Someone Like me

by Lesley Cheetham

  She shrugged. ‘It’s my choice.’

  I put my head in my hands.

  ‘This is mad. What am I doing here?’ The sun had gone behind a cloud now. I pulled my jacket tighter around myself.

  ‘You’re shivering,’ Malika said. ‘Let’s go back to the hotel.’

  ‘When did you get here?’

  ‘Only this morning. We’ve been staying with mum’s friends in Lille for the past month. This is only my second visit to Paris.’ She smiled at me. I hesitated, then smiled back.

  ‘Come on,’ she said, getting up off the bench.

  ‘Wait,’ I said.

  ‘What is it?’

  I closed my eyes, then opened them slowly.

  ‘This isn’t a dream,’ I said. ‘I wouldn’t believe it only … you look like Michael. It must be true. I really do have a sister.’

  She laughed. ‘Of course it isn’t a dream. If it is I don’t ever want to wake up.’ She held out her hand. I stared at it for a moment, then allowed her to enclose her fingers around mine and pull me up.

  CHAPTER 20

  My room had a view over the rooftops of Paris, lots of different shapes. A large gold coloured statue standing up high dominated the skyline. I lay down on the bed, shattered. The window was slightly open and the occasional voice drifted up from the street below. I couldn’t be bothered to unpack. Malika’s room was next door, and Michael and Sara’s the other side. There was a knock at the door. I dragged my heavy limbs over to the door and opened it. Malika followed me back in.

  ‘Do you want to come downstairs? There’s a café – you must be hungry. Maman and Papa are down there.’

  My appetite had disappeared the moment I first set eyes on Michael.

  ‘OK,’ I said. ‘Let me just do something with my hair.’ I took out my hair brush and attempted to drag some sort of style to my uneven locks. ‘What’s your hair like?’

  She unfastened her scarf. Her hair tumbled past her shoulders, thick black and wavy.

  ‘It’s lovely,’ I said.

  ‘It’s boring,’ she said. ‘Yours is . . . unusual, different.’

  ‘Stop being polite. I took out my bad mood on it yesterday. It was red, but I changed it back to brown.’

  Yesterday! That seemed like a lifetime away.

  ‘What is it like where you live? Do you have a stepdad?’

  ‘Don’t you know anything about me?’ She shook her head, refastening her scarf back around her head. It suited her. I wished I had a scarf to cover mine up with.

  ‘There’s just me and Mum, we live in London. Michael left her when I was a baby. She doesn’t have anything to do with him. She’s working in New York for a few days.’

  ‘It’s really strange,’ she said, ‘that your mother would allow you to come, don’t you think? Did she mind?’

  ‘It was my decision. I’ve always hated him too, for leaving us, but when he said he wanted to see me – I’ve always been intrigued, wondering what he was like, why he left, and …’ I bit down on my lip. I couldn’t tell her my real reason for wanting to see him . . . ‘well he is my dad.’

  ‘Did he get in touch with your Mum, or was it the other way around?’

  ‘Michael got in touch with Mum because he needed some papers. He came down to London to see her. I know that for a fact, it was in May.’

  ‘I wonder if Maman knew.’ She looked thoughtful for a moment, then jumped to her feet. ‘Shall we go downstairs?’ We waited outside the lift. I watched her, fascinated. She turned to me.

  ‘I’m glad you know, that you came. I want to know everything about you.’ I wished she wasn’t being so nice. I didn’t want to like her but it was hard not to.

  I checked my phone on the way down in the lift, but there was only one message from Mum asking me if I’d arrived safely. I sent a quick reply. Sara and Michael were seated in the café, talking. Sara stood up as we approached.

  ‘Jasmine, how are you feeling? Would you like something to eat?’ I shook my head. ‘Just a coke please.’ Malika asked for a sandwich and Sara placed the orders.

  ‘I am so sorry,’ she said, ‘it must have been a terrible shock for you, to find out that you have a sister like that.’ She glared at Michael and I realised she was annoyed with him too. He poured himself a glass of water, then came over when he saw me looking at him.

  ‘Jasmine,’ he said. ‘I’m so sorry – for everything – maybe one day you’ll be able to forgive me.’

