Chapter 50: Cora - The Foster Child

‘I can’t wait to see Nan and Grandad,’ Lori says as I drive over to my parents’ house.

She reaches out and switches the car radio on, turning it to a channel that plays the current hits. It’s good to see that she’s cheered up and is looking more rested now, although a faint bruise is still evident underneath her makeup. I resolve to talk to her about it again after Christmas, when she’s had a chance to relax more. She might be more prepared to talk about Jacob once she’s spent a few days away from him. I’m going to see if I can get her to change her course to another university, rather than quit it, because I think she will regret that. I want her to leave Exeter university though, I don’t want her anywhere near Jacob. If she goes to a uni near here we could see a lot more of each other.

We have a lovely time catching up on each other’s news, Lori has always been close to my parents. We spend a few hours with them, exchanging cards and presents. Mum plies us with homemade cake and multiple cups of tea, and Dad sends us back with a few carrots and some kale from his greenhouse. He still manages to keep up with a bit of gardening despite his illness.

‘Are you sure that you don’t want to change your mind and come and spend Christmas Day with us?’ I ask them. ‘You can come back with us now and stop for a couple of days if you want. We have another spare room. Or I’ll pick you up Christmas morning and drop you back off later that evening, if you don’t want to be away from home too long.’ I hate to think of them spending it alone.

‘Oh no, we’re fine, love, just the two of us,’ Mum says, patting Dad’s hand. ‘We’ve got our day’s TV viewing sorted out and a nice turkey breast. We’ll have a lovely quiet day.’

It wasn’t that long ago when Mum and Dad used to go away for Christmas. They had a big group of friends and were always out, but then Dad’s rheumatoid arthritis got worse so they don’t go far now. ‘We’ve got lots of good memories to sit and talk about,’ they both say.

‘Lori is such a lovely girl,’ Mum says when I go in the kitchen to help her wash up, leaving Lori chatting to Dad. ‘And so well-mannered. She joins in the conversation and doesn’t keep checking her phone every few minutes as most youngsters do today.’

It hits me then that I haven’t seen Lori check her phone once since she’s been here. In fact, I haven’t even seen her with a phone. That seems a bit strange. She’s twenty, surely she has friends who keep in touch with her.

Unless she’s turned it off so that Jacob can’t contact her. Just how dangerous is he, I wonder. Did he hit her, as I suspect, and Lori is worried about her safety – I remember how jumpy she was when Violet called by the other day, thinking it was Jacob. The thought of what he might have done to my daughter, and how scared she is of him, makes me sick to the stomach.

I don’t know anything for certain, but I’m determined to persuade Lori to confide in me over the holidays so that I can help her.

I text Elliot to let him know that we’re on the way home and he replies,

I’m tied up here for a bit. I’ll fix myself something to eat but why don’t you and Lori do some last-minute shopping and eat out? Make a day of it.

That sounds a good idea. I’m really enjoying spending quality time with my daughter.

I shoot Lori a questioning look. ‘Elliot’s busy with work so he suggested we go shopping then treat ourselves to something to eat. Do you fancy it?’

Her face lights up. ‘That’d be great. I haven’t had time to get you and Elliot a present yet, so maybe you can give me a few pointers for Elliot when we’re out.’

‘Oh don’t spend your money on us, we have what we need,’ I tell her.

‘I want to get you both something. It can double up as a housewarming.’ She turns to Mum. ‘Have you seen Elliot’s cottage, Nan? It’s stunning.’

I feel guilty because my parents haven’t seen it yet. I’ve only been there a couple of months and there hasn’t been a chance to bring them over yet.

‘Not yet, darling, but we’ve seen photos and it looks very nice,’ Mum tells her.

‘We’ll pick you up in the new year and bring you over for lunch,’ I promise.

‘That will be nice, but there’s no rush, love. Get yourself settled in first,’ Dad tells me. ‘I’m sure you’ve had a lot going on.’

If only he knew!

After another cup of tea and a slice of Mum’s sponge cake we set off for the shops.

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