and takes a deep breath. And there, written in faded blue ink, are the numbers that are already indelibly etched on her mind
15/09/96
The date goes around and around in Kate’s head. She can hear it so clearly, as if each number is blaring out in stereo, shutting out the sound of the passing traffic and the heavy footsteps from the flat above.
The sudden heat is oppressive, holding her down, making her feel as if she can’t breathe. I need to get out of here, she says to herself as she gets up and stumbles towards the front door. She’s sure that she can feel a pain shoot across her stomach and she cradles it as she makes her way down the stairs.
Disorientated, she steps out onto the pavement, unable to remember how she got here, let alone where she parked the car. The young men, with their hoods up, eye her up and down as she falters, unsure of which way to go. She feels faint and needs to stop and take a breath, but her surroundings are unforgiving and bear no resemblance to how they looked on her way in. She walks a few metres before diving into an alleyway, the coolness of the shadows wrapping themselves around her, making her shiver.
She crouches down on bent knees, getting down low in case she passes out. It feels like she may go any second and she lets her head fall back onto the bare brick wall.
Breathe, just breathe, she says to herself, inhaling and exhaling as deeply as she can.
‘Hey lady,’ asks a hooded figure standing over her.
Fear seeps into her veins as she looks up at the face, concealed by a bandana.
The figure bears down on her and she flinches, waiting for whatever’s going to happen. A strong hand reaches under her arm, lifting her up onto her feet.
‘Bro,’ calls out the young man.
‘Please,’ says Kate. ‘I just . . .’
‘Where you going, lady?’
‘I . . . I just need to get to my car.’
‘Bro, hurry up,’ he calls up the alley again. ‘This lady needs some water.’
The boy supports her as she gingerly puts one foot in front of the other, telling her to take her time. Just before she reaches her car, another similarly dressed boy appears with a small bottle of water.
‘You sure you’re going to be all right?’ he says as Kate gets in.
She nods and smiles gratefully, feeling both relieved and guilty that she’d jumped to the wrong conclusion.
Though what she hadn’t been wrong about was that the hospital tag in the box she salvaged all those years ago was Jess’s. Usually, she’d feel a sense of satisfaction when proved right – after all, this is the proof she’s been waiting for, wanting even. Because this means that the box she’d held on to was worthy of the credence she’d given it, and not the disrespect Rose had showed it. As soon as she catches her breath, she thumbs through the contacts on her phone and connects the call to the loudspeaker in her car.
‘DS Labs,’ answers the woman at the other end of the line.
‘Hi, Nancy?’
‘Yes.’
‘It’s Kate from the Gazette. How’s things?’
‘Oh hi, Kate. Good. You?’
‘Not bad. Listen, I’ve got a personal favour to ask.’ She explains what she needs. ‘I need this super fast,’ says Kate.
‘It’ll be a couple of days at least,’ says Nancy.
‘If you can do it any quicker than that, I’d really appreciate it. I’ll make sure to put a good word in with the editor.’
‘No worries, I’ll see what I can do.’
Getting the DNA results back won’t explain what the hell Jess is playing at, but it will provide unequivocal proof that Harry isn’t her dad.
31
Lauren
A text lights up the bedroom.
Bleary-eyed, Lauren instinctively turns to see if Simon is asleep, before unplugging her phone and taking it into the bathroom.
It’s just gone midnight, but she’s not yet been able to sleep – her mind too busy working over the events of the day; her body too alert to what tomorrow may bring.
Are you still up? reads the text. She doesn’t know whether to respond or how – not yet having processed what’s happened and whether or not it changes anything between them. She doesn’t suppose it should, but still there’s a sense of uneasiness.
Yes, she eventually types, as she closes the lid of the toilet and sits down.