A Perfect Cornish Christmas
At least, Scarlett thought, she hadn’t received A Self-Help Guide to Dating and Relationships, although it might have come in handy, considering her lack of progress since she’d split with Rafa. He’d been dark and handsome in the best Spanish tradition, a keen triathlete and a tennis player like his namesake. Maybe Heidi was hinting that Scarlett should take more exercise than the regular group swim sessions she enjoyed at her local ‘baths’ in Birmingham, although Scarlett went to the class as much for the social side as the workout.
There was one thing for sure. She had no intention of taking the plunge while in Cornwall. A toe-dip in the waters the day before had proved that was out of the question. These folk who did Boxing Day swims were barking, she’d decided.
Ellie opened the bottle of crème caramel liqueur that Scarlett had given her and topped up the empty eggnog glasses.
Scarlett connected the cable from the computer to the TV, surprised to find her fingers fumbling with the connectors. She was used to giving client presentations when pitching for a copywriting project but now the moment had come, she was nervous. She’d held onto the secret for over two months now and the suspense was killing her. It seemed like forever since she’d come down to Cornwall bearing the small box that had arrived from TreeFynder, a DNA testing company and ancestry website.
It had been Scarlett’s idea to arrange the test, which had been billed on the site as ‘The Ultimate Family Christmas Gift’. Her father, a retired civil engineer, had an interest in history and had often joked that the Lathams had Viking heritage. Marcus had often mentioned he’d be interested in finding out more too. It had seemed like the perfect celebration of the Latham family’s close bonds and an entertaining way to spend Christmas Day. She and Ellie had both agreed that Auntie Joan, who’d loved her extended family dearly, would have been delighted at the gift.
Admittedly, the initial DNA test had been slightly gross. Scarlett and Ellie had had to spit into a pot and the test had required a surprising amount of saliva. She recalled the two of them standing in this very room all those weeks ago, reading the instructions with a mix of excitement and disgust.
‘Can you imagine Auntie Joan’s face, if she’d known we were spitting in her sitting room?’ Scarlett had asked.
Ellie had laughed and held up the pot. ‘Maybe we should rename it the spitting room.’
The results had taken about four weeks to arrive. The pots had gone off to TreeFynder.com and the results were posted online. They would reveal Scarlett and Ellie’s heritage and be linked to other people around the world who shared their DNA, if they were registered with the same company.
It had taken everything for Scarlett not to look at the report, but it seemed like cheating if she knew the outcome ahead of everyone else, so she managed to restrain herself. She’d know everything in a few minutes, anyway.
‘Hey, you two.’ Her father, wearing a stripy apron, popped his head round the sitting room door. ‘Are you ready yet with this “big surprise”?’
Anna followed him into the room. Their mother’s face was red from the heat of the kitchen. ‘The suspense is killing us, isn’t it, Roger?’ she said. ‘And as everything’s under control in the kitchen for a bit, can we get it over with?’
Ellie nodded. ‘Yes. You can round up the troops, Dad, if you don’t mind.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘It’s like herding cats, but I’ll do my best. What about the boys?’
‘Oh, you can leave them in the snug with their games,’ Scarlett said, aware that tearing the boys away from their Xboxes might be impossible anyway. ‘Thanks for coming all this way for Christmas.’
‘How could I miss it?’ He put his arm around her. ‘Especially with this big surprise you and Ellie have planned. You’ve been acting like a pair of kids for the past week. No idea what it is, though.’
‘All will be revealed any moment.’
A few minutes later, Roger managed to get everyone – except the twins – gathered in the sitting room with a glass of fizz in their hands. Six pairs of eyes turned on Scarlett in expectation.
Her parents were sharing the love seat, while Marcus and Heidi occupied the larger of the two sofas. Ellie was perched on the edge of the small sofa, a smile on her face. Only she knew what was coming. Now it came to the announcement, Scarlett had a momentary wobble. What if the gift was an anti-climax after all this build-up?
‘You’ve probably guessed that I’ve been up to something, and Ellie has been in on the surprise for a while. This present is especially for you, Mum, Dad and Marcus, but you’ll be interested too, Heidi.’
Her parents exchanged glances.
‘You’ll love it, Dad,’ Scarlett said, mentally crossing her fingers. ‘You know how you’ve always said you must be a Viking?’
