Fighting with Shadows Read online

  ‘Hello, Miss Westwood.’ The secretary smiled at both of them. ‘Mr Simpson thought you would come today.’

  Angie’s heart missed a beat. So her uncle had come to see the solicitor.

  ‘Ah, good, I’m glad you’ve arrived early.’ Mr Simpson came out of his office and held the door open for her.

  ‘My secretary will look after Danny. I’d like to see you alone.’

  Now Angie was really worried. She bent down in front of Danny. ‘Will you stay here while I talk to Mr Simpson?’

  Danny looked a bit worried and chewed his lip. ‘You won’t be long, will you?’

  ‘Only a few minutes.’

  The secretary smiled again at Danny. ‘My name’s Pauline. Will you show me your lovely truck?’

  He looked down at the toy he always carried around with him, and then trotted to the desk, holding it out for her. ‘It was in my mummy’s special tin.’

  Pauline winked at Angie, and, seeing that Danny was all right, she slipped into the office. Mr Simpson closed the door behind her.

  ‘Sit down please.’ The solicitor didn’t waste any time. ‘I had a visit from your uncle, Malcolm Harris, yesterday afternoon.’

  ‘I sent him. I’m sorry, I didn’t know what else to do.’ Angie sat on the edge of the chair, screwing up the handle of her handbag in agitation.

  ‘You did the right thing –’

  ‘He wanted to take Danny away from me. Please, where are the adoption papers? I must sign the papers –’

  ‘Don’t upset yourself, Miss Westwood. As soon as your uncle had gone, I managed to get the hearing brought forward to ten o’clock tomorrow morning.’ He smiled kindly. ‘They had a space and with a little persuasion they changed the date. I don’t believe there will be any opposition to the adoption.’

  Angie sighed in relief and wiped a tear away as it trickled down her cheek. She hadn’t realized she was weeping. ‘Oh, thank goodness. I was so frightened.’

  ‘Your uncle demanded to know about Miss Harris’s will and I explained the position. He wasn’t pleased to discover that everything had been set out clearly and legally. He was obviously looking for a loophole, so that he could step in and take charge. I pointed out that if he tried to contest the will, he would most certainly lose, and costs would far exceed the value of the property.’

  ‘And what about the adoption: did he accept that?’

  ‘Ah.’ Mr Simpson gave an amused smile. ‘I didn’t mention that it wasn’t finalized yet. I merely told him that your cousin had left her son in your care with a request that you adopt him.’

  She sat back in the chair, feeling more relaxed. ‘And what was his reaction to that?’

  ‘He stormed out without another word. I doubt you’ll hear from him again. It was the house he was after, but he knows now there is no way he can get his hands on it. In the unlikely event that he does turn up again, you send him to me and I’ll deal with him.’

  ‘That makes me feel easier.’ When this tragedy had first happened, she’d thought there was a chance that she would marry Alan, and have his help and support. But that hope had soon been dashed. She was on her own, and knowing the solicitor was there to help was a blessing. She stood up. ‘I must tell Danny about the hearing.’

  Mr Simpson also got to his feet. ‘Just a moment more, Miss Westwood.’

  She sat again and waited for him to do the same.

  ‘Do you have any idea where your cousin met Danny’s father?’

  Angie started at that question. ‘Well, yes, they met while she was still living in Somerset. We were evacuated there after our parents were killed.’

  ‘That would be the place to start.’

  Angie sighed anxiously. This wasn’t something she wanted to face at the moment.

  ‘I can only advise you.’ Mr Simpson studied her, his expression understanding. ‘Danny will be legally yours soon and you won’t have any more trouble from your uncle, but I do believe that for your own peace of mind you should find out who Danny’s father is.’

  Angie wasn’t at all happy about this. Her whole concentration was on the adoption and making sure Danny was happy. ‘I know Jane had doubts, but if she’d wanted him to know she would have put his name in the letter.’

  ‘I agree, and the decision will be yours.’

  ‘I’ll think about it – sometime.’

