Finding Home by Kate Field (read book .txt) 📗

cut open at one end, and her name and birth date were written on it. She rubbed her thumb along the letters, feeling dazed, wondering if something so small could really hold such huge significance.

‘It was your baby name tag from the hospital,’ Lucas explained. ‘Dad kept it.’

She looked at the photograph next but it only needed a glance. It showed a pair of teenagers with a baby. She knew every detail of it already because she had an identical copy. She made an odd noise, half gasp, half sob. Was it too soon to believe this was real? Should she wait, insist on some kind of test, some actual, scientific proof? But she didn’t need science when every instinct told her it was true. It wasn’t too soon. It was years later than it should have been. But not too late. It could never be too late.

She looked up at Lucas.

‘Is our dad here with you?’

She knew the answer before he spoke and she slumped back in her seat. It was too late. The grief was still fresh on his face.

‘He died last summer,’ Lucas said. ‘He had a tumour. There were only two weeks between the doctors finding it and him going. It was horrible.’

His shoulders shook and he bit his lip, trying not to cry. He looked so young and lost that there was only one thing Mim could do. She went round the table and hugged him, and as he hugged her back the truth sank in. She was a sister. She had someone to look out for, like the Howards looked out for each other. She had a role and a purpose that had been missing until now. She had someone to love. As Lucas’s tears dampened her shoulder, she made a silent vow. She was going to be the best sister possible, whatever it took, whatever the cost. It felt like she’d found the missing piece of her world that Bea had talked about – not romantic love, but sisterly love. Nothing else mattered.

Over Lucas’s shoulder, she saw Corin walk into the pub, Dickens trotting at his heel. She watched as he scanned the bar and then spotted her in the corner. He hesitated, his smile wavering, and then wandered over to speak to Howie, who shrugged in response to whatever Corin said. Mim turned away and resumed her seat.

‘Tell me everything,’ she said to Lucas. ‘I want to know all about you.’

She was thrilled to hear what a happy, conventional life he had led: brought up by the sea in Blackpool with married parents who clearly adored him, especially when no other children followed. He’d had grandparents from both sides and his maternal grandmother was still alive. There were aunts, uncles, and cousins on his mother’s side, and they’d enjoyed holidays and Christmases together. He’d been average at school and had obtained a degree in Biology but was now training to be a plumber. He lived at home with his mum, and yes, he had a girlfriend but it was early days, he admitted with red cheeks when Mim asked what she thought would be an obvious big-sister question. And she learnt as much from what he didn’t say as what he did. He was quietly spoken, shy, and clearly didn’t enjoy talking about himself. He loved his family and had no desire to move away from them or from Blackpool. Mim liked him, genuinely liked him.

‘What about you?’ Lucas asked at last. ‘It said in the paper that you’d been sleeping in your car. That’s not right, is it? What about your mum?’ He flushed. ‘Sorry. Has she died too?’

‘I don’t know.’ Mim shrugged. The story of her life sounded even more tawdry after hearing about Lucas’s upbringing, but she wasn’t going to shrink from it now any more than she had in the past. It wasn’t her fault. Gordon had instilled that belief in her and it was the best inheritance he could have given her. ‘She had problems and had a habit of picking the wrong men. I was taken into care when I was eight. I moved in and out of foster homes for a while, because she kept promising to sort herself out. But she didn’t and I ended up in a care home. We didn’t have any contact after that.’

There were many gaps in the story and she noticed Lucas’s gaze flick to her arm, where the scarring was clearly visible below the sleeve of her T-shirt. Perhaps one day they would build a relationship and she could tell him everything. Or perhaps not. He looked so young, so innocent. Perhaps it was the role of a big sister to protect him from some truths.

‘You must hate me,’ Lucas said. ‘I’ve had such an easy life. Dad can’t have known what was happening to you. He was a good dad.’

‘I’m glad.’ She would never wish her childhood on anyone else. She was happy for Lucas, not jealous of him. But Lucas had said he’d been looking for her for a year. Where had her dad been for the thirty-three years before that? ‘Did he never mention me?’ she asked. Lucas shook his head.

‘Not until the end. He told me and Mum, when he knew he wasn’t going to live. She hadn’t known about you either. She was furious with him.’

‘I’m not surprised. It’s a pretty big secret to keep from your wife.’

‘Yeah, it wasn’t that. She wasn’t furious with him for herself. It was for you, because he’d never made an effort to find you.’

‘And what does she think about you trying to find me now?’ Mim asked.

‘She’s been helping me. Dad asked us to do it. It was all he was bothered about in those last two weeks.’ Lucas looked tearful again. ‘And anyway, she wanted to find you as much as I do. You’re family. You’re one of us.’

The next few days were strange and wonderful. In between shifts at the pub, occasional