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You And Me, Always(43)

By:Jill Mansell


Silence. Keir Bourne looked away.

‘And in case you're wondering, I do know who you are,' said Patsy. ‘Which means I know why you came here to Stanton Langley.'

More silence, broken only by the sound of her own uneven breathing.

‘And now I hate myself. I feel so stupid.' Tears filled her eyes, then  slid down her cheeks and dripped on to her bare feet. ‘I feel grubby and  gullible and used.'

‘Well you shouldn't,' said Keir, ‘because I didn't mean for any of this  to happen. Not this between you and me. I came here for one reason  …  a  completely different reason  …  and I didn't expect to meet you, but I  did. All of this, the way I feel about you and the way you felt about me   …  it was real.' He swallowed, as if on the brink of tears himself. ‘It  is real.'

Patsy's voice broke. ‘You're Lily's father.'

‘Yes.'

‘You dumped Jo. She was all alone and pregnant, and you abandoned her.'

Keir shook his head sorrowfully. ‘No, no, you've got it all wrong. It wasn't my fault.'

‘You're lying again.' Sobbing now, she wiped her eyes with the sleeve of the white dressing gown.

‘I'm not, I swear. Please listen to me,' Keir said with anguish in his eyes. ‘Just let me explain.'





Chapter 33



Twelve years on from that night, the very, very worst of her life, Patsy wondered if this one was about to eclipse it.

All around her, at the table in the garden of Goldstone House, the rest  of them were discussing the situation with varying degrees of outrage  and disgust. The Sunday edition of the newspaper was yet to appear  online; they were waiting for it to be uploaded within the next hour or  so. And who could say what might be revealed when it did?

Patsy felt sick. For all this time she'd guarded her deepest, darkest  and most shameful secret. At first she'd lived in perpetual fear that  one way or another the truth would come out. Then, as the years had  rolled by, the terror had lessened to a low-level rumbling anxiety. Lily  had continued to be completely uninterested in meeting her biological  father, and that had been the best news of all.

But now  …  oh, but now Keir was wanting to make contact with his  daughter, and instead of simply writing to her, he'd chosen to do it via  the medium of a national newspaper. God alone knew what he might be  about to say.

‘Are you OK?' Coral was looking at her with concern.

‘I'm afraid  …  well, not really. I'm feeling a bit  …  ill.' Patsy's hand  shook as she took a sip of water, and the rim of the tumbler clattered  against her teeth.

‘You do look pale,' said Eddie.

‘Don't try and blame my barbecuing skills,' Dan announced. ‘It's too soon for food poisoning.'

Coral said, ‘It might be one of those bugs.'

‘I think it could be that.' Hating herself even more, Patsy nodded  weakly. ‘I've been feeling a bit yuck for a few hours, but it's getting  worse.'                       
       
           



       

‘Poor you,' Lily exclaimed. ‘And you've been trying so hard to pretend  nothing's wrong. If you feel sick, I bet you're dying to go home.'

‘I am feeling sick.' Patsy put the tumbler down. ‘I think I probably should go. Sorry.'

‘Don't be silly, it's not your fault! Would you like me to walk you home?'

Patsy said, ‘It's fine. Don't worry, you stay here.' Lily's compassion  was only making her feel worse. ‘I'd rather be on my own.' She made  stay-sitting gestures, but it was too late; Lily was already out of her  chair.

‘You mustn't  … ' Patsy protested as Lily hugged her. ‘You don't want to catch whatever I've got.'

‘I won't, I never do. Poor you,' Lily said again. ‘I hope you feel better soon.'

Patsy had never felt more like Judas. Her throat tight with shame and self-loathing, she murmured, ‘Me too. I'm sorry.'

Lily smiled. ‘Will you stop saying that? You didn't do it on purpose!'

The shameful words echoed through Patsy's brain: Oh, but I kind of did.



The piece appeared on the newspaper's website at just gone midnight. As  soon as Dan looked up from his phone and said, ‘It's there,' Lily nodded  and pushed back her chair.

