My Sister's Child

by Caroline Finnerty

“I just wanted the best for you, Réiltín – that’s all I’ve ever wanted. I wanted you to have what every other child has – complete security about who your parents are – and I was worried that telling you something like that could sow seeds of doubt in a child’s head.”

  “And what you’ve done now hasn’t done that to me? You think you know your parents, you think your life is a certain way – and then you realise that it’s all imagined!”

  “I never meant for you to find out –”

  “And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

  “What I mean is that you are my child. You are the same whether or not it was my egg that you were conceived with. What you’ve found out today doesn’t change anything.”

  “It changes everything!”

  “If you went to a court tomorrow, they’d tell you the same thing –”

  “There you go again! You’re not in work now – for once can’t you just switch off your lawyer head, Mum?”

  “Sorry, I’m just trying to show you what it all means.”

  “No wonder I always felt closer to Isla. I always wondered why you were so weird about things whenever I was hanging out with her.”

  “That’s not true. I’ve always encouraged your relationship with her – she’s been a big part of our lives.”

  “Yeah, but you hate it when me and her do stuff together. I can see it in your eyes. You’re jealous whenever we hang out or have a laugh together. I always knew it!”

  That stung. It seared deep down inside but Jo knew that Réiltín was hurting. She wanted her to feel her pain too. Réiltín was like a dying wasp, determined to sting before finally giving up the fight. This was all Isla’s fault, thought Jo. She cursed her for bringing the whole thing up again. They had been fine until she had started asking for that embryo. They’d had a perfectly normal life until Isla began uprooting things.

  Jo could see Réiltín’s mind working, trying to take it all in and process all this new information.

  “Well, I’m going to live with Isla since she is my mother!”

  “She is not your mother,” Jo said, trying her best to stay calm but she could hear the edge of panic in her voice.

  “I’m going upstairs to pack. Excuse me.” Réiltín left the room and started climbing up the stairs.

  Ryan and Jo went after her.

  “You can’t go, Réiltín, this is your home,” Ryan was pleading. “I know you’ve had a horrible shock but if you could just stay calm we could sit down and talk about this together –”

  “I’m going to live with my real mother.”

  “Please, Réiltín, don’t do this,” Jo said desperately. “You’re angry, I know that, but we’re still your parents and you’re only fourteen so you cannot leave this house without our permission!”

  Réiltín reached her bedroom door and went inside. Jo and Ryan watched from the doorway as she walked over to her wardrobe and pulled her holdall down from the top shelf.

  “Oh yeah?” She picked up a pair of boots from the floor and threw them into the bag. “Watch me.”

  “Réiltín, no – Isla won’t take you in if I tell her not to.” Jo’s voice was a shaky whisper.

  “Well, if she won’t let me stay with her then I’m on the streets and I don’t think my own mother would do that to me, do you?”

  Ryan ran his hands back through his hair and started pacing around the room before stopping and turning to Réiltín. “Réiltín, this doesn’t change anything – you need to know that. You are still our child and we love you very much.”

  His voice was desperate and Jo hated herself yet again for putting them in that position. All the anger and despair and feelings of failure and insecurity that she’d had years ago about having to use an egg-donor came rushing back up to smother her. She hated herself for not knowing what to say to her teenage daughter to calm her down and tell her how much she loved her. She was paying a very dear price.

  Ryan went over to hug Réiltín but she pushed him away.

  “Leave me alone, Dad – you were as big a part of this charade as Mum. I’m going to live with Isla.”

  “Now hang on a minute, love – this is your home,” he said, his voice breaking.

  “I’m not staying any longer in a house where I don’t belong.” Réiltín picked up her bag to leave.

  “You do belong here. I’m not letting you go,” Jo said, standing in front of her, blocking her exit.

  “You can’t stop me.”

  “I’m not letting you go, Réiltín. Do you know the pain that we went through to have you? Do you know how small and sick you were when you were born?”

