Orphan Sisters, page 31
‘I came a day later and the next-door neighbour told me you’d gone somewhere with suitcases,’ added Lana.
‘That would be when we drove up here. I didn’t have this place yet, but we lived down the road for a bit. My boys just wanted to look after me.’
‘I don’t know what to say,’ whispered Eve.
‘You don’t have to say anything, darling. If you’d come a few weeks before or months afterwards, I would have gladly taken you in. Just bad timing, I suppose. Bloody heart attack!’
‘How are you now? Are you—?’ asked Tina, moving closer to Aunty Ginny.
‘I take it easy. That bugger didn’t get me after all. But I get my checks and I have to be careful with this ticker of mine. All those wonderful doctors and nurses at the hospital know me now. They call me a walking miracle. Every day is a blessing. Seeing you girls is a blessing and a miracle, if you ask me!’
‘I can’t believe it,’ said Lana.
The four women sat in their own contemplation of the misunderstandings that had plagued their lives for many years.
‘I hope one day you will find it in your heart to forgive me, Eve … all of you. There hasn’t been a day gone by that I didn’t think of Tayo and Addy and you three kids. I failed you and that’s something I’ve had to live with all these years.’
Lana took Aunty Ginny’s hand in hers, squeezing softly. ‘We’re here for you now.’
‘And I still can’t believe it. You all sitting here with me in my granny flat, eating biscuits. Three beautiful young kids; a mixture of your lovely parents. I can’t make up for the past but I can bloody well be here for you now. As of today, I’m going to try my best, girls.’
Tina placed her hands over Aunty Ginny’s remaining free hand as Eve looked on with a stiff smile.
A light lunch followed, as did a calmer atmosphere.
Aunty Ginny moved slowly out of the chair. ‘Girls, there’s something you need to see.’
She returned a moment later, clutching a small circular leather case.
‘That’s very elegant,’ commented Tina.
‘It was our mother’s vanity case,’ said Eve, nodding her head slowly.
‘I have one at home … the one you gave me,’ added Lana.
‘Your father was always buying her things. She had more than one, you know. And I kept this one for myself, you know, just to have something of my best friend.’ Aunty Ginny closed and opened her eyes with a sigh. ‘Now, how do you open this thing?’
The three women edged closer as Aunty Ginny struggled with the silver lock.
‘Looks like it hasn’t been opened in years,’ said Tina.
‘It hasn’t. I may have opened it once when she first died but since then I couldn’t bring myself to do it again. I think twenty-one years is time enough.’
‘Wow!’ said Tina.
‘What? I must have been waiting for you lot to get your arses in gear and come and visit me!’
Lana gave an impatient chuckle, unable to override the anticipation she felt at the arrival of this second vanity case. It could contain anything from knitting needles to cotton reels. Yet it almost wouldn’t matter what was inside – the fact it had been touched by Mummy was enough.
Aunty Ginny carefully opened the lid and placed her hand inside. ‘Now, what do we have here? Oh …’
‘What is it?’ asked Tina.
Aunty Ginny pulled out a symmetrically folded piece of paper with Adanya written on the front.
‘I’d recognise that handwriting anywhere. So neat.’
‘Daddy?’ said Eve.
Aunty Ginny handed the letter to Eve. ‘I’m not sure what it says. Could be a shopping list. But it’s something.’
Eve could only stare at the paper in her hand. Her daddy’s handwriting.
‘This is amazing!’ said Lana, heartbeat pounding against the fabric of her blouse. ‘Just amazing.’
Eve held the letter closely to her chest.
‘You can all sit together at home and have a read. I can’t, though … it seems wrong to – you know. It’s private stuff. Wow, did those two love each other. True love. And that’s more than some of us ever get,’ said Aunty Ginny mournfully. She placed her hands back into the case and once again the sisters’ stood by in anticipation.
‘Pictures!’ Aunty Ginny handed each sister a handful of images. A mixture of monochrome and colour, some still intact and others grainy with age.
