For the Love of a Goblin Warrior (Shadowlands) (21 page)

It is good news you are staying in Australia. It means we can still be close. Be good for your foster mother.

All my love and prayers,

Dad

She’d never sent him anything. Her foster mother must have sent him some of her schoolwork and drawings. That would have stopped when she’d refused to even be read the letters.

But like clockwork, his letters had arrived on her birthday and at Christmas. When her pictures stopped being sent he never mentioned it. No letters begged for her to come and see him, and none proclaimed his innocence. Tears trickled down her cheek and splashed on her hand. All were about how much he loved and missed her. He’d never stopped loving her, even when she’d stopped loving him.

She swallowed, even though her throat was blocked with years of unshed tears. Maybe if she had been able to remember what had happened that night her father wouldn’t have been found guilty. It was her fault. She’d always known that. It was why she’d refused to see him or read his letters. She was afraid he would blame her—yet not one letter pointed the finger at her. He hadn’t just lost his wife that night; he’d lost his daughter too.

Her eyes closed in sudden understanding. Her heart swelled and made breathing impossible. Meryn had lost his wife and children; that was why he’d reacted so passionately about her cutting off her father. She was alive and still had a chance to speak to her father. For Meryn that opportunity was lost.

Had her father ever thought she was lost to him?

She reread through the letters but found nothing. The letters he sent to her were hopeful…even the last one, sent after he’d left prison.

Dearest Nadine,

I hope you are well and that you are happy.

I am beginning my life again. I realize you may not wish to contact me, but if you choose to, I would very much like to hear your voice. If not, I shall write again for your birthday. It is hard to believe twenty years have passed and you are no longer my little girl.

All my love and prayers,

Dad

She stared at the phone number at the bottom of the letter. One phone call and she would know the answer. And then?

Then she would be free and maybe the nightmares would stop. Her smile didn’t banish her tears, but she didn’t care. She got up and went to find the phone.

***

After a fitful sleep, Nadine turned off her alarm and lay still for a moment longer. Her stomach was knotted. It was nerves, she knew that, but she didn’t know how to settle them.

When she was younger, she’d imagined what it would be like to see her father again. At first it was excitement and a happy reunion; as a teen she’d thought she’d be cool and aloof to prove he couldn’t hurt her and she didn’t care.

Now she had no idea.

The phone call had been hard to make. Neither of them sure what to say, only that maybe meeting in person would be easier—of course he’d waited for her to suggest it, but she’d heard the happiness in his voice and it had made her sad that meeting her in a public place for a few minutes could make him feel so joyous. Had he had nothing to be happy about in twenty years?

Probably not. What a waste of a life.

Nadine sucked in a breath and got out of bed. She dressed and went into the living area, hoping Gina was home. She was painting her toenails with her foot propped on the coffee table.

Gina lifted her head. “You ready to do this?”

“As I’ll ever be.” After calling her father she’d phoned Gina. Of course Gina had to go with her.

Gina wriggled her toes and nodded. “I’m dry enough to travel.” She looked at Nadine. “How about I drive?”

Nadine handed over the keys without argument. It wasn’t long before Gina was parking the car a short way away from their meeting spot, a popular coffeehouse.

“Are you ready to do this?”

Nadine bit her lip and nodded. She’d been waiting most of her life to re-meet her father. “What if he’s horrible?” she said quietly.

It was the one thing that had been tormenting her since calling him. Maybe she was rushing this, acting on impulse before thinking things through.

But then she thought of Meryn and the look in his eyes when he talked about his children. He’d give anything to see them one more time.

“Then you don’t have to stay.” Gina twisted in the car seat to look at her. “One cup of coffee. Hell, you don’t even need to order. Just get a glass of water. I’ll sit where I can see you. It will be fine.”

It’ll be fine.

If she told herself that enough times maybe it would be. She was down to half a glass of water. He was late, by five minutes—but that was better than early. At least she’d had time to get seated, and try and put on a calm face, instead of revealing the stressed-out crazy person running around inside her. She glanced at Gina, but Gina was flicking through a magazine and enjoying a giant iced coffee.

How much longer should she wait? Maybe he’d gotten cold feet. Was this as hard for him as it was for her?

“Nadine?”

Her head snapped up and she was looking at an old man with graying hair. His skin was darker than hers, but his eyes were the same. A muddy mix of green and brown. He’d always said they were from his missionary father—the only thing he’d gotten from him.

What did she call him? He wasn’t Daddy anymore, but Solomon seemed too cold and impersonal.

“Hi.” Her cheeks tightened with a nervous smile and her eyes darted once again to Gina, who was now taking a long drink from her iced coffee. “Have a seat. Umm. Did you want to order anything?”

“I’m good, thank you for asking.” He sat and scanned her as if looking for something he recognized. “You…you grew up.”

Nadine nodded, her throat suddenly tight.

“I’m very grateful you called. I never expected it.” Solomon clasped his hands and rested them on the table.

“You wrote every birthday and Christmas.” And every time he must have hoped for a reply.

“I never stopped caring about you. I didn’t want you to think I’d forgotten you.”

“I hated the letters. They reminded me of what had happened.” Her voice wavered and she had to blink back the tears that burned her eyes. She wasn’t going to cry in front of him. Cool and composed. This was a simple meeting to find out some details.