  A waiter arrived with three large baguette type sandwiches on a tray.

  ‘Mine’s cheese,’ said Malika, ‘we can share if you want.’

  My stomach had started growling at the sight of the food. I was hungry after all. Malika pushed the sandwich towards me and I took a bite of it, the soft brie melting in my mouth. Sara began to outline the ideas she had for places for us to visit. As she talked I took the opportunity to watch Michael. The beard made him look older. Had he grown it to make himself look different? He looked jumpy, uncomfortable.

  As I watched him it was hard to keep images of Miriam Jackson from flashing into my mind. Why hadn’t he stayed to report the crime?

  My phone buzzed. Mum. She was off to America the next day. As I started to reply my fingers froze mid-air – did Mum know about Malika? I stared down at the screen, anxious for none of them to see how I was suddenly feeling. Mum’s face as she waved me off at the Eurostar terminal filled my mind, she was trying to tell me something important … surely she couldn’t have known?

  ‘Does Mum know about Malika?’ The words blurted out of my mouth. I watched Michael’s face. He glanced at Sara, then nodded. I tried to breathe, but the air caught in my throat.

  ‘Jasmine, of course she knew.’

  ‘What do you mean, of course?’ I spat the last two words at him. All the hatred I’d ever felt for him came rushing to the surface.

  ‘Jasmine,’ Sara said, reaching out to touch my arm. I shook it off.

  ‘I’m tired,’ I said. I stood up and left the room.

  Mum rang later that evening.

  ‘Hey Jas,’ she said. ‘How was the journey?’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘Tell you what, dear? Jasmine what are you talking about?’

  ‘About my half-sister of course! It’s just been the tiniest shock! How long have you known?’

  She sighed. ‘I’ve always known. Your father was away working in France and he met Sara on one of those trips. I knew straight away there was something going on; he told me he’d end it but then he found out she was pregnant. I threw him out. You were only tiny. How could he?’ I heard the familiar sound of a bottle being opened, liquid sliding into a glass.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me before?’

  A long silence filled the miles between us.

  ‘I had a breakdown after he’d left. I was still in love with him and I was devastated. Your Gran – his own mother – was so disgusted with him she moved in with me to help look after you. I shut out all knowledge of Michael and his new family, it was the only way I could cope. I know I should have told you, especially when I knew you were going to meet him, but, well, I ran out of time.’ Her voice trailed off. She took a large swallow.

  ‘By the way,’ she said, ‘a boy called round this afternoon.’

  ‘A boy? Who?’

  ‘He said his name was… hang on I’ve written it down somewhere…’ I heard her put the phone down then a crash as something dropped to the floor and Mum cursing in the background.

  ‘Mum?’

  ‘I’m here,’ she said, her words slightly slurred. ‘Khaled,’ she said, ‘Khaled, that’s who he was. He’s very handsome Jasmine, you’ve been keeping him quiet haven’t you?’

  ‘For goodness’ sake, Mum,’ I said. ‘He’s in Mark’s band.’

  ‘There’s no need to be like that. Oh look at the time, I’ll have to go now darling, Clare wants me to call her before I go. Goodnight darling, sleep well. I’ll ring you tomorrow.’

  I was awo
ken by a whooshing noise from outside in the street. I had no idea where I was. I propped myself up in bed and looked around the unfamiliar room. Everything was white. I was in France. I lay back down again, memories flooding in. Someone tapped lightly on the door. I opened it to reveal Malika carrying two cups in her hand.

  ‘Room service,’ she said. I couldn’t help smiling, I had a sister. She sat down on the end of the bed and handed me a paper cup.

  ‘There’s a McDonalds on the corner.’ she said.

  I propped myself up and drank some coffee. It tasted good.

  ‘What would you like to do today? Maman says I can show you around, be a tourist. Would you like that?’

  ‘Just the two of us?’ I asked.

  She nodded. ‘Papa wants you to have some time to yourself, think about things a bit. But if you want to be on your own…’

  ‘No,’ I said.

  ‘He says you have friends in Paris, on the Champs-Elysées, do you want to meet up with them?’

  I shook my head, embarrassed. I’d forgotten that I had said that.

  ‘Another day, maybe.’

