Page 33 of The Forgotten (Echoes from the Past #2)

THIRTY-ONE

Quinn left her case by the door, shrugged off her coat, and walked straight to the sink to fill the kettle.

She was desperate for a cup of tea after the long drive.

Quinn set the kettle on the hob and looked in the fridge.

The milk had gone bad, so she poured it down the sink.

She’d drink the tea black. Quinn opened the kitchen cupboard and had a quick rummage.

A couple of biscuits would have been nice, but the ones she found had gone stale, so she tossed them into the rubbish bin, annoyed with herself for not thinking ahead.

She should have asked Gabe to stop at the petrol station where she could have stocked up on milk, a packet of fresh biscuits, and a newspaper.

Gabe always read the news online, but at times, Quinn liked to sit down with a newspaper, the way her father used to do every day after work, a cup of tea at his elbow.

He used to read interesting bits out loud to her mum while she prepared supper.

Quinn’s stomach growled with hunger. She hadn’t eaten anything since the full English Phoebe had made for them before they left, and she needed something to pick on.

There was some pasta in the cupboard and a hunk of Parmesan cheese in the fridge.

That would have to do. Quinn set the water to boil for the pasta and poured herself a cup of tea.

She’d missed her little chapel. Not many people would enjoy living in a refurbished church, but Quinn loved its aura of serenity.

It enveloped her every time she came home, like a balm to the soul, and she welcomed its peace and drew strength from the very walls, where so many had prayed and shared their hopes and dreams. The house was blissfully quiet, but cold .

Quinn set aside her tea and took out a box of matches, lighting the kindling, which was already in the hearth.

The flame flickered and sputtered but eventually came to life, the logs slowly catching fire and the room filling with the pleasant smell of burning wood.

The chapel didn’t have central heating, so the fire was a necessity as well as a luxury.

The room began to slowly warm up. Quinn drained the pasta, dumped it into a bowl, and grated some cheese over it.

She took her meal to the sofa and got comfortable in front of the fire, debating if she should have a glass of wine to go with her meal but deciding against it.

She glanced at the clock. Gabe would be close to home by now.

She hoped he’d pick up a takeaway for himself, since his refrigerator was probably even emptier than hers.

Gabe got grumpy when he was hungry, she remembered with an affectionate smile.

Gabe had dropped her off at home on his way to London.

He would have stayed the night, but he had to be in London first thing in the morning to prepare for a departmental meeting that was scheduled for nine o’clock.

Quinn supposed she could have gone with him, but she’d meet him in London tomorrow instead.

She needed a day to herself, and Gabe understood.

Perhaps he needed a little time to himself as well to make sense of the past few weeks and come to terms with the drastic changes that rocked his well-ordered life to the core.

Leaving Emma with Phoebe and Graeme for a few days had been a good idea.

Emma took to her grandparents instantly, and the presence of Buster, who was as cute as a puppy could be, helped a great deal.

There was much to be done over the next few days, and Gabe would need Quinn’s help, which she was more than happy to offer.

Organizing the life of a little girl was like planning a trip to the moon as far as Gabe was concerned, and although he was usually very good with practicalities, in this case, he was completely out of his depth .

Quinn took her empty bowl to the sink and refreshed her tea before going back to the sofa where she curled her legs beneath her and leaned her head against the back of the sofa.

Despite the welcoming peace of home, her feelings were in turmoil, and the messages from Rhys and Dr. Scott hadn’t helped.

Rhys threatened to sue her for breach of contract if she didn’t present herself at his office on Friday, and Colin said that he had something to share with her and asked if they could meet at her earliest convenience.

Quinn had overnighted the plaster from Robert Chatham’s room to Dr. Scott, so it was possible that he had the results already.

Quinn wasn’t quite sure that she was ready to deal with the outcome.

Now that she’d had the dubious pleasure of meeting Robert Chatham, she realized that had Rhys proved to be her father, she would not have been devastated.

There was no excuse for what Rhys had done in his youth, but he’d regretted his actions and tried to atone for them in his own way.

Rhys would spend the rest of his life trying to make it up to her, and she would let him.

Robert Chatham, on the other hand, was a totally different entity.

He was a born leader, a man who could easily get others to do his bidding.

Quinn could see how Rhys would have been bullied into taking part.

He’d been insecure and sensitive, something his friends would have used against him.

Chatham probably did not regret a single thing he’d ever done, and even if he learned of the consequences of that night, he wouldn’t have cared.

There was a time when Quinn thought that not knowing who her parents were was the worst thing that could happen to a person, but now she knew better.

She was coming round to the idea of having Sylvia in her life, but if Chatham was her father, she’d never share that with him.

The man was hateful. Quinn could still feel his lips on her neck and his hand between her legs.

The memory of those moments made her shudder with disgust. Even if they weren’t related, his touch made her feel violated and threatened.

He was a brutal man, a bully who took what he wanted.

Of course, she’d intentionally put herself in his path and went to his room knowing full well what he expected, but a woman still had the prerogative to change her mind.

Chatham wouldn’t have allowed her that. He would have forced her, and not felt an ounce of remorse after the fact.

Quinn set aside her mug and practically ran toward the bathroom.

She’d taken numerous showers since that night, but she still felt dirty.

She turned on the taps and added some scented oil to the bathwater.

A nice soak would help her relax and perhaps wash away the memory of Chatham’s hands on her body.

She stripped off her clothes and climbed into the tub, resting her head against the porcelain as the hot water lapped over her breasts.

She’d hoped to feel peaceful but suddenly experienced a wave of loneliness.

She missed Gabe and Emma. She’d known the little girl for just over a week but found herself longing for the sound of her voice and the peal of her laughter.

Quinn smiled as she closed her eyes. Despite everything, they were becoming a family, and it hadn’t been as difficult as she might have expected.

She wondered if her own parents felt the same when she came into their lives.

Quinn extended her hand from the tub and reached for her phone.

She had an overwhelming desire to speak to her parents, to hear their voices and share her news.

Perhaps she would have told them sooner had they still been in England, but they’d retired to Spain several years ago, and although they spoke every day, the closeness they’d enjoyed her whole life had suffered.

Her parents had a new life, which they were enjoying immensely, and Quinn no longer felt the urgent need to share news with them as soon as something happened.

Perhaps that was a side effect of growing up, or maybe now she had more to hide.

It’d taken her months to tell her parents about Sylvia.

She meant to tell them right away, but somehow every time she heard her mother’s voice on the phone, she simply couldn’t bring herself to shatter her sense of security.

To tell her that the birth mother of whom she’d dreamed ever since she was a little girl had shown up on her doorstep and that her father was a rapist would not be something that would sit well with the Allenbys. And then, of course, there was Emma.

Quinn’s parents adored Gabe and had been thrilled to hear that they were planning a future together, but to suddenly announce that Gabe had a four-year-old child he’d known nothing about would not endear Gabe to them.

Her parents would raise all kinds of objections, mostly to protect Quinn, but also because deep down they still had a rather old-fashioned set of values.

Gabe would be forever tarnished in their eyes, and that was something Quinn wished to avoid.

But she’d waited long enough. Her parents had a right to know, come what may.

Quinn dialed her mum’s number and waited for her to answer.

As the phone rang, she smiled wryly, imagining that the apprehension she felt was something akin to waiting for the guillotine to drop.

The call went into voicemail and Quinn exhaled in relief. She was reprieved for one more day.