Penelope’s heart seemed to stop and then deliver a painful thump. ‘My...father?’

  ‘Patrick.’ The name was a curse. ‘A long-haired Irish lout who’d given up his education to be in a band that played in pubs. He was living in a squat, along with his band and their friends—the drug dealers.’

  ‘Oh...’ She could understand how distressing that must have been. What if she had a sixteen-year-old daughter who got in with a bad crowd? A reminder of the anger she’d felt towards Rafe surfaced but this time it was directed at the mother she’d never known. A drug addict. Someone who’d made her parents unhappy and then gone on to abandon her own baby. There was something to be said for the mantra she’d been brought up with. Penelope didn’t want to end up like her mother. No way.

  ‘She threatened to run away and live with the boy if we tried to stop them seeing each other. They were “in love”, she said. They were going to get married and live happily ever after.’ For the first time since she’d started talking, she opened her eyes and looked directly at Penelope. ‘How ridiculous was that? She barely knew him.’

  Penelope had to look away, a confusing jumble of emotions vying for prominence. She barely knew Rafe but there’d been more than one occasion with him when she’d thought there was nowhere else in the world she’d ever want to be. A wave of longing pushed up through the anger. And then there was that hurt again and somewhere in between there was a flash of sympathy for her mother. A connection born of understanding the power of that kind of love?

  ‘Douglas was in the final round of interviews for the new government position. Can you imagine how helpful that would have been? How could anyone think that he could contribute to law and order on a national level when he couldn’t even keep his own house in order? When his daughter was living in a drug den?’

  Penelope was silent. Maybe it could have been a point in his favour. Didn’t a lot of people become doctors because they hadn’t been able to help a loved one? Have the motivation to help because they understood the suffering that could be caused? Look at the way Rafe had been with Billy. He’d known what that boy was going through and he’d had to step up and help, even when it had clearly been difficult for him. There was something fundamentally good about Rafe Edwards. It was hard to believe he would ever do anything to hurt someone else deliberately. She didn’t want to believe it but how could she not, when the evidence was right there in front of her?

  ‘It wasn’t hard to have the house raided with our police connections. Arrests made.’ Louise sounded tired now. ‘There wasn’t anything that the boy or his band friends could be directly charged with but association was enough. They got warned to get out of town and stay out. He was told in no uncertain terms that if he tried to contact Charlotte again, charges could still be laid and they could all find themselves behind bars.’

  ‘So he just left? Even knowing that he was going to be a father?’

  Louise fluttered a hand as if it was unimportant. ‘I don’t imagine he knew. I’m not sure Charlotte knew. Either that or she kept it hidden until it was too late to do anything about it.’

  Somehow this was the most shocking thing she’d heard so far in this extraordinary conversation and the words came out in a gasp.

  ‘An abortion, you mean?’

  She might not have existed at all and that was a weird thought. She would never have known the satisfaction of being successful, doing something she loved. Or felt the pleasures that creating beautiful food or listening to wonderful music could provide. She would never have danced. She would never have experienced the kind of bliss that Rafe had given her, albeit so briefly.

  There was something else she could feel for her mother now. Gratitude at being protected?

  ‘Of course.’ The clipped pronouncement was harsh. ‘Not that your mother would have cooperated. She became extremely...difficult. She stopped eating. Stopped talking. Your grandfather was beside himself. It was the psychiatrist we took her to who guessed she was pregnant.’

  The long silence suggested that the conversation was over as far as Louise was concerned, but Penelope couldn’t leave her story there.

  ‘What happened then?’

  ‘I found a boarding school that specialised in dealing with situations like that. She was to stay there and continue her schooling and then the baby would be adopted.’

  That baby was me. Your grandchild...

  But the agonised cry stayed buried. Instead, Penelope swallowed hard and spoke calmly. ‘Was Grandad happy about that?’

  Louise had her eyes shut again. ‘It was a difficult time for all of us but there was no choice. Not if he wanted that promotion.’

  A promotion that had clearly never happened.

  The silence was even longer this time. Maybe they would hear soon about what was happening with Grandad. No doubt someone would come and talk to them in person but it was an automatic gesture to check her phone. Nothing.

  Except a missed call from Rafe.

  Hours ago now. Well before she’d called him.

  The wash of relief was strong enough to bring the prickle of tears to her eyes. So he had been telling the truth? He had tried to call her? To confess he’d said something he had promised not to and revealed the identity of Baby X?

  But why had those questions Julie had been asking had such an effect? Why was it still such a big deal, given that her grandfather had retired so long? This was only getting more confusing.

  ‘How did I end up at the music festival? Do you know?’

  Louise shrugged. ‘There was a letter that came to the house. From him. Full of ridiculous statements like how he couldn’t live without her. That he’d be at the festival and if she felt the same way she could find him there. I didn’t forward it, of course, but I presume Charlotte found out somehow. She was in the hospital then, instead of the school, so it was probably wasn’t hard to escape.’

  Escape... As though she’d been sent to prison. How hard would it still have been to get away? To take her newborn baby with her?

  Penelope felt the ground shifting beneath her feet. She hadn’t been abandoned. Her mother could have left her at the hospital but she’d taken her. To the festival. To meet her father?

