Southern Roots (eBook)

- Sapphic Romance
- Second Chances
- Finding Home
- Starting Over

Southern Roots


Chapter 1 – London, UK


“Tea, Hannah?” Mandy asked, holding up the swanky stainless-steel kettle as she leaned against the kitchen island. She poured water over the teabags in the two mugs in front of her without waiting for an answer.
“Sure. I’ll get the milk.” Hannah opened the red SMEG fridge, the only bright thing in the white, minimalistic designer kitchen, took out the milk and added a splash in each mug. “How was your day?” she asked as she grabbed a pack of chocolate biscuits from one of the cupboards and followed Mandy up the narrow spiraling staircase onto the roof terrace.
“Oh, you know… same old.” Mandy took a careful sip of her tea as she sat down at the table. The sun was setting over the pastel-colored houses of Notting Hill, but it was still stifling hot. Hannah wasn’t complaining though. The sudden heatwave that had taken London by surprise in the first week of April meant that she’d had plenty of work through the temp agency, and the six days she’d busted her ass this week serving drinks at the Serpentine Bar in Hyde Park hadn’t been that bad, with well over five hundred pounds in tips. She sat down next to Mandy and put her feet up on the chair opposite her.
“Same old?”
“Yeah. Mondays are always bloody unpredictable,’ Mandy continued. “I’ve been putting out fires all day long. One of our featured stars cancelled on the cover shoot last-minute, so we only had two hours to get someone else to fill in, and that’s not easy on a Monday morning. I managed to get Deliah la Beau in the end, you know that Instagram kid who built an empire with her fitness range.” She put her mug down and rubbed her temples. “She was a nightmare, but at least she was on time. Our intern went home in tears because the young princess threw a tantrum about the lunch she’d ordered her, so I ended up taking her out for lunch after the shoot to keep her happy until one of my editors arrived to do her interview, even though I still had a million other things on my plate. Imagine sitting through an hour’s conversation with a spoilt seventeen-year-old. As you can imagine, it wasn’t exactly stimulating. Then, as soon as I got back to the office, I had a line of people in urgent need of sign offs on just about everything. I used the kids as an excuse to get out of there early, even though they won’t be back until eight.”
“That bad, huh?” Hannah gave her a smirk. “Sounds like hard work, being an editor-in-chief. A celebrity photoshoot, a fancy lunch, people begging for your approval,” she joked.
“Very funny.” Mandy rolled her eyes and swept a lock of raven black hair out of her face with a perfectly manicured hand. “Running a fitness magazine is harder than you think. Anyway, how was your day?”
“Well, I got my first pay check, so that’s a start.” Hannah took a sip from her tea. “I’ll finally be able to pay you and Annabel some rent now, until I find somewhere cheap to live.” She felt a little hopeless saying that out loud. “Thank you for helping me get back on my feet, Mandy. I can’t believe I have to start from nothing all over again at my age. It all seems so pointless.”
“Hey, you’re doing well.” Mandy placed a hand over Hannah’s. “I’m proud of you, Hannah. For not giving up, for getting on with your life after all the shit you’ve just been through. Losing your restaurant is no joke.” She gave Hannah a warm smile. “And don’t be silly, you don’t have to pay rent. You can stay as long as you need. It’s not like we’re in a student flat anymore, and you sure are a lot tidier now.” She laughed. “But most of all, Annabel and I are really grateful that you help us out with the girls. Our marriage has been better than ever since we’ve been able to go out on dates again, so don’t feel bad about it.”
“Child minding in return for a roof above my head is not exactly a chore,” Hannah retorted. “I love your kids. And I love Annabel, you’re lucky to have her.” She rolled her shoulders, that were stiff from lugging a heavy tray around all week and nodded towards the view. “Not to mention I get to live in my favorite part of London.” She loved the view from here. The neighborhood was both eclectic and upmarket, friendly, multicultural and creative, with diverse restaurants, galleries, antique stores and bookshops strewn across the lively streets that were lined with the iconic colored houses and their pretty little front yards.
