as he carried her to the bed.

◆◆◆

Chapter 16

Emily – January, 2017

Emily drove slowly through the village of Great Chalkham, listening to the instructions on her satnav. Her first impressions were very positive. It was a picturesque village, resplendent with quaint thatched buildings and wooden beams, very much as it had been described in the magazine article. She wondered why she had never been here before; after all, it was so close to her own home. She turned past the old mill and into the main street which was lined with cars on either side. There were a number of shops and cafes all the way along but she kept her eyes on the road. She was glad she was driving her mini and not Adam’s 4 x 4 as it was a tight squeeze through the stationary vehicles. At the end of the street, she turned left, as directed, up a narrow lane. She checked the sign - ‘Chalkpit Lane’ – and smiled. ‘This is right. Alex, we’re nearly there,’ she said.

She followed the road for almost half a mile, passing just two houses until she saw the cottage on the left, set back a little way from the road behind a hedge. She stopped the car and stared. The recognition was instant, like a jolt in her chest, and anticipation thrummed though her veins. It looked utterly charming with its whitewashed walls, thatched roof and leaded windows – just as it had in the photograph. The extensions, which had been added to the right and rear of the property, had been sympathetic to the original building and the overall impression was one of simple, rustic beauty. Even if this proved to be another dead end, like so many times before, Emily was sure she would enjoy her stay.

It had not been a difficult decision, once she'd identified the cottage in Norah’s scrapbook, to make it the destination of the short January break she had been planning. Adam had laughed when she'd told him where she was going. ‘I know you didn’t want to go too far afield,’ he said, ‘but that’s ridiculous! You could easily do that as a day trip.’

She had then shown him the two photographs she had of the cottage, side by side, and he had exclaimed in shock. He took hold of her hand. When they'd got engaged, she'd told him of her adoption and her quest to find her real mother. She did not want there to be any secrets between them or, at least, any big secrets. Her imaginary friend, Molly, had been part of her own, private history for so long that she just could not bring herself to tell him. She could not bear to see that look of scepticism or, even worse, doubts about her mental stability, appear on his face. Anyway, after they were married, Molly seemed to have disappeared from her life  ... until just a few months ago.

‘Why don’t we go and have a look together?’ Adam had said. ‘I’ve got to work on Saturday but we could go on Sunday, have a day out.’

She shook her head. ‘I’d thought of that but my plan will give me the chance to stay in the very place where Norah lived with her husband and baby. I can take my time to explore the village – maybe find the house where she lived as a child. There may be someone in the village who remembers her, who knows what happened to her and why there are no more photos after that last one …’ Her voice tailed off and she waited for his response.

‘Try not to get your hopes up, Emily. It’s very unlikely anyone who knew the family will still be alive. Even if they were, would they still be able to remember? They’d have to be in their nineties.’ He gave her a hug. ‘I’m not saying it’s impossible – just that it’s unlikely. I don’t want you to be disappointed and especially not when I’m unable to support you. I still think you should wait. Maybe I can take some time off in February.’ He frowned. ‘Well, maybe not February. I’ve already got a number of short trips away booked up. Maybe March.’

‘Or maybe I just take Alex and go in January,’ she said, giving him a smile. ‘Honestly, Adam, I’ll be fine. I know I’m unlikely to find out any more but this cottage is somehow linked to my past. It’s the first bit of concrete evidence I’ve found since I discovered the names of my birth parents. I want to go and stay there and I don’t want to wait until March, or April, or May. Please understand.’

He kissed the top of her head. ‘Ok, if that’s what you want. I do understand; I just worry about you, that’s all. What if you find out something really upsetting and I’m not there with you?’

She sighed. ‘It’s not knowing which is the hardest to live with. It’s like a constant pain inside, nagging and gnawing away at me, the thought that I might have family out there somewhere, people who are my own flesh and blood, people who belong to me and I belong to them. I need to find them if I can.’

He squeezed her against him. ‘We’re your family, Alex and I, and my parents and my sister Kate and her family and your two dotty aunts. We’re here for you. We’re your here and now.’

‘I know that and I love you all. It’s just that I have a past, a heritage that’s missing and I can’t help feeling lost without it. It’s a part of me and I have to try to discover it … oh, it’s so difficult to explain.’

‘You don’t have to explain,’ he had said. ‘I understand.’

Now she was actually here - just she and Alex. She'd decided against asking Annie to come with her. That way she was free to do as she pleased

Вы читаете The Girl in the Scrapbook
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату