Page 64 of Tangled Roses

“More of the same, I hope.”

She nods. “That can be arranged.”

As soon as she says the words, the light in her eyes dims a little and she whispers, “I’ve had a sad morning. Your, um, visit was a welcome distraction.”

“Tell me about it.”

She sighs and lies back on my chest and I rub circles on her back as she whispers, “It was hard reading my grandmother’s words. It was as if she was sitting beside me and telling me. I mean, I could hear her voice speaking her words and remember the small expressions on her face as she said them. It was hard because that’s all I have. My memories and there will be no new ones.”

My heart lurches because I share the same experience and I hate not being able to call my father and ask his advice on something I’m struggling with. It didn’t happen very often, but when I needed him, he was always there for me. Now I have my brothers. I suppose I always did, which means I’m better off than Ellie because now all she has is me.

“What did you read?”

I’m mildly curious, and she sighs. “It was before I was born and my mother was away at school. It was strange reading her thoughts on paper, unraveling their relationship through stricken sentences rather than hearing them. She sounds so worried in the diaries, which may give a false impression.”

“Worried about what?”

“Marsha mainly. You see, they never had any money. Like my mother, my grandmother was a single mother. My grandfather passed shortly before Marsha left for Switzerland, and it never occurred to me that my grandmother lost everything at the same time. She was so lonely and struggling to do the right thing and for all her strength in my life, she exposes her vulnerability in these pages.”

“You say she was worried. Does she say why?”

I’m listening carefully because Switzerland was where she met my mother and my father’s mistress. I’m also aware that Adele Heatherington was part of their friendship group, courtesy of a photograph Valentin found in Veronica Scott-Stanley’s things.

It’s as if we are tripping through the past using an old woman’s memories to guide us and it will be interesting to unravel the link between them.

Ellie sighs. “They never had money. We were quite a poor family by anyone’s standards, but Marsha was clever, really clever and won a scholarship to Switzerland and my grandmother was worried that she wouldn’t fit in among the rich kids.”

“I see.”

I kiss the top of her head and she says sadly, “My grandmother was desperate for news from Switzerland. There were endless entries wondering when she would hear from her daughter, who, surprise, surprise, wasn’t very good at keeping in touch. Months passed with no word and then one day she arrived home unexpectedly.”

I say nothing and let Ellie speak because this is an interesting delve into the past that somehow connects to the present.

Ellie peers up and stares deep into my eyes and says with a catch to her voice, “She was pregnant. With me.”

CHAPTER 39

ELLIE

Reading the diaries was not an easy task, and at first, I felt empathy for Marsha, but as I continued, I discovered her true deceitful nature. To protect my heart and form a wall around emotion, I say dully, “She told my grandmother she’d left it too late to terminate the pregnancy, but she had no time to care for a child. That she had come home to have her baby and my grandmother must make the necessary arrangements to put me up for adoption.”

I sniff as the pain squeezes my heart. “It appears that Marsha never wanted me at all, but my grandmother did.”

“Why wouldn’t she?” Arman says with a fierce determination that makes me smile.

“Yes. I am rather fantastic, after all.”

I tease to lighten the atmosphere, but the ache that has always been there in my heart is tearing the scars apart and I bite my lip to stop it from trembling.

“Marsha left for New York soon after I was born. My grandmother didn’t know where she got the money, or where she was going because Marsha wouldn’t answer her questions. She said she was staying with a woman called Adele Heatherington and not to worry. Just to deal with her mistake, as she put it, and make sure I was gone before she returned.”

I gulp back the tears. “I hate her.”

“We hate her.”

Arman sounds so angry it causes me to chuckle despite the emotions the entries have stirred up. We. That one word holds so much meaning, and I savor the ripple of pleasure it creates. I has become we and I never appreciated how amazing that word could be.

“The rest of the entries were about me. My first smile, word, you know the kind of thing. It appears that my mother disappeared from both our lives until I was about five years old. Luckily, my grandmother had legally adopted me by then because of Marsha’s criminal activities.”