Epilogue #2
It was three months later when Gemma received an email and a photo from her half-brother Ben, who had just turned twenty-four.
It turns out being found was just as thrilling as discovering Thames Treasure.
He seemed as overjoyed as she was at finding her.
His message was littered with words like ‘gas’ and ‘amped’ as if they were about to go off on an adrenalin-inducing quad bike adventure.
When she studied his picture, it was like looking at a taller, slimmer version of herself.
He angled his head as she did in photos, and he had a half-smile as if, like her, he didn’t feel comfortable revealing all his teeth all in one go.
Gemma got a rush of exhilaration. Here was a blood relative – her blood – on the page and in the flesh, who wanted to connect with her and, as it turned out, only minutes away in London.
Here was someone who’d be able to tell her first-hand what her birth mother was like.
It would be the closest she’d ever get to feeling whole.
Within forty-eight hours of his message, they’d arranged to meet in person and, on a cool spring evening after work, she nervously but eagerly met her half-sibling.
After they’d said their goodbyes and she was making her way back to the Tube, she called Laila.
‘I did it!’ she said. ‘Now I know how you must have felt meeting your mother again. The nerves.’
Laila screamed. ‘Come on, spill the tea! What was he like? Was he nice? Is he like you?’
Gemma took a breath. Where to begin? ‘He was nice, yes,’ Gemma said thoughtfully. ‘Earnest. Bright. He got a scholarship to go to university. He’s now finished his science degree and will soon start a summer placement at a biomedical company.’
‘Fancy,’ Laila said.
‘Not so much fancy as difficult to get into. But we gelled, despite the age difference.’
‘Yay. Did you find out anything more about your mum?’
‘Yes.’ Gemma swallowed. She now had answers, not all but some, and they made her want to cry and laugh at the same time.
‘Do you want me to come over?’ Laila quickly said.
‘Don’t be silly, it’s late.’
‘Okay, okay, but what did he tell you?’
Gemma perched on a brick wall. It felt as if she couldn’t process it all without sitting down. ‘He said that he only learnt about me when she – Claire – was in palliative care, with only days to live. Then, the following day she lost consciousness and died a couple of days later.’
‘So sad.’
‘He was stunned, understandably. Not even his father knew. She told him that she’d always wanted to tell him about me, except it was the fear of losing him and what she might discover about me that stopped her.
Apparently, she thought about me all the time and she urged him to try and find me, which was so lovely to hear, you can’t imagine—’
‘Oh, I can.’
‘He said that he did want to find me but he was also scared, so he didn’t do it.
In the end, it was his dad who made him realise that as he’s an only child, he has nothing to lose if he goes searching for his half-sister.
Putting myself on the register and including both my names made his job so much easier. ’
‘It was meant to be! Did you find out anything about your father?’
‘Unfortunately, that’s something I’ll never know.
Ben asked her who he was but all she said was that he was a boy she knew from school and he was never told about the pregnancy.
Her parents wouldn’t allow it. They were very conservative and not at all accepting of her predicament.
They wanted to brush it away as if it never happened, but she was four months pregnant when she found out and when the pregnancy could no longer be hidden, they sent her away to her aunt’s.
They organised for the baby – me – to go out for adoption as a newborn.
Even though “the system” was more encouraging than it had ever been in the past of women – girls – keeping their babies, Claire’s parents were not, and she wasn’t allowed to have a say. ’
Laila groaned in disapproval.
‘I know,’ Gemma agreed.
‘I’m sorry you’ll never find out about your dad.’
‘It’s okay. I’ve gained so much already, I guess I shouldn’t be greedy.’
Laila laughed. ‘Grandad is always plugging that Greek philosopher, Epicurus. “He who is satisfied with a little, is satisfied with nothing”,’ she said mimicking Timothy. ‘“Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not”. Blah blah blah.’
Gemma laughed. ‘It’s kind of true.’
‘I s’ppose. But just think about how much you can now learn about your birth mother. I mean, you are going to see Ben again?’
‘We agreed to. We both want it to work out, so here’s hoping.’
Gemma got up off the wall and resumed her walk to the Tube. She now couldn’t wait to get home and tell Nick. What’s more, she couldn’t wait to introduce Nick to her half-brother, Ben Reed.
When spring was turning into summer and Gemma was by the Thames mudlarking alone, she uncovered something she’d never found before.
It was a very worn but unmistakeable silver shilling that had been bent out of shape.
She lifted it from the river. It was wet and cold and gritty.
She washed it in the water. There was nothing engraved on it.
But then, there usually wasn’t. Old-fashioned love tokens were simply coins that had been misshapen by a lover to be given to the one they loved.
If the affection was reciprocated, the token was kept. If not, it was discarded.
Gemma wiped the coin dry on her jeans and slipped it into a pocket.
She knew just who she was going to give it to.