A Sense of Discovery(a Gripping Psychological Suspense Novel) Read online

  ‘This is no good, is it Deel? I’ll have to think twice about what we do next,’ he conceded.

  ‘Well, that’s up to you, but if I were you I’d be very wary about what I did from now on. You have your family to consider. Ask yourself if it’s worth putting yourself and me through this.’

  ‘I realise that. But I’ll never find my folks if I can’t talk to Simpson. Why are they trying to stop us? It’s not as though I’m after their money.’

  ‘Well, they don’t know that. But I think it’s much deeper than that, there’s got to be more to this than just money, and you could make a lot of trouble for yourself if you carry on.’

  ‘Perhaps I should go it alone. That way if anyone’s going to get hurt it’ll be me.’

  Delia couldn’t believe he’d said this. Very noble but also very stupid. ‘Even if you were to go it alone, I’d be affected. If something happened to you, what would I do?’

  ‘Ok, I have to think about where I go from here. But there’s nothing more to be done here, so in the meantime, seeing as we’ve got another full day left of the holiday we may as well go and visit a few of the sights.’

  ‘I couldn’t agree more. I’ve had enough stress just lately to last me a lifetime,’ she told him, but she knew deep down this might be something he couldn’t leave alone.

  <><><>

  That evening in their room, Garry mulled over all the events of the day. It would be hard to accept he couldn’t take his search for his parents any further, and questioned whether he should have done things differently? To go back home now and lead a normal life would seem very flat after the kick he’d got from trying to find his family. But in the end, he might have to face the fact that his hopes of being reunited with his parents had been doomed from the start.

  ‘All right?’ Delia asked him moving up close as they lay in bed.

  ‘Ok, I suppose. A bit disappointed but well, it’s not the end of the world, is it?’

  ‘Of course not. We’ve still got much to be thankful for and a lot to look forward to together.’

  ‘I hope so,’ he agreed. ‘It’s just that it would have been nice to meet my mother and father. I’d like to hear what they’ve got to say – the reason why I was adopted, and for them to get to know us.’

  ‘Forget about it darling, it’s not worth it,’ she said kissing him on the lips.

  Suddenly Garry heard his phone beep, a text had been sent. He got up thinking it must be Tom or Cassie enquiring how they’d got on with the mysterious Isaac Simpson.

  Reluctantly he switched on the lamp on the bedside table, picked up the phone next to it, and then reading the message gasped with surprise.

  Chapter Ten

  Hi Garry,

  I’m sorry about all the trouble I’ve caused you. Now I realise how important this is to you, please allow me to make amends. I’m willing to meet you at the Hotel Rivage, tomorrow at 4 pm. We can talk and I’ll tell you everything. Please wear something white so I can recognise you, and wait for me in the foyer.

  Regards

  Isaac Simpson.

  ‘Jesus, Delia, you’re not going to believe this…’ he began.

  ‘What now? Is Cassie pregnant again, or is it Jane this time?’

  ‘No, no, no, nothing like that – you’re way off track. It’s Isaac Simpson – he’s sent me a message. Says he’s sorry for the trouble he caused, and wants to put things right by meeting us tomorrow at four o’clock.’

  Garry handed the phone to Delia so she could read the text message for herself. From the look on her face, she was totally flabbergasted.

  ‘Well, that’s strange.’

  ‘So what do you make of it?’

  ‘Hard to say. Seems funny that he should change his mind yet again.’

  ‘He probably had a pang of conscience after what that moron did to me at his house, and now he feels he has to make up for it. So shall we go?’

  ‘Mm, I don’t know. If tonight was anything to go on I’d say Mr Simpson isn’t allowed to think for himself. From the way that layabout acted it would be foolish to assume the message actually came from Mr Simpson. On the other hand, I suppose it’ll be quite safe to meet in a public place. But it may be better if we treat any dealings with him with caution. And if he doesn’t turn up this time or there’s some other mishap let’s forget about it – all right?

  ‘I’d stake my life on it, he knows who my parents are,’ Garry said.

