Family Secrets Read online

  “This one was from the press – the chap said he had a friend in Kent who’d obviously tipped him off about the raid – wanted to know where Miss Soames was. Don’t worry; I didn’t give you away – stuck to my story.”

  “Thanks. So those people who phoned up – were they from the press too?”

  Fiona spread her hands. “Possibly – no idea... Anyway, let’s forget about it. Look, why don’t you come round to supper at mine tonight? Dave’s got a darts match with his mates.”

  Rhianna suddenly felt tired. The emotional time of last few days was catching up with her.

  “Thanks but there are a few things I ought to do.”

  Seeing Fiona’s disappointed face she said, “Tell you what – come to me. We’ll have a take-away and some more catch-up time.”

  “OK - and you can tell me all about the gorgeous Laurie.”

  *

  The gorgeous Laurie was sharing a tray of tea with Letitia, even as Fiona spoke.

  “She’s a truly lovely girl, Laurie,” Letitia told him warmly.

  He nodded, “She certainly seems to be. I’m pleased it’s working out for you.”

  “It seems Joe hadn’t said anything to her about what happened all those years ago,” she said slowly.

  “And I take it you haven’t told her either?” he prompted gently.

  She twisted her hands in her lap. “No, not yet. We need to get to know each other a bit more before then. Our relationship is still rather – fragile.”

  He gave her a searching glance. “And is ours, Tish?”

  Her head shot up. “No, of course not - whatever makes you say that, Laurie? Oh, I think I see where you’re coming from.”

  He nodded. “You didn’t tell myself or Tina what caused the rift between Rhianna’s father and Reg.”

  There was sadness in her eyes. She stroked Tansy absently.

  “No – well, sometimes things are best left unsaid, and it was all a long time ago. There was enough upset then and I don’t want it to happen again.”

  He nodded. “I understand your sentiments, but I suspect that this time you might have to rake up the past in order to move forward.”

  Letitia knew that he was talking sense. She sighed. “Yes, maybe you’re right. Oh, dear some decisions can be very difficult, can’t they?”

  “Absolutely - such as who’s going to have that last scone. Shall we cut it in half?”

  *

  When Rhianna got home, she had an urge to go upstairs to look at the picture of Anna Soames. It was beginning to hold a strange fascination for her. It was already dark and the attic was not well lit, so she decided to wait for another day.

  She unpacked, sorted out a pile of laundry for the wash and leafed through the mail which was mainly junk.

  She was just about to ring her grandmother when she suddenly remembered the keepsake Letitia had given her. It would be better to take a look first so that she could thank her properly.

  She made a cup of tea and curled up on the sofa. She opened the package carefully. Inside, she found a sketch-book, a thick school exercise book labelled in bold writing, Joseph Delroy, Nature Study, and a pen and pencil set engraved with her father’s name.

  The tears flowed as she examined them. All these years her grandmother had kept them. Had she hoped that one day she would be reunited with her son?

  The sketches mostly had dates on the bottom and had obviously been from her father’s art college days. There were two or three pencil drawings of a very lovely young woman and Rhianna didn’t need to be told that the model was Anna Soames.

  As she closed the book a photograph fell out. It was of a group of young people all laughing at some joke. She didn’t recognise any of them at first, and then she picked out her father and, standing next to him, an attractive woman who had to be Anna. On the other side of her was Henry Parsons, Rhianna’s godfather.

  When she turned the photograph over she discovered a list of names which confirmed she’d guessed accurately.

  After a while, she picked up the phone to her grandmother.

  “Hallo, Letitia. Just to let you know I got back safely.”

  “That’s good. Oh, I’ve had such a lovely afternoon chatting with Laurie – he’s only just gone. I hadn’t realised how late it was. How was your journey, dear?”

  “Fine – Letitia thank you so much for the keepsakes. I’ll really treasure them - especially the photograph?”

  “Photograph? What photograph, dear?” Letitia sounded puzzled.

  “The one that was in the sketchbook. It’s got a number of names on the back, but the only people I recognise are my father, Anna Soames and Henry Parsons.”

