Page 9 of The Forgotten (Echoes from the Past #2)

EIGHT

London, England

Quinn looked up from her book on medieval Dunwich when she heard the scrape of the key in the lock, surprised that Gabe was back so early.

It was just past noon, and he rarely got home before six.

She cast her mind over the contents of the fridge.

He’d be hungry. Perhaps she could make him some pasta or a salad.

She’d been planning to pick up some chops from the butcher’s down the street but thought she had a few hours to spend on research before it was time to prepare dinner.

“You’re home early,” she called out. “Would you like…?” The rest of the question died on Quinn’s lips when she noted Gabe’s appearance.

He looked strangely pale, despite the biting cold outside, and his gaze wasn’t focused on anything in particular.

Quinn went to kiss him but drew back when she smelled the liquor on his breath.

“Gabe, have you been drinking?”

Gabe enjoyed the occasional pint or a glass of wine, but he wasn’t a serious drinker, not like some who started as soon as the sun was over the yardarm.

Gabe was a social drinker who always stopped before he reached his limit.

Quinn had seen him tipsy a few times, in his younger days, but never stinking drunk, as he appeared to be at that moment.

“Yes, I have,” Gabe replied as he collapsed into a wing chair.

“And I’d like to keep drinking, except that I ran out of whisky.

” He pulled an empty bottle out of his pocket and looked at it in confusion, almost as if he expected more whisky to materialize out of thin air.

He shrugged in resignation and set the bottle on the floor before leaning against the back of the sofa and closing his eyes against the bright light streaming through the window.

“Gabe, what’s wrong? Is it your parents?” Quinn cried. She couldn’t think of anything else that would send Gabe into such a tailspin. His parents were elderly. Things happened. Gabe shook his head but didn’t open his eyes. He didn’t want to look at her.

“Mum and Dad are well, as far as I know,” he finally replied, slurring his words ever so slightly.

“Did you get sacked?” Quinn tried again. Losing his job would upset Gabe terribly, but she knew of absolutely no reason why that should happen. Gabe was good at what he did and had the respect of colleagues and students alike.

“Not yet,” Gabe muttered, his mouth curling into a mirthless smile. He finally opened his eyes but refused to make eye contact, staring off into the distance instead.

“Then what is it? What’s happened?” she pleaded, now really worried.

Gabe was the calmest, most rational person she knew.

Gabe didn’t drink in the morning or stare into space as if he couldn’t quite remember where he was supposed to be.

Quinn couldn’t begin to imagine what might have driven him to this type of a breakdown.

“I’m not sure where to start,” Gabe mumbled.

“At the beginning,” Quinn retorted. “But first, you will have some coffee.” She raced into the kitchen and turned on the espresso machine, making Gabe a double espresso. He accepted the cup gratefully, took a sip, and grimaced with distaste.

“You could have added some sugar,” he complained.

“Never mind the sugar. Talk.”

Gabe finally looked at her, his eyes clouded with emotions she couldn’t decipher. He looked devastated, but at the same time there was a light in his gaze, and a faraway dreamy look that wasn’t completely alcohol infused.

“You know how the institute hosts guest speakers every year,” he began.

“Yes.” What did guest speakers have to do with this? Quinn wondered, but remained silent as she waited for him to continue.

“Five years ago, we had an expert on carbon-14 dating give several lectures. She was a lovely woman named Jenna McAllister, from St. Andrew’s.

Her lectures were very well received.” Gabe paused, his gaze sliding toward the window where a grayish-white London sky was visible through the sheer curtains.

“Go on.”

“Jenna had recently lost her husband of twenty years. Brain tumor. She was so sad, and so desperate to find something to smile about. I offered to show her around London, since she hadn’t been in nearly a decade and wanted to see the sights.”

“Did you sleep with her?” Quinn asked, finally understanding where this was going.

“She invited me back to her hotel room for a glass of wine, and I just couldn’t say no. I liked her, mind, but she was much older than the women I normally found attractive, but I couldn’t bear to reject her.”

