‘I never lost you,’ Angela answered simply. ‘I always knew where you were. Actually, that’s not right. I went looking for you. I made sure I took extra-long to do the shopping and walk through the places where you used to go. I even asked a policeman, once, if he’d seen you—I had these photos, you see, so I could show him. He hadn’t, but he asked if I wanted to report you missing.’ Her mouth twisted in a sad smile. ‘But I couldn’t. I looked for weeks before I found you—and then it was only by chance. You walked by the green grocer’s while I was getting veggies for dinner.’ Angela looked away, lost in memories. ‘I was in the back, and there you were. Just in front of the window. I went running out, but you’d gone so quickly. Then I asked the owner if he’d seen you before. He was quite stroppy when he told me he knew you were stealing from his front stalls, but he couldn’t catch you.’
‘He knew?’
Angela nodded. ‘So I suggested he let you take whatever you wanted, and I’d come in and pay him every week. That way, I knew you were eating well, not scavenging in rubbish bins like some urchin. I had to do something. Evan always kept a close eye on the household budget, but I managed to make sure there was enough to cover what you ate. He wouldn’t have any idea what groceries cost. He just liked to make sure we were thrifty. Which is why you always had hand-me-down clothes, unfortunately.’
Tamara gave a wry half smile. ‘I’ve made up for that,’ she said. ‘Now about—’
Angela held up her hand in a ‘stop’ gesture. She put her plate aside and met Tamara’s eyes, a lifetime of regret and sadness in her expression.
‘After that, I went back often to catch a glimpse of you at that corner. You’d be with other kids, a girl and a boy. Then you disappeared.’ She paused. ‘I still remember the day I saw you again: the third of April, three years later. I was walking through the shopping centre on my way to the dry-cleaning store with Evan’s suit. I happened to look at a dress in the window of a shop, two doors down.’ She stopped and took a breath. Her eyes had gone a little red. ‘And there you were. Putting clothes up on the racks, helping customers. I was so proud. So you see, I never lost you.’
Tamara’s appetite was gone. ‘What?’ she whispered.
‘Did you really think I’d let you go without keeping an eye on you? That wasn’t possible. Like I said, I should have spoken out a lot more than I did to Evan, but the die had been cast. I couldn’t have left Evan—I threatened to, once.’ She sighed deeply. ‘But that’s another story. And I truly believed you’d be better off out of this house. He was hurting you, and he could have done worse, so I had to let you go. Please understand! It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. I wanted—needed—you to be happy . . .’
Tamara widened her eyes, anger surging through her body. ‘Are you serious?’ she asked in a low voice. ‘Happiness?’ Her voice broke. ‘I didn’t get that with you two. I got criticism, taunts, little affection and even less love. All of that makes for a fairly unhappy childhood, and it—’ Somehow she reined her emotions in and continued in a steady voice. ‘It’s made my adult life very difficult. And now you’re telling me you sent me out on the streets on purpose? What sort of a . . .’ She let it all out this time. ‘What sort of a person does that?’
She placed her plate roughly on the coffee table and stood up, then watched as Angela’s shoulders drooped and all of her strength seemed to vanish. In front of Tamara’s eyes, her mother shrank and became a little old lady.
Tamara paced the room, desperate to leave, but also desperate to hear more.
Angela seemed to rally and stood up too. ‘You can go ahead and blame me for the things that have happened in your life, but they would have been a whole lot worse if Evan had had his way. Please, try and understand.’
‘Shit.’ Tamara shook her head. She went into the kitchen and grabbed another beer from the fridge.
Angela followed her and stood quietly, watching. ‘I need to tell you the whole story. It starts a lot earlier than when he kicked you out. It starts when you were born. And how you came to us.’
Tamara put down the beer and looked at her mum. ‘What do you mean?’
Angela paused. ‘Do you think you can come back in and sit down while I tell you? If you don’t want anything to do with me afterwards, I’ll accept that. I’ll leave you alone, but I can’t die without you knowing everything.’
Feeling numb, but still needing to know ‘the truth’, Tamara took her beer and did as she’d been asked.