  ‘That’s as maybe, but I have a feeling it won’t be Mr Simpson who’s doing the talking tomorrow; if he’s even there that is.’

  ‘I can see where you’re coming from, but we’ll have to wait and see.’

  ‘Sorry Garry, to be so negative, but so far nothing’s gone as we thought it would, and I’d hate for you to be let-down again.’

  <><><><>

  Luckily, meeting Mr Simpson late in the afternoon at the Hotel Rivage situated a few hundred yards away from where they were staying, would give them ample time to spend a leisurely morning. Garry wanted to visit Liberation Square, someone at work had mentioned it last week, a tribute harking back to the island’s emancipation in May 1945. This would no doubt be followed by more shopping and a midday meal.

  At two thirty they returned to the hotel for a shower and change of clothes. Not having a white shirt Garry chose to wear a white and grey tee-shirt, while Delia wore the white blouse she’d bought that day.

  By three forty-five they were sitting in the foyer of the Hotel Rivage, tentatively waiting for Isaac to arrive.

  As four o’clock approached, Garry observed every person either leaving or arriving at the hotel. And as time wore on he stood up each time someone entered to emphasise his white and grey top – all his efforts, however, were unsuccessful. But when the clock above the reception desk struck four the swing doors opened and in strode a fair-haired young woman, slim and immaculately dressed.

  From her stance and the way she looked around, she’d obviously arranged to meet someone. Wearing a short navy skirt and a white blouse that showed a hint of her ample cleavage, she would easily have stood out from any crowd.

  Then her eyes rested on them and she made her way over, Garry guessed this woman must be connected to Isaac Simpson.

  ‘Hallo, Garry, I presume.’ She spoke in a soft cultured voice bearing no hint of any particular accent.

  Garry’s heartbeat quickened and for a second or two, he sat there gobsmacked, staring into her beautiful blue eyes. Then she turned saying, ‘And this must be Delia, your wife. Yes?’

  ‘Yes,’ Delia replied. ‘But who are you and how do you know our names?’

  The young woman smiled emphasising her high cheekbones and flawless complexion. ‘May I join you?’

  ‘But we’re waiting for someone…!’ Garry protested.

  ‘Ah, you mean Isaac. Sorry but he can’t make it. He’s frail and old, and feels a bit under the weather, so he sent me in his place.’

  By this time Garry had found his voice and said a little perturbed, ‘And why aren’t I surprised you turned up in his place. But never mind. Tell me, what are you to Isaac Simpson?’

  ‘My name is Charlene. I’m a very good friend of Isaac’s. And I also have the good fortune to represent a mutual friend of ours.’

  ‘Listen, Charlene, we thought we were going to meet Mr Simpson here today. You see when I was three years old he saved my life and as I can barely remember it he said he’d fill me in on what took place.’

  ‘Garry, I can understand you being grateful to Isaac, as is my friend, but the fact that he saved your life is of no consequence here – the circumstances surrounding it are much more important.’

  ‘Too bloody right,’ Garry snapped. ‘What happened in Montriga, for some unknown reason led to me being adopted, and taken out of the country. And…’

  But Delia cut in and coming straight to the point, asked, ‘Do you know something about this, Charlene, or not? We’ve been given the run around long, enough.’

  ‘I
n a roundabout way. Although I’m just a go-between and I’ve been instructed to bring you and another party together.’

  ‘Oh yes, and what other party would that be?’ Garry asked, his blood rising.

  ‘Your mother of course, but I’m sorry to say I don’t have any information at all about your father. You’ve made it very clear how determined you are to find your parents. So much so that your mum is now willing to allow you to meet her.’

  ‘Dear God, what kind of person is she? What you’re really saying is she’s only agreed to meet me under protest!’ Garry’s anger rose in his chest as he said the words.

  ‘It’s not like that.’

  ‘Well, it sounds very much that way. But why the secrecy?’ Delia asked, raising her eyebrows. ‘And why on a couple of occasions have we met with aggression for just trying to get some information.’

