The Way We Were_ A Novel - Marcia Willett [115]
‘Probably not, but we've done everything we can do to protect Zack. We can't legislate for every eventuality but we've done the best we can. You can't win with this one, Julia. By keeping your promise to Tiggy you have to keep the truth from Zack.’
‘But supposing he were to find out from someone else? It's like the adoption thing all over again, isn't it? Too soon and it might be damaging; too late and someone else might get in first. But this time I really feel I have no choice.’
‘If Cat hadn't jumped the gun, you and Pete would have told Zack he was adopted when you judged that he was old enough to deal with it, and maybe one day you will be able to tell him about this too, but there are times when the truth is better left untold. This is one of them.’
There was a little silence.
‘When I was out there on Glebe Cliff,’ Julia said, ‘I remembered the day we went there together, me and Tiggy and the children. It was such a wonderful day and we were all so happy.’
She fell silent and Em got up and went round the table to her. She put her arm about Julia's shoulders and laid her cheek against her head.
‘My poor darling,’ she said compassionately. ‘What a week it's been. I think the worst is over now. I'll make the tea and then we'll phone Liv and tell her that they're safe and ask her to send an email to Andy. After that you could text a message to Pete to tell him he's about to become a grandfather for the third time.’
They watched the news; silent in shocked horror at the images of the Boscastle flooding. The scene was one of devastation: the swollen river, with trees and rocks jammed in its roaring throat, and a bright red car that bobbed like a Dinky toy and wedged upended, lights still on, beneath the bridge; a father with his daughter, clinging together in mid-air, rescued from the rooftops by helicopter; a caravan, fragile as a cardboard box, bouncing backwards on the floodtide. The noise was terrific: the thundering of water and the thrashing of helicopter rotor blades, the shouting urgent voice of the reporter.
‘There were two miracles last night,’ Em was to say the next morning to Liv. ‘One was that no lives were lost in the Boscastle flood and the other was Zack's baby.’
Zack phoned at a quarter to seven whilst they were still watching the news. His voice was jubilant.
‘It's a little girl. Seven pounds two ounces. She's lovely and Caroline's fine.’
‘Oh, Zack.’ Julia could barely speak for relief. ‘Oh, thank God.’ She made joyful signs to Em. ‘And Caroline's really OK?’
‘She did wonderfully well and she's so excited. She's spoken to her mother and they're travelling down tomorrow. She's resting now but if you want to come in to see her she says that she'd love to see you, Mum. The staff sister says that'll be all right but just you for this first visit and not for too long, if that's OK.’
On the journey into Plymouth Julia could still feel Tiggy beside her but this time there was no tension. With Zack's news all the doubts and fears of the last week had miraculously vanished, and Julia was filled with an exhilarating mixture of peace and excitement.
‘Our granddaughter,’ she murmured aloud to Tiggy as she turned north on to the A30. ‘Yours and mine. That's how I feel about her because Zack is yours and mine, isn't he? It was hard to begin with, because I resented losing my own baby and I'd imagine you were watching and feeling sad because I found it so difficult. But it wasn't because I didn't love him, you know that. It was just because I was always fighting the guilt and the sadness, and each time I looked at Zack those feelings resurfaced. And then, that day with Angela, I knew that it was different. My grief for my own baby and my love for Zack could be separate.