The Secret Mother. Lee Wilkinson

      CHAPTER ONE

      FROM the window of her small sitting-room, adjoining the nursery, Caroline watched the snow falling on Morningside Heights. Soft, feathery flakes, swirling from a night sky, piled up against the glass and wrapped the trees in a white shroud.

      All at once she shivered.

      Snow always made her remember. Brought back the past with cruel clarity. But as the years went by surely the hurt would grow less, the emotional scars heal as the physical ones had?

      The mirror no longer showed any sign of them, and even her sensitive fingertips could find no trace. True, she still looked hollow-cheeked, older than her years, but ironically, with her remodelled face, she was almost beautiful now, whereas before she bad been merely attractive.

      A tap at the door broke into Caroline’s thoughts.

      ‘I hope I’m not disturbing you?’ Lois Amesbury, her employer, was always scrupulously polite, as well as being pleasant and friendly. ‘Only I thought you should know things are finally settled. My husband needs to take up his post at Burbeck Hospital before the new year, so we’ll be moving to California during the Christmas break...’

      Their decision to move back to the west coast had been mentioned and discussed previously, but Caroline had tried not to think about it.

      It was more than two years since the Amesburys had taken a chance, after hearing a little of her story, and employed the quiet, sad-eyed woman to be nanny to their twin girls, now three years old.

      She was established here, secure, and, if not happy, she was at least relatively content. The move meant an upheaval, a parting Caroline had been dreading.

      ‘I’ll miss New York,’ Lois went on, taking the chair opposite, ‘but I’m looking forward to practising law in Oakland, and we’ll be virtually next door to my folks. Mom can’t wait to take charge of the children...’

      Children that had helped to fill Caroline’s empty arms and empty heart.

      ‘Though I have a sneaking suspicion she’ll spoil them rotten—’ Suddenly glimpsing the desolation the younger woman was trying hard to hide, Lois broke off abruptly.

      After a moment she went on with a practical air, ‘What I really came to tell you was, this afternoon Sally Danvers rang me at the office to ask if you would be looking for another situation. She knows of a wealthy businessman who needs a reliable nanny and is willing to pay top rates.

      ‘There’s one child, a girl of about the same age as my two. Her father is either a widower or a divorcé; I’m not sure which. Not that it matters... The little girl’s grandmother had been taking care of her, but a few months ago the old lady died quite suddenly.

      ‘I gather the nanny who took over then couldn’t win the child’s confidence. The poor little mite didn’t like her, and preferred to stay with the housekeeper. When her father discovered how things were he asked the woman to leave, so he needs someone trustworthy who can start immediately. He’ll be home tomorrow morning if you would like time off to go and see him.’

      ‘Oh, but I can’t start immediately...’

      Lois, dark-haired and elegant, waved away the protest. ‘I cleared my office desk today and I’ll be at home until we move, so if you decide to take the job, I’m sure I can manage. You’ve been an absolute godsend, and I’m very grateful. That’s why I’d like to see you happily settled before we leave.

      ‘The man’s name is Matthew Carran. He lives in the Baltimore building on Fifth Avenue. I’ve written the address and the telephone number on here...’

      She passed over a folded sheet of paper.

      ‘Well, I guess I’d better hurry. We’ve tickets for a concert at the Octagon Hall, if the snow’s not too bad...’

      But, though Caroline had automatically accepted the piece of paper, she’d heard nothing since the name Matthew Carran.

      Shock had made the blood drum in her ears and brought a hovering darkness that threatened to swamp her. As the door closed behind her employer she swayed forward and put