‘I take it you’ve kept all this to yourself?’ Juliette asked. ‘I mean, from the police.’
‘Just Alice, Jan, Laura, George and I know the truth—and now you two. I wrestled with it for a long time, I really did. I still don’t know if I did the right thing. Once I had gathered enough evidence, I flew over to Boston and drove up to see my mom—the first time since I’d left in seventy-six. I stood on her doorstep and told her everything I knew. She slammed the door in my face and I walked away.’
‘What an evil woman,’ Juliette said. ‘And ill.’
‘It pains me to say it, but yes, she was,’ Jack agreed. ‘Alice and I talked it over—about getting the police involved—but by this time her dementia was kicking in and we just couldn’t see what was to gain by putting everyone through an investigation.’
‘I understand that,’ Morton said.
There was a pause whilst the three of them took stock of the new revelations.
‘Sorry,’ Jack apologised, ‘that was pretty intense for our first meeting. I promise there’s nothing else bad like that.’
Morton laughed. It was funny to hear the depth of research that his father had undertaken in order to discover the truth; it was exactly what he would have done in his position.
‘I hate to say this,’ Juliette began, ‘but we’ve got a plane to catch.’
‘So, where do we go from here?’ Jack asked. ‘I mean, I know you’re flying to New York then back home, but after that? I’m assuming after all that hard work that you’d like to keep in touch? Unless I’ve scared you off with my stories, that is.’
‘Yes—yes, absolutely I’d like to stay in touch.’ Morton said, lamenting that the words sounded so inadequate, like he was saying goodbye to someone whom he had just met on holiday. Now that he had found him, he wanted so much more from his relationship with his father. ‘Skype? Or maybe meet up soon?’
Jack smiled. ‘Yeah, I would love that. I’ll get arranging a vacation to England, then. How does that sound?’
‘Fantastic,’ Morton replied. ‘You can stay with us—we live in Rye.’
Jack’s eyes lit up. ‘Ah, yes, I remember quaint little Rye. Mermaid Street—is that there?’
‘That’s where we live,’ Juliette said. ‘Not a single straight wall or horizontal floor. Oh, and we have two front doors. Obviously.’
‘Sounds like my kind of place,’ Jack responded enthusiastically. ‘And you’re welcome out in Canada with us—anytime. It’ll be great to have you stay with us—meet Laura and George.’
‘That would be amazing,’ Morton said.
‘Hey—we need to exchange numbers otherwise it’ll be another forty years’ trying to find each other.’
Morton laughed and fished in his bag. With a trembling hand, he pulled out a business card, adding to the back every additional contact detail not already on it. Jack reciprocated and then, reluctantly Morton stood, signalling the end of one of the most momentous occasions in his entire life. At that moment, he knew that those thirty minutes with his father, whatever the future brought them, would stay with him for his whole life.
Jack stood and hugged Juliette, then turned back to Morton. ‘Come here, son.’ He said it with a hint of joviality, but the words were everything that Morton had ever wanted to hear.
Morton smiled and embraced his father. ‘Goodbye.’
‘You know, you could always join us for a few days in New York,’ Juliette suggested. ‘If you’re free.’
Jack looked uncertain. ‘On your honeymoon?’
Juliette looked at Morton. ‘Fine by me—obviously.’
Morton nodded. ‘That would be amazing if you could get a flight down?’
‘I’ll tell you what I’ll do,’ Jack said. ‘I’m going to get a rental car and go up and see my sister for a couple of days, give you guys some time alone, then I’ll drive down to see you in the city—how’s that?’
‘Perfect,’ Morton said.
‘I’ll be touch, then,’ Jack said. ‘Now go and catch your flight.’
‘Bye.’
The queue at check-in had dissolved and they went straight through, pausing as they disappeared through security to give Jack one last wave as he watched them leave.
Morton emitted a long, meaningful sigh as they collected their hand luggage from the security conveyer belt, tears returning to his eyes again, as he took in the magnitude of the situation. ‘Well…that was unexpected—my God.’
Juliette kissed him on the lips. ‘See, I knew you’d find him in the end. Although, technically, it was actually me who found him, but I’ll let that one pass.’
Morton laughed and reached for her hand. ‘Come on, we’ve got a few minutes—let’s go and grab a glass of champagne.’
Juliette turned her nose up. ‘Naaah—just a lemonade will do.’
‘Oh come off it—I’ve just met my dad—I want to celebrate.’
Juliette pulled Morton to a stop and stood in front of him. ‘We can—but with lemonade.’
‘I don’t understand. Why are you grinning like that?’
‘Well…we’ve got something else to celebrate: I’m pregnant.’
‘What?’
‘I’m pregnant.’
‘Lemonade all round!’ Morton shouted, lifting Juliette off the ground and kissing her on the lips.
Acknowledgments
Much of the research for this book came during a two-week trip to Massachusetts in October 2016. During that time, I visited various locations, libraries and repositories, where I received considerable help and advice. Therefore, my thanks must go to the following: the staff of the genealogy section of Boston Public Library; the staff of vital records in Boston City Hall; Karen Horn at Sturgis Library; Leslie Steers at Barnstable Town Hall; and David Allen Lambert and Fr David Frederici for their knowledge of Cape Cod. All of the records that Morton uses in his research are real, but with fictitious content.
Whilst undertaking my research, I had the pleasure of
