‘What?’
‘I’m sorry, Kitty,’ Jack said. ‘It found its way into my Requires Response pile, somehow. I opened it without even looking at the envelope.’
I blinked. ‘Sorry, what? What did you open?’
‘This.’ He fished out a folded envelope from his pocket and handed it to me.
‘Jack, what is this?’
Mum seemed to recognise the postmark. Her eyes widened in fear.
‘Kitty, don’t open that. Please don’t open that.’
Ignoring her, I unsealed the envelope and drew out the contents.
‘I said don’t open that, Kitty Louise!’ Mum said in her most commanding tone. ‘Put it back and give it to me. Now.’
The power of that voice over me, the use of my full name, was so strong I almost instinctively obeyed. Then I felt the reassuring pressure of Jack’s hand on my shoulder, heard his whispered ‘go on’. Fighting back the instinct to be a good little girl, to do as I was told, I unfolded the letter and laid it out in front of me.
‘It’s the copy of your birth certificate we sent off for,’ Jack said. ‘For your building society application. Look at it, Kit.’
‘Kitty, just remember, whatever that says, I’m your mother.’ Mum’s voice was needy with panic now, even more than when she’d finally confessed to an affair with Ethan. ‘I’ve always been your mother. I always will be. And I love you very much, angel. Whatever’s there, you have to know that.’
‘What the hell is this?’ I whispered.
I’d never seen my original birth certificate. I knew Mum kept it safe somewhere in the house, and sent it off for me when I needed to prove who I was. That had never seemed particularly suspect, until today. She did lots of stuff for me, it was her thing.
But now I could see what it was she’d been so desperate to hide.
‘Jesus, I’m adopted?’
Mum didn’t seem to know what to say. She gaped at me for a second.
‘Technically,’ she finally managed to whisper. ‘Only technically. But I’m your mum, Kitty.’
I sagged back into the pillows, my head wheeling. Adopted! How could she not have told me that?
Even after I’d met Ethan, my mum had been the dominant force in my life. I’d never doubted she loved me, but it was a stifling love, the kind that hurt more than straight-out hatred. The way she conditioned me to obey her, the guilt I felt when I displeased her, the overwhelming happiness when a good school report or some other little achievement made her smile.
I’d never enjoyed her company. We’d never laughed together, never played games, had fun. Those things belonged to my dad and my Aunty Julia. But it was my mum’s approval I’d lived for.
And now, just like that, the hold she’d always had over me, the feeling that I belonged to her, was shattered.
‘You lied to me.’ I said it very calmly. I wasn’t going to cry. I wasn’t.
‘I didn’t lie to you,’ she protested feebly, her lip quivering. ‘I just didn’t tell you the whole truth. You… you didn’t need to know.’
‘You’re not my mother.’
‘I am. I am!’ She looked ready to burst into tears. ‘I’m the only mother you’ve ever had. I love you, Kitty.’
‘You slept with my husband. You controlled me for years. Whoever the hell you are, you’re not my mother.’
‘Angel, please—’
‘Mum, there’s a little speech I practised for you while I was away.’ I took a deep breath. ‘I’m a strong, independent adult, this is my life and you don’t get to control me. Now please take Ethan and… you know, fuck off.’
Jack gave me an approving nod.
Mum looked stunned. She opened her mouth a couple of times as if to speak, but the words wouldn’t seem to come.
‘I’ll be so lonely without you,’ she finally said in a small voice.
‘That’s not my problem.’
But I couldn’t help relenting ever so slightly when I saw the way her face crumpled through its mask of Botox, even though she didn’t deserve it.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ I asked, my voice just a very little softer.
She hesitated a moment. I’d never seen her look so childlike; so utterly broken.
‘I was afraid,’ she whispered at last. ‘I didn’t want to lose you, Kitty.’ She gave a bleak snort, which instantly disintegrated into sobs. ‘I never did anything good in my whole life except you. To imagine someone taking that away from me, taking my place…’
And suddenly, it all made sense. The years of manipulation; the fear on her face every time I’d gone for a visit to Aunty Julia with my dad; her hatred of Ethan and his place in my life. The almost frantic tears of anger and joy when she’d tracked me down to Laurel’s the first time I’d run away from home. It wasn’t about me, my wellbeing or my safety; it never had been. It was about her. That ever-present horror of losing me.
‘You need to go,’ I said quietly.
‘Will I ever see you again?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe not.’ I couldn’t quite bring myself to squeeze her hand, but I managed a brief nod. ‘Goodbye, Mum. And… look after yourself.’
