Elisabeth Carpenter - 99 Red Balloons

I shook my head. Emma might as well have been talking about a completely different Catherine to the one I grew up with. No surprise there.

‘Well,’ she continued, ‘I remember a man and a woman coming to visit me at your house – they must’ve been from an adoption agency or something because after a while I had a new surname – the same as yours.’ She put a hand on mine and squeezed it. ‘But hey – I’m here, I survived. Though, I suppose that’s why I was a bit of a limpet when we were teenagers. And now all of this. We’re a right pair of fuck-ups, aren’t we?’

I can’t remember if we laughed or cried at that.

Emma drives into the hospital car park and pulls up the handbrake.

‘I don’t know, Steph. I don’t even hate Jean any more. I know that I should. I suppose you hate Mum, for what she did. It’s so hard, all of this. Catherine was the person who rescued me, but she was the person who took you from a family that loved you.’

I don’t want to ask Emma if she’s visited Catherine; she probably has. I don’t want to hear what that woman has to say. Emma might not hate Jean, but what I feel for Catherine goes beyond hate – I loathe her. I can’t even tolerate thinking about her.

I turn to the back seat and reach for the teddy for Grace.

Emma laughs. ‘Like she hasn’t got enough.’

‘I know, but this one is so cute.’

‘That’s what you said about the other three.’

When we get to Grace’s room, Matt’s at her bedside.

‘Should I wait out here?’ I say to Emma.

He’s barely acknowledged me since Grace was found. He hasn’t apologised for shouting at me, but then, I wouldn’t know what’s been going through his mind after Grace went missing. He must have been thinking irrationally to think it had anything to do with me.

‘Let me have a word with him,’ she says.

They’ve been doing bedside shifts so one of them has been with her twenty-four hours a day; as far as I know, they’ve hardly spoken to each other. I peek through the window into the hospital room. Matt’s stretching. He must have been sitting there for hours.

My heart pounds as he walks towards the door. I turn so I’m facing the corridor, my back against the window. I see him from the corner of my eye. He lingers for a few seconds, then walks away. I look at his back as he heads towards the lift. He stops. I look away quickly as he turns around and walks back. He stops only a few feet away from me.

‘Grace’s been asking for you,’ he says.

‘Thanks.’

He gestures to the row of three seats on the opposite side of the corridor.

‘Will you sit with me for a minute?’

‘I…’

‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to have a go at you again.’

He sits down. I sit at the opposite end to him.

‘I’ve been staying at my mum’s for a few days,’ he says.

‘Have you? Emma never said anything.’

‘No, well, I suppose you’ve got bigger things to talk about. Anyway, I told my mum what I said to you… I thought she’d back me up, you know, say that I was right to say those things, but she was horrified with me. She said how could I say those things to someone who has just found out her life was based on lies, that her real mum had died. I hadn’t really thought about it from your perspective. I just thought about Grace, and that man and—’

‘It’s all right.’

‘No, it’s not, Steph. Stop being so understanding. I can’t believe you’re not raging. If it were me, I’d be up at that remand centre punching her in the face.’

I try not to smile, but it leaks out anyway.

‘I have thought about that. For those first few days I was probably in shock, then I was furious. To be honest, I can’t think about her without it burning up inside me, and I haven’t stopped crying for weeks.’

‘Emma says you’ve been seeing a shrink.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Does it help?’

‘I think it’s too early to tell. I might need help for years.’

‘Well, yeah, I’ve always thought that about you.’

‘Very funny.’

‘Anyway, I am sorry for what I said to you. I just wanted you to know that.’

I nod. ‘Okay.’

He gets up from the chair, and glances through the window of Grace’s room.

‘Emma told me everything that happened between her and Andrew,’ he says. ‘Three months.’ He folds his arms. ‘I never even guessed she was having an affair. I suppose it made us even.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘That I had feelings for you. I shouldn’t have, I know – there’s no need to look at me like that. I’m sorry I tried to kiss you that night.’ He puts his arms out wide. ‘Why am I saying all of this to you? It’s like you see straight through me.’ He puts a hand through his hair. ‘What I’m trying to say – badly – is that I’m sorry.’

‘Thank you.’

‘You don’t have to say you forgive me or anything.’

‘Okay.’

‘But if, you know, you ever feel like saying you forgive me, then that’s fine.’

‘I’ll let you know.’

He shakes his head, a slight grin on his face.

‘I’ll see you soon then, Steph.’ And he walks away.

Emma peers her head round the side of the door.

‘Ahem. Auntie Steph, we have a patient in here who has been promised yet another teddy bear.’

I pick up the toy and walk into the room. Grace is sitting up and there’s colour in her cheeks. There are pens and paper on the table across her bed. Her eyes light up as she sees me. I can’t believe she looks so well after what she’s been through. I thought we’d never see her again.

‘A pink elephant!’ she says. ‘I love it, Auntie Steph.’

‘I thought you might,’ I say, grabbing her in a hug. Every time I hold her, I don’t want to let go.

‘When can Jamie come and visit?’ she says into my shoulder. ‘I haven’t seen him for ages.’

‘I can bring him tomorrow if you like.’ I stand up and stroke her hair.

She nods her head, and hands me a picture.

‘What’s this?’ I say.

‘It’s a cake drawing of course,’ says Grace. ‘Mummy says we’re going to start our own bake club every Sunday. You can come too, if you want?’

‘That sounds brilliant, Grace. Tell you what – I’ll let you and Mummy practise first, and then I can be your official taster.’

She tilts her head to one side.

‘Okay,’ she says. ‘You and Daddy can be testers. And Jamie. You can all score me and Mummy.’ She leans forward and whispers, ‘Don’t tell Mummy, but I already know how to bake a cake. We made one at school last term.’

She puts a finger to her mouth. I do the same.

‘Have you thought any more about contacting your father?’ says Emma quietly, pouring water into Grace’s beaker. ‘I saw that woman this morning – the one who owns the B&B that he and your grandmother were staying at.’

‘Really? What did she say? What were they like?’

‘She said they waited in reception every morning until late at night, every day for over a week.’

‘Did they? I thought they’d have gone back up north.’

Emma frowns at me. ‘Why would you think that? They’ve spent so long looking for you, they wouldn’t just leave you the same day they came.’

I feel a pain in my chest when I think of them both waiting for me, hoping I would come and find them.

‘It was all too much, Em. Everything was too much.’

‘I know. You were in shock. You hardly spoke to anyone for days.’

She reaches into her handbag, pulls out a card and hands it to me.

‘This is Maggie’s address. I know you have it already, but I wrote it down again for you, just in case.’

I feel the smooth card in my hand. I’ve been scared to even think about them properly. It was easier to think about Sarah, my mother, because she was dead. Dead people can’t disappoint you – you can make them into whatever you want.