‘Er … Yes …’ Her dad looked a little confused. A quiet, thoughtful man with an engineer’s precise mind, he wasn’t given to effusive outbursts. However, Scarlett was convinced he’d be totally fascinated by all the data and details uncovered by the test.
Marcus snorted. ‘What is this present? A custom-made helmet with horns?’
Heidi sniggered. ‘Not planning on pillaging Porthmellow, are you?’
Their mum frowned. ‘Am I the only one who’s confused?’
‘It’s not a helmet,’ said Scarlett. ‘It’s something even more exciting, and it’s for everyone. Now we’re going to find out if you really are a Viking, Dad. Ellie, are you set?’
‘Yup.’ Ellie held up her phone.
Scarlett tapped her keyboard and a page from the TreeFynder website appeared on the telly, complete with its tree logo and banner announcing:
Discover your roots with TreeFynder!
She cringed at the cheesy copy on the ancestry website. Privately, she’d have loved to rewrite it all and get a new design done – as with most websites – but that was for another day.
Marcus and her parents sat back, intent on the TV screen. Heidi crossed her legs and smiled. ‘Gosh, the suspense is killing me.’
‘All will become clear,’ Scarlett said dramatically, ignoring Heidi’s sarcasm but slightly disappointed by the baffled expressions of the rest of the family.
She logged on and the screen flashed up a message:
Congrats! Here is your Latham family tree!
‘A couple of months ago, Ellie and I decided to have our DNA tested, so we could find out our genetic roots, and we really will know if Dad’s a Viking.’
Marcus let out a whistle. ‘Now this is interesting. I’ve always wanted to do this.’
Re-sult, thought Scarlett in triumph. ‘Right. Deep breath, because neither Ellie nor I have looked at the results. We thought it would be more of a surprise for everyone that way.’
‘It’s been so hard not to check out the site,’ Ellie said.
‘Without further ado, now we find out who our ancestors were. Ta da!’ Scarlett declared and tapped her mouse pad. At the same time, Ellie clicked on her own results on her phone.
The silence could only have lasted a second or two, but it seemed far longer to Scarlett, already wound up to fever pitch after keeping the secret for so long.
Her mother spoke first. ‘Um. This is very exciting, I’m sure, but what does it all mean?’
Scarlett had spent so long on the TreeFynder site, learning how to interpret the potential results of the ancestry test, that she’d forgotten the figures and tables on the screen would mean nothing to anyone but her and Ellie. The actual findings were a complete surprise to her too, but she knew what they might mean in principle.
‘Well, both Ellie and I have had our DNA tested, which of course tells us about the rest of our relations and ancestors – and yours.’
‘Ah, I see.’ Marcus leaned forward.
‘How fascinating,’ Heidi muttered, picking up a magazine.
‘Obviously it doesn’t cover Heidi, but it will show the boys’ heritage too,’ Scarlett said, hoping to win Heidi over.
Heidi let the magazine rest in her lap, her attention caught at last.
‘Yes, can you please explain this to those of us still stuck in the Stone Age,’ her father said.
‘OK. Well, Ellie and I sent off a sample of our DNA to this ancestry site and these are the results of their analysis. This chart shows the areas of the world and types of people who are our ancestors. It says that I’m 60 per cent Iberian, 20 per cent Irish and 20 per cent other ethnicity. So – no Viking …’
Ellie held up her phone. ‘I am! Mine says I’m 70 per cent Scandinavian, 15 per cent Irish and 15 per cent other ethnicity.’
‘They’re very different. Is that normal?’ Marcus asked.
‘According to the guidelines, siblings can have very different genetic make-ups. Dad’s the Viking and Mum’s obviously the Mediterranean one. I have a different mix of Mum and Dad’s DNA to Ellie.’
‘That’s no surprise. You’ve always looked like Mum,’ said Marcus.
‘She certainly loves her Spanish holidays,’ her father said drily. ‘Now we know why.’
Their mother flashed a smile. ‘Which reminds me, I must go and check on the potatoes.’
Marcus, Ellie and Scarlett exchanged wide-eyed looks, wondering how potatoes could have anything to do with Spanish holidays.
Anna got up, holding the tea towel she’d carried in from the kitchen.
Ellie groaned. ‘Oh, don’t miss the best bit. The potatoes can wait, Mum.’
‘You won’t say that when you get a plate full of blackened lumps for lunch.’