  Mr Simpson stood up. ‘I’m sure you’ll come to the right decision, Miss Westwood. And any time you are troubled about anything, come to me.’

  Angie got to her feet and shook his hand. ‘I’ve already taken up a lot of your time. You must tell me how much I owe you.’

  He opened the door. ‘My secretary will send you a bill in due course. We’ll be flexible about how and when you pay.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Angie really looked at the solicitor for the first time. He was greying a little at the temples, but still had a youthful look about him. He was also a kind, understanding man. Jane had chosen well.

  The hearing took only twenty minutes and an excited Angie was heading back to the solicitor with the precious certificate in her bag. Danny had come into the court with her and had behaved wonderfully. He glanced up as he trotted beside her and they grinned at each other. Her relief was immense. The solicitor had been there to support her and had left while she waited for the certificate. She was eager to show it to him now; he had been so kind, and she was sure everything had gone smoothly because of his help.

  ‘Ah, good, you’re back.’ He smiled as they tumbled into the office.

  She held out the certificate, too overcome to speak.

  ‘Good, come into my office. You can leave Danny with my secretary.’

  When they were seated, Angie had one pressing question on her mind. ‘What would happen if Danny’s father turned up someday?’

  ‘The child is now legally your son. If the father wanted custody, he would have to go through the courts, but, as he’s never played any part in his life or contributed to his upkeep, he would be unlikely to succeed. Yet, because of the unusual circumstances of the case, he would probably be granted visiting rights.’

  ‘I understand that. Thank you for all your help and advice.’

  As she stepped back into the other office, Angie laughed. Danny was sitting on Pauline’s lap, while she showed him how the typewriter worked. He was absolutely fascinated: he seemed to have a curiosity about anything mechanical.

  He glanced up when he heard her. ‘Look, Auntie, I can type!’

  ‘So I see.’ She bent down and held her arms out to the little boy she could now call her son. ‘I’ve got some good news for you. You know we went to that place this morning and talked to the people there?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Well, that was to agree the adoption, and you are now mine.’

  He scrambled down and gave her a hug, but she doubted he understood what it meant. It would not have occurred to him that he would live with anyone but his Auntie Angel, as he called her. But if she hadn’t been here, he would most likely have been put in an orphanage.

  The thought upset her, and at that moment she decided that she would see if she could find his father. Danny had a right to know who he was.

  And if she did track him down, he was going to be on the receiving end of her wrath for seducing a seventeen-year-old girl!

  4

  Two weeks later, and Angie was worried sick. Danny had been so brave and appeared to be recovering well from the death of his mother, but all of a sudden it seemed to have hit him that he was never going to see her again. He was distraught and she wasn’t able to comfort him. He would burst into tears at any time, sometimes in great wrenching sobs, and sometimes in silent misery. The Doctor had told her not to worry; it was probably delayed reaction because he hadn’t fully grieved at the time his mother had died. She thought that telling her not to worry was a stupid piece of advice. It was tearing her apart. The dimpled smile and animated chatter had vanished. He wasn’t eating properly, and no amount of sp
ecial treats could coax him into more than a couple of mouthfuls, to please her.

  She had to do something!

  The house was quiet now that Danny had finally drifted off to sleep. Angie rested her head in her hands, tired beyond belief. What they both needed was to get away from all the sad memories. Somewhere with green fields, open spaces and trees …

  She sat up straight. Of course! The farm in Somerset. John and Hetty Sawyer hadn’t been able to come to the funeral because John had broken his ankle, but they’d sent flowers and a letter saying that she could come to stay with them any time. Scrabbling in the drawer of the table, she found paper, envelope and pen, then began to write quickly.

  Dear John and Hetty,

  I am thinking of taking a holiday and would like to accept your invitation to stay with you for a few days. It would be lovely to see you and the farm again. Please let me know if sometime in the next two weeks would be convenient.

