BooksBarbecue
Back Where The Story Starts
Chapters (65)
  1. TITLE PAGE
  2. COPYRIGHT PAGE
  3. CONTENTS
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. BOOK CLUB QUESTIONS
  64. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  65. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Grace was just closing the zip on her bag when Mrs Finn reappeared, flushed but with her eyes shining brightly. This was possibly the most exciting thing that had happened to her for months.

‘Right. Richard was in his office so he will take you to Newcastle in the Land Rover. He’s promised to drive slowly and carefully. No luck with Mr Montgomery Smith yet, I’m afraid, but I’ll keep trying and if I can’t get hold of him then Richard has said that he’ll drive over there once he’s dropped you off and pick him up himself. Now then. Have you got everything you need?’

Grace nodded, grateful for Mrs Finn’s efficient cool-headedness. She pointed at the bag, which Mrs Finn swooped in to pick up, and then headed slowly for the stairs. This was not how things were meant to happen, she thought as she picked her way back downstairs, stopping each time a pain came to sway her hips and pant until it passed. And where the hell was Charles?

22

22

GRACE – THEN

By the time the Land Rover pulled up outside the hospital, Grace’s contractions were coming every couple of minutes and it was all she could do to not scream out with the pain. Holding herself together was using every ounce of her strength. If it had been Charles sitting beside her as they raced through the busy streets she would have let rip, painting the air blue, but this was not Charles. This was Richard, the estate manager – staff. Grace could not allow herself to be seen acting other than with the greatest dignity in front of someone on the payroll, who, no matter how strong his loyalty to the family, would probably be unable to resist telling the story of his heroic dash to the maternity ward with Lady Hartsford in his car. To avoid becoming the talk of the village, Grace had to dig her fingernails into her palms until she drew blood and send her screams deep inside her towards the baby that was clamouring to be let out.

Richard flew out of the Land Rover almost before it had stopped moving and raced to her side to open the door.

‘Help me, please!’ he shouted across the forecourt to anyone who might be there. ‘Can I have some help here, please?’

Grace closed her eyes as another tsunami of pain crushed her. She couldn’t take much more of this. Had it been this bad last time? She seemed to have conveniently erased all memories of it.

As the pain receded, she came back to her surroundings. Someone was at her feet trying to manoeuvre them out of the footwell, and when she opened her eyes she saw that there was a wheelchair waiting just beyond the door. All she had to do was get from here to there. She set her jaw and slid forward to lower herself down.