  ‘We got the call later that day to say she was in the intensive care unit. Right here, in almost the same place as Douglas. How ironic is that? It was obvious she’d recently given birth so we had no choice but to make enquiries about what had happened to the baby. It was your grandfather who insisted on bringing you home. You were the only thing that he cared about after Charlotte died. He gave up on his job and he...he blamed me for sending our daughter away...’

  ‘He still did well. He got an OBE.’

  ‘Hardly a knighthood.’

  ‘He’s a well-respected councillor.’

  ‘Not exactly a seat in parliament or a mayoralty, is it? And the passion was never there any more.’ Louise was struggling not to cry again. ‘I tried to make the best of it. We pulled strings and managed to keep the story out of the papers. I did my best for you but the reminders were always there. And now there’s a reporter trying to turn it all into tabloid fodder. Asking questions about why people had been allowed to assume it was a drug overdose when it wasn’t. And it’s all—’

  All what? Her fault? Her own fault? What had caused her mother’s death if it wasn’t a drug overdose? Something that she could have had treated and survived? Had guilt been the poison in her family rather than shame?

  The unfinished sentence was an echo of her call to Rafe. And he probably knew that she’d been about to tell him it was all his fault. But how could Julie have known it hadn’t been a drug overdose? She hadn’t told Rafe that because she hadn’t known herself.

  This was all a huge, horrible mess. And maybe none of it really mattered at the moment, anyway. The door to the room opened quietly to admit the nurse who had brought them here.

  ‘It’s all over,’ she said. ‘And it went very well. Mr Collins is awake now. Would you like to come and see him?’

  Louise seemed incapable of getting up from her chair. She had tears streaming down her face. When she looked at Penelope there was an expression she’d never seen before. A plea that could have been for reassurance that she had just heard what she most wanted to hear.

  Or could it be—at least partly—a plea for forgiveness?

  Penelope held out her hand. ‘Let’s go,’ she said quietly. ‘Grandad needs us.’

  * * *

  ‘So that’s about it. The rehearsal starts at five tomorrow. Let’s all work together and make this a really family-friendly occasion.’

  Rafe glanced at his watch. The meeting of all the key people involved in the organisation and set-up of the Loxbury music festival had filled an impressive section of the town hall. Scruff and Matt were here and he’d noticed Patrick Murphy at the back, no doubt here to find the time his band was expected to turn up for the rehearsal. Surprising how strong the urge still was to seek him out after the meeting and talk to the man who could well be Penelope’s father, but he’d already done enough damage as far as she was concerned and he had no desire to get any more involved.

  It was over. Or it would be, when he could shake this sense of...what was it? He hadn’t done anything wrong in the first place and he hadn’t even tried to contact Penny since she’d hung up on him so why did he feel like he was still doing something wrong? Making a monumental mistake of some kind?

  ‘One other thing...’ The chairman of the festival committee leaned closer to his microphone. ‘We still haven’t made a final decision about the charity that will be supported by the festival. If anyone has any more suggestions, they’ll need to talk to a committee member tonight.’

  Rafe found himself getting to his feet. Raising his arm to signal one of the support crew who’d been providing microphones for the people who’d wanted to ask questions during the briefing.

  ‘I have a suggestion,’ he said, taking hold of the mike.

  ‘And you are?’

  ‘Rafe Edwards. My company is providing the fireworks to finish the festival.’

  A ripple of interest turned heads in his direction. The chairman was nodding. ‘You’ve made a significant contribution to the event,’ he said. ‘Thank you.’

  The applause was unexpected. Unnecessary. Rafe cleared his throat. ‘The message we’ve been hearing to tonight is that you want this to be a family-friendly event. A mini-festival that isn’t a rave for teenagers but something that could become an annual celebration that will bring families together.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘So I have a suggestion for the charity that you might like to consider supporting.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘The Loxbury Children’s Home—Rainbow House—is a facility that this town should be very proud of. It’s changing the lives of the most vulnerable citizens we have—our disadvantaged children—and, with more funding and support, it could do even more good for the community.’

  A murmur of approval came from the crowd and the chairman was nodding again, after exchanging glances with the other committee members on the stage.

  ‘It’s local,’ the chairman said. ‘And it’s about family. It’s certainly a good contender.’ A nod signalled that the evening’s agenda was complete. ‘Thanks, everybody. You’ll find some refreshments in the foyer. I look forward to seeing you all again on Saturday evening. And, Mr Edwards? Come and see me before you go. I’d like to provide some free passes for the children at Rainbow House to come to the festival.’

  Rafe hadn’t intended staying to drink tea or eat any of the cake the Loxbury Women’s Institute was providing, but there seemed to be a lot of people who wanted to shake his hand and tell him how appreciated the contribution of his fireworks show was and what a good idea he’d had for the charity to be supported.

  One of them was Paddy Murphy.

  ‘Kids are everything, aren’t they?’ He smiled. ‘They’re the future. Biggest regret of my life was not having any of my own.’

