The Half Sister(27)



‘Thank you,’ says Lauren, taking them from her. ‘Come in, come in.’

They talk their way through their first glass of wine, chatting about anything and everything that has nothing to do with why Jess is here.

‘So, I guess your mother hasn’t taken it too well either,’ Jess eventually says.

Lauren shakes her head. ‘No, I’m afraid not.’

‘I’m not surprised,’ says Jess. ‘It must be very hard.’ She looks at Lauren, as if gauging whether she should say what she’s about to. ‘Especially now that your dad has passed.’

Lauren nods. ‘It’s a shock for everyone.’

‘But not so much for you, it seems.’

Lauren looks at her, meeting her gaze. ‘As I said, I’ve had time to get used to the idea.’

‘Am I who you came looking for?’ asks Jess.

Lauren swallows, taking time to formulate her answer. ‘I don’t know who I was looking for. I just wanted to find a way to bring my family together and I thought that widening our circle, finding other family members, might be a way to do it.’

‘Yet it’s had the opposite effect,’ says Jess.

Lauren clears her throat and tears immediately spring to her eyes. ‘I . . . erm . . .’

Jess gets up from the armchair she’s sitting in and goes to Lauren on the sofa, putting an arm around her shoulders.

‘This is silly,’ Lauren chokes. ‘I should be the one comforting you.’

‘What’s upsetting you?’ asks Jess.

‘It was just a horrible time,’ says Lauren.

‘What was?’

‘When . . . when you were born . . .’ Lauren clamps a hand to her mouth, knowing she’s already said too much.

‘What do you mean, how do you . . .?’ falters Jess. ‘Do you know when I was born?’

Lauren’s head scrambles to backtrack, trying to get herself out of the precarious position she finds herself in.

‘I was young, and it was . . . it was . . .’

‘What do you know?’ pushes Jess.

Lauren rubs at her head, frustrated with herself. This wasn’t the plan. ‘As I say, I was young and . . .’ She feels Jess’s arm fall away from her back. ‘It was a really difficult time and . . .’

‘And?’ urges Jess.

‘I was seventeen and on my way home from school when I saw Dad.’ She dares to look at Jess. ‘It was nothing. I shouldn’t have . . .’

‘Please,’ begs Jess. ‘I need to know.’

Lauren clears her throat. ‘He was with another woman, a beautiful woman, and he was pushing a pram.’

Jess’s mouth falls open. ‘You saw him?’ she croaks. ‘With me?’

Lauren nods and a tear falls onto her cheek. ‘I think so.’

‘You saw my mother?’ Jess cries in a high-pitched voice. ‘Who was she? What did she look like?’

‘She was beautiful,’ says Lauren.

Jess lets out a sob. ‘Where were they? Do you remember where you saw them?’

‘It wasn’t far from where we lived in Harrogate,’ says Lauren. ‘Just on the other side of town.’

‘I was born in Harrogate?’ says Jess, almost to herself, as if in a trance. ‘I’m from Yorkshire?’

Lauren can’t begin to comprehend the enormity of how it must feel to know where you were born, after a lifetime of wondering.

‘Would you know the road?’ asks Jess, suddenly more animated. ‘Might you recognize it? I could go there and ask around. Someone might remember her. Oh my God, she might even still be there.’

Lauren feels under siege as Jess’s questioning gathers pace. ‘I couldn’t tell you exactly where it was,’ she says. ‘I just know the area of town. Where did you think you were from? What did your adoptive parents tell you?’

Jess’s palpable excitement immediately dissipates. ‘Just that I’m from the north of England and was put into foster care as a baby. They didn’t know anything about my birth parents, or at least claimed not to.’

‘But they’ve cared for you and loved you.’

‘As if I were their own,’ says Jess, smiling. ‘I’ve had the best education, went to a really good university . . . I couldn’t have asked for more.’

‘And do you have any brothers or sisters?’

‘No, I’m a spoilt only child.’

‘And where did you grow up?’ asks Lauren, eager for as much information as she can garner.

‘On the south coast,’ says Jess dreamily, her eyes glazing over as if caught up in a fond memory. ‘Near Bournemouth. We had a beautiful house overlooking the sea and every day after school, I’d take the dog down onto the beach and walk for miles.’

Lauren smiles. ‘It sounds idyllic. Are your parents still down there?’

Jess’s jaw tightens and her brow furrows. ‘No, not anymore. They’ve both passed away, sadly.’

‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ says Lauren.

‘That’s why I decided to upload my DNA,’ says Jess. ‘After they’d gone, I realized I didn’t have anyone who I could call family. Sure, I had a couple of aunts and a few cousins, but I felt detached, as if I didn’t really fit in anywhere. I couldn’t have done it when they were here. I didn’t want to hurt them and make them think that everything they’d done for me had been a waste of their time. They were so proud of everything I’ve achieved.’

Sandie Jones's Books