Different Genes , livre ebook

Troubador Publishing Ltd - Claire Baldry

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123 pages

English

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Sixty-one year old Louise finally learns she is adopted after the death of her mother. She embarks on a quest to reveal the secrets of her past, helped by new companion and lover, Simon, whom she meets after joining an Internet dating site. In her first full-length novel, author Claire Baldry sensitively explores the growing closeness between the newly retired couple as they develop their mutual understanding and physical relationship. The reader is reminded of the changing values of the postwar years, while Simon and Louise visit places from Louise's past and meet people who knew her mother and grandmother. Together, they begin to unlock the forgotten secrets of Louise's past - but in the face of so much change and uncertainty, can Louise let her relationship flourish?The story is set mainly in the author's home county of East Sussex, but finishes in Kent, when Louise and Simon finally visit her birth mother's grave at a convent in Chatham. This immensely readable journey of discovery is a charming and bittersweet mixture of romance, sadness and genuine suspense.

Sujets

Contemporary romance

Sussex

Kent

Informations

Publié par	Troubador Publishing Ltd
Date de parution	28 octobre 2017
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781788031035
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0100€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Different Genes
Claire Baldry
Copyright © 2017 Claire Baldry

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

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ISBN 9781788031035

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Matador is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd
Claire Baldry retired from her career as a Headteacher in 2008. She is now an established writer, blogger, comedy poet and public speaker in her home county of East Sussex. She lives in Bexhill-on-Sea with husband, Chris.
Claire has published four booklets of amusing poetry and an autobiographical novella, called South Something.
Different Genes is Claire’s first full-length novel.
Claire says, “Sixty is the new forty. I feel very privileged to be able to focus on my writing, now I am retired. I enjoy creating ‘older’ romantic heroines and placing them at the centre of poems and stories.”
Also by Claire Baldry

Poetry Booklets
Simply Bexhill
Simply Christmas
The De La Warr Date
Seaside and Sailaway

