Sister Sister(77)

A noise behind me makes me jump. I spin round and let out a small scream of surprise. Standing in the doorway is the neighbour, who I now know as Mrs Karvowski.

‘Found what you’re looking for?’ she asks.

‘I was … I …’ I don’t know what to say.

‘I could call the cops,’ she says.

I nod, but somehow I don’t think she will. I decide straight-talking is in order. ‘I just wanted to feel close to Alice,’ I say. ‘The thing is, I wasn’t quite truthful when I said I was her cousin.’

‘I didn’t think you were being honest with me.’

‘I’m actually her sister. We were separated when we were young children and I haven’t seen her since she was four years old.’

‘Didn’t have you down as cousins,’ she says, tipping her head to one side and appraising me.

‘I spoke to Roma Kendrick. I’m meeting her tomorrow.’

‘She’s a good woman,’ says Mrs Karvowski. ‘You’d think Alice was her own child. You’d never have thought she was her stepmother. She was even good to Alice’s friend. Not that she deserved it.’

‘Martha?’ But Mrs Karvowski is already turning and walking back down to the kitchen.

‘Make sure you lock up when you’re done and put the key back where you found it.’

After leaving the house, I find myself driving down to the beach and I pull up in a small parking area. With what seems an unconscious decision, I find myself climbing up the wooden steps ahead of me which lead out onto the beach.

The Atlantic breeze whips my hair around my face and I delve inside my handbag, successfully locating one of Hannah’s hair bands, which I use to tie my hair back. I slip my shoes off and feel the sandy granules between my toes as I walk down towards the water, coming to a halt as the waves crash in front of me and run up to cover my feet, before racing back out again.

I take a few minutes to let my mind free itself from the tangle of thoughts. I need to stop thinking, just for a while. I breathe in deeply, enjoying the fresh air that fills my lungs. It’s certainly a beautiful place and the rhythmic crash and rumble of the waves have a calming effect.

The sound of a little girl laughing brings me back from my empty thoughts. I turn and watch her run along the beach, chasing the family pet, her parents walking hand in hand behind her. It makes me think of Hannah and Chloe and I have a sudden pang of homesickness, coupled with a yearning to get back to not just the UK but to how we were as a family before Alice came home. Somehow, I fear that will never be the same, regardless of what I find out here.

I feel tired and all I want to do is get back to my motel room and get some sleep. Reluctantly, I turn and head back towards my car, leaving the sanctuary of the beach behind me.

Despite my body telling me how tired I am, my brain doesn’t want to co-operate. I manage just a couple of hours at a time before I wake and when I try to go back to sleep, thoughts of how my meeting with Roma might go fill my mind.

When morning finally breaks I’m relieved the night is over.

Arriving in Jacksonville, I find the coffee shop in the parade of retail outlets and park outside under a tree.

I realise that I don’t actually know what Roma looks like. I stand in the doorway checking the tables for a woman on her own. A tall, well-dressed woman in a blue blouse and white trousers stands up and makes eye contact. She waves me over and I thread my way through the tables.

‘Roma Kendrick?’ I ask, as I reach the table.

She holds out her hand. ‘Clare, I presume.’ I shake her hand and she smiles warmly at me. ‘Please, Clare, do sit down. Tea or coffee?’

‘Coffee, please.’

Roma signals to the waitress, who arrives in a matter of seconds with a coffee pot. Once she’s filled my cup and I’ve added some warm milk from the table, I take a sip and then sit back and look at Roma.

‘Thank you for meeting me,’ I say.

‘I’m not entirely comfortable with us meeting, I must admit. I feel, somehow, I’m going behind Alice’s back. I wish she were here too.’

‘Yes, so do I,’ I say. ‘When did you last see her?’

‘Quite a few months ago now. We had coffee here, actually. I gave her the address for her mother in England.’

‘And she seemed fine then?’

‘Yes. She was so happy to have that address. I hadn’t been able to give it to her before, not with her father alive. He wouldn’t have liked it. Don’t get me wrong. Patrick was a good man and loved Alice dearly but he refused to talk about England and Alice’s mother. Who I assume is your mother too.’

‘Marion. Yes, that’s right.’