Missing Me (2 page)

‘Madison, darling.’ Carla rushed over and air-kissed me.

‘Hi,’ I said, feeling awkward.

‘Where’s Lauren?’

‘In . . . er, in the bathroom I think.’ I looked around at Jam who was hovering in the doorway.

‘I’ll go and see,’ he said, clearly relieved to get away from his mother.

I sat down on the sofa beside Carla who proceeded to tell me that my aura was looking peaky. I let her talk. I was feeling awful. Lauren had sensed I wasn’t thrilled about her having a
baby. And not being thrilled was just about the meanest thing a sister could be.

Ten long minutes passed during which Carla talked at me non-stop. Then Jam reappeared and she started asking him about his job and whether he was eating healthily. There was no sign of Lauren.
At last the doorbell went again and Jam let in Annie. I stood up as she drifted into the room.

‘Hi, Annie,’ I said.

Annie’s eyes filled with tears as she looked at me. I wasn’t sure if it was my calling her by her name instead of ‘Mum’ that was upsetting her, or whether she was
remembering the argument we’d had this morning, over tidying my room. We used to get on really well, but recently she’d become totally annoying, always pushing for information on what
I’d been doing and who I’d been seeing. Not letting me be.

I started calling her Annie about six months ago. It’s mostly like a great big hint to her to treat me like a grown up, though it’s also a bit because Lauren does it. You see,
although Annie is Lauren’s birth mother, Lauren had been calling her adoptive parents ‘Mum and Dad’ for years before she was reunited with us, her original family.

‘Hi, Madison sweetie,’ Annie said, her hands fluttering nervously to her face. ‘You’re here . . . we could have come together, if you’d wanted.’

I looked down at my shoes.

‘Where’s Lauren?’ That was Lydia, Lauren’s adoptive mum. She must have arrived without me hearing the bell. Lydia is a lot older than Annie, with a sharp, pointy face and
severe grey eyes. I used to be a bit scared of her, but now I like her. At least she doesn’t treat me like a baby.

Lydia, Carla and Annie started chatting about what was going on. They clearly had no idea why Lauren had asked them all here together. I don’t think they really get on with each other, but
they were all making an effort. And then Lauren appeared in the doorway. I saw her first. She gave me a wink, then cleared her throat.

The mums looked up together. Annie gasped. Lydia jumped to her feet.

‘What on earth?’ Lydia said. Her face was drained of colour.

‘I’m having a baby, Mum,’ Lauren said defiantly.

And then pandemonium broke out. Everyone seemed to be talking at once.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ That was Annie, bursting into tears. ‘Oh, sweetie, you’re twenty-three, that’s
so
young to be doing this.’

‘How far gone
are
you?’ Lydia demanded. ‘What do the doctors say?’

‘I have a wonderful arrowroot and blackberry infusion. You should try it – it’s a marvellous antenatal drink,’ Carla interjected.

Somehow Lauren was managing to answer them all, but the questions kept flying.

‘How are you going to manage? Oh, sweetie, having a baby is so challenging.’

‘What about your job? Are you going back to it afterwards?’

‘Yoga is the best antenatal exercise you could take. And I have some excellent meditation tapes if you’d like them?’

‘Enough.’ Jam’s voice rang out from the doorway. ‘That’s enough with all the questions.’

Everyone stopped speaking. Jam marched up to Lauren and put his arm round her shoulders. ‘I know we’re young,’ he said, looking round at the women. ‘But people a lot
younger than us have had babies. We’re going to manage fine. We’re both going to carry on working and we’re both going to look after the baby. My hours as a teacher will fit in
really well. Everything’s going to be
fine.
’

‘Of course, Jam.’ Lydia smiled at him. ‘Of course, it’s wonderful news.’

They all started hugging, then Lauren called her adoptive dad, who was away on business. I glanced at Annie. She was still crying, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. I slipped outside, saying I
needed the loo. I stayed in the bathroom for longer than I meant. I still felt really upset about the baby . . . and really mean to be feeling so upset. At last I took a few deep breaths, came out
of the bathroom and went back downstairs. As I neared the living room, I could hear Lauren speaking.

‘Yes,’ she was saying. ‘Everything’s fine. I’m swimming every day, I’ve got the Chelsey Barton pregnancy book, which is
amazing
, and—’

Annie said something I couldn’t hear. I moved closer to the door.

‘
Yes
,’ Lauren said, a note of irritation in her voice. ‘I had the tests before I went to Paris. The baby’s completely healthy.’

‘But . . . but Lauren . . .’ Annie went on anxiously. ‘There might be things . . . problems . . . from your birth father. Things we don’t know about.’