“Did I hear someone say my name?” Annabel’s face appeared in the doorway as she stepped out with a bottle of chilled white wine in one hand and three polished wineglasses in the other. “I knew I’d find you here.” She put the wine and the glasses on the wooden table and gave Mandy a loving kiss before planting one on Hannah’s cheek too. “Why are you guys drinking tea?”
Hannah raised her eyebrows and smiled. “It’s Monday. We’re trying to be good.”
“Nonsense.” Annabel opened the bottle and filled the glasses, then sat down next to Mandy. “It’s not every day that we get home and have the chance to drink a glass of wine at sunset without having the kids running around screaming our ears off. Especially not on a Monday.” She held up her glass and clinked it with Hannah’s and Mandy’s. “Cheers ladies. Here’s to kids’ birthday parties and at least an hour of blissful calm and adult conversation. Let’s enjoy it while it lasts.”
“What’s got you in such a chirpy mood?” Mandy asked her wife. “And why do you look so smart? I mean, you always look smart, but you hardly ever have make-up on. And your hair looks different.” She ruffled a hand through Annabel’s short blonde hair and inspected it from the front and the back. “I don’t know… styled? Or did you have a cut?”
“Hey, don’t mess with the hair.” Annabel chuckled as she pulled Mandy’s hand down and slapped it playfully. “Some lady spent a lot of time on that today. And yes, she even trimmed it a bit. We had headshots taken this afternoon, for our new website. It’s launching next week. I told you, remember? The launch party?”
“Oh God, I completely forgot.” Mandy winced and turned to Hannah. “Annabel’s company is re-branding. She’s making the shift from just PR to PR and marketing.”
“I know. She showed me the new logo last week. Exciting times. Five new members of staff, huh?”
“Yes. We’re launching next Thursday. Would you be able to…”
“Of course I’ll watch the twins,” Hannah interrupted her. “I’ve got another two weeks of dayshifts at the Serpentine Bar, so I’ll be home before you leave.”
“Thank you,” Annabel said with a grateful smile. “Only if you have the time. I don’t want you to feel like you have to watch them just because you live here now. It’s not like that.”
“I know.” Hannah took a sip of her Chablis and twirled it around in her mouth before swallowing it. She didn’t indulge in quality wine much anymore, now that she was broke, and she didn’t like raiding Mandy and Annabel’s wine-fridge, even though she knew they didn’t mind. “You really need to stop saying that, Annabel. As long as we’re both getting something out of this arrangement, I won’t feel so bad about intruding in your space.”
Annabel shrugged and smiled. “Okay, I won’t mention it again. Hey, have you contacted that lawyer I recommended?”
“I did. Thank you for that by the way. But he told me that as long as my name was on all the paperwork, there’s no way I’m going to get out of this mess unless Beth confesses to stealing from me. Short term, it’s not going to make any difference. The tax needs to be paid three years back, and the restaurant was in my name, so unless she suddenly appears and offers to give it back, I still owe the tax office twelve-thousand pounds, even after selling my restaurant. At least they settled for the monthly payments. That way, I won’t have to keep looking over my shoulder.” She shook her head. “I still can’t believe how stupid I’ve been. How could I not have realized that she was taking the money she told me she’d set aside for tax payments? No small restaurant owner can afford the designer clothes she bought for herself, or the trainers she got me every month. It all seems so obvious in hindsight.” Hannah bit her knuckle in anger. “Why the hell did I trust her with my finances? I’m clearly a terrible judge of character.”
“Because you trusted her,” Mandy said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “And because you’re a kind person, who would never think anything bad of the people you love.”
“If I ever see her again, I’ll kill her,” Annabel said coolly and took a sip of her wine. Then she shot Hannah an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned it. I know how worked-up you get about the subject. With good reason I might add.”