‘I'll read it inside. Won't be long.'

‘Oh darling, are you sure you don't want anyone with you?' Coral was looking concerned.

Lily gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. ‘Don't worry. I'll be fine.'

In the kitchen, Lily sat down at the scrubbed oak table and opened the  page on her iPad. It wasn't a case of being worried she might cry; she  simply wanted to be able to concentrate and take it all in without being  aware that everyone was watching her.

All these years, the fact that she'd never once googled Keir Bourne had  been a source of great pride to Lily, proof that he was a nobody who  meant nothing at all. The man had never shown any interest in her, so he  was absolutely irrelevant to her life. What he'd done to her mum was  disgusting and reprehensible and he didn't deserve to be looked up or  searched out in any way whatsoever. Lily had always refused to give him  the satisfaction of finding out that she'd so much as typed his name  into a search engine. A man like him was beyond contempt, and that was  that.

But had she been curious? OK, yes. Of course she had. And now that he'd made his move, she needed to know what he'd said.

Forewarned is forearmed, and all that.

Willing herself to stay calm and detached, she twisted the  crystal-studded bangle on her left wrist and looked at the photo that  had just come up on the screen, of the man who was her biological  father.

Keir Bourne had been photographed looking appropriately sincere and  concerned, sitting in a chair whilst holding one of the photos of her  that had appeared in last week's newspaper.

He had short brown hair that was greying very slightly at the temples.  Defined eyebrows, dark eyes and the beginnings of a double chin. He  wasn't ugly; you could tell he'd been good-looking when he was younger.  And if she were being honest, although there wasn't any strikingly  noticeable similarity, there was something about his forehead and  jawline that was reminiscent of her own.

No intense thud of recognition, though, thank goodness. And no sense of longing to meet him. Also good.

Lily exhaled and realised she was still compulsively twirling her  mother's bangle around her wrist. She knew from Coral that Keir Bourne  had never liked having his photo taken. When her mum had been seeing  him, he'd always turned away from the camera, shielding his face with  his hand or simply ducking out of sight. She'd only ever seen two or  three photographs of him, and they'd been poor-quality snaps taken with a  cheap throwaway camera  –  you'd never subsequently recognise him in real  life.

Plus, those snaps had been taken before she'd been born, when he was  still in his early twenties. A quarter of a century had passed since  then.

Once a bastard, always a bastard.

OK, that was the first hurdle over. Bracing herself, Lily turned her attention from the photo to the text and began to read.



A week ago, Lily Harper sprang to the public's attention when she  rescued a runaway mouse from superstar Mira Knowles  …  or maybe rescued  Mira Knowles from a runaway mouse. Today we speak to Keir Bourne, who  recognised Lily from the coverage as the daughter he's been deprived of  knowing all these years, thanks to the impulsive actions of Lily's  runaway mother, Jo.

‘You mustn't blame her mum,' Keir anxiously tells me when we meet in a  café close to his home in Milton Keynes. ‘She didn't mean to cause me  all these years of heartache. I'm sure in her own mind Jo's intentions  were good. We loved each other so much, though; I don't think she  realised how deep my feelings for her were. It was the worst pain I've  ever known when I found out she no longer wanted me in her  –  and our  daughter's  –  life.'                       
       
           



       

He pauses to gaze at the photograph of Lily in his hand, then gathers  himself to continue. ‘But as the years passed, I did my best to build a  new life of my own. I married and had another daughter, but was never  able to forget Lily. How could I? She was my firstborn.' Keir's voice  breaks as he proceeds. ‘Every single day I wondered how she was and if  she was missing me. Then when Lily was seven years old, I received a  letter from Jo telling me she was dying of cancer and had made  arrangements for our daughter to be cared for and brought up by friends  of hers. I was devastated, naturally, but she insisted she didn't want  me to contact her or Lily. And although it was like a knife in my chest,  I felt I had no other choice than to go along with what Jo had decided.  Once again I was heartbroken.