Page 168 of The Missing Sister
Her greatest triumph so far was that her Scottish wildcats had managed to produce a healthy male kitten in April. She’d been tempted to pet it, but of course, she knew she mustn’t; if the cats were ever to be freed from the pen they currently lived in and released back into the wild, then any human contact was a no-no.
‘Perhaps I’ll ask Georg if I could have some money from Pa Salt’s trust to help us,’ she mused. At least it looked like Ulrika had decided against trying to snatch the Kinnaird estate, but she was still demanding a huge divorce settlement. When Charlie died, the estate would pass to Zara. Her stepdaughter-to-be was so passionate about it, and Tiggy thought how terrible it would be if the estate had to be broken up to pay for her mother’s taste in designer clothes.
‘All things do pass,’ Tiggy murmured as she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. Since her heart scare, and discovering the condition she would live with for the rest of her life, she’d become much more aware of her heartbeat. And it was definitely raised at the moment.
She’d felt something so strongly when she’d met Merry, she could hardly describe it. And her son Jack too... As for Mary-Kate, she’d meet her later tonight, but Tiggy was fairly certain she knew the answer already.
‘Am I right, Pa?’ she asked.
Yet again, there was no reply from him. Was it because he hadn’t settled there yet, or was it her own emotions crowding the usually clear line between heaven and earth? There was always silence when she asked her father for help; like a void, as if he wasn’t there...
‘Maybe one day you’ll speak to me, Pa,’ she sighed, before turning to one of her other relatives who had passed on. She thought about the question she needed the answer to, then asked it.
‘Yes,’ came the reply. ‘Yes.’
Jack had spent the evening in his room at the hotel, jotting down notes on all he had learnt so far. He liked order, not chaos, and this situation with his mum and sister was unsettling him. How could it be possible that two worlds, which both included the Seven Sisters in one way or another, had collided? Or was it just coincidence...?
Tiggy had said coincidence didn’t exist. He wasn’t so sure.
Shared interests, he’d written in his notebook.
Did Mum once know the sisters’ father?he wrote(which would explain shared interests).
Ambrose?
Father O’Brien?
Proof? The ring. (Is this enough?)
Ally: why do I keep thinking about her?
‘Yes,’ he said out loud, ‘why do I? I mean, I must be... Damn!’ Jack threw the notebook down on the bed in frustration. He was glad Mary-Kate was arriving soon, because he sure needed somebody to talk to about all this.
‘Why is Mum so scared?’ he asked the wide-screen television on the wall.
Surprisingly, it didn’t answer.
‘Time for a beer and some grub, Jack,’ he said as he rolled off the bed, put on his trainers, and headed downstairs to the bar.
Just as he was ordering, a text message pinged on his phone.
On the 10 pm flight to Dublin. I’ll get a taxi to the Merrion Hotel. C u soon, bro. MK xx
Sitting at the bar having a beer, he listened to the hum of Irish voices and wondered if this small island made up any part of his genes. If the DNA ran through his mother, it must run through him too. But given she’d just found out she was adopted, who was to know?
Ah, I miss you, Dad, he thought,you were always the voice of reason, and boy, do I need that right now...
Seeing it was past nine o’clock, he went to reception and asked them to call his mother’s room to see if she wanted to join him for something to eat while they waited for Mary-Kate to arrive.
‘I’m sorry, sir, but Mrs McDougal still has her room phone on “do not disturb”,’ said the receptionist.
‘Right, okay, thanks.’ Jack wandered away from the desk, wondering if he should go upstairs and knock on her door.
Deciding to leave her be – she’d looked so very pale earlier – he wandered into the restaurant and saw Tiggy sitting alone at a table.
‘Hi,’ he said.
‘Hello there, Jack,’ she replied, smiling her sweet smile. ‘Want to join me? I was just about to order something for supper.’