I froze. What was she talking about? What didn’t we know about Dad?

‘I’m sure it’s fine,’ Lauren said. ‘They must have screened the sperm before they gave it to you.’

What?

‘But there are lots more things they can check for these days,’ Annie said.

‘I don’t see there’s much Lauren can do about that now,’ Lydia snapped.

‘Exactly, so there’s no point worrying about it,’ Jam added.

‘But I
am
worried,’ Annie went on. ‘A sperm donor could have had all sorts wrong with him.’

Sperm donor?

‘Then there’d be something wrong with me or Madison, wouldn’t there?’ Lauren muttered.

Madison.
Me?
What did I have to do with a sperm donor? What did Lauren have to do with one?

‘Just because we don’t have a full medical history for our biological dad doesn’t mean Mo or I can’t ever have a healthy baby,’ Lauren said. ‘Honestly, Annie,
please can we stop talking about this?’

Annie sniffed. I clutched at the wall beside me. My legs were shaking, my heart hammering. I took another step. I was in the doorway. The others saw me. Annie’s hand flew to her mouth. She
could see I’d heard.

‘Oh, Christ,’ Carla murmured.

‘Mo?’ Lauren took a step towards me.

I stared at her, my head still whirling. I couldn’t believe it was true. But the look on my sister’s face told me that it was. I turned to Annie. ‘You lied?’ I said.
‘About Dad?’

‘No.’ Annie’s mouth trembled. ‘He was your father, just . . .’ She looked down at the floor.

‘Just not biologically.’ Lauren stepped forward. ‘Mo?’

But I didn’t wait to hear the rest. I turned and fled. Along the hall, out the front door and away.

Of course, as soon as I’d got halfway down the street, I wanted to go back. I wanted answers. I didn’t understand what I’d heard, just that Sam Purditt
wasn’t my biological father. But how that was possible I couldn’t imagine.

I reached Jam and Lauren’s car and stopped running. Yes, I wanted to know more, but I couldn’t go back. It was too humiliating. All the people in the room – all the mums plus
Lauren – they clearly knew the whole story. About
my
dad. And yet no-one had told me. Why? Was there some terrible secret they thought I wasn’t old enough to cope with?

Footsteps sounded along the pavement. I looked up as Jam pounded up to me, then bent over, catching his breath.

‘Mo,’ he said. ‘They are such idiots. I can’t believe no-one told you.’

‘You knew too?’ Tears bubbled behind my eyes. I couldn’t bear being left out like this. And I still didn’t know what they were all talking about. ‘What did they
mean? Who was my biological father?’

‘I don’t know.’ Jam frowned. ‘I don’t know any of the details. I haven’t talked about it to anyone since . . . man, it was
years
ago. There was a
letter we found, me and Lauren. Your dad – Sam – he’d written to Lauren before he died, explaining that they used a sperm donor for you and Lauren because Sam couldn’t have
kids.’

‘A sperm donor?’ The world felt like it was spinning inside my head. My father was a sperm donor . . . out of a test tube? ‘Who was he?’

‘I don’t know,’ Jam said. ‘The letter didn’t go into details. I . . . I wanted to say something, but it wasn’t the right time . . .’

‘You wanted to tell me?’ My heart was racing.

‘Actually, back then I wanted to tell Shelby. There was a letter for her as well.’

‘Right . . . thanks.’ I turned away. Shelby was my other sister. She died in a fire the year after Dad. ‘You’re saying you thought Shelby had a right to know, but not
me?’

Jam grabbed my arm. ‘The letters were for Shelby and Lauren, not you.’

My mouth trembled. So Sam Purditt not only wasn’t my biological father, he hadn’t even bothered to write me my own letter telling me so.

Jam obviously saw what I was thinking.

‘Shelby got a separate letter because her dad was . . . different from yours and Lauren’s,’ he said.

‘Right,’ I said.

‘And because you were so little,’ Jam went on, ‘I thought your mum should tell you or something. Please, Mo, you were only eight.’

‘OK, but I’m not eight now.’

‘I know.’ Jam sighed. He glanced back towards the apartment. ‘Annie’s having a total meltdown in there because she knows she should have told you and couldn’t face
it.’

I nodded. I was used to Annie’s meltdowns.

‘So will you come back inside?’ Jam asked. ‘Lauren feels terrible.’

I hesitated a moment. I still wanted answers. Most particularly, I wanted to know who this sperm donor was. But I couldn’t face Annie in hysterics right now. And I couldn’t face all
of them together, feeling sorry for me.

‘No,’ I said. ‘Not right now. I just want to be on my own for a bit.’

