and cite universities that you never went to,’ says Kate. ‘That’s fraud.’
‘How did you know to go to Bournemouth University?’ asks Jess.
‘Because I’m a journalist,’ says Kate. ‘When I smell a rat, I tend to follow its trail.’
‘And what did you find?’ asks Jess.
‘Let’s just say you’re leaving plenty of victims in your wake. Us, your employers . . . we’re all being fed a pack of lies.’
‘I just wanted the chance of a new life.’
‘I don’t know why you would have lied,’ says Lauren. ‘What difference do you think it would have made to us . . . to me?’
‘I wanted you to like me. I thought that if I told you the truth, you wouldn’t think I was good enough. You’ve both got such amazing lives – your jobs, husbands, children – your worlds are perfect. It was going to be hard enough to endear myself to you as it was, without the added stigma of a foster-care background and the most basic of schooling. I wanted you to think I was as personable and educated as you – not from the wrong side of the tracks.’
There’s a tension in Lauren’s neck that’s working its way up into her head, setting every muscle alight. She can’t believe that just an hour ago she was lying in Justin’s arms, thinking the only problem she had was wondering how she was going to keep away from the only man she’d ever loved. Back then, even that had seemed insurmountable, but how she wished now that it was her only problem.
‘Look, it’s late,’ says Lauren, holding her hands up in defeat. ‘I think we should take some time out.’
‘But what happens now?’ asks Jess forlornly. ‘Now you know the truth.’
‘Nothing’s changed,’ says Lauren softly, taking a stray piece of hair and tucking it behind Jess’s ear, like only a mother would.
‘But will you still help me find my mother? She might still be out there.’
Lauren can feel Kate bristling beside her. ‘I’ll do everything I can to help you, but right now I need to speak to Kate.’
Jess looks at her, wide-eyed. ‘Will you call me in the morning?’ she asks, almost inaudibly.
‘Yes,’ says Lauren.
‘Promise,’ asks Jess, sounding like a little girl.
Lauren’s heart feels like it might break. ‘I promise.’
39
Kate
‘So, where were you tonight?’ asks Kate. They may not be as close as they used to be, but Kate knows her sister well enough to know when she’s lying.
Lauren goes into the kitchen and comes back with a glass of water for Kate and a half-drunk bottle of red wine. She pours herself a generous glass and slumps down on the sofa.
Kate looks at her. ‘Lauren, I know you. There’s no way you would have left the children with a virtual stranger unless it was an emergency. So what were you doing?’ She raises her eyebrows, waiting for an answer.
Lauren takes a large glug of wine. ‘I need you to tell me exactly what Mum said,’ she says. ‘About me, about the pregnancy . . . because I just don’t understand why that would come up now.’
Kate looks at her, unable to believe that Lauren could have carried such a heavy secret around with her for so long. ‘And I don’t understand how you could have kept that to yourself for all this time.’
‘It’s been hard,’ says Lauren, ‘my biggest regret. But having my three has helped me come to terms with it.’
‘So Mum and Dad were against you keeping it?’
‘Dad certainly was, and Mum too, apparently.’
‘How do you mean?’
Lauren drains her glass before answering. ‘It doesn’t matter – that’s a conversation for another time.’
‘Did you talk to Dad about how you felt?’ asks Kate. ‘Did you tell him you wanted to keep it.’
‘I tried, and he tried to listen.’ Lauren laughs scornfully. ‘And for a while, I really thought he was getting it. He was shocked, of course – we all were, but he told me that although it wasn’t what he had wanted or planned for me, once I’d thought about the consequences, he’d support my decision.’
‘So what changed?’ asks Kate.
Lauren shrugs. ‘I honestly don’t know – I’ll never know. But all of a sudden, it went from being what felt like my decision, to me doing what he wanted with no questions asked.’
‘That doesn’t sound like Dad,’ offers Kate gently, noticing the tears that are forming in Lauren’s eyes. ‘He was reasonable, compassionate . . .’
Lauren snorts derisorily. ‘You and I had very different relationships with him.’