Dear Martin and Joan,
My name is Emma Hudson. I was born April Egan on 1 April, 1966. I was adopted six weeks after my birth. I've known for certain that I was adopted since I was 18. I discovered from the paperwork in my adoption file that you are my birth parents. I believe that following my birth you returned to Ireland and that you married a year later. I'm hoping the intervening years have been kind to you, as they have been to me.
I happen to be coming to Dublin in a couple of weeks, and I thought this visit would be a good opportunity for us to meet. You can reach me at this number, 0171 669141, to arrange a time and a place.
Looking forward to hearing from you.
Best wishes,
Emma
Joan couldn't steady her hands as she read and reread the letter. She checked the date it had been posted again, and her eyes darted to the calendar pinned on the corkboard next to the fridge. April, who she now knew had lived her life as Emma, would be arriving in a week or so. Sweet Jesus.
She took off her glasses, still keeping a hold of Emma's note in her trembling hand. The she closed her eyes and tried to imagine Emma standing in her kitchen in London, licking the envelope flap before pressing it down, making sure the secret was firmly sealed inside.
Tears sprang from nowhere, filling Joan's eyes. What now? You'd think with 30 years to plan for something you'd have an idea what your next move should be. It wasn't as if there was a decision to weigh up - she hadn't much choice in the matter. Emma knew where they lived. She could turn up out of the blue at any time. Joan couldn't risk that, no matter how much she longed to see her. If only she had more time.
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Esta historia es de la edición June 2022 de Australian Women’s Weekly NZ.
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