  “Well, fancy that. I must have overlooked it. Henry Parsons – I remember him really well. He was one of your father’s friends from Art College. He often came to stay. So they kept in touch, did they?”

  “Yes, until I was about twelve. Henry was my godfather – still is, I suppose, but he and his wife live in New Zealand now.”

  “Really – he was such a nice young man. And you say there are names on the back of this photograph. Would you read them out to me, dear?”

  Rhianna obliged and periodically her grandmother stopped her and told her a bit about the people she remembered.

  “Well, of course you already know a bit about Anna. They were all friends together but most of them have moved away from Brookhurst now.”

  *

  It was a strange feeling, Rhianna thought, as she tidied away and ordered a Chinese takeaway. All these people her father had once known and she had never heard of. Of course, there was Henry Parsons. Perhaps she would email him sometime.

  Oh Dad - if only you were around so that you could tell me what happened all those years ago. It must have been pretty bad to make you pretend to us that you no longer had any parents.

  As they sat over their Chinese meal, Fiona filled her in a bit more about the online business and what else had been going on at the gallery.

  “I’ve had a few enquiries about your decoupage classes. People wanting to make cards for Mother’s Day or Easter. It’s a golden opportunity, Rhia. Couldn’t you do a taster class perhaps?”

  “That’s a great idea. You’re a genius, Fi.”

  “Now it’s your turn,” Fiona said when they had finalised the arrangements for Friday and she’d told her friend about a couple of outings she’d had with Dave. “I want a blow by blow account of what happened.”

  Rhianna helped herself to some more sweet and sour chicken and gave her an edited version. Fiona’s eyes widened as she mentioned the CID searching the cottage.

  “And you’re still none the wiser about why your father cut himself off from his parents?” she asked at length.

  “Nope. But I’m just wondering if my god-father in New Zealand might know anything. I was only a small girl when he emigrated and we only contact each other at Christmas usually, but he was a friend of Dad’s.”

  “On the other hand, it might be best to let sleeping dogs lie,” Fiona said cryptically. “But you can tell me about the gorgeous Laurie. Now that you’ve discovered he’s not the enemy… did you see much of him?”

  It was an unfortunate choice of words. A little smile played about Rhianna’s lips, as she thought of her encounter with Lawrence outside the bathroom at The White Unicorn. She’d seen a fair bit of him then!

  “What?” Fiona demanded, chopsticks suspended on the way to her mouth.

  “Well, there was one incident…”

  Fiona was all agog but Rhianna told her about the episode at the house they went to visit and the woman with the rolling pin

  Fiona gave her knowing look. “Why do I get the feeling you’re holding out on me? You were staying in the same pub. Did you eat with him?"

  Rhianna nodded. “We had a meal at the Vicarage. Tim and Myra Holt are a really great couple.”

  Fiona threw a handful of prawn crackers at her friend in exasperation.

  “That wasn’t what I meant a
nd you know it!”

  “Oh, Laurie and I got on well enough. But we haven’t known each other for more than five minutes.”

  Suddenly Rhianna didn’t want to discuss Laurie. She swept up the empty containers and took them into the kitchen.

  When she returned with coffee and a couple of chocolate mousses that she’d found lurking at the back of the fridge, approaching their sell by date, Fiona was leafing through the sketchbook Letitia had given her.

  “These are quite something, aren’t they Rhia? Would you consider having another exhibition of your father’s work sometime?”

  “Possibly, but that sketchbook wouldn’t be included. It’s too precious.”

  She plucked it from Fiona’s hands and placed it on the table.

  Their conversation turned to lighter topics and, presently, Fiona jumped to her feet. “I said I’d join Dave and the guys for a drink at the pub. Their match should be over by now. Fancy coming with me?”

  Rhianna declined and, after Fiona had left, took yet another look at the sketches of Anna Soames, as if by doing so she could find the answer to the puzzle that seemed to be niggling away at the back of her mind.

