The Lying Game (14 page)

‘Athletics, I suppose.’

‘Me, too!’

Nell took another bite of her sandwich and peered in the mirror on the wall behind her to wipe off a smudge of peanut butter. The woman was sitting directly behind her, her image floating over
Nell’s shoulder; and suddenly she saw it. She couldn’t think how she hadn’t twigged before. God, she was an idiot. No wonder the woman looked familiar! Nell saw the same face in
the mirror
every day!
The same fine-boned features, the same grey eyes, the same
everything.

She whirled round. ‘You’re not just a friend, are you?’

The woman and Mum sat perfectly still.

‘We’re related, aren’t we?’ Nell demanded.

Slowly the woman nodded.

‘Are you, like, my dad’s sister or something?’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘My dad,’ Nell said impatiently. ‘Patrick James. Ryan told you about me, right? So, are you my aunt or what?’

‘No,’ the woman said faintly. ‘No, I’m not related to your dad.’

‘Then how come you look so much like me?’ Nell turned back to the mirror so she could see their reflections side by side again, and pointed. ‘I mean, look at us! You could be,
like, my mother!’

‘Yes,’ the woman said. ‘I could.’

‘She is,’ Mum said quietly.

The woman glanced at Mum, and Nell saw something pass between them, an understanding. ‘What?’ she demanded.

‘Harriet
is
your mother,’ Mum said.

She gaped. ‘You’re kidding me? Like, she was an egg donor or something?’

‘No.’ Mum sighed. ‘Nell, could you sit down?’

‘I don’t need to sit down. I just need someone to tell me what’s going on.’

‘The day after you were born,’ Mum said, dragging out each word as if it actually hurt her to say them, ‘there was a fire alarm at the hospital. It was chaos. Nurses were
running round everywhere, not sure if it was a false alarm or not, wondering if they should evacuate everyone. And somehow . . . somehow in all the confusion there was a mistake in the nursery. Two
of the babies got mixed up.’

She tried to take this in. ‘Am I one of them?’ she asked finally.

‘Yes. You and Harriet’s little girl.’

For a long moment, she couldn’t think of anything to say. Teri was never going to believe this. It was like some kind of switched-at-birth made-for-TV movie.
She
didn’t
believe it, and she was right in the middle of it.

‘Is this for real? Are you
sure?’

‘We’re sure,’ Mum said quietly. ‘Those tests at the hospital last month confirmed it.’

‘Why didn’t you just tell me that’s what they were for?

‘Sweetheart, I’m so sorry—’

‘Never mind. I get it. You didn’t want to upset me until you were certain, blah, blah.’ She took a deep breath. ‘OK, OK. So what you’re saying is, I should’ve
gone home with Harriet. She’s, like, my birth mother.’

‘I know this must be a huge shock,’ Mum said desperately. ‘But it doesn’t change anything. You’re still my daughter. I still love you as much as I always have.
Nothing’s changed, sweetheart, you have to believe that.’

‘Hold on. I’m processing here.’ She paced to the other side of the sitting room, then came back to the chair and sat down, folding her arms. ‘OK then. So I’ve spent
all this time thinking I had a dad who was pretty much just a sperm donor. Patrick did his thing, you got knocked up, and then he checked out. And then later you met Richard, and he’s pretty
much been my dad ever since.’

‘Nell—’

‘So the way I see it is this. I survived all this time without a dad. Well, without an actual
biological
dad. Richard’s all I’ve ever needed.’

‘He loves you as much as if you were his own.’

‘So have you.’

Mum looked at Harriet helplessly.

Honestly,
she thought.
How complicated do they all have to make it?

‘I’m sure you’re a really nice person,’ she told Harriet earnestly. ‘I’m sure you’re a great mum and everything. But Mum – Zoey – look,
she’s my
mum,
same as Richard’s my dad. I don’t want to upset you or anything, but I don’t think family’s about who you’re related to. It’s about
who you love, right? Mum and Richard have done an amazing job. It’s kind of cool to meet you, and it would be nice to meet your family one day, but Mum’s right. When you come down to
it, nothing’s really changed.’

