Blood Loss by Kerena Swan (brene brown rising strong .txt) 📗

for the letter I’ve just spotted. It’s addressed to me and I can’t rip it open fast enough. My chest lurches with excitement when I see it’s from John, my so-called dad.

Dear Sarah,

It was good to hear from you after all these years. A letter is as rare as a gourmet meal in this place. How are you and how’s your mum?

Why the sudden desire for a DNA test? Has your mum finally confessed to cheating on me? You were right when you said in your letter that I’ve always questioned whether I’m your father and I agree it would be good to know once and for all. Things might have been different if I’d done this years ago but it wasn’t heard of then – well, not in my circles, anyway.

You say I can do a cheek swab. The only snag is I don’t have any money and I’m told the kits cost about £99. So, if you organise and pay for it then send the kit to the governor of the prison (he’s the one who oversees the process), I’ll willingly do it for you.

Let’s see what happens but either way I want you to know that I’ve had a lot of time to reflect in here and I wish things could have been different. I’m sorry for the way I treated you and your mum. I see now that I let the jealousy eat into my brain. I’m half-hoping you’re not mine to prove I was right to be suspicious, but I’m half-hoping you are mine and that you’ll keep writing to me.

Let me know as soon as you get the results.

Yours,

Dad

I don’t know what to think and want to keep re-reading the letter to make sense of my emotions but I’m running late for work at the kebab shop. I stuff it in my bag and rush out of the door, not bothering to say goodbye to Mum. She’ll still be asleep in bed at this time of the morning.

It’s chilly outside despite the thin sunlight and I regret not wearing a warmer jacket. As I reach the kebab shop, Nikos, the owner is waiting for me by the door. Inside, the air is warm and heavy with the stink of fatty meat and chips. I can almost taste it and imagine it seeping into my clothes only to linger and waft out again later.

‘Clean the front of the shop and scrub the grill, then prepare the kebab skewers and salads,’ Nikos instructs. He locks the front door behind me and hangs the key on a nail. ‘I’ll be back in time to serve lunches.’

‘Can I get paid today? I need money and I’ve done five days’ work for you.’

‘Pay is weekly.’

‘Just this once? I need it urgently.’

‘No. You kids are all the same, can’t wait for anything. What’s it for? Some of that weed stuff? Bottles of gin?’

‘Nothing like that.’ I fetch the broom and mop bucket from the cupboard. ‘Not to worry. I’ll sort something else out.’

I don’t want to annoy him. The other worker didn’t turn up yesterday so Nikos has said I can carry on for the time being. I need to make myself indispensable.

Nikos goes out of the back door and leaves me to the cleaning and food prep. I sweep and mop in case he comes back, then sit and read my letter again. So, my old man has developed a conscience at last. Too bloody late, though. I almost laugh when I read again about him half-wanting us to be related. I certainly don’t, and, once I have the saliva sample and have relayed him the results, he won’t hear from me again. I shove the letter in my pocket and tie a stained apron around my waist before dragging trays of raw chicken breasts from the fridge.

Two hours later I open the front door to Mum’s house quietly, hoping she’s still in bed. I creep through to the kitchen and take her purse from the microwave. Stupid place to leave it. Burglars always look in fridges and microwaves. I rifle through her cards which are mostly loyalty ones until I come to her debit card. Perfect. I slip it into my back pocket and hear the toilet flush upstairs.

‘I’m off to the library,’ I call up the stairs. ‘See you later. I’ll fetch something for tea.’

I order the kit and pay for it with Mum’s card. I’ll give her some cash when Nikos pays me. I’m not a thief.

I’m happily choosing books for our housebound customers to be delivered later by volunteers when Mark walks in with a bunch of yellow tulips. I glance around with embarrassment but no one has noticed.

‘I’ve booked a table for eight o-clock tomorrow,’ he says. ‘I fancy trying that new Tapas place in the Xscape building before we see the film.’

He hasn’t asked me if I like Tapas. Have I attracted another man who doesn’t respect me and thinks he can control me? I won’t allow myself to be vulnerable this time. I’m the one in control, though Mark doesn’t know it. Yet. ‘Perfect,’ I say. ‘I’ll meet you there.’

His smile fades slightly. ‘I thought perhaps we could share a taxi then you could come back to mine for a coffee.’

Bloody hell. He doesn’t hang around. I’m keen to move this relationship on quickly because the idea of hiding at Mark’s place has grown on me, but it doesn’t pay to be too easy a conquest. Treat ‘em mean and all that.

‘I can’t come back to yours tomorrow night. I’ve promised the neighbour I’ll take his dog out as he’s away overnight. I’m sure I can next time though.’

It’s not Derek’s dog I’ll be keeping happy. I’m getting a new car in the morning and I’ve got a debt to pay.

Chapter 22

The Following July | Jenna

‘Morning, Grace, do you want a drink?’ I’m embarrassed still to be in my dressing gown when Grace is busy doing the ironing.