Page 42 of The Forgotten (Echoes from the Past #2)

FORTY

Quinn was just about to go down into the station when her mobile rang.

It was her cousin Jill, and Quinn felt a pang of guilt as she stared at the caller ID.

She hadn’t been in touch with Jill since sending her a text on New Year’s Day, wishing her a Happy New Year and announcing the engagement.

Jill was Quinn’s closest friend, and the only person besides her parents and Gabe in whom she confided, but lately Quinn just didn’t feel like talking.

After finding out about the night she’d been conceived, Quinn found herself turning inward, as if not telling anyone might retroactively change what happened.

She had told Jill, of course, but had no wish to keep returning to the subject, not until she was in possession of new facts.

Quinn had finally worked up the courage to tell her parents about Sylvia a few weeks ago, but they hadn’t been ready to discuss the news until they’d had some time to deal with the shock.

Quinn understood. This was the call they never expected to receive since Quinn had been found in a church pew when she was only a few days old and turned over to social services until an adoption could be arranged.

Since no one knew who Quinn’s birth parents might be, there was no danger of Quinn ever tracking them down.

An extraordinary chain of events led Sylvia to Quinn a few months back, and now Quinn knew, and understood, why Sylvia chose to give her up, but she still had to lay out the facts for her parents.

The second, possibly harder conversation they had about it had gone much as Quinn anticipated.

Susan and Roger Allenby loved her too much not to feel outraged on her behalf and eager to soothe the hurt, which allowed them to vent their anger but left Quinn feeling upset and unsettled.

She saw their point of view only too well.

They wished they could turn back the clock and prevent Sylvia from showing up on Quinn’s doorstep.

It was always better to cherish a dream than be faced with the reality, which was sometimes unexpected and cruel, and Sylvia’s version of events was just that.

“Darling, we will support you in whatever you decide to do,” Roger said when he managed to get a word in edgewise.

“Quinn, you don’t owe this woman anything,” her mother cut in. “She found you by chance. It’s not as if she was even searching for you. And to think that your father…” She sucked in her breath, still unable to accept the truth. “Please, let this go. Can’t we be enough?”

“Mum, you and Dad are enough, and always have been, but I need to know where I come from. I’m a historian. I spend my life uncovering people’s stories. How can I not know mine?”

“Sue, she needs to do this,” Roger Allenby said. “She’ll never rest until she finds out. And the sooner she does, the sooner she can put this behind her and move forward with her life. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Dad,” Quinn said, grateful for his understanding. He had always been the more open-minded of the two, although Quinn knew that her mother’s stubbornness was born of a fierce love for her and the desire to protect her from pain.

“Please tell me this woman will not be invited to the wedding,” Sue pleaded. “There will still be a wedding. Won’t there?”

“Yes, Mum,” Quinn said gently. “There will be a wedding, and I would like to invite Sylvia. She’s no threat to you. Just think of her as another guest.”

“As if I could. The thought of her there… ”

“Mum, Sylvia has two sons. I’m going to invite them as well.”

“Must you?”

“They are my half-brothers.”

Quinn heard the sharp intake of breath, followed by a loaded silence from her mother, who was no doubt rummaging in her pocket for a tissue.

She felt betrayed, which was exactly what Quinn had feared all along.

How could she explain to her parents what it meant to her to have siblings after all these years?

It was a dream come true, a fantasy come to life.

She’d prayed for siblings when she was little, asking God to bring her a brother or a sister in lieu of birthday or Christmas presents.

She wouldn’t mind sharing her parents with a baby, she’d assured God.

She would be good, and helpful, and loving.

It was her dearest wish to be a big sister.

But there was never a baby. Her mother was infertile, a word Quinn didn’t understand until much later, and the Allenbys didn’t have the financial resources to go through another adoption.

Quinn was destined to be an only child. She had Jill; that was true.

Jill was her honorary sister and closest friend, but it wasn’t the same, since they weren’t biologically connected in any way.

“We look forward to meeting them. Don’t we, Sue?

” Roger said, his tone gentle but full of warning.

He rarely got between Quinn and Susan when they disagreed, but he realized that this situation would require serious diplomatic negotiation, especially once the wedding drew nearer.

“Now, tell us about Emma,” Roger invited.

Quinn ignored the sniffle that came over the line.

