Alanna suppressed a shudder. She saw no hint of herself in this woman, other than the eye color and skin tone. The hideous dyed hair covered whatever the natural color might have been. “I think we’ll need more proof.”
Maire shrugged, then hefted her bag onto her lap and began to dig through it. “Here we be.” She dragged out a large manilla envelope. “Your birth certificate is in here, and some pictures of the two of us.”
Alanna’s hand trembled as she took the envelope and opened it. A birth certificate fell out. The name on the certificate was Alanna Maire Costello. Born to Maire and Robert Costello. Her birthdate of September fourth. She laid it aside and picked up the first of the pictures. A chubby-cheeked baby smiled a toothless grin at the camera. The writing on the back read: Alanna, age six months.
“The baby could be anyone,” she said, though something about the sofa behind the child was familiar.
Maire leaned forward and jabbed a finger at the photo. “It’s you, lass! Your hair and eyes. Don’t be telling me you can’t see that.”
Alanna bit her lip and pulled out the other two photos. One was a picture she’d seen before. It had been snapped just before her father died and her mother took off. She was sitting on her daddy’s lap, and his chin rested on the top of her red curls. Pressing her trembling lips together, she looked at the last picture.
Her three-year-old self held the hand of a young woman. The young woman could have been Alanna today. Curly red hair, vivid eyes, wide smile. The two of them stood in front of a basket stand much like the one she’d seen in the Travellers’ community earlier today.
Air didn’t want to fill her lungs no matter how fast she pulled it in. “Why did you leave me?” she managed to whisper. “You just left me at home and never came back.”
Patricia took the pictures from Alanna’s numb fingers. “I think we’ve heard quite enough of this scam. I’m going to ask you to leave. You people are well known for your con jobs. I’m sure you cobbled this picture together on one of those photo editing programs. You saw this picture in the paper and thought you’d seize an opportunity to ingratiate yourself here. It won’t work.”
Was Patricia right? But no. Alanna recognized the picture of her dad. That hadn’t been altered. “I don’t think she’s lying.” Her gaze locked with Maire’s defiant one. “Where is my sister? Why you did it doesn’t matter. Where is Neila?”
Patricia stood. “This has gone on long enough. I want you to leave.” She grasped Maire’s arm and yanked her from the chair. The other woman stumbled and nearly fell. She grabbed for her bag and succeeded in catching it by its handles.
Alanna sprang to her feet. “Don’t touch her!” She wanted answers first.
Patricia continued to propel Maire toward the door. Alanna ran to block their path. “Let go of her! Barry!” she called over her shoulder to her husband, who had just shut the door to keep the rain out.
Barry came up behind her. “What’s going on?”
“This . . . this woman is claiming to be Alanna’s mother. She’s here to try to con you out of money,” Patricia panted.
“Let her go, Mother,” Barry said. “Now.”
His mother released Maire’s arm. “If you want to swallow her lies, be my guest.” She stormed off to the stairs. A few moments later, the door to their suite slammed.
Barry glanced at Alanna. “I’d better go talk to her. I’ll be right back.” His quick steps went up the stairs.
Alanna clasped her trembling hands together. “Come back to the living room,” she told Maire. She couldn’t let herself even think the word mum.
Maire studied her face, then nodded. “But only because you asked me.” She followed Alanna down the hall to the parlor.
Maire guzzled the tea, but Alanna couldn’t have swallowed a drop. She should sit, but her inner agitation made her pace the floor. “What do you want from me?”
“Why, child, I don’t want anything other than to get to know my daughter.”
Alanna eyed the woman’s smile. “Why now, after all this time? You could have found me anytime.”
Maire shook her head. “I tried. Social Services told me nothing. I think they were prejudiced against me. I overheard one of them calling me a ‘bloody tinker’ and then she came back and sent me on my way.” She gave an indignant sniff. “I moved to America twenty-five years ago, but I never forgot my lass.”
“Where is Neila? You took her with you.” Neila was the one Alanna looked up to, the one who poured her cereal in the morning when Mum was too hung over to get out of bed. Neila had held her when she cried and wiped her runny nose. Alanna had missed her sister even more than their mother.
Maire shrugged. “I arranged a good marriage for her, the best, but she vanished one day. She eloped with another Traveller about five years ago and they went off to Texas. I lost track of her.”
“Who did she marry?”
“Paddy Gorman.”
“Did you never try to find her?”
“She was of age.”
Alanna stared at the woman who said she was her mum. “You never really tried to find me, did you?”
“’Course I did, Alanna. I just said so, didn’t I?” She raised the newspaper in her hand in triumph. “And I did.”