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‘So, if that is the case, my mum must know the identity of the other trustee.’
‘Yes, possibly.’
‘You want me to ask my mum, don’t you?’
‘No.’
Clarissa looked at her in surprise. ‘You don’t?’
Abigail cast her gaze up the beach. Peter had reached his grandchildren and was giving the dog a fuss too before they all set off again. ‘Look, Clarissa. You’re right. Toby’s gone. What good would it do now, dredging up the past? Your mum’s not well. And your dad …’ Abigail glanced at Peter. ‘Why bring it up now?’
‘But what if my mum or the other trustee knows the connection with Toby and the Somervilles?’
Abigail recalled what Ray had said. ‘I think Toby jumped to conclusions that he was related to them somehow. That’s what I first thought. But now I believe his connection to the family, to Daphne was …’
‘The cottage.’
‘Yes. Daphne didn’t have any children, so she put the cottage into a trust for the baby found in her storm porch.’
‘What about the Somervilles? Lord Somerville had two children, didn’t he? Why didn’t she give the cottage to them – or her brother?’
Abigail shrugged. ‘Perhaps she felt sorry for Toby.’
‘I’d ask my mum if you wanted me to,’ said Clarissa.
Abigail smiled at her. She couldn’t have asked for a better sister-in-law. Abigail shook her head. She said just what she’d told Ray. ‘There’s little point. I can’t go looking for his biological parents and find them, only to tell them he’s dead.’
‘Yes, I get that.’
Abigail stood up and brushed the sand from her jeans.
So did Clarissa. ‘You will stay in touch, won’t you?’
‘I will.’ Abigail meant it.
‘I’d love for you to remain living in the cottage down the road, but that’s going to be a big decision and I bet you’re not ready to make that sort of commitment. Besides, if I was in your shoes, I’d probably sell it. Too many memories. Hope you don’t mind me saying.’
‘Not at all. My friend, Lili, and my parents think I’m staying.’
‘Yeah, I bet they do.’ She asked, ‘When are you returning to London?’
Abigail realised that Clarissa was the first person to ask her that question.
‘Soon.’
The children ran into their mother’s arms. ‘It was getting dark, and Grandpa was getting worried.’
Abigail smiled at them. The sound of their voices said Grandpa wasn’t the only one worrying about Mummy. Abigail’s smile waned. She wished she and Toby had had children. Not that she’d want them to be going through all this, losing a father, but …
‘Oh, crumbs – the dinner!’
‘It’s alright, I turned the oven down,’ said Peter. ‘Hey, Abigail, I didn’t know you were here. Visiting your parents?’
‘Yes.’ Abigail exchanged a glance with Clarissa.
‘Are you having dinner with them?’
‘No.’
