Читать книгу I Have No Secrets - Penny Joelson - Страница 8

3

Sarah’s in a great mood when she’s back on duty the next morning, though I can tell she’s got a hangover and is trying to hide it. She’s drinking loads of coffee. She clearly had a good night out with Dan and is singing a track by our favourite band, Glowlight.

She’s wheeling me from my bedroom to the kitchen when I hear the clunk of post landing on the mat. Sarah stops to pick it up and puts the small pile of letters on the kitchen table.

‘Oh look – one for you, Jemma,’ she comments. As she pushes me into my place, I see that the top letter, though addressed to Mum and Dad, has my name on it too – Parents/guardians of Jemma Shaw. I rarely get post. I wonder what it could be?

Mum picks up the pile and glances down. Then she quickly moves my letter to the bottom and puts them all on the kitchen counter. Sarah doesn’t seem to notice.

Now I am even more curious. Why doesn’t Mum want to open it?

After breakfast Sarah goes to get Olivia ready and Dad gets up to leave for work. Mum follows him out into the hallway to kiss him goodbye. Their voices are muffled, but I can pick out Mum’s words. She says, ‘There’s been another letter. I haven’t read it yet, but I think we’ll have to tell her.’

I strain to hear Dad’s reply. ‘Yes – she is family. Jemma has a right to know.’

Family? What are they talking about? If only I could ask. It sounds like they’re planning to tell me. I just have to hope that they do.

Dad’s gone and Sarah’s in the kitchen with me, easing my arms gently into my coat, ready for school. I’m conscious that my letter is still there, at the bottom of the pile on the counter.

Olivia’s moaning that she can’t find her reading book.

Mum sighs. ‘When did you last have it, Olivia?’

Olivia shrugs. ‘Dunno.’

‘Have a look in your bedroom, will you?’ Mum tells her.

Olivia slopes off slowly towards the stairs.

‘Sarah, can you go with her? I can’t see it down here.’

‘Sure,’ says Sarah. ‘You’re ready, Jemma. That’s one down at least!’ She hurries off after Olivia.

‘Where’s Finn’s water bottle?’ Mum mutters to herself. ‘I’m sure I washed it yesterday. I bet you know where I put it, Jemma.’

As it happens, I do know. I saw it fall off the draining board and down behind the bin.

The doorbell rings and Mum wheels me towards the door. We never know if it will be my minibus or Finn’s cab that comes first. Today it’s the cab that takes Finn to his special school.

Mum sighs and pushes a spare green water bottle into Finn’s bag, which is not going to please Finn as he always has the blue one. She helps him with his coat and gives his hair a quick comb. He wriggles away as fast as he can and out the front door with his taxi escort, Jo.

‘Reading book found,’ Sarah says, coming down the stairs.

‘I hope you said thank you, Olivia?’ says Mum, though she knows full well that Olivia hasn’t.

‘It wasn’t me who lost it, Lorraine!’ Olivia protests. ‘Why do you always have a go at me? It’s not my fault!’

She stamps her feet and I’m relieved when the doorbell rings again so I can leave before Olivia starts screaming.

But all I think about as the minibus jolts along the road is the letter. I try to work out what Mum and Dad were talking about. Family? Mum has an aunt and Dad has a brother, but we don’t see much of them as they live a long way from here. Were they talking about their family? Or . . . or could it be mine – like my natural mum, the one who gave birth to me and then dumped me? Could she have finally decided she wants to see me?

I hope it’s not her. I don’t want to see her – not ever! She probably only wants to get a look at me and gawp. I hope Mum and Dad tell her to get lost.

As soon as Dad is back in the evening I am waiting for them to talk to me – but they don’t say anything. I couldn’t even see my letter in the kitchen at dinner time. The whole pile had gone. Have they changed their minds or are they waiting for Finn and Olivia to be in bed, so they can talk about it? I’m not exactly looking forward to a conversation about my birth mum, but waiting for it and wondering about it is even worse.

Dad washes up while Mum and Sarah put Finn and Olivia to bed. It seems like it takes forever, even though I know it is probably just the normal amount of time. But then, finally, when it’s nearly my bedtime and I’m watching TV on my own, Mum and Dad both come in. Mum pauses the TV and Dad turns me round to face the sofa and sits down, looking serious.

He has the letter in his hand. I get a surge of relief mixed with panic.

‘We’ve got something to tell you, Jemma,’ he says gently. ‘Something important.’

My heart is beating so fast. Suddenly I don’t want to hear – I don’t want to know.

‘We’ve had a letter,’ Dad continues, ‘from social services.’ He pauses, as if unsure how to carry on.

Mum sits down beside him. ‘Jemma, I know this is going to be a bit of a shock and I will explain why we haven’t told you before . . .’

I wait.

Dad reaches out and touches my hand. ‘You’ve got a sister, Jemma.’

What?

A sister?

Mum sighs and smiles. ‘Her name’s Jodi.’

I try to take it in. The shock is making me breathless. A sister. I was so sure it was my birth mum wanting to see me. A sister – a sister is something completely different.

‘The thing is,’ Mum continues, ‘we knew she wasn’t told about you. So we thought it might be upsetting for you to know about her. But she found your name mentioned in some papers and . . . I’m sorry, Jemma. It’s been hard to know what to do.’

They knew! All this time Mum and Dad have known that I have a sister. So many feelings are swirling round inside me. The thought of them not telling me makes me angry – but Mum’s right. It would have been hard knowing about her if she was never going to know about me. I am still in shock, but I’m curious too.

A sister. My sister. I start to wonder what she’s like – how old she is . . .

‘The papers Jodi found, they were her adoption papers,’ Mum continues. ‘You and Jodi were split up when you were taken into care. Your natural mum couldn’t cope – she had a lot of problems. She was very young, and on her own.’

I’ve sometimes imagined it – my mum giving me up. I could even picture her face, horrified at her own baby, unable to cope with what I was. But there were two of us – two children. That idea never entered my head. And she couldn’t look after my sister either. Is my sister disabled too? I’m not sure what to make of this – but I know it changes things. It changes everything.

‘Jodi’s been asking if she can . . . contact you,’ says Dad, drawing me out of my thoughts.

I get a surge of excitement that quickly sinks when I think what they would have had to tell Jodi – that I can’t exactly contact her back.

‘She’s been persistent, but we weren’t sure if it was a good idea,’ says Mum. ‘It’s so hard when you can’t tell us how you feel about it. . . . But we’ve told her about you, and we’ve said she can write to you. I hope it’s what you want, Jemma. I really do.’

My sister! I’m still finding it hard to believe that I have one. I wonder how much she’s been told about me. Will she really want to know me once she finds out what I’m like? I am thrilled, though. I can’t wait to know more about her. She’s going to write to me! My sister is going to write to me!