The Half Sister(62)
She remembers the undercover sting she did on a group of far-right activists some years back, before she decided that showbusiness was a safer option. But aside from the initial death threat and a talking to by the police, she’d never heard anything more. She feels strangely comforted that the queue to witness her downfall is surprisingly short.
As she gets up from the bed, conspiracy theories abound, bogging Kate down with the what ifs, making her brain feel as if it’s banging against the inside of her skull in her efforts to work it all out. Hot tears of hurt and frustration run down her cheeks as she realizes how futile this all is.
She picks her handbag up from the hall floor, having resigned herself to at least telling Matt who his junior reporter really is. Once he knows that she’s lied about her past, he won’t hesitate to fire her, and that will leave Kate with one less problem to worry about.
As she walks down the hall, she absently turns the door handle to the only room she hasn’t yet been in. When she finds it locked tight, her interest is piqued. Adrenaline courses through her veins as she imagines what might lie beyond it. A grotesque image of her dad, gagged and bound to a chair, immediately flashes into her head – a recollection of another dream she’s recently had. Getting the wheel brace back out of her bag, she jimmies open the door with a renewed sense of purpose, desperate to see what Jess is so keen to keep hidden.
She feels for the light switch and peers around, through half-closed eyes, as if waiting for something to jump out at her. But instead of the dark dungeon-like room she’d expected, it’s oddly serene. A bed adorned with a pretty floral duvet cover and a scented candle stands unused on the bedside. It isn’t until Kate walks into the room that she sees a cot behind the door.
With her heart hammering through her chest, she reaches in to pick up a toy bunny rabbit that’s sat in the corner. Its floppy ears fall forwards and Kate absently runs its soft fur against the skin of her cheeks, her tears making its glass eyes glisten.
She still has the rabbit in her hand as she slowly opens the wardrobe doors, now more scared than ever of what she’s going to find. There, stacked in neat piles, are a dozen or so sleepsuits, perfectly folded muslin squares, an unopened pack of nappies, a breast pump – in fact, everything that a woman with a baby could possibly need. There’s just one problem; Jess isn’t a woman with a baby.
Kate tenderly runs a hand over her stomach, desperately trying to stay calm whilst she works out what all this means. Why would Jess have a locked bedroom, dedicated to a baby she doesn’t have?
She frantically pulls at the drawers at the bottom of the wardrobe, tipping the soft embroidered blankets out onto the floor. She yanks a bedside cabinet drawer from its runners, and a jewellery box falls to the floor, its contents upending onto the spotless carpet.
Tiny human teeth lose themselves between the weave of the wool, and Kate finds herself wondering whether there’s anything to gain from taking one with her to check its DNA. That’s the way her mind now thinks – that’s what Jess has done to her.
It’s then she notices the little hospital tag, lying face down amongst the spilled contents of the box. Her hands are trembling as she picks it up. Feeling as if she’s handling a new-born baby, she slowly turns it over and takes a deep breath. And there, written in faded blue ink, are the numbers that are already indelibly etched on her mind
15/09/96
The date goes around and around in Kate’s head. She can hear it so clearly, as if each number is blaring out in stereo, shutting out the sound of the passing traffic and the heavy footsteps from the flat above.
The sudden heat is oppressive, holding her down, making her feel as if she can’t breathe. I need to get out of here, she says to herself as she gets up and stumbles towards the front door. She’s sure that she can feel a pain shoot across her stomach and she cradles it as she makes her way down the stairs.
Disorientated, she steps out onto the pavement, unable to remember how she got here, let alone where she parked the car. The young men, with their hoods up, eye her up and down as she falters, unsure of which way to go. She feels faint and needs to stop and take a breath, but her surroundings are unforgiving and bear no resemblance to how they looked on her way in. She walks a few metres before diving into an alleyway, the coolness of the shadows wrapping themselves around her, making her shiver.
She crouches down on bent knees, getting down low in case she passes out. It feels like she may go any second and she lets her head fall back onto the bare brick wall.
Breathe, just breathe, she says to herself, inhaling and exhaling as deeply as she can.
‘Hey lady,’ asks a hooded figure standing over her.
Fear seeps into her veins as she looks up at the face, concealed by a bandana.
The figure bears down on her and she flinches, waiting for whatever’s going to happen. A strong hand reaches under her arm, lifting her up onto her feet.
‘Bro,’ calls out the young man.
‘Please,’ says Kate. ‘I just . . .’
‘Where you going, lady?’
‘I . . . I just need to get to my car.’
‘Bro, hurry up,’ he calls up the alley again. ‘This lady needs some water.’
The boy supports her as she gingerly puts one foot in front of the other, telling her to take her time. Just before she reaches her car, another similarly dressed boy appears with a small bottle of water.