‘I’ll check them,’ Heidi said, clearly looking for an excuse to get away from the family love-in. Actually, Scarlett didn’t blame her on this occasion and it might be less awkward if she wasn’t there.
‘Are you sure you can manage?’ Anna looked worried at the prospect of Heidi handling a tray of potatoes. ‘They are roasted in goose fat, you know …’
‘I’ll cope somehow.’ Heidi got up and patted her shoulder. ‘You enjoy your special present, Anna.’
Scarlett wasn’t sure if her sister-in-law was being sarcastic or not, but she let it drop. Their mum sat back down on the sofa, still clutching the tea towel.
‘Now, here’s the really exciting part …’ She hovered the cursor over the Find Relatives menu. ‘Who knows. We might find some long-lost second cousins on here. Maybe we’re related to royalty, like Danny Dyer is.’
Marcus groaned. ‘God, I hope not!’
Their father laughed.
‘I don’t think we’re in line for the throne, Dad, but – oh look, we have a first degree relative on the site,’ said Scarlett. ‘What a surprise. Not.’
‘That’ll be me, of course,’ said Ellie, clicking her phone. ‘Because we’re both registered on their database … Let’s take a look. Oh, yes … oh …’ Her voice trailed off. ‘Oh.’
‘What?’ Scarlett asked.
‘I think I’ll go and help Heidi with the roasters.’ Their mother was halfway out of the door.
‘Mum, wait! Stay and see some more.’ Scarlett couldn’t conceal her disappointment. Then again, it was her father who loved history.
‘Sprouts need putting on!’ she shouted.
‘This early?’ Marcus laughed. ‘Come on, Ellie, show us this relative-finder thing.’
‘It, um … seems to have disappeared.’ Ellie held up a black phone screen and aimed a look at Scarlett. There was desperation in her eyes.
‘Don’t worry, I can get it up on the telly,’ said Scarlett, cheerfully.
‘Wait!’
Ellie’s cry was too late. The 72-inch screen flashed up a notification.
You have a half-sibling on TreeFynder.
Marcus dived on it like a hawk. ‘Half-sibling? What’s that supposed to mean?’
Ellie couldn’t suppress her gasp and exchanged a panicky glance with Scarlett. ‘That’s wrong. It’s not possible. We don’t have any half-siblings.’
‘It must mean sister or brother, of course,’ said their dad. ‘It can only refer to you and Ellie.’
It must refer to her and Ellie. Half-siblings. Scarlett went cold all over as the implications sank in like wet slush soaking through the bunny slippers. Ellie stared at her; lips pressed together. When Ellie had seen the results on her phone, she’d tried to stop Scarlett from sharing them with the rest of the family.
‘It must be a mistake. Let’s try again.’ Faking a sigh of exasperation, Scarlett refreshed the page, hoping against hope it would miraculously show a different answer. But a second later, it flashed up the same horrible phrase.
You have a half-sibling on TreeFynder.
The words leapt out at Scarlett and seared themselves on her brain. She felt sick.
Half-sibling.
Their father frowned at the screen. ‘I don’t understand—’
‘Scarlett’s right. There must have been a cock-up.’ Ellie got up and turned off the TV. ‘I think they’ve mixed up our DNA with someone else’s. It must happen a lot.’
‘I doubt it,’ Marcus said, ‘I’ve heard these labs are very accurate.’
‘Actually, I saw a programme that said there can be a big margin of error,’ Ellie declared. ‘Huge.’
‘Then why did you bother getting tested?’ Marcus said sharply, treating both of them to a glare.
‘Because we thought it would be fun …’ Scarlett said. ‘Didn’t we, Ellie? Dad’s always wanted to know if he has any Viking in him, and we thought it would be the perfect family present.’
‘Obviously, it isn’t,’ Marcus said, narrowing his eyes at Scarlett again.
‘Let’s not worry about it now. We’ll contact the site after Christmas and get our money back,’ Ellie said, then sniffed the air. ‘Hmm, what’s that amazing smell? I think dinner must be nearly ready.’
‘Mum’s only just put the sprouts on,’ Marcus muttered, his eyes straying to the laptop.
‘Shall I get us all another glass of Prosecco?’ Scarlett piped up, feeling as if she might throw up. She didn’t want Prosecco and had no idea how she was going to eat Christmas dinner.
