Coincidences (21 page)

‘Who is this?’ he asked, brusquely.

Alice forced the words from her
mouth: ‘Um... can I speak to Mr. Forester, please?’

‘Speaking,’ said the voice.

Alice’s mouth fell open.

‘Who is this?’ he said.

‘Um, I’m Alice,’ she said,
finally finding her tongue.

‘Who?’

Her name didn’t have the effect
on him that she had secretly hoped it would. He did not remember her. He had
not been waiting for her to call him all these years. She felt disappointed,
somehow, but then realised that she was expecting too much...
Alice is quite
a common name, I suppose
, she thought.

‘I’m Alice Turnbull. Your
daughter.’ There, she had said it. That would leave no room for doubt.

There was silence on the other
end of the phone line.

‘Well, I’m not really sure what
to say,’ came the eventual response.

‘I’ve been looking for you for a
while,’ she said, daring to hope that he cared, and holding on to the belief
that this was her father she was speaking to.

‘Alice, I think this is quite
inappropriate. Why have you contacted me after all this time? Wait... is
Stephanie okay?’

‘Yes,’ said Alice, surprised at
his question. The last fragment of doubt was now erased.
It’s him. It’s my
dad.
A shiver left her with goose bumps.

‘Well then, why are you
calling?’

Why?
Alice frowned.
‘Well, I’d like to meet you,’ she said in a small voice.

‘Meet me? Why?’

He wasn’t making this easy for
her. She had hoped he would take over the conversation, invite her over, ask
her how she was. There was none of that.

‘I should think that’s obvious,’
she said, offended.

‘Why? What is obvious? Alice....
you’re twenty-one years old, and we’ve never kept in touch. Why on earth would
you want to meet me? It’s absurd. I have a different life now; a new family. I
don’t want to upset them by raking up the past. I’m pleased to have heard from
you, so I can now rest easy that you’re okay, but I really don’t see any point
in us meeting.’

Alice felt the tears in her
eyes. She held them back. ‘I... I know about your new family. I’ve met Jane. Do
you have any other children?’

‘Oh my God! What have you said
to Jane?’

His response came as a shock to
her.
Stephanie was right.
He doesn’t want to know me.
A tear
trickled down her cheek and she covered the mouthpiece on the phone momentarily
as she sniffed back the flood that was due to arrive.

‘I haven’t said anything to
Jane,’ said Alice morosely. ‘Well, when I met her, I said that I thought we had
the same dad; but I thought your name was Roger, and she said her dad was
called Ken, and... well, she thought I was crazy. You... You’ve never told her
you were married before—’

‘Why would I? That’s part of
history as far as I’m concerned.’

‘And me?’ said Alice, feeling
unable to stop her words. ‘What about me? Am I part of history, too?’

‘Please believe me, I never
meant to hurt you. When I left Stephanie, I left that part of my life behind;
and yes, that included you. I’ve never been a father to you. You’re grown up
now. You don’t need me. It would hurt too many people if we met up now. Please
stay away.’

‘But what about Jane?’

‘What about her?’

‘She might get curious now that
she’s met me. I mean, we look alike.’

‘Well, of course you look alike,
you’re—’

‘Sisters. Yes. And I think Jane
has the right to know she has an older sister, and I’d like to know her.’

‘What? Look... Okay, you’re
sisters, but that’s all. You’re strangers. Face it, Alice. You grew up apart.
You’d have nothing in common.’

‘Actually, both me and Jane are
studying law; so we’re not that different.’

‘I mean it, Alice. Stay away.’

‘Why are you being like this?’

‘Have you spoken to Stephanie
about contacting me?’ he said.

‘She doesn’t approve of me
getting in touch. In fact, she told me you probably wouldn’t want to know me.’

‘There you go, then. You should
take her advice. Just pretend I don’t exist. Pretend I’m dead. I don’t care.
Believe me, it’s for the best.’ With that he hung up the phone.

Alice looked at the phone in her
hand as the buzzing sound took the place of her father’s voice. She frowned.
There were still so many questions in her head. Why had he been so cruel? He
didn’t care about her at all. Were there even more secrets? Perhaps he didn’t
know that she knew about the surrogacy. Maybe that was why he didn’t want to
meet her—he didn’t want to have to be the one to tell her. Eventually, Alice
replaced the handset onto the phone and shook her head. She had started the
phone call with such hope.

