Colleen moved into my embrace, as though obeying some deep instinct, and my arms closed around her. She was thin, her bones close to the surface, and I could feel her ribs through her flimsy T-shirt, and the rapid flutter of her heartbeat.
Breathing in her musky scent I was overwhelmed with emotion. My sister. If I’d had any doubts we were related, they dissolved the second I held her. There was no denying she looked like Mum, and like Maisie too. And her freckles – they were mine. Ours.
‘Colleen,’ I murmured into her feather-soft hair, trying to convey how I felt, without understanding it myself. How could I have missed someone I’d never known? But I had.
Seeing her, holding her, was like a piece of me slotting into place. ‘I’m so happy to meet you. I can’t believe you’re here, that you actually exist.’
She was still for a second then wrenched away, putting some distance between us. She wrapped her narrow arms around herself, eyes darting around the hotel lounge as if seeing it for the first time, and sounds rushed back, reminding me we were in a public place.
I pulled a tissue out of my purse and dabbed my eyes, laughing a little, embarrassed. ‘Sorry about that,’ I said. ‘I don’t normally cry.’
I wanted her to say something, to tell me it was understandable under the circumstances, that she was emotional too, but she remained silent. She turned her astonishing eyes on me, and as she raised a hand to rub the back of her neck, a shiver of unease passed through me. She looked pale and tired, as though she hadn’t slept. Her full lips were pressed together, and a deep groove cut between her eyebrows, making her seem stern. She looked like someone who’d suffered, rather than the happy adventurer I’d been expecting. Maybe it’s the shock of finding out about me and Mum. ‘Shall we sit down?’ I said when the silence grew awkward. ‘You must have so many questions.’
She lifted a shoulder. ‘Sure,’ she said, as if she wasn’t bothered. ‘Whatever you like.’
Her words were like a slap. Wrong-footed, I turned, stumbling a little, and led the way to a table with a view of the terrace, where I pulled out a chair. ‘It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?’ I sounded too chirpy, as if I was dealing with a client at work.
‘It’s certainly that.’ She dropped on the chair opposite and propped an elbow on the table, looking almost sleepy as she rested her chin in her hand.
I picked up the menu and put it down again. ‘Shall we have coffee?’ My voice was too prissy. ‘Or tea, if you prefer.’
Colleen raised her eyebrows. ‘Sure.’
Is that the only word she knows? It felt like an effort to drag a smile across my face. ‘Can you believe I’ve never been to Ireland before?’
‘Lots of people haven’t.’ Her tone was sardonic and I instantly felt stupid. This wasn’t how I’d imagined things going at all.
‘You’ve travelled a lot, by the sound of it,’ I persisted, lifting a hand to attract the waiter’s attention. I saw her track the movement and wondered if she was judging me. I was probably coming across as an air-headed, middle-class housewife. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but I was certain my emotions were written all over my face.
‘I’ve been around,’ she said shortly. She fiddled with a thin gold chain, linked to a letter ‘B’, that hung around her neck, her gaze drifting past me to the view outside. She opened her mouth as if to say more then closed it again.
I released a shaky breath and ordered a pot of tea, accepting the waiter’s suggestion that we try the hotel’s homemade lemon cake. I looked at Colleen for approval, but she was absently tracing circles on the table with her finger and didn’t notice. ‘So, how was America?’
For a moment, she seemed startled, as though it wasn’t the question she’d expected me to ask.
‘Big. And hot,’ she said after a pause.
‘Were you working on a film?’
‘Holiday,’ she said shortly.
I could have kicked myself. I was making small talk instead of getting to the point. And she was probably jet-lagged, if she hadn’t been back in the country long.
‘I’m surprised you’re not more tanned,’ I blurted.
She looked blankly at her arms, then rubbed them with a self-conscious grimace. ‘I burn easily,’ she said, as though she’d never given it much thought. ‘I tend to cover up, or wear suntan lotion. Factor 50.’
‘Oh, me too.’ I clutched at this common thread, extending my own lightly tanned arm. ‘I have to build up gradually. And my hair gets lighter in the summer.’ What the hell is wrong with me?
Colleen didn’t respond to that little gem. ‘So, you had no idea I existed until last week?’ she said. At last her eyes met mine, and I could see that her beauty was unusual; not obvious. It came and went, depending on her posture and the tilt of her chin. She definitely had the sort of looks that turned heads. In fact, at that moment, in the doorway, the man I’d bumped into earlier on the stairs paused to give her a second look.
‘No idea at all.’ I returned my gaze to Colleen and haltingly told her about clearing Mum’s room and finding the box in her wardrobe, containing the photo and the letter. ‘It was a total shock, but a good one,’ I said, on firmer ground as I opened my purse and retrieved the picture. ‘I think I was ready for something good to happen after Mum … after she passed away.’