“It’s okay.” Hannah picked up her glass and stood up. She was getting worked up, Annabel was right about that, and she needed something to do so she wouldn’t explode into an angry monologue again. No one liked to listen to that, especially not on a daily basis. “How about I make us a quick dinner? I assume you guys haven’t eaten yet?” She looked from Mandy to Annabel and back.
“Thanks Hannah, but I don’t think we’ve got anything in the house, apart from baked beans and those awful sausages the kids like. Shall we just order something?”
“No, we’ve got plenty.” Hannah walked over to the herbs she’d planted alongside the edge of the roof terrace and picked a bunch of parsley. “We’ve got some good pasta, garlic, capers, chili and this.” She held up the parsley. “I even think there’s a chunk of parmesan left in the fridge. Combined with your amazing olive oil, that will be more than enough to make a mean pasta.”
“Really?” Mandy’s eyes widened. “You know I’m not going to say no to that. I love your cooking. Want some help?”
“No, I’m good. You two just stay there and enjoy yourselves.”
“Wait!” Mandy yelled after Hannah as she was about to descend down into the kitchen. “I forgot to tell you, your post has finally been forwarded. I put it next to the fruit bowl, it’s quite a pile.”

“Alexa, play Hannah’s favorites.” Hannah tried to calm herself by humming along to the music while she put water on the boil in a big pan and threw in a pinch of salt. Then she started chopping the garlic and the chilies, sipping from her wine. It was the first day in months that she’d felt close to normal again, despite having lost her restaurant and living in the spare bedroom of her best friend’s house. Finally having some money in her account again helped, and a day off had done her good too, but once again, just the mention of Beth’s name was threatening to put her in a rage. Just over three months ago, life had been so good and simple. She’d had her restaurant, something to focus on, something she loved. She’d met an amazing woman during her Christmas vacation in Norway, and the memory of Beth, who had left her out of nowhere, had started to fade. She’d even stopped thinking of her during that week, the last week she’d felt truly relaxed and happy. Her week with Kristine had been nothing short of magical, and every moment of it, was still vivid in Hannah’s memories. They’d seen the northern lights together, hiked through the most surreal snowy landscapes, watched the countless stars and made love for hours on end. Yes, she’d been happy, and Kristine had made her feel that way. Beautiful, sweet and sexy Kristine from Louisiana with that cute Southern drawl. And if it hadn’t been for the shocking surprise in the form of an astronomical tax notice that awaited Hannah at home, they might have still been in touch. It was lucky she’d even opened the letter. The previous two had been consigned unopened to a growing pile of post in her kitchen, as she kept telling herself she was finally going to find an accountant to take over the admin work that Beth used to do. Little did she know that Beth had been putting their monthly tax reservations into her own private account for the last two years, saving up to make her big escape and embark on the world trip she’d always wanted to take. Hannah hadn’t known then what had been worse – the fact that her ex-girlfriend had been scamming her for years, meticulously planning to leave her right up to the very day she did, or the fact that she’d had to sell her beloved restaurant that she’d worked so hard for. Betrayal was a bitch, and it made her both stressed and depressed. Contacting Kristine had been the last thing on her mind, back then. Being caught up in a losing battle to save her restaurant and trying to cope with the constant anger at what Beth had done to her, had left her no choice but to email Kristine and tell her she wasn’t able to meet up in March. She hadn’t elaborated as to the reason – she’d simply told her that she had urgent matters to deal with and that she wouldn’t be in the right headspace to meet up. It was a shame, but it was what it was and with every day that passed it seemed less likely that they’d ever see each other again. Finding out that the one person she’d trusted her whole life and heart with had scammed her, hadn’t exactly fueled her enthusiasm to start a new relationship of any kind either. Maybe if Kristine had lived nearer, they could have worked something out and taken it slow, but never having been a big believer in long-distance relationships anyway, it was hard for Hannah to take the first step until she felt like her old self again. Her eyes shifted to the unopened pile of mail on the breakfast bar. She didn’t want any more bills and letters from the tax office ruining her mood. They could wait just a little bit longer, right? Don’t ignore them, Hannah. That only got you into trouble last time. Hannah sighed, picked up the pile and looked through it. Just what she’d expected. Another letter from the tax office and a couple of letters from her old restaurant’s suppliers, still addressed to her. One of the other letters had a funny stamp on it. She studied it closer, then turned it around and saw that the return address was a US one. Houma, Louisiana? It was stamped two weeks ago. Despite the dread about opening her post on a reasonably good day, her curiosity got the better of her, and she tore open the expensive looking envelope, pulling out a watermarked solicitor’s letter. The color drained from her face as she read it.

