Page 46 of The Hidden Daughter (The Lost Daughters #7)

They both stood a moment longer, until her grandmother patted her hand. ‘Come through to see the men. Your father has something for you.’

Something for me? She gave her grandma a quizzical look but only received a shrug in response. But when they walked through to the living room, she saw that there was a bottle of French champagne and four glasses waiting, and she hadn’t a clue what they were there for.

‘What are we celebrating?’ she asked, glancing at Harrison. ‘Have I forgotten someone’s birthday?’

‘We’re celebrating you,’ her father said as he eased the top off the bottle. ‘I’ve missed out on years of celebrations with you, so this is a start for all the birthdays and all the career milestones.’

Charlotte found herself with tears in her eyes then, and a lump in her throat that was almost impossible to swallow past. But she accepted the glass from her father when he passed it, wishing she could tell him how much it meant to her, but unable to get the words out.

‘To my Lotte,’ he said. ‘For taking the culinary world by storm, and for never being afraid to follow her dreams. I’m so, so proud of you.’

‘To Lotte,’ her grandmother and Harrison chimed in, holding up their glasses in unison.

She laughed and then cried, forcing herself to take a sip even as it all felt almost too much. One thing she’d never liked was being the centre of attention.

‘I know I should have said it sooner, but I really am so proud of you,’ her father said from across the room, his voice cracking. ‘And if your mother was still here, I’m sure she would have been very proud of you, too.’

‘Thank you,’ she whispered, grateful that he’d mentioned her mother. There had been such a big void in her life when her mother had left, and she only wished they’d had the chance to reconnect before her passing.

‘Now,’ her grandmother said, as Charlotte joined Harrison on the sofa. His hand fell to her thigh, and she nestled against him. ‘I want to know what your plans are. Will you two lovebirds be staying here, or will we have to come and visit you in London?’

Charlotte glanced at Harrison. ‘Well, I’ve actually decided to stay on at the hotel for at least another year. I feel like I’ve found the place I want to be, and I’m grateful to have been offered a permanent position.’

‘I was going to wait until tomorrow to share this, but I’ve actually been offered a new project,’ Harrison said.

‘What? Why didn’t you tell me!’ Charlotte swatted at him playfully. ‘What is it? Where will you be working? Is it another hotel?’

His smile was smug. ‘Actually, it’s right here in Oslo, which is why I was going to tell you in private. In case you’d rather I turn it down and find another project in London.’

‘Here? You’ve been offered a job here?’ she repeated. She’d been wrestling all day with her decision to stay in Oslo, knowing in her heart that she couldn’t turn down such an incredible job for Harrison, but hoping desperately that they could find a way around long-distance.

‘You don’t mind?’

She shook her head, unable to hide her smile. ‘Mind? No, Harrison, I most definitely don’t mind!’

‘That’s something else to celebrate then,’ her father said. ‘Congratulations to you both!’

Harrison looked at her and she bit down on her bottom lip, hardly able to believe how well everything had worked out. She couldn’t have planned it better if she’d tried.

‘You didn’t tell us what the project was,’ Charlotte’s grandmother said. ‘Do we have another new hotel being planned for the city?’

‘No, I’ll be designing a new art gallery here,’ he said. ‘It’s a refurbishment rather than a new build, but the project sounds fantastic. Not to mention it keeps me closer to Charlotte.’

‘When would you start?’ she asked.

‘That’s the thing. I thought for once that I might take a month off, enjoy being a tourist here for a bit before launching into the new job. My only problem is that I’d rather not travel alone.’

‘Harrison, if that was a hint it wasn’t a very subtle one.’

‘I was actually thinking you could take a week off and we could play tourist together,’ he said, his hand covering hers. ‘What do you say? Do you think Daniel will give you some time off?’

‘I think if his favourite architect asked him, he might.’

They clinked champagne glasses again and sat back on the sofa together, as her father talked about his work and her grandmother entertained them with tales of her recent cards evening with friends. But eventually, their conversation led them to Amalie.

‘Grandma, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, about Oskar,’ Charlotte said. ‘Were there never any photos of him in your grandparents’ home when you were growing up? No mention of the fact that your father’s brother had died?’

Her grandmother sighed. ‘I’ve asked myself the same thing over and over.

You know I searched all those boxes we had in storage, but there’s nothing.

It’s almost as if they completely erased him from their memory after he passed, because there’s not a birth certificate or a photo or even a diary entry that mentions him. ’

‘It’s hard to fathom what Amalie went through, but until you experience loss, you don’t know how you’ll react,’ her father said. ‘Sometimes it changes you in ways that you could never have imagined.’

‘I can second that,’ Harrison said. ‘The grief is all-consuming, and sometimes the only way to cope is to lash out at the ones you love, even though all you really want is to draw them close and never let them go.’

Charlotte looked between the two men, and she didn’t know whom her heart ached for more—her father or Harrison.

‘I don’t blame Amalie, not for a second.

I always knew she was brave, but when I think about how terrified she must have been, and how young she was when she found herself in London…

’ Charlotte’s grandmother sighed. ‘She was a very special woman, and she carried a burden that no woman should ever have to carry alone.’

‘The night of the hotel opening, when she mentioned being in the hotel business,’ Harrison said, ‘I did some research about her and Alexander when I got home. But everything I read credited only her husband for the empire they built. She wasn’t mentioned once.’

‘The one thing I do know about Amalie,’ said Charlotte’s grandmother, ‘was that she was as much the driving force behind my family’s business interests as my father was.

She worked tirelessly, and one of my earliest memories is of her sitting at our kitchen table, poring over architectural plans, and curling up in her lap at night and listening to her talk to my father about what hotel they would open next. ’

‘Do you think anyone else knew how involved she was?’

‘I think Alexander’s family did, and I think that’s why things changed between them so much.

They finally saw her for the woman she was, and realised what she could do for their son, at his side, as he continued to grow the business.

I imagine they spent the rest of their lives regretting the way they’d underestimated her, knowing that their son’s death was effectively their fault. ’

They sat in silence for a moment, sipping their champagne, as if they all needed a moment to digest what Amalie’s life had meant, how successful she’d been behind the scenes.

Charlotte couldn’t imagine what it would be like working so hard without anyone knowing, couldn’t help but imagine if it were her, and she only wished she’d known years earlier, so that she could have talked to Amalie about her work.

‘When I left, you still didn’t have the whole story pieced together, about what happened after she married Alexander,’ Harrison said.

‘Did Amalie share the rest of her story with you, or are you just going from your own memories of them now?’ He looked to her grandmother, but it was Charlotte who spoke.

‘It just so happens,’ Charlotte said, speaking for her grandmother, ‘that she did share the rest of her story, right before she passed. I went to see her that morning, and it was when I went back that afternoon that she left us.’ It wasn’t lost on Charlotte that if Harrison hadn’t finished things between them, she might never have gone to see Amalie that day, which would have meant she’d never have heard the final part of her story.

‘She was a remarkable woman, my mother,’ Charlotte’s grandmother said. ‘And at least now we know that she shared everything she could with us, before it was too late. Part of me wonders if she was hanging on until she’d shared every last piece of the story with us.’

Charlotte had imagined that Amalie had spent her entire life mourning Oskar, that the grandmother she’d known had hidden her sadness. How wrong she’d been.

Amalie had lived her life to the fullest despite her heartache, and if that wasn’t an inspiration, then she didn’t know what was.

‘Did she ever stop mourning Oskar?’ Harrison asked.

Charlotte met his gaze, sensing that he had a very personal reason to ask that question.

‘Yes, she did,’ Charlotte’s grandmother said, smiling. ‘Which only made me admire her all the more.’