An Impossible Secret (7 page)

“You should.”

“I know. I will, but not yet.”

“What happens now?”

“I'll try to trace them from the information on my birth certificate. Will you help me?”

“Of course. What do you want me to do?

“I don’t really want to use the library's computers. I can’t do it from home because we don’t have the Internet. I thought I might go to the library in town—there are some private booths there.”

“Or you could do it from my house.”

“Really? Would that be okay? What about your mum?”

“She won’t disturb us. She knows better than to come into my bedroom when I’m in there.”

“Your bedroom?” Kerry said. “Is that a good idea?”

“Why not? It will be the best place to get some privacy.”

“What will your mum think if we're together in there?”

“Her mind is like a sewer, but I don’t care what she thinks.”

“I do.”

Brice rubbed his chin.

“We could leave the bedroom door open.”

Kerry looked into Brice’s eyes. She knew she could trust him—she wasn’t so sure she could trust herself.

“If you’d rather, we can go to the library in town.”

“No. Your place will be fine. Thanks. When could we make a start?”

“Whenever you want.”

“How about tonight?”

“Sure. My last lesson finishes at four. Can you meet me in the car park then?”

“I’ll be there.”

Chapter 32

Kerry knew she ought to tell her mum she’d be late in, but how could she when they didn't have a phone? Why wouldn’t her mum get one installed? Kerry supposed she could get Brice to drop by her house, but that would invite too many questions. Besides, there was no guarantee her mum would be in.  Kerry was standing next to Brice’s car—there was no sign of him yet. A few girls were staring at her. She could hear them giggling and whispering to one another. She didn’t care—she was getting used to it.

“Hi, sorry I was delayed.” Brice seemed to appear from nowhere.

“It's okay. I can’t be too late back tonight—my mum will worry.”

“Can’t you call her? Err… oh yeah, I forgot—no phone. Jump in. We can make a start tonight and, if necessary, continue tomorrow.

Kerry loved the open-top car. The wind in her eyes made them water a little, but it was worth it.

“When do you plan to tell your mum you have the information?” Brice had to shout to make himself heard.

She leaned closer, so her mouth was only inches from his ear.

“I thought I’d wait until I know more about them. If it turns out I can’t even trace them, there’s no point in saying anything.”

Brice nodded,

Kerry felt something catch on her toes. Lifting her leg, she stooped to pull the cloth off her foot.

“Stop!” she shouted.

Brice reacted immediately—stamping his foot hard on the brake. He stared at the road ahead trying to see what she'd seen. A dog? A cat? He couldn’t see anything.

“What’s wrong?” He turned to look at Kerry who was holding something at arm's length.

“What is it?”

“As if you don't know.”

 Only now did he recognise what she was holding. A pair of yellow panties.

“Pull over.” Kerry already had her hand on the door.

As soon as the car came to a halt, Kerry opened the door.

“What are you doing? Where are you going?”

“Home.” She threw the panties at him.

“Why?”

“Why do you think?” She wasn’t about to let him see her cry. How could she have been so stupid? How could she have believed he’d be interested in her?

“I don’t know anything about these.”

“Don’t lie to me, Brice. You’ve done enough of that already.”

She turned, and began to walk back the way they'd come.

He climbed out of the car and ran after her.

“Kerry, wait!” He put a hand on her shoulder.

She stopped, and turned to face him.

“I thought you liked me.”

“I do…”

“Leave me alone, Brice. I don’t want to see you again.”

A horn sounded. A queue of traffic had formed behind his car.

“Please get back in the car,” he said. “We have to talk.”

“There's nothing to talk about. Goodbye, Brice.”

Chapter 33

Brice wanted to follow Kerry, but the queue of traffic behind his car now stretched as far as the eye could see. Car horns were sounding all along the queue, and several drivers were giving him verbal abuse. The traffic was too heavy to do a U-turn, and by the time he'd reached the next roundabout, Kerry would be long gone.

