The Four of Us (58 page)

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Authors: Margaret Pemberton

BOOK: The Four of Us
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‘I don't remember her surname offhand, but she was a pretty little thing. When she left here she went to York to train as a nursery care assistant. Just hold the line, Mrs Dove, and I'll have a quick zip through our files.'

Primmie dropped the pen she had been writing with, her heart beginning to slam like a piston. Could the woman be referring to Destiny?
Her
Destiny? But how could her Destiny have gone on to train as a nursery care assistant if she had learning difficulties? She remembered Artemis's adamant assertion that Destiny had only been a slow learner, nothing more. A nursery care assistant wouldn't need to be a high achiever. She would need a love of children and a caring nature more than scholastic ability. With the telephone pressed hard against her ear, she closed her eyes. ‘Please!' she whispered, with all the fervour with which she had prayed in church for Geraldine. ‘Please. Please.
Please!'

She could hear drawers being opened and closed and folders being rustled. She tried to steady her breathing, and couldn't. For the first time ever, she was meeting with a hopeful reaction – and an incurious one. If Rydal Hall had information on anyone with the name Destiny, she was going to be told it.

‘Yes, here it is,' the woman said cheerily, oblivious to the cataclysmic importance of her response. ‘Destiny was with us until 1989, when she went to Chalgrove, a residential children's home in York, as a trainee nursery care assistant.'

‘Her surname?' Primmie said, her throat so tight it was a miracle she was able to speak at all.

‘I remember thinking at the time that she'd be very good with small children. Certainly the younger children here loved her and we were all very sorry to see her leave.'

‘Her surname?'

‘It was nice to think, too, that she'd been so happy at Rydal she wanted to work somewhere similar. That was very gratifying, we all thought.'

Primmie sucked in her breath, about to scream,
‘For the love of God! What was her surname?'
but was saved at the last second as the woman continued fondly, ‘Destiny Gower was a little ray of sunshine. Everyone at Rydal thought so. Unfortunately, we've lost contact with her. When you next see her, Mrs Dove, please give her our best wishes.'

It was totally beyond Primmie to be able to correct the bursar's misunderstanding, to ask further questions or to finish the conversation in any adequate way.

She simply dropped the telephone, covered her face with her hands and wept tears of relief and joy. For eleven years Destiny had been in care at Rydal Hall in Yorkshire – and had been happy there. And from there she'd gone on to train as a nursery care assistant at Chalgrove, a residential home in York. Which is where she might still be. The enormity of what she had discovered in one, not very long, telephone conversation overwhelmed her. She knew she should get straight on the telephone to Artemis, but she couldn't do it. She was shaking too much.

Eleven years of her daughter's life were now no longer a mystery to her – and even if Destiny were no longer at Chalgrove, Chalgrove would surely know her next place of employment, for they would have had to supply references. Though she hadn't yet found Destiny, she was well on the way to doing so. Perhaps only hours from doing so. With tears of joy still streaming down her face, she finally managed to steady her hands enough to be able to punch in the gallery's phone number.

When Artemis answered the phone she said without preamble, ‘Artemis! Oh, Artemis! I've found the home Rupert left Destiny in! It's called Rydal Hall and it's in Yorkshire. And Artemis, darling Artemis, Destiny was
happy
there and you were quite right. She wasn't severely handicapped. She couldn't be, for when she was sixteen she went to a residential home in York to train as a nursery care assistant.'

There was a gasp from the other end of the line.

‘The home in York is called Chalgrove. I don't think she's still there, because the bursar at Rydal Hall said they'd lost contact with her. But if she did her nursery care assistant training there, they would have supplied references for wherever she moved on to. We're only a smidgeon away from finding her, Artemis. And, according to the bursar at Rydal, she was happy despite all the awfulness of what happened to her. Isn't that just the most wonderful relief? And she's working, just like any normal young woman. It's such fantastic news I don't think I've truly taken it all in yet. I've never been so happy. Never. Never. Never.'

There came the sound of Artemis stumbling to her feet. ‘I must tell Hugo,' she said, her voice no longer competent and assured but almost in coherent. ‘I must tell Hugo and then I'm coming straight over to Ruthven.'