  Close up for the first time, there was no doubt in Rafe’s mind that this man was Penny’s father. Those liquid brown eyes were familiar enough to twist something in his chest. About where his heart was. But he had to return the friendly smile. Say something casual.

  ‘I’ll probably have the same regret one day.’ Oops. That wasn’t exactly casual, was it? He shrugged. ‘It’s a hard road, finding the right woman, I guess.’

  ‘Oh, I found her.’ The Irish brogue was as appealing as the sincerity in Paddy’s gaze. ‘But then I lost her.’ He slapped Rafe on the shoulder and turned away but then looked back with a shake of his head. ‘Truth be told, that’s really the biggest regret of my life. Always will be.’

  Rafe watched him disappear into the crowd.

  And it was right about then that he realised why he couldn’t shake that nagging feeling of making some huge mistake.

  He knew what that mistake was.

  He just didn’t have any idea of how to fix it.

  CHAPTER TEN

  WHAT ON EARTH was she going to do with all these cakes?

  Chocolate and banana and carrot and red velvet. All iced and decorated and looking beautiful, and Penelope had no desire to eat a bite of any of them. The baking marathon had been therapy. Something comforting to do while she tried to sort through the emotional roller-coaster of the last couple of days.

  She could take one of them in to the hospital for the lovely nurses who were caring for her grandfather so well. Maggie and Dave were always happy to have a cake in the house and her grandmother might like to take one home to help Rita cater for the stream of well-wishers that were turning up at their door. And maybe—the thought came as a gleam of light at the end of a dark tunnel—she could take one to Rafe.

  To say sorry. Of course it couldn’t make things right again but...it would be something, wouldn’t it?

  An excuse to see him one last time, anyway.

  She chose the chocolate cake for the nurses in the cardiology ward of Loxbury General.

  ‘You didn’t need to,’ the nurse manager told her. ‘It’s been a pleasure, caring for your grandad. We’ll be sorry to see him go home tomorrow. But thank you...we love cake.’

  She gave her grandmother the choice of the other cakes.

  ‘Could I take the red velvet? I know your Grandad loved his birthday cake and it was rather delicious.’

  ‘Of course. I’m sorry—I didn’t think to make a Madeira one.’

  ‘Do you know, I think I’m over Madeira. Such a boring cake, when you come to think of it.’

  There was no farewell hug or kiss after handing over the cake but Penelope still felt good. There was something very different about her relationship with her grandmother now. Something that had the promise of getting better. Just like Grandad.

  The smile stayed with her as she drove to Rainbow House. How good had it been to sit and hold Grandad’s hand in the last few days? To talk to him about things they’d never discussed and even to tell him about that extraordinary conversation with her grandmother.

  ‘She did do her best with you, you know. And she does love you, even if she doesn’t let herself admit how much. She got broken by your mother’s death, love. We both did. Nobody’s perfect, you know. We all make mistakes but what really counts is who’s there to hold your hand when it matters.’

  ‘I know.’ It was a poignant thought to realise whose hand she would want to be holding hers in a crisis.

  Only she’d want more than that, wouldn’t she? She’d want her whole body to be held. So that she could feel the way she had when Rafe had held her.

  ‘Loving people carries such a risk of getting hurt, doesn’t it?’ There had been an apology in her grandfather’s voice as he’d patted her hand. ‘Maybe neither of us was as brave as we should have been.’

  Penelope’s smile wobbled now as she turned into a very familiar street. How brave was she?

  Brave enough to take one of those cakes to Rafe’s office? To ask that receptionist if there was a chance that the terribly important chief executive officer of All Light on the Night might have the time to see her?

  Not that he’d be at work this late in the day.

  Maybe it would be better to take the cake to Loxbury Hall? To the place where she had fallen in love with him...

  The place where he’d made her feel loved...

  Phew... Just as well she had a visit to make to Rainbow House first. Some time with Maggie and Dave and the kids was exactly what she needed to centre herself before taking a risk like that.

  How awful would it be if he didn’t want to see her?

  ‘Cake... And it’s not even Sunday.’ Maggie’s hug was as warm as ever. ‘Come in, hon. How’s your grandad?’

  ‘Going home tomorrow. His arteries are full of stents and probably better than they’ve been for a decade or more. Good grief, Maggie...what’s that terrible noise?’

  A naked, giggling toddler trotted past, with Dave in pursuit. ‘I think we have you to thank for that racket.’ He shook his head but he was grinning.

  Charlene’s hair was orange today. She went past with her fingers in her ears.

  ‘I can’t stand it,’ she groaned. ‘Someone tell him to stop.’

  ‘Maggie?’

  ‘Go and see for yourself. Out in the shed.’ Maggie looked at the wet footprints on the hall floor. ‘I’d better give Dave a hand with the baths.’

  Bemused, Penelope put the cake in the kitchen and kept going through the back door to the old shed at the far end of the garden. The noise got steadily louder. A banging and crashing that had to be a set of drums, but they weren’t being played by anyone who knew what they were doing.

  Sure enough, opening the door and stepping cautiously into the cacophony, she saw it was Billy who was surrounded by the drum set. He was giving it everything he had—an expression of grim determination on his face. And then he stopped and the sudden silence was shocking.