  I hope John’s ankle is now healed and that you are both well,

  Love, Angie

  She sealed the envelope ready to post in the morning. The Sawyers were kind people, and the girls had been very lucky to be billeted with them. John and Hetty had originally come from London, but they had moved to Somerset many years ago when they had been left the farm by John’s uncle. They had treated two distressed girls as if they were their own children, and not all evacuees had been so fortunate.

  Angie hadn’t mentioned that Jane had a son, and she knew Jane hadn’t either, as it would have upset them to know she had become pregnant while in their care. She would explain about Danny when she got there. And it would be an opportunity to do a little investigating. They were bound to know who Jane’s friends had been. Perhaps finding his father would help Danny, for, goodness knows, nothing else was working. She was desperate enough to try anything.

  Three days later the reply arrived, and it was just what Angie had been hoping for. They would love to see her; she could come as soon as she liked and must stay with them for as long as she wanted.

  Danny was in the front room, gazing aimlessly out of the window and tracing the raindrops with his finger as they trickled down the glass. She walked up to him with a bright smile on her face. ‘We’re going on holiday tomorrow, Danny. Come and help me pack our cases.’

  He got down from the armchair he’d been perched on and walked beside her. ‘Where we going?’

  ‘To a beautiful farm in the country. It’s got horses, sheep, cows, dogs and cats, and lots of other animals.’ She took his hand as they made their way upstairs, relieved to see a flash of interest in his eyes.

  ‘Have they got a tractor and things?’

  ‘Lots – you’ll be able to have a ride on them.’

  Once in the bedroom she pulled a suitcase off the top of the wardrobe and tossed it on the bed. ‘Would you like that?’

  She nearly cried with relief when the dimpled smile appeared, but she controlled herself, knowing it was important to act naturally around him while he was so troubled.

  He was more of a hindrance than a help with the packing, but she couldn’t stop smiling. This was the most animated she’d seen him for some days, as he trotted around bringing her things he absolutely must take and bombarded her with questions about the animals.

  She hadn’t received the bill from the solicitor yet, but she didn’t care if this holiday took every penny of her savings. They were going to stay in Somerset until Danny was stronger. John and Hetty would make a great fuss of him, and that was what he needed: lots of people around him and new distractions.

  The train was going ever so fast! Danny knelt on the seat so he could see out better. They whizzed past houses, and now there were green trees and fields. Green was a nice colour. Something caught his attention and he pressed his nose to the glass. There were lots of sheep all white and running and jumping about. He giggled and swivelled round to his auntie. ‘There’s sheep in that field. I’ve never seen real ones before. Oh, we’ve gone past now.’ He was sorry about that; he’d have liked to watch them more. Houses again now; they weren’t such fun.

  ‘Will there be sheep where we’re going?’

  ‘Yes, darling, lots.’

  That was good. With nothing interesting to watch outside, he sat down so he could look at all the other people. There was a sudden lurch of the train, causing the truck to slip out of his fingers and tumble on to the floor. A man opposite picked it up and examined it with a deep frown on his face; then he smiled and handed it back.

  ‘Thank you,’ Danny said politely, holding the precious toy with both hands. He’d been frightened the man was going to keep it.

  ‘That’s a lovely truck.’

  The man had a nice deep voice, and Danny smiled at him, nodding.

  ‘Where did you get it?’

  ‘It was in my mummy’s special box.’ He looked down at the toy, trying not to cry. Why did his mummy go away like that? He wanted her with him.

  Angie saw the change in Danny and immediately tried to steer his thoughts away from his pain. She knew that the day would come when they could both talk about Jane without breaking down, but at the moment Danny was unhappy and couldn’t understand why she had left him.

  She made space between them and put the basket of food on the seat. ‘Are you hungry? We’ve still got quite a way to go.’

  He peered in the basket and then looked up at Angie. ‘Have we got corn sandwiches?’

  ‘Yes, corned beef, jam, biscuits and orange drink.’