When they were in the rockers again, Angela stared into the distance as she spoke. ‘Evan and I tried to have children for many years and nothing happened. When tests showed the problem was with Evan and not me, that’s when everything changed. I saw a story in the newspaper about the need for more foster-parents. I started thinking about adoption, so I made enquiries. It took me a long time, but I finally convinced him. Of course, we had to jump through hoops to be accepted—but once we were, I didn’t think there could be any turning back.’
Her eyes flickered all around, never once resting on Tamara. All Tamara could feel was the thudding of her heart as she stared at the woman she’d thought for over forty years was her mum.
‘On the day you were born, we got the phone call quite early. We had to meet the social worker at the hospital. I remember getting dressed in a hurry—we’d been sitting at the table having a cup of coffee. We knew you were due, but your birth mother—well, she’d gone over her due date. We’d been on tenterhooks for days.’
Angela stopped to take a sip of water.
‘When you were brought in to us, I burst into tears. The happiest I’d been for so long. You were tiny and had eyes so, so blue. And when they handed you to me, your hand wrapped around my finger as tightly as anything. You were so precious.’
Her dreamy voice suddenly became harsh and bitter.
‘I asked Evan if he wanted to hold you, but he took a step back. I remember it so clearly. His face went red then white, and his fists clenched. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “I don’t want this,” he said. “I can’t have a kid that’s not mine.” Well, I was flabbergasted. And frightened that he wouldn’t let me take you home. I’d already fallen in love with you, so there was no way you weren’t coming home with me.’ She sighed. ‘Of course when the social worker heard that, she got very worried. We’d already been through counselling, you see, to make sure we’d be able to cope.’
Tamara broke out in a sweat. She was sure her heart was going to come right out of her chest, it was beating so fast. And she couldn’t breathe.
‘I asked the social worker for a moment alone with my husband. “He’s overwhelmed,” I told her. When she left the room, I went up to him. We were almost touching noses. “Evan,” I said, “if you don’t sign those papers, I’ll leave you.”’ Angela smiled at the memory. ‘He scoffed at me for a couple of seconds, then he realised I was serious. “We take that child home today and give her a life,” I said, “or you’ll regret the day you ever met me.” And then we took you home.’
Tamara put her face in her hands, trying to understand.
‘Parenthood doesn’t come with a manual,’ Angela said, kneading the palms of her hands with wrinkled, arthritic fingers. ‘You were a . . . “difficult” is a harsh word, but you had a lot of colic and tended to be unsettled. Evan wasn’t used to noise of any sort. He’d look for any excuse to criticise me, my parenting. You. Even when you were still tiny, he said awful things about you. Of course, it wasn’t all his fault. One of the only times I ever stood up to him was in the hospital. After that, he tried to make sure I never could. He’d cut me down, call me names, undermine me when we were out in public. It was easier to stay quiet than try to argue.’
Tamara couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She tried to form words, but despite the beer she’d been drinking, her mouth was dry and her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth. Her first instinct was to deny everything Angela had just told her—and make her swear that it wasn’t true.
/> But something about Angela’s story suddenly made so much sense. Tamara had never been able to please Evan because she wasn’t his. He’d never given her a chance, simply because she wasn’t his child. In a warped way, that was comforting.
Angela started to speak again. ‘You have to understand, he was a good man when we married. Not a soulmate, but he was steady and solid. Had a respectable job. Like my dad said, he was a provider, and all I ever wanted to do was marry and have children. I dreamed of a house with lots of kids, mess and laughter. People to cook for. To nurture.’ She paused and looked over at Tamara. ‘Evan had a few major disappointments and changed. People do that.’
Angela seemed to have run out of words. She sat there gazing at Tamara, twisting her wedding rings around on her finger. The silence grew uncomfortable.
‘Are you going to say something?’ Angela asked, a tremor in her voice.
Tamara opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She tried again. ‘I . . .’
Angela put a hand on her arm. ‘I’m sorry I waited so long to tell you.’
‘I . . . I don’t know what to say. Sorry. Um . . .’ Tamara looked around at the house that was so achingly familiar and yet strange at the same time. ‘Thank you for telling me.’
