I remember this place from when I was a teenager. My best friend was sent there to give birth to her baby, back when an excuse was made up about daughters going abroad when in fact they were pregnant. It was well known that some wealthy families were drawn to Hope for her absolute discretion, and although I know for a fact that she would never turn any girl away who landed on her doorstep, many wealthy parents paid handsomely to send their daughters there. I guess many of the children born at Hope’s House never even knew they were adopted, it was all shrouded in so much secrecy due to the era.
Ella reread the last two sentences as she thought about her own grandmother. Could it have been that she was from a wealthy family, and they’d sent her great-grandmother there to give birth, under the pretence of her going abroad? Was that how she’d ended up there? Or had she been penniless and thrown out of her home, and found herself on the doorstep of Hope’s House because it was the only place she could go?
And perhaps the boxes had been left by the young mothers who’d least wanted to be there? The ones who were reluctant to leave their babies, the ones who desperately wanted to keep their infants? Or maybe it was simply wishful thinking on her behalf.
She closed her browser and clicked on her emails instead, deciding to follow through with what her aunt had suggested. If Hope’s niece Mia could shed more light on the past, then wasn’t it worth at the very least trying to make contact with her?
Ella found the email from the lawyer that she’d received only the week before, confirming her appointment, and quickly typed a message requesting Mia’s contact details. It was certainly worth a shot. After that, she closed her laptop and put it in her bag, packing up for the day and deciding to go home, pour herself a glass of wine and watch Netflix. She was exhausted.
6
ATHENS, 1967
Alexandra knew she shouldn’t have left the house alone, but her father was preoccupied and she’d fled without anyone knowing she’d gone. The child within her wanted to run away and hide, to let her father leave the country without her. But the young adult that she was blossoming into knew that was a fantasy; not only would her father not leave Athens without his only daughter, but also it could be too dangerous for her to stay. If the King had already left and wanted his family and closest advisers to leave too, then the situation must be more precarious than anyone was telling her.
The sun was high in the sky as she hurried across the grass, sweat curling around her neck as she looked up at the stable block that stretched in front of her. She took a moment to catch her breath, watching to see if anyone was there before walking slowly towards the sprawling wooden building, trying to commit the image to memory. Everything about it was immaculate, from the crisp white and grey paintwork to the planter boxes full of flowers flanking the entrance—all things her mother had insisted on when they’d purchased the property. But it was the chestnut nose of a horse peeking over the closest loose box to her that stalled her heart.
Her mother’s beloved Apollo. She’d had him since he was a foal, had regaled her with stories of him since Alexandra was a little girl, and of the fact that her friend the Queen had been the one to gift him to her. He was the horse her mother had once competed on, back whenshewas the queen of the showjumping ring, when she’d first caught Alexandra’s father’s eye, and also the same horse she’d been quietly enjoying an afternoon out riding on when the accident had happened. He was the horse her mama had loved almost as much as she’d loved her daughter. The stable was full of beautiful equines, but it was Apollo who’d held the special place in her mother’s heart, and now in Alexandra’s, even after what had happened. Because how could she not love an animal that her mother had adored? It didn’t matter to Alexandra that he’d been a gift from the royal family; what mattered to her was that her mother had loved him.
She walked slowly forwards, wondering if she was going to feel any hatred towards him for the part he’d played in her mother’s death, but all she felt was the most overwhelming sense of love for him. Alexandra approached him and held out her hand, watching as he breathed on her before nuzzling her palm and rubbing his top lip over her skin.
‘I should have brought you a sugar cube,’ she whispered, moving her hand to gently stroke his muzzle.
She leaned forwards against the loose box door, her forehead against the wood as emotion threatened to choke her, as Apollo nuzzled her hair, as if sensing that something was wrong. As a child, she’d spent hours trailing around after her mother at the stables, had ridden the striking chestnut before her legs were even long enough to reach the stirrups, been part of her mother’s world, just the two of them. But as she’d grown older, her interest in horses had waned until she no longer wanted to ride or visit the stables each day or even each week. Now it was one of her biggest regrets.
‘Alexandra?’
A voice from behind made her quickly wipe her eyes and stand straight. Her mother had insisted that everyone call them by their first names here. She might have grown up an heiress, but her mama had never allowed anyone to treat her as if she were different. Her mother liked to say that she was nothing more than a commoner, despite her wealth, even when she married Alexandra’s father who, due to his work, became even closer to the royal family and their inner circle. But while she didn’t believe she was any more important than anyone else, her mother had always drawn people in with her beauty and magnetism, meaning she was always treated as if sheweresomeone special.
‘Nico,’ Alexandra said, when she finally turned.
He was holding his hat to his chest, his eyes full of tears as he stared back at her. He’d been their groom for her entire life.
‘Alexandra, I’m so sorry,’ he said.
‘Thank you, Nico.’ Her words were barely a whisper, her breath shuddering from her body.
‘You’re not here to ride?’ He glanced down at her skirt and sandals.
‘I came to see Apollo.’Before we leave. She almost let the last words slip out. ‘I…’
He nodded and stepped forward, deftly opening the loose box door and slipping inside. ‘Come in,’ he said.
Alexandra hesitated before deciding to do as he’d asked, stepping inside the stall and finding herself in the small space with the enormous horse. It took a moment for her heart to stop racing, but Apollo just stood and calmly blinked at her, his big brown eyes so kind and trusting.
‘He’s missed your mother’s affection,’ Nico said in a low voice. ‘He is always looking, as if expecting her to walk around the corner at any moment to saddle him up or feed him apples.’
I’m missing her affection too.
Fresh tears filled Alexandra’s eyes and she leaned into Apollo, her cheek to his silky-soft neck, inhaling the smell that her mother had loved so much. She’d once declared that she’d bottle the sweet aroma of horse if she could.
Nico’s hand touched her shoulder then. ‘Alexandra, your father asked for him to be sold.’
She lifted her hand to Apollo once more. Part of her expected her father to have asked for him to be destroyed after the accident.
‘Nico, would you like to have him as your own?’ she asked as she slowly turned, using the backs of her fingers to wipe her eyes. ‘There is no one my mother would have trusted him more with than you, and my father doesn’t care about the money, only about getting rid of him.’ He’d understood once, according to her mother, showing great interest in her horses during their courtship, but he’d certainly never shown any affection towards them during Alexandra’s lifetime, not that she could recall anyway.
Nico looked past her at the horse. ‘I didn’t sell him, in case you wanted him for yourself. I knew your father would be furious if he found out he was still here, but I wanted to wait until I’d seen you.’