After staring at me for a few seconds, her eyes brimming with hurt and loss, she finally turned to leave. A silent, broken Ethan trudged after her, refusing to meet my eye.
When they’d gone, Jack sat on the edge of the bed and hugged me until the tears I couldn’t hold back any more had subsided.
‘Well done, Kit,’ he said gently. ‘Proud of you.’
‘God, that was awful,’ I sobbed.
‘But it’s over now. That part of your life’s been exorcised. She’ll never hold that same power over you again.’
I glanced down at the birth certificate. ‘And now there’s this. It can’t be real, can it?’
‘It has to be. It’s right there in black and white.’
Because it was no random stranger’s name in the box reserved for the mother’s personal details. It was a name I knew well. Very well.
Julia Blake.
***
It was another four days before Sarah decided it was safe to discharge me. By then, the pain in my head had subsided to a dull throb.
Jack came every day at visiting time. Mum came once too, perhaps hoping to find me alone so she could try once more to talk me round, but I’d given strict instructions to the medical staff that I didn’t want to see her. Ethan, it seemed, had given up, realising that no amount of honeyed words were going to make up for the fact he’d slept with his wife’s mother. Laurel came to visit once with the boys, as soon as I was well enough to have those two bundles of energy bouncing around my cubicle. Aunty Julia was back in the Lakes but she sent some beautiful flowers and a get well card, asking me to call her as soon as I felt up to it. Perhaps if she knew what I knew, she wouldn’t be quite so keen to hurry that conversation along.
We talked a lot about the birth certificate, me and Jack. I’d wanted to call Aunty Julia right away to demand a few answers, but Jack convinced me to wait until I was all healed. Another big confrontation could set my recovery back weeks.
It was just so tough to get my head around. My parents weren’t my parents. My coddling, manipulative mum wasn’t my mum at all. My playful, loving dad wasn’t my dad. I mean he was, he always would be, but genetically speaking he was my uncle. That was a pretty big thing to deal with.
And my Aunty Julia, my favourite aunty, was my birth mum. So my biological dad – God, I didn’t even want to think about that. Ken Blake, sadistic, abusive Uncle Ken, who’d made Aunty Julia’s life miserable until the happy day he’d dropped down dead. That bastard was my dad. The thought of it made me queasy. Was he in me? Did I have any of that monster in my personality?
I had so many questions, but the biggest one was, why would they give me up? I’d never told Aunty J about my mum, quite how controlling she could be – I’d never told anyone, apologising for her and excusing her whenever I could just like I’d always done for Ethan – but I think my aunty suspected from our confidential girly chats that I was afraid of her. Aunty Julia had given me up to that. Why? Why hadn’t she wanted me?
Finally, the day came when I was well enough to go home. To the camper, I mean. That was my home now. Jack came to collect me from hospital in a taxi.
‘Here.’ He swaddled me in a big fleece he’d brought for me. ‘You need to keep warm.’
I smiled. ‘I’m not an invalid, you know.’
‘It’ll be a little while before you’re fully healed though. And I like looking after you.’ He opened the taxi door for me. ‘My lady.’
When I got back to the camper and unzipped the awning, I gasped.
There was a string of golden lights hanging all around the little tent, twined with single roses. It looked like an enchanted bower. Jack darted ahead of me and lit a couple of candles he’d placed on the table.
‘Jack, it’s beautiful,’ I breathed. ‘Why did you do all this?’
‘For you.’ He took me in his arms. ‘A welcome home present.’
‘So that’s why you didn’t want to pick me up in the van.’ I kissed the tip of his nose. ‘Thank you.’
‘Couple of friends who’ve been dying to see you too.’ He let me go and went to open the door of the camper. Our two dogs burst out, yipping excitedly as they threw themselves at me.
I laughed, crouching down to let them lick my face. ‘Aww. Missed you too, girls.’
Jack squatted by me and put his arms around my waist, kissing my cheek. ‘It’s good to have you home again, Kit.’
I looked around the awning, bathed in flickering candlelight and filled with the fresh, uncomplicated scent of roses. I looked at Jack, and the two happy dogs, their tails wagging vigorously. My little family. Despite all the soap-opera drama of the last few days, the heartache, the loss, the betrayals, a feeling of contented warmth filled me. For the first time in a long time, I felt genuine, unalloyed happiness. I felt safe.
‘It’s good to be home,’ I said.