Barbara Taylor Bradford - Letter from a Stranger

‘Such as what?’ Richard asked, glancing at her curiously.

‘He can look in the London phonebook, see if Gran’s listed, for one thing—’

‘Why not try calling the international operator?’ Richard interrupted, raising a brow. ‘Or the Internet, check it out that way.’

‘Don’t be daft!’ Justine exclaimed. ‘Talking to the international operator takes an hour, maybe even longer, and you always get routed through New Delhi or somewhere else in India, so forget that. Eddie’s my best bet.’ Justine grimaced, then finished, ‘However, I know she’s not living in London. And on second thoughts, I’ll go on the Internet later.’

‘How can you be so sure she’s not in London?’ Joanne asked.

‘Gut instinct, to be honest. But listen to me, Jo. Anita is her most longstanding, closest friend. Anita says this in the letter, very pointedly in fact. So under these awful circumstances, when you’re missing your grandchildren, have been banished from your family, wouldn’t you want to be with your closest friend? Especially if you were getting on, and Gran will be eighty this coming June.’

‘You’re right, under such circumstances I would want to be with my closest friend, which is you… Iffet will find Anita Lowe if anyone can.’

‘I hope so. And by the way, don’t go into that when you speak to her tomorrow. Just say I’m thinking of making a documentary there. I’d like to keep this situation confidential, and so would Rich.’

‘I wouldn’t have said anything to Iffet, I really wouldn’t,’ Joanne answered. ‘And anyway, you can trust me to keep your confidence. I always have.’

‘I know it wasn’t necessary to say that to you, Jo, because you’re family to me, and to Rich. But I just wanted you to be clear how I am going to handle the matter when I get there. I’ll talk about business first before bringing up Anita.’

Joanne nodded, gave her a reassuring smile.

Richard said, ‘Can’t you go with Justine? It would make me feel better, Joanne, if you could. I’m afraid I’m stuck here for the next two weeks with my big installation at the hotel in Battery Park.’

‘I’m stuck too, Richard. I just signed a contract to do the public relations on a movie being shot in Manhattan.’ Frowning, she added, ‘I don’t think I can get out of it.’

‘Nor should you even attempt to,’ Justine murmured. She put her hand on Richard’s arm lovingly. ‘I’ll be all right, Rich. I’m thirty-two like you. A grown-up. And perfectly capable of travelling alone.’

Richard smiled, hugged her to him. She was his best friend as well as his twin and the most important person in his life except for his little daughter. The thought of ever being without Justine terrified him.

Joanne said, ‘When I was working on that crazy movie over there a few years ago, Iffet was indispensable, Richard. She’ll make things easy for Justine.’

‘That puts my mind at rest,’ he murmured.

‘So when do you plan to leave?’ Joanne asked Justine.

‘Next Wednesday, the day after I’ve screened the film for Miranda, and she’s signed off. Which I know she will. By the way, I checked the airlines this afternoon. There are quite a few flights from Kennedy to Istanbul. Night flights.’

‘That’s correct, and it’s about ten hours to Istanbul. Make sure you book a direct non-stop flight, which is the best. You don’t want to have to change planes in a foreign city.’

‘I’ll take an afternoon flight, either on Delta or Turkish Airlines. Both have direct flights.’

They went on talking about Justine’s trip for a short while longer, and then eventually Joanne stood up. ‘I’d better go. Thanks for dinner, the two of you. And I’m sorry.’ She stared at them. ‘What I mean is, I’m sorry your mother did this awful thing to Gabriele, and to you. But let’s face it, this is also wonderful news – your grandmother’s alive and not dead after all, and I for one can’t wait to see her again.’

‘We know you love her,’ Richard said, walking out of the drawing room with his sister and Joanne.

They saw her to the door, but stood talking to her on the step for several minutes longer.

Justine suddenly said, ‘I used to think you were wary of our mother, Joanne. Perhaps even a bit frightened of her when we were growing up. Were you?’

‘Wary perhaps, but not frightened,’ Joanne answered, frowning to herself. ‘You know, I think I was actually in awe of her, and also rather intimidated.’

‘That’s a funny word to use,’ Richard said, scrutinizing her for a moment. ‘She wasn’t particularly intimidating. Know what, I always thought our mother was ditzy. A real flake.’

Joanne nodded in agreement. ‘She was those things, yes. I suppose I was intimidated by her beauty, that’s the best way of describing it. And the way she affected grown men was incredible. They were struck dumb when they set eyes on her. To be honest, I never thought she was a bad person. Nor did I think she could ever do something so… so cruel, so very mean.’

‘Neither did we,’ Richard said in a hollow voice.

Justine was silent.

Justine awakened with a start, lay there feeling disoriented. There was light in her bedroom and for a split second she thought it was morning. Then she realized that it was the moonlight filling the space with its soft, silvery glow.

Throwing back the bedclothes, she slid her legs to the floor, went over to one of the windows overlooking the garden and stared out. Riding high in a cloudless black sky was a huge full moon. It was extraordinarily bright; the light it gave off was unusually powerful, and she stood admiring it for a moment, then turned away, got back into bed.

Thoughts she had had before falling asleep came back, gave her a jolt, as they had earlier. Did her mother know where her grandmother was living? Obviously Justine couldn’t be sure that she did, but there was a line in Anita’s letter which suggested differently: Get in touch with her before it’s too late, Anita had written. Of course, Anita might have just been making an assumption. Unless she had the true facts, was aware that Deborah could reach out, because she knew where to contact Gabriele directly. These were some of the thoughts that had hovered at the back of her mind over dinner. She had shoved them away. Now they were back again.

There was a sudden tapping on her door; it was opened gently. ‘Justine. Are you asleep?’

‘No, Rich,’ she answered, sitting up as her brother came into the bedroom and closed the door.

‘It’s okay, I’m wide awake,’ she murmured. He sat down at the end of the bed; there was a puzzled expression on his face.

‘What is it?’ she asked, noting a flicker of concern in his eyes.

‘I woke up about half an hour ago, because something was troubling me, I guess. I was remembering what Anita said in the letter to Mom. She told her to get in touch with Gran. But look, she didn’t say where, didn’t give Mom an address.’

‘I was thinking exactly the same thing only a few minutes ago! It woke me up… well, we do have the same thoughts fairly often, don’t we?’

‘Yep. So, do you think Mom has Gran’s address?’

‘It’s hard to say. Maybe. On the other hand, Anita might merely be making an assumption that she does. Why?’

‘I was wondering if we should call Mom after all? In China. Do you know the time difference?’

‘Thirteen hours. They’re ahead of us. I don’t think we should call her, Rich, honestly I don’t.’

‘Why not?’

‘It’s dangerous.’

‘In what way?’

‘In every way. First of all, she’ll go nuts if we say that we know Gran’s still alive, and that she lied to us. She’ll deny it, shout and scream. If we challenge her, explain how we found out, she’ll say the old lady who wrote the letter has dementia, doesn’t know what she’s doing or saying. You know what she’s like, and she’ll keep on denying everything, she’ll lie in her teeth. She’ll never admit Gran’s alive. And anyway—’