Not My Daughter

‘I just wanted to see you. You know about Alice?’

I stare at him in disbelief. Do I know about Alice? ‘If I didn’t, was that how you were going to tell me?’

‘I’m sorry.’ He runs a hand over his face. ‘I wasn’t thinking. It’s just so… crap, you know?’

‘Yes. I know.’ And crap is a massive understatement. I consider mentioning my brother, how they found out about Alice’s diagnosis, but then I decide there’s no point. It doesn’t change anything.

‘It’s just so hard to believe…’ Jack continues. ‘I mean, what are the chances? Both of us having this crap gene.’

‘Very slim, apparently.’ One in fifty thousand, or so the internet says, and Alice’s version is even rarer than that.

‘If we hadn’t…’ He swallows hard and looks at me. ‘If it hadn’t been both of us…’

‘I know.’ I torture myself with that thought enough; I don’t need Jack to say it. ‘How was anyone to know?’

‘I know. I know. It’s just so rough. I keep thinking about her. She’s such a cute kid.’

I feel a twitch pass across my face and I struggle to keep my voice even. ‘I wouldn’t know.’

Jack looks surprised. ‘You mean you haven’t seen her…?’

Does he actually not know that I’ve been estranged from Milly and Matt since that day? Is he so unbelievably clueless? I just shake my head, because I have no words.

‘I thought you guys would have made up, after all this time.’

‘It hasn’t happened that way.’ A pressure is building in my chest. ‘But you must not have kept in decent touch, if you don’t know that.’

He hangs his head a bit, shamefaced. ‘I moved back to France a few years ago… but I’ve come for visits. Milly and Matt brought Alice out one summer…’

And they must not have ever even mentioned me. I turn away, because I don’t want him to see my face. All of this hurts. I’ve missed so much, so many days out and dinners in and long, lazy holidays, and now it’s too late. I can’t stand the thought. I can’t stand to rewrite history in my mind, a montage of cosy moments where I stayed involved in Milly and Matt’s – and Alice’s – lives. Where I mattered.

‘How are you doing, Anna?’ Jack asks, his voice gentle. ‘I keep thinking of Milly and Matt, but then I realise this affects you as well. More than… well, more than anyone else, besides them, maybe. You loved Alice…’

An unruly sob escapes me and I press my fist to my mouth. I’ve cried enough in front of Jack Foster.

And yet I do cry, and he does see, as another sob breaks over me like a wave, and suddenly Jack’s arms are around me. He’s the last person I’d expect to turn to for comfort. The last person I’d expect to offer it.

‘I’m sorry, Anna,’ Jack murmurs as he strokes my hair. ‘I’m sorry for everything. I keep thinking back to that day, you know…’ Of course I know what day. ‘And wishing I could have acted differently. Been… more understanding. Shut my damn mouth.’

With what feels like immense effort, I step away from him as I wipe my eyes. ‘That’s in the past, Jack. Long in the past. It doesn’t matter anymore.’

‘I think it does.’ He gazes at me steadily. ‘If it hadn’t… if I hadn’t…’

‘Alice would still be ill. She’d still be dying.’ I make myself say the words, even though each one cuts me inside. ‘Nothing can change that.’

‘But you’d have known her,’ Jack says sadly. ‘You’d have been involved in her life, all along…’

Which is far too painful to think about, so I turn resolutely towards the future, what little of it there is. ‘I wish I could be involved now. Not just for my sake, but for theirs. They need support, Jack. This has got to be so hard, and they’re making it harder by keeping to themselves. Have you seen them? How are they coping?’

‘Coping is the word.’ He grimaces. ‘I don’t really know. Milly seems… manic, I suppose. And Matt barely talks. It’s been really rough on both of them.’

‘Do they have help? Parents, or people from school?’

‘A bit. Milly’s parents aren’t up for much and Matt’s and mine have never been too involved in, well, anything.’ He laughs, a humourless sound. ‘They have their own interests.’

‘Nice.’ I shake my head. ‘What about friends from school? Work?’

‘I don’t really know.’ He looks a bit shamefaced, and I wonder how much he’s helped. Has Jack ever been the kind of person to go the distance?