He glared at the yellow panties which were on the passenger seat. Whose were they? How had they got there? His first thought had been that his mother might have ‘used’ his car, but he could see the panties were several sizes too small to be hers. What about Weston? He had been hanging around the car park. Although Brice disliked him with a passion, he couldn't see him doing this somehow. When Brice found out who was responsible, there would be hell to pay.

Then it came to him. It had to have been the blonde punk. Why had she done it? Who was she, and why did she have it in for him? When he’d spotted her hovering around his car, he’d assumed she meant to key the other side. That must have been when she planted the panties.  He had to tell Kerry. He had to explain what had happened. But then, why would she believe him? It sounded way too incredible. Why would some mystery girl, who Brice didn’t even know, plant panties under the passenger seat of his car? There were far simpler and much more credible explanations. Instead of heading for home, Brice turned the car in the opposite direction.

“Brice? What brings you to this neck of the woods?” Jimmy beckoned his friend into the house. “Are you slumming it today?”

Jimmy lived in a run-down neighbourhood where the crime rate was at least triple that of where Brice lived.

“You should put the top down.” Jimmy gestured to the car. “You might get someone taking a leak in it.”

“It’ll be okay. Listen, we have to find the blonde punk.”

“How?”

“We need to get prints off that CCTV image.”

“We can’t. I told you. I’ll get thrown out of uni if anyone knows I’ve got that. What’s happened?”

Brice brought Jimmy up to speed.

“It’s not funny!” Brice yelled.

“It really is. I wish I could have seen her face when she found them.”

Brice slammed his hand onto the table.

“Okay, okay. Sorry.” Jimmy was still fighting to hold back the laughter. How did you know it was the punk?”

“I saw her hanging around the car.”

“Why didn’t you grab her?”

“By the time I got there, she’d gone.”

“You can’t be sure it was her who planted them.”

“Who else would it have been?”

“You might have had Jeannie or Courtney in the love mobile.”

Brice glared at his friend.

“Okay! I was only joking. Look, I can’t get prints off the photo, but I’ll find a way to sort things out.”

“How?”

“You’re going to have to trust me. Give me a couple of days.”

Brice wasn’t happy, but what other option did he have?

Chapter 34

Kerry’s eyes were puffy and sore from all of the rubbing. She couldn’t face going home—couldn’t face her mum who would know instantly she’d been crying. The inevitable questions and
I told you so's
would be too much to bear. Why had she been so stupid? Why had she trusted him? No one could ever care for her—let alone someone as handsome and popular as Brice. Why had he done it? Had it been some kind of cruel game? Maybe it had been a dare. A challenge to see if he could bed the plain, quiet girl who sat all alone in the library. He’d been so convincing. For a while, she’d actually allowed herself to believe he wanted to be with her. How would she ever trust anyone again? That was an easy one to answer—she wouldn’t.

 At least she had something to take her mind off him for a while. Kerry had asked the librarian if she could use one of the computers. There were several free—the demand for them had dropped dramatically because most students preferred to use their own smartphones or tablets. She chose one tucked away in a corner where no one could easily look over her shoulder. She wasn’t sure where to start, but eventually found her way to one of the more popular genealogy web sites. There was a fee for in-depth reports, but simple registry searches: births, weddings and deaths were all free of charge. She began with her mother: Dawn Stafford, nee Miller. It took Kerry some time to find her way around the web site, and she had to consult the online help several times. Eventually, she managed to determine that her mother and father had married less than two months before Kerry had been born. They had divorced less than three years later. 

She still had no idea where either of her parents lived. The marriage and birth had been registered at Kilmain registry office—thirty miles south of Westchester. That was eighteen years ago. Kerry decided to work on the basis that they'd still be living in the Kilmain area, and to focus on her mother first. What name would she be using? Her married name? Probably not—it was more likely she'd have reverted to her maiden name. There was no indication her mother had ever remarried.

There were eleven D. Millers in the Kilmain telephone directory. Armed with a pocket full of change, Kerry found a telephone kiosk away from the main road.

“Hello?” a female voice said.

