Read Page 52

“I’ll… bear that in mind,” I say, barely listening. “Come on!”

The coffee shop is all warm and aromatic, with a fabulous smell of coffee. There are spotlights dancing on the marble tables, and music playing, and a happy, cheerful buzz.Advertisement

“You see?” I beam at Jess. “Isn’t this nice? A table for me and my sister, please,” I add happily to a waiter standing by the door.

I so love saying that! My sister.

We sit down and I put all my shopping bags on the floor — and feel myself start to relax. This is better. In fact, this is what we should have done first of all.

A waitress who looks about twelve and is wearing a badge saying it’s my first day! approaches our table.

“Hi!” I greet her. “I’d like a cappuccino, please. We should be having champagne, really,” I can’t resist adding. “We’re long-lost sisters!”

“Wow!” says the waitress. “Cool!”

“I’ll just have some plain tap water, thanks,” says Jess, closing her menu.

“Don’t you want a nice frothy coffee?” I say in surprise.

“I don’t want to pay vastly inflated prices to a global moneymaking corporation.” She gives the waitress a severe look. “Do you think a 400 percent profit margin is ethical?”

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“Um…” The waitress looks stumped. “Did you want ice in your water?” she says at last.

“Have a coffee too,” I say quickly. “Go on.” I look at the waitress. “She’ll have a cappuccino.” I turn to Jess. “You get a free chocolate in the saucer!”

As the waitress scuttles away, Jess frowns.

“Do you know the real cost of making a cappuccino? It’s a few pence. And we’re being charged nearly two pounds.”

God, Jess has a bit of a thing about coffee, doesn’t she? But never mind. I’ll just change the subject.

“So!” I lean back and spread my arms. “Tell me all about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?” says Jess.

“Everything!” I say enthusiastically. “Like… what are your hobbies, apart from walking?”

She ponders for a few moments.

“I like caving,” she says at last, as the waitress puts two cappuccinos down in front of us.

“Caving!” I echo. “Is that where you… go into caves?”

Jess gives me a look over her cup.

“That’s basically it, yes.”

“Wow! That’s really…”

I’m struggling for words. What can I say about caves? Apart from they’re all dark and cold and slimy.

“That’s really interesting!” I say at last. “I’d love to go in a cave!”

“And of course rocks,” Jess adds. “That’s my main interest.”

“Me too! Especially great big shiny rocks from Tiffany’s!” I laugh, to show I’m joking, but Jess doesn’t react. I’m not entirely sure she got it.

“My Ph.D. is on the petrogenesis and geochemistry of fluorite-hematite deposits,” she says, showing more animation than she has all day.

I don’t think I understood one bit of that.

“Er… great!” I say. “So… how come you decided to study rocks?”

“My father got me into it,” says Jess, and her face relaxes into a smile. “It’s his passion too.”

“Dad?” I say in amazement. “I never knew he was into rocks!”

“Not your dad.” She gives me a scathing look. “My dad. My stepfather. The man who brought me up.”

Right.

Of course she didn’t mean Dad. That was really stupid.

Suddenly my head is full of questions.

“So… did your dad… did he always know that you…” I trail off, not quite knowing how to put it.

“My dad knew I wasn’t his, pretty much from the word go.” Jess is turning a spoon over and over in her fingers. “But he raised me all the same. He never treated me any different from my brothers.”

I dart a look at her averted face.

“Did you know?” I ask hesitantly. “That he wasn’t really your dad?”

“Yes. But we didn’t talk about it. He was my real dad, as far as I was concerned. Still is.”

“Didn’t you ever want to go looking for your… biological father?”

“I might have done.” She stops rotating the spoon. “Once. But then Mum died and Dad was all I had left. I didn’t need another dad. It was only when I found out about this blood disorder. I realized there could be people related to me, not knowing they were at risk. I felt responsible. It would have preyed on my mind.” She looks up. “You should get yourself tested, Becky.” pqdm.com