I paused as the waiter approached with the tea and cake, and waited until he’d set them down before handing the photo to Colleen.
She leaned over it, narrow shoulders hunched, her eyes flicking back and forth. She turned it over and read her name on the back. ‘It’s so weird,’ she said, and it was the first time I’d heard real feeling in her voice.
‘It must have come as a shock.’ I laid my hand over hers and felt her stiffen.
She pulled away, leaving the picture lying between us on the table. ‘I saw her once.’
My stomach leapt into my throat. ‘What do you mean?’
‘She came to the house in Cork when I was a child, where I lived with Celia, my mother. The woman who brought me up. I think she was looking for me.’
I felt as if the blood had drained from my body. ‘My God,’ I said, pressing a hand to my mouth. ‘Are you sure it was her?’
Colleen nodded. ‘Positive.’ She poured herself some tea without milk, and picked up the cup in both hands, blowing away steam. ‘I didn’t know who she was,’ she went on. ‘Celia wouldn’t let her in.’
I sagged in my chair, feeling winded. I thought of all the trips to York that Mum had taken, to visit Aunt Tess. Had she really been there, or was she in Ireland, trying to reclaim her daughter? I suddenly recalled the receipt I’d found in her coat pocket, from Annie’s Tea Room. ‘Did you ever see her again?’
Colleen shook her head. ‘We moved to Waterford not long after that.’
‘Did you ask Celia about her?’
Her shoulders bounced. ‘Why would I?’ she said. ‘I was only five.’
‘But you remembered her.’
Her eyebrows lifted as she swallowed a mouthful of tea. ‘I suppose. But only because Celia was upset.’
She seemed calm – uncaring, almost – whereas I felt as if someone had let off a box of fireworks in my stomach. ‘So, you knew that you were adopted?’
‘Not back then I didn’t, no. Celia only told me recently.’ This seemed vague, but I sensed I mustn’t press her. ‘She also told me my father cleared off after I was born.’ She lifted her chin, and once again I was struck by her likeness to Mum. What would Mum say if she could see us now? Is this what she would have wanted? ‘Celia’s his sister.’
‘What?’ I sat forward, trying to absorb what she’d said. ‘So … Celia, your adopted mother … she’s really your aunt?’
Her eyebrows shot up again. ‘I suppose so,’ she said, as routinely as if we were discussing the weather. ‘I thought of her as my mum back then, though. She was good to me for a while.’
For a while? Questions flooded in, falling over each other. ‘And you weren’t curious about your real mother, when you found out?’ I managed. ‘Didn’t you want to know her?’
Colleen’s cup clattered back onto its saucer. ‘She didn’t want me.’ Her voice was hard. ‘Why on earth would I want to know her?’
Oh, God. This wasn’t going well. By now, we were supposed to be exchanging life stories, discovering we had tons in common, before moving on to making arrangements to visit each other’s homes to get to know one another better. Instead she was studying me, like a wild animal scared to get close, and I was confused and jittery. Moisture had gathered in my armpits, between my breasts and dampened my hairline.
I felt tricked somehow. From the tone of her emails, I’d expected someone nicer. A sporty daredevil, like she’d described; someone fun and lively, curious and interesting.
She’d sounded so excited to meet me. But then again, why shouldn’t she be furious, now she’d had time to dwell on things? In her eyes, I was the chosen one – the child Mum kept. If the boot was on the other foot, wouldn’t I feel bitter? But it wasn’t even that. She just didn’t seem that bothered about me, or Mum. I was struggling to make sense of it all – of her.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said suddenly, fluttering a hand between us, as though sensing my confusion. ‘It’s been a very strange few weeks. You’ve no idea. Finding out about you and us sharing a mother.’ She released a heavy sigh. ‘Let’s just say, it wasn’t as much of a shock as you might think.’
I tried to imagine her circumstances and what she meant, but it was beyond me, and something warned me not to pry. At least she was here. That was what mattered.
‘Ask me anything you like,’ I said, striving to stay on track as I took back the photo and returned it to my purse. ‘I’ll do my best to answer.’
I was expecting questions about Mum, or my upbringing, or whether Mum had ever hinted at having another child. Maybe she’d want to know about my father, my schooling, my marriage and career. My mind raced ahead, trying to decide how to frame my replies. I wouldn’t play up that I’d been a happy and much-loved child – by Mum at least – and that I’d gone to good schools and been financially supported through university, because that might make her feel worse and I wanted more than anything for us to get on.
It was becoming clearer by the minute that it wasn’t going to be easy. ‘Colleen?’ I nodded for her to speak.
