In Focus (2009) (34 page)

He was still smiling when he put the phone down. Grandfather! He’d given up hope of that when he found he couldn’t father a child. It’d be wonderful to have a grandchild, possibly more than one if Jo met another guy she liked.

Ilsa looked into his office. ‘Something nice happen? You’re smiling for the first time today.’

‘Yes. Just a small thing, but it lifts the spirits.’

At three thirty there was a knock on the door, and when Ghita answered it, she let out a cry of shock at the sight of her father.

He pushed into the flat, grabbing her arm and giving it a shake to emphasize his words. ‘You, my girl, are packing your things and coming home with me now. I’m not having you staying with
that woman
for one hour longer.’

Jo rushed into the hall and saw her friend trying to pull away from her irate father, so tried to shove between them. ‘Let her go, you big bully!’

‘Mind your own business, you! I’m not having my daughter associating with people like you and your mother.’

‘What’s my mother done wrong, for heaven’s sake?’

‘She’s a bad example for my daughter, goes out and works like a man. And
her
mother was bad too.
She
was so careless she let her son be kidnapped.’

Furious, Jo poked him in the chest. ‘You’re a fine one to talk. What did you do when your daughter needed help? Disowned her, that’s what. If it hadn’t been for the women’s shelter, she’d have been begging on the streets. Some father you are!’

She grabbed Ghita’s hand and yanked her away, knowing how her friend froze when faced with the man who had once dominated her life. Shoving Ghita behind her, she glared at him. ‘Get out of this flat before we call the police.’

‘I’m her father. I have a
right
to tell her what to do.’

Jo made a loud, scornful noise. ‘Rubbish! She’s twenty-four, not fourteen. Besides, as I just told you, you lost that right when you abandoned her after she was attacked. She’s happy here and she’ll be happy living with me, too, when we find a place of our own. But she’d never be happy with you because you don’t care about her, only about yourself.’

Ghita’s father gaped at her, then lunged forward, arm raised.

Beth woke from an uneasy doze to hear someone shouting in the hall. She lay for a moment, then jerked upright as she realized one of the voices was a man’s, and that it was Jo who was yelling at him.

Had the journalists broken in?

She rolled off the bed and ran to the door, flinging it open to see a man lunging for her daughter. Grabbing the nearest thing, which was one of Mikey’s soft toys, she hurled it at him.

The toy was too soft to harm him, but it stopped Ghita’s father in his tracks. He turned to glare at her just as someone else pushed open the front door and called, ‘Father, stop this!’

The newcomer was a startlingly handsome young man, with dark hair and beautiful coffee-coloured skin.

‘I beg you, don’t cause trouble, Father!’ he pleaded. ‘These people have enough to bear.’

His father grunted but let his hand fall.

Beth looked from one person to the other. ‘Let’s go and sit down in the living room. We should talk about this reasonably, Mr Haddad, not come to blows.’

Ghita gestured to the door of the living room. ‘Please, Father.’

‘I’ll come in willingly.’ Nuriel moved forward.

His sister gave him a quick smile of gratitude.

His father hesitated, looked at his son and daughter, then flung up his hands, speaking in his own language.

To everyone’s relief, after hesitating for what seemed a long time, he went through the door to the living room.

Beth gestured to the sofa. ‘Please sit down, Mr Haddad. May we offer you some refreshment?’

The others filed into the room and took seats, but Ghita took the one furthest away from her father.

‘Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs Harding,’ Nuriel said, seeing that his father seemed struck dumb. ‘We’d like that very much.’

‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ Jo said.

For once, Ghita didn’t rush to help in the kitchen. When Kaleel came across to her, she pulled him on to her knee and cuddled him close, as if protecting him.

Nuriel went across to his sister, who looked at him warily. He knelt down beside her and spoke to the child. ‘Hello, Kaleel. I’m your uncle.’

She whispered in her son’s ear.

He smiled at Nuriel and said, ‘Hello, Uncle Nuriel,’ then grew shy and hid his face against his mother.

Mikey tried to go towards them. Beth grabbed him. ‘Stay with me, darling.’

He looked at her mutinously but let her pull him on to her lap.

