The Half Sister(78)

‘Hello?’ comes her mother’s voice from somewhere beyond the hatch.

Kate’s head bangs on a beam in panic.

‘Hello, who’s there?’

Kate considers not answering, but contemplating her position, she doubts a stand-off would work in her favour.

‘Mum, it’s me,’ she calls out.

‘Kate? What on earth are you doing up there?’

She needs to think quickly. She looks at the box under her arm and a carrier bag of tinsel on the floor, wondering whether emptying the letters into a bag would be less conspicuous.

‘I’m . . . erm, I’m just looking for the baby clothes you kept of ours,’ she says. ‘I won’t be long, go back downstairs and put the kettle on.’

‘I’ll do no such thing,’ says Rose. ‘What are you thinking, going up there in your condition?’

Damn. ‘I’m pregnant, not disabled,’ says Kate.

‘Well you shouldn’t be doing it, especially if you’re alone in the house. Anything could happen. Come on down now. I’ll hold the ladder for you.’

Kate wonders what would be worse. Taking the letters and incurring the wrath of her mother if she discovers what she’s up to, or not taking them and never really knowing the truths they may hold. She feels she’s in too far not to at least take the chance.

‘I’ve got you,’ says Rose, as Kate backs herself down the ladder. ‘Pass me the bag.’

Kate holds on to it unwaveringly.

‘Give me the bag,’ repeats Rose. ‘You’ll be able to hold on better.’

There’s a tussle as they fight for the innocuous-looking carrier, and it knocks Kate off balance. There’re only a few more steps until ground level, but it could still cause some serious damage if she falls. She resignedly gives the bag up, but as Rose pulls it towards her, the letters spill out and fall onto the carpet. The two women look at each other, both seemingly too shocked to speak.

‘Wh-what’s going on?’ says Rose, bending down to pick them up. ‘What are you doing with these?’

Kate looks at the floor, her cheeks red with shame. ‘I just . . . I just . . .’

‘You just what?’ says Rose acerbically.

‘I just wanted to . . .’

Rose puts a hand to her head. ‘What are you looking for, Kate? What are you hoping to find?’

‘I just want to know the truth.’

‘And what are you going to do with it once you have it? When it’s not what you want to hear?’

‘Why did Dad need to forgive you?’ asks Kate, taking the carefully folded letter out of her pocket.

‘You had no right,’ says Rose, reaching out to grab it.

Kate holds it out of her reach.

‘Give it to me,’ says Rose. ‘It’s private.’

‘What did Dad need to forgive you for?’ Kate asks again.

‘You need to stop this now, for all our sakes,’ says Rose.

‘Jess is your child, Mum. I know that much. But what I don’t know is why you gave her up.’

Rose takes a sharp breath and holds a hand to her chest. ‘You need to leave this alone now, Kate.’

‘I won’t stop until I know the truth,’ says Kate.

‘Not even if it destroys this family?’ says Rose, staring intently at her daughter. ‘Not even if it destroys Lauren’s family?’

Kate looks at her, taken aback. Of all the people in this sorry state of affairs, her sister is the one least affected.

‘Lauren?’ asks Kate wearily. ‘What’s she got to do with any of this?’

Rose looks away, as if doing so will make it easier not to say anything.

‘What has Lauren got to do with it?’ Kate asks again, her voice rising.

Rose fixes her with a stare. ‘I wasn’t the one who was pregnant. She was.’





36


Lauren


‘Do you feel guilty?’ Justin asks, caressing Lauren’s hair as she lies on his chest.

It had felt as if the twenty-two years that stood between them last being together and now had evaporated into thin air. It was as if she was sixteen again, with the same hopes and aspirations of an unknown life before her. She’d lost herself in the idea that they could run away together, live somewhere on a remote island, where no one could find them. His question brings her back to earth with a bump.

‘Guilty? No. Scared? Yes,’ she says truthfully.

‘Scared?’ asks Justin, tipping her chin up to face him. ‘Of what?’

‘Of what I’ve done and what it means.’

‘What does it mean?’ he asks.

She props herself up on her elbow, exposing her breast, and hurriedly pulls at the sheet to cover herself up. Justin gently takes it away again.

‘It means that I’m an unfaithful wife and a selfish mother. It means that I’m no better than the husband I’ve grown to hate.’

She bats away the threat of tears. She will not play the victim. This was her decision, and she needs to take ownership of it.

‘Has he cheated on you?’ asks Justin, tracing his finger down the side of her face.

‘I don’t know,’ she says honestly. ‘But if he has, that’s not why I hate him.’