  Her parents had always had such a good loving relationship and the three of them had been a complete family. She had never had any reason to question anything about her father’s past before, but now one or two doubts were creeping in and she wished they would go away.

  *

  On Friday morning, Rhianna and Fiona stood looking around them. The gallery was all set up for the workshop. They had sufficient spaces for twenty children and a number of adults.

  “Well, we’re all prepared,” Fiona said, peering out of the window. “Stand back ready for take-off. Here they come!”

  Rhianna enjoyed these sessions. It was lovely watching the joy on the children’s’ faces when they’d achieved something creative. Several of the parents, mostly mums, congregated at one end of the gallery for a chat over coffee; others joined in with their offspring.

  A number of the children had been before and, after a brief talk from Rhianna and Fiona, settled busily to their tasks. Most had plenty of ideas and those who got stuck were provided with sheets of designs to trace or copy. It was a noisy, happy atmosphere, well organised and yet informal.

  Rhianna had just come back downstairs with a couple of boxes of supplies. As she reached the bottom step, she saw Fiona settling a small chestnut-haired girl on a stool. Lawrence was smiling down at her.

  Taken aback, Rhianna set the boxes down on the end of the table.

  “Hi, Rhia. This is Katie,” Lawrence told her and turned to the child. “I told you you’d be having a fun time this morning, didn’t I?”

  The little girl, absorbed in what was going on around her, merely nodded.

  Rhianna’s head was whirling and, as soon as was possible, she busied herself on the other side of the room. Why hadn’t Lawrence told her he had a child? Now she came to think of it he had mentioned family commitments. Surely the little girl couldn’t be his and Tina’s? If so then he had to know where she was. Rhianna dismissed that thought almost immediately, as being too incredulous.

  Once or twice she caught Lawrence looking in her direction and bent her head to speak with a child. After a while, Lawrence went to have a coffee and she crossed to Katie’s side. The little girl looked up at her and beamed. Judging from her gappy teeth she had to be around seven.

  “I choosed flowers for Mummy, but I don’t know what to do for Daddy,” Katie confided.

  “No problem. I’ve got some sheets of patterns to help you decide. I’m sure you’ll find plenty to choose from.”

  Katie was a dear little girl and Rhianna was incensed. Why couldn’t Lawrence have mentioned that he had a child? For all she knew, he’d gone back to her mother after he’d left Tina. How dare he flirt with Rhianna when there was someone else in his life?

  She moved away to help a small boy who hadn’t a clue what he was doing. When she next looked up, she saw a couple of men standing in the doorway. One was carrying a camera. The press had turned up. Rhianna had completely forgotten they were coming and Fiona was nowhere to be seen.

  Rhianna had a brief word with the reporter and photographer, and then she clapped her hands for attention and explained what was happening; giving the parents the opportunity to withdraw their children to the back of the gallery if they didn’t want them to be photographed. To her relief, Fiona reappeared just then carrying a bundle of design sheets.

  The thought of being in the newspaper made the children’s day. The photographer took some pictures of Matthew’s paintings too, which was a bonus.

  “Are you sure you weren’t mixed up in that raid?” the reporter asked Rhianna. “Only my mate was telling me…”

  Rhianna shook her head. “Now, if you don’t mind we really must press on. We’ve another group of children coming in shortly. I look forward to reading your article next Friday.”

  As the workshop came to an end and Fiona began to collect up the pottery in carefully labelled trays, Rhianna noticed that Katie looked upset and went over to see what the problem was. Apparently, the little girl hadn’t realised she couldn’t take her mugs home with her there and then.

  Katie’s lip trembled, “But I wanted to give it to Mummy for Mothers’ Day.”

  Lawrence hunkered down to her level. “Don’t worry, Pumpkin, I’ll collect your mugs for you next week - promise. You’ll have it in plenty of time.”

  He popped them into the tray and unknotted Katie’s apron.

  Rhianna realised how good he was with children. She left him and went to help another girl who hadn’t quite finished her pattern. When Rhianna next looked up, she saw Lawrence was in earnest conversation with Fiona, and Katie was putting on her coat.