  “Yeah, I know, I nearly died twice but you and Dad prayed so hard to keep me here, blah, blah, blah!” Réiltín finished the story that Jo was so fond of telling her, the same story that she was so fond of hearing when she was a little girl. She would climb up on Jo’s knee, curl her fingers around her hair and ask her to tell her the story of when she was born. Whenever Jo got to the bit about her almost dying, she would hold her breath and Jo would feel her small heart thumping with suspense underneath the palm of her hand.

  “Well, that is the exact reason why I’m not letting you go now. No way.”

  Réiltín went to push past her but Jo grabbed her by the wrist that was holding her bag. She knew her grip was too tight but she needed to hold on to her.

  “Let go of me!” Réiltín screamed and jerked her wrist out of Jo’s grip. She walked out onto the landing. “It’s not your choice, Mum . . .” She paused before delivering her final punch. “Actually, wait a minute . . . shouldn’t I be calling you Jo now?”

  Ryan tried a softer tack. “Please, love – it’s not safe where Isla lives and it’ll be dark soon –”

  “What are you going to do? Lock me up in my room until I’m eighteen?”

  “No,” Jo said. “We just want you to calm down and when we’ve all had a chance to think about this rationally, we can talk then –”

  “Look, maybe we should just let her go,” Ryan said. “She’s made her mind up –”

  Réiltín hurried down the stairs without a backward glance. They stood paralysed on the landing, watching her go.

  “I can’t let her go!” Jo’s voice was trembling with desperation and despair. “She’s my baby, Ryan – she’s everything to me. She’s my world – this is her home, she belongs here!”

  “I know, but can’t you see she is going to go whether we like it or not?” Ryan was suddenly yelling. “Short of locking her in her room I don’t think we have many options here, do you? This is why I said we should have told her from the start, y’know!”

  “She would never have found out if you hadn’t taken it upon yourself to tell her!”

  “It was time – these things always come out in the end.”

  His eyes were burning with something that looked close to hatred and Jo wanted to crawl inside herself and hide.

  “She’s had an awful shock, Jo. She needs some space to get her head around all of this. Her whole world has just been turned upside-down – the person that she thought she was has been wiped out!”

  “I’m sorry, Ryan, I’m so sorry,” she sobbed. “But she’s still our daughter, no matter what she says or thinks. I don’t want to lose her.”

  “And you think I do? Under the circumstances I think all we can do is give her time to calm down and hope that she’ll be back home in a few days.”

  “What if she doesn’t come back?”

  “I’m not even thinking about that, to be honest, Jo. I’m going to drive after her – hopefully I can pick her up on the street.”

  “But I don’t want her to go,” Jo sobbed.

  “Well, she’s going whether you like it or not. This isn’t in your control. Either I drop her over to Isla’s flat now and at least we know that she’s somewhere safe with someone who cares about her or else we let her roam the streets in that weather where she could meet with every weirdo out there – which would you prefer?”
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  Jo nodded, resigned to the fact that this was a battle that she wasn’t going to win.

  Ryan ran down the stairs. At the door he turned to look back at Jo over his shoulder. “Maybe you should give Isla a call and tell her what’s happened so she has some time to prepare herself. This has big implications for her too . . .”

  Then he hurried outside into the rain after Réiltín.

  Chapter 30

  Same Hands

  Isla turned on the taps until the water thundered into the tub. Her plan for the evening was to take a long soak in the bath and then she was going to veg in front of the TV in her pyjamas. She poured in some sandalwood-scented bubble bath. It was an expensive one that Jo had bought her last Christmas and, while she waited for the bath to fill, she went back out to the hotpress in the kitchen to get a towel. She was just passing through the living room on her way back into the bathroom when she heard her phone ringing. She reached for it on the coffee table and she saw Jo’s number come up. Isla knew that she was calling her for a reason. Things had been so strained between the two of them that, save for the day Isla had called over to appease Réiltín, they hadn’t been in contact since. She knew that Jo wasn’t ringing her for a sisterly chat.

