wasn’t sure he believed her.
She moved back around the table, sat and brought her mug to her lips. It was so normal it eased some of the raging beast inside him.
She glanced up, her eyes clouded. ‘I do hope he hasn’t accused you of something ridiculous like stealing my grandmother’s pearls.’
He sat too. ‘It’s nothing like that.’
‘Good, because I know for a fact that was my father.’
He choked. Father. The word echoed through his mind. Father. Father. Father. In ugly black capitals.
‘And I’m sorry I’ve not tracked you down sooner to give that letter to you, but John died and then my father’s business fell apart and...and I wasn’t sure where to look for you.’
He could see now that she hadn’t wanted to approach Tash to ask how she might find him.
He wasn’t sorry. Not one little bit.
‘But when I heard you were home...’
He dragged a hand down his face before gulping half his coffee in one go. ‘Did he say anything else to you when he gave you this?’ The letter was still balled in his hand.
She reached out as if to swipe her finger through the frosting of one of the cupcakes, but she pulled her hand back at the last moment. ‘He said you might have some questions you’d like to ask me and that he’d appreciate it if I did my best to answer them.’
He coughed back a hysterical laugh. Some questions? All he had were questions.
Her forehead creased. ‘This isn’t about that nonsense when we were ten-year-olds, is it?’
He didn’t understand why she twisted her hands together. She wasn’t the one who’d been hauled to the police station.
‘I tried to tell my parents and the police that I gave the locket to you of my own free will and that you hadn’t taken it. That I gave it to you as a present.’
She stared down into her coffee and something in her face twisted his gut.
‘I thought it was mine to give.’ She said the words so softly he had to strain to catch them. He thought about how she’d handed her apartment, her car and her trust fund all over to her father without a murmur. So why refuse to hand over Whittaker House?
She straightened and tossed back her hair. ‘That was the moment when I realised my possessions weren’t my own.’
But for some reason she felt that Whittaker House was hers?
‘I told them how I wanted to give you something because you’d given me your toy aeroplane.’
It was the only thing he’d had to give her.
‘Which, mind you, I absolutely refused to hand over when they demanded me to.’
That made him laugh.
She met his gaze squarely and there wasn’t an ounce of haughtiness in her face. He sobered. ‘I’ve never had the chance to say it before but, Rick, I’m sorry. My mother and father were so angry. And then the policeman frightened me so much I...I eventually just told them what they wanted to hear. It was cowardly of me and I’m truly sorry if that episode caused a lot of trouble for you.’
It’d caused trouble all right. It was the first time he’d come to the police’s attention. It hadn’t been the last time he’d been labelled a thief, liar and troublemaker by them, though.
They’d just been two kids exchanging treasures and trying to forge a connection. Her father, the police and his background had all conspired to blow it out of proportion.
But none of it had been Nell’s fault and he’d always known that. ‘Don’t sweat it, Princess.’ He used the nickname to remind himself of all the differences between them, to reinforce them.
She sat back, her chin tilted at that unconsciously noble angle that made him want to smile. ‘Don’t worry. I was let off with a caution, but I didn’t know the police had questioned you too.’ The poor kid had probably been terrified. He had been.
She nodded to the letter balled in his hand. ‘But John hasn’t hassled you about any of that?’
He shook his head and her shoulders slumped in relief. She straightened again a moment later. ‘So...do you have any questions?’
She looked as puzzled and bewildered as he felt. He wondered if she was counting down the minutes until this interview ended. Did she find it awkward and wrong for him to be sitting across the table from her? Or did it feel weirdly comfortable?
He shook off the thought and set the crumpled letter on the table and did what he could to smooth it out.
‘I won’t beat around the bush,’ he read, ‘but you might as well know that I’m your father.’
Nell’s mug wobbled back to the table. She stared at him. Her mouth opened and closed. ‘But he chased you away.’ And then her eyes filled.
Rick knew then that she’d had no notion of what John’s letter contained.
He glanced back at the letter and continued reading. ‘I may be better served taking this knowledge to the grave as it’s brought me no joy. I don’t expect it to bring you any either.’
Nell’s intake of breath reverberated in the silence.
‘I have no faith in you.’
Her hands slapped to the table.
‘But you might as well know you have a sibling.’
She practically leapt out of her chair. ‘Who?’ she demanded, and then forced herself back down into her seat. ‘Really?’ She frowned. ‘Older or younger?’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘I think I’m the one who’s supposed to be asking the questions.’
‘Oh, yes, of course.’ She sat back and folded her hands in her lap. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘I’m not going to tell you who it is. If it matters to you then you’ll have to prove it.’
Her jaw dropped. ‘But that’s... How...how can he be so hard and cold? He’s supposed to have looked after you and...’ She swallowed and sat back again. ‘Sorry.’ She smiled, a weak thing that did nothing to hide her turmoil. She made a zipping motion across her mouth.
Rick shrugged. ‘He ends by simply signing it John Cox.’
She shook herself, frowned. ‘I know the questions belong to you, but, Rick, I have no idea how to answer any of them. I haven’t a clue who your sibling could be. I had no idea John was your father. I’ve never seen him with either a woman or a child. I—’
He handed the letter to her. He watched her face as she read the remaining lines. It darkened, which gladdened his heart.
And then it went blank. Rick eased back in his chair and stared