  “I’ll pop in on Tuesday afternoon to collect the mugs - if that’s OK,” he told them. “I’m impressed with the way you two organised this workshop. The kids were so enthusiastic and involved.”

  Fiona did a mock curtsey. “Thank you kind sir – we aim to please.”

  She began clearing up and settling one or two children who had arrived for the next session. Katie tugged Lawrence’s arm.

  “Come on. We mustn’t be late for Grandma and Mummy.”

  He looked at Rhianna apologetically. “We’ve arranged to meet up for a family lunch. Talk about a petticoat government! OK, young Katie, say thank you to Rhia and Fiona.”

  They were so busy for the rest of the morning that Rhianna didn’t have time to think, but there was a heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach. As they snatched a short lunch break before the older children came in that afternoon Fiona challenged her.

  “Rhia, whatever was wrong between you and Laurie? You were avoiding him for most of the session.”

  Rhianna gulped down a mouthful of coffee; it burnt her tongue.

  “I should have thought that was obvious. Can’t you guess? He didn’t tell me he had a child and possibly an ex-wife or partner - other than Tina. He’s having lunch with Katie’s mother now, even as we speak. He must be a right Lothario.”

  Fiona stood staring at her and then began to laugh.

  “Oh Rhianna – talk about crossed wires! Katie’s not his daughter, she’s his niece!”

  Rhianna gasped and clapped her hand to her mouth. “Oh, my goodness. What a fool I’ve been. Whatever must he think?”

  Fiona shook her head in bemusement. “What I don’t understand Rhia is would it have mattered if he had a child?”

  Rhianna gaped at her, “Absolutely not. You know I like children. Katie’s a sweet little girl, whoever her mother is. It’s just that I prefer people to be upfront with me.”

  Fiona gave her friend a slap on the back. “So you do care about the gorgeous Laurie? You’re not quite impervious to his charms! Go on admit it!”

  Rhianna knew it was difficult to keep things from her friend, but she had no intention of admitting anything. She fixed her with a reproving look.

  “Stop re
ading things into the situation, Fi. I haven’t known Laurie more than five minutes… Now, we’d better get organised for this afternoon. Those teenagers can be rather demanding if we don’t keep on top of things.”

  As she checked that they’d got everything ready, she wondered miserably how she could put things right with Lawrence.

  *

  Lawrence was eating lunch with his family in a restaurant in St Albans.

  “I liked that lady with the gold hair. She helped me with my pattern,” Katie said, spearing a chip.

  “Who’s this?” Lawrence’s sister-in-law, Allison asked.

  “Katie means Rhianna who runs the gallery with her friend Fiona.”

  “She was nice too,” Katie piped up. “She’s got red hair and she’s funny. Can we go there again, Uncle Laurie, please?”

  “Oh, I’m sure we can when you come to stay with Grandma and Grandpa another time…Rhianna is Letitia Delroy’s grand-daughter,” he explained to Allison.

  Allison’s eyebrows shot up. “Didn’t know Letitia had any family.”

  “Tell you later,” Mary Lorimer mouthed, nodding slightly towards Katie.

  But Katie was blowing bubbles in her lemonade and not listening.

  “Don’t do that,” Allison chided her small daughter. “You still haven’t told me what you made at the workshop.”

  Katie sighed and rolled her eyes. “I told you, Mummy. It’s a surprise. You’ll have to be pa-chent,” she said, trying out a word her mother often used on her.

  The two women tried to keep straight faces.

  “Well, she’s a chip off the old block and no mistake,” Mary Lorimer said. She turned to Laurie who was still trying to figure out why Rhianna had given him the cold shoulder. He had no idea what he could have done to offend her. He frowned. Perhaps he should ring her and try to find out.

  “Laurie what on earth’s wrong?” his mother demanded. “This is supposed to be an enjoyable family meal out and you look as if you’re at a funeral wake.”

  Lawrence jerked himself back to the present with an effort. “Sorry, I was miles away. What were you saying?”

  “What’s a foonral wa- that thing you said, Grandma?” asked Katie waving her straw.