Her birth mother’s name was Veronica Kelly. It was a perfectly respectable name, she thought wondering what she looked like. Would she have the same slight bump that Isabel had in her nose? Maybe she’d gotten the dimple in her cheek from her. What was she like? Did she have a sense of humour? Was she overly sensitive or was she bold and brash? Questions flooded her brain, and she realised they’d always been there; she’d just chosen not to ask them until now.
It was later that her dad had taken her aside and with a rare show of insight explained to her that she needed to think about things from Babs perspective. Of course she felt threatened. It was natural, but she’d get over it. It had come as a shock that was all, and she’d just need a bit of time. ‘We never even think about you being adopted, Izzy,’ he’d added. ‘You’ve always been ours, and that’s the end of it. But I can understand your curiosity. I’m surprised you’ve waited this long to be honest.’ He gave her a clumsy hug. ‘I hope you find what you are looking for.’
‘I don’t know what I’m looking for Dad; I just know I need to look.’
She took the folder back to Wight with her and put it in the drawer where she kept Molly’s journal. She was almost ready to take the next step and contact the adoption agency, but not just yet.
Now, she almost lost her place in the song as she spied Edward sitting with his arm linked through Constance’s. It warmed her heart to see them together. They fitted like the last two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, and not just because he’d owned up to having an extensive collection of shoes and a love of flamboyant colour when it came to his choice of tie, today’s being an unusual shade of lime green. Isabel was on the fence about that one; it made her think of the boxes of lolly ices her mum used to buy in summer. The lime ones had always been the last ones left. It was interesting watching them together because certain mannerisms and expressions were the same. The look Isabel likened to a gin-soaked prune when they didn’t approve of something being one of them! It was uncanny given they’d never met before. Mostly, though the similarity between them was in the certain glint they both had in their eyes—the glint that hinted at a propensity for naughtiness. It was that glint that had struck Isabel when she first met Constance and had been struck by the uncanny sensation of having met her somewhere before. She hadn’t met Constance, but she had unwittingly met her son.
It was hard to catch up on a lifetime in a few short weeks, but they were doing their level best. Next time he came, he promised he would bring Olga and Tatiana with him.
The Angels of Wight voices ebbed away to silence a mournful howling that drifted through the slightly ajar main doors and down the centre aisle. It was loud enough to ensure that all those in the pews either side were aware of the anguished corgi tethered to the railing at the entrance. His one true love so near and yet so far. Isabel shook her head, that bloody dog.
On Constance’s other side, Walter was sitting with a proprietary expression on his debonair features. It was a wondrous thing, but it seemed he and Constance had begun courting. The last few times Isabel had called to Sea Vistas it had been hard to get a word in between the two of them! She was going to have to get used to sharing her friend.
The applause as their song reached its conclusion overruled Prince Charles’ whining, echoing and bouncing around the acoustically perfect hall. Isabel’s gaze sought Rhodri and locating him three rows from the front, her smile was wide. He gave her the thumbs up and mouthed, ‘You were great.’
They’d had their first official date three weeks ago; he’d taken her to the movies, and it was the strangest thing, but she couldn’t tell you what they’d gone to see. She couldn’t recall the plot either, but she could recall feeling giddy like a teenager when his arm had slid around the back of the chair and dropped down onto her shoulder. She’d nearly spilled her popcorn everywhere at the thrill of it all, and after that, she might as well have been sitting watching a blank screen. He kissed her on the way home as they strolled along the Esplanade listening to the song of the sea and it had been, well it was, perfect.
The only blip on the horizon was that she’d be leaving soon, heading to London to begin her course. She’d opted to study full-time, not wanting to waste any more time in getting to where she’d decided she wanted to be. There were weekends though; he would come to her, she would come to him. They’d work it out, baby steps built on trust, day by day.
They were meeting up with Delwyn and Nico at the Rum Den later for a birthday drink and she’d heard Brenda mention something about a cake. She had the night off because it wasn’t every day one’s new boyfriend turned thirty!
The audience rose and began to edge their way out through the doors to the waiting sunshine. Isabel stepped down from the podium and felt Alice nudge her as Rhodri angled his way toward the stage. She took his outstretched hand, and she directed him toward the door at the back of the stage. She pushed it open, and they stepped outside to the gravelly car parking area. It was deserted, the audience still milling about discussing the performance at the front of the church.
Isabel felt the late morning rays of sunlight
