Holly could only shake her head. “I don’t know. Somehow she looked after me. Then on Christmas Eve, my third birthday, she left me where I’d be found and cared for. I suppose she didn’t really know what else to do. I don’t remember her face, but I remember a tune she used to sing.” Holly started to hum the song she’d sung to herself over and over again at night to keep fear away, until one night she’d realised that no one was ever coming to get her and she’d locked the tune down deep in her memory. She stopped when Nana rose abruptly from her chair and left the room, coming back a few seconds later, a music box in her hands.
“It was my mother’s. Giselle always loved it.” Slowly she turned the key on the side before opening the box. Holly’s skin prickled as the tune swelled through the air. Her tune.
The music box ran out and silence filled the room before Holly slid from her chair and knelt, wrapping her arms around her grandmother’s waist and placing her head in her lap.
“I thought I’d never find you,” she whispered brokenly against the soft fabric of her Nana’s dress, finally giving way to the decades of loneliness that could now, finally, begin to be assuaged.
Her grandmother rested a hand on Holly’s head, stroking trembling fingers soothingly through the long dark tresses, her voice awash with emotion. “I’m so glad you did, my darling. I’m so glad you did.”
The next morning Holly awoke to the sound of seagulls calling across the beach and waves crawling up the sand. Although she’d slept deeply, she still felt exhausted. After dinner last night she and her grandmother had walked back to her car together, and Holly had garaged it at the cottage. Then they’d talked into the small hours of the night, piecing together the life they’d been cheated of. And yet, despite all she’d never had a chance to know before now, Holly couldn’t blame her mother. She’d been young and foolish, following a dream of love with a boy she knew her father didn’t approve of. How she’d hung on to Holly for as long as she did was a miracle in itself.
On Nana’s part, while she couldn’t come to grips with the fact that her daughter had never asked her family for help, she was so incredibly happy to have Holly here with her. Finally Holly had somewhere she belonged, someone of her own to love. And Nana was so excited about the new baby, Holly hadn’t had the heart, or the courage, to tell her the truth last night. But she would have to do it today.
When she finally summoned the courage, her grandmother’s eyes had filled with tears of compassion.
“But you love this Connor Knight, don’t you?” Nana asked, confusion clear in her eyes.
“Yes.” It was the simple truth, and Holly couldn’t deny it to the woman who deserved honesty from her above all else.
“Does he know?”
“No, I’ve never told him.”
“Well then, maybe you should think about that.”
“I couldn’t. If I told him now he’d only think I’m doing it to stay with the baby.” Holly looked down at her hands. “I didn’t want this baby. Not at the beginning. Not even a week ago. Not knowing my family, and with Andrea—I’ve been so scared.”
“Well, now you know. There are no hidden nasties amongst our lot. You have to let go of the things you can’t control, dear. Your baby will be fine. You’ll see.”
“It’s too late.” Holly’s voice was flat, devoid of emotion as if the past twenty-four hours had stripped her bare.
“What do you mean? How can it ever be too late? Look at us. Yesterday I didn’t even know you existed, yet I love you as if I’d been a part of your life since the day you were born,” Queenie argued passionately.
Dread filled Holly’s heart. How would her grandmother take the news? How could she understand? “I’ve already signed away all parental rights to Connor. Under the agreement, I won’t even see it after it’s born.” Her voice cracked on a sob as the truth rammed home. She would never see her baby. Never be a part of its life, never hear its first words, or see its first hesitant steps. Never be party to her baby’s first day at school, or its first wiggly tooth. What had she done? She didn’t think she could hurt any more, but now she felt as though she’d scraped away the very lining of her soul.
Queenie’s face dropped and she gathered Holly into the comfort of her arms. “Oh, my darling. My poor, poor girl. Don’t you worry—we’ll sort something out. You have family now. I might not be much, but I’m yours and we’ll fight this together.”