‘That may be something that we’ll never find out,’ said Cam as he sifted through the rest of the photographs on the table.
‘I do know that my mum spent some time on the streets.’ Bree wiped a tear with the back of her hand. ‘It was only when I was older that she shared that with me. I was a little taken aback because even though we didn’t have money for extravagant things she was a hard worker – kind, caring and loyal – and I couldn’t see how that could possibly happen. Of course, I didn’t know the circumstances as that was something she never shared with me, but maybe she would have at some point in the future.’
Bree placed the photographs down on the table. ‘It was good to see her today.’ She looked at the TV screen before standing up, walking towards the windows and pulling back the curtain. Molly knew exactly what she was doing. She was searching for the moon.
‘Mum loved the moon. She said it guided her when times had been tough and if there was a time we were never together, then if I looked at the moon she would be looking at it too. In the whole of our lifetime together we’d never spent a night apart until she…’
Bree didn’t finish her sentence and sat back down. ‘When did you realise that my mum was the same Lilian Allen that worked and lived here?’
‘When Cam took the chocolate slab to Dixie earlier today, she instantly recognised the Layers Treats. That recipe was one Ted and your mum used to bake together.’
‘And there was something about those words you said to Molly – “loon moon”,’ Cam added, standing up. ‘I’m just going to get myself a beer.’
Bree watched Cam walk out of the door. ‘What does Cam mean?’
‘When you said those words I had a flashback to maybe the only thing that I remember my own biological mother ever saying to me. For a few hours I even considered it might be possible that we could have the same mother. I know it sounds daft but I went up to the church to find out your mother’s name. The vicar told me – and I hope you don’t think he was talking out of turn – that your mum asked to be buried at Heartcross and it made me wonder about her ties to this place.’
‘She did,’ replied Bree. ‘That’s how I ended up sleeping rough in these parts. I just wanted to be close to her.’
‘Do you know why she asked to be buried here?’ asked Molly.
‘The letter stated that she wanted to be buried here because once you arrive in Heartcross you never want to leave. And I suppose after what you’ve just said about Mum working here, she probably wanted to be buried here because this was the place she felt was home. But I don’t think it was daft that you thought we had the same mother, because I also got a strange feeling the first moment I saw you outside the shelter. It just felt like I knew you from somewhere. There was something familiar about you that I just couldn’t shake off,’ she said, picking up her drink from the table and taking a sip.
‘You did?’ quizzed Molly.
‘I suppose the connection is this place,’ added Bree. ‘Maybe the universe crossed our paths because my mum had a connection to this place. Who knows.’ She shrugged.
‘I was convinced there was some sort of connection but I dug out my birth certificate – my adoptive parents had stored it away in a suitcase full of documents – and the name wasn’t the same.’
‘Had curiosity never got the better of you before?’ asked Dixie.
‘Not until I bumped into Bree. I’m not sure what I’m going to do with my findings but that’s a thought for another day. At least after seeing it I now know that my adoptive parents kept my Christian name and my surname was changed from Williams to McKendrick. My mother’s name was Bethan Williams.’
The glass of water that Bree was holding slipped out of her hand and bounced on the carpet. She was staring straight at Molly. ‘Sorry … sorry, but say that again.’ Bree’s face had paled.
‘My mother’s name was Bethan Williams. What is it, Bree? Do you recognise that name?’
Bree managed a nod and stuttered, ‘My bag, where’s my bag?’
‘In the hallway.’
Molly and Dixie exchanged glances as Bree disappeared and returned holding her bag. After rummaging inside she pulled out a plastic bag, which held a crumpled, dirty envelope that looked like it had been through the war. She handed it over to Molly.
‘What’s this?’ asked Molly, taking the envelope from her and straightening it out. With a thumping heart she looked at the bold lettering in black biro on the front of the envelope, which read ‘MOLLY WILLIAMS’. ‘I don’t understand,’ Molly said, confused.
‘Lilian Allen – my mum – was also known as Bethan Williams. I found this letter in her things after she passed away.’
Molly’s jaw dropped wide open. She couldn’t think straight. Stammering, she asked, ‘Did you know your mum had another child?’
Bree nodded. ‘I did. Mum told me that she changed her name to escape an abusive relationship and that I had a sister somewhere out there. I’ve carried this letter around with me every day since I was made homeless. I’ve kept it in a plastic bag in the lining of my bag, hoping I’d find my sister one day.’
‘Oh my God’ were the only words that Molly could manage.
‘Does this mean you really are my sister?’ asked Bree.
‘Well, I never,’ exclaimed Dixie, who was sitting in the edge of her seat. ‘Come on, open it up. What does it say?’
Just at that moment, Cam walked back into the room with a beer in his hand. ‘What have I missed?’ he said cheerfully, sitting down and taking a huge swig from the bottle.