Seconds later Primmie phoned Matt, then Geraldine, and then Kiki on her mobile. Then, armed with Chalgrove's number from directory enquiries, she rang Chalgrove, her heart in her mouth.

‘Don't get despondent just because she's no longer there and they were unable to help,' Matt said gently to her that evening. He rose from the sofa they were sitting on and put another log on the fire. ‘It was, after all, pretty unlikely that she‘d still be at Chalgrove fourteen years after beginning to train and work there.'

‘Yes, I know, but I expected them to be able to tell me where her next place of employment was.'

‘It's fourteen years ago, Primmie.' Matt sat beside her again, slipping his arm comfortingly round her shoulders. ‘Chalgrove is a children's home, not M15. Though they would have given Destiny references when she left, they would have no reason to keep a record of them, nor of whom they were given to.'

‘Yes. You're right.' She took hold of his hand, giving it a squeeze. ‘I'm wrong to feel disappointed when everything is so wonderful. We know now where she spent the years from five to sixteen. We know where she was living and training until she was eighteen. We know what surname she is known by. We know the kind of work she does. We know the area of England she thinks of as home. It's just a question of more telephone calls, isn't it? My beautiful eldest daughter is out there, living a normal life but thinking she has no family, and soon she's going to have more family than she could ever imagine.'

‘That's true.' Matt's well-shaped mouth tugged into a smile. ‘A natural mother, an adoptive mother, two half-brothers, three half-sisters and two adoptive half-brothers.'

‘And another half-sister. You're forgetting Kiki. Until a few months ago, Kiki lived her life believing herself to be an only child – and an only child without children of her own. When we find Destiny, it's going to have a huge impact on her life.'

Matt gave a chuckle. ‘You've had a huge impact on mine,' he said wryly. ‘A year ago, almost my only social contact was a weekly drink with Hugo. Now I'm surrounded by the most extraordinary collection of friends. Geraldine – who even when ill looked as if she'd just stepped out of
Vogue
and is certainly the only woman in this part of Cornwall to go shopping in a silver Ferrari. Kiki, who I can safely state is like no one else I've ever met before. Artemis, who, next to you, is possibly the sweetest, kindest woman in the whole world and is a perfect soulmate for Hugo. The only thing is, they do rather cramp our style, don't they, dear love? Finding private time together is becoming a nightmare. It would be much easier if we were married.'

‘Is this a proposal?'

He put a finger beneath her chin, turning her head so that he could look into her eyes. ‘It most certainly is,' he said solemnly. ‘Will you marry me, Primmie Dove? Will you continue to make my life interesting and full of fun?'

She giggled. ‘There's nothing I would like better, Matt Trevose. But can we keep our intentions to ourselves until we find Destiny? When we make our announcement, I want all my children to be happy for me – and that includes Destiny.'

He nodded assent, drawing her closer. ‘We'll find her soon,

Primmie, I promise.' And then, a very happy man, he lowered his

head to hers.

Matt wasn't a man who would ever break a promise and, as preparations for Artemis and Hugo's wedding grew ever more fevered, Primmie, Artemis and Kiki spent every spare second telephoning children's homes in Yorkshire, certain that the promise was about to be fulfilled.

Day after day, they drew a blank.

‘I've engaged a private detective,' Geraldine said from Paris in one of her daily telephone calls. ‘He says with all the information we already have, it will be a piece of cake.'

It wasn't. By the fourth week of April, there was still no new lead.

Conscious of the children she hadn't lost, but whom she saw far too little of, she rang Joanne, Millie and Josh. ‘There's to be a wedding at Ruthven on the first of May, and though it's not my wedding I want you all be to be here. It's an opportunity for a family get together and Cornwall is magic in May. Husbands and partners are invited as well, and this time I'm not taking no for an answer!'

To her-great satisfaction, they'd all turned up trumps and said yes.

Adding to the frenetic activity of the wedding preparations were the telephone calls now being made to Ruthven from the many children's homes and organizations that Primmie had contacted months and months earlier, when she'd made her decision to offer disadvantaged children holidays by the sea.