She felt as though a door had
been closed in her face and she was left out in the cold, tired and scared,
with no one to turn to. The icy greyness of her new environment was too much to
bear. She had reached out but had been rejected. She could hold back her tears
no more. They began to flow.

Chapter Twelve

Friday 22nd August 1997

As Alice sat eating her corn flakes the next morning,
after a sleepless night, she mulled over the conversation she’d had with her
father the night before. It was as if it were a recording being constantly
replayed in her mind, over and over again. She remembered every word and was
desperately trying to analyse why he didn’t want to see her. Could it really be
as simple as him not wanting to tell her about the surrogacy agreement? Or
maybe he had been shocked at hearing the voice of the child he had abandoned
some twenty years before. His reaction would not have been thought through.
Perhaps he was just feeling guilty about deserting her and Stephanie, and he
did not want to be confronted about it, so he preferred to cut ties rather than
face up to the wrong he had done. Alice went over and over the possible reasons
as she tossed and turned in bed, and now as she sat at the kitchen table she
was again thinking the same things. She had not reached a conclusion, and the
incessant repetition in her head was threatening to drive her crazy.

She finished her breakfast and
went over to the fridge to pour a glass of orange juice. Then she saw the
photograph that Stephanie had given her, the one where her father was holding
her in his arms and smiling. Alice’s eyes were transfixed on the photograph
that now hung from a magnet on the fridge. He seemed happy to be a father in
that picture. What had gone wrong?

Maybe if he saw me?
The
thought entered her mind.
Maybe if he saw how similar I look to Jane... He
couldn’t turn his back on his own flesh and blood, could he?
She decided
that the best thing to do would be to go and see him. A phone call was so
impersonal. It was also possible, she thought, that he may be regretting
telling her to stay away. She refused to believe that her own father just
didn’t want to know her.

Alice went into her bedroom to get her handbag. She
looked out of the window; it seemed like a warm day, but she decided to take
her denim jacket and umbrella, just in case. Exiting her bedroom, she took a
deep breath and walked over to the side-table next to the sofa. There it was:
his address. She could not believe that she was actually going to do this—going
to visit her father. Lingering doubts crept in again as she recalled the way he
had spoken to her, but she tried to put that to the back of her mind. She would
give him the benefit of the doubt. He had not been expecting her call; maybe he
would be nicer to her now he had had time to think about it.

As she stepped outside, her
thoughts turned to Stephanie. Stephanie had always been there for her in the
important times; this was one of those times. She felt she owed it to Stephanie
to let her know that she was going to visit her father. She recalled their last
few conversations and how Stephanie had tried to warn her about him.
She was
right about him
, thought Alice, but again she pushed the thought away.
I
have to meet him, at least once.

She arrived at the hairdressing
salon at 12 noon. Stephanie was busy blow-drying a client’s hair, so she
suggested that Alice wait for her and they would go to lunch when she finished.

Alice went into the kitchen area
at the back of the salon to get a glass of water. Rosie, one of the
hairdressers, was in there. The staff at the salon knew Alice quite well as she
often visited. When she was younger, she used to go there to help with sweeping
the floor, making tea for clients, etc.

Rosie Jones had been working at
the salon for as long as Alice could remember. She was about Stephanie’s age,
but always appeared to be trying to look younger than her years. Rosie wore
short skirts and lots of brightly coloured make-up. Today her bleached-blonde
hair had streaks of purple running through it. The last time Alice had seen
her, her hair had been black; and once, Alice had hardly recognised her when
she’d walked into the salon—Rosie had completely straightened her naturally
curly hair and dyed it bright red.

Rosie and Stephanie were good
friends. Even though they worked together all day, Rosie would often visit
Stephanie at home, and Stephanie and Alice had been to Rosie’s house a few
times. Rosie always seemed to be up to date with what Alice was doing even when
she hadn’t seen her for ages.

‘You’ll be going back to
university soon, won’t you?’ said Rosie, after they’d said hello. She spoke as
if she wasn’t really expecting an answer, then continued: ‘My Sandra will be
going to university soon. She’s studying French. She wants to be a teacher. I
don’t know if teaching is such a great job these days. Children don’t respect
teachers like they did when I was young. Well, even in my day some of the teachers
used to have a hard time. But Sandra’s made up her mind. Are you enjoying your
law degree?’