“Are you okay?” Annabel asked when Hannah came back up with three plates of pasta. “You look a little green around the gills.”
Hannah put the plates down, produced cutlery from her back pocket and gave them each a set. Then she took the letter out of her other back pocket and sat down, holding it up with a trembling hand.
“I got this in the post,” she said. “It’s from a solicitor in the US.”
“What? Let me see that.” Mandy snatched the letter from her, leaned back in her chair and folded it open. A deep frown formed between her eyebrows as she read it. “How bizarre. It looks legit,” she said, clearly puzzled about its contents. She passed it on to Annabel. “It says Hannah’s birth mother passed away, and Hannah’s inherited her estate in a town called Presley in Louisiana. In the US,” she added. “Which includes a house and a restaurant.”
Annabel took her time, studying the letter carefully.
“Well, we wouldn’t know if was genuine, would we?” Annabel said after she’d read it through. “But then again, I don’t see why someone would go to all this trouble to pull some kind of mean prank.”
“What if they’ve got the wrong Hannah Hudson?” Mandy asked cautiously.
“Yeah. There’s that.” Hannah poked her fork into her pasta and moved it around, the mystery letter shocking the appetite out of her. “But it clearly states my date of birth and the names of my adoptive parents.”
“True.” Mandy nodded deep in thought, then looked up at Hannah. “How would you feel? If this all turns out to be real, I mean?”
“How would she feel?” Annabel barged in. “What kind of question is that? Hannah’s in serious financial trouble and if this letter is authentic, she’s likely to inherit more than enough in real estate to pay off her debts and start a new business if she sells those properties. Plus, there’s a nice lump of cash included too.”
“Mandy’s got good reason to ask that,” Hannah said, turning to Annabel. “I’ve always said I wanted nothing to do with my birth mother. She gave me away and I blame her personally for my miserable youth. Still... I’ve been thinking about it lately, about looking her up. I’ve had this urge since I came back from Norway, to find out where I came from. I had some time to think there and I’ve seriously been considering getting her details from the adoption agency. I kept putting it off, thinking I’d do it as soon as I had my life back in order.” She paused. “But this means she’s dead, so actually, I’m not quite sure how I feel about it. The money is exactly what I need right now, sure. It would save me years of playing catch-up and slaving away for minimum wage. But still…” She shook her head. “It’s not exactly like winning the lottery.”
“I’m sorry. I was being insensitive.” Annabel bit her lip.
“No... it’s fine. It’s just weird reading the letter. It makes it all so real... It makes my birth mother real. Her name is right there. Hannah Radley. Hannah, just like me. I mean, is that a coincidence? Surely my adoptive parents would have named me.” She sighed. “Assuming any of this is real, of course.”
“Call them,” Mandy suggested. “Call the solicitor’s number in the letter. We’re ahead of the US, so the office should be open. Unless... would you like me to call them for you?”
Hannah thought about that. There was so much going through her head. She felt sick with nerves now and terribly curious at the same time. And then there was also a strange, sad undertone, knowing that the idea of looking up her birth mother was redundant now. That it was too late. Nausea settled in her stomach when it started to sink in.
“Would you mind?” she asked.
