The Sister Surprise by Abigail Mann (book series for 10 year olds .txt) 📕

Kian kicks at the gravel with his heel and tries to sit up straight. He scrubs his head with his knuckles like a gorilla, forearms propped on his knees. ‘So, Andrew’s your dad,’ he says, pointing to Moira. ‘And your dad.’ He points to me. I nod. ‘And you knew this before you got here?’

‘Yes, but only for a week or so. We did ancestry tests at work for a video I was presenting. I didn’t think anything would come up. Moira did one too. That’s how we were linked up, but the only thing I knew was her name and the village, that’s all.’

‘Aye, I did one a while back. A friend at college gave it to me for my birthday.’

I nod and swallow the prickly lump in my throat.

‘I know you grew up with Andrew, for a while anyway, but you have to understand that I came into this blind. I didn’t know anything; not his name or how he met my mum. I thought if I got some clarity first, then I’d have a handle on it and be able to introduce myself in the right way, but the more I’ve learned, the messier it’s got. I held back because I didn’t want to cause any more hurt, not after finding out how hard it’s been for your family and how much Jacqui has put up with because of him.’

‘I saw your video,’ says Moira.

‘The one with the, err … vomit?’ I ask. Moira nods, her expression unreadable. ‘Mm. Not my finest moment.’

‘A lot of this is not your finest moment,’ snaps Moira. As though shocked at her own brazenness, she turns on her heel to break eye contact.

‘Moira, wait!’

Moira turns back and takes one step closer, poised to speak. When she doesn’t, I fill in the gap.

‘I held back from saying anything because I really, truly care about you. I didn’t want to send you a message out of the blue and risk it being taken the wrong way. Then when I met you during the pig vaccination, it didn’t seem like the right time to bring it up.’

Moira swings her arms back and forth, her cheeks a little brighter.

‘Does my mum know?’

‘Honestly? I’m not sure. I’ve had suspicions because she’s been quite … standoffish around me ever since I got here. Eileen doesn’t seem to like me either, but that one’s more of a mystery.’

‘It’s because Ross fancies you and not her,’ chirps Kian, grinning.

‘Feeling better, are we?’ I ask. He gives me a thumbs-up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

‘I feel like I’m intruding, but I don’t think I can stand up yet,’ he says.

Moira takes a deep breath in and shakes her head. ‘This is mad.’

‘I know.’

‘And really weird.’

‘I know.’

‘And I’m still angry.’

‘Understandable.’

‘But …’ Moira pauses. Foot stomping and big-bellied whoops drift outside, popping the delicate bubble around us. ‘It’s completely amazing,’ she says, scuffing the floor.

I break into a smile.

‘Can I give you a hug?’ I ask.

‘I’m still mad.’

‘OK, yep, too much.’

She steps forward, her jacket saturated and stiff like the damp canvas of a tent.

‘Are you going to go inside?’ I ask.

‘Not sure. Not really in the mood.’

‘Neither am I,’ I admit.

‘I’ve got a lot to sort out in my head, but I think this one needs to go home,’ she says, gesturing to Kian.

He shakes his head in defiance before thinking better of it, circling round to a nod of agreement. We lift him up by his armpits and walk round the side of the hall like uncoordinated competitors in a three-legged race. Our reflection is mirrored in the window, lit alternately in pinks and purples from the mobile disco that accompanies the band.

When we reach the porch, Moira stops abruptly. Her hand grips the back of my jumpsuit so tight that it’s stretched across my chest. I follow her gaze to three men grouped around the open passenger door of a pick-up truck.

‘Are you OK?’ I ask. Moira blinks. Kian’s head slumps against my shoulder.

‘That looks like … No. It can’t be,’ she says.

One of the men licks the paper of a roll-up cigarette, sealing the tobacco inside. He slides it behind his ear and taps the arm of a tall man beside him, jerking his head in our direction. Realising they have an audience, the tall man turns to face us, his turtle-neck jumper strained over broad shoulders. His salt-and-pepper hair peeks from under a beanie hat. Although covered in week-old facial hair, the chin is distinctive as ever.

Moira drops Kian’s arm. I stumble, my hip jerked to one side as I try to distribute his weight in a way that’s easier to manhandle.

‘Dad?’ says Moira.

Chapter 33

‘Oh my God!’ I say, my hands jumping to my mouth. Unsupported, Kian slumps to the floor beside me. ‘Moira! That’s Andrew?’ I hiss.

‘Ava, chill out, he can hear you,’ says Moira, muttering through gritted teeth.

‘Why aren’t you freaking out?’ I ask, as it dawns on me that she’s not reacting like her father has just come back from the dead.

‘Why are you freaking out? Just say hello like normal and we’ll figure out how to do the introductions later.’

‘I can’t. Oh God. What the fuck? Moira, I thought—’ I grab her hand as she steps towards him. The door of the truck is slammed closed, as the motion sensor flicks off the outside lighting, the amber glow from a cigarette jumping at mouth height in the dark. ‘I thought he was in there,’ I say, gesturing behind me.

‘What, the ceilidh?’

‘No, the graveyard.’

‘What?!’ says Moira, turning towards me.

‘I thought he’d … passed away. Blown up. In the oil rig explosion? My mum said … Oh God, I feel light-headed.’

Moira pinches my arm. ‘Shhh, he’s coming, just—’

‘Guys, I think I’m going to be sick again,’ says Kian.

Andrew joins us underneath the porch light, his posture stooped and softer than I remember from the photograph. He wears jeans tucked into steel-capped work boots;