“No. I’m good, honestly.” This time I don’t find myself getting defensive because truthfully, she’s right to be worried. In fact, I’m glad she’s checking in on me. I fumble for my keys as Penny steps around me and pushes open the front door.
“Okay, well I have to get back to— Mum, it’s open. Did you forget to lock it?”
I stand there staring at the door. “I… I don’t think so. Was it not closed properly?”
She shakes her head.
“I was in a rush, but… Has it been forced, do you think?”
She inspects the lock and then shrugs. “I don’t think so.”
Her eyes turn to me, and they’re filled with pity.
After a search of the house, to check nobody’s inside and nothing has been taken, Penny pulls me into a big hug.
“Do you want me to stay, Mum?” Penny asks.
“No, love. You have work.”
“I don’t mind.”
I shake my head. “I doubt anyone was here. I bet I left it slightly ajar. Sorry.”
She rubs my shoulder. “Hey. That’s okay.”
I gaze into my daughter’s grey eyes and consider telling her everything. From finding Rachel and Dina to working out that I have a twin. But where to start? She has kind eyes. Even as a baby they were filled with warmth. And yet I can’t bring myself to say the words. Telling her I have a twin will seem very out of the blue and I don’t want her to think I’m crazy. I don’t want her to give me that pitiful expression again like she did with the photograph. But most of all I don’t want to worry her.
“I’m tired,” I say. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived, but I’ve had a busy morning and don’t feel up to chatting. You get off. I’ll lock the door behind me, and I’ll be completely fine.”
“Mum—”
I hold up my hands. “I mean it. Honestly, I just need peace and quiet.”
“All right,” she says reluctantly. “But I’m leaving my phone on tonight. If you need me, at any time, call me. Even if it’s three in the morning. Promise?”
“I promise.”
She hugs me tightly at the door. It’s the kind of embrace that has a tinge of desperation to it, held longer, squeezing tighter. Then she’s gone, and I lock the door behind her. As soon as I hear her car crunching over the gravel driveway, I get out my phone and call Alistair. He is the only person who will understand what happened with Rachel today.
He arrives just after five. We open a bottle of wine and head into the lounge to relax. Alistair’s fingers knead my shoulders as I tell him everything that happened today.
“She called you Claire?” Alistair asks. “That’s new.” He pours himself a second glass of Merlot.
“And she said there were two babies.”
He shakes his head, speechless, and pushes the bottle across the coffee table to me, but I don’t pick it up. I’ve had one glass and that is enough. Any more and I might start feeling fuzzy again. After everything that has happened today, I want to make sure I’m clear headed.
“I have a theory, and I want to run it by you.” I say.
“Go on,” Alistair replies.
“Rachel reached out to my parents through the adoption agency. Mum kept Rachel’s details in that envelope to give to me. But after I found out about the adoption, I didn’t want to know my birth mother so they ended up staying sealed. Rachel probably reached out to Claire’s family too. Claire responded. That’s how Rachel knows her name but not mine. She actually met up with Claire.”
“That makes sense,” Alistair says.
“But the problem is, I don’t have a last name,” I say. “Just Claire and the fact she was adopted in 1974.”
“I guess Googling won’t hurt,” he says.
