‘It’ll be a couple of days at least,’ says Nancy.
‘If you can do it any quicker than that, I’d really appreciate it. I’ll make sure to put a good word in with the editor.’
‘No worries, I’ll see what I can do.’
Getting the DNA results back won’t explain what the hell Jess is playing at, but it will provide unequivocal proof that Harry isn’t her dad.
31
Lauren
A text lights up the bedroom.
Bleary-eyed, Lauren instinctively turns to see if Simon is asleep, before unplugging her phone and taking it into the bathroom.
It’s just gone midnight, but she’s not yet been able to sleep – her mind too busy working over the events of the day; her body too alert to what tomorrow may bring.
Are you still up? reads the text. She doesn’t know whether to respond or how – not yet having processed what’s happened and whether or not it changes anything between them. She doesn’t suppose it should, but still there’s a sense of uneasiness.
Yes, she eventually types, as she closes the lid of the toilet and sits down.
I desperately need to talk to you.
Lauren rubs at her temple. Where are you?
In a bar and far drunker than I should be. Can you talk?
Lauren gets up and peers around the door to where Simon is snoring. Yes – what’s going on?
Well, I’ve finished work and am now doing tequila shots!
Alone?
Lauren knows there are more pertinent questions she should be asking, but now doesn’t seem the right time, and there’s not much point, seeing as Jess is probably three sheets to the wind.
No – with him! And he’s even more gorgeous than when he’s sober!
Lauren can’t help but smile. That’s because you’re not looking at him through sober eyes! she types.
We’re going back to the hotel now, texts Jess.
Lauren imagines herself in Jess’s position; the excitement of a burgeoning relationship – the anticipation of what’s to come. Simon had taken her to a romantic hotel for the night when they’d wordlessly decided to consummate their relationship. Unlike the numerous casual liaisons she’d had after Justin, when she would unhappily admit that she’d mistaken sex for love in her quest to replace him, she’d gone on four dates with Simon before they spent the night together. She wonders what had made him stand out from the rest. Was it the fact that when he looked at her, he had made her feel like she was the only woman in the world? Was it that she had felt safe, knowing he would protect her? It had been good once, so how come he can now barely bring himself to look at her at all, and he’s the only person she’s scared of?
Are you sure you want to do this? asks Lauren, her innate mothering instinct kicking in. Or maybe it’s just her attempt at making sure Jess doesn’t get sucked in the same way she had – knowing that that would be the first mistake if she did.
Do *you* think I should do this? asks Jess.
What an impossible question to answer.
You have to be sure it’s what you want.
More than anything I’ve wanted for a long time, says Jess.
Well, then do it, but please be careful.
You won’t think any less of me?
Lauren can’t believe she’d even ask. Of course not!
OK, types Jess with a sideways laughing emoji.
Night, types Lauren, before adding Have fun! But something doesn’t sit quite right. It feels as if she’s encouraging her own daughter to go and get laid. She deletes the last two words and says Speak to you tomorrow instead. Because they do need to speak, one way or another, about what Kate had told her.
It doesn’t surprise her that Jess might have changed her name – she could have done so for myriad reasons, but she has never lied about it because it had never occurred to Lauren to ask. Why would she? Jess was well within her rights to do whatever she wanted. Lauren can’t pretend to understand how it must feel to live eighteen years as one person, only to find out you’re someone completely different. The ancestry, history and bloodline that Jess thought had bound her to those around her had been severed in the most brutal fashion.
Lauren wonders, not for the first time, why Jess’s adoptive parents chose to tell her when they did. Perhaps one of them knew they were ill and thought it best, and fairer, to tell Jess the truth whilst they were both still able – together. Or maybe they felt they had to tell her, before somebody else did. Either way, it must have been the most impossible decision to make; knowing that such a secret hung over your family’s head, waiting for it to be exposed, either accidentally or on purpose. Or as Kate’s cynical mind would probably deduce, accidentally-on-purpose.
She wishes Kate could just be her sister for once, instead of forever being in reporter mode – constantly chasing the story that she thinks everyone is hiding. Maybe she should have put her investigative skills to the test when their father was alive, because quite clearly there’s a truth there that she missed.
But no matter what Kate thinks she’s found out, Lauren is sure of one thing; Jess did go to university. That’s what she’d told her and she had no reason to lie.
‘What are you doing?’ asks Simon, walking into the bathroom. The illuminated screen on Lauren’s phone casts a white light that is impossible to disguise.
‘I was just . . . just . . .’ she stutters, hunched over on the lid of the toilet seat in darkness.
‘Are you texting?’ he asks.
Even in Lauren’s head, everything about the scene makes it look clandestine; as if she’s doing something she shouldn’t be.
‘It’s nothing,’ she says, in a clumsy attempt to over-emphasize her innocence. She immediately chastises herself – it’s the worst thing she could say. Nothing about what she’s doing makes it look like she’s doing nothing.
‘Who are