Mandy stood up, took the letter and searched for her phone in her bag. “No... no, I don’t mind at all.”
Hannah and Annabel listened in, on the edge of their seats, as Mandy got through to the office and spoke to the solicitor responsible, pretending to be Hannah.
“Uhuh,” she said, just before she hung up. “Okay, I understand. Thank you very much for clearing that up for me. I’ll email you my address, a copy of my passport and my NI number as soon as possible.”
“And?” Hannah followed Mandy with her eyes as she sat back down. “What did they say?” She looked for her wineglass, all nerves, then realized she’d left it in the kitchen and took a sip of Mandy’s wine instead.
Mandy topped up her wineglass and pushed it over to Hannah. “Take it.” She frowned in concentration, the way Hannah imagined her to frown in meetings at work. “It sounds like everything is correct. They seem certain that they have the right Hannah Hudson. If you send over a copy of your passport and National Insurance number along with our address, they’ll send over the paperwork by post. The cash, which amounts to…” She studied the letter again. “Just over ten thousand dollars, will be transferred to your account after you’ve filled in and signed the paperwork and sent it back. The ownership of the real estate in Presley will be transferred into your name too, and it’s up to you what you want to do with it. They said the process could take up to four weeks.”
“Just like that?” Hannah was silent, numb under the sudden bombshell that had been dropped on her. “That would make life a lot easier. I could pay off a big part of my debt.” She played with a lock of her dark, shoulder length hair, both her mind and her heart racing. All of a sudden, a whole lot of questions came to the forefront of her mind, so many things she wanted to know. “Does that mean she never had any other kids?” she heard herself asking out loud. “If she left everything to me, then that means she probably didn’t. It’s strange... I always pictured her with a happy family. That thought made me hate her even more, and in some twisted way that satisfied me because it justified all the anger inside of me.”
“She could have had other kids.” Annabel put her fork back down after taking a small bite. Their food was getting cold but eating somehow didn’t seem appropriate anymore. “Maybe they didn’t get along.”
“It’s unlikely, though,” Mandy said. There was a stunned, confused silence at the table. “I know it might be too soon to ask,” she carefully continued, “but would you consider going there? I mean, if you’re going to sell the properties, I assume you’d want to see them first, right? It’s doable from here, of course, but surely you must be curious. She was your birth mother after all.”
Hannah nodded slowly, taking a long drink of the wine. “Of course I’m curious. I’ve now got hundreds of questions that have never even crossed my mind before. It feels like everything’s changed since I went down to make dinner and opened that letter. Everything.” She sat back, taking deep breaths in an attempt to stop her hands from trembling. Shaken up didn’t even begin to describe how she felt.
“Don’t you think it’s interesting,” Mandy said, “that your birth mother had a restaurant, just like you? You never met her, but you have that in common already.”
“Yes, I was just thinking the same thing,” Hannah mumbled. The doorbell rang, but she barely registered it.
“The kids.” Annabel got out of her chair. “Why don’t you two stay up here, I’ll put them to bed in half an hour and I’ll bring you some more wine. I’m sure there’s a lot you want to talk about.” She pressed a button on the intercom, buzzing open the front door two flights of stairs below them. “Hey girls. Don’t forget to shut the door behind you,” she yelled through the speaker. Then she walked over to the balcony wall and leaned over, waving at the woman on the pavement below, who was just about to get back into her car. “Thanks for dropping them off, Bibi. Our turn next time.”
“No problem,” the woman shouted back. “They’ve had a lot of sugar, so apologies in advance if they won’t go to sleep.”
Annabel laughed and waved again. “Hey, sweeties! How was the birthday party?” she asked when her and Mandy’s eight-year-old twin girls came tearing up the stairs to the roof terrace, each with a goodie bag in their hands. Teachers sometimes had trouble telling them apart, as they insisted on wearing the same clothes at all times. Today, they were wearing white shorts and white t-shirts with a glittery grey butterfly pattern, completing their outfits with white socks and Converse high-tops that looked cute on their skinny, sun-kissed legs. Even their hair was done up in the same way, their blonde ponytails high on the back of their heads, tied up with pink scrunchies.