  At that moment the train stopped at a station and all the passengers in their carriage got out, except the man who had picked up Danny’s toy. He was a soldier and handsome in a rugged way; although his features were strong, he had gentle, very pale blue eyes. It was hard to gauge his age, but Angie put him in his late thirties. The crown on his shoulders showed him to be an officer, and a highly decorated one. She wondered what he had been doing during the war. Those awful years had changed so many lives, and many would carry the scars, physical and mental, for a long time.

  When the train moved on again, she unwrapped the sandwiches and gave Danny one, pleased to see him eat it with enjoyment. The journey was bringing back his appetite. When he finished, she poured him a drink and was rewarded with a dimpled smile of thanks. That look always warmed her heart.

  Before taking a sandwich for herself, she held out the packet to the soldier. ‘Would you like one?’

  ‘Thank you, I am rather hungry.’ He smiled as he leant across. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘To Bridgewater.’

  ‘We’re going on holiday,’ Danny told him. ‘It’s a farm with lots of animals.’

  ‘My word, what fun that will be.’

  The soldier had a cultured, well-educated voice. He also had a very penetrating gaze, and she doubted if he missed anything. She had seen the swift glance at her left hand, devoid of rings. When he finished his sandwich, she held out the bag, but he shook his head.

  He sat back, rested one ankle across his knee and draped a strong hand over his shoe, surveying her thoughtfully. ‘I’m sorry, but I seem to have upset him by asking about the toy.’ He spoke softly so as not to disturb Danny, who now had his nose pressed to the window once again.

  ‘His mother died a short time ago and he hasn’t got over it yet.’

  ‘That’s sad. She must have been very young. How did it happen?’

  ‘She had a heart defect.’ Angie didn’t want to talk about this in front of Danny. The holiday was intended to get him away from the memories, if possible, and to help him heal. ‘Would you like a drink? I’ve only got orange drink.’

  He shook his head and gave a slight grimace that made her smile. It was obviously not his favourite kind of drink.

  After putting both feet back on the floor, he leant forward and held out his hand. ‘My name’s Robert Strachan, Bob to my friends.’

  She shook his hand. ‘I’m Angie Westwood and I’m Danny’s aunt.’

  ‘A pleasure to meet you,
Angie.’ He sat back again. ‘And Danny’s mother had a special box she kept the toy in?’

  She merely nodded, puzzled about his return to the subject of the truck.

  ‘Do you know where she got it?’

  ‘No idea.’ She frowned at him. ‘You seem very interested in a wooden toy.’

  ‘Do I?’ One eyebrow lifted. ‘I have a nephew about Danny’s age and thought he might like one.’

  She gave him a disbelieving look. That answer had been plucked out of nowhere – not the truth. His whole demeanour was relaxed, casual, until you looked into his eyes. This was more than idle curiosity. With a smile he changed the subject.

  ‘Are you staying in Bridgewater?’

  Angie shook her head. ‘We are going to the Sawyers’ farm in Huntstile.’

  ‘Really.’ The smile was enticing. ‘How do you come to know the Sawyers?’

  ‘I was evacuated down here with my cousin, Jane, after our parents were killed in a raid.’

  He sat up straight. ‘Was your cousin Jane Harris?’

  ‘Yes – did you meet her?’ Angie’s heart leapt in anticipation. Jane had mentioned in her letters that there was a camp near by and that one of the officers came to dinner now and again. But she had never gone into detail. Could this be Danny’s father? She studied him carefully, but he was dark and nothing like Danny. Jane had said her son was like his father.

  ‘Yes. I know the Sawyers well and often went there for a meal. Your cousin was a delightful girl.’ He gazed at Danny for some moments, then back at Angie. ‘I wouldn’t have thought she was old enough to have a young son.’

  ‘No, she was much too young.’ Angie felt the rage rush through her, as it always did when she thought about some man taking advantage of her cousin. Jane had chatted away in her letters, telling her of the people she’d met, but Angie couldn’t recall a Robert Strachan being mentioned. She must have known him, though, so why hadn’t she mentioned him? She was beginning to realize that her outgoing cousin had been secretive about some parts of her life while at the farm.