Angela dared to smile, just a little.
Chapter 16
‘Where were you?’ her dad’s question from the previous evening echoed in Skye’s mind as she leaned against the classroom wall in the sun. It warmed her and made her dozy. She was tired from not sleeping well over the past few nights. Not since she’d walked home from the pool on Saturday. For some weird reason, she kept remembering her dad’s question, along with his look of hurt and confusion.
She hadn’t meant to hurt her parents, especially her dad. She’d been annoyed that her mum hadn’t checked her phone. Once again, something else had been more ‘important’ than her daughter. And after her mum hadn’t picked her up from the pool, it had been quicker for her to walk to the air-conditioned shopping centre than to walk all the way home in the heat. Even catching the bus had been out of the question, because she’d run out of money and her ticket had expired.
Skye had wandered through the shopping centre and browsed in a couple of the clothes shops that Adele had said were having a sale. At Angelic Threads, she had peered in through the doorway to see if the blonde shop manager was there. Skye didn’t know the woman’s name, but she was cool. The type of cool that any teenager liked: someone who talked music and clothes with the girls when they went in. Remembered their names and what they liked. Told jokes that were actually funny.
For some strange reason, Skye had a longing to talk with her. Maybe she would listen to her in a way her mum couldn’t. But Skye felt too awkward to go in.
Although the lady was busy with customers, she caught sight of Skye and waved, calling out, ‘Hi there, Skye!’
Skye just gave her a small smile back and kept on walking.
Now, leaning back against the sun-warmed wall, she hoped she hadn’t seemed like a cold bitch. Adele had told her she could be a bit standoffish.
She heard footsteps approaching and opened her eyes. Speak of the devil.
‘Hey, there you are!’ said Adele. ‘Been looking for you.’ She sat next to Skye. ‘Geez, it’s hot. Why are you sitting here?’
Skye shrugged. She didn’t want to talk just now. The sun had almost put her to sleep. This way, she didn’t have to think about the surgery her mum was having today. Her dad had been up early, and when Skye had come downstairs to get some breakfast, it had looked like her mum had stayed up all night.
Not that she cared.
They’d left to go to the surgery when she’d been in the shower.
She’d actually been tempted to not go to school today. She could have forged her mum’s signature again, and she was sure the teachers would have understood. After all, her maths teacher had pulled her aside after class the day before, saying that if Skye wanted to talk then her door was always open. Nice, Skye had thought. Nicer than her own mum, anyway. She wondered if her maths teacher had a fourteen-year-old daughter at home she was ignoring so she could focus on kids from school.
Anyway, then Skye had remembered that the school might text her parents if she wagged, so she’d decided it probably wasn’t worth the risk.
She would just have to get through the day while not thinking about anything. Big ask for someone with nearly a million different thoughts and emotions swirling around in her head. She wanted one of those things that Professor Dumbledore, from Harry Potter, had in his office, where he could put his wand to his ear and drain out all his thoughts. That would be perfect for her right about now—then she wouldn’t have to feel anything.
‘How’s your mum?’ Adele asked.
Great timing, Skye thought. Adele had always had a knack for bringing up the last thing Skye wanted to talk about.
Struggling not to show how much she cared, Skye shrugged. ‘Fine, I guess. She’s having surgery this morning. I heard Mum and Dad talking to Stu about it last night. And, get this, she’s full-on wanting to find her birth mum now too, so she can meet her before she dies. But, I mean, who wants to bring more people into our family?’
Adele raised her eyebrows. ‘Oh. My. God. They could be anyone. We might be related!’ She giggled. ‘Or . . . what if you ended up marrying your brother? I heard that long-lost siblings are really attracted to each other. Like, totally DTF.’
Jasmine flopped down next to them. ‘You don’t know if she’s going to die,’ she said to Skye. ‘Stop saying that. And if you get a new family, they might be the best people you’ve ever met, so you can go live with them instead of with your mum.’
