Chapter 22

“Stephanie? What … what are you doing here?” I repeated, stunned. The brick fell from my hand. It had been five years. She looked so different, her wavy hair cut shoulder length and highlighted blonde. A small diamante stud sparkled from her pierced nose. She’d aged a bit, and a weariness appeared in her eyes.

“I saw the news,” she said, extending her arms to embrace me in an awkward hug. “I had to come. I still have my old key, and since you weren’t home, I let myself in.”

Even her accent had changed, a mixture of Norfolk with an Australian twang. “I came as soon as I saw it. I know we’ve not exactly been close, but she is my niece, after all. I’m so sorry, sis.” I pulled away from her.

It had been over a year since I’d even heard from her. I had emailed her in Australia when I’d won the premium bond money, offering a big chunk of it and explaining that I was setting up the charity with the rest. I knew our dad had never gotten around to setting up anything for Steph. She’d refused the bond money. In fact, the whole thing had angered her more than I’d expected. We hadn’t spoken since.

“I’m sorry, I just … I wasn’t expecting this,” I paused. “Why are you really here?”

She sighed. “Look, I know it’s weird. But don’t you think it’s time to put all that behind us? If this can’t bring us together, then nothing will.”

I gazed at the unfamiliar face of my little sister. I couldn’t blame her for hating me. After Dad died, she’d been sent to a foster home, whereas I’d gotten the freedom of my own place and the greatest gift of all — my daughter. I’d offered to take Steph in, but it wasn’t as straightforward as I’d thought.

“You’re nineteen and pregnant, Suzanne,” the social worker had said. “I’m afraid you’re in no position to raise a newborn baby and look after a twelve-year-old, too.”

“But what will happen to her?” I had asked.

“Well, as your only living grandparent is suffering with dementia, I’m afraid she will have to go to a foster placement.”

Even then, I’d heard all sorts about foster homes. Kids were forced to live with other kids who had gone off the rails, with some strangers being paid to look after them. I’d shook my head. “No, she can’t go to foster care.”

The social worker had made it very clear to me then, for which, in hindsight, I was very grateful. “If you take on the care of your sister, then I will be forced to look at whether you are going to be able to meet the needs of both her and your baby. It may be that your baby ends up being put up for adoption in a more stable home. You need to understand that.”

I could still remember the ice that had pierced my heart as she said it. My baby adopted by someone else? Over my dead body. I had to choose my priority, and, of course, I chose Teigan.

I focussed back on Steph’s hopeful face and found my voice. “Um, perhaps I should put the kettle on.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Steph said, as we sat down on the sofa in the lounge with two cups of tea and honey, her new favourite remedy for all things bad, apparently. I wasn’t sure the healing power of tea and honey extended to this sort of situation, but I didn’t want to start arguing with her already.

“I just … I don’t know. We’re not exactly best friends.”

“But this is your daughter, Suze. This is a big deal, and you need family around you.” Steph placed a reassuring hand on my arm, her fingers covered in loads of different rings, all gems and stones in varying colours.

I inched my arm away. “I know it’s a big bloody deal. I don’t need you to tell me that.”

She shook her head, her nose stud catching the light. “You know what I mean. You need support at a time like this. We need to put the past behind us.” I studied her face. It was hard to believe she was twenty-six. She was a grown-up in her own right, out in the world. And I knew nothing about her.

It felt strange having her in the house. As I watched her, sipping away, the memory of the last time I’d seen her flooded my mind. It had been nearly five years ago, on Teigan’s tenth birthday, and she’d wanted Auntie Steph to come. She had only met her a handful of times in her life, but was adamant that her auntie should be at her birthday. I’d had my reservations, but had invited her along, anyway, thinking maybe it would be the start of a closer relationship for them. To my disgust, she’d shown up wasted.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I’d hissed. “You’re at a child’s birthday party.” She’d been wearing an inappropriately short black dress and had stumbled around in high heels.

“I’m just still a bit pissed from last night, all right? ‘S not a big deal.” She’d picked up the bottle of wine on the side and had started fumbling with the twist-off cap.

I snatched it off her. “You need water.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, and you always knew just what I needed, didn’t you? ‘You need to go into foster care, Steph, they’ll look after you properly. You need to go live with a load of nutjobs while I go have a jolly.’” She tried to take the bottle back, then gave up and opened the fridge. “Ooh, Little Mix birthday cake — lucky Teigan.”

“My life has hardly been a jolly,” I snapped back. “You have no fucking idea what I’ve done for you. To keep you safe.”

“What you’ve done for me? Are you joking? You ditched me the second you got the chance.”

“I didn’t have a–”

“You didn’t have a choice, yeah, yeah. Just admit it, you were happy for Dad to be gone.” She leered in towards me, the smell of alcohol strong on her breath. She’d clearly been on G&T’s. “You always hated him because I was his favourite. I was Daddy’s little girl, and you couldn’t wait to be rid of both of us, once Mum was gone.”

I’d placed the wine carefully down at that point and had clenched my fists, stopping myself from blurting out what I really wanted to say. What I’d kept from her, all those years. “I think you better leave now,” I’d said.

Steph finally broke the silence, dragging me from my memories. “She’ll be okay, you know. Teigan. I’m sure of it.”

Part of me wanted to scream at her. How could she possibly know that? She didn’t know anything about it. She didn’t even know Teigan. But part of me was grateful for the effort she was making.

“Thanks. I hope so.” My eyes started to well with tears. I took another sip of my tea and forced them away. I wasn’t ready to let her see me cry. I changed the subject, knowing I wasn’t strong enough to talk about Teigan with her.

“So, how’s Australia? You’ve been out there ages now. Must feel weird coming back here.”

It felt bizarre that my little sister had lived on the other side of the world for years, and I knew nothing about it at all.

“Oh, it’s wonderful. I feel like it’s made me a whole new person,” she said, her voice bright. “I can show you some pics if you like? I’ve got my iPad in my bags upstairs.” She hurried upstairs before I had the chance to answer. Her bags. Australia. It dawned on me then that Steph was planning on staying here. She had nowhere else to go, after all.

There were various thuds and the whizzes of zips upstairs before she eventually returned. When she arrived, she had a look of real pity on her face.

“Your clothes are a size six now, I see.”

I rolled my eyes like an exasperated teenager again. “Why are you going through my stuff? Don’t do that.”

“You’re wasting away, sis. You need to eat more and stress less.”

“Right, yes. Of course, my daughter is missing, and I need to tuck into a good meal and chill out. Piece of cake.”

“Don’t be so sarcastic and bitter. That isn’t going to wash with me, not any more.” She paused and cast her eyes downward. “If there’s one thing I learned to appreciate in Australia, it’s family. I met some great people there. Made a true friend, really. She taught me how important relationships are.” She looked up with a sympathetic smile. “You’re going to get through this, and I’m going to help you. For once, we’re going to work together as a family.”

I stared at her, speechless. I didn’t know whether I was proud of her or wanted to slap her for being so patronising and naïve.

“Come on.” She gestured towards the kitchen. “Let’s go make some food, and figure out what we’re going to do.”