‘But I don’t understand,’ their father insisted as Scarlett snatched up her laptop, intent on hiding it under her bed, as if that would make any difference at all to the results. The genie was out of the bottle now. Her hands were shaking.
‘If your DNA test says you and Ellie are half-siblings, what does it mean …’ Their father looked at them both. Scarlett hugged the laptop. Oh God, everything was becoming horrifyingly clear. Their mother’s lack of enthusiasm for the DNA test, slinking out of the room when they tried to find their relatives. Oh, Christ on a bike, what the hell had she unleashed on her family?
‘Nothing, because it’s a computer error or a mix-up in the lab. Don’t worry about it, Dad,’ said Ellie. ‘Blooming rip-off! For all we know, TreeFynder doesn’t even have a real lab and it’s a couple of kids with a chemistry set in their bedroom. Let’s forget it for now and have another drink. What do you all want?’
Their father nodded but seemed confused and quiet. Marcus, however, would not be silenced. ‘But I’m still confused about exactly what the results mean,’ he said insistently. Scarlett loved her brother, for all his faults, but at this moment would have happily wished him to evaporate.
‘Marcus. There’s no point having the conversation. Now, come on, let me get you a drink.’
As she looked at him, it hit her. Marcus and Ellie both had their father’s thick dark curly hair. Scarlett was fair. Her mum had light brown hair that the sun bleached in summer, but Scarlett was blonde all year round, and almost wheaten in the sunny months. Her hair was straight and easily tamed, which Ellie had always envied but Scarlett thought was a bit boring compared to Ellie’s bouncy curls. Her siblings had strong noses, ever so slightly ‘Roman’, according to Auntie Joan – which hadn’t amused Marcus, but had made Ellie burst out laughing and start muttering, ‘Hail, Great Caesar,’ to him.
As they’d grown older, Ellie and Marcus had changed but had always at some point resembled their dad. Scarlett never had.
If that test was accurate … Scarlett felt as if she was about to suffocate and her stomach clenched. She had to get out, or she might be sick, but Heidi blocked the doorway, her hands still in oven gauntlets. She’d obviously been there much longer than they’d realised.
‘I’m sure this is all a mistake, Roger,’ she said, looking at their father with pity. ‘Because if that test is accurate, it means that Ellie and Scarlett can’t possibly have the same father. One of them isn’t your daughter.’
Chapter Three
Nine months later October 1 2019
‘Ellie. Marcus here. I’m calling re: Christmas. I’ve got five mins between meetings so I thought I’d phone before you make any plans.’
Ellie’s heart sank at the mention of Christmas.
‘Hi, Marcus …’ Ellie could hear phones ringing in the background of her brother’s Birmingham office, in sharp contrast to the quiet of Seaholly Manor.
He launched in again, cutting her off.
‘It may only be the start of October, but you know Scarlett likes to organise us all. Or used to. It’s of no matter anyway, because we won’t be coming to the manor for Christmas. Although after last year’s catastrophe, I expect you’ve already worked that one out. I’m assuming that Mum and Dad won’t be there either.’
She held the phone away from her ear, trying to rein in her irritation. Finding out that their family wasn’t what they’d thought had been a hell of a shock for all of them, but Marcus had taken it very hard.
‘I don’t know what their plans are yet,’ she said patiently.
‘Whatever they decide to do – or not do – we definitely won’t be coming down to Cornwall. We’ve booked a skiing chalet in Courcheval with some friends and we leave on the twenty-seventh. Heidi thought it would be good for the boys to get some exercise instead of lazing about, and besides, they’re getting to the age where they’d rather be with their mates than hanging around with family in a draughty old house. And, to be honest, Heidi still hasn’t got over the trauma of last year. None of us have—’
‘Right …’ Ellie interrupted his flow. He sounded irritated and guilty and her own patience was running out as fast as sand in an egg timer. Which reminded her of last Christmas. Heidi’s face when Ellie had told her the eggnog tasted like sick. Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.
‘Um, Els … Have you seen Mum recently? I’ve been worried about her.’ Marcus’s clipped tone lost its edge, instantly taking Ellie back to the unsure younger brother she used to know. He did love their parents dearly and had been especially close to their mother. Marcus and his dad hadn’t always got on that well, but the bomb that Scarlett’s ‘Christmas gift’ had lobbed into that relationship had changed the dynamics.
