‘Maybe she will one day,’ she said. ‘But for now, I’m sure if we asked her very nicely, then she would come and pick you up from school tomorrow with me. Would you like that?’

Tui agreed that she would, cheering up almost immediately and getting up to lope around the shop in her new shoes.

‘Genie?’ The assistant turned to Bonnie. ‘That’s an unusual name – is she one of your daughter’s friends?’

Bonnie watched as Tui came to a halt in front of a full-length mirror, into which she gazed with her wonderful lack of self-consciousness, smiling her wide, pure-hearted grin and finding only delight in her reflection.

‘Her big sister,’ Bonnie said, thinking then that she might never have felt as happy as she did right now, in this very moment. ‘But Genie is her best friend, too.’

46

I find the note pinned to the door of the apartment.

David and I had just spent the afternoon wandering through Queenstown, trying to find ways to talk to each other. Every time I look at him, it becomes a study, as I search his face for clues that we could be related by more than a fraudulent birth certificate. I am still swinging unsteadily on the rickety bridge between outrage and relief, and the relentless effort it is taking to prevent my shaken-up emotions blowing skywards, like a cork out of a bottle, has left me feeling drained.

When David suggested that he return to his hotel and leave me to my own devices for the evening, I agreed with perhaps too much enthusiasm – but then I figured that maybe he needs some time alone to reflect, just as I do. There is too much to digest for it all to be resolved over the course of a few days, and I am still grappling with the concept of a birth mother – let alone a biological father.