My Mother's Children: An Irish family secret and the scars it left behind. by Annette Sills (epub e reader .TXT) 📗

and Achill connections and I vaguely recalled him saying something about his son but I couldn’t remember what.

How? I asked myself. How had our paths crossed that night? And again that day in Achill? Was it pure bizarre coincidence? Surely it had to be something more than fate or happenstance. I started to think Tess had a hand in it from the grave but then I told myself to cop on.

As I sat in shock across the table from Timothy, I listened to him talk about Dan and his son Archie.

“Like your brother Mikey, both Archie and Dan are carriers of Familial Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy. Dan and Ellie found out a couple of years ago when Archie was in hospital for a routine operation. He’s in perfectly good health but he has to have regular tests. Dan too.”

I thought of the smiling boy I’d seen eating ice cream that day in the car park in Achill. Then I remembered that Dan had told me he raised funds for the British Heart Foundation in Manchester because his son was in and out of the cardiac unit at the children’s hospital. But he didn’t go into detail about HCM. I’d have remembered if he had. He didn’t tell me that he was a sufferer, either. I sat back and shook my head slowly. So it wasn’t bizarre coincidence or destiny that had brought us together at all. We were both at the fundraiser because we were tied together by our genes and by HCM. But the meeting in Achill? After Dan emailed me to arrange to meet we exchanged a couple of emails. When I told him about seeing him in Achill he was as incredulous as I was. He said that his wife Ellie had recently inherited a cottage on the island from her aunt. They were back and forth a lot working on it. He also said that the shop where I’d seen him was the busiest hub on the relatively remote island so if we two people were going to bump into each other anywhere it would be there. I often went back to Achill when I went back to Mayo. It was my go-to place as it held so many good memories for me from the days when Dad was alive. After visiting the Mother and Baby home and feeling the keen loss of my baby brother, Achill was the natural place for me to head to that day. I cycled in search of solace and healing, having no idea what else my day would bring.

A few days after I left Battersea, Timothy travelled to Dan’s home in Altringham and told him the truth about his past. He also told him I’d been trying to trace him and passed on my contact details. A week later Dan sent me an email, saying he wanted to meet but needed time. He said he was finding it hard to process everything he’d just been told. Timothy and I exchanged a number of phone calls. In one call he told me Dan had cut off all contact with him. He was heartbroken and started to cry, saying how much he and Stephano missed having contact with Archie, Dan’s son, and the new baby. Two long months passed. Every morning when I woke up I reached for my phone and checked my emails but there was nothing from Dan. Then, just as I’d convinced myself that it wasn’t going to happen, he got in touch.

I glanced at my watch. He was ten minutes late. Lifting my latte to my lips, I somehow missed my mouth and splashed coffee on my top. Swearing under my breath, I picked up a napkin and rubbed at the stain. Mary had helped me choose my outfit the day before. Jeans tucked into boots, a cream silk top and pale-blue patterned scarf. She was so excited when told her I’d found my brother and was curious to meet him. Joe was happy for me too. He was still living in the flat in Salford then.

In the playground below the window a blonde boy of about ten in school uniform was standing inside a giant hamster wheel, stretching his limbs and attempting a 360-degree turn. A younger boy turned the wheel and fell about laughing as the older boy toppled over again and again. I grinned. The boy inside the wheel had a look of Mikey when he was little. I glanced at the empty chair beside me. What would I have given to have him sitting there with me. A clatter of plates and when I turned my head I saw our brother striding through the café entrance towards me.

Chapter 39

Dan gave a nervous laugh and said, “We mustn’t keep meeting like this.”

I stood up and we hugged awkwardly, his stubble catching my cheek. He smelled of cigarettes. His hair was more auburn than I remembered. He was more angular too, all elbows and sharp edges like a bicycle frame. I’d put him in his late forties when we first met. He was actually fifty-six but he looked good on it.

We stood still and stared at each other for a moment, our arms falling by our sides like we’d forgotten what to do with them. His cheeks were flushed and I was relieved to see he looked as terrified as I felt. He unravelled a mustard scarf and slipped off his burgundy Puffa jacket. Underneath he wore autumnal colours that complemented his hair, a dark yellow-and-green check shirt and burgundy jeans.

As we sat down Tess’s face came to me. It was as clear as day. She was wearing bright-pink lipstick, she’d just had her hair done and a bright smile lit up her face. I suddenly felt overcome. Tears started to pour down my cheeks and I couldn’t speak. It was all too much. I was overwhelmed by the pure and utter joy of my brother’s presence.

I wiped my eyes with the back