by Rebecca Pugh
She’d returned to London life with surprising ease considering all that had happened. She’d slipped back into the old familiar routine of work, organising coffee-mornings and gym sessions with Sarah, all of the things that had been part of her life before she’d returned to Bluebell Hill. Deb had been in touch about Bluebell House but only to inform her that there hadn’t yet been any interest in the property. That suited Jessica down to the ground though. She felt like Bluebell House could wait a while longer. Gradually, she’d felt herself turning back into the calm, sensible person that she’d always been and the chaos and upheaval of Bluebell Hill had faded away to the back of her mind.
Changing into her pyjamas and settling down on the sofa with the postcards and the wristband, she took a deep breath and attempted to study the items with a fresh, clean outlook.
Her eyes kept returning to the address at the top of each postcard. During her time away from everything that Bluebell Hill had revealed to her, she’d taken it all into consideration and thought long and hard about what she wanted to do. She’d spent many a lunch-break trying to figure out what was best for her, and much to Sarah’s frustration, even been caught staring into space whilst jogging on the treadmills at the gym.
‘Right. Something’s up. What’s wrong?’ Sarah had finally pressed during one of their trips to Maggie’s coffee shop. ‘You’ve had this faraway look in your eye for days now, so you better tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?’
Jessica had laughed as she’d nursed her cappuccino. She should have known that she couldn’t hide anything from Sarah. ‘I’ve been thinking,’ she’d started off slowly, ‘about the possibility of trying to find my birth mother…’ She’d allowed the idea to just hang in the space between them. She’d tried to gauge Sarah’s reaction and had studied her friend’s face across the table.
‘And how do you feel about it?’ Sarah asked eventually, picking at her chocolate muffin and popping tiny crumbs into her mouth. ‘Do you see it as a possibility?’ She’d watched Jessica carefully.
‘When I first found out about her, not so much, but just lately I haven’t been able to get the idea of trying to find her out of my mind.’
‘You know I’ll support whatever you decide to do, Jess. Always.’
Now, sat on her sofa alone, and after mulling it over for days upon days, she finally reached a conclusion. She wanted to go and find her birth mother. She was completely aware of the fact that there was a chance that Helen Parker had long since moved on from the address that was on the postcards, but there was also a chance that she hadn’t. She couldn’t help the flutter of hope that rose up in her chest when she thought about turning up on the doorstep of the address mentioned and actually coming face to face with her birth mother. All of the answers that she’d wanted would finally become available to her, if she found her. After weighing up her options, she decided that yes, she wanted to try and find her. She wanted to take her chances and go to the address, to see whether her birth mother was still there. In the grand scheme of things, Jessica realised that she had nothing to lose. Sarah was behind her no matter what decision she made and that was all that she needed really.
She placed the wristband and postcards down beside her on the two-seater sofa and tugged her laptop onto her lap. She brought up a map and copied the address from the postcard. Just like that, an image of the place appeared on the screen. She swallowed and blinked at it. There it was. The image was a little unclear and patchy in places but she could make it out almost perfectly. It was a block of apartments by the look of things. She studied the rows and rows of windows that lined the building and wondered whether Helen Parker was sat behind one of them, peering out at the sky and thinking about her long-lost daughter that she’d given up so long ago. Jessica blinked away the sudden threat of tears and shook her head. Well, at least she had an idea of what the place looked like, that was a start.
After a few minutes more of staring at the screen, she snatched up her phone and pressed Sarah’s name in her contact list.
It rang for a couple of seconds until she picked up. ‘Jess?’
‘I was thinking. Do you fancy a long weekend in Paris?’
She didn’t need to ask twice. The squeal from the other end of the call was the only answer that she needed. Two tickets to Paris were booked for the following weekend. She had to make the decision quickly while she felt brave.
