“It was our great grandmother after all.” Carl’s eyes were wide in wonder. Dani, seeming to realise what was being discussed, passed him the photograph of the two women so he could have a closer look at the original. “Vanessa noticed the resemblance, but it seemed so unlikely. But it’s her. She was Teresa’s lover.”
“So Esther is Sophia, and is your great grandmother. She was in love with my great grandmother,” exclaimed Dani, her cheeks red with excitement.
“And she left, never to return to Teresa.” Vanessa’s voice was quiet.
“It tallies with what I remember family members saying about her. They said her friend – her lover – left and never came back.” Sergio pressed his lips together. “That poor woman.”
Vanessa couldn’t help but wonder what had happened after that. She remembered the name Gerardo. He had been her great grandfather, but from what she recalled, hehad died during the Second World War. She knew Sophia had never remarried, despite being widowed so young. Now she understood why.
“Grandma always said her memories of her father were hazy,” said Vanessa, trying to cast her mind back. “She was so young when he died. But she said he was kind.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” said Sergio.
Carl nodded. “What a time she went through.”
“It was never about the recipe, then,” said Joey, wiping a tear from Vanessa’s cheek.
“No. It wasn’t.” Vanessa handed the hurriedly scribbled love letter back to Dani. “It was just the first piece of paper she came across. She must have used it to communicate with Teresa that one last time.”
Joey was leafing through the book. “Here, look at this.”
She held the book up in front of Vanessa, open on the page she had almost forgotten about. The one that held a hand-drawn heart containing the letters TS.
“I’d forgotten all about that,” said Vanessa, clasping her hand to her mouth.
“Maybe they cooked together?” Joey suggested.
Sergio chuckled. “I remember hearing stories about my grandmother’s cooking. It was adventurous, but tended towards disaster. Perhaps Sophia was the cook?”
Carl nodded. “If what gran used to tell us is true, Sophia must have been an amazing cook.”
Blood raced in Vanessa’s ears as she let the conversation continue around her. Somehow, a love story from almost a century years ago seemed to be directly relevant to her situation. If the book hadn’t been about that recipe, what had it been about? What had her grandma been trying to tell her? How much had she known about her mother?
Chapter Forty-Nine
JOEY
Joey got ready for the party, her head in a daze. Vanessa and Carl had gone back to Vanessa’s apartment to call their parents and tell them what they’d found.
Joey had some time to herself. In the past, she’d never felt she had enough time alone. But in the quiet moments in her apartment, all she felt was Vanessa’s absence.
She dressed in light blue cotton trousers and a dark red shirt with capped sleeves. She had spent the day trying to avoid asking Vanessa her plans for the Birmingham cafe, knowing in her heart that she just didn’t want her to leave. But she also knew it wasn’t fair to say that to her. Today was the day when Vanessa had to put down the money for the premises.
Her phone pinged. She expected it to be Carmen, reminding her for the fifth time when she needed to help with the set-up.
It wasn’t Carmen.
It was her father: “Joey. I’m sorry. I should never have asked you. I am sober right now, I promise. My cashproblems aren’t yours to solve. I want to be in touch with you in any way I can. On your terms. x”
Joey’s knees buckled and she sat on her sofa, rereading the message. She still wasn’t sure she could trust him. But at least he was saying the right words. She had the sense again of all her walls crumbling. Everything she had carefully built up to protect herself. Slowly, but surely, all her worlds were colliding.
She held her head in her hands, waiting for the fear to come. The fear that she had kept tightly contained in a box. A box that seemed to have exploded open.
But it didn’t come.
Joey ran her fingers through her hair and sat back. She took some deep breaths. This was different. She didn’t feel afraid. She knew she didn’t know what the path ahead held, but she was starting to see that being safe didn’t mean having to be in control of everything safe.
She thought about the bakery, about what it might be like, being the boss. She smiled. She had lots of ideas for how she could make her spiritual home even better than it already was. She knew it would be hard work. She’d not really had to worry about the business side of things until now, but she knew Carmen did well enough, financially – the woman went on a lavish cruise once a year, after all. And she liked the idea of Carmen putting herself first for a change and spending time with her beloved grandchildren.