  Charlene smiled at this. ‘I am sorry about that but there were reasons, Delia, good reasons, believe me. You see Garry’s adoptive parents were instructed never to reveal his true identity, but as you know that agreement was broken. At first, my client did everything in her power to stop Garry from finding out who his parents are. However, it became clear that eventually the truth would come out. And that’s where I come in. I was instructed to contact you. You see had her identity become common knowledge the consequences could have been very damning.’

  ‘But what’s there to hide after all these years. Why feel so strongly about keeping the truth from me?’

  ‘Sorry, Garry, but I can’t tell you at present and anyway I don’t have the full facts. But she has agreed to meet you – if that’s what you want.’

  ‘You know damn well it is,’ Garry said seething.

  ‘Yes, so shall I go ahead and make the arrangements?’ Charlene was smiling as she said this.

  Garry looked at Delia, and she at him.

  ‘It’s up to you Garry. If you want to meet her, I’ll come with you – I’d be glad to.’

  ‘In that case, we’ll go.’

  ‘That’s settled then. Although I must add my client will feel a little ill at ease with the situation. She never thought to be in this position after so many years. And I should mention, because of how sensitive the matter is she’s insisted on confidentiality. But it’s nothing you need worry yourselves about.’

  ‘So all we have to do is wait to hear from you?’

  ‘Yes, I’ll get back to you when the arrangements have been made. Maybe contact you at home?’

  ‘That’s fine. Do you want my home address and phone number?

  ‘Garry, as you’ve made no secret of your desire to find your parents, I already have this information.’

  ‘I see. I find it rather alarming to think someone’s been delving into my personal details, without my knowledge.’

  But she chose not to answer that and said, ‘Right, we’ll leave it there, shall we? And I look forward to seeing you both again very soon.’

  Then after shaking their hands she was gone leaving Garry and Delia in a state of bewilderment.

  ‘Delia, can you believe what’s just happened?’

  ‘I’m stunned, I really am,’

  ‘I wonder just what we’re letting ourselves in for. I might as well face it – my mother didn’t really want to meet me. But the driving force now is to know why? And what’s at the back of this? Do you think she,’ he motioned towards where Charlene was leaving, ‘was telling the truth?’

  ‘Well, she sounded genuine, and it seemed plausible – but there’s only one way we’ll find out for sure, isn’t there?’

  ‘Suppose so – so we’ll go for it, shall we?’

  She nodded in agreement and started to smile.

  <><><>

  Back in their hotel room, Garry was unable to think of anything else – just when it seemed impossible, his luck had changed, and now it appeared he’d finally be able to unravel the mystery. He felt a little miffed if not hurt, by what Charlene had said, his mother wasn’t exactly falling over herself to meet him. Although the more he thought about it, it didn’t matter, thus far he’d had a happy life without her.

  ‘I wonder who she is?’ Garry mused. ‘A politician perhaps, eminent scientist, successful business woman, sports personality, film star, why the list is endless.’

  ‘You could drive yourself, or me, mad thinking about it.’

  ‘Or she might even be royalty,’ Garry mocked, hardly hearing what she’d said.

  Delia put her hand in front of her mouth. ‘Come on Prince Garry, let’s wait and see, shall we?’

  ‘Wait until the kids find out – they’ll be so curious.’

  ‘Let’s keep it to ourselves, shall we? Well, we can phone Tom and Cassie, say we’ve made some progress, but that we’ll fill them in when we get back.’

  ‘Whatever you say.’

  <><><>

  The rest of their short break in Jersey from then on became a blur to Garry, as he continually surmised, in his mind’s eye, what his mother was like and where she lived. But the question which was seldom from his thoughts and which had driven him to his obsessive search being – why? Why had they allowed him to be adopted?

  On their arrival back in Dexford, Tom and Cassie were keen to hear of the progress they’d made. Garry told them of their meeting with the scruffy layabout they’d encountered at Mr Simpson’s home, and what had transpired once Charlene came onto the scene. Which had led Cassie to remark – ‘What’s with all this cloak and dagger stuff?’

