Page 16 of A Found Family at the Cornish Country Hospital

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Working shifts sometimes made it hard to see friends who weren’t in the same job and who didn’t understand that planning something on the weekend didn’t automatically mean everyone would be able to make it. Isla had a group of friends from secondary school who she was still close to. They met up at least once a month, and she tried to ensure she made the get-togethers, even if she ended up having to try and swap a shift. This time around, they were in a country pub about six miles inland from Port Kara, and Isla really wanted to talk to her friends about her plans to donate her eggs. It wasn’t that she was doubting her choice, but telling five of her friends would be a good rehearsal for talking to her mum and Lexi. There was no doubting they’d have questions, just as her mother and sister would, and it would be a good opportunity to work through her response to any concerns they might have. The trouble was, Cleo had been holding court for the last thirty minutes about her plans to join an environmental protest group, and stating categorically that the best thing women of their generation could do was to refuse to continue over-populating the planet, andremain childless. It hardly provided the perfect segue for Isla to open up about her plans.

‘You’re very quiet tonight, is everything okay?’ Phoebe had been Isla’s best friend at school, from the day in Year Nine when she’d deliberately fallen over to deflect from the fact that Isla had come out of the loos with her skirt tucked into the back of her tights. She’d even managed the impressive trick of yanking Isla’s skirt downwards, before hitting the ground, to cover the granny-sized knickers her friend had been wearing. Phoebe had been prepared to be laughed at for supposedly tripping over her own feet, just to save Isla embarrassment. So, if there was anyone she could tell about her plans, it was the girl who’d earned herself the nickname Phoebe Faceplant.

‘Just a lot on my mind.’ Isla tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, as they stood side by side in the pub toilets, facing the mirrors.

‘It must have been tough having your dad’s big birthday.’

‘Thanks for remembering, but it’s not that.’ Phoebe had been at university in Brighton when Isla’s father had died, but she’d come back as soon as she’d heard the news and had stayed on until after the funeral to support her friend. It had meant a lot to Isla, who’d stayed close to home to study at the Truro School of Nursing, because of her father’s failing health. She hadn’t had the kind of carefree university experience of most people her age and she knew it must have been hard for Phoebe to come away from that and be there for her grief-stricken friend, but it was something she’d never forget.

‘Are you going to tell me what it is then?’ Phoebe was still watching her in the mirror, and Isla breathed out.

‘I haven’t even told Mum and Lexi about this yet, but I’ve decided to become an egg donor.’ Turning to look at Phoebe, she scanned her face for the inevitableare-you-mad?look that she fully expected to see. But she was smiling.

‘That’s amazing, your dad would be so proud of you.’ Phoebe hugged her. She was one of the few people Isla had told about her parents’ decision to use a sperm donor. It meant she really understood the significance of what Isla was planning, and she was still smiling as they pulled away from one another. ‘Oh my God, will you get to find out if a baby has been born as a result? How awesome will it be to know you’ve done that!’

‘It would be amazing and I’m pretty sure they tell you if anyone’s treatment has been a success, as a result of your donation, because the child can access your details when they’re older, if they want to. But it’s going to be different for me, anyway. I’m donating the eggs to my friend Aidan from work, and his husband, Jase.’

‘Oh Isla, that’s incredible.’

‘You don’t think I’m mad, and opening up my life to a world of complications I don’t need?’ She’d expected her friends to ask whether she’d really thought about the possible long-term consequences, and she was pretty sure her mother and sister would challenge her on that, but Phoebe was shaking her head.

‘Life is full of complications, and I know you’d never have done this without being certain your friend and his husband will make great parents.’

‘They’ll be the best.’

‘That’s all that matters then.’ Phoebe linked an arm through hers. ‘But if you need to feel as if you’re getting the third degree, we could always tell Cleo. I’m sure she’ll be willing to lecture you about how you’re single-handedly responsible for climate change. She certainly made me feel that way when I drove her over here. The only thing that shut her up, was me telling her I could always drop her off at the bus stop if she felt that strongly about me owning a car.’

