"If it's the same one she told me about, then she tore it up," said Sarah.
"Still, she'll remember what was in it. I really do need to talk to her."
Sarah shook her head firmly. "Not now, Cooper. She's paranoid about the police at the moment, what with last night, and Jack being carted off in handcuffs at lunchtime. Okay, I know none of it's your fault, but you've got to show her a little compassion."
"Don't make me insist," he begged. "I really don't have a choice on this one. We can't hold Duncan indefinitely without some very concrete evidence and, once he walks, he'll be free to tidy up anything we've missed."
She sighed and took one of his large hands in hers. "Look, I'm going to tell you something that, strictly speaking, I shouldn't because it's Ruth's secret and not mine, but I'd trust you with my life, Cooper, so I think I can trust you with Ruth's." She gave the hand, a quick squeeze before releasing it to reach across for Jack's, her eyes creasing with affection. "Why do you think this silly sod has been charging about like a bull in a china shop? He says what he's done is rational and sensible. You and I know it isn't. Rather belatedly, he's discovered that he has some very powerful paternal feelings which, because he's the generous soul he is, he does not intend to limit to his own offspring. He is acting in lieu of Ruth's dead father because he wants her to know that there is someone in this shitty world who loves her."
Jack raised her fingers to his lips. "Two people," he corrected her.
She held his gaze for a moment. "Two people," she agreed. She took her hand away and transferred her attention back to Cooper. "Ruth is so vulnerable at the moment that if she's put under any more pressure, then I can guarantee she'll withdraw from reality in the way that Joanna clearly has done and Mathilda probably did as well. It's almost as if there's a self-destructive gene in the family that triggers the withdrawal." She shook her head. "Whatever it is, Ruth is not going the same way, not if Jack and I can prevent it. She's pregnant, Cooper. I know she doesn't look it, but she's almost at the legal cut-off point, and if she doesn't make up her mind very quickly about having the pregnancy terminated, then she'll have to go through with it. Jack was trying to buy her the peace and quiet she needs to reach a decision, because as yet she hasn't had the chance to do it."
Cooper absorbed all this in grave silence. "Are you helping her reach her decision?" he asked at last.
"I've given her all the information I can, but I don't like to say, do this or do that. It's her mother's role to give advice but Joanna doesn't even know about the rape, let alone about the pregnancy."
"Hmm," grunted Cooper, pursing his lips in deep thought. "Well, I certainly don't intend to add to the poor girl's problems," he said at last. "I'm sure her grandmother wouldn't demand justice for herself before consideration for her granddaughter. If she was that way inclined she'd have reported Ruth for thieving when she was still alive." He stood up and buttoned his coat about him, preparatory to leaving. "But, if you'll forgive the impertinence, Dr. Blakeney, you must take your responsibilities as her adopted mother, temporary or otherwise, a great deal more seriously. It's no good giving her information and leaving it up to her to decide, without making it very clear that you believe it's in her best interests to have an abortion. The chances are she'll scream and yell, say you don't love her and don't care tuppence for her feelings, but parenting is not about patting oneself on the back for being understanding and liberal, it's about guidance, education and training to help the child you love become a man or woman you can respect." He nodded a friendly goodbye and made for the door, only to pause as he saw Ruth in the shadows of the hall.
"I've been listening," she said, her wretched eyes full of tears. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."
"There, there," said Cooper, gruff with embarrassment, pulling a large white handkerchief from his pocket and offering it to her. "I'm the one who should apologize. I'd no business to interfere."
Her eyes brimmed again. "I don't mind about what you said. I was thinking-if only-you said you wished your children had had my opportunities-do you remember?"
He nodded. He had indeed said that, he thought with chagrin.
"Well, I was just thinking-I wish"-she gave him a watery smile-"I wish I'd had theirs. I hope they appreciate you, Sergeant Cooper." She took a letter from hei pocket and gave it to him. "It's Granny's," she said. "1 didn't throw it away, but I couldn't show it to you because she talks about my stealing." A tear splashed on to her hand. "I really did love her, you know, but she died thinking I didn't, and that's almost worse than everything else."
"Yes," he said gently, "I'm sure it is, because there's nothing you can do to mend it."
"Not ever."
"Well, as to ever-that I couldn't say. In this life, the best any of us can do is learn from our mistakes and try not to make them again. We're none of us infallible, Ruth, but we owe it to ourselves and to those around us to act with whatever wisdom we possess. Otherwise, how will mankind ever improve?"
She pressed her lips together to hold back the tears. "And you think it would be wise for me to have an abortion?"
"Yes," he said with absolute honesty, "I do." He placed his broad palm against her stomach. "At the moment you're not quite old enough or tough enough to be a mother and father to another human being, and you're too riddled by guilt over your grandmother, and what you see as your betrayal of her, to give this baby away to someone else." He smiled rather shyly. "That's not to say I expect you to agree with me or that I'll turn my back on you if you decide to have your baby. Dr. Blakeney's quite right when she says it's your choice. But I'd rather see you pregnant when you've lived a little and found a man you can love who loves you, too. Then your babies will be wanted and you'll be free to be the kind of mother you want to be."
She tried to thank him, but the words wouldn't come, so Cooper took her in his arms instead and held her tight. Behind them, Sarah turned a tear-streaked face to Jack. "Remind me of this," she whispered, "whenever I get complacent. I've just learnt how little I really know."
My dear Ruth [Mathilda had written], Your mother and I have fallen out over a letter written by my uncle Gerald Cavendish shortly before he died, making Joanna his heir. She is threatening to take me to court over it because she believes she can use it to overturn my father's will. She won't succeed, but I have been unable to convince her of that. She feels understandably aggrieved and wants to punish me. I realize now there has been too much secrecy within this family and so I am writing to you now to acquaint you with the knowledge she already has, because I do not want you to learn about it from her. She will not, I think, tell you kindly. James Gillespie was not your mother's father. Gerald Cavendish was. I realize how shocked you will be by this information but I urge you to do what I have done all these years and see it as something that happened which should not be regretted. You may find this hard to believe but, despite everything, I have always been fond of your mother, as indeed I have been fond of you.
I am faced now with a difficult choice. I am aware, my dear, that you have been stealing from me for some months. I am aware, too, that your mother has given up on life and prefers the twilight world of drug dependency and the casual relationships that give her the illusion of being loved without the ties of responsibility. You are both allowing yourselves to be abused by men and, in view of my own history, I find that deeply disheartening. I realize I have failed you, and have decided, therefore, to set you both free to make your own decisions about your futures.