‘These are just some of the pictures your father took of the two of you after he got that fancy new camera. I think he had this idea about showing all these pictures to your grandparents back in Nigeria. Shame he never got to do that.’
‘This one is so funny. Eve in a sailor’s suit,’ said Lana.
‘I look like a little boy!’
‘The image of your father, even then. You still are now … but in a womanly sort of way … you know. I mean, you are very stylish, Eve.’
‘I’m in the fashion industry, so I should hope so!’ A rare joke from Eve to balance an atmosphere clogged with sadness.
Aunty Ginny scattered more photos onto the coffee table. ‘These were taken in the park around the back of where you lived. Your dad would take the two of you there for picnics and to feed the ducks every Saturday to give your mum a rest. Sometimes she would join you.’
‘I remember that,’ said Lana.
‘Me too. A little bit, anyway. Unfortunately, I don’t recall a lot about my father,’ said Eve sadly. ‘I’m not sure if I just blocked it all out.’
‘You and Lana were his angels. He always called you that.’ Eve smiled Daddy’s smile, her top lip curling just like his had. ‘I like that.’
‘Oh, bloody heck, look at how slim I look!’ said Aunty Ginny, pointing to the black and white picture of her standing beside Mummy. Two beautiful women from opposite worlds who had forged a love that would remain long after death and transcend into the lives of three little girls.
‘Look at me here. I look so weird!’ said Lana towards the picture of her with ice cream all over her cheeks.
Lana felt privileged to be transported to a time when both her mother and father were alive. She could remember the love, the closeness, the sense of family she hoped would be recreated now she’d found Aunty Ginny and her sisters.
‘Is there anything left in the case? Anything there of me?’ said Tina, her voice heavy with sorrow. Lana had already learned her baby sister’s nuances, her little facial expressions and hand gestures, and right now she was in pain.
‘It’s empty, love.’
‘I see …’
‘This was all a bit before your time,’ said Aunty Ginny.
‘I know … it just would have been nice to see something. At the moment I don’t have much tying me to you – just a birth certificate that says ‘Father: unknown’.
Lana leaned over and squeezed the hand of her little sister. She recalled lulling her to sleep most nights as they lay on one of the twin beds at John Adams Children’s Home, unable to work out if her tears were born of frustration or if the little girl just missed her mummy. Lana’s only concern then was to help her to feel better, like now.
Aunty Ginny eased herself out of her chair. ‘Just off to the little girls’ room,’ she said.
They continued to scour through the pictures, attempting to decipher stories attached to each old photograph. Their mother in various poses on the couch, sitting on the grass, standing by the front door in a black coat. She was easily the most beautiful woman Lana had ever seen.
Engrossed in these images from the past, Lana did not notice Aunty Ginny return.
‘I should have remembered, silly me! Must be old age!’ said Aunty Ginny. ‘The camera wasn’t as snazzy as Tayo’s, but it did the trick. I took it when you were both in hospital. I knew when she got better she’d want to see something of her little girl, you know.’ Aunty Ginny handed Tina a faded black and white photo.
‘Is that—?’
‘Yes, it’s you, Tina. A few hours old. I’m sorry it’s a bit faded, but it’s all I’ve got.’
Lana’s emotion bubbled to the surface as she watched her little sister sob with absolute and complete happiness.
‘It’s perfect … thank you, Aunty Ginny!’ The gritty surface of the black and white photograph did nothing to reduce its importance. A picture of a tiny baby nestled in the arms of a vacant mother. The sparkle was gone from her eyes and she was clearly unaware of the little girl asleep on her chest – but this one photo was a special gift that legitimised Tina’s ranking as the youngest daughter of Adanya Cole and little sister to Lanre and Mayowa Cole.
Tina kissed the surface of the photo and pressed it against her cheek.
‘I can’t believe you kept all these,’ said Eve, clutching an image of her father.
‘I never stopped thinking of you three. You were always in my heart, always. You were the daughters I never had.’
