“It was awful,” Karen said softly. “One minute I was in my private room, sipping wine and gazing in awe at my baby, and the next the police were standing in the doorway. I thought they’d come to ask me if I knew where Lisa might have gone. One look at their faces told me it wasn’t that.” Her fingers thrashed the lace. “They were very sorry, but they’d found Lisa dead in a squat with a needle in her arm. I couldn’t take it in. My beautiful baby sister was dead from a heroin overdose and her baby was fighting the same addiction.”
“Oh, God, Mom. How awful!” Libby hugged Karen.
Heroin? Suddenly, Karen’s long teaching moments about the evils of drugs by using horrifying pictures that had given Alice nightmares made some sense. It had left her with a strong aversion to taking Tylenol, let alone anything stronger, A bubble of anger permeated her shock. Her birth mother had used drugs when she’d been pregnant with her! That drug habit was the reason Alice was born so underweight. It was the reason for the years of catch-up therapies and tutoring. Why she’d spent her childhood feeling like she’d never be good at anything.
Alice’s fingers released the photo of Lisa and it fluttered to the floor. “How could she do that to me?”
“She was obviously sick,” Libby said kindly. “Drug addiction’s pretty complicated.”
“She loved you, Alice,” Karen said.
Alice didn’t want to know. “How can you say that? She took drugs and abandoned me!”
“She didn’t!” Two red spots burned Karen’s pale cheeks. “She made sure you were safe.”
The words poured over Alice like molten metal, encasing her in unwanted information. “Maybe I can understand why you didn’t tell me I was the child of a drug addict, but why didn’t you tell me from the start that your sister died and I’m your niece? Why lie and tell us you’re an orphan? Why fabricate the story about Libs and me being twins? For years, I’ve whipped myself that Libby turned to Jess because I wasn’t a good enough twin. Thanks a lot!”
Karen visibly sagged. “Alice, everything we’ve done comes from love.”
“We moved down here to keep you safe,” Peter said quietly. “We had two little babies born on the same day and everyone assumed you were twins. We went along with it, because we thought it gave you added protection.”
“But Nanna and Grandad?” Libby asked. “How did you get them to agree?”
“Wait!” Alice was shaking her head. “This sounds like something out of a TV show. Who were you protecting me from?”
Karen looked to Peter and then back to Alice. “From my father.”
“He was a very damaged man,” Peter added.
“He hated to lose,” Karen said. “When he expelled me from the family he still had Lisa. When she ran from his abuse, he lost her too. He’d have been ashamed of her drug addiction so he wouldn’t have tried to find her, but if he’d learned she’d had a baby and that I was the guardian, he’d have moved heaven and earth to get you. He’d tried to control my life and he ruined Lisa’s. I wasn’t going to let him anywhere near you.”
Alice shuddered. “Is he still alive?”
“Thankfully, no.”
“Then you should have told me the truth when he died!” Alice’s mind whirled. “Hang on, what about my father? Why did you deny me the right to know him? Maybe he wanted to be involved in my life? Maybe he was the artistic one?”
“You got your artistic talent from Lisa,” Karen said with some of her old briskness. “She drew beautifully just like you do.”
“But what about my father?”
Karen’s gaze, which had been fixed on Alice for the entire conversation, suddenly dropped to the tessellated tiling. Alice’s stomach dropped with it.
“Peter’s your father.”
“Who is my birth father?’ Alice asked doggedly, avoiding looking at Peter’s sad eyes.
“Oh, Alice. Does it matter? Let it go. You’ve got a loving father right here in front of you, who’d do anything for you.”
Hot irritation prickled and stung. “That’s got nothing to do with it. You don’t have the right to ask me to let it go and I’m not going to do that. You’ve lied to me all my life about who I am and it stops now. I deserve to know who my father is. If you won’t tell me, I’ll get a DNA test and search for him myself!”
Karen’s hand rose to her mouth.
“Mom, Alice deserves to know,” Libby said.
Peter wrung his hands. “It’s not easy for your mother.”
“Then you tell me,” Alice demanded, fast running out of patience. “I might have half brothers and sisters out there.”
Peter looked to Karen for guidance.
“Oh, Alice, I never wanted you to know.”
“Just. Tell. Me!”
Karen made a sound not dissimilar to an animal in distress.
Peter sighed. “We’re sorry, Ally. Lisa was a very troubled young woman. From what we’ve managed to piece together, she’d been living rough for months. Doing whatever was necessary to … survive. She left a note.”
Alice leaned forward, eager to hear. “And?”
Peter nervously licked his lips. “Lisa—” He cleared his throat. “She didn’t know who your father was.”
Doing whatever was necessary to survive. Alice gagged and spots swirled in front of her eyes. Her mother was a heroin addict. Her father was a man who’d paid her mother for sex so she could buy her next hit. Or worse still, her dealer, using her. Either way, he was scum.
Libby’s arms wrapped around her, but Alice could barely feel them. Her mind was consumed with the horror of her conception and the revulsion for the DNA she’d inherited.
“No!” she spluttered. “No, no.”
“Alice, hold on. This doesn’t change who you are. Libby’s rapid words bounced around her. “You’re still funny, quirky, loving, caring, amazing Alice.”
But Alice had an overwhelming urge to take a loofah to her skin and scrub hard.
Chapter Twenty-One
October
Jess sat on a park bench waiting for the usual