Nuriel pulled out his mobile phone, took a photo of his sister and her child, then showed it to Kaleel, who clapped his hands in pleasure. ‘I’ll give a copy of this to my mother,’ he said. ‘She longs to know her grandson better.’

Mr Haddad closed his eyes, but tears leaked out and he wiped them away with one forearm, muttering something.

‘What’s he saying?’ Beth whispered to Nuriel.

‘He’s saying he wants his family back,’ he said. He turned to his sister. ‘You don’t need to come home to live, but you could come to visit us, surely? I’d fetch you and see you got home safely afterwards each time.’

Then she too was weeping, flinging herself into her brother’s arms. ‘Yes, yes! I’d love that.’

The two little boys, upset by all the fuss, began to cry as well, and by the time they’d been settled, Jo was back with a tray of refreshments.

‘I’m not as good at this as Ghita,’ she said conversationally. ‘She’s teaching me a lot, but I’ll never be a good cook like she is.’

She began to pass out the cups of coffee, offering sugar and milk, then a platter of biscuits.

Mr Haddad hesitated, then took what she offered, and Nuriel breathed a sigh of relief.

Ghita stayed where she was, her son on her knee, looking occasionally at her father, an uncertain gaze in which hope was mingled with fear.

Kaleel saw where she was looking and peeped at the man, too.

‘He’s your grandfather,’ she whispered. ‘Say hello to your grandfather.’

For a moment all seemed to hang in the balance, then Mr Haddad put down his cup, held out his arms and said in a husky voice, ‘Come to me, Kaleel.’

To everyone’s astonishment, the little boy slid off his mother’s knee and went across to the man sitting opposite, standing in front of him, staring at him as he asked, ‘You came to see us before.’

‘Yes.’ With an inarticulate murmur, Mr Haddad gathered his grandson in his arms, tears rolling down his cheeks.

Nuriel exchanged thankful glances with Ghita. ‘Maybe now,’ he said softly, ‘we can begin to mend our family.’

Beth had been watching all this, not daring to interrupt. Impossible not to be moved by the reconciliation. Impossible not to shed a tear with them.

And, she realized suddenly, she’d learnt something important from it.

‘I have to leave,’ she said. ‘I don’t wish to offend you, Mr Haddad, but this is very important. Please stay as long as you like.’

‘Where are you going, Mum?’ Jo asked, coming to the door.

‘I’m going to the press conference, where else?’

Jo gave her a hug. ‘Oh, Mum, I’m so glad. It’s the right thing to do, I know it is. Do you want me to come with you?’

Beth hugged her back. ‘No. But I want you to be here when I get back.’

‘You won’t lose me again, Mum. We may quarrel—’ She smiled wryly and amended it to, ‘We will quarrel sometimes, but I won’t run away again, I promise.’

So Beth had to give her another hug.

When her mother had left, Jo turned to Ghita’s father. ‘I can’t do it as well as your daughter, but I think we should have some more bits and pieces to eat, show you proper hospitality. It’d be nice for us all to eat together, don’t you think? And apart from anything else, the boys will be getting hungry.’

‘I’ll help you,’ Nuriel said.

Ghita stared at her brother in amazement. ‘
You
will?’

‘I have English friends. I’ve learned not to sit and expect to be waited on. You stay and tell Father about Kaleel. Have you any baby photos?’

‘Quite a few.’

‘Please let me see them,’ his father said.

Mikey tugged at the visitor’s trouser leg. ‘I’ve got a huffilump.’

‘He means elephant,’ Ghita said.

‘I’ve got a teddy,’ Kaleel said.

‘Show me your toys.’

Mikey and Kaleel trotted off to fetch them and Ghita was left with her father.

‘He’s a fine boy,’ he said. ‘A fine grandson.’

‘I’m bringing him up carefully to know what’s right and wrong. Father . . . I did no wrong that night, spoke to no one, looked at no one.’

He nodded his head. ‘I knew that really. Your mother said so straight away. I was . . . ashamed. It’s not an easy thing for a man like me to deal with.’

She sat with head bowed.

‘I shouldn’t have turned you out, Ghita. I should have helped you. Your mother weeps at night still.’

‘I can’t come back to live with you but I’d love to come back to visit. I could bring Jo, too, perhaps? She’s like a sister to me. She’s protected me, helped me.’