Afterwards, she lay her head back against the sofa and took a deep breath. She was glad that Sarah would be accompanying her on the trip, mainly because her friend’s child-like glee and excitement would help her through such a nerve-wracking and potentially life-changing time. The thought of turning up nothing in her search left her feeling deflated, but she knew that if she didn’t try, she’d never know. So much had changed since she’d sat on the train on her way to Bluebell Hill. She’d met Rueben who she was missing terribly although she wouldn’t admit that to anyone. She’d found out that her parents were not, in fact, her parents, but her aunty and uncle. She’d packed up Bluebell House, she’d found the baby box and the postcards… Who knew what awaited her next?
She wondered what Rueben was doing at that moment. Had he been angry when she’d left without saying goodbye? She hoped he’d understood. It had been for the best. That’s what she’d been repeatedly telling herself during her time back in London. She couldn’t deny that her feelings for him had continued to grow during their time together. The night he’d made love to her, causing her to cry out into the silence of Bluebell House, would remain firmly etched into her memory.
***
The next morning, she walked along the busy London streets towards Partridge & Co. The early morning sun was beaming down on the concrete walkers and with a takeout coffee in her hand, she felt happy as she walked along, dodging the passers-by. She stepped through the revolving doors of the impressive glass building and was immediately hit by the cool air of the air conditioning in the marble-floored lobby. The heels of her shoes clicked against the shiny flooring as she made her way to reception. Martha, now heavily pregnant, grinned widely when she saw Jessica approaching.
‘Good morning, little lady!’ The friendly receptionist planted a kiss on her cheek and squeezed her shoulder, before returning to the comfort of her padded seat. With a hand on her protruding stomach, she sat down, still wearing her smile. She was like this every single morning without fail. Jessica adored her.
‘Any mail? I better go, or I’ll be late!’
Martha nodded, spun around on her chair and took a thick wad of envelopes, held together by an elastic band, from the pigeonholes behind her. ‘There you are, sweetness.’ Martha returned her attention to the computer screen, singing as she did so.
‘Thanks, Martha!’ Jessica headed towards the elevators, sipping the last of her coffee and flicking through the envelopes with interest.
When she arrived on the third floor, she strode over to Eleanor’s office, the trip to Paris on her mind. ‘Hi, Eleanor. I was wondering if I could have a quick word.’
‘Of course,’ Eleanor said, smiling from behind her desk and beckoning Jessica inside. ‘Take a seat.’
The women sat opposite each other, Eleanor with her legs crossed primly. ‘Well, the thing is, I have some personal business that I need to attend to. I was wondering, if it’s at all possible, is there any chance I’d be able to book next Monday off?’
Eleanor’s lips pursed slightly and she studied Jessica curiously. ‘Nothing serious, I hope?’
It was serious in Jessica’s mind. ‘No, nothing serious,’ She lied. ‘Just a few final strings that I need to tie up. It really won’t take me long at all.’
‘Okay. That’s fine. I’ll pop it in the calendar. Thank you for letting me know.’
Jessica smiled gratefully, feeling a rush of relief. She’d already purchased the tickets. It was really happening. She was going to Paris to find her birth mother. ‘Thank you so much, Eleanor.’
Later that evening, once she’d
rolled into bed, Jessica closed her eyes and felt herself drifting off, until her phone bleeped noisily from the bedside table and woke her right back up again. She pushed herself up onto her elbows and blinked in the darkness at her phone screen, lit up brightly with a new message on the bedside table. She rubbed at her eyes as she tugged the charger out and fell back onto the pillows as she unlocked the screen and opened up the message. Her heart began to bang against her chest as she read it. It was from Rueben. It felt like it had been years since she’d spoken to him but in reality it hadn’t even been two months.
‘I miss you. R x’
She reread those three words numerous times, trying to think of a reply, and even though she wanted to tell him that she missed him too, she couldn’t quite bring herself to do it. The chances of seeing Rueben again were slim to none. If she were to tell him that she missed him, she’d only get his hopes up, and she didn’t want to do that to him. She’d already hurt him enough, she couldn’t deepen the blow. She felt her mouth turn down at the corners, and left the phone on her chest as she stared into the darkness above. God, she missed him. She missed him so much it hurt. She picked her phone back up, moved her fingers over the keys and pressed send, before plugging the charger back in and rolling over to face away from it, tears sliding down her cheeks in the darkness of her bedroom.