‘Well, we are your daughters.’ Lana smiled, resting her head onto Tina’s shoulder.
‘Really?’ A tear trickled down her face as Eve leaned over and placed a hand onto Aunty Ginny’s knee. ‘Addy was my best friend and a sister. She’d be so happy to know we’re all here together.’
‘I’m sure she knows,’ said Tina.
‘Your mother taught me so, so much and I will never forget her. To have you three beside me today and say you’re my daughters … this is one of the happiest days of my life. Thank you so much, girls, for making old Ginny Jones a very happy woman. And Lana, forget about returning to work as a receptionist … you need to become a blimming detective!’
A round of laughter followed.
‘It was all in the clues.’
‘Then again, I always knew you’d be in the health service. I just thought you’d be more on the medical side.’
‘I have always wanted to help people … maybe become a nurse. But the thought of all that studying … I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it much. Everything was about finding these two girls!’
‘Well, you’ve found them now, no more excuses!’ said Aunty Ginny.
‘Perhaps I’ll look into it.’
‘It doesn’t really matter. I know that Tayo and Addy would be so proud of how you’ve all turned out. So very proud.’
For Eve, hearing that her parents would actually be proud of her almost brought her to tears. But that was something she could do in private. Later. And possibly after reading her father’s precious letter.
As the three of them walked Scottie the dog, Aunty Ginny and Tina chattered away in front as Eve thought about how little all the accolades, fast cars and beautiful apartments meant without someone there to share them with, someone who could be proud of her. She couldn’t see her parents any more, but she now had two sisters, a niece and an aunty who seemed, despite her own reluctance, ready to take her in. Perhaps the concept of family was not so awful after all. Perhaps it had been wrong to base her beliefs on a set of circumstances she’d no control over.
Eve couldn’t remember most of the events depicted in the photos – she could not even remember her mother holding her – but it all must have happened at some point, as the pictures seemed to prove. Her father Tayo – her twin in looks – had also loved and cared for her before his death. Eyewitness reports from Aunty Ginny and the masses of photographs confirmed it. Eve pondered what her life might have been like if death hadn’t claimed him. No. As Tina had mentioned earlier, this was not the way to be thinking. She needed to be concerned with the importance of now.
The day had taken such an unexpected turn for Eve. She’d started out wanting to reveal the hurt and lies she’d painted around Aunty Ginny, yet instead was leaving the granny flat perhaps not a changed woman, but one well on her way to true, true healing.
Chapter Forty-three
‘Should I have brought along some armour?’ asked Phillip as Eve joined him at the table.
‘No,’ she replied with a smile.
‘A mineral water, please,’ said Eve as the waiter appeared.
‘Same,’ Phillip said.
‘This is nice.’ Her words felt clumsy and unnatural. This and so many new scenarios still felt very alien to Eve, but she would ‘go with it’, as Tina had suggested, and try to embrace the unfamiliarity currently invading her life. Two sisters she’d fooled herself into thinking she hadn’t missed, a niece and even a brother-in-law were now a part of her everyday life. Nothing would be the same again. And that was OK.
‘To what do I owe this pleasure?’ asked Phillip, his voice tainted with suspicion. Eve looked at him questioningly. ‘It’s not every day you ask to meet me in a restaurant, unless it’s to discuss work or a prelude to—’
‘I just wanted to see how you are.’
‘Finally come to your senses about us, huh?’
Eve made an exaggeratedly horrified face, wondering if this was a bad idea. Her rigid beliefs about romantic relationships hadn’t suddenly shifted. That would take time, and a lot of trust. But outside of her sisters, Phillip remained the only human being who’d witnessed her away from the protection of a boardroom and desk. She was changing and Phillip, by default, would be the first non-family member privy to this transformation.
‘I asked you here to get to know you.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘I don’t know much about you, Phillip … and I suppose I would like to – you know – get to know you more.’ Again the words sounded unnatural coming from her mouth, yet she hoped they appeared sincere.
‘You. Want. To. Get. To. Know. Me?’
