Sealed With a Loving Kiss (37 page)

‘He certainly did,' said Rosie with a deep sigh. ‘Oh, Eileen, I'm sorry I didn't give you the chance to explain years ago. I know you tried, but I was so hurt I couldn't bear to face you.'

Eileen nodded. ‘I can understand that now, and I'm sorry too – for being such a fool to believe that you really had changed your mind when I knew how much you loved my little Flora.'

Rosie accepted her apology, but there were still things that niggled her. ‘But where did you go? Why didn't you come back here and ask me why I'd changed my mind? I would have done if the shoe was on the other foot.'

Eileen's smile was sad. ‘I wasn't as sure of myself back then as I am now, and I was too hurt and angry to face anyone for a while, so I used the money Tommy had been giving me to pay for a room in a boarding house in another seaside town and stayed there until I felt strong enough to come back here.'

‘But why here? Why not go back to London?' asked Mary. ‘Surely you must have realised it would be awkward with Rosie just across the street?'

Eileen shrugged. ‘I had the flat and the rent was paid for several more months. There was a good job going in the Council offices and when I applied for it I got accepted immediately. I couldn't face going home, not after what I'd done, so I decided to keep out of Rosie's way and just get on with things the best I could.'

‘Well, you've got a nerve, I'll say that,' said Rosie with a touch of asperity. ‘I don't suppose it ever occurred to you that I might not appreciate bumping into you again?'

‘Don't let's fight any more,' said Eileen wearily. ‘We both know we've been victims of Tommy's twisted mind, so let's leave it at that and try to start again – for Mary's sake, if nothing else.' She got to her feet, her gaze steady as she reached out a hand to Rosie. ‘What do you say, Rosie?' she murmured.

Rosie saw the genuine appeal in the other woman's eyes and knew that to refuse this offer would be both churlish and unkind. She stood and went across to take her hand. ‘I'll be glad to give it a try, Eileen,' she murmured. ‘We were good friends once, and I'm sure we can find some way to be so again.'

Eileen nodded. ‘Thank you, Rosie.'

Rosie knew it would take time to heal those deeply seated wounds, and that perhaps the friendship wouldn't be as strong as it once had been. But they had taken that first, difficult step on the long road to recovery.

Mary watched this rather touching scene and tried to come to terms with everything she'd learned today. She was heartsore and weary from it all, and not at all sure how she felt about any of it. There was little doubt that she'd been loved by both women when she'd been born, and although Eileen was her real mother, she felt more drawn to Rosie. There was a warmth to Rosie that was lacking in Eileen, a softness and genuine kindness which she suspected Eileen did not possess.

And yet as they both turned to look at her, she knew they expected something from her – a word, or a smile – or even an acknowledgement that would ease some of the pain that Tommy had caused all those years ago through his lies and machinations.

‘I'm glad you're friends again,' she said as she moved from the couch to stand awkwardly by them. ‘And of course I don't blame either of you for what happened. But this has all come as a bit of a shock, and it will take time for me to come to terms with it.'

‘So you'll forgive us, Mary?' asked Rosie, once again on the brink of tears.

Something shifted in Mary's heart, and she realised it was up to her to repair the damage that had been caused, and to help all of them to start to heal. ‘There's nothing to forgive,' she said softly as she took their hands. ‘Eileen, it's clear to me now that you didn't abandon me and only wanted the best for me. And Rosie, I know you loved me very much and I wish with all my heart that things had worked out differently for you.'

Mary looked into their tear-streaked faces and gave them an uncertain smile. ‘We all suffered because of one man's lies, but I want you to know that I will never regret the fact that I had Gideon for a father, so something good did come out of all this.' She squeezed their fingers and then stepped back, unable to offer more than kind words and perhaps a fledgling friendship.

‘But you'll stay in Cliffehaven, won't you?' pleaded Eileen.

‘We couldn't bear to lose you now we've found you again,' said Rosie tearfully.

Mary regarded them and realised with sudden, painful clarity that she couldn't give either of these women what they so clearly yearned for – and that there was really only one place she wanted to be right at this moment. ‘I'm sorry,' she said softly, ‘but I really can't stay – not now.'