Autobiographical Novella
South Something
For Chris
With grateful thanks to all my friends and family for their encouragement with my writing. Special thanks to Danielle Steele and Hilary Cisneros Mccorry for their meticulous proof-reading of the text.
This novel is set in towns and villages in Sussex, Hertfordshire and Kent. Whilst the author’s detailed knowledge of the locality has been used to provide a realistic background to the storyline, road names, businesses and buildings are often invented. All characters in this novel are fictitious.
Joan’s fading body lay resting on a bed in the local hospice. Her mind was numbed with a cocktail of pain-relieving drugs. Her shoulders were propped up by an uneven mound of plastic-coated pillows. Her face was obscured by an oxygen mask. The chaplain walked towards the open door of her room and peered in. She lifted an arm to signal that she wished the clergyman to approach. Father Martin drew up a chair and sat beside her.
“Do you need something, Joan?”
She pulled the mask from her face.
“Paper.”
Father Martin produced a clipboard with paper from his leather case. He placed it on her chest and put a pencil in her hand. He steadied the paper, as Joan began to write.
Dear Louise
The script was barely legible.
I think you should know….
The letter was never completed. The pencil fell from her hand, and her body gradually slumped into emptiness. Father Martin removed the clipboard and pencil from the bed and returned them to his case. He pressed the emergency button and spoke the words of a silent prayer.
Contents
1. A Celebration of Joan
2. Freshers’ Week
3. Meeting Charlie
4. Marriage, Divorce and Relocation
5. After Joan
6. Visiting Gillian
7. Senior’s Dating
8. Contact
9. The Estate Agent
10. Talking to Simon
11. The Garden Centre
12. Meeting Sophie
13. Lovers
14. From Companion to Couple
15. An Intruder in Fairlight
16. Different Genes
17. Patricia Makepiece (1940–1955)
18. Nana
19. Losing Louise
20. Adoption
21. Meeting Grandma
22. Bob
23. Meeting Karen
24. Confession
25. From Guestling to Battle
26. Meeting Oliver
27. The Return of Bob
28. Journey to Chatham
29. Simon Disappears
30. Simon Reappears
31. Making Plans
32. Martha
33. Finding Ruby
34. Moving On
35. A Wedding in Brighton
The Final Chapter
One
A Celebration of Joan
Simon took the coast road back from Rye. He had finished wandering around the market earlier than expected, so decided to stop for a short walk in Fairlight Country Park. It had been a clear autumnal day, but, by the time he reached the park, a dense cloud had engulfed the cliff top. The air was filled with damp droplets, and the sea was barely visible. He parked by the Fairlight Tea Rooms and decided to sit inside with a pot of tea for company. When the tea was no longer warm, he wandered through the plant-filled conservatory and sheltered outside under the awning. He could just catch a glimpse of Fairlight Church and the blurred horizon beyond. He found himself observing a distant group of mourners who were drifting away from the graveyard. Simon wondered where the family would gather later for the customary tea and finger food. The grey sky and murky rain added a sombre atmosphere to their steps. He glanced down at the discarded cigarette ends surrounding his feet. He was so pleased he had finally given up.
‘People had adjusted easily to the smoking ban,’ he reflected. ‘Nine years ago, the mourners would have been allowed inside the tea shop to smoke away their grief. Now they were banished outside in the mist.’
As if reading his thoughts, an older man in a black overcoat slipped away from the group of mourners and lit up a cigarette beside him.
“Did you know her?” asked the man.
“No,” replied Simon, “I was just leaving the café and I found myself watching. You?”
“Auntie Joan was my wife’s cousin. I thought I’d leave the girls to chat, while I sneaked a cigarette. They don’t get to meet up very often. It takes a funeral to bring a family together. You can tell they’re related, can’t you? They all have the same stubby body shape. Auntie Joan looked like that too.”
Simon smiled at the way the man had described the women in his family.
“I see your point. They do look similar. All except that lady on the right. She is much taller and leaner.”
“That’s Louise. She’s adopted… different genes.”
Simon suddenly felt uncomfortable. He sensed he was intruding. He pulled the car keys from his pocket, apologised to the man, and made excuses to leave. As he climbed back into his Mercedes, he began to reprimand himself. He knew he was lonely, but choosing to pass the time by watching a bereaved family was, he decided, really desperate. He must take himself in hand and do something.
The family group gradually dispersed towards their own vehicles. As Simon had predicted, they headed to a private room in a nearby hotel. The tables were laid with crisp white cloths topped by sandwiches and cakes. The hotel staff were serving tea from large metal teapots.
The sign on the door read, ‘Friday 30th September 2016: A Celebration of the Life of Joan Watson’.
“I’m so sorry about your mum,” said a family friend to Louise.
“Thanks, Bob. She had a good long life, and I wouldn’t have wanted her to suffer any longer. Her death was a relief really. Mind you, I’m not looking forward to clearing the bungalow.”
“Of course, you’re an only child. There are no brothers or sisters to share the task. Will the cousins help?”
“You know, I think I’d rather get on with it on my own. When I split up with Charlie, we had to discuss every single item of furniture and decide who would have what. It was very wearing. Mum’s will left everything to me. At least this time I can make all the decisions on my own.”
“You’re probably right. Just give me a call though, when you need anything. I’ll happily drive my van from Hastings to the tip for you, if it helps.”
“Thanks, Bob. I just might take you up on that offer,” Louise lied. She had no intention of allowing Bob to intrude upon her grief by touching her mother’s belongings.
The gathering broke up shortly before 4 pm. Kisses and hugs were exchanged, and they began to return to their cars.
“Are you sure you will be okay on your own?” asked Louise’s cousin, Karen.
“I’ll be fine. I stayed in the bungalow for two weeks before Mum died. My bed is still made up, and it will give me time to get my head back together. I need to be alone for a while.”
“Well, as long as you’re sure.”
“I am.”
It was a long drive back from Fairlight to Sawbridgeworth. By the time Michael and Karen reached the Dartford Crossing, the traffic was crawling in congested rush-hour lines towards the tunnel.
“I never understood why Joan decided to move to Sussex,” remarked Karen. “You can’t get anywhere without negotiating the M25.”
“Well she seemed happy enough living there,” responded Michael. “Perhaps she was enticed by the sea. Fairlight is such a beautiful village, even if it does attract the mist.”
“Living in a cloud sums it up,” Karen spoke her thoughts out loud, “I still can’t believe that Louise has never suspected. Actually, I wish I didn’t know. It feels wrong that Louise was never told.”
Michael felt an uncomfortable sense of guilt that he had shared Joan’s secret with a complete stranger. He decided not to tell Karen about his indiscretion.
“We must be the only ones left who know. When we die, the secret will die with us.”
Karen and Michael’s car finally escaped into the faster moving traffic of the M11. Michael pressed his foot on the accelerator and began to focus on his driving. His craving for a cigarette increased the speed of the car.
Joan’s bungalow was only