“I’m trying to contact a Dawn Miller.”

“There isn't anyone by that name here.”

“I found you in the phone book under D. Miller.”

“That’s my old man—Derrick.”

“Sorry to have troubled you.”

The second call drew a blank—no one picked up. The third call was answered by a Dawn Miller, but not
the
Dawn Miller. The next call was answered by a Mr Dexter Miller.

Kerry dialled the next number. After a few rings, a female voice answered.

“Hello?”

“I’m sorry to bother you. I’m looking for Dawn Miller.”

“Speaking.”

“My name is Kerry White. You don’t know me…”

“I’m not buying anything.”

“No. It’s nothing like that. I was adopted eighteen years ago. My birth mother’s name…”

The line went dead. Kerry stared at the phone. Had they been cut off, or had the woman hung up? She redialled the number. The woman picked up on the first ring.

“I think we were cut off,” Kerry managed to say before the line went dead again.

She stared at the phone. Had the woman hung up because she was annoyed by the cold call, or was there more to it? Kerry tried the same number several more times, but the call rang out.

For the next fifty minutes, Kerry worked her way through the names on the list, but so far had drawn a blank. There was only one number left to try. Before she could pick up the handset, the phone rang—making her jump. Why would someone call a phone box?

“Hello?” Kerry said—an air of caution in her voice.

“I’m sorry I hung up.”

Kerry recognised the woman’s voice.

“That’s okay.”

“I couldn’t speak while my partner was here. He’s gone out for a few minutes.”

“I understand. I was saying that I'm…”

“I’m the Dawn Miller you’re looking for.”

Kerry leaned back against the wall of the phone box. Her legs had gone to jelly.

“Are you still there?” the woman asked.

“Yes. Sorry. I just—err. It’s a bit of a shock.”

“For me, too. Would you like to meet up?”

“Hmm.” Kerry hadn’t thought this far ahead. “I suppose so… Yes, yes I do.”

“Can I call you back tomorrow to arrange something?”

“I’m in a phone box.”

“Do you have a mobile or land-line number?”

“No, sorry.”

“Where do you live?”

“Westchester.”

“I know Westchester. What about this Saturday? Could you meet me outside the museum—say eleven o’clock?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. See you Saturday.”

The line was dead, but Kerry continued to stare at the handset. She’d just spoken to her mother—her biological mother. Even though she’d received her adoption file, she hadn’t allowed herself to believe she'd actually be able to trace her parents. Less than a day later, she’d arranged a meeting with her mother.

Chapter 35

“Are you going out tonight?” Brice’s mother was standing in the doorway of his bedroom.

“No.” He glanced down at her skirt.

“What?” she said.

“Nothing.”

“Come on. Spit it out. What’s the matter?”

“Why can’t you wear something…?” He shook his head. “I don't know. Something more—”

“Do you want me to dress like an old woman?”

“Why can’t you just dress your age?”

“What’s wrong with this?”

“Forget it!” He’d had this same conversation a thousand times.

“I have a friend coming over in an hour,” she said.

“Who?”

“No one you know.”

“Who?”

“Sidney Lane.”

“Who the fuck is he?”

“Language. There’s no need for that.”

“So, who is he?” Brice demanded.

“I’ve already said—he’s a friend.”

“And you thought you’d bring him around here and fuck him?”

“That’s enough. I won’t put up with your foul mouth.”

“Forget it. I’m going out.”

Brice picked up his bag, and pushed past her.

“Don’t come back before eleven,” she called after him.

Brice phoned Jimmy, but the call went to voicemail. Jimmy never checked his messages, so it was pointless leaving one. Brice climbed into his car and drove. He had no idea where he was headed or how he ended up at Toppers.

“By yourself?” Courtney Jerome said.

Brice looked up. He’d deliberately picked a quiet alcove in the hope he’d be left alone with his thoughts.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

“Help yourself.” He didn’t have the energy to argue.

“Where’s your friend?” Courtney shuffled her chair closer to his.