‘You’ve had years of building up to this point; times when you’ve been excited, enthusiastic, frustrated, sad and resigned to never finding her.’ Tom is right. I have experienced all those emotions and many more. ‘And now it’s actually happened, now you’ve found Alice, or rather, she’s found you, all those emotions have gone and you’re left with what? Love? Probably not. You may love the memory of your little sister Alice, but now you’re confronted with the real-life, adult Alice. Those two people are poles apart. You probably can’t even work out what you’re feeling. The euphoric feeling when she first wrote, that’s long gone. The fairytale ending has happened. Now you’re in for the long, hard slog of trying to build a relationship from scratch. Trying to love someone you don’t know.’
‘You know what?’ I say. ‘You actually sound like you know what you’re talking about.’
Tom gives another playful yank of my hair. ‘Yeah, well, sometimes I do, actually.’
‘In my mind I thought, assumed even, that I would have this instant connection with Alice. A bond so strong that twenty years apart wouldn’t matter,’ I say. ‘And now the reality isn’t quite as romantic as you see in the films or read in books. The reality is that it’s difficult and strained.’ I look down at the ground, not wanting to say out loud what I’m thinking, yet at the same time wanting to tell Tom. He seems to understand how I’m feeling. I decide to say it. Talking to Tom is safe. ‘I know this will make me sound like some crazy woman, but last weekend …’ I pause, wondering if I can say it.
‘Last weekend?’ prompts Tom.
‘Last weekend, I even had a few bad thoughts about her and she’s only just got here. No, that’s not right. Not thoughts, feelings, really.’
‘In what way?’
Now I’m regretting starting this part of the conversation, but I know Tom won’t be fobbed off. ‘Jealous feelings. Just tiny little ones, but they were there all the same. Jealous the way Mum is fussing over her. For example, Alice wanted peanut butter and jelly. I offered her jam, which wasn’t good enough, so Mum was all set for sending Luke off to find exactly what Alice wanted. And then there’s Luke. On Sunday she went on the i360 with him and when they came off, she was hanging onto him like she owned him. And when Hannah didn’t want to hold Alice’s hand, you know what? I felt a small ounce of victory wash over me.’ Truth be told, I had wanted to high-five Hannah at the time and shout, in very American cheerleader way, go Hannah, go Hannah!
Tom laughs. ‘Well, this is a first. I do believe it’s called jealousy.’
‘I know! What the hell’s wrong with me?’
‘You do trust Luke, don’t you?’ His voice has taken on a serious tone.
‘Of course I trust him,’ I say, without hesitation. ‘Luke loves me. I know that. He’s never once done anything to make me even question his honesty.’
‘I know, it’s just that men of a certain age can get their heads turned if a pretty young woman starts to take an interest.’ He drains the rest of his coffee. ‘I’ve handled plenty of divorce cases where an older man has been flattered by the attentions of a younger woman.’
‘Luke wouldn’t do that to me, so I don’t even know why we’re having this conversation.’
‘If I recall, you brought it up in the first place. Anyway, you know your husband best. Who am I to say what he is or is not likely to do? We’re both probably reading far too much into it. That’s what comes of being a solicitor.’ He takes the empty panini wrapper from me, scrunching it up with his own and getting up, chucks it into the rubbish bin. ‘Everything will be fine. You’ll be fine, Clare. Give yourself a break. And Alice.’ He begins to walk away. ‘Come on, we’d better get back before Leonard puts out an APB on us.’
I catch him up and we walk back through the park. ‘I think I’m tired. Emotionally. I’ll be okay, though. Just a bit of an overreaction on my part.’ I drop my empty cup into the next bin we pass. ‘Anyway, when do you fancy coming over to meet her?’
Tom pulls a face. ‘I don’t know. Is it a good idea?’
‘Of course it is. Come over on Saturday with Lottie. Hannah would love to see her; they can play in the garden. You can’t not meet Alice after all the years of me banging on about her and roping you in to try to trace her. Leonard’s coming.’
‘Maybe.’
‘Absolutely no “maybe” about it,’ I say. ‘You won’t be intruding or anything. I’d like you to come. Really, I would. Please?’ For some reason it’s suddenly very important to me that Tom meets Alice.
‘Okay,’ says Tom with a lack of enthusiasm. ‘I’ll come.’
‘Excellent. Don’t let me down.’
‘When have I ever let you down?’
Driving home that evening, I make a conscious decision to try to relax a bit more about Alice being here. I need to recapture that initial enthusiasm I felt when she first got in touch. I put my unease down to not only Alice’s return, but also the pressure I’m under at work with the McMillan case.