Page 92 of Merrily Ever After
‘Do you mind me asking what happened to her?’ Emily asked softly. ‘It’s OK if you’d rather not.’
I drank the last of my latte and pushed the cup away. ‘I don’t know anything about her early life, but I do know that she was living rough when she got pregnant with me at seventeen.’
Emily’s face crumpled. ‘That must have been awful, poor girl.’
I nodded. ‘My earliest memories are of the two of us in our little flat, never any other family. She and I were very close. She was a fun mum, but she had regular bouts of illness. I was too little to understand at the time, but now I realise she must have been suffering from depression. I’d be sent to live with foster parents while she got well again. I had a long spell of being fostered when I was eleven and I remember being excited to go home for Christmas. But one day my social worker came to school to tell me that she’d died. She’d killed herself. I never went home again, and I spent the rest of my childhood in care.’
‘Oh Merry, I’m so sorry.’ Emily had tears in her eyes. She reached across the table and took my hands and I tried to smile. ‘Dad was often away,’ said Emily. ‘He got restless staying in the same place and would disappear offsomewhere for weeks and sometimes months on end. Mum used to despair. That was what broke them in the end – the not knowing when he’d be back. I hated him being away, but at least I always had Mum. I didn’t realise how lucky I was.’
‘I never knew who my dad was,’ I told her. ‘There’s no one listed on my birth certificate. Until I started school, I didn’t know that that was unusual. But then I noticed most of the other kids had two parents and I began asking questions. Mum used to tell me stories of a lovely man who’d been her best friend and had given her money so she could pay for a night in a shelter. She never used his name, she just called him Daddy. I asked her why he didn’t live with us, and she said …’ I paused, reaching back through time to remember how she’d worded it. ‘She said he couldn’t stay with us because he needed to keep moving.’
‘That sounds like him.’ Emily swallowed and her eyes shone with tears.
We sat in silence for a while, lost in thought, until she spoke again.
‘I have always wanted a sister.’
‘Same here,’ I said with a grin. ‘I mean, I’d have settled for a brother, but having a sister has always seemed like a double bonus: a best friend and a sibling all rolled into one.’
‘I’ve always envied people with big families,’ she said.
I laughed softly. ‘I envy people withanysize family.’
‘Maybe our family has just got bigger.’ She fiddled with a napkin and then raised her eyes to mine.
I wanted that, so much. It would be the icing on the most amazing Christmas cake. But equally I didn’t want to set myself up for a fall either.
‘Do you think your dad is really telling the truth. About me, I mean?’ I asked, holding my breath.
‘Honestly? I don’t know. Sometimes he thinks I’m Tina, my mum, sometimes he’s convinced he’s just met random people from the nineteenth century. But he does seem very sure that you’re his daughter and he was worried about my mum finding out. She knows now, because I couldn’t keep this from her, it’s too important.’
‘You believe that we’re related, don’t you?’ I said, meeting her gaze.
‘I do,’ she replied, her green eyes wide. ‘I think we’re half-sisters.’
‘In which case, we’ve got some catching up to do,’ I replied, dotting the last few flakes of pastry with my fingertip and putting them in my mouth. ‘Tell me a bit about yourself.’
‘OK.’ She sat up taller in her chair. ‘I’m thirty-five, my favourite drink is Guinness, but when on a first date, I drink wine so men don’t think I’m too laddish.’
‘To hell with what they think,’ I declared. ‘Drink the dark stuff if it makes you happy. I would.’
‘Maybe I will.’ She grinned. ‘What do you drink?’
‘Er, rosé,’ I said sheepishly. ‘Moving swiftly on.’
We both laughed.
I sat and listened, and I learned all the things I would already have known about my sister if things had been different. That she lived in a rented cottage by herself, and she’d painted the walls shades of pink and there was a roll-top bath of dreams in the bathroom. How she took the job at the school just so she could look out for her dad, how her first love is fashion and she can’t resist a thrift-shop bargain (her velvet coat was only fifteen pounds and still had the tag in) and how her ex-boyfriend dumped her last month, but now she was glad because she’d met Will, although it was early days, and she didn’t want to get too excited.
‘OK. So, I’m Merry Shaw,’ I began when it was my turn. ‘Thirty-six. Likes a snap decision. Loves the scent of citrus fruit, especially bergamot – yes, it’s a thing – creative, romantic. I like dresses, but rarely have the right shoes, or tights for that matter. My best friends are Nell, who I met at college when I was about sixteen, and Astrid, who used to be my art teacher but is now my friend and mentor and is also the love interest of Fred, my soon-to-be father-in-law. Totally in love with my fiancé and can’t wait to marry him on Christmas Eve.’
Emily sighed wistfully. ‘That is very romantic. How did you meet?’
And I was off again; telling her far more than I would normally to someone I’d only just met. But it felt right. There was a trust there which I’d never experienced with anyone else before. I even ended up telling her all about Harley and Freya and the drama we’d had wedding-outfit shopping. I told her how Freya had made me want to postpone the wedding and that Harley had told me stuff he didn’t want his father to know.
‘So not the bond-building experience I’d imagined,’ I concluded wryly.
‘Sorry, ladies.’ Delilah’s voice startled us both. I looked up to see her hovering by the counter. ‘I need to lock up soon, five-minute warning?’