‘You said there was a letter,’ she said, crumbling her portion of cake with her fingers and scattering them across her plate.
‘Yes.’ I felt a blush creeping up my neck. ‘There is one, but I’m afraid I’ve lost it,’ I said, picking up my napkin and dabbing my face. Where was Greg? It was so hot. I wished I’d suggesting sitting outside now. The room was stifling and the tinkling piano music was getting on my nerves.
‘You lost it?’ Colleen’s eyes widened and she let out a bark of laughter. ‘Feck’s sake, Ella.’
The familiar way she said my name softened the shock of her swearing. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I’m sure it’ll turn up. There wasn’t much in it,’ I added. ‘Someone called Reagan was letting Mum know Celia’s address, in case she wanted to stay in touch. He said they’d done the right thing, so I assumed he must be your father.’
‘My father.’ A light came into her eyes and when her whole face softened, disappointment sliced through me. Clearly her father, despite abandoning her, was a more powerful force than a sister she’d never met.
‘Do you have a relationship with him?’ Was I jealous? How ridiculous. I didn’t even know Colleen and had no claim on her.
‘Not yet,’ she said, her lips curving into a secret smile, and I wondered whether he was the ‘personal reason’ she’d given for being in Sligo.
Before I could ask what she meant, there was a commotion at the door, and I looked over to see Greg and Maisie entering the lounge. Relief washed through me. I hadn’t realised just how tense I was.
‘What is it?’ Colleen said, turning in her chair.
‘My husband and daughter.’ I couldn’t help the note of pride in my voice, watching them approach. Heads turned at the sight of Maisie in her pink-and-white gingham dress, and the matching hairband that tamed her wayward curls, spontaneous smile unfurling, and Greg looked attractive too, his hair still damp from the shower.
I rose as they reached our table and picked up Maisie, who was peeping shyly at Colleen through her eyelashes. ‘I’ve missed you, darling,’ I said, kissing her neck.
‘Missed you too, Mummy.’
I smiled at Greg, trying to somehow communicate my tangled feelings, but his eyes were on Colleen, and for the first time I noticed her breasts were naked beneath her T-shirt, and the way her tight, black jeans outlined her slender thighs.
‘This is Greg,’ I said to her, resting a hand on his forearm.
‘My daddy,’ Maisie said, formally.
‘Good to meet you.’ Colleen stood to shake Greg’s hand. She looked tiny next to him, her small hand disappearing inside his. There was an awkward moment as he leaned down to kiss her cheek, and she turned her head so that his lips grazed the corner of her mouth.
‘Sorry,’ he said, unruffled, releasing her hand and turning to smile at me. ‘You don’t look that alike,’ he observed carefully, pulling a chair from an empty table and sitting down. ‘Any tea left?’
Colleen’s face turned pink. She seemed flustered and switched her attention to Maisie. ‘Look at you,’ she said, her face folding into the first genuine smile I’d seen. A smile I’d failed to inspire. She held out her arms, and to my surprise, Maisie wiggled away from me, into Colleen’s embrace.
‘Like your hair,’ she announced, pushing her pudgy hand through Colleen’s short layers with an enviable lack of self-consciousness. ‘I’ve got curlies.’
‘They’re beautiful,’ Colleen admired, jigging her up and down, and I saw a softer person – someone who’d be a good auntie to my daughter.
‘You talk funny,’ said Maisie.
‘That’s because I’m Oirish,’ Colleen countered, exaggerating the word so that Maisie giggled and tried to copy her.
‘She’s adorable.’ Colleen gave me a look I couldn’t decipher, still smiling broadly. ‘I once knew a little girl who looked a lot like you,’ she said to Maisie.
‘Who was that?’ I rested a hand on Greg’s shoulder, needing to feel its warmth. He was eating the slice of cake I’d ignored, but I knew he was watching every word and gesture, taking it all in.
For a moment, I thought Colleen wasn’t going to answer. She was singing something to Maisie and didn’t take her eyes off her when she finally spoke. ‘It was a girl I knew a long time ago,’ she said softly. ‘She died.’
Shock rippled through me. Was she referring to her own child?
‘It sounds like you two still have a lot of catching up to do,’ Greg said, into the sudden lull. He was studying Colleen and I wondered what he was thinking. ‘Would you like me to go away again?’
‘No.’ Colleen, Maisie and I all spoke at once.
Greg gave a controlled laugh. ‘Well, it’s nice to be in demand,’ he said. ‘How about we go for a walk and then on somewhere for dinner?’
‘Good idea,’ Colleen said, not looking at me as she tucked a maverick curl beneath Maisie’s hairband. ‘Let’s get this party started.’