she could still feel Isaac’s hand on the small of her back, she wasn’t sure she’d still be standing if she couldn’t feel him.
Her legs had turned to jelly. ‘He might be your brother? No, possibly your uncle?’
The woman jiggled her hip as the small boy began to grumble. ‘I don’t have an uncle.’
She didn’t have an uncle. Tilly glanced at the bronze number nailed to the wall beside the door. This was number 64. She could feel all her hopes begin to fade. ‘I was hoping to find his parents.’
‘I’m sorry. We only moved here two years ago. Just before this little one was born.’ The woman smoothed her toddler’s hair back from his eyes.
‘Do you have an address for the previous owners, please?’ Isaac asked as he rubbed his hand in small circles against Tilly’s back, letting her know he was here for her. ‘Did they give a forwarding address?’
‘Yes, they did, but the house was occupied by three young professionals. Younger than me.’ The woman frowned. ‘I’m sorry.’
Isaac glanced around the close. ‘Do you know if any of your neighbours are old enough to remember who lived here thirty-five years ago by any chance?’
‘Umm, no, I don’t think so. The street is pretty much filled with young families, I think.’
‘Okay, no problem. Thank you for your time.’ Isaac nodded as the woman turned and closed the door behind her. Placing his arm over Tilly’s shoulder, he led her back down the garden path and out onto the street.
‘That was a waste of time then.’ She pressed her forefinger and thumb against her temples. She could feel a migraine coming on. Not that she was surprised. She’d been expecting one after the events of the day so far.
‘No, it brought us a step closer. We now know we need to take a different direction.’
‘I suppose.’ She walked on, away from the house, until they were out of the close.
Pausing, she spun on the spot. What now?
Yes, they’d ruled out a lead, so to speak, but how on earth was she going to find out who this man had been now?
She couldn’t think straight. She held her palm against her chest, her heart pounding.
The pain in her head was all-consuming, and she could hardly breathe.
She needed space. She needed time. She forced herself to look at Isaac, who was standing, waiting patiently for her to continue walking. ‘I’m sorry. I think I need some space.’
Frowning, Isaac nodded. ‘Okay.’
Reaching out, she placed her hand on his arm and took a deep breath in, hoping to regulate herself once more. ‘Thank you for this. For coming with me. For everything. I just need some time to think, to process what’s just happened.’
This time when he nodded, he was more confident. ‘That’s okay. Take your time. We can figure out what our next step will be another time.’
‘Thank you.’ She looked at him. Part of her wanted nothing more than to throw herself in his arms, to feel his embrace, his warmth, but she knew she needed to take some time.
She knew she needed to let this all sink in.
Forcing herself to walk away, she hurried down the hill towards the ocean below.
With every step she took, she could feel her breathing decrease a little more, could feel her heartbeat slow.