‘I’m not trying to take your mum’s place,’ Harriet said quickly. ‘I don’t want to change anything. I just want to be part of your life, if you’ll let
me.’

‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Anything.’

‘What’s she like? Your daughter, I mean. I guess she’s sort of my twin, in a weird way. Does she look like Mum?’

‘Yes,’ Harriet said faintly. ‘Florence looks just like your Mum.’

‘Does she know?’

‘Not yet.’ Harriet hesitated. ‘My husband didn’t want to tell her. He thinks it’ll upset her too much.’

‘Well, I think you should. It’s kind of unfair if she’s the only one who doesn’t know.’ Nell shrugged. ‘Maybe I could talk to her, if it would help. After
all, we’re totally in the same boat. She might feel better if she knew somebody who understood what it feels like.’

For a long moment, Harriet didn’t speak. ‘You’re right, Nell,’ she said finally. ‘Your mum
has
done an amazing job. She must be so proud of you.’

‘So, OK then. What happens now?’

Harriet glanced nervously at her mother.

‘That rather depends on what you and Zoey want to do. Perhaps . . . perhaps you could come out for a visit. When your mum is ready,’ she added hastily. ‘I don’t mean to
rush you or anything.’

‘America? Wow. Cool.’

‘Nell, I’m not sure that’s going to be possible,’ Mum said carefully. ‘It’s very expensive, flying to the States, and there’s the shop to think
of—’

‘If it’s a question of money, I’m happy to help.’

‘I appreciate that, Harriet. I don’t want to be rude, but this has all happened so fast. I’m not sure any of us should be making any plans just yet. Not until we all know a
little bit more about where we are.’

Nell stood up. ‘Look, if it’s OK, I really need to chill for a bit. I’m kind of tired.’

‘Are you all right?’ Mum asked anxiously. ‘If you want to talk . . .’

She smiled. ‘It’s all right, Mum. I know where you are.’

She picked up her bag and took the stairs two at a time to her room. It was weird – you’d think she’d feel more bothered by this. Maybe it was because she’d never come
from a so-called ‘normal’ family in the first place. Richard wasn’t related to her, but she loved him just as much as she loved Mum. If this woman, Harriet, was her biological
mother, that was OK; it didn’t change how she felt about Mum. The only problem, as far as she could see, was how Mum was going to deal with this.

She lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling. She didn’t need more parents – she already had them; though it would be interesting to get to know Harriet and – what was his
name? – Oliver. Maybe she’d finally learn where she’d got her knack with plugs. But three brothers. Real brothers, not half-brothers.
Family.

Now
that
was cool.

Oliver couldn’t remember ever wanting to hit his wife before. He’d never hit a woman in his life, and he wasn’t about to start now. But two months ago
he’d never have thought he’d even feel the impulse, much less have to fight to suppress it. She’d pushed him closer to the edge than he’d believed possible, and for that
alone he could scarcely bear to be in the same room with her.

‘And you thought this would be OK?’ he repeated, his voice shaking with fury. ‘What the fuck did I ever say to make you think this would ever be
OK?’

‘But you don’t understand,’ Harriet protested. ‘It’s going to work out! It’s going to be fine! Isn’t that what you wanted?’

‘What I
wanted
was for you leave this alone. What I
wanted
was for you to listen to me. But what
I
wanted doesn’t seem to have come into it. All
that’s mattered to you is what
you’ve
wanted!’

‘That’s not true! Nell wants to come here, to meet you and the boys, she said so! She—’

‘Goddammit, Harriet! What about
Florence?
What about what
she
wants? How in Christ’s name am I going to go downstairs and tell her she’s not our daughter,
some strange girl on the other side of the world is? What d’you think that’s going to do to her? To our family?’ He swung towards her, his face inches from her own. ‘What in
hell made you go chasing off to London to find her? Who the fuck d’you think you
are?’

‘I’m Nell’s mother!’ Harriet cried.