‘Then come home to those who've always loved you,' said Barbara Boniface as she stomped up the last few stairs and entered the room.

Mary flew into her open arms and felt the warmth and love of her familiar embrace enfold her. ‘Oh, Auntie Barbara,' she sobbed in relief. ‘How did you know I so longed to be with you right this minute?'

‘Because you gave Peggy my number in case of emergencies and she telephoned me this morning. I've been standing on the stairs listening for the past ten minutes,' she replied as she kissed Mary's tear-stained cheek and lovingly smoothed back her hair. ‘And because I have loved you since the first day I held you in my arms, and knew that this search of yours would inevitably lead to you needing me.'

Mary wrapped her arms around Barbara, realising now that she'd had no need to search for her mother – for she'd been there all the time. And that knowledge brought her the deepest sense of peace. The circle was closed, the past set aside, and the unbreakable ties that bound her to Barbara were sealed with a loving kiss.

TOMMY SAT ON
the stairs and blearily tried to understand what on earth was going on in Rosie's sitting room. He could barely think at all, for his body was throbbing from the agonising pain that the effort to get here had caused – yet to see Eileen and Rosie in the same room and embracing tearfully was something he never thought he'd witness.

The fact that Mary and Peggy – and the fat woman he'd seen coming in earlier – seemed to be involved in this display of tears and overwrought emotion was really confusing, and his sluggish brain simply couldn't deal with it. He knew the reason behind the enmity between Rosie and Eileen – it was of his making, after all. But what the hell had happened to bring such a turnaround? And why were Peggy and Mary involved in this ridiculous carry-on?

He closed his eyes and tried to clear the fog in his head, but that only made him feel giddy, so he quickly opened them again and clung more tightly to the banister. The sheer effort of getting up those narrow stairs had almost killed him, and he was trembling from the effort of trying to hoist himself up onto his one serviceable leg, distressed to discover that his nose was bleeding again.

At least they hadn't heard him, and were too occupied with their tears and their talking to spot him lurking on the stairs. He battled to regain his strength in those few minutes, knowing he would need every ounce of it if he was to see his plans through.

His escape from the hospital had been much easier than he'd expected, for once the doctor had agreed he could be discharged early the following morning, the nurses had let him move more freely about the ward. He'd managed to bundle up his ruined clothes from the bedside locker and hide them beneath the hospital dressing gown as he'd watched and waited until the staff nurse left the ward, so he could charm the probationer into finding him a pair of crutches so he could use the bathroom.

She'd followed him down the corridor to the bathroom and was planning to wait outside – but he'd scotched that idea by reminding her that the staff nurse had left her in charge of the ward and wouldn't be best pleased if she came back to find it deserted. Having assured her he could manage quite well, he'd breathed a tremulous sigh of relief when she finally went bustling away.

His struggle to get dressed had been painfully slow, and because his suit trousers were not only torn but stained with blood, mud and the filth from the alleyway, he'd shoved them in a waste bin and decided to risk going out in his pyjamas. On his journey to the bathroom he'd seen the abandoned wheelchair parked conveniently outside the next ward, so once he'd checked that the coast was clear, he'd hobbled towards it and sunk gratefully into it using the dressing gown as a blanket to camouflage his pyjama trousers.

But he'd soon discovered that a wheelchair is an unwieldy thing to manoeuvre when all the muscles in your body protested at every move, and his cracked ribs grated bone on bone with needle-sharp stabs. It had taken him many minutes to get the thing along the corridor and out onto the hospital forecourt, by which time he'd been sweating profusely and almost passing out with the pain.

The damned thing had proved to be murderously heavy to propel along the blasted pavement, and he'd been all too aware of the curious stares of those he passed along the way. The several hundred yards between the Anchor and the hospital felt like a million miles, but determination and fear of the Copeland brothers had kept him going.

He'd hesitated momentarily as a large woman bustled past him and disappeared down the alley to the side door. Wondering who on earth she could be and what her business was at the Anchor, he'd manipulated the wheelchair to the door that she'd left ajar so he could get some sense of what was going on upstairs. He couldn't actually hear what was being said, but it didn't take long to recognise the voices that drifted down to him, and he was shocked to the core that Eileen's was one of them.