‘I don’t need anyone extra in the family,’ said Skye, shaking her head. ‘I’ve got grandparents—ones I’ve known since I was born. I’ve got a brother, unfortunately, and I’ve got parents. Our family works fine the way it is. I don’t get why she’d want to bring strangers in. What if they’re druggies or horrible people?’
‘Yeah, your family works fine,’ Adele said sarcastically. ‘I can see how you’d think that.’
Skye frowned at her. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, you’re always bitching about how your mum’s wrapped up in work and is never around when you need her. Sounds like your family’s working great!’
Jasmine pushed Adele with her foot. ‘Stop it. Don’t be such a bitch.’
Skye looked down and thought about that. She wouldn’t admit it out loud, but Adele had a point. Sniffing, Skye got to her feet. ‘I gotta go.’
Adele jumped up and started to walk with her. Then she leaned in and whispered, ‘So, are you gonna do it? The dare? Come on, it’s been ages!’
‘Time’s got to be right, doesn’t it? I’ll text you when I’ve done it.’
‘Going to be so good,’ Adele said. ‘So much fun!’
‘Yeah, totally.’ Skye didn’t really think so, but she didn’t want to look like a loser. ‘Anyway, I gotta go,’ she said to Adele. ‘See ya.’
Skye walked towards the girls’ toilets. While she was in the cubicle, her phone dinged with a Snapchat message: a selfie of Billy, his mouth exaggeratingly turned downwards. ‘It’s been 2 days. I’m so horny.’
Yeah, she knew that. She’d also heard Adele and the girls talking about Billy and his mates yesterday at lunch.
‘Did you hear about Billy Gaston and his group?’ Jasmine had said, flicking her long blonde hair to get everyone’s attention.
Unable to stop herself, Skye leaned forward, hungry for any information about what he’d been doing. He hadn’t answered her last two texts.
‘God, what have those fuckboys done now?’ Adele asked.
‘They got pulled up by the cops coz they were breaking all the hoon laws!’
Skye’s mouth dried up. Billy had told her he was going to study all weekend—he hadn’t said anything about being caught by the cops. Maybe he hadn’t been driving: all his mates had their P-plates too.
‘Apparently they had a couple of girls from that boarding school, just down the road, with them as well.’ Jasmine’s voice had a spark of excitement, and Skye wondered if she liked bad boys too.
‘Oh well, that explains it,’ said Adele. ‘Everyone knows that school produces girls who are—’ Adele paused to give an innocent look ‘—rather loose-knickered.’
The girls fell about laughing.
Skye felt sick. What was this all about?
‘The guys probably had their hands down the girls’ shirts, and whoever was driving was trying to impress them.’
Wrinkling her nose, Skye said, ‘Who’d do that sort of shit anyway? As if I want some guy grabbing at my tits in front of all his mates.’
Adele burst out laughing. ‘You’ve got nothing but mosquito bites! Wouldn’t be anything to grab.’
Skye’s face went hot when a couple of her friends laughed, but Jasmine shifted over and put an arm around her. ‘Adele, you can be a bitch sometimes.’
Skye grabbed her bag and stalked off to the girls’ toilets. In the stall, she thought about Billy and those pretty private school girls who walked around as if they owned the world. They had so much confidence—they must have been born with it, because Skye had tried to copy their walk, but she couldn’t. Her gran had told her that confidence was attractive.
All her gran’s Mills & Boon covers came back to Skye, and she swallowed hard. Men gave in to women who were sexy and confident and had big boobs. Jealousy flooded her.
Leaving her bag in the stall, she checked the time on her iPhone: only five minutes before the bell would go. She looked in the mirror and ran her fingers through her hair, trying to achieve a sexy bed-hair look that would reveal her piercing; then took some lipstick out of her bag and tried to apply it the way the lady at the chemist had shown her. She smacked her lips together and threw her head back in what she hoped was a sexy pose. Staring at herself, she thought she looked pretty good.
Back in the stall, she took off her top and held her breast up with one hand, focused the camera, made sure her pose was right and clicked. Not giving herself time to think about it, she typed ‘missing you, big boy’ and hit send in Snapchat.
The Missing Pieces of Us Page 14
