LITMIR.BIZ

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It’s a small room at the front of the house with a small desk, bookcase and shelving. Nothing too fancy. It’s a handy space if I need to work on anything in the evenings or weekends, although I try to avoid that whenever possible.

      I sit at the desk and take a sheet of writing paper. Despite Leonard’s warning about keeping home and work life separate, throughout the day I’ve been thinking about what to say to Alice.

       Dear Alice

       Delighted. Overwhelmed. Ecstatic. Euphoric. All these words can’t sum up how happy I was when Mum told me you had been in contact. It’s unbelievable! I keep pinching myself to check it’s not a dream.

       I have thought about you so very often. My last memory of you is leaving with Dad, your little face looking out of the car window as it drove off down the drive.

       I’ve never given up hope of finding you again and now you’ve found us. All this time I’ve often wondered where you are and what you’re doing.

       Thank you so much for contacting us. I can’t wait to hear from you and to, hopefully, see you again. My darling little sister, you’ve come back to us.

       All my love

       Clare

       xxx

      I keep it simple. There’s so much I want to say, but can’t put it all down on paper. I want to see her in real life. To hold her and for me, Mum and Alice to all be together again. Luke’s warning hovers in the background but I push it aside. We have Alice back and, at the moment, that is all that matters.

      I fold the letter in half and, retrieving Mum’s letter from the sitting room, I slip mine inside and seal the envelope, leaving it on the side ready to post tomorrow. A warm feeling of happiness stirs inside. I kiss my fingertips and transfer the kiss to Alice’s name on the envelope, smiling as I do so.

      ‘You’ve found us, Alice,’ I whisper, before turning the light off and heading up to bed.

      The following morning is a scramble. I finally manage to haul myself out of bed on the third alarm. I’m never like this in the mornings.

      Breakfast goes by in a blur as I play catch-up, but can’t quite make up the time. I’m saying hurried goodbyes and rushing out the door with that feeling that I’ve forgotten something.

      I start the engine and run through my checklist. Phone. Bag. Purse. Briefcase. Yep, I’ve got all them.

      It’s not until I reach the office and the postman walks up to the door, pushing his trolley, and takes out the mail, passing it to me, that I suddenly remember.

      ‘Shit,’ I say out loud. The postman looks taken aback. ‘Sorry, not you. I’ve just remembered I’ve forgotten to pick up a letter from home. Bugger.’

      I send Luke a quick text message asking him to post Mum’s letter to Alice.

      ‘You’re looking a bit flustered this morning,’ says Tom, as I hand the mail over to the receptionist.

      ‘You know how to make a girl feel better,’ I say. ‘Why don’t you make yourself useful and put the kettle on?’

      Tom gives a mock salute, clicks his heels together and marches off towards the kitchen. ‘Yes, ma’am.’

      The coffee tastes good. I like a cup of tea at home, but at work I tend to thrive on the coffee buzz. ‘It always tastes nicer when someone else makes it,’ I say gratefully to Luke as we stand in the kitchen. ‘Thanks for that.’

      ‘Can’t have Mrs Calm-And-Collected Tennison all flustered and dishevelled, can we?’

      ‘Hmm. Feeling the effects of going through the proverbial emotional wringer,’ I say. My phone bleeps and I check my messages. It’s Luke telling me not to worry, he has it all under control. I put the phone down on the worktop.

      ‘You know you can talk to me, if you need to,’ says Tom. His voice is soft and I appreciate his kindness.

      ‘I feel like I’ve been wishing for this all my life, for Alice to get in touch,’ I say, looking down at the dark-brown liquid in my cup and breathing in the aroma of the coffee beans. ‘You know when you’re a kid and you blow out the candles on your birthday cake and you make a wish? Or at New Year when the clock strikes midnight or when you throw a coin into a magic wishing well? All those times, I’ve always wished for the same thing, that we would find Alice or she would find us, that someday we’d be together again as a family.’ I pause as I take a sip of my coffee to buy some time to blink back the tears.

      Tom puts his cup down and rubs the top of my arm with his hand. ‘Is it a case of being careful what you wish for?’

      ‘No. Yes. Sort of.’ I can feel the strength to keep it together seeping out from me, as if Tom’s hand is absorbing all my powers of self-control. ‘Now it’s happened, I’m … I’m scared.’

      Tom takes the cup from me and rests it next to his. He steps closer and puts both arms around me. ‘It’s okay to be scared. It’s a big life-changing event. You have to try to harness that fear and turn it into a positive emotion.’ He rubs his hand up and down my back. ‘And, just for the record, this is a hug between friends. Thought I’d clarify that before you jump away from me like you’ve been electrocuted.’

      I laugh into his shirt, grateful the mounting tension has been broken. ‘As if I’d do anything like that.’

      Tom gives me a squeeze before stepping back, his hands moving to mine. ‘Honestly, Clare, I know what all this means to you. I haven’t forgotten. How could I?’

      I smile and nod. ‘I know and I do appreciate you being here.’

      ‘I’ve always been here for you. I haven’t forgotten all those hours we spent huddled round your laptop, trying to trace Alice. And those phone calls! Do you remember the private investigator we hired to organise a search for her?’

      I nod and smile at the memory. ‘That first one was bloody useless. What a waste of money that was.’

      ‘If only we’d known then that your dad had changed his and Alice’s surname.’

      ‘I can’t believe that having that one single piece of knowledge would have, potentially, made a difference so much sooner. Looking for Alice Kennedy was a complete waste of time and money,’ I sigh. ‘Now, if we’d been looking for Alice Kendrick …’

      ‘Hey, let’s not go there. It’s not constructive. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned it.’

      ‘No, it’s okay, really. And please don’t apologise. You’re absolutely right, bemoaning it all won’t actually help now. I said as much to Mum. I should start taking my own advice. We mustn’t get hung up on the past.’

      We stand there for a moment, holding hands, looking at each other. I’m aware of Tom’s thumb stroking across my knuckles, a gesture from yesteryear. My last comment was referring to attempts to find Alice, but now I wonder if Tom is reading more into it. I go to speak, but change my mind, aware that I could make a complete arse of myself again. More likely it’s me who is reading too much into everything.

      Tom keeps his eyes on mine when he speaks. ‘I meant what I said, about being here for you. I do understand. I’ve been down that road with you.’ His voice is quiet and low. ‘Practically all your life you’ve had this weight on your shoulders and it’s now being lifted; you’re bound to need time to adjust. Your world has been turned upside down and it will take a while for you to consolidate everything not just your feelings and emotions but your sense of place in your family. Try to be less uptight. Relax. Let Alice back into your life.’

      ‘You make it sound so easy.’ I break eye contact and attempt to withdraw my hands, but Tom tightens his grip.

      ‘Hey, hey. Come on.’ He pulls me back into his embrace. ‘You

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