Blood Loss by Kerena Swan (good beach reads .txt) 📕

‘Mum wanted to trace an old friend and I’ve found her. I need to go now.’ I jump to my feet, sending the chair toppling over behind me. ‘Sorry.’ I run for the door.

‘What about walking Rex?’

‘I’ll call back later. I need to speak to Mum first.’

‘Winterbourne. Yes, that’s it. Jenna Winterbourne – what a lovely name. But how did you find it?’ Mum looks puzzled.

‘I found a website that offers free information about births in named towns within a timeframe.’

Mum gets up from the sofa and goes to the kitchen. I follow her and watch as she opens the fridge and pulls out the cheese. Her hands are shaking. I know she isn’t my mum now but I still think of her in that way. It’s too ingrained in me to let go of.

‘Do you want a sandwich?’ she asks.

‘I want to talk about Jenna Winterbourne.’

Mum gets a loaf of cut bread from the bread bin and reaches for the butter. She’s avoiding eye contact and her lips are pursed. In fact, she looks worried sick. Did she know something was amiss when she was handed back the wrong baby? Has something happened since then to make her realise? Oh my God!

‘You knew, didn’t you?’ My voice is low but my anger must be obvious.

‘Knew what?’ Mum licks her lips and reaches for the glass of vodka which is always to hand.

I pull her round to face me but her eyes slide away from my accusing gaze. ‘That there was a mix-up in the maternity unit and you took home the wrong baby.’

‘Of course I didn’t. I’d have remembered what my own baby looked like. I’m not stupid.’

‘Two babies, one incubator and no ID bracelets. No matching DNA. Work it out, woman! Or are you really that thick?’

I’m shouting now. I want to slap her, shake her, make her realise what she’s allowed to happen. My whole life has been miserable because of this. I’ve been cheated out of happiness.

Mum splutters a denial and I clasp my hands together to stop myself lashing out at her, then run to the kitchen to grab my car keys and purse. I slam the door as I leave. I toy with the idea of telling Mark what I’ve discovered – he’s probably got a computer at home where I can research this further – but decide against it. I don’t want to share this with him yet as he’ll ask loads of questions that I can’t answer, and our relationship is too new. I’ll find an internet café instead. There must be one around here somewhere.

I’m going to find you, Jenna Winterbourne. You’ve stolen my life.

Chapter 36

The Following September | Jenna

I’m sorry, Jenna,’ Lucy tells me. ‘I feel too ill and I don’t want to pass my germs onto Mum. The last thing she needs is a heavy cold.’

She does sound bunged up but anyone can fake a cold over the phone.

‘It might be hay fever,’ I say hopefully. She knows how long I’ve been planning to do this fun run with Nisha.

‘I know the difference,’ Lucy says with a sniff. ‘Maybe Grace will keep Mum company instead. I’ll call her now and ring you back.’

‘No. We can’t keep messing Grace around. I’ll call Nisha and cancel the run.’

‘Don’t be silly. You need a break. It’ll do you good to get out. I’ll call you back.’

I’m surprised at Lucy’s sudden concern for my well-being and didn’t think she was all that impressed when I told her about the charity run. I don’t believe she is that ill but at least she’s trying to arrange alternative help.

Mum might be all right alone for a few hours but I don’t want to risk it. l think of how frail she’s becoming already and shudder. It’s been, what, five weeks since her diagnosis? I can’t actually remember when she last had breakfast and increasingly she isn’t even getting up for lunch. I cringe as I remember how she only just made it to the bathroom in time earlier this morning. She’s so weak and wobbly when she first gets up. I might need to organise a commode.

While I wait for Lucy’s call I go to my bedroom where my costume hangs on the wardrobe door. It’s taken me ages to make it. Nisha and I have planned to go as sea nymphs and we’re wearing blue and green base layers covered with netting, tulle and seashells. I stroke a silk ribbon and run my finger around the shiny pink inside of a shell. It’s so beautiful and for a moment I feel a pang of longing to be burying my bare toes into white coral sand and staring at an aquamarine sea. I can’t think about travelling now, though. My life is all about Mum. Even this fun run is in aid of cancer research. It won’t help Mum but it might aid medical breakthroughs for future sufferers.

I’ve added streamers of green crepe paper to my dreadlocks to look like seaweed and tied in more seashells. They clatter together as I put my hair over my shoulder. I’m itching to put the costume on to complete the look. Come on Lucy. I snatch the phone up on the first ring.

‘Grace will be there in an hour. She can only stay until one, though, so you’ll need to get back.’

‘Not a problem.’

Nisha won’t mind that I won’t be able to go for a drink with her after the run. I thank Lucy and hang up then check the time. The run starts at eleven and Grace won’t be here until ten. That’s cutting it fine. I don’t want to miss the warm-up session. I haven’t done any training for this and I’ll probably suffer tomorrow.

I creep into Mum’s bedroom and listen. Her breathing is slow and even, and her eyes are closed. I check she has fresh water by her bed