***
All the way back in Bluebell Hill, Rueben grabbed his phone quickly as it beeped with the notification of a text. She’d replied. She’d actually replied. He hadn’t expected to hear from her so quickly, if at all. He’d asked Esme for her number, after waking up alone in Bluebell House and discovering that she’d already left for London. He’d been gutted. In fact, no, gutted didn’t even begin to describe how he’d felt. Thankfully, Esme had handed Jessica’s number straight over without question.
He’d been mulling it over all day, wondering whether she would even want to hear from him, whether he was just wasting his time in hoping to hear from her. If he was going to be honest, it had taken a whole lot of restraint to not text her as soon as he’d saved her number in his phone, but once he’d climbed into bed tonight, his will power had finally crumbled as his thoughts, yet again, had returned to her. He opened the message with haste, desperate to read her reply, but when his eyes fell on the words, and as he sat on the edge of the bed in the darkness of his room, he closed his eyes in defeat and rubbed a hand over his face. He’d known all along that she’d say something along those lines.
‘You should forget about me. I’m sorry.’
Chapter Thirteen
The time between booking the tickets and flying out to Paris seemed to pass by in a flurry of work and general day-to-day life. By the time the end of her last working day rolled around, Jessica’s nerves were beginning to get the better of her. Her thoughts had been full of Paris and her birth mother, leaving little room for anything else. She still couldn’t quite believe that things had turned out in the way that they had. It was surreal and sometimes she pinched herself to make sure it wasn’t all some vivid dream. The pinching didn’t help, and she still found herself faced with the same circumstances.
Switching off the computer at the end of the day, Jessica grabbed her bag from off her desk and headed towards the elevators. She’d stayed late to finish off some notes, but now she couldn’t wait to get home and put her feet up before the madness that tomorrow would surely bring. Sarah was stopping over at the apartment that night to save time in the morning, so she wouldn’t be alone the night before. She was thankful for that. Stepping out of the building, she was greeted by the hustle and bustle of London nightlife, women dressed for a night out, in the hopes of attracting a few admiring glances in one of the many nightclubs peppered along the streets. She used to find the prospect of a night out exciting, but now, it just seemed like such a waste of time when she had more pressing matters to consider. She hurried across the road, avoided a group of drunken men singing loudly as they swayed along the street, and speed-walked back to her apartment.
Sarah arrived minutes after Jessica had stepped through the door and closed it behind herself. She smirked and pulled it back open, coat and shoes still on seeing as she’d only just stepped inside herself.
‘Hello,’ she said as she pulled open the door and invited her inside.
Sarah was grinning from ear to ear, the excitement radiating from her. She hurried inside, suitcase behind her, and squeezed Jessica tightly. ‘We’re going to Paris!’ she squealed, clapping her hands with childish glee. ‘And hello!’
Once she’d taken off her coat and slipped her aching feet out of her heels, Jessica followed Sarah into the kitchen where she was helping herself to the wine in the fridge. She reached up to the cupboard on tiptoes and took out two glasses.
‘What are we eating?’
‘I was thinking Chinese?’
‘Perfection.’ Sarah handed a glass to her and clinked it with her own. ‘To a new adventure,’ she toasted, nodding at Jessica with meaning. ‘Together. You know I’ve always got your back, and always will have, Jess.’
‘Together,’ Jessica smiled. They took the glasses through to the next room, and Sarah ordered their food. The evening was enjoyable, and Sarah’s company was a blessing. She took Jessica’s mind completely off the impending trip, and made her laugh until her sides hurt.
‘So, have you heard from Rueben?’ Sarah asked, refilling their glasses.
Jessica’s smile faded as she held her glass out to accept more wine. ‘Yeah. I have, actually.’ She took a sip and averted her eyes, studying the TV screen instead. The lights in the room were low and the room had a cosy atmosphere. She buried herself deeper into the sofa and could feel Sarah’s eyes on her.