Solomon lowered his gaze to his hands. A cross was tattooed, prison style, on the back of his left hand. “I’m sorry. I wanted to do the right thing.”

“I grew up being told you did it, the newspapers said you did it, but you maintained you didn’t.”

“I love Michaline. I love you. If I had been there—”

“So you weren’t there?” Most nights it was just Nadine and her mother while Solomon drove a taxi. He used to tell her tales of all the movie stars and princes and princesses he drove around. And she’d believed him.

“I was looking for fares. I wish I’d given up and come home sooner. I would’ve done anything to protect her and you.”

She watched him as he spoke. He didn’t seem to be lying. But then he’d had two decades to perfect the lie. No fares meant no alibi. These days there was GPS tracking and no doubt of his whereabouts; there would also be more extensive forensic testing. How different would her life have been? She squashed the thought. Musing about the past wouldn’t change it, no, but it could be reexamined.

“You didn’t do it?”

“I came home and found you under the table crying. I rang the police. That was the last time I saw you.” His face crumpled for a moment before he regained his composure. He was fighting to stay calm, just as hard as she was.

“Why not reopen the case and prove your innocence? Why serve all those extra years?” Why leave her adrift in foster homes?

“Why? Would it bring your mother back? Would it give you back your childhood and the family you deserved? I know the truth and I don’t need the rest of the world to understand.”

“
I
need to understand.”

“Nadine, if I’d asked for the case to be reexamined everything would have been dragged out again. The lawyers would’ve dragged you into it because you were the only witness. The media would’ve ripped into your life.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t do that to you. I won’t do that to you.”

She bit her lip. “You never asked for a retrial because of me?”

“What else could I do?”

She didn’t know. If he was guilty, it was a good excuse. If he was innocent, it was the ultimate sacrifice. There was no way for her father to prove he didn’t kill her mother without everything being scrutinized. She’d never liked being the center of attention. Only a handful of people knew about her life.

“I don’t know.” She wanted to believe him, but there was something…something he wasn’t saying, but she couldn’t accuse him of anything based on a vague hunch.

Solomon pursed his lips and nodded. “You have a good life now?”

“I’m a nurse.”

“Well done. I’m very proud of you.”

It was all too late. He should have been there when she graduated. She glanced up at the ceiling, trying to clear her eyes of the tears trying to form. “You got your horticulture degree.”

“Your mother always wanted me to do what I loved, instead of driving cabs.”

She knew the story of how they’d met. Her mum had been a teacher at a school and her father the gardener. Their relationship had raised eyebrows and been a scandal in her grandmother’s social circles. They’d married in secret, and when her grandmother had found out, she’d disowned Michaline. They’d come to Australia to start a new life.

“Do you have children?” Solomon asked hopefully.

Nadine shook her head. How did she tell him that because of him she’d been afraid to put her heart on the line?

“I don’t expect to be part of your life again. But I would like it if we could keep in touch.”

“Birthdays and Christmases?”

“I’d like that. I realize it must be hard for you to trust me after everything. I just hope you can eventually forgive me for not fighting to clear my name.”

“I’m sorry I said nothing.” If she’d remembered what had happened, she might have been able to keep her father out of prison.

“You were a child. I was told how traumatized you were; they tried to use that against me. It’s why I let the thought of a retrial go. I couldn’t put you through more when it was obvious you didn’t remember.”

The breaking glass was all she saw. Surely the police must have wondered why he’d broken a window? They must have questioned the lack of a body. “I still don’t remember.”

“It’s okay. You aren’t to blame. The animal who took your mother is.”

“Do you know who it was?” And if she knew, what then? Would that prove her father was innocent if she could blame someone else?

Solomon looked out the window then back at her. “No.”

That wasn’t the entire truth. Was that his secret? Was he protecting someone? Suddenly she didn’t want to be sitting here with him even though they were surrounded by people.

“Okay.” Aside from knowing why her father had never fought the conviction she had no other answers. “I should probably get going.”

“Thank you for seeing me. I appreciate how difficult it must have been for you.”

He was still concerned about her, even though he’d served twenty years for a crime he probably didn’t commit—but knew something about.

“Thank you for coming.” It seemed so formal and awkward. “Maybe we can meet again some time.” Or maybe not. Maybe just the odd phone call until he told her what he knew.

“I’d like that.” Her father stood. “I do some volunteer work at Kings Park if you’re ever there.”

Nadine’s heart jumped but she said nothing. She didn’t want to share that she ran there. Not yet. It seemed too personal to let him in on her routine. Should she find a new running route? But that would take her away from Meryn. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“That would be nice.” He smiled. It was the one she remembered from when she was little and he would build a block tower just so she could knock it down. “Take care, Nadine.”

He walked out of the café and left her sitting with too many questions and not enough answers or time or tears. If she could remember what happened that night, she’d know if her father was innocent and what he was hiding. Without those memories, all she had was his word. Was that enough?

Chapter 14

Meryn read the instructions again. They were perfectly clear on how he should operate the phone, but they didn’t tell him what he should say. He forced out a short sigh. Dwelling on what might happen wouldn’t change anything. Sometimes the only thing to do was act. He dialed the number before he could talk himself out of it again, and waited while the phone made chirping noises.

“Meryn.” Dai’s voice floated near his ear like magic. He knew it wasn’t; it was just another piece of technology he’d have to learn how to use properly and eventually understand.