‘Um... yes. It’s quite
interesting. There’s a lot of reading involved.’

‘You’ll probably end up being a
famous lawyer. Your mum is always going on about how clever you are.’ Rosie
smiled and dunked a biscuit in her tea, losing half of it in the cup. ‘Oops,’
she said, as she desperately tried to retrieve the biscuit with a teaspoon.

Alice smiled, trying to pretend
she hadn’t noticed. ‘Oh, my mum always exaggerates.’ The words “my mum”
resounded in Alice’s head, and her face flushed with colour. Her mind was
invaded by the unwelcome thought that Rosie might know about the surrogacy.
Alice wondered whether all of Stephanie’s friends knew.

‘Oh, well, I’d better get back
to work,’ said Rosie.

Alice smiled at her and breathed
a sigh of relief.

She followed Rosie out into the
reception area of the salon.

Rosie greeted her next client,
an elderly woman who wanted her hair dyed.

Sitting in the reception area,
Alice flicked through some magazines. She would have to talk to Stephanie about
getting some new magazines for the salon, she mused; all the ones on the table
were at least a year old, and there was one battered copy of
She
that
was dated May 1992.

Finally, Stephanie finished with
her client and approached Alice. ‘Hello, darling,’ she said, a half-smile on
her face. Her brow furrowed, as if she were unsure how Alice would treat her.
Or perhaps, she was picking up a feeling that Alice wanted to talk to her about
her father again. Stephanie always seemed to know what Alice was thinking.

They went to a café close to the
salon. As it was a sunny day, they sat outside.

‘So, how have you been, Alice?’
asked Stephanie after they settled down to eat their lunch.

‘Fine,’ said Alice. ‘I’ve found
my dad,’ she said, thinking now was as good a time as any to break the news.
She braced herself for the response.

‘You’ve found him?’ Stephanie
almost screamed the words, startling a pigeon that had approached their table
looking for crumbs.

Alice closed her eyes briefly
and then continued: ‘I’ve got his address and telephone number. It’s amazing
because he only lives in Finchley. It’s so close, isn’t it? I couldn’t believe
it.’ She hoped that if she kept talking, it would be easier for Stephanie to
digest the information.

Stephanie was looking at her
with wide eyes and an open mouth as if she had been frozen in time. When Alice
fell silent, Stephanie shook her head slightly as if she didn’t really believe
what she was hearing. ‘Um...’ she began, ‘so, he’s moved back to London, then.’
She appeared nervous; fidgety. She put the sandwich she was holding onto her
plate as if she had lost her appetite. ‘When we got divorced he was living in
Oxford. I thought he’d still be there.’

‘No, he lives in Oakview Road,
number twenty-seven.’

‘Oakview Road,’ said Stephanie,
automatically repeating the words.

‘Yes, it’s quite close to
Finchley Central Station.’

Stephanie nodded and picked up
her sandwich again. Alice wasn’t sure, but she thought she could see tears in
her eyes.

She watched as Stephanie took a
bite of her sandwich.

‘I spoke to him on the phone
last night,’ she said, hoping it wasn’t too soon to tell her that.

Stephanie blinked and her eyes
widened in surprise. ‘Y... You spoke to him?’

‘Yes, he was a bit surprised to
hear from me.’ Alice’s fingers played with the napkin in front of her on the
table as she spoke. ‘Well, he would be, wouldn’t he?’ she added, faking a
laugh.

Narrowing her eyes, Stephanie
frowned. ‘Wh... What did he say?’

‘I’m going to visit him today,’
said Alice, evading the question.

‘That is surprising!’
Stephanie’s eyes were wide. ‘You mean he’s invited you?’

‘Well, no, he hasn’t exactly
invited me. But as I say, it was a shock for him to hear from me like that, so
he didn’t offer for me to visit. But I think it would be the right thing to
do—to go and visit him. I mean, it’s much easier to talk to someone face to
face rather than over the phone... I’m sure he’ll be pleased to see me if I
go.’ She knew she was rambling, but she was trying to convince herself as much
as Stephanie.