‘Why not?’
‘Is this a joke?’
She sighed. Clearly, this would be harder than she’d envisaged. Eve would never be as emotional as Lana or as airy-fairy as Tina, but they shared DNA and a past, and these had to count for something.
The waiter placed their drinks onto the table.
‘If you want to know more about me, I will tell you about me,’ he began.
Fifteen minutes later, Eve had found out the man she’d ‘known’ for years actually grew up on a farm and disgraced the family name when revealing a passion for headhunting in the city!
‘My parents were distraught.’
‘They must have come around by now.’
‘Yes. When I bought them a silver Mercedes!’
Eve allowed her shoulders to relax, determined that the evening would not turn out so bad after all.
‘So, what about you, Eve?’
‘Don’t push it!’ she said passionately, hiding her fears. She cleared her throat. ‘OK … me …’
‘Who is Eve Cole?’
‘Don’t be so dramatic, Phillip,’ she said sternly.
‘And she’s back.’
She ignored him. ‘Me, I’m one of three girls.’
‘Wow! I had no idea you had sisters!’
And that was all she would be willing to share.
For now.
Chapter Forty-four
‘Seen anything you like?’ Ama asked. The smooth flow of Indian music had been replaced with ‘Freedom’ by Wham!, which didn’t fuse as effortlessly with the smell of lemongrass as Tina browsed the cluttered shelves of Ama’s tiny shop.
‘I fancied a change,’ Ama said, noticing Tina’s amusement. ‘I do like current music as well!’
‘Every time I’m in here, I realise I haven’t seen or heard everything!’ replied Tina, marvelling at the crystal heart-shaped earring box.
‘A bit like us humans,’ said Ama. ‘What you see isn’t always the big picture. There are so many layers.’
Tina knew she was referring to her. She’d confided in Ama about the tidal wave that had risen up in her life. One she was still riding.
‘Do not feel obligated to buy anything, Tina. I think you’ve bought my entire inventory of books anyway!’
‘They were for my sister, Eve.’
‘It does appear you have yet to find what it is you are looking for.’
‘What do you mean, Ama?’
‘Despite what you have said, I do not believe it was fate that brought you into my shop. A part of you may like to think I am this magical African woman who was thrust into your path to help you find out about your culture. But that’s just not the case.’
‘It isn’t?’ Tina replied wearily.
‘No. You searched until you found a shop that looked remotely ethnic enough, saw me with a kaftan and my African name, and thought you had found what you’d been looking for. I bet you even tried Brixton first, am I right?’
‘Maybe,’ Tina admitted, with an embarrassed smile.
‘Well, I was born in Basildon to Bajan parents and only recently changed my name to Ama from Amelia. I wanted to hold onto my ancestral past in any way I could, just like you.’
Tina gazed around the warm, inviting grotto-like space.
‘This shop covers a lot of continents, a lot of people. What you find here will give you something of what you need to know, but not enough.’
‘So where can I get information? A library?’
‘You’ve had it all along, Tina. Everything you need to know about your culture, about Nigeria, you have in your two sisters. They’re there. Talk to them, quiz them!’
‘I sometimes feel so guilty talking to them about the past. I had a wonderful life whilst they were stuck in that dreadful place. But you’re right, of course.’
‘Maybe I am magical after all.’ She smiled. ‘I enjoy your visits, Tina, but they must lessen as you get to know your sisters, your culture, and you!’
‘Thank you, Ama.’ Tina reluctantly turned to the door.
‘And one last thing,’ said Ama. ‘Talk to Sarah. Your mother. Eventually you must forgive her.’
Tina used her key to let herself into the house.
‘You came back!’
‘I’m here, aren’t I?’ she said. Oh, how she wanted her words to come out harsher, to place just some of the hurt and anguish onto her mother. But what would it accomplish?
Her mother stood under the ridiculously grand chandelier as Susan hovered on the spiral staircase in that dreadful uniform her mother made her wear.
‘Hi, Susan,’ called Tina with a wave.
