Unforgettable (Gloria Cook) - By Gloria Cook Page 0,72
snuggled into her.
‘I left the room and ran to the bathroom where I was sick. I’ve felt sick to my stomach every day since, Verity, because the very next day Lucinda went outside and hung herself, and as much as I was horrified and distraught I was glad. I didn’t know how long I could go on shielding her and I was terrified she would hurt Polly or one of the staff. The Kellands and Cathy were brilliant about Lucinda and devoted to her. Cathy would join in her games. She knew instinctively how to treat Lucinda. Lucinda couldn’t have borne being put in an asylum. She didn’t deserve that. If she had not been locked up and kept away from all reality she might have lived some semblance of a normal life. I loved her. It was a strange love, like a father or a brother’s, and I miss her, Verity. I miss the times when she was happy and laughing and running barefoot through the stream. I’m glad she’s at peace now. I’ll never regret knowing her and having her in my life. I miss her and feel I failed her.’
Jack broke down and wept and fell to his knees amid the outlandish nursery scene.
Verity went down beside him and wrapped her arms around him. She gathered his head on to her shoulder. ‘Cry for as long as you need to, Jack. You haven’t been able to grieve and now you can. Cry for Lucinda and cry for yourself. Believe me when I say you didn’t let her down. You brought her freedom and saved her from a terrible end in incarceration. And you brought me here to help and I won’t let you down.’
Twenty-Two
Finn insisted on holding Eloise in the dark, chilly church throughout her baptism. Soames Newton was in attendance as vicar’s warden, watching the events avidly in case something happened that he could gossip about in the Stores, yet smiling broadly at all and everything, a jollier individual now he was a widower and plied with lashings of female company and attention. He had made it known he was invited by, no less, Mrs Honoria Sanders for tea today. Finn hated Soames’ bobbing about, lighting candles, carrying his warden’s cross in a jaunty way, croaking the responses in the service when others present in the body of Christ were asked to make them.
The creaking Reverend Wentworth Lytton mumbled and raced through the proceedings. When he muttered, ‘Name this child,’ and Dorrie proudly declared the baby was to be baptized Eloise Veronica, Finn, while glaring darts of displeasure at the vicar, loudly and clearly repeated, ‘E-lo-ise Ve-ron-i-ca.’
Fiona dug him in the ribs. ‘Shh.’
Lytton duly sprinkled the blessed water over Eloise’s forehead, dripping some into her eyes, further angering Finn. Eloise obligingly cried ‘the devil out’ and Finn cuddled and comforted her.
Once outside in the warm and windy sunlight, the party posed in the church doorway while Guy took photographs. Verity took some photos of him with Fiona, holding the baby, and Finn. Finn smiled with joy. He had secretly accepted that Guy was likely to be his future stepfather. Guy was his friend, and Finn wanted everyone to know it, which included the few curious villagers milling about in the churchyard.
‘Congratulations, Mrs Templeton,’ Soames bellowed heartily, slipping between the baptism party and holding out his thick podgy hand to Fiona. ‘You have a beautiful little daughter and a fine son. You’ve made a new life for yourself after going through some very trying circumstances – I know what that’s like – and the best of British to you!’
Finn accepted a vigorous handshake from Soames, Finn thinking the shopkeeper’s buoyancy would never annoy him again.
Dorrie and Greg smiled, as proud of the Templeton children as if they were their own grandchildren. Dorrie wondered what Finn would say to Lytton if he knew just before the service the vicar had asked Fiona if Guy was her child’s father. Finn would be hurt and furious for sure. Fiona had hissed back at the vicar, ‘I can assure you she is my husband’s child so there’s no need for you to be sanctimonious about it. Do you want to baptize my daughter or not?’
‘I did nothing wrong by making the inquiry,’ Lytton had retorted, wheezing in indignation.
‘That was most unchristian of you, Mr Lytton,’ Dorrie had chastised him crossly.
‘Never mind him,’ Guy had said sternly. ‘Only Eloise and God matters in this, and the godparents’ vows. Don’t let him spoil