Jam nodded. Like Lauren he’s good at sensing when it’s best not to push me. In fact, he’s good at that with everyone – it’s one of the things that I imagine makes
him a great teacher. ‘OK, that’s fair enough.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Hey, Mo, you are pleased for me and Lauren, aren’t you? About the baby, I mean?’

I nodded. ‘Sure,’ I said. ‘Course I am.’

Jam went back inside and I trudged away, turning off my phone in case Annie tried to call me. I’d intended to walk around for a bit, but I soon found myself outside a tube station and once
I was through the barrier there didn’t seem much point doing anything except going home. While Lauren’s apartment is close to central London, Annie and I live just ten minutes’
walk from Lauren’s adoptive parents in north London. Annie chose the house years ago, when Lauren still lived at home, so I could be near to my big sister.

How could Lauren have kept such a massive secret from me for so many years? I was used to Annie getting stuff like that wrong. But not Lauren. She’d always been so totally on my side
– fierce and loyal and true. And yet she hadn’t been honest with me about who our father was. It hurt more than I could bear.

I let myself in and went up to my room. I was sure Annie wouldn’t be far behind me and right now I couldn’t face the thought of speaking to her. I switched on my phone – missed
calls from both Annie and Lauren. I didn’t listen to their messages. Instead, I plugged my headphones into my mobile. I needed music. I needed to lose myself in someone else’s pain, so
I didn’t have to think about my own.

I was about to press play when the doorbell rang. I hesitated. I wasn’t expecting anyone – and it couldn’t be Annie or Lauren. They both had keys. The doorbell sounded again
– a long, persistent ring. Sighing, I went downstairs.

Lauren’s adoptive brother, Rory, was standing on the doorstep, his friend Marcus beside him. I tugged self-consciously at my hair. It wasn’t Rory I was embarrassed to see –
we’ve known each other for years
and
we go to the same school. He’s like my cousin or something. We’re not close, exactly. But we get on OK.

No, it was Marcus I was shy around. He’s the same age as Rory – seventeen – but, like, the most good-looking boy in London. Cool hair, styled with a long fringe today, tall and
broad-shouldered, with piercing green eyes. I’d had a crush on him for two years.

‘Hey, Madison.’ Rory’s ruddy cheeks stretched into a smile. ‘Are you OK?’

‘Sure.’ I glanced at Marcus, feeling my face reddening. He was looking bored, stifling a yawn as he leaned against the door frame.

‘Mum made me come round, to see if you were here.’ Rory rolled his eyes. ‘They’re all in a panic about you down at Lauren’s. Is it true she’s
pregnant?’

‘Yeah.’

Rory rolled his eyes again. ‘Is that why you flipped out?’

‘No.’ My cheeks burned even hotter.

Marcus stifled another yawn. ‘If she’s OK, can we go?’ he said.

Rory looked at me. ‘Sure you’re all right?’

‘Course.’ I flicked back my hair in what I hoped was a vaguely sophisticated and confident gesture. Marcus gave no sign that he’d noticed. Then a thought struck me. ‘Hey,
Rory, d’you know anything . . . about my dad? Stuff that my mum might have told yours, maybe that she didn’t want me to know about?’

Rory made a face. ‘No. Why?’

I shrugged. ‘Never mind.’ I started to close the door. Marcus caught my eye and winked. What was he doing? He’d looked so totally bored just a second ago. I smiled uncertainly
back.

‘Hey, Madison.’ Rory’s voice almost made me jump.

‘What?’

‘My mum keeps a bunch of diaries about old stuff,’ he said. ‘Maybe yours does too.’

The two boys set off along the pavement. In spite of all the turmoil in my head, I couldn’t help wishing I’d been a bit cooler around Marcus. He walked with a rolling swagger that
managed to convey absolute confidence with a hint of ‘don’t mess with me’ danger.

I shut the door and thought about what Rory had said. Diaries. I couldn’t imagine Annie keeping a diary. She had enough trouble keeping track of everyday life to do anything requiring that
kind of focus. She didn’t even own a computer. Still, it was worth a look.

I raced up to her bedroom, guessing that’s where she’d keep something as personal as a diary. Our cleaner had been earlier, so the surfaces were all clear and tidy, but I knew the
chaos that would face me as soon as I opened any of the cupboard doors. I tried the bedside table drawer. Sure enough, it was overflowing with tissues and hand creams and manicure kits. No paper at
all. Then I opened the wardrobe door. That was crammed with dresses and tops and trousers, most of them half off their hangers. Shoes littered the floor space, plus a pair of my old dolls, three
plastic bags, a pottery cup Shelby and I made for her at camp one summer, a box of old lipsticks, and a wooden drumstick – goodness knows where that had come from.