  And so it was back to work. Leaving Garry on tenterhooks, and unable to settle his thoughts on anything other than meeting his mother. As the days passed, he wondered if they’d been duped by Charlene saying she’d be in touch. Then at the end of that first week, he came home to find a letter waiting for him on the doormat. When Delia handed it to Garry he turned it over in his hands, noticing it had neither a postmark nor a stamp on the envelope.

  As he slit it open he said, ‘This has been delivered by hand… it’s from Charlene.’

  The letter was typed on plain paper without the sender’s address, but was signed ‘Charlene’.’ And it read:

  Dear Garry and Delia,

  I have contacted my client, who has asked me to meet with you and your family, including your son and daughter and their families on Sunday 30th November at 2 pm at your house. Arrangements can then be made for all the family to travel across to visit her. If this day and time are inconvenient, please contact me at the email address below.

  Regards,

  Charlene.

  Garry showed it to Delia, asking ‘Can you foresee any problems with these arrangements?’

  ‘Not as far as I’m concerned, but I can’t for the life of me think why she wants the children involved. I’d better phone Tom and Cassie to make sure they can come.’

  ‘Fine. It would be nice for us all to visit my mother. It’ll be a proper little family gathering, won’t it?’

  Garry listened patiently while his wife telephoned their children, discussing in detail the letter they had received. He gleaned from the conversation that she’d invited them to Sunday dinner in readiness for Charlene’s arrival.

  <><><>

  So the allotted day was upon them. As always, there was plenty of banter once Tom and Cassie’s families got together especially with young Adam vying for attention. Pleased the family were keen to find out the identity of his mother, Garry still had a general underlying sense of misgiving about the whole affair, but his need to meet his mother overrode everything else.

  Now with the meal over and the dishes washed and cleared away they were all on tenterhooks, but for Adam, awaiting Charlene, and wondering just where this would lead.

  Garry took the seat nearest to the window, getting up every so often to look out for any sign of her.

  Then almost on the strike of two pm, a black Audi TT turned into the street stopping directly outside their house. Charlene stepped elegantly out of the car, wearing a blue trouser suit, and even with flat court shoes
she looked tall and slender. He watched as she walked up the drive, her long blonde hair loose to her shoulders flowing in the breeze. When the doorbell rang Garry went swiftly into the hall to answer the door.

  ‘Charlene,’ he smiled warmly at her.

  ‘Hallo Garry.’ She stepped into the hall took off her sunglasses and shook hands with him, and glancing around continued, ‘What a pleasant house you have here.’

  ‘Thanks, but I bet it doesn’t hold a candle to the house my mother owns.’

  ‘Maybe not,’ she grinned without elaborating further.

  ‘Please come through and meet the rest of my family.’ He gestured with his hand, ushering her into the living room.

  Garry opened the door allowing Charlene to go into the room first.

  ‘All right everybody,’ he announced. ‘I’d like you all to meet Charlene; she’s the go-between for us and my mother.’

  ‘Hello, there, nice to meet you all, let me see if I can work out who you all are? I’ve already met Delia, your beautiful wife. And I can see Tom, your son and I guess his wife Jane. Then your daughter Cassie and her husband Chris, and finally your sweet little grandson Adam.’

  ‘Won’t you please sit down,’ Garry said.

  ‘Thank you.’ She repositioned an empty armchair so she was sitting within the family group.

  ‘All right everybody, the reason I’ve asked you here today is to explain a number of things concerning Garry. As you know, he’s been searching for his birth parents since finding out about his adoption from his mum just before she died a few months ago.

  ‘My client became aware of the situation, and of Garry’s relentless search, and now feel she should consent to a meeting.’

  ‘So are you going to tell us who she is?’ Tom asked eagerly.

  ‘Sorry, but I’m not allowed to divulge that information. You see my client is very well known.’ She left it there and changing the subject saying, ‘I’ve been instructed to make the arrangements for your meeting, nothing else. I feel sure, though, all will become clear in time.’