She thinks back to what Finn told her. ‘Her adopted name is Harriet Oakley, but she’s been living as Jessica Linley more recently. I’m not sure if she’s changed it by deed poll or not.’
‘Sounds interesting.’
You have no idea.
‘Do you have a date of birth?’
‘Yes, fifteenth of September, 1996.’
‘Okay, but no birth name?’
Kate sighs. ‘I can have a guess, but it would be a real stab in the dark.’
‘Anything might help,’ says Jared.
‘Okay, can you try Harriet Alexander?’ asks Kate, though even as she says it, she knows it’s highly unlikely. Firstly, she’s not her father’s child and why would her mother give Harry’s name to a child she was giving up for adoption? Even if her husband did know about it?
‘Anything else you can tell me?’ asks Jared.
‘Actually, can you also look at Harriet Grainger?’ adds Kate, wondering if her mother would have given the child her maiden name rather than that of her lover. It occurs to her for the first time, whether Rose even told Jess’s father that she was pregnant with his child.
How is she going to deal with that when the time comes?
‘Okay,’ says Jared. ‘Let me talk to my contact at the adoption bureau and if she needs any further information, can I give her your number to call?’
‘Of course,’ says Kate.
‘Great, leave it with me for a day or two.’
‘Thanks Jared, I owe you one.’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ he says, as if she already has an outstanding debt.
She’d hate for him to think she won’t pay it – that’s the way it works in journalism. You scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours. ‘We should get a date in the diary,’ she says before he hangs up. ‘Maybe grab a meal.’
‘That would be great,’ says Jared warmly. ‘If I trace your girl, it’ll be on you.’
‘Deal!’ says Kate laughing, momentarily forgetting that this isn’t someone else’s story she’s chasing. This is her life. It’s funny how different it feels when it’s happening to you.
She gets in the shower and imagines the water, hotter than feels comfortable, washing away her troubles. She groans as it stings her eyes, reminding her how much she’d cried last night.
There’s a tap on the glass screen and she jumps, her heart skipping a beat.
‘Jesus!’ she says, as Matt’s smiling face peers through the condensation.
She wipes a circle with her hand, but even through the fogginess, he still looks like he’s been up all night. His eyes are heavy-lidded and his hair unkempt, making her suspect him of things she doesn’t want to suspect him of.
‘Surprise!’ he says, handing her a towel as she steps out of the shower. He tries to kiss her, but she turns her head.
‘You made good time,’ she says, coldly.
‘Good to see you too,’ he says, sarcastically. ‘I cadged a lift with Oddie – thought it might get me home quicker than waiting for the trains to start up this morning.’
Oddie? The Political Editor on the Gazette? The thought of Matt being with a colleague from her own newspaper makes her feel better, though she doesn’t know why. She tries to convince herself that it means he’d never be foolish enough to do anything untoward in front of someone who knows his wife so well. But the very next minute, she’s consumed with shame; knowing that if he has, everyone in the office will know about it except for her.
‘Just the two of you?’ she asks.
‘And a couple of the others.’
There’s her nemesis – clumsily thrown in as a casual aside.
‘That must have been a fun ride,’ she says, reaching for her hairbrush and dragging it forcefully through her hair.
Matt laughs as he takes off his shirt, rolling it up and throwing it into the laundry basket. ‘It was a quiet ride,’ he says. ‘It was a long night and some of the newbies aren’t quite as robust as us.’
‘Why, what happened?’ she asks.
‘It was just the normal government press office debacle,’ he says.
Kate stares into the mirror as she vigorously rubs cream into her face. She can’t look at him, because if he’s lying, she’s going to know by the look in his eyes.
‘Did Jess go?’ she asks, as he puts his head under the shower and groans in pleasure.
‘What’s that?’ he says.
‘I said, did Jess go?’ Her tone is acerbic. ‘Was she one of the newbies?’
‘Er, yeah . . . yeah, she was there.’
‘How did she get on?’
‘Yeah, all right,’ says Matt, shampooing his hair.
Kate can’t help but notice how short and clipped his answers are.
‘So, was she a help?’ she pushes on. ‘Was she able to take up some of the slack? Take the pressure off you.’
Kate tries not to picture the ways she might achieve that.
‘She was okay,’ he says. ‘Though I’m not sure politics is going to be her forte.’
‘Oh really?’ says Kate. ‘What do you suppose is her forte?’
‘Pass me that towel,’ he says, a classic diversion tactic if ever Kate heard one.
She stands there with crossed arms, knowing he’s on the ropes. ‘What is her forte?’ she repeats.
Matt looks at her with a vexed brow. ‘Since when have you been so interested?’
‘Since you decided to hire the girl who’s claiming to be my half sister.’ She’d not meant to say it like that. In fact, she’s not sure she’d meant to say it at all. If she’d had her way, she would have carefully revealed who Jess really was and what she wanted in her own time, but she’d felt suddenly compelled.
‘Wait!’ he says, laughing nervously. ‘What did you just say?’
Kate looks away, chewing on the inside of her cheek. ‘You heard.’
‘Jess?!’ he exclaims. ‘She’s the girl who turned up at your mum’s? She’s the one who’s claiming to be your father’s daughter?’
‘She is not my father’s daughter,’ snaps Kate, seeing red. ‘Why is everyone so happy to assume that?’
‘Hold on,’ says Matt, shaking his head and putting his hand in the air. ‘You’re saying that Jess is that woman?’
‘There is another option you know,’ barks Kate, ignoring the question. ‘You of
