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had let her down at a time when she needed us the most. That she would not abort the child and that she could not marry the father. She said she would bring up her child herself and that as long as we did not try to find her, she would send us a photo of the


baby every year on its birthday, for old times’ sake. But if we made any attempt to find her then she would break all contact with us. Betty and I decided that some news of our daughter was better than none, so we agreed. Cynthia had a baby girl twenty-eight years ago. Every birthday after that, she sent us a photo. Seeing our grandchild grow year by year and finding that we were missing our child too, Betty and I began fighting and blaming each other for what happened. In the end, the pressure was too much for our marriage. We first separated, and later divorced fifteen years ago. Cynthia wrote of her disappointment is us. She sent one last photograph of our granddaughter. Our granddaughter was 12 years old in it. We never heard from Cynthia again for the next five years. Then suddenly I received a letter from her. She told us that she was dying. That finally she came to realise how hard parenthood was. That she had promised to always be there for her daughter. But when Tizzy’s father died she was unable to cope with his loss and had taken to drinking. Her daughter began keeping very late hours, dancing away till the early hours of the morning. Then one night Trizella was brutally attacked. Had it not been for a couple of men who had come out of the dance hall to have a cigarette, she would have been raped, maybe even killed. When Cynthia learnt of it, drunk as she was, she accused her of ‘asking’ for it with the way she dressed, and the hours that she kept. Trizella left home that night, taking all the money in her personal bank account. Her father it seems had made large deposits on a regular basis. I guess it was his way of making up for not being there for Trizella. Cynthia was sure Trizella would be able to cope on her own and at twenty-one would inherit not only a home but also a substantial amount of money from her father’s estate. She said she did have one regret, that in her anger at our divorce, she had told Trizella that her grandparents had died in an accident. That was our last communication from her. We searched everywhere for Trizella. The letter was postmarked Broome, but no one in Broome had heard of either of them. We lived in dread for a couple of years. Dreading every phone calls in case it was the police with the bad news. Dreading the papers, in case we read her name. In her letter the only clue that I had about my grandchild was that her name was Trizella. I didn’t know if my daughter lived under an alias. And I didn’t know what surname she had given her daughter.” Peter saw Roger and Becky listen with rapt attention.




“I am sorry to hear all this Peter, I really am, but how can you be sure that, Trizella is Tizzy.” Roger asked


“Cynthia had the same breathing problem. I think Tizzy is about the same age as what Trizella would be now. I am sure of it. Her features resemble her mothers.” Then looking at Becky he said “And I think Becky is sure of it too.”


“Tizzy has not told me much of her past. But I do know she was attacked once. And that she left home as a result of that attack. And that she was disappointed that her mother had not stood up for her.” Becky said “but the two incidents could be totally unrelated and mere coincidences.”


Peter reached into his back pocket and took out a wallet. From it he produced a photo. In it a twelve-year-old child was smiling back. Her brown hair fell in gentle curls around her shoulder. You could call her a pretty child, but what made her look truly beautiful, were her eyes.


“I have never seen Tizzy without her glasses, but I can bet anything, that her eyes are cobalt blue. Becky, am I right?” Peter asked. Roger too looked at Becky questioningly.


“The deepest cobalt blue: the clearest cobalt blue. God! Can it really be true? Why haven’t you said anything to Tizzy?”


“Both Tizzy and her mother have this habit of disappearing on us. I wanted to make sure that Tizzy had reached a point when she could trust me enough to stay when I told her about us. Don’t forget that she has been told that her grandparents are dead. I was hoping to befriend her, and once she trusted me enough, I would have told her my side of things. But then the two of them had to go and fall in love. And I could see that Tizzy was going to run anyway, unless I did something about it. The girl had already resigned. I thought if I could get her to admit her feelings or to stay on at T & G Mallaby a bit longer as a result of my so-called dislike of Grant, I could buy more time. I need that time, Becky.”


“Peter even if we are sure of Tizzy’s feeling, Grant has not confirmed our suspicions. What if he is just being nice? Grant has always taken care of his employees. And since his brother’s death, he has been extra careful of any employee who has a disability.” Roger put in


“Grants parting words this morning were ‘Let’s put it this way, Branson, if Tizzy goes, as far as I am concerned, so do you’. Now why would a man jeopardise an annual quarter of a million dollar account, for a mere employee?” Peter finished


“So what do we do now? There is Trisha to think about, Tizzy’s resignation, and Grant’s feelings too.” Becky started.


