Olivia murmurs her agreement, then turns her back on the pretence of raking Roxie’s bed. She waits until she hears her mother’s retreating footsteps before leaving the safety of the stable.
Mel’s loud, posh voice instructing the clients to do a rising trot carries on the wind as Olivia heads to the office. She’s just in time to see her mother’s old Land Rover pulling out of the driveway. Something sad and melancholy opens inside her as she sits behind the desk with the diary spread in front of her. She should feel … not happy exactly. How can she be happy when she’s just found out she has a criminal for a father? But intrigued, certainly. Yet she feels apathetic to the notion she has a father who’s living and breathing and in the vicinity, wanting to meet her. It just feels like another piece of armour weighing her down.
The sound of tyres over gravel makes her sit up straighter, expectantly. Is that him? She feels sick. She doesn’t know if she’s ready for this. But it’s Jenna who appears in the doorway, her cheeks red, her beautiful copper-coloured hair windswept.
Despite everything Olivia is pleased to see her and can’t stop the smile spreading across her face. Her first genuine smile since she heard the news about her dad.
‘Have you got time for a coffee?’ Jenna asks, as she strides into the office with a confidence that Olivia envies.
Olivia tries not to look too delighted to have this welcome interruption to her relentless negative thoughts. Mel will be at least another forty-five minutes with her class. ‘Sure.’ She collects the two ugly red Nescafé mugs from the side and pours them both an instant coffee. She remembers that Jenna likes hers black.
Jenna takes it gratefully and sits opposite Olivia, blowing on the coffee. There’s a fan in the corner chugging out warm air but it doesn’t do much to heat the room. ‘How are you feeling now?’
‘A bit more human, thanks to this,’ Olivia says raising her coffee mug, which is a lie. Tears well up every time she thinks about her father.
Jenna suddenly looks uncomfortable and keeps fidgeting on the chair. ‘I do need to tell you something, though,’ she says, making Olivia’s heart sink. ‘I’ve … I’ve … God, I don’t know how to say this.’
‘What?’
Olivia listens intently as Jenna tells her about Samuel Molina and John-Paul. ‘This John-Paul has a scar down the side of his face, Olivia. I think the man with the scar you saw in the days leading up to the accident is him. I think John-Paul could be your father.’
Terror rises in Olivia, making her feel hot and cold at the same time.
The man with the scar is John-Paul Molina? Her father?
And then, despite promising her mother she wouldn’t, she tells Jenna everything she’s learnt today.
‘Wow,’ says Jenna, after she’s finished.
‘I wonder if my mum knows his brother is looking for him.’
Jenna appears to think about this. ‘Maybe,’ she says eventually. ‘It does seem strange that he arrived last night and she chooses this time to tell you all about your father.’
‘But how did she find out he’s back?’ Olivia sighs. So many more questions. She shouldn’t have run out on her mum. She should have stayed and listened to what she had to say. ‘And why was he following me in the days leading up to the accident? Why didn’t he just come over and tell me who he was? Urgh.’ She pushes the diary away from her in a sudden burst of anger. ‘I’m so fucked off with this.’
Jenna casts her eyes down. ‘I’m sorry,’ she says.
‘It’s not your fault. Thank you for telling me.’ Tears spring again to Olivia’s eyes. ‘I’m worried my dad has something to do with the accident. If he’s the man with the scar I saw in the white van …’ She swallows. She almost said too much. She tries to remember the details of her conversation with her mother earlier. ‘Mum said he went to prison. But I’m not sure when.’
‘It was in 1980,’ says Jenna, gently. ‘Dale told me earlier. For possession of class-A drugs. I think he was there for eighteen years.’
Olivia sits up straighter, confused. ‘No, that’s not what my mum said. She said he went to prison for killing someone.’
‘Killing someone?’ There is alarm in Jenna’s voice. ‘Who? Who did he kill?’
Before Olivia can answer she sees a shadow at the door and her mother is standing there, her arms crossed in front of her chest and a strange expression on her face.
‘You might as well know,’ she says, and Olivia almost wants to laugh at the shock on Jenna’s face as she swivels towards the figure in the doorway.
‘He killed Derreck, the man I loved.’
44
The Lovers
They’d fallen asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, naked, with just a sheet draped over their bottom halves. She’d barely had time to open her eyes, to stretch, to realize where she was when she heard shouting from below Derreck’s room. Stace felt Derreck stir beneath her and her heart twisted when she realized the shouting must be John-Paul. She hadn’t wanted him to find out this way. She felt Derreck’s arm tighten around her and she levered herself up onto her elbow and looked into his deep aquamarine eyes. ‘I don’t regret anything,’ she whispered. ‘Whatever happens next.’
His face was intense, his gaze not leaving hers. ‘Neither do I. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. That was the best night of my life.’
She kissed his face softly. How could it be that she was falling in love with a man she’d known for just over a week?
And then John-Paul burst into the room, fully dressed, his hair standing on end and one side of his face creased, as though he’d not long woken up. He was closely followed by Griff and Trevor.
‘I fucking knew it!’ he yelled. ‘I knew something was going on between you two. You,’ he pointed at Stace, who cowered in the bed, the sheet up to her chin. ‘Do you think I didn’t know you were sneaking off every night? And you,’ he turned to Derreck, ‘you’re supposed to be my mate.’ He made a sound like a wounded animal that pierced right through Stace’s heart. She felt like the worst person in the world. The very worst. She never meant to hurt him. Derreck inched closer to her.
John-Paul covered his face with his arms as though he was trying to protect himself physically from the scene before him and moaned. Griff and Trevor stood awkwardly in the doorway. And then there was the sound of bare feet slapping on marble as the others ran into the room and Maggie gently steered John-Paul away. ‘Come on,’ she said softly. ‘They’re not worth it. Let’s leave them a moment …’ She shot Stace such a look of disgust it broke her heart nearly as much as John-Paul’s distress. They all trooped out, their bodies surrounding John-Paul like a human shield, Trevor only stopping to glare before slamming the door behind them, their silent disapproval echoing around the room even after they’d left.
Stace’s mouth went dry as the horror of what had just happened hit her. ‘Oh, God,’ she said, scrambling out of bed and pulling on yesterday’s dress. ‘I shouldn’t have fallen asleep. I should have told him rather than him finding out like this …’