  ‘It’s very smart around there you know,’ said Malika, ‘who are they?’

  ‘Forget it,’ I said sharply. A shadow crossed her eyes and I hated myself.

  ‘I’d rather get to know you,’ I said. ‘Where are we going today?’

  Malika didn’t know Paris well, but she knew a lot about it. We spent the whole day getting on and off the tourist bus, tramping around looking at buildings. I saw the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame and the Louvre, which I recognised from the cover of my school text book. After a couple of hours I was hungry and fed up with walking. Malika suggested we take some food down to the river. We pooled our money and bought two ham and cheese baguettes and two cans of coke, then went down a steep staircase to the side of the river Seine. The river was busy, there was a constant stream of tourist boats going by.

  ‘I like walking,’ she said. ‘I walk around a lot, sit outside in cafes and watch people. Paris is great for that.’ She opened her bag and pulled out a sketchpad. ‘This is what I like to do,’ she said shyly, ‘would you like to see?’

  She passed me the sketchpad which was full of sketches of buildings, people, and street scenes.

  ‘You did these?’ I asked. ‘They’re brilliant. Look at that, it’s where we are now.’ I pointed to a drawing of the river, the old majestic buildings on the opposite bank. She nodded. ‘I did that last time I was here.’ She took the book and flicked through to a drawing of a man and handed it to me. It was Michael. I gasped. The likeness was amazing. I closed the book quickly.

  ‘It’s difficult for you, coming here, isn’t it?’ she asked, ‘seeing Michael again, finding out about me.’

  ‘We could have been a normal family,’ I said, fixing my eyes on a passing boat, people waving, getting smaller and smaller as they disappeared from sight. ‘Mum, Dad and me. I used to moan about not having a brother or sister but I had my friends to play with. It was Mum that was difficult to deal with. He ruined her dream of a family life; simple as that. It was easier for her to banish him from her memory. Mum wanted me to forget that I had a Dad and I wanted to remember him. Mum never got over him leaving. Everything is his fault. She works too much, she drinks too much, she’s never at home. And then Gran got ill.’ I swallowed hard, flinching at the memory. ‘So now it’s just me and Mum rattling around together. Then out of the blue she tells me Michael has been in touch! Can you imagine?’ I stood up and started pacing up and down, agitated. ‘And now I arrive here and discover that he has another daughter, barely younger than me.’ My voice was getting louder but I couldn’t stop myself. ‘He was seeing your mum when he was with us… no wonder Mum hates him.’

  I sat back down on the bench and put my head in my hands. Malika put her arm around me. I shook it off.

  ‘Jasmine,’ she said. ‘Papa is a coward. I think he kept away for your mum’s sake – he knew it was too painful

  for her. I always suspected he was hiding something.’

  ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘He always refused to speak about the time before he met Maman. I knew he had been married before, that’s all. I don’t know anything about his parents, where he came from in England, it’s all so strange. I have so many unanswered questions. That’s why my identity is so important to me. I need to know who I am, it’s all I have.’

  ‘I get that,’ I said, thinking of Sadie for the first time in ages. ‘Sometimes I have no idea who I am.’

  She put her hand on my arm and this time I let it rest there. ‘We need each other,’ she said. ‘I’m starting to realise that Papa creates his own problems wherever he goes, so try not to take it personally.’

  A passenger boat went by, a line of children waving from the top deck. Malika waved back.

  We spent the afternoon at the Pompidou Centre, the strangest yet most interesting building I had ever seen. Afterwards we sat outside, watching a street busker entertaining the crowd. Malika got her sketch pad out, stroking her pencil across the page, bringing the crowd to life. Today she was wearing a red headscarf. A couple of people stood behind her, watching her draw. I was proud of her. She chewed on her lip, concentrating hard, as she recreated the scene in front of her, oblivious to the people observing her.

  By the end of the afternoon I had come to a decision. I was going to tell Malika everything about Michael and his appearance on Crimewatch and what I had uncovered so far. There were too many questions going round in my head and I had a feeling my sister would be able to help me fill in the answers.