Marcus was finding it hard to believe his mum had had an affair, and even harder to believe she wouldn’t admit to it. They all were, although Ellie’s priority was to support both parents in trying to save their marriage, which until eleven a.m. last Christmas Day, had appeared to be long and happy. Scarlett had been and still was devastated and since then, Ellie had had to set aside her own feelings of shock and disbelief to support the others as best she could. Privately, however, she’d spent many sleepless nights worrying about its devastating effects on her family.
‘Ellie?’
‘Not since she came to stay a couple of weeks ago. I’ve spoken to her on the phone plenty of times. She called me from work. I’ve spoken to Dad, too.’
‘And? Have they come to any decisions?’
‘Not yet. They’re still sleeping in separate rooms from what I can work out. Scarlett paid them a visit a couple of days ago.’
‘I’m surprised they let her in the house!’
‘Dad invited her … but Mum was there too. Marcus, how many times do I have to tell you that this mess isn’t Scarlett’s fault?’
‘I know it’s not totally her fault, obviously, but if she’d never bought that bloody test kit, none of this would have happened. She does have a tendency to put her foot in it, ever since she was a kid.’
‘Don’t blame Scarlett. This whole thing has hurt her more than anyone.’
‘She’s still not speaking to Mum, then?’
‘Not really. She still sees Dad and phones him, but I don’t think she and Mum are on speaking terms.’ Ellie wasn’t sure just how the revelations had changed Scarlett’s relationship with their father, but she wasn’t going to complicate things by voicing that to Marcus.
‘Humph.’
‘Marcus?’
‘I still say that the test was wrong.’
‘What? Both of them?’ Ellie replied, shuddering at the memory of Scarlett’s fresh disappointment when they took a private DNA test that proved she was ‘only’ Ellie’s half-sister. Their mother had been angry and hurt but continued to insist there had to be a mistake.
‘I wish none of this had ever happened. If Mum did – you know, with another bloke – then why won’t she admit it?’
‘I don’t know, but it’s obviously a deeply painful experience for her as well as the rest of us. Until, and if, Mum is willing to share the truth, how can you expect Scarlett – and Dad – to start understanding and forgiving her? We don’t know any of the circumstances.’
‘I suppose not …’ Marcus said grudgingly. Ellie hated to see the turmoil the family was going through, but as the eldest, she felt obliged to try and keep the peace. Her travels over the years had also, she admitted, given her a slight distance – and a fresh perspective on family life. She’d seen a lot of unusual family set-ups while she’d worked and lived all over the world, enough to remind her that no one’s circumstances were ever as smooth as they might appear.
The old grandfather clock struck the half hour, startling Ellie.
‘Marcus. Can we talk about this later, please?’ she asked. ‘I have to go to work. Someone’s off sick at the café and they want me for the lunch service.’
‘The café? I thought you were working on a yacht.’
‘It’s a vintage sailing trawler actually, but it’s the end of the season so I’m only helping in the office two days a week. I’ve started doing some shifts in the Harbour Café again.’
He huffed. ‘Oh, well, I suppose you need a bit of money for extras and stuff. Lucky you don’t have to pay a mortgage or rent.’
‘Mum and Dad seem OK with the arrangement at the moment, and they’ve got enough on their plate without worrying about whether or not to sell this place. It’s not good to leave old houses like this empty, especially over the winter. I’m keeping the place safe and secure until they decide what to do with it, and I’m doing the garden and small maintenance jobs.’ Which took up a lot of her time, she could have added, not that Marcus would realise, because he didn’t know one end of a screwdriver from another.
‘They can’t even decide whether they want to stay married, so I shouldn’t hold your breath. Although if they do get a divorce, they’ll have to sell the manor and you’ll have to move out.’
‘Sorry. What was that?’ Ellie held the phone at arm’s length, fuming quietly that her attempts to soothe him had obviously failed. ‘I can’t hear you, the signal’s really bad down here.’ She heard his tinny voice say something about ‘being prepared for the worst’ then banged the handset on the hall table. ‘Oh no! Damn! I’ve lost you. Speak soon!’
She hung up.
Swearing under her breath, Ellie scooped up her car keys from the hall table. With a bit of luck, Marcus would be too wrapped up in his waste-management meeting to remember he’d called her landline.