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‘He wanted to be with you from the moment he knew Annalise was pregnant.’ Her grandmother shook her head when Anouk voiced her thoughts out loud. ‘He even proposed.’
‘My father proposed?’ Anouk felt her stomach twist. All the stories her mother had told her seemed more and more like lies. The worst of it was that she knew, instantly, that the version of events this relative stranger was recounting made more sense than anything Annalise had ever said.
‘But your mother didn’t want to know. She was rich and famous and he was nobody. Even when you came along there was nothing he could do. She refused to acknowledge him as the father, let alone allow him to have contact. But he did try, you must know that.’
‘I do now,’ Anouk murmured.
At least Annalise had never tried to pretend her father was someone else. The one consolation she had was that the identity of her father had remained constant throughout the years, even if only to her.
‘He was so proud of the way you were growing up. He would have been over the moon to know you’d become a doctor. And that you’d come over to the UK.’
‘I wish I had tried to make contact sooner. I just... I always thought... I was led to believe...’
‘That he didn’t want to know you,’ her grandmother supplied.
Incredibly there was no bitterness or rancour to the older woman’s tone, just a deep kind of grief, even as they both silently knew that Annalise had been the one to pour all that poison.
‘It couldn’t have been further from the truth.’ Her eyes shimmered and Anouk ducked her head for a moment, pretending she didn’t notice.
She didn’t want to succumb, as well. There seemed little point in telling the woman—her grandmother—that she’d gone to his house years ago. That could be a discussion for another time.
‘You have a good one there, you know.’
‘A good one?’ Anouk frowned as her grandmother smiled warmly.
‘Solomon. The young man you’re courting...or I should say dating, shouldn’t I?’
‘Oh. No. We’re just friends.’ She could feel the blush creeping up her neck and she knew her grandmother’s surprisingly sharp eyes hadn’t missed it.
Even the older woman’s smile was suddenly faintly delighted.
‘You don’t go to the lengths your young man went to, or talk about a young lady the way he talked about you, if you’re just friends. Take my word for it.’
‘You’re wrong.’ Anouk flushed, but she could feel the tiny smile playing at the corners of her mouth, the spearhead of hope working its way around her heart like a sharp screwdriver prying the lid off an old tin of paint.
For the rest of the conversation, Anouk listened as her grandmother recounted some stories about her father, revelling in their obviously close relationship and trying not to resent her mother for keeping her from such a loving home.
She learned how her father had never married, his heart always belonging to her mother and herself, as cruelly as Annalise had treated him. Anouk didn’t know if that made him single-minded or, frankly, a bit of a wet lettuce, but she liked to think of him as loyal and loving. And for now, that would work.
Her grandmother had an unexpectedly naughty sense of humour, which began to shine through once their initial nervousness had been overcome. And, Anouk discovered to her shock, the older woman had been very happily married three times. Widowed all three times.
‘I was a bit of a saucy young lady,’ her grandmother told her, ‘but I loved each one of them very dearly. And I was always a good and faithful wife.’
And then the older woman twinkled in a way that Anouk suddenly realised was all too familiar. She had caught a glimpse of it in herself every now and then over the years, usually when Saskia had convinced her to relax on those rare nights out, but especially recently when Sol had been a part of her life.
Was it possible that Sol, like this woman with the twinkling eyes, had been a bit saucy until he’d found his soul mate? Could it be that she was Sol’s? That Sol really did love her?
Anouk filed that little nugget in a box to dissect later. When she was alone. When she had the courage.
Still, the afternoon was emotionally exhausting. No doubt even more so for her grandmother.
‘Maybe I should go,’ Anouk hazarded after a while. ‘I think I need to...absorb some of this.’
Her grandmother’s eyes raked over her. The evident need for time to regroup obviously warring with the fear of never seeing her new granddaughter again.
‘I’ll come back,’ Anouk added quickly. ‘If you’re happy for that, of course.’
A slender hand covered hers instantly, its grasp surprisingly strong.