  CHAPTER 21

  Back at the hotel later that afternoon I had some time to myself before dinner. I went down to the hotel café and logged onto the internet. First I checked my emails. There were two, one from Fiona and one from Tess. I opened Fiona’s first:

  Hi Jasmine,

  Have you found out anything about Khaled yet? I texted him and told him I knew he was going out with Miriam.

  Fiona

  What had she gone and done that for? I noticed she hadn’t asked me about my trip. I was kidding myself that we were ever going to be friends. Tess had a lot more to say in her email:

  Hi Jas,

  How was the journey? France? Your old man? Is he still alive after meeting you? There have been a few developments here. Khaled came over for a rehearsal and I talked to him after and told him I knew that he had been going out with Miriam. OMG!! I know, yes I really did say that. I didn’t tell him how I knew and I could tell he wasn’t very happy cos he went all sulky after that. He said I’d better not tell. Also he said he hadn’t spoken to the police because they didn’t know he was her boyfriend. Can you believe that? Helen still hasn’t told them – I suppose there’s no reason why she should. And before you ask OF COURSE I didn’t tell him about Helen – or that you and

  Fiona know about it.

  Reply immediately!

  Tess

  Hi Tess,

  All OK here, just a quick update on the detective front. Fiona’s told Khaled she knows about Miriam – Why – who knows how that girl’s mind works? He might think she saw them together on that night in London. At least you don’t need to worry that he’ll think you told her. Mum says he came round to see me – why? Please find out – that’s an instruction.

  More soon,

  Jas xxx

  I didn’t know what to do after that. After a quick mental debate I went onto Sadiestyle. She hadn’t changed her image since I had last looked as far as I could see. I was reading her latest fashion post when I realised Malika was looking over my shoulder.

  ‘Who’s she?’ she asked.

  ‘Her name’s Sadie. It’s a fashion blog I follow. She lives in my town. I like her style.’ Malika wrinkled her nose.

  ‘How old is she? My mum dresses like that.’ I looked at the outfit she was pointing to. Sara was pretty smart looking.

  ‘She’s seventeen,’ I said.

  ‘She looks olde
r. Show me some more images.’ I opened up a page where Sadie had the short red bob that I had so carefully cultivated until last week.

  ‘Her hair is awful,’ said Malika, ‘she’s kind of plastic, don’t you think? I don’t mean to be rude,’ she added hastily. ‘What do I know about fashion?’

  I looked at her. Today she was wearing skinny black trousers and a grey top, with contrasting black and grey scarf and chunky black boots and lots of heavy silver jewellery. She looked good. She had her own style. I looked back at Sadie. Maybe she wasn’t quite as perfect as I had thought. I clicked the screen shut.

  ‘Hi girls.’

  We both looked up.

  ‘Hi Papa,’ said Malika.

  ‘Can I join you?’ he asked. ‘Sara’s gone upstairs to have a shower.’

  Malika stood up.

  ‘Don’t go,’ I said.

  ‘I need to get something from my room.’ She slipped past Michael. ‘I won’t be long.’

  ‘Jasmine.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I owe you an explanation, I know. I’m pleased you seem to be getting on with Malika.’

  ‘It makes it easier for you, doesn’t it? Is that why you invited me here, hoping we’d get on and then I would forgive you everything?’

  He rubbed his hands over his face.

  ‘I understand that you’re angry.’

  ‘Angry?’ I spluttered the word out. I gripped the edges of my chair, my voice rising. ‘Do you know what it has been like for Mum and me? She has never hidden the truth from me – I always knew that you abandoned her when I was just a baby, but now it’s even worse – it turns out that you had got another woman pregnant at the same time! I always wanted a sister or brother.’ I was shouting now. Michael looked alarmed. ‘When you abandoned us you ruined her life. If only I’d known you’d swapped me for another baby then I wouldn’t have bothered looking for you.’

  ‘You looked for me?’

  ‘Of course I did! As soon as I was old enough to understand I tried to find you. I was convinced that you had made a mistake, that something was preventing you from coming back to us. I tried for ages to work out where you might have gone but I had to give up in the end, I came to my senses and realised you didn’t want me any more.’ Tears were springing into my eyes now. ‘You had another child that you loved more, another family. Do you know how much that hurts?’ I scrunched my eyes up, determined not to let him see me cry.