  “Isla – it’s me, Jo –”

  Isla could hear the panic instantly.

  “Jo? What’s up?”

  “Look, Isla – it’s Réiltín – she knows.”

  “What do you mean? Knows what?”

  “She knows, Isla, she knows about the donation.”

  “You mean that she was conceived using my eggs?”

  There was silence on the other end of the line.

  “How did she find out?” Isla probed and immediately worry spread through her mind when she thought of how she had confided in Vera and Greg.

  “We had to tell her – we had no choice. She overheard me and Ryan talking about it.”

  “Oh my God . . . I’m so sorry, Jo. How is she? How did she take it?”

  “Not good – not good at all. She’s so angry, understandably, but I don’t think she’ll ever forgive me, Isla.” Her voice broke and she dissolved into tears.

  “She’ll come round, she’s had a shock.”

  “She’s on her way over to your house.”

  “She’s coming over to me?”

  “Yes – I didn’t want her to go but we couldn’t stop her.” She was sobbing. “You know that this is all your fault, don’t you? I warned you that something like this would happen. You had to go and dig up the past. Everything was fine in my life until you started out on your quest to ruin my family.”

  “Jo, I’m so sorry – I know you’re angry but I swear that was never my intention. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t trying to upset you. I just wanted to have a baby and that was my only option. I never thought something like this would happen!”

  “Well, I hope you realise the damage you’ve done. You’ve destroyed my family.”

  Jo hung up then.

  Isla had two minutes to digest what had happened and the implications for her before her buzzer went. She had no idea how Réiltín was going to be feeling about her part in all this. Was she going to be angry with her for donating her eggs to Jo in the first place? Or just mad with her for not telling her? She took a deep breath, went down the stairs and pulled back the door.

  “Isla,” Réiltín was crying, “can I come in? I’ve nowhere else to go.”

  She walked past Isla up the stairs, carrying her hold-all over her shoulder. Isla saw Ryan hesitating on the path outside. She raised her hand in a half-wave. His shoulders were sunken; he looked like a broken man.

  He stepped forward.

  “Jo called me,” Isla said.

  “I hope you can take her in?”

  “Of course I can, but God I wasn’t expecting this . . .”

  “She’s very upset right now.” His voice was choked. “Just look after her for me, Isla, won’t you? Just look after her . . .”

  Isla knew he was close to tears.

  “Of course I will – you know you don’t even need to ask me that.”

  “I know, I’ll ring you later on to see how’s she doing.”

  “Try not to worry – it’s all going to be okay when she calms down.”

  “I hope to God you’re right, Isla.”

  Isla closed the door after he had gone and went upstairs to Réiltín, not knowing what kind of conversation would await her.

  “Why didn’t you tell me, Isla?” Réiltín sobbed as soon as Isla had reached the top of the stairs. “I expect this kind of thing from Mum and Dad but not from you.”

  “Come here.” Isla guided her over to sit down on the sofa where Réiltín fell into her arms. Isla held onto her tightly as she convulsed in tears.

  “I’m so confused – I thought Mum was my mum and now it’s you . . .”

  Isla had had no time to prepare for the onslaught and she wasn’t sure how to approach it. She knew the child was devastated but at the same time she knew that it was important to be upfront with her – she didn’t want to mislead her.

  “I’m not your mother, Réiltín, Jo is. I just gave her some eggs to help her to have a baby which was you but that was as far as my involvement went. After I donated the eggs I was out of the picture and I let your mum and dad at it.”

  “So you’re trying to tell me that Mum isn’t my mum, Dad lied to me, you don’t want me either . . . does anyone want to think about me?” She was growing hysterical.

  “Of course we’re thinking of you – we all love you but your mum is your mum – she gave birth to you – you wouldn’t be alive today if it wasn’t for your mum!”

  “And your eggs!”

  “Which part of it is upsetting you more – is it the fact that they never told you or the fact that you were conceived using a donor?”

