Hannah had finished loading the dishwasher and wandered through to the sitting room where her daughter, Belle, was curled up on the settee staring at her mobile.
‘You fancy watching any telly?’
‘There’s nothing on worth watching. I looked. What time’s Dad back?’
‘Not until late.’
Hannah picked up the control and was about to turn the set on when Belle let out a squeal, ‘Aw, isn’t he the cutest?’
What’s that?’ she asked.
‘This dog.’ She lifted the phone to show her mother a picture of a pug dog dressed in a beret and striped T-Shirt with a comical expression on his face that made her laugh out loud. Encouraged by her reaction, Belle flicked through some more photos.
‘He’s really cute,’ said Hannah, smiling at the various outfits and poses.
‘He’s called Biggie Smalls after a rapper. His owner’s a ballet dancer. I’ve been following him on Instagram for ages. He’s here in France at the moment, near Nantes, filming a quiz show.
‘The dog’s on a quiz show?’
‘No,’ said Belle, pulling a face and swiping though some more pictures of the animal. ‘His owner is. It’s being shown in the UK but there are a few clips of it on YouTube. It’s really funny. Look this is one of the other contestants.’
She lifted the phone so her mother could see the photo of a striking woman with grey eyes, sitting on a sunbed. She had the saddest face Hannah had seen. Next to her was Biggie Smalls, licking her hand. Belle read out the caption. ‘“This is my new best friend, Bryony Masters, who’s on the show with my owner. She’s a lovely human who’s trying to find her long-lost sister Hannah. If you know Hannah, please tell her about this. Thanks. Biggie.” Isn’t that cool? Biggie’s helping her. Weird, isn’t it? Her sister has the same first name as you.’ The girl carried on happily swiping at the screen unaware of her mother’s reaction.
Hannah’s heart stopped.
Hannah watched her daughter, eyes fixed on her mobile and long fingers deftly typing out messages. She smiled to herself. The girl was very different to Hannah at that age.
It’d been thirty years since she’d left home – a third of a century they’d lived without her and still she thought about them. Had Bryony married and got children? Her daughter looked up from the screen.
‘You okay?’
‘Yes, just thinking.’
‘You had that weird expression you sometimes get.’
‘Lost in the past. It’s an age thing. It’ll happen to you when you are older.’
She moved away and stared out of the kitchen window onto the small front garden filled with rose bushes and watched as a blackbird chased after a blue-winged butterfly. It escaped and flew off into the brilliant blue sky. That was how she felt some days, like the butterfly who’d escaped and yet other times, she felt like one caught in a net. The past never left you no matter how hard you tried to forget it, she mused. It had a knack of sneaking back, catching you unawares and reminding you of your mistakes.
She took off to the main bedroom – a spacious, uncluttered room with large windows that overlooked the back garden and swimming pool outside – and raked through the bottom drawer of a modern unit. She found what she was searching for and removed the diary she’d written in her teens. She swept one finger over the lock that prevented anyone from opening it and stroked the maroon leather cover, seemingly innocuous but Hannah knew what horrors the diary kept hidden within its pages. She extracted a pillbox with a mosaic lid from her bedside drawer and felt for the tiny key that would unlock the diary – a veritable Pandora’s box of shocks.
She sat on the edge of her king-sized bed and for the first time in many years read the first entry, once more remembering the sixteen-year-old Hannah who’d written it…
Hannah put the diary aside. Her eyes were sore with reading and her heart heavy for the girl who was too selfish to see what was in front of her eyes and who’d made such a monumental mistake.
She clicked onto the video clip she’d watched several dozen times already and wiped away the tears that fell yet again. Was it too late? She now knew Bryony wanted her back but could her parents forgive her? Hannah clicked onto the information she’d found, carefully copied the name and address onto a large envelope and slipped the diary inside.