Dark Days: The Long Road Home ✪ free preview

Chapter 3.2

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Gemma had no doubt about what had happened – and part of her wished she'd never agreed to let Matty Spencer write that damn paper. Maybe she would have been better off not knowing what was in store.

With no idea what the following days held, a feeling of helplessness began to fill her. How was she going to get back home? It was almost three hundred miles to her farm. It hardly seemed possible that a few hours ago she was boarding the train, anxious about seeing Christopher again after all these years. Home suddenly seemed so far away.

Gemma pulled little CJ's photo out, the cheeky smile on his sweet young face bringing a lump to her throat. What sort of world would he grow up in?

CJ had been understandably withdrawn, and as he started to realize his mother was never going to walk through the front door again, he began clinging to Gemma whenever she went around to Daphne's to see him. As though afraid she would leave him too. They were the closest thing Gemma had to a family. Caroline had been the sister Gemma always wanted, and Daphne had always been there for her through her tumultuous teenage years, stepping in long before her mother died.

And now it was Gemma's turn to step in, to raise young CJ. The possibility had terrified her – it still did. She had no idea how to be a mother, how to raise a child. It never really crossed her mind that Christopher wouldn't take CJ on when she told him he was his father. The Daley's were big on family.

Her biggest fears that morning had revolved around the fact CJ would most likely grow up in the city, her and Daphne speculating on how often either of them would get to see him, and if he would still call her aunt Gem Gem when the Daley's swallowed him into their family.

"Is that your son?" Anne leaned over to look at the photograph.

Gemma drew in a deep, shaky breath, her eyes going to Christopher. He was deep in thought, his dark eyes somewhere else, and she wondered what was going through his mind. She was still having trouble believing he'd been so dismissive when she told him CJ was his son.

"No," Gemma said softly, "he's Christopher's son."

"Oh," Anne said, obviously surprised. "I didn't realize he had a child ... I would have thought – after all that trouble with Melinda... " Anne trailed off, her brow creasing with confusion as she looked up at Christopher.

Gemma knew who Melinda was, she'd heard Christopher had gotten married a few months after the school anniversary dinner, but it hadn't lasted long from what she knew. The Daley's were often a subject of gossip in their small community.

"He didn't know until today," Gemma told Anne.

"He didn't? Well, that makes sense then," Anne said thoughtfully, a look of sly curiosity flitting across her face. "How did he take the news that he was a father?"

Gemma looked down at the photograph again. "He said it wasn't possible. He didn't even want to talk about it – then – then this happened."

"Where's the boy's mother?" Anne asked.

"She – she died. A couple of weeks ago."

"You were close to her?" Anne's hand closed over Gemma's, squeezing gently.

Gemma nodded, her breath catching in her throat. "She was like a sister to me."

Christopher was coming towards them when Gemma looked up again, his face set and determined. A flash of anger rose in her, that he could turn his back on his own child so easily. What sort of a man did that?

But she knew that if she was honest, her anger went deeper that. She was annoyed with herself, angry that after all these years he could still affect her like this. That as he strode across the room, she felt not only anger, but desire, even after all this time.

"Give him a chance, love. It's a lot to take on," Anne hesitated a moment before continuing. "Our Christopher had a hard time of it with Melinda ... " she trailed off, obviously not wanting to say anymore about the man she worked for.

Looking suddenly uncertain, Christopher paused, running a hand through his thick, dark hair, the frustration and the worry no doubt mirroring exactly what he saw in her own eyes.

Patting Gemma's hand, Anne got to her feet. "I think I need a stiff drink, then I will be heading home to my babies."

"Babies?" Gemma said.

"My dogs," Anne smiled ruefully. "They don't like the dark."

"Oh," Gemma said. "Do you live far?"

"Not as far as you, dear," Anne said, then walked swiftly across the room towards Sasha, who was now chugging back vodka straight from the bottle.

Smoothly swiping the bottle right out of Sasha's hand, Anne said, "I believe you have had more than enough."

Gemma chuckled at the look on Sasha's face as she pouted at Gordon, but Gordon looked relieved and nodded gratefully at Anne.

"She's a tough old bird," Christopher said fondly as he eased himself down onto the seat beside Gemma, and Gemma had trouble reconciling this Christopher with the one who had so easily dismissed his son.

Christopher leaned over so that his back was curved with the weight of his worry, his elbows resting on his long legs just above the knees. For a long moment he stared at the floor between his feet, his head bowed.

Gemma brought her hands together on her lap, very much aware of his maleness as she clasped the photograph of CJ in her fingers.

"If the power doesn't come back on," Christopher said to the floor, then he stopped, as though not sure what came next; his face all hard lines and angles as he slowly turned towards her, looking lost. "If this is what you think it is, we need to get prepared. Leave early in the morning."

Gemma's mouth dropped open. "Leave? How?"

Christopher didn't get a chance to answer. Gordon had leapt to his feet, his tone almost panicked. "Wait – where are you going?"

"Home," Anne said. "Which is exactly what you should be doing."

"But – we have to stick together," Gordon said. "We're stronger that way. Sasha said we can all go back to her place."

"You have been reading too many books, young man. I have a lot more faith in society than you," Anne said primly as she knocked back a shot of amber liquid, put her glass down, and steeled her narrow shoulders for the journey ahead.