I scribbled down the names in two columns – one for Louise’s bloodline and one for Teddy’s. And realised that of course the current male Forbes line was also distantly related to Flora through her sister, Aurelia: Flora was Orlando and Mouse’s great-great aunt.
But . . . if I was Tessie’s great-granddaughter, then I was directly related to Marguerite through Teddy. And, therefore, to Rory. At least that thought made me smile. The next dilemma I faced was whether I wanted to take this whole thing further. As the chances were, my parents were still alive.
I stood up and paced the room, trying to decide whether I wanted to trace them. Given I knew Tessie’s name and the area where she had lived, it would probably be quite straightforward to find out about the child she had given birth to in 1944. And any children after that.
But . . . why had my parents given me away?
I halted abruptly in my mental meanderings, as I heard voices at the front door and a key being inserted into the lock.
‘Shit!’ I ran towards the fireplace in a desperate attempt to hide the evidence of my overnight stay. The front door opened to reveal Mouse, followed by a diminutive Chinese man, who I recognised from the antiques shop next door.
‘Hello, Star,’ Mouse said, surprise on his face.
‘Hello,’ I said, clutching a cushion to my chest.
‘Mr Ho, this is Star, our bookshop assistant. I didn’t realise you’d be in today.’
‘No. Well, I thought I should come and check on the premises,’ I said as I walked to the window and hurriedly drew back the shutters.
‘Thank you,’ he said, casting his eyes over to the fireplace where the jumpers I’d used to keep me warm in the night were strewn in a heap by the open holdall.
‘Shall I light the fire?’ I asked him. ‘It’s chilly in here.’
‘Not on our behalf, no. Mr Ho wants to take a look at the flat above the shop.’
‘Right. Okay, now you’re here, I’ll go,’ I said, bending down to stuff my things into my holdall.
‘As a matter of fact, I was going to drop in on you at your apartment anyway. Orlando gave me something for you. Hang on for a bit, we won’t be long,’ he said, as he turned and ushered Mr Ho to the back of the shop, and I heard them mount the stairs.
I lit the fire anyway, my cheeks burning with the agony of embarrassment. When they returned, I busied myself at the back of the shop as they talked by the front door, and tried not to listen to the details.
The door opened and closed to let Mr Ho out, then Mouse strode towards me.
‘You stayed here last night, didn’t you?’
I couldn’t tell if it was anger or concern in his green eyes. ‘Yes, sorry.’
‘No problem. I’m just interested to know why you didn’t go home.’
‘I just . . . wanted some peace.’
‘I understand.’
‘How’s Rory?’
‘Missing you. I collected him from school yesterday, and after he’d gone to bed, Orlando and I sat down and had a long chat. I told him about Mr Ho’s offer. As a matter of fact, he took it much better than I thought he would. He seemed far more concerned about upsetting you.’
‘Good. I’m glad for you both.’ I could hear the petulance in my voice.
‘Star, stop it. You’re verging on the self-indulgent. And I know all about being self-indulgent,’ he said gently. ‘Orlando was very concerned about your state of mind, as was I. We’ve both left messages on your mobile, but you didn’t pick up.’
‘There are no mobiles allowed in the shop. So I didn’t.’
A smile tugged at his lips. ‘Anyway . . .’ Mouse dug into the pocket of his Barbour. ‘This is for you.’ He handed me a large brown envelope. ‘Orlando told me he’s been doing some investigating on your behalf.’
‘Right. Well,’ I said, tucking the envelope into the front of my rucksack and picking up my holdall. ‘Tell him thanks.’
‘Star, please . . . take care of yourself. At least you have your sister.’
I didn’t reply.
‘Have the two of you fallen out?’ he asked eventually. ‘Is that why you didn’t go home last night?’
‘I don’t think we should be so reliant on each other,’ I said abruptly.
‘When I met her, she certainly struck me as very possessive of you.’
‘She is. But she loves me.’
‘As Orlando and I love each other – even if we do fall out. If he hadn’t been there for me in the past few years, I can’t imagine what I’d have done. He has the kindest heart, you know. Wouldn’t hurt a fly.’
‘I do know.’
‘Star, why don’t you open the envelope he sent you?’
‘I will.’
‘I mean, here and now. I think it would be good to have someone with you.’
‘Why are you suddenly being so nice to me?’ I asked him quietly.
‘Because I can see that you’re hurting. And I want to help you. As you’ve helped me in the past few weeks.’
‘I don’t think I have.’
‘That’s up to me to decide. You’ve shown all of us kindness, patience and tolerance, when I in particular haven’t deserved it. You’re a good person, Star.’
‘Thanks.’ I was still hovering uncertainly with my holdall.
‘Look, why don’t you come and sit by the fire while I go upstairs and collect the bits and pieces Orlando has asked me to take back for him to High Weald?’
‘Okay,’ I surrendered, simply because my legs felt like jelly. As Mouse disappeared through the door at the back, I pulled the envelope out of my rucksack and opened it.
High Weald
Ashford, Kent
1st November 2007
My dearest Star,
I am writing to beg your forgiveness for the clumsy way I spoke to you yesterday. Believe me, I was not mocking you – far from it. I was merely amused by the irony of genetics and fate.
I must now admit that ever since you first walked into the shop and showed me the Fabergé cat and your coordinates, I have been on the trail to trace your heritage. For, of course, it may be inextricably bound up with our own. Enclosed is another envelope with all the facts you need to know about your real family.
I shall say no more (unusual for me), but rest assured, I am here to assist you if you need further explanation.
Again, I beg your pardon. And Rory sends you his best love too.
Your friend and admirer,
Orlando
My fingers passed over the expensive vellum envelope, which was closed with a wax seal. So, here it lay in front of me: the truth of my birth. My fingers began to tremble and I felt horribly sick and dizzy.
‘You okay?’ Mouse asked as he found me with my head resting against my knuckles.
‘Yes . . . no,’ I confessed.
He walked over to me as my head spun, and put a hand on my shoulder.
‘Poor Star. Doctor Mouse deduces that the patient is suffering from shock, emotion and almost certainly hunger. Therefore, as it’s lunchtime, I’m going to nip across the road and feed you for a change. Won’t be a moment.’
I watched him leave, and despite myself, managed a smile as I banished the image of the Sewer Rat and – for today at least – turned it into a soft white creature with cute ears and a pink nose.