“So, you had pity sex with a woman old enough to be your mother?” Quinn asked. She tried not to sound judgmental but didn’t do a very good job of disguising the irritation in her voice.

“Hardly old enough to be my mother. She was forty-six.”

Quinn took a deep breath to calm her rising annoyance.

Why was he telling her this? He’d had several relationships over the past eight years while she’d been involved with Luke, who’d also been involved in several relationships behind her back.

It was all ancient history as far as she was concerned.

Quinn never expected Gabe not to have a past, so why this sudden confession?

Quinn bolted out of her chair as understanding dawned.

“Oh my God. She’s back in town, and you slept with her!” she cried, rounding on him. “That’s it, isn’t it?” Even as the words left her mouth, she was sorry. Gabe would never do such a thing. He was loyal and honest, not a complete wanker like Luke.

Gabe shook his head, his expression one of utter astonishment. Quinn’s accusation had done what the espresso failed to do, and he was now fully alert. “You really think I’d do that?”

“No. I’m sorry, Gabe. I just don’t understand why you’re telling me this.”

“The attorney from Scotland who represents Dr. McAllister called. Jenna and her mother died in a car crash on New Year’s Eve.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” Quinn mumbled, stunned by the news. She certainly hadn’t expected that. But why would this woman’s attorney be ringing Gabe ?

“Did she leave you something in her will?”

“You could say that,” Gabe muttered. He looked like he was going to be sick.

“Out with it!” Quinn cried, unable to bear the suspense any longer.

“Quinn, Jenna had a four-year-old daughter. She named me as the father and stipulated that the child should live with me should anything happen to her. She had no other family besides her mother. Quinn, I never knew,” Gabe exclaimed.

“I never saw her after that weekend. She sent me a holiday card every year, but she never mentioned a child. The lawyer said that she was afraid I might sue her for custody or visitation rights, and with her being in Scotland, she preferred to retain full control. She never had any children with her husband, which was something she regretted bitterly. This child was a gift she never expected.”

Quinn sank back into her chair, the meaning of Gabe’s words finally sinking in. “You have a daughter.”

“Yes, I do. Quinn, I’m so angry with Jenna for keeping the child a secret, and heartbroken that she is dead.

And so overwhelmed with the desire to see my baby that I can barely think straight.

I’m leaving for Scotland in the morning.

I completely understand if you wish to call off our engagement,” he added miserably.

“ You are leaving for Scotland?” Quinn echoed. “No, my darling; we are leaving for Scotland. Do you really think that I would not support you in this and that I would see a child as an impediment to our marriage? Seriously, Gabe!”

Gabe walked over and put his arms around Quinn, burying his face in her neck. “I didn’t dare hope that you’d forgive me. I know it’s a lot to ask, but now that I know, I want to be her father more than anything in the world.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Quinn replied, kissing Gabe’s temple and trying not to breathe in the alcoholic fumes that came off him in waves. “We will go to Scotland and fetch this little girl, and then we will get married and be a proper family. Got it?” she asked with mock severity.

“Yes,” Gabe mumbled into her hair.

“Right. Now, go lie down for a bit; you look like you need it.”

“Won’t you lie down with me?” Gabe asked, smiling sheepishly. He looked so relieved that Quinn instantly regretted her earlier reaction. Poor man , she thought, he must have been really worried about telling me .

“Well, if I must, I must,” Quinn replied with a smile, “but don’t expect me to kiss you. You reek of booze.”

“Sorry,” Gabe mumbled. “I sort of came apart at the seams for a moment there.”

“Pull yourself together. You are about to take on a four-year-old. This was the first meltdown of many, and she might have some as well.”

Gabe took Quinn by the hand and pulled her toward the bedroom, but Quinn stopped, realizing that she had yet to ask a vital question.

“Gabe, what’s her name?”

“Emma,” he said, savoring the name on his tongue. “Emma. Emma Jane McAllister Russell. It has a nice ring to it.”