‘Rufus,’ said Reggie, looking over at him.
‘Yes, because he lived in the village somewhere in Suffolk with his young family. I couldn’t remember the name of the village, but I’d asked after him in the shop, and probably because Claire was a local GP, they knew they lived in a small village called Pettistree. So, I got a taxi to the village, with no idea which house they lived in. I imagined I’d have to knock on a few doors to find them. But when we arrived, and the taxi driver was driving slowly through the village – that’s when I saw them. Rufus, Claire, two young children, and a baby in a stroller, walking down the front garden path of a sweet little cottage in the centre of the village.’
Rufus said, ‘I never saw you.’
‘No, you didn’t. In that split second I knew it was you who had found her. And I knew something else. I could never give her that life. You had a beautiful home, a lovely family, Bridie. So, I disappeared again, returning to London and throwing myself into London theatre work, assuming a stage name this time. And then about three years later, in London, I got a knock on my dressing room door. Someone had seen me in a show and recognised me. It was your grandad, Bridie.’
Bridie leaned forward in her seat.
‘He also recognised something else,’ said Isobel. ‘My likeness to his granddaughter, the foundling. I didn’t want to talk to himthere, so I went home with him to his little flat. He shared his feelings, that he’d always disagreed with their decision to just keep the baby, and that it had caused a rift between them. He showed me photos of you, and my heart broke.’
Bridie suddenly remembered her grandad’s neighbour mentioning a young woman who used to visit him years ago, and how Bridie resembled her.
‘I continued to visit him for a while. He showed me more photos, and told me about your life, but eventually I couldn’t stand it any longer, so I left London and moved to New York to start a new life, hoping I could put my past behind me. I worked as a chorus girl, and that’s where I met my husband, a stagehand. He’d already been married, and had children, so he didn’t want to have any more, which suited me. I didn’t think I deserved to have any more after … after abandoning you outside the theatre like that.’
Another heavy silence followed.
‘We travelled where the work took us, never settling down, always living in motels or rental apartments. And then … recently I became a widow. There was nothing to keep me there, no family, children, or grandchildren, so I returned to London, found a small room in a noisy, shared house, which I could just afford, living on my meagre savings. I started to fill my time going to London shows, always the cheap last-minute seats. And that’s when it happened …’
She swallowed, tears rolling down her face. ‘That’s when I saw you, Bridie, performing on the London stage. I knew … I knew you were my daughter the moment I set eyes on you.’
Bridie said, ‘You came to my shows?’
‘Almost every single one you were in, after that, burning through my savings, but I didn’t care. One day, I promised myself, one day I would pluck up the courage to meet you. And then you were gone. Just like that, from your last show. I didn’tmanage to get cheap seats for all your shows, so sometimes I couldn’t go, and the last show was one of those sell-out performances.’
Oh, thank god, thought Bridie,that she wasn’t there.
‘I found out later, from your grandad, what had happened. I went to the flat, not thinking he’d still be there after all those years, but he was. He told me about that horrible fiancé of yours, Julian, who’d cheated on you, and told you you’d never work in London again. What a creep. Oh, how I wanted to wring his neck.’
She held out her hands as though she was doing just that.
‘I followed you to Suffolk. Just bought a train ticket, with no idea what I’d do when I arrived. I had no money for a hotel; I just wanted to come here and be near you. So, I was wondering along the promenade with my wheelie suitcase, and that’s when I came to the theatre. It looked run down, still abandoned. I remembered the dodgy lock on the stage door round the back, and got in, just to look around, reminisce. I walked downstairs to the dressing rooms, and that’s when I had a thought. I could stay here for one night. Just one night while I figured out what to do. I cleaned up one small dressing room. Then bought some takeaway fish and chips. I couldn’t believe my luck when I realised there was still electricity and water. So, that’s where I stayed, buying a small gas stove from the hardware shop in town, and a kettle. I knew where you were. I assumed you would have moved back in with your … with Rufus and Claire, but the last thing I wanted to do was just turn up at their house. But how would I meet you? Then as luck would have it, you turned up at the theatre.’
Everyone sat in silence, listening to her story.
‘At first I was shocked that it looked as though you were reopening the theatre and planning to put on a show.’
I desperately wanted to meet you, talk to you, but I was in a quandary. I was squatting in your theatre and had nowhere else to go. If you found out … everything, how would I know you’d let me stay?’
So, you sabotaged my theatre, trying to put a stop to the show,thought Bridie. But she couldn’t blame her, knowing her circumstances – she was clearly homeless and desperate.
‘Then that lovely man, Jack, discovered me. But rather than go straight to the police, he started delivering groceries!’
‘He found your locket and guessed who you were – the actress who had disappeared.’
‘I know. I think he guessed something else, that you and I had a connection. I should have removed that poster. But I didn’t.’
‘I look just like you when you were here on stage in that last production.’
‘Yes.’
‘He left me the locket, you know, hanging on the door handle where I live. But it wasn’t me who found it, so I didn’t know about it until now.’ Bridie looked at the locket in her hand and handed it to her. ‘It’s me, isn’t it? The photo of a baby in the locket.’
Isobel took the locket. ‘Yes, it is.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Can you … can you ever forgive me?’
For which part,thought Bridie.Having an affair with my dad? Abandoning me? Sabotaging the theatre?
She felt Kate squeezing her hand. She looked at her sister. They’d wasted years resenting each other, only to discover they could have been best friends – all because of this. Kate knew Bridie was Dad’s favourite because he must have loved Isobel Raine once.