With only a week to go until the 1st of May, Primmie overheard Kiki saying to one such caller, ‘Next weekend?
Next weekend?
That's far too little time and, besides, we couldn't do those dates even if we'd had proper advance warning. I'm sorry. Later in the year, perhaps.'

When she'd put the phone down, Primmie said curiously, ‘Who was that?'

‘The Claybourne Children's Home. They've been let down by another holiday home and want to bring six five-year-olds down on Saturday, Artemis's wedding day. I told them it wasn't on.'

‘Would it be so disruptive?' Primmie paused in her task of setting the table for lunch. ‘We're all organized for the wedding now and the children will be sleeping in the new dormitory in the barn, not the house, so it won't encroach on the guest-room situation.'

‘And that isn't acute,' Artemis chipped in, busy drizzling a vinaigrette on the green salad that was to accompany cheese omelettes. ‘Orlando and Sholto have arranged to stay at the Tregenna Castle Hotel in St Ives, and Josh is staying at Matt's.'

‘As are Joanne and her husband,' Primmie added, thrilled to bits at the close relationship that was growing between some of her children and the man she knew she would soon be marrying.

‘Which leaves a guest room here for Lucy, when she arrives – which she should be doing any moment,' Artemis continued. ‘And if Geraldine shares a room with Primmie, as she did for ages when it was the four of us here, it means there's room at Ruthven for Francis, as well.'

‘And when are Geraldine and Francis getting here?' Kiki asked, pouring herself a healthy slug of red wine.

‘Later today. Perhaps tomorrow.'

‘And so we could have the Claybourne children here next week,' Primmie said, bringing the three-way conversation back to its beginning. ‘And it would be rather nice starting off the holiday year with children from a home we already know. Rose was lovely and she'll have news of the children who came in September.'

‘Shall I ring the Claybourne back, then?' Kiki asked, the phone still in her hand.

‘Yes.' Primmie turned her attention to the omelettes. ‘And tell whoever it is you speak to about the wedding. Tell them that it would be wonderful if the children arrived on Saturday in time for it.'

Chapter Thirty-One

The last few days before the wedding were days of arrivals. At ten in the morning Primmie answered the telephone and found herself speaking to her dearly beloved youngest daughter.

‘Hi, Mum!' Lucy said, fizzing with high spirits. ‘I'm at Helston station and I have someone with me. I hope you don't mind. If there isn't enough room at the house, he can bunk up at a nearby hotel.'

‘I don't mind at all, and he can stay here until Saturday, when I have half a dozen children coming to stay. Is your friend someone you met in California?'

‘He is, and Jon isn't just a friend, he's my boyfriend.' She gave a happy giggle. ‘You can think of him as my fiancé, Mum, because though he doesn't know it yet, he's going to marry me. Can you come and pick us up, or is there a bus we can catch from here to Ruthven?'

‘There's a bus from Helston to Calleloe, but there's no need for you to catch it. I'll be down to pick you up in twenty minutes.'

‘Great stuff. What are you driving these days? Do you still have your old banger?'

‘I do, but I won't be driving it.' Giggles that were an exact replica of her daughter's rose in her throat. ‘I'll be driving a silver Ferrari.'

‘Of course you can take the Ferrari,' Geraldine said minutes later when, rather belatedly, she asked if this were possible. ‘I changed the insurance so that you could use it while I was in Paris. You did take advantage of the arrangement, didn't you, Primmie?'

‘I did the shopping in it a couple of times, but felt that my headscarf and Barbour let it down.'

Geraldine made a sound of exasperation and Primmie, overcome with love for her, hugged her. ‘God, I'm so glad you're back here, fit and well,' she said, thickly.

‘Me too,' Geraldine said with profound sincerity. ‘Now off you go to be reunited with your world-travelling daughter. If the Ferrari doesn't impress her, nothing will.'

When she swooped to a halt outside Helston Station, attracting attention from passing motorists and pedestrians alike, Lucy whooped with disbelief and delight.

‘What a
wicked
car!' she said, abandoning rucksacks and a tall young man and rushing towards her. ‘Oh gosh, Mum! I've missed you so much! It's
great
to be home – even if the location has changed! Which of your friends does this car belong to? Is it Kiki's?'

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