The Other Child Read Online Free PDF Page B

she’d surfaced from her half sleep to ask who was calling.
    ‘Nobody. Wrong number.’ He pulled his T-shirt off over his head, obscuring his face. ‘Go back to sleep.’
    The answerphone clicks in now; she hears the distant burr of her own voice asking the caller to leave a message.
    ‘I have to go get Kevin from the after-school programme in a few minutes,’ Sandra is saying, ‘and drive him to his therapist, but I just wanted to, you know, stop by, say hi, let you know that I’m usually around Fridays if you need anything. It must be a little lonely as an at-home mom in a new place? Or are you working?’
    ‘Well, sort of, yes. I’m a photographer. I’m trying to finish a book.’
    ‘Oh, wow! A book? What’s it about?’
    ‘It’s for a charity back in Britain, it’s part of a campaign to support organ donation.’
    ‘Transplants?’ Sandra’s smile drops. ‘You’re photographing transplants?’
    ‘No, no, well, not the actual surgeries. I’m taking pictures of hands – the hands of everyone involved in the donor process: doctors, nurses, the donor families, recipients. The book’s called
Hand in Hand
. It’s to raise awareness and get people to sign up to the donor register.’
    Sandra nods, looking slightly queasy.
    ‘I need to get it finished before my baby’s born.’
    ‘Oh!’ The smile lights back up. ‘I did wonder if you were . . . but you know what it’s like, I didn’t want to say anything, just in case! You never know, right? When’s it due?’
    ‘Mid-January.’ She hears Joe’s backpack snagging on the brickwork somewhere behind the shrubs.
    ‘You play tennis, Tess?’
    ‘Tennis? Sorry, no, I don’t.’
    ‘Oh, that’s a shame. You could have joined us – me and some other moms play every Friday morning at the Y. I played right through my pregnancies – even with the twins.’ Sandra glances around the front yard. ‘I guess your son’s in the after-school programme too?’
    ‘Oh, no, actually, Joe’s here somewhere. He just . . . he likes to run ahead.’
    ‘He does? What grade is he?’
    ‘Fourth.’
    ‘Well, that’s great. Kevin’s in third grade and our twins, Parker and Dane, are at middle school; they’re fourteen. You’ve probably seen them around.’
    ‘I’m not sure. I’ve seen your husband in his car once or twice though, and a young woman dropping Kevin off at school.’
    ‘Oh, sure, that’s Delia, our nanny. Mike would have come by himself to say hi, but you know how it is. He’s in finance – he works long hours.’
    ‘Don’t worry, Greg’s the same.’
    ‘Oh, yes, your husband. I’ve seen him out running with Helena a few times. They go super-early, don’t they? Doctors’ hours.’
    The late September sun suddenly feels as if it is burning her scalp. Her mouth has gone dry, her armpits feel slippery, her hairline damp.
    ‘What kind of a doctor is Greg?’
    ‘He’s a paediatric heart surgeon.’
    ‘A baby heart doctor? Oh my! Wow! That’s amazing.’ Sandra becomes more focused, stepping closer. ‘Listen, let’s get you over, introduce you to some of the neighbours. Soon – OK?’
    ‘That’d be lovely.’
    ‘It’s a plan then!’ Sandra steps back, as if it is. ‘Right, now, I’ll be late if I don’t go. Nice talking to you, Tess.’
    *
    Joe slips out of the shrubbery as soon as Sandra is gone: a small, feral creature with leaves in his hair.
    ‘Look!’ She lowers the plate. ‘Cookies!’
    He grabs one, but doesn’t follow her to the door. She has to force herself not to try to hug him or kiss his freckled face. He won’t let her do that yet. He can’t be rushed or chivvied after school – he needs to decompress.
    ‘How about some milk to go with that?’ She goes inside leaving the door open for him to follow.
    She puts her bag on the dining-room table, shoving a stack of Greg’s files to make room for the cookie plate, but they topple and slide off the edge, scattering across the parquet, knocking over a small