Her mother hadn’t taken the news well, but to her, Gabe having a child was still the lesser of two evils.

Of course, that hadn’t stopped her from expressing her opinion about men who indulged in casual sex with women they barely knew and didn’t prevent her from voicing her disappointment with her future son-in-law, who would have to work very hard to get back into her good graces.

“Lord only knows how many more children there might be,” Susan said dramatically. “I hope you know what you’re getting into, Quinn.”

“Mum, Gabe is hardly a serial lothario who’s had a string of meaningless affairs. I trust him.”

“So you say,” Susan countered. “You trusted Luke as well. And look how that turned out.”

Quinn groaned. “Mum, I don’t want to talk about Luke.”

“Neither do I,” Roger said firmly. “You were about to tell us about Emma.”

“Oh, she’s lovely, Dad. She’s so sweet and funny, and she looks just like Gabe.”

“Hmm,” her mother interjected, still sniffling.

“She’s lucky that she will have you for a mum,” Roger said. “How’s Gabe handling fatherhood?”

“Like most new fathers. He alternates between joy and panic, with panic prevailing,” Quinn joked.

“To think that he never even knew about her,” Susan said, joining the conversation again. “I can understand a woman depriving her child of a father because he’s a danger to her, but Gabe was hardly a threat. She must have been very selfish, this Jenna,” Susan added.

“Let’s not speak ill of the dead, Sue,” Roger suggested. “Gabe’s a good man, Quinn. Please, don’t hold this against him. He might not have planned this, but life has its own plan and he’s taking responsibility, which is all that matters. So many men wouldn’t.”

“Gabe is so in love with his child, Dad. He grieves the time he missed with her, but he will be the best father Emma could have wished for.”

“I’ve no doubt he will be,” Roger agreed.

“So, when can we meet our granddaughter?” Sue asked, her voice no longer laced with the bitterness of a few moments ago. Quinn smiled. At least this portion of her news didn’t cause a nuclear meltdown, at least not a full-blown one.

“As soon as you return to England. I’d like your help planning the wedding, Mum.”

“Try and stop me. You are my only daughter, and I will be a mumzilla of gigantic proportions.”

Quinn chuckled. Clearly, someone had been watching American reality programs.

“Looking forward to it. You will have to fight Phoebe for the privilege. She’s already making plans. You two can go head-to-head,” Quinn joked.

“Will Emma be a flower girl?” Sue asked. “Oh, she will look lovely walking down the aisle with her basket of petals.”

“Emma would like to be a bridesmaid,” Quinn replied. “She was quite clear. She said that being flower girls is for babies.”

“Clever girl,” Roger said. “I like her already.”

“Have you set a date?” Sue asked, moving on to practicalities .

“It’ll be this summer, but we don’t have an actual date yet. We have yet to decide where we want the wedding to be.”

“I thought it’d be in London. And we’ll have the reception at a nice hotel,” Sue said, adopting her newly acquired mumzilla voice. “Quinn, you must set a date and book something as soon as possible. All the best places get booked years in advance.”

“Gabe’s parents have a beautiful garden. I thought it might be nice to put up a tent and have a reception there after we get married at the local church.”

“Darling, this is England we are talking about,” her mother retorted. “Chances are it will rain.”

“Sue, don’t you have your book club meeting to get to?” Roger asked. Quinn could hear the amusement in his voice.

“Hmm? What? Oh, yes. Sorry. We’ll talk about this later.”

“I’ve no doubt we will,” Quinn replied as her mother hung up her extension.

“I have to go too, Dad. Nice save, by the way. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Anytime, love.”

Quinn pressed the answer button on her mobile. She really wasn’t in the mood to talk and briefly considered sending the call to voicemail, but guilt won out. “Jill, hi.”

“Hello,” Jill replied. Quinn could hear the hurt in her voice and tried to diffuse the awkwardness by jumping right in .

“I’m sorry. I know I haven’t called, but something’s come up.” Quinn inwardly cringed at her choice of words. In the past, had something come up, she would have called Jill right away to discuss the situation, but things had changed, at least for her.

“Can you come over?” Jill asked. Her voice sounded small and desperate. “I know you must be very busy, but I need someone to talk to.”

“Are you all right?”

“I’ve been better,” Jill replied. “Oh, and if it’s not too much trouble, bring a bottle of Malbec. Or two.”

“I’m on my way.”