As the large woman seemed to have joined the others, he'd gathered up the crutches, dragged himself out of the wheelchair and bumped up the stairs on his behind as quietly as possible, so he could listen in and find out what they were talking about. If Cyril Fielding was mentioned, then he'd have to just take his chances, for he was now on the point of collapse.

Thankfully, there had been no sign of the Copeland brothers during his journey, and the women still seemed to be fully occupied in some tearful exchange that made absolutely no sense to him. He dragged himself up onto his good leg, and once he'd got his balance on the crutches, he decided he'd recovered enough to put his plan of escape from Cliffehaven into action.

‘Very touching, I'm sure,' he drawled with deep sarcasm. ‘But when you've all finished blubbering, I could do with a hand.'

He saw Ron shoot to his feet with a glower as Monty growled deep in his throat and the five women silently stared at him in shock. There was obviously not going to be any offer of help. He gritted what was left of his teeth and hobbled into the room on the crutches. ‘I don't know what the hell this is all about, and I don't want to,' he slurred through his split lips. ‘But the Copeland brothers are likely to pay a visit, and it would be better if they don't find any of us here.'

‘The Copeland brothers?' rasped Ron as he took in the battered face, missing teeth and the plaster-cast. ‘Was it them who did that to you?'

Tommy didn't even glance at Ron as he headed slowly and painfully into the room on his way to the narrow hallway and his bedroom. ‘Pack your bag, Rosie, we're on the next train out of Cliffehaven.'

‘I'm not going anywhere,' she snapped.

He turned to glare at her. ‘Don't be stupid. Whatever's going on here is not important compared to what they'll do to you and this place.'

‘They'll do nothing as long as it's light,' said Ron, ‘and by the time it's dark I'll have the police here waiting for them.' He eyed Tommy with deep disgust. ‘If you're involved with scum like the Copelands, then you deserve everything you got,' he rumbled. ‘But you put my Rosie in danger, and I'll never forgive you for that, you heathen swine.'

‘Sticks and stones, old man,' he said dismissively. ‘You don't frighten me.'

Ron eyed him with loathing as he clenched his meaty fists and held onto his famous temper. ‘There are plenty of ways to skin a cat, Findlay, so I wouldn't be too cocky if I were you.'

Tommy didn't like the sound of that, for he knew Ronan Reilly was perfectly capable of getting him banged up in prison again, and he wondered suddenly if the old bastard was up to something. He saw him put a protective arm round Rosie as the other women edged back towards the couch in a huddle.

‘What's going on here?' he demanded of Rosie. ‘Since when have you and Eileen become best friends?'

‘Since we all discovered what a lying, cheating, devious rat you are,' retorted Rosie.

‘You're despicable,' rapped out Eileen, ‘and worth less than the dirt on the bottom of my shoes.'

‘You're a dishonest toerag who should be ashamed to even face us,' said Mary sharply, her face pale with distaste.

‘You're not a man,' hissed a venomous Peggy, ‘but a worm. A low, despicable worm. So why don't you crawl back under your rock and leave decent folk alone?'

He was feeling light-headed and unsteady, and couldn't understand what on earth had made them gang up on him like this when he was so obviously in pain and needing a bit of sympathy. Realising he wouldn't make it as far as the bedroom, he placed the crutches carefully against the arm of the chair, and eased himself into it.

‘That's a bit strong for you, isn't it, Peggy?' he asked lightly.

‘It's Mrs Reilly to you,' she spat. ‘And if I was the sort of woman to use stronger language, believe me, Thomas Findlay, I'd throw the entire dictionary at you.' She looked down at him, arms folded tightly round her skinny waist, her face alight with fury. ‘You have absolutely no idea what's been going on here this afternoon, have you?'

He shook his head and closed his swollen eyelids. ‘I'm sure you're about to tell me,' he said wearily. ‘But make it quick. I've got a splitting headache and your voice is making it worse.'