‘And?’ Sarah asked, sitting back down, legs tucked beneath her. ‘What did he say? Is he pining for you?’ She giggled to herself, then hiccupped.
Jessica smirked. ‘He just sent a text. That’s all. Nothing major, before you start losing your mind.’
‘Oh!’ Sarah nudged her playfully, almost knocking the wine glass out of her hand. ‘And what did this mysterious text say? Am I allowed to know, or is it a big secret?’
Jessica rolled her eyes. ‘You’re filthy. Nothing X-rated if that’s what you’re thinking.’ She picked her phone up from the armrest of the sofa and reread the message that she’d received from Rueben. ‘He said that he missed me. That’s it. Like I said, nothing major.’ She shrugged.
Sarah’s mouth dropped open and her eyes lit up like the Empire State building. ‘He misses you?’
‘Yes. He misses me.’
‘And do you miss him?’ Sarah asked, leaning a little closer with interest. ‘Honestly?’
Jessica stared at her phone, feeling sad as she thought of the reply she’d sent him. She hadn’t wanted to send those words to him, but she had felt like she’d had no choice in the matter. She didn’t want to give him hope. ‘Maybe a tiny bit, but it’ll pass. I told you, Sarah, we were never going to be anything. I’ll probably never see him again, and that will be that.’ She looked at Sarah with an overly bright smile plastered on her face, desperate to change the subject. ‘But anyway, let’s forget it. I reckon we should get off to bed now. Early morning. I’ve already booked the taxi for the airport.’ Jessica stood and stretched. Sarah followed. The two women said their goodnights and went their separate ways. Sarah had decided to take the sofa, so Jessica slipped into her bed with her thoughts full of Rueben, which was beginning to become the norm. No matter what she did, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She’d thought that sending such that text would help her see the whole thing as a closed case, but unfortunately, it wasn’t turning out that way at all. In fact, her thoughts were turning to the man more and more.
***
At just gone nine the next morning, the taxi beeped outside in the street alerting them to its presence, which in turn caused Sarah to squeal ridiculously loudly and almost burst Jessica’s eardrums in the process. ‘It’s here!’ she called to Jessica, ev
en though Jessica had heard the beep quite clearly. ‘The taxi is here!’
‘I know, I know!’ Jessica couldn’t help it. Sarah was like a child on Christmas morning, which was one of the many reasons why she adored her best friend so much. There were a couple of last-second checks to ensure that they had everything they needed, and then they were out into the street. Their cases were loaded into the boot and the women buckled up their seatbelts, grinning wildly at each other.
‘This is it,’ Sarah said as she turned to Jessica, shivering with anticipation. ‘We’re going to Paris, Jess. We’re actually doing it.’
‘We are,’ Jessica enthused. She turned away as Sarah began typing out a text to Luke. She watched London pass by through the window. Despite the excitement radiating from Sarah, she knew that there was a serious undertone to their trip. She could allow herself to get carried away with the excitement of visiting somewhere new, but deep down she was fully aware that the trip to Paris was an important one. This was it. She was going to try find her birth mother. She was going to search for the only woman who had the answers to her endless questions. She was going to hunt her down and try to piece together the pieces of her past which made her who she was today. She wanted to know every single little thing that had led to her being left in Miriam and Arthur McAdams’ care. She wanted to know why. She wanted to know how. But most of all, she wanted to know that someone, somewhere in the world, was linked to her. If she could find her birth mother, perhaps the rest would fall into place.
‘Your phone’s ringing,’ Sarah said just as the taxi was nearing the airport.
Jessica blinked. She’d been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t even heard the ringtone. ‘Hello?’ she asked, once she’d answered.
‘Jess, hi! It’s Deb here. Just giving you a quick call to say that we’ve had some interest in Bluebell House!’
‘Oh wow,’ Jessica replied. ‘That’s fantastic news. Listen, Deb, I’m actually just on my way to the airport. Having a long weekend with a friend. Would you mind giving me a call once I’m back in the UK? Tuesday should be okay. Is that all right with you?’