‘Tempting as a lecture from Cleo is, I think I’ll keep it to myself for now.’ Isla pulled a face. ‘But I’m really glad I told you,and I just hope Mum and Lexi are half as positive about it when I break the news to them.’

‘If they aren’t, it’ll only be because they’re worried about you.’ Phoebe hugged her again, and she felt some of the tension drain out of her body. Not everyone was going to react to her decision as positively as Phoebe had, but she was more certain about it now than ever. And she couldn’t imagine anything stopping her from going through with it.

Isla was jigging up and down on the spot, as if she was desperate for a wee, while she waited for the FaceTime call to connect. But the only thing she was desperate for, was to get the next ten minutes over and done with.

‘Hello, Mum? Are you there?’ All Isla could make out was a black screen and some muffled voices.

‘Sorry, I dropped the phone; your sister nearly wiped us both out by turning too quickly with her giant baby bump.’ Isla’s mum was grinning when she finally appeared on screen, but Lexi, who was sitting next to her, looked far less amused.

‘You try squeezing into a tight space on a sofa with two babies and a paddling pool worth of water strapped to the front of you. I took out three trays of doughnuts in Walmart yesterday, just turning to reach for the trolley. I can’t keep doing this for much longer.’

‘How many weeks are you now?’ Isla still couldn’t believe her sister was going to become a mum while they were living so far apart, but it sounded like it couldn’t come a moment too soon for Lexi.

‘Twenty-eight and they want me to try and get to thirty-six, but it’s already so uncomfortable and I’m hardly getting any sleep.’

‘I hope you’re not expecting that to change when they arrive.’ Their mother laughed. ‘Neither of you two slept all through the night until you were about three. Your dad always used to joke that you didn’t get that from me, and that I could sleep standing up, given half the chance.’

It had been a running joke in the family that Clare didn’t need a bed to get a good night’s sleep. She hadn’t even noticed when the airbed she and her husband had been sleeping on had deflated overnight and left them lying on the ground, when they’d all gone camping one summer. Isla’s dad had teased her mum about losing count of the number of times he’d started a conversation, when they’d climbed into bed, only to realise she was already asleep by the time her head hit the pillow. It was an ability Isla had always been quite envious of, but she and Lexi had both suffered from bouts of insomnia since their teens, as well as being difficult to settle as children. Whether it was hereditary she had no idea, but any kind of traits they had, which weren’t shared with their mum, might well have come from their biological father. He was never mentioned and, somewhere along the line, it was almost as though their parents had forgotten the sperm donor’s role in their daughters’ conception. Her mother had told Isla once how keen they’d been to make sure the girls had the same donor, to limit any differences there might be between them. Yet despite their shared DNA, Lexi and Isla had still ended up being very different people in many respects. And every time she spoke to her sister, Lexi seemed more and more at home in the US. Any hint of a Cornish accent she’d had was gone, and in its place Isla could already hear the beginnings of a slight Southern twang in her sister’s tone.

‘You don’t look like you’ve been sleeping either.’ Lexi peered at the screen. ‘And you’re doing that blinking thing you always do when you’re worried about something.’

‘Why do you always say that?’ Isla tried to keep her tone breezy, but her sister knew her far too well.

‘Because it started when my best top went missing, and you swore you hadn’t seen it, but then you started blinking like crazy and I knew straight away you were lying.’ Lexi narrowed her eyes. ‘It happens every time you’re trying to hide something. Just don’t ever take up playing poker, because you’ll be rubbish at it.’

For a moment, Isla considered telling Lexi that she was the one talking rubbish, but putting off the conversation any longer wasn’t going to change what her mother and sister thought about it.

‘There’s nothing wrong is there, sweetheart?’ Clare suddenly looked so worried, and Isla couldn’t hold out any longer. Her mother had already been through so much, and the prospect of something bad happening to one of her daughters was her greatest fear. When they’d left home, she’d begged them to text when they got back to their own places after an evening out, no matter how late it was. And she still nagged them both to make doctor’s appointments for the smallest complaints, because ‘there’s no telling where it could lead.’

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