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breath. “I’m bit out of my depth here …”

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stare at her— she’s out of her depth?

“Give me movie director or big-shot producer and

I’m laughing.” She smiles. “I’ve been there, done that.

know how to paint on grin and turn on the charm. But

you

you’re my daughter.” She takes my hands shyly. “My

daughter,” she whispers. “You’re part of me—but more.

You’re your own person—your own beautiful person,

and”—her eyes swim with tears—“and don’t know you

at all.”

Her eyes search mine, sorrowful, anxious, and

something inside me flips over.

Kitty Clare, super-sophisticated movie star, is as

nervous as am.

“And I’m sorry,” she continues. “I’m so sorry for all

the years I’ve missed—for not knowing what to say or

how to act around you—for only having one day now and

making total mess of it …” She snatches ragged breath.

“And know it’s too late—too late for me to be mother to

you …” she trails off, her eyes shining. “But Rosie, I’d really like us to be friends.”

She clasps my hands tightly.

“Are you okay?” she asks gently, her eyes deep in

mine. “Has your life been okay?”

nod, my throat dry.

“And you and—and Jack,” she continues. “You get

on okay?”

“Yeah.” smile. “He’s great.”

“I’m so glad.” She beams. “I knew he’d be

good

father.”

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look at her then, realize.

“Kitty

Jack didn’t—he didn’t bring me up,” say.

“We only just met few days ago—I found him after met

you.”

“What?” She stares at me, stu

understand …”

“It’s—it’s what was trying to tell you in New York.

There was mix-up at the hospital …” look at her. “I was

swapped at birth.”

Kitty’s jaw drops.

“I only came to the States week ago to try to find

you—my real mother.”

She stares at me, white as

sheet, emotion

flickering over her features. “I can’t believe it

…” She

struggles for words. “That’s why your accent

your

hair

your name …” She looks at me, eyes wide. “I just

thought that Jack had changed your …” She shakes her

head incredulously. “Swapped?”

nod.

“So who

Jack has another daughter?” She frowns.

“I mean—”

“Yes, Holly. My mum’s— Trudie’s—real daughter. He

brought her up instead of me, while

grew up with

different family, in England.”

“Oh, Rosie—darling!” She holds me close, her heart

racing. “I

had no idea! And your

the people who

brought you up

they didn’t know?” She pulls back.

shake my head, look away.

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“I never knew my dad,”

say, my voice dry and

throaty. “He died just before was born.”

“Oh, Rosie!”

“But my mum—Trudie—” smile, warmth flooding

through me. “She was wonderful.”

Kitty smiles faintly. “Good,” she says softly. “I’m

really glad. She must be so proud.”

“I hope so.” smile tightly, swallowing hard. “She—

she died, just before Christmas.”

“Oh, God!” Kitty’s hand flies to her mouth. “What

happened, was she ill?”

“Yes.” nod. “She had Huntington’s disease.”

can see it doesn’t mean much to her, but now isn’t

the time to explain.

Kitty sighs, her eyes deep green pools. “What you

must have gone through

And all that time …” She shakes

her head. “You know, not day has gone by that haven’t

thought about you, wondered how you were, if you were

happy …”

pick at thread on the dress.

“You probably find that hard to believe.” She sighs.

“I wouldn’t blame you. God knows what people have told

you—what Jack’s told you—and

know it’s no





excuse

but was just

child myself when had you—

younger than you are now. And was so scared. hadn’t

the first idea what to do. tried to hide my pregnancy,

didn’t tell anyone, not even my mum—I was terrified.” She

bites her lip.

328

“She was already worried about my future, thought

was stuffing up my GCSEs—she’d been on me like ton

of bricks all year. She’d even sent me to Gra

whole of the Easter holidays, thought banishing me to

desolate seaside town would convince me to knuckle

down and revise. But instead met Jack.” look up as she

smiles.

“With him

wasn’t

screw-up,

let-down. With

him could forget all my problems, be anyone liked …”

Her eyes dance wistfully. “And he was so sweet. He made

me laugh, made me feel special.”

She sighs. “Then it was back home to reality. knew

I’d failed my GCSEs as soon as took them—and now with

baby on the way …” Her face crumples like child’s and

suddenly see the seventeen-year-old in her, the terror,

the fragility. “My life was over. My parents were going to

kill me—I’d made such

mess.

was so scared

couldn’t tell them …” She chews

manicured nail

anxiously.

“Then, like

miracle,

got accepted into the

National Youth Theatre—and my parents were suddenly

so proud!” She shakes her head incredulously. “You

should’ve seen Mum—it was all she could talk about.”

smile, remembering the way Pam had glowed as

she spoke about Kitty and her glamorous career.

“So then

really couldn’t tell her!” Kitty’s voice

cracks. “So moved to London, where it was easier to just

not think about the baby, to throw myself into rehearsals,

performances, the show—then

got an agent and had

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more auditions, rehearsals, filming, performing

until

finally, at twenty weeks, couldn’t hide it anymore …” She

closes her eyes, her lip trembling.

“My agent was furious, said she’d had

complaint

from

casting director, that I’d been utterly

unprofessional by not telling her, that she couldn’t

represent me anymore. Then was totally screwed!” Kitty

laughs bitterly, tears shimmering in her eyes. “I had no

agent, no job, no money coming in, too late for an

abortion—not that would have—I couldn’t

couldn’t

go home, couldn’t tell my parents

Luckily they were still

paying my rent, so made excuses not to see them, got

job in

call center, worked all hours trying to save up

money for the baby—for you.” Her watery gaze meets

mine and my throat swells.

“Then around Christmas, realized

just couldn’t

cope anymore. My flatmates had left for the holidays—one

had even landed

TV job in L.A. was all by myself for

Christmas and New Year and it was utterly horrible

And

knew it would be even harder once had baby to look

after. So made

decision—a New Year’s resolution. It

was time to go home, finally face the music, tell my

parents—whatever the consequences.

couldn’t do this

alone.”

She swallows hard, her eyes frightened.

“But then—I don’t know if it was the stress, or the

train journey, or what—but my waters broke on the way

home!” she cries. “I panicked—it was too soon, wasn’t

330

due yet! An ambulance took me to hospital, but

was

scared silly. didn’t know what to do, needed my Mum

“But then realized—if could just keep quiet for

few more hours

my parents needed never know

could put you up for adoption—that would be the best

thing all round. wasn’t fit to be mother, and you’d have

much better life, go to someone who really wanted