‘Then she’s very welcome in our house.’

In the kitchen Nuriel was proving inept but willing. Jo got him to set out some small crackers on a plate and cut up cheese into pieces while she refilled the coffee pot.

‘There.’ He indicated the plate.

As they both looked at it, a piece of cheese rolled off.

‘Ghita would have made it look pretty. And it looks a bit bare, don’t you think? I know . . . Mum’s got some olives.’ She opened the fridge and offered him the jar. ‘Set them out next to the cheese while I see if I can find anything else. Ghita always seems to produce several plates of things.’

She pounced on a platter of halva in the fridge and put some on a doily on a smaller plate, then grinned at Nuriel. ‘That’s the best I can do.’

‘It’s symbolic to share food. Important. No one will complain.’ He frowned and bent his head for a moment. ‘Will your mother be all right? I could see she’d been crying. Shouldn’t you go after her?’

Jo shook her head. ‘No, this is something she needs to do on her own.’ She peeped into the living area. ‘Let’s go and rescue Ghita now.’

‘Rescue?’

‘They both look as if they don’t know what to say and your father looks embarrassed.’ As they picked up the plates, she studied Nuriel. ‘How come you’re not like your father?’

‘I came here when I was three, grew up in England, and we lived in a small town at first where I went to the local school. That was fortunate for me. The headmaster didn’t allow bullying and welcomed children of every nationality. I was very happy there, sorry when my father brought us to London and tried to live more like the old way. It was too late for me by then. I felt English. How did you meet Ghita?’

‘I was living rough until I had the baby. I met Ghita in hospital and we teamed up. I got depressed after the birth and she just about saved my life. I swore then that one day I’d get a home of my own for me and Mikey, and she wanted the same for her son.’ She broke off and smiled at Nuriel. ‘Though why I’m telling you this when I’ve only just met you, I can’t think. Come on. Let’s go and relieve Mafeking.’

She didn’t explain the last comment, just sailed into the living room and offered the plate to Mr Haddad, winking at Ghita and automatically telling Mikey and Kaleel to find towels to sit on if they wanted some food.

Twenty-one

Beth drove to the hotel where Jo said the press conference was going to be held. She was worried she’d miss the beginning, but hoped to get there before it ended.

Having seen the difficulties and stresses faced by Ghita and her family as they tried to reconcile with one another, she’d suddenly realized she had no right to expect things to be any easier for her. Why should Edward have to give up his relationship with his cousin, which was obviously a close one? Why should Pete do anything to hurt the woman who’d brought him up, when they clearly loved one another deeply?

What had happened had been hurtful after the years of wondering whether her brother was still alive – but the kidnapping wasn’t Pete and his mother’s fault. She didn’t suppose anyone would find the guilty person after all this time, but there were still many years, hopefully, in which to rebuild their relationships. She hoped Pete wouldn’t refuse to associate with her mother once this fuss had died down. She was going to try very hard to hold out an olive branch to him and see if she could become his sister again as well.

After all, if her mother could put the situation behind her, then perhaps Beth could too. If Ghita’s father could try to reconcile with her, going against all his upbringing, then Beth could at least try. She wasn’t perfect. No one was. And it wouldn’t be easy for her to open herself to the world again. But she thought, she really did, that Edward would understand and help her.

And that now she’d let him.

When she arrived at the hotel, she found a man standing guard at the door of the suite where the conference was being held.

‘Sorry, ma’am, but my orders are that no one else is to go in.’

‘I’m Pete Newbury’s sister. I’ve been delayed. I have to be there. I’m late already.’

‘They haven’t started yet. Just a minute, ma’am.’ He pulled out a mobile and rang someone, explaining the situation. ‘They’re just asking Mr Newbury about you.’

The man was burly, taller than her and as immovable as a rock, or she’d have pushed him aside. As it was, she could only wait impatiently. It seemed to be taking a long time to get an answer.

One of the security men came into the area where Edward, Pete and Linda were waiting to go out and talk to the media. He went towards Edward and bent to whisper something. Pete watched anxiously, wondering what had gone wrong now. They were already fifteen minutes late and he just wanted to get this over with. He felt too nervous to move across the room and find out what was going on.