“Look, we got our ears pierced,” they shouted in unison, ignoring Annabel’s question.
“You got your ears pierced?” Hannah asked, opening her arms after they’d given their mothers a kiss. She pulled them in close to her, grateful for the distraction. “Come here, let me see that. You’re way too young to have your ears pierced.” She shot them a look of disbelief, making both girls giggle as they showed off the tiny glittery stickers on their earlobes. “Ouch. That must have hurt.”
“It didn’t hurt at all,” Savannah said, laughing.
“And we’ve got more, so we can wear them every day,” her sister Aria filled her in, opening her goodie bag and taking out a pile of stickers. “Would you like earrings too, Auntie Hannah?” she asked, holding out a sheet of blue star-shaped stickers for her.
“Oh, yes please. I’d love to look as pretty as the two of you.” Hannah lowered her head, allowing them both to place a sticker on each of her earlobes. “Thank you. How do I look?” She turned to Mandy and Annabel, who both sniggered at the sight of Hannah. Earrings, stickers, or anything jewelry-like for that matter, weren’t part of Hannah’s usual attire. If the weather allowed, she usually wore denim shorts and a t-shirt - a black one today - her tattoos sticking out both underneath her sleeves and her neckline. Getting tattoos had always been a way of dealing with pain for Hannah, and in the past three months, a tattooist friend of hers had added five new ones to her collection, almost covering her left arm entirely. Her black hair that ended just above her shoulders was often topped with a beanie, but it was too warm for that now. For years, her skin had been pale, giving her an almost goth like edge, but after serving drinks on the terrace for weeks now, she had a healthy tan and even a faint blush on her cheeks.
“You look nice,” Savannah said, studying Hannah with renewed interest.
“Come on, girls. Let’s get you showered and dressed for bed. It’s almost eight, and it’s a school night.” Annabel clapped her hands, indicating she meant business. “And Auntie Hannah is feeling a little tired, so you’ll have to do with me reading you a story.”
“It’s fine, really,” Hannah said, giving Savannah and Aria a kiss on their cheeks.
“I know.” Mandy stood up and shot Hannah a sweet smile. “But you need some time to yourself right now, let it all sink in. Wait for us? I’m just going to give Annabel a hand wrangling the little munchkins into bed.”

Hannah propped her feet up on a chair and finished her wine as the last slivers of sunlight disappeared behind the rooftops. She’d never imagined herself having a family like Mandy and Annabel, but after living here for three weeks, she was starting to see the charms of domestic life. She loved the twins and was proud to be their godmother. She’d seen them grow up into the tiny people they were now, and she’d always been the cool ‘auntie’, even though they weren’t related. And they were the only family she’d ever had. Hannah had grown up in the foster care system after her adoptive parents died in an accident when she was only two years old, and although she rarely spoke about the fact that she was adopted, she’d always blamed her birth mother for the rough time she’d had growing up. How a mother could give up her child was beyond Hannah. She’d never given much thought to who her biological father was, assuming he was some loser who had run off as soon as he found out his girlfriend was pregnant. But a mother… that was an entirely different thing, wasn’t it? Mothers she knew wouldn’t stop going on about how strong their bond with their children was, and even Mandy drove her to distraction with it sometimes. ‘Unbreakable’, she called it. Ever since Hannah had started thinking about looking up her birth mother, she’d been fantasizing about confronting her one day, telling her exactly what she’d been through and asking her to explain herself. But now, she’d never get the chance. Although she knew it was silly, as her intentions had never been to rekindle and build a happy relationship, the stabbing sense of sadness that had settled deep in the pit of her stomach since she’d opened that letter, seemed to grow by the minute and was almost choking her now. Hannah got out of her chair and made her way down to her room. She was in no mood to talk anymore.