“You are going to concentrate on the little baby within you, and leave the rest to both of us. You haven’t been well lately anyway.” Roger clarified.


“I agree with Roger, though I will ask you to keep an eye on Tizzy for me. I know I hurt and upset her today. Until I get a chance to explain, please put in a good word for me every now and then. I don’t want my only grandchild hating me too.” Peter said


“Look I will take care of myself, but Grant is a very good friend of mine. I think I should be the one to talk to him.” Becky argued


“Don’t tell him anything about our conversation. That all can wait till later. By the way, what’s this about Tizzy having children? The times I have been there, she has been alone and she has never spoken of them.” Peter asked


“Who told you she has children?” Becky asked


“Grant, I think he thought the news would act as a deterrent to me.” Branson smiled


“They are not her children. Tizzy does voluntary work at a cancer hospital. Their mother has cancer. Tizzy gets the children every alternate weekend, to give the parents time to rest and be by themselves. The mother is at her worst after her chemotherapy on Fridays and her husband likes to give his full attention to her needs. It’s a regular arrangement at the moment. So I just hope, it’s not going to be Grant who is going to be deterred by their presence.” Yes, thought Becky, she needed to have that talk with Grant.


“And the wedding ring? I noticed she wears one.” Peter questioned


“Even though Tizzy has pretty much recovered from that attack in physical terms, she is still emotionally scarred. She has done a lot to herself, in order to protect herself from anything like that happening again in the future. Trying to make herself look ugly and inconspicuous was one of her defenses. She had built a fortress around her against all men, but I guess she must have a guardian angel somewhere out there. In less than a week, she has two men fighting for her love. I used to pray that someone nice would come along for her. Now I hope that ‘the someone nice’, will want to stay.” Becky became pensive. A lot of relationships could be irrevocably damaged if things did not turn out as they hoped. Their little game could back fire really badly on all of them.


Roger and Peter were thinking the same. Becky’s meeting with Grant, was going to decide if


they, the ‘three match makers’ were going to get involved.










Chapter 11




Tizzy tossed and turned in bed. It was 10 pm. She had hoped to have an early start the next morning in order to make up for the time she had lost in the afternoon. Her headache had worsened and sleep was evading her. Finally she got up and made herself a cup of tea. Taking it into the lounge room she sat down in the same seat she had the night Grant had gone to sleep on the lounge. Her dogs followed her in, one sitting on either side of her.


She stared at the now empty sofa, and then the tears once again fell. She told herself she was right in taking the decision to resign. She prayed that somehow, Grant would find her replacement soon so that she could get away from work soon. She had thought that she would be able to avoid Grant for the next few months and carry on with her job as before, but she knew now that Grant did not have to be in the room, for her to feel his presence. He was now a part of her and the pain she felt was never going to ease. But at least if he was not in sight she might have a better chance of keeping him off her mind too.



Suddenly the dogs barked and Tizzy jumped out of her seat. Then the doorbell rang. Tizzy guessed it had to be someone she knew from the way the dogs were wagging their tails. She looked into the keyhole. Her heartbeat once again ceased. Wwhat was Grant doing standing outside her door at this time of the night,? Something had to be wrong. Without thinking twice she opened the door, and stuttered “G..rr..ant, is everyth..hing al right?”


Grant did not answer. He was once again mesmerized. Her eyes had the same hypnotic effect on him as they had on the night of the nightmare. He could not look away. He was almost sure he did not even blink. Words would not come out either. It was the dogs that broke the spell.


“I am sorry I did not mean to alarm you. I was passing by and your lights were on. I thought I


would just check in and see how you are feeling. I hope your headache is better?” Grant hoped he would be forgiven for his little white lie. No one passes by anywhere at this time of the night.


“I am fine. I was not able to sleep so I was having a cup of t.tea. Please come in. In fact would you like one?” she asked


“If you are sure I am not going to keep you awake longer.” he hoped he sounded genuine. The truth was he wanted to see her again, if that meant that she would miss out on a little sleep, he’d rather that than miss out on her company.


Tizzy returned with his tea. She also returned with her glasses.


“Tizzy you have the most beautiful eyes that I

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