‘I’ll bring it over,’ he says, waving her away with one hand. ‘You make yourself comfortable,bella.’
She chooses a table in the corner at the back and fiddles with the sugar sachets while waiting for Jas. Nineteen eighties rock emerges from a tinny wireless propped up behind the till. Jas told her she was ‘short, blonde hair and Black. You can’t miss me’.
She was right. When Jas walks in, the cafe bell tinkling as she opens the door, she is immediately recognisable: a small, compact woman with delicate features and a peroxide buzzcut. She is wearing an oversized camouflage jacket and when she turns to close the door behind her, Kate sees the word ‘Warrior’ on the back, spelled out in sequins.
‘Hey Tony,’ Jas says to the man behind the counter, whose face breaks into a broad grin when he sees her. ‘I’ll have my usual. Thanks, man.’
She comes over to the table, shrugging off her jacket and placing it on the back of the chair.
‘Kate, yeah?’
‘Yes.’ Kate stands up and thrusts out her hand which seems, immediately, overly formal. Jas shakes it with a wry, assessing look. Kate notices her nails are long and painted neon pink. The outer edge of her left ear is studded all the way up the cartilage with gold hoop earrings of diminishing size. Kate is briefly surprised that Marisa is friends with someone so cool and then she admonishes herself instantly for her surprise, always wary of her own insidious prejudice or judgement. Why shouldn’t they have been friends?
Tony brings their drinks over, in slightly grubby white cups accompanied by one individually wrapped thin ginger biscuit on each saucer.
‘So,’ Jas says. Her nails clack against the handle when she holds it. ‘Why don’t you tell me what’s been going on?’
‘First off, let me show you I am who I say I am,’ Kate says, sliding an envelope across the table. It contains the surrogacy agreement, a recent utility bill, a scan of hers and Jake’s passports and some photos of the two of them together. She has also brought the baby scan, but has kept it in her wallet. She isn’t sure why.
Jas leafs through the documents and nods, satisfied.
‘I also wanted to bring you this.’ Kate hands over Marisa’s diary. Jas flicks through it, then looks up.
‘What is this?’
‘It’s Marisa’s diary or notebook or something. I found it in her room. She’s been inventing this … this …storyabout how she and Jake are lovers and she’s expecting his baby, but—’
Kate breaks off, embarrassed by how it sounds.
Jas speaks calmly.
‘But it’s not her baby,’ Jas says. ‘It’s yours.’
‘Yes,’ Kate says, relieved. ‘Yes, that’s it exactly.’
‘Oh wow, I’m sorry.’
She passes Kate some napkins from the dispenser and Kate presses them to her face, mopping up the tears. She takes a few breaths and then, having collected herself, she tells Jas everything: how they met Marisa, her increasingly odd behaviour, the scene in the hallway and the discovery of her drugs prescription. Jas doesn’t seem fazed by any of it.
‘So where is she now?’
‘Um, in the countryside,’ Kate says. ‘With Jake and his parents. We thought it was best she got away from me and had time to … recuperate. Jake’s dad is a GP – well, a retired one, so he’s looking after her.’
‘You need to get her back on her meds as quick as you can,’ Jas says. ‘I’ve seen what happens when Ris forgets to take them and it’s not pretty.’
Kate stops in her tracks.
‘Wait, so this … has happened before?’
Jas signals to Tony for another round of coffees.
‘We’re going to be here for a while.’ Jas leans back in her chair, clasping her hands in front of her chest. ‘The first thing you need to know about Ris is that she’s a mistress of her own reinvention. She tells her own story, the way that she likes to believe it. You can’t trust anything she says. A-ny-thing,’ Jas says, drawing out the syllables for emphasis. ‘I love the girl, but she’s damaged. Probably the most damaged person I’ve ever met, to be honest with you. That stuff about her parents she told you? It’s bullshit. Excuse my language. Her mum abandoned her when she was seven years old and she doesn’t talk to her dad any more. She hasn’t seen her sister in over twenty years.’
‘What about the miscarriages?’ Kate asks, because this key detail seems of overwhelming importance. It was why they had trusted her.
‘I don’t know,’ Jas answers. ‘She never told me anything like that. Most of the time, when she’s on her meds, she’s fine. But she’s got serious mental health issues.’
‘Like what?’