  “I’m so mad that I don’t even know the answer to that myself!”

  “Come on, Réiltín love, you know you mean the world to your mum and dad. I bet your mum is so upset right now.”

  “I’m not going back there, Isla – if you make me go back, I’ll run away, I swear!”

  “No one is going to make you go anywhere, don’t worry. You can stay here for as long as you need to get your head around all of this but ultimately you belong with your mum and dad.”

  “Well, it’s too late – she should have told me the truth before instead of letting me find out like this! It’s horrible! I feel like I don’t belong anywhere.”

  “You know where you belong,”

  “But I’m questioning everything now. Like my hair – we have the same hair colour, Isla – I always thought it was weird having auburn hair when Mum’s is black and Dad’s is brown. How did I not notice it before?”

  “Well, your grandmother, mine and Jo’s mum, had this hair too, you know . . .”

  “And we have the same hands – look!” She held her hands out and Isla found herself hiding hers under her legs.

  “Stop treating me like this, Isla, like you’re trying to distance yourself from me. Why are you on their side? If I don’t have you then I have nobody.”

  “Hey, calm down, it’s not like that. There are no sides here, love,” Isla said, stroking her hair.

  “The whole thing is just . . . crazy! I just want everything to go back to the way it was before I heard them talking.” All her bravado evaporated and gave way to tears. She laid her head on Isla’s lap and Isla stroked her face and brushed strands of her hair behind her ears until she fell asleep, her chest rising and falling in shallow beats.

  Isla rang Jo then and told her that Réiltín was okay but upset and angry. Isla could barely make out what Jo was saying through her tears.

  “I can’t believe this has happened,” she kept repeating.

  “Look, tomorrow she’ll have calmed down a bit more and she might be willing to talk to you,” Isla tried to assure her. “Try and get some sleep tonight, it’s all going to be fine. She’ll calm down.”

  “
You better be right, Isla.”

  Chapter 31

  A Shooting Star

  Isla came in the door and placed her heavy shopping bags down on the worktop. Réiltín was sitting cross-legged on the sofa watching TV.

  “Hiya,” she said, swinging her head around from the screen.

  “So how was your day?”

  “Fine.” She turned her head back around.

  Isla began unpacking the groceries and putting them away. She pulled out loaves of bread, yoghurts, fruit and other things that she wouldn’t usually eat but thought that Réiltín might. She had bought so much extra stuff because she wasn’t used to shopping for two.

  “I bought Coco Pops and Weetabix – I wasn’t sure which you’d prefer so I bought both,” she said, holding up both boxes. “I also bought smoothies – I thought you might like them for school?”

  “Thanks, Isla.”

  She reached up to put a tin of beans into a press. “Your mum called again today,” she said, talking over her shoulder. “They’re really worried about you . . .”

  “Well, you should tell them to stop wasting their time. I don’t want to talk to them ever again.”

  “Maybe you should just hear them out – it might help?”

  “No way – I’m done with them. They said everything the other night – there’s nothing more I need to know now.”

  “C’mon, Réiltín, you’re their world, they’re devastated! If you heard your poor mum when she called me today – she’s so upset!” She opened the fridge and placed a litre of milk on the shelf inside the door.

  “Yeah, well, they should have thought about that before they decided to keep the world’s biggest secret.”

  “So how was school?” Isla changed the subject to safer ground.

  Réiltín shrugged her shoulders.

  “Were you okay today?” Isla tried again.

  Réiltín hadn’t wanted to go in that morning but Isla had used all of her powers of persuasion to make her go. A teary Jo had dropped her schoolbag and uniform into the café and Isla promised that she would make sure she went in. It had been unnerving to see Jo like that because as long as Isla had known her, she had very rarely cried. She was usually so calm and organised but she had looked frightful standing in front of her in the café. Her skin had looked grey, her eyes were red and puffy. She hadn’t bothered with her make-up and her hair wasn’t blow-dried like it usually would be.