‘You’re Florence’s mother first!’

They stared at each other, breathless with emotion. He felt as if he was looking at a complete stranger. His
wife
would never have done this. His wife would never have gone behind his
back, lied outright to him, broken every rule that had ever sustained their marriage. He didn’t know this woman. He didn’t
want
to know her.

‘What makes you think Florence isn’t strong enough to deal with this, Oliver?’ Harriet asked finally. ‘Nell was. Why would you think our daughter isn’t up to the
truth?’

‘How do you know if Nell was fine with it or not? You have no idea how she really feels, you barely
know
her! You appear out of nowhere, turn her life upside down, and then
disappear. How the hell would you know what’s really going on inside her head?’

‘She called me the day after I went round to Zoey’s. She wanted to meet me again. She wanted to know all about you and the boys.’

‘So, OK, maybe she
is
fine with it. So what? That doesn’t mean Florence will be!’ He shook his head angrily. ‘You say you love her, and yet you do this to her.
How could you, when you know how much it’s going to hurt her?’

‘Not if we handle it right! If we sit down and tell her together, make it clear nothing has to change, she’s still our daughter—’

‘What planet are you living on? You’re going to trade her in for a better model, and you think she’s going to be OK with that? What the hell is
wrong
with
you?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous! Of course Nell isn’t a better model!’

‘That’s how Florence will see it!’

‘I can’t just airbrush Nell away!’ Harriet cried in anguish. ‘You want me to pretend this never happened, but every time I look at Florence, I see Nell! I don’t
want this huge, awful lie between us. I can barely look my daughter in the eye!’ She started to cry again. ‘I know you think I should’ve waited, but it wasn’t just about
Nell. It was about Florence, too. I need things to be normal with her again. Please, Oliver. Can’t you
try
to understand?’

Despite his anger, the raw pain in his wife’s eyes moved him. For a moment, he tried to put himself in her shoes. As far as he was concerned, Florence was his daughter; somehow, he’d
managed to bury whatever feelings he might have had for Nell, the child he’d lost, and forced himself to think only of Florence. Perhaps it had simply been too much to ask Harriet to do the
same. She’d carried Nell inside her for nine months, felt her baby move, nurtured her, given her life. Perhaps the bond between a mother and her child
was
different: a primal,
biological tie that he didn’t and could never understand.

He tried not to listen to the voice inside his head that told him Harriet had brought all this on herself. She’d sent off those toothbrushes for DNA tests, she’d contacted the
hospital in London, she’d got on a plane and flown four thousand miles across the ocean, all without telling him. How was he ever supposed to trust her again?

No. He’d known her for sixteen years, and she’d never let him down before. Surely she’d never have gone behind his back like this if she hadn’t been desperate?

And what about that night with Ben?
the voice whispered.
What’s her excuse for that?

‘You keep saying you’re trying to protect Florence,’ Harriet said quietly, her hand on his sleeve. ‘Are you sure it’s not yourself you’re trying to
protect?’

He hesitated. Deep down, he knew she had a point. He’d fought so hard to make this go away because he couldn’t bear to face it. But fighting with Harriet wasn’t going to help
Florence get through this.

‘Whatever happens, we’re in this together,’ he said wearily. Awkwardly, he put his arms around her, tightening his hold as he tucked her head beneath his chin.
‘You’re my wife, and I love you. What matters now is holding this family together. We can’t fight about this any more. We have to be on the same page, Harriet.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered into his chest.

‘I know you are. I’m sorry too.’

After a long moment, she freed herself and pulled her phone from her pocket. Wiping away her tears, she tabbed through it and handed it to him.

He stared at the picture. A smiling teenage girl with Harriet’s neat, dark hair and delicate features gazed back at him. He could see Sam in her, and George; he could see himself. So this
was Nell. The daughter he and Harriet had made together, a part of both of them.

He handed the phone back to Harriet. He didn’t know what he felt. The girl in the photo was a total stranger, and yet he felt a pull towards her he couldn’t explain.

‘We’ll tell Florence together,’ he said.