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baby, couldn’t have one of their own.”
look away, thinking of Trudie, of Sarah.
“I was terrified. was having baby and was alone.
couldn’t call Mum, not now I’d made my decision,
couldn’t call my friends—anyone who knew my
family
So finally called Jack. Fu
whose number I’d kept, who lived miles away, who I’d
only known for two weeks and who totally expected to
tell me to get stuffed. Who told me he was on his way
before I’d even put the phone down …” She smiles weakly.
“But for hours he didn’t come. gave birth, had to
give my baby
name for her bracelet, then she was
rushed away to special unit while the nurses cleaned me
up. Then started to panic all over again. thought Jack
had changed his mind, gotten cold feet and left me all on
my own after all. couldn’t cope—couldn’t be mother—
couldn’t deal with it all, so I—I ran away …” She looks
away, shame painting her cheeks scarlet.
“And then, suddenly, there he was, driving up the
road. Jack, my knight in shining armor. couldn’t believe
it. He promised he’d look after us both, that we’d be
family. But
just couldn’t.
tried,
really did—we
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registered the birth together, visited you in hospital—but
was so scared of ruining your life the way I’d wrecked
my own. You were already ill—premature—and felt it
was my fault, my punishment. didn’t deserve you …” She
swallows. “So when Jack went to bring you home, left.
told my parents I’d got
job in L.A., got on
plane and
arranged to sleep on my friend’s floor.”
She shakes her head wretchedly. “I had to go—had
to get away. You have to believe me, Rosie, was no good
for you—I was
mess—I’m still
mess …” She sighs
miserably. “But don’t ever think that didn’t love you, that
don’t think about you—feel horrible for what did. I’ve
had to live with it every day of my life, eating me up
inside, never able to tell anyone.”
“What about Luke?” whisper. “You’re engaged.”
“Oh, we’re not engaged, Rosie, not really—Luke’s
gay! It’s all
sham,
career move—my whole life’s one
big charade! It may look glamorous—the bright lights, the
makeup, but it’s all an act, Rosie. Nothing’s real. You’re the only thing that’s ever been real. You and
and Jack …”
She trails off. “I couldn’t believe it when got his letter all
those years later. That he’d followed me to the States …”
She gazes wistfully out the window.
“But it was too late,” she continues, her eyes
clouding over. “It was too late. He was married, and
couldn’t risk wrecking that for him by crashing back into
your lives—however much wanted to. Too many years
had passed and was still so ashamed of leaving you, so
frightened you’d reject me
couldn’t even open the
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letters that followed—it was too painful, seeing the
photos, hearing about all the things I’d missed. You guys
were obviously doing so well without me—you looked so
healthy, so happy …” She squeezes her eyes shut.
“I had no idea …” Kitty groans. “No idea—that that
wasn’t you at all—that you were on the other side of the
world!” She looks at me, pain-stricken. “You’re my
daughter and
had no idea that they’d given me
completely different baby!” Black tears trickle down her
cheeks. “What kind of person does that make me? What
kind of mother?” She shakes her head miserably as she
crumples on her stool. “Oh, Rosie, can you ever forgive
me?”
look at her, dressed to the nines, her lips painted
an u
and tears flood my eyes as think about what it must’ve
been like to be so alone, so scared, so young.
take deep breath, then nod.
Immediately, she engulfs me in tight hug, her ribs
shaking with sobs.
Over her shoulder,
see Janine smiling at our
reflections through gap in the curtains.
“Reunited at last!” she sighs, dabbing at her eyes.
“Mother and daughter.”
smile through my tears,
warm feeling growing
inside me.
Mother and daughter At last.
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Holly
“I still don’t see any whales,” Andy says doubtfully,
leaning over the rail of the boat and studying the murky
depths.
“Patience,” chide, hiding smile. “We’re barely out
of the harbor yet.”
The salty air billows through my hair and shivers
on my skin as the dark waves surge beneath us.
“Choppy today.” frown.
“Not seasick, hope?” Andy grins.
“Don’t you worry about me.” smile. “I’ve been out
here
thousand times—it’s your own breakfast you
wa
“Whatever.” Andy laughs. “That’s what Rosie said
before we went on Nemesis at Alton Towers. Wasn’t too
cocky afterwards when her ice cream sundae made
sudden reappearance! Though neither was I—she puked
all over me!”
“Eww, gross!” grimace.
“Must be love,” Andy sighs, staring out to sea.
look at him for long moment, his eyes pained, his
cheeks blasted pink by the wind, and
bite my lip.
shouldn’t have brought him out here like this, under false
pretenses. He’s got nothing to do with this mess—I just
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wanted to hurt Rosie like she’s hurt me. Make her suffer
like I’m suffering.
“Like you and—Josh, is it?” He turns suddenly,
catching me off guard.
My heart plummets and stare at my feet. Josh
“You’re serious, right? You’re engaged?”
“Yup,” say, my throat swelling. “Though how long
that’ll last …”
He frowns. “Why?”
“Oh.” shrug, embarrassed I’ve spoken the thought
out loud. “No reason.”
stare determinedly at the sea, scouring the
horizon for imaginary whales, ignoring the sick feeling in
my stomach, the thumping of my heart.
“Only …,” Andy begins, then breaks off. “Nothing.
Sorry. It’s none of my business.”
“What?” ask, turning to him.
“Well …” He takes breath. “It’s just hope it’s not
because of the Huntington’s that you’re unsure.” His eyes
search mine and look away, my cheeks burning.
“Have you told him yet?” he asks gently.
“You’re right,” say briskly, warm despite the biting
wind. “It’s none of your business.”
He nods, turns back to sea. “Just like Rosie,” he
mutters.
“What?”
turn on him furiously. “What do you
mean? I’m nothing like her!”
He smiles. “You’re more alike than you think.”
stare at him.
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“She never told me about the disease, Holly. She
kept it all secret. We even broke up because she was too
afraid to tell me.” He looks at me. “You’re telling me you’re
not feeling the same? You’re not scared to tell Josh?”
bite my lip.
“You know,” he says gently, “if she had told me—
even if she knew she’d got it—it wouldn’t have mattered.
It wouldn’t have scared me away.”
stare at him, incredulous. “It wouldn’t have
mattered?”
He shakes his head. “Of course not.”
“That she was going to die?”
“Everybody dies.”
stare at him. “It wouldn’t have mattered that in
ten, maybe twenty years’ time you’d be feeding her from
spoon That you’d have to be her caregiver It wouldn’t have mattered that you could never have children without worrying that they’d have it too?”