The Half Sister(30)
‘Congratulations!’ the woman says warmly, and Kate wishes she could leap down the telephone to give her a kiss.
‘Oh my God, I’m pregnant!’ she says under her breath as she paces up and down the same five-metre stretch of pavement. Back and forth she goes, wiping her tears, only stopping when she momentarily forgets how to put one foot in front of another. Her chest feels as if it’s about to burst open as she thinks of Matt and how she’s going to tell him, but then she immediately pictures her dad, who she’d always imagined giving a ‘Congratulations Grandad’ card with an ultrasound scan of his new grandchild inside. He would have cried, she knows he would, and he’d have hugged her tight, not wanting to ever let her go. I knew you’d do it, kid, he’d say to her, letting on that he’d instinctively known what her and Matt had been going through all this time. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he had; he was so intuitive of her feelings that he often knew she was unhappy even before she did. And he was always there when she was. An invisible support system that held her up, whenever she needed him.
‘I need you now, Dad,’ she cries, floored by the unexpected grief that washes over her. She’d always known how proud of her he was; he’d shout it from the rooftops whenever he was given half a chance. But this . . . this would have made him so happy. His little girl finally getting the one thing that will make her feel complete. Her heart breaks that he’s not here to see it. ‘He’ll never be here to see it,’ she whispers, wiping a tear away.
‘Excuse me,’ says a voice, interrupting her thoughts. She instinctively moves aside, imagining that she’s holding someone up from where they want to go. What other reason would there be for unsolicited interaction between strangers in London?
‘Er, hi, excuse me,’ says the voice again.
Kate sniffs and drags a tissue under her eyes.
‘I’m really sorry to intrude, but you look upset and I just wanted to make sure you were all right.’
Kate looks from the girl to the empty place in the coffee shop window and back again.
‘Are you okay?’ asks the girl, with a sympathetic smile.
‘I’m pregnant!’ says Kate, feeling a warmth wrap itself around her, though she’s not sure if it’s the knowledge that she has a baby inside her or that her faith in human nature has been restored.
‘Congratulations?’ says the girl hesitantly, as if waiting for confirmation that it is, indeed, good news.
Kate instinctively pulls the girl into her, hugging her tight. ‘Thank you,’ she says.
‘For what?’
‘For not being afraid to show you care.’
15
Lauren
Lauren had cited an unnecessary food shop to her mother to get a child-free half an hour to make the call. Now, she sits in the car outside her own house, staring blankly at her phone, as if willing it to ring. But she doesn’t suppose Justin’s telepathic, and anyway, that wasn’t the agreement. She’s supposed to call him. If she’s brave enough.
Her hands are shaking as she looks at ‘Sheila’, unable to believe that just eleven digits separate her from a past she never imagined she’d have to face again. When Justin dumped her, it was the start of a downward spiral that she feels she never truly escaped from. She’d got in with the wrong crowd when they moved to London and started experimenting with drugs. She lost all sense of self-respect, sleeping with anyone who showed an interest, in the misguided belief that sex was love. And when she’d run out of ways to punish herself, she decided to get control back over her life, in the only way she knew how; by limiting the food she allowed herself. She thought she was being clever, that nobody would notice, so when her dad put her into hospital for two weeks, it only made her hate him even more.
But he’s gone now, she says to herself, with her thumb hovering shakily over ‘Sheila’. And I’m an adult. But even as she’s saying it, she knows that no matter how old you are, you’re still your parents’ child.
She’s almost surprised when she presses the number, as if somebody else has done it on her behalf.
‘I didn’t think you’d call,’ says Justin, before Lauren even hears it ring.
‘Hi,’ she says, not knowing what else to say, before adding unnecessarily, ‘it’s me.’
‘How are you?’
‘I’m good,’ she says. ‘You?’
‘Better now,’ he says. ‘I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the other day.’
I haven’t stopped thinking about you for the last twenty years, thinks Lauren.
‘I want to see you again,’ he says.
Lauren feels like she can’t breathe. How can this be happening? After all this time. And why now? It’s as if it’s a sign.
‘I’d like that,’ she says, hesitantly.
‘When?’ he asks. ‘What about tonight?’
‘No, I can’t, not tonight.’
‘Tomorrow?’
She suddenly feels claustrophobic, as if he’s crowding her, demanding something she can’t give. But then she reminds herself that he doesn’t know any different. Why wouldn’t he think she might be available tonight or tomorrow? That’s the short notice that single, unencumbered people can work to.