A Fall from Grace - Maggie Ford (have you read this book TXT) 📗

what worried her was that Anthony would look on the child as a disruption to their relationship, a fear that grew in strength as the months passed. She’d even begun to question what she really wanted, her baby returned to her or her relationship with Anthony to continue. Somehow it seemed that she couldn’t have the two. Yet she longed to hold her baby – it was always a baby she saw despite James’s words, recalling still that warm soft skin against her face, hearing that one tiny whimper before it was snatched out of her arms by an alarmed nurse.

Maybe if she explained, Anthony would understand how she felt, yet whenever she lay in his arms, happy and fulfilled after having made such glorious and prolonged love, courage always failed her.

It was taking so long. October, and still no trace. Then in November came a letter saying the agent had finally located her. ‘Living in Derbyshire,’ James said after first reading the letter to himself. ‘Jones, the name of those who adopted her named her Caroline but call her Carrie by all account.’

Like a dog, came the thought, tearing at her. Treated like a dog? ‘Here, Carrie!’ Yes, like a dog.

‘What does the agent say about her?’ she cried, overwhelmed by a fierce onslaught of excitement coupled with an instant need to protect. ‘Does she seem well? Is she being well treated?’

The old fear of her having been brought up forced to do harsh manual work, maybe living in squalor, uncared for, maybe even having to endure ill treatment, such thoughts had always torn at her.

‘Exceedingly well by all account,’ James told her. ‘Those who adopted her are reasonably well off and already have her name down for a reputable girls’ public school when she is old enough. The report says she appears to have everything she could wish for and is apparently well loved and is, so we are told, a normal, happy, contended child.’

It was no consolation. In truth, although she would not admit it even to herself, it would have helped her case in getting her back had she been in need of love and attention. Not that she’d have intentionally wished that on her baby.

‘There is, however, a snag, my dear.’ James went on, his eyes on the agent’s report. ‘The adoptive parents are reluctant to have you see her or she to see you. They also fear that you might have a claim on her as the rightful mother, having not given her up willingly, she being taken from you against your will.’

Of course they’d be reluctant, was Madeleine’s first thought, her mind going instantly to some ulterior motive the agent might have missed, though she couldn’t imagine what, other than love for their adopted child.

‘So I cannot see what else you can do,’ James was saying, ‘except to content yourself that she is well loved and happy. If you love her, my dear, don’t take that away from her. It would be so cruel, torn from the only people she has ever known and loved, to be forced to live with strangers. I don’t think you could bring yourself to do that to her, my dear.’

Was he trying to be just, or saying this so that he could wash his hands of the whole business? You’ve done your duty and now you can rest, relieved you won’t be saddled with a small child in your life. She’s nothing to you. But what about me, my feelings, my love, my need of her, my desperate need of her? These thoughts screamed in her head.

‘No!’ she burst out. ‘How do you know if that’s the truth? They could have bribed these enquiry people of yours to say good things about her.’

James was frowning, finding his urgent and dedicated search for the sake of the woman he had married and felt indebted to, being questioned.

‘They are a reputable firm.’ His voice was sharp. ‘As a businessman I made certain they were. Why would you think I wouldn’t?’

Because at your age you don’t want her under your feet, that’s why. But she said nothing. But tears had begun to slip down her cheeks, tears she felt she had not the strength even to lift her hand to wipe away.

‘If you are absolutely set on this, my dear,’ he went on in a smoother tone, seeing her grief, ‘I could offer these people, say two thousand pounds to let you see her, and, let’s say twice that if they forgo their right to her. If they refuse, however, there is little we can do except resort to a probably lengthy legal battle, which could take years.’

Madeleine found her voice. ‘How could they refuse such a sum?’ With two thousand pounds, one could buy several decent sized houses. She tried not to acknowledge that James was being almost overgenerous for her sake.

‘It was merely a suggestion,’ he was saying. ‘They are pretty well off, apparently, and totally unable to have children of their own, so why would they relinquish her now, for any amount of money – a child they love dearly? They have, however, made one gesture. That is, in the guise of, say, a distant friend, they agree to let you see her but not to talk to her.’

‘But I want her back!’ Madeleine burst into a sudden flood of tears.

Having slowly stood up at her outburst, he now gazed down at her as she sank down on the sofa, now sobbing outright. ‘I’ve done all I can,’ he said firmly as if hanging on to patience. ‘There’s nothing more I can do.’

‘There has to be,’ she wailed, but his voice remained steely.

‘I’m afraid not, my dear. I suggest you content yourself with merely going to see her to reassure yourself that she’s happy and well cared for…’

‘I can’t do that!’ she broke in.

He’d not moved to comfort her; merely stood looking at her, his voice remaining passive as he spoke again, the words biting into