Page 109 of The Missing Sister
‘She just does,’ Ally shrugged. ‘In Granada, just before Bear was born, she told me things about Theo and this necklace he’d given me that she couldn’t possibly have known about. She... she said she saw him standing there. I...’ Tears pricked Ally’s eyes. ‘It was a very special moment. Our little sister has a unique gift.’
‘Coming from you, Ally, who is always sceptical of anything you can’t work out logically, that’s saying a lot. Let’s see what she’s decided to do when she calls back.’
The sound of a text pinging through on Ally’s mobile made her look down.
Hi, Ally, Jack from Provence/NZ here. Just checking you got back to Geneva safely. It was so great to meet you. Keep in touch and maybe we can get together in Europe before I fly home. Jack.
At the end of the text was one kiss. The sight of it made Ally’s stomach flip suddenly.
‘Who’s that from?’ Maia enquired.
‘Jack, Merry’s son.’
‘Really? From your expression, you two obviously got on well.’
‘I had to get on with him, didn’t I? I had to pump him for information on his mum. I’m going upstairs to see if Bear’s awake yet.’
Maia watched her sister walk out of the kitchen, then smiled. ‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks,’ she quoted from Shakespeare’sHamlet.
Later that evening, just as Ally was getting into bed, there was a knock on her bedroom door and Maia appeared.
‘Tiggy’s said she’ll go. She’s looking to get on an afternoon flight to Dublin tomorrow. It’s less than two hours from Aberdeen.’
‘Right. Great. Well, let’s hope Merry won’t have disappeared again by then, and Tiggy can get a chance to explain.’
‘As Tiggy put it, “I doubt she’ll have gone far.” Anyway, I just thought I’d tell you.’
‘I’m so glad she’s going. If she does meet Merry, at least she can set the record straight.’
‘Yes. Sleep well, Ally.’
‘And you.’
Once the door had shut behind Maia, Ally lay back, suddenly feeling conflicted over Tiggy’s decision. Morally, it was the right thing to do, but of course it would mean Jack would eventually get to hear from his mother aboutherpart in the deception...
‘For God’s sake, Ally, you only knew him for less than forty-eight hours,’ she told herself firmly.
But still, she spent ages agonising over whether or what she should text back, and went to sleep thinking about that kiss at the end of his...
I woke up with the alarm, which I’d set for nine o’clock, and lay there feeling rested after the first proper night’s sleep I’d had since I’d left New Zealand. Perhaps it was partly to do with the fact that I was on ‘home territory’ – it felt comforting to be back in Ireland, which was ironic, given why I’d left Dublin all those years ago. Yet knowing that part of me belonged here, that I’d come from the very soil of this proud, unique and beautiful island, had made me emotional since the moment the aeroplane had touched down.
Jock had asked me time and again whether I wanted to visit my family in the ‘old country’, but I’d always refused. However much I missed them, I knew that they might let something slip to Jock about my hasty departure and, more importantly, because I had to protect them too. The truth was that I hadn’t spoken to a single member of my family for thirty-seven years.
Lies, lies, lies...
‘Enough is enough,’ I said out loud to yet another beautifully appointed and furnished hotel room. Just in case there was anyone lurking outside my door listening, I added, ‘I’m not afraid anymore!’
I reached over to dial room service and asked for a pot of tea and some biscuits. Biscuits for breakfast felt indulgent, especially the homemade ones that hotels like the Merrion provided, but why shouldn’t I indulge myself? I picked up one of the shiny leaflets that had been left by the phone to tempt me. I’d never been to a spa – every time I saw one in my mind, I imagined an ancient Roman bath full of ladies enjoying its restorative properties. I’d recently discovered the modern-day equivalent, which always seemed to be in the hotel basement, where long corridors opened onto treatment rooms filled with tinkling background music emanating from a discreetly hidden CD player. I flicked through the leaflets, wondering whether I would take the plunge and treat myself to one of the many massages on offer, but the menu was as varied and confusing as a Chinese takeaway.
A knock at my door caused my heart to immediately beat faster, but I took a deep breath and answered it. As a waiter greeted me, I thought that perhaps it was the lilting accent, along with the intrinsic Irish friendliness, that put me at ease. He came into the room to set up my breakfast on a small table, and asked me where I’d come from.
‘London.’
‘Would that be your home?’
‘No, I live in New Zealand.’
‘Do you now? Well, ’tis a long way you’ve travelled. I hope you enjoy your stay, Mrs McDougal.’
