The next day – Tuesday – just before six, when I was in that now-familiar post-hospital standing-in-front-of-the-fridge-and-wondering-what-to-eat time of day, Sam arrived.
‘I was supposed to prepare you dinner, but thought Joan would prefer me to spend the time searching instead, so I got this.’
He held out one giant and one individual pizza box, which both smelt so delicious I almost swooned. That is, until Sam brushed past me in the kitchen and I caught a whiff of his freshly washed hair and what I suspected might be a hint of aftershave and I almost forgot all about the pizza.
While Joan washed her hands and collected plates and drinks, I hurried round to Middle Cottage with the individual pizza. For a brief, exhilarating moment, I thought Ebenezer would answer after my first knock, but when Joan hopped out of the back door, bursting with impatience, I gave up and rapped again. When the door swung open on my second tap, I decided that counted as one knock – and another step closer to my end goal.
‘Pizza,’ I announced. ‘Wheat-free. All the works.’
‘All the works?’ he grizzled. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘It means tons of toppings. Meat, veggies, olives, extra cheese.’
‘Sounds like a revolting mess.’
‘But tastes and smells delicious.’ I handed him the box with a grin and skipped off.
Joan sat, ignoring her slice of Pepperoni Passion until I insisted she take a bite before Sam shared what he’d found. Thankfully, he got straight to the important bit:
‘I have an address.’
Joan looked at me, her face a mixture of excitement and I told you so!
‘How sure are you?’ I asked, my heart careening about in my chest.
‘I’m very confident that a Carole and Peter Armitage-Brown, living in Chester, are the parents of Leanne Emily Armitage-Brown, born in Chester. I’ve had a decent search and can’t find anyone else with those names.’
‘You found them.’ A piece of pepperoni slid off the slice of Joan’s pizza as it dangled halfway between the plate and her open mouth.
‘Yes.’
‘When can we go?’ Joan asked. ‘Do you have any reading sessions tomorrow because I’m sure they won’t mind you cancelling if you explain that it’s an emergency and you can always rearrange for the day after and please can we go tomorrow, please, Ollie, you know how much this means to me!’
I waited for her to stop and take a breath.
‘Do you have a phone number?’
Sam shook his head apologetically.
‘Can we get one?’
‘Not legally, no. I’ve tried all the obvious searches.’
I had another quick check to see if Carole had accepted my friend request, but it remained unanswered.
‘I do know how much this means to you, Joan, but we need to think a few things through first.’
Her cheeks flushed pink with annoyance. ‘What things?’
‘Things like whether this is the best thing to do, when would be a good time to go if it is, whether or not you should come.’
Joan broke out in outraged splutters at that comment.
‘They might not still live there. Or they might be on holiday – it is August. They might—’
‘I know!’ she shouted, her chair scraping across the tiles as she jumped to her feet. ‘They might be dead! They might be evil criminals who shoot us for trespassing! They might be secret alien spies who planted the birth certificate so they can take over Mum’s cleaning company! If we aren’t going to go and find out, then what was the point in looking?’
‘We are going to find out,’ I replied, doing my best to pretend I wasn’t a jumbled mess of turmoil and trepidation too. ‘But like I said, we need to consider how we do it. Can you give Sam and me a chance to do that, please? Let’s make sure we do it the right way so that we have the best possible chance of it working out well.’
‘I told you it’s going to work out well, just like I told you we’d find them!’ Joan retorted, but her shoulders had stopped heaving quite so hard, and she finished the statement by sitting back down and tearing off a giant piece of pizza with her teeth.
She chewed her mouthful, eyes roving from side to side as she considered this. ‘Okay. I’ll do it your way. On one condition. I’m coming too. You know that they’re more likely to behave nicely and say yes to coming to meet Mum if their adorable long-lost granddaughter is there.’ Joan pulled a fake-sweet face, clasping her hands in front of her chest. ‘I will melt their hearts.’
I wasn’t about to argue. She’d melted mine. ‘Okay, you can come.’
‘Promise?’
‘I promise. If you promise to wait in the car while I check out the house and make sure it looks safe before we ring the doorbell.’
‘Well, Sam can do that, can’t he?’
‘Um, I don’t think Sam’s going to trek all the way to Chester with us.’
‘Are you kidding?’ Sam asked. ‘I wouldn’t miss this for the world.’
Joan wasn’t the only one capable of melting my heart.
We sent her off to choose a film to watch – I’d not got around to buying a television, but we’d moved hers over from New Cottage the previous weekend.
‘Fine!’ she said, waving her hand breezily as she left the room. ‘You have your secret, adult-only conversation about my grandparents while I pretend to spend ages choosing a film. Then you can come in and tell me the PG version of your plan.’
‘What do you really think?’ I asked Sam, popping the caps off two beers.
‘About what?’
‘All of it!’
‘I think it’s genuinely them, like I said. I think that there are lots of reasons why teenagers can become estranged from their parents, but not many of them still matter fifteen years later. Has Leanne given any indication that they might be people we need to protect Joan from?’
‘No. And I think that when she shared her story, she’d have mentioned if her parents drove her away, rather than being groomed by that evil man.’ I took a drink. ‘Still, though. Is this a totally irresponsible thing to be doing? I could drop Joan off at holiday club tomorrow and just go, check it out first.’
‘And be back in time to pick her up and tell her that you broke your promise?’
‘Crap.’
Lesson learnt in basic parenting: don’t make a promise you’ll regret ten minutes later.
‘You really don’t have to come if you’d rather stay out of it. You weren’t stupid enough to promise.’
Sam looked at me steadily across the table. His eyes were like pools of caramel. Even in the midst of my anxiety, I felt that fizz of attraction that made me want to lean in and touch him.
‘While I think the safety risks are minimal, the emotional risk is another matter. You might appreciate a slightly more impartial head and steady pair of hands. I also find that people are more inclined to speak to a stranger knocking on the door if they’re a solicitor.’
‘Thank you.’ I hoped those simple words managed to convey how much it meant. The thought of Joan and I attempting this meeting by ourselves was terrifying. With Sam there, I could dare to hope it might turn out okay.