Page 45 of The Sun Sister

Switzerland

My darling Electra...

‘Oh Christ!’ I gulped as tears filled my eyes before I’d even read a word.

There is part of me that wonders whether you will ever read this; perhaps you will put it away somewhere for the future, or even burn it – I do not know, because you are the most unpredictable of all my daughters. And ironically, I believe, the most vulnerable.

Electra, I know we have never had the easiest of relationships – two strong and determined personalities often fight. Yet they also love the most passionately – another quality we share.

First of all, let me apologise for the last time we met in New York. Suffice to say that neither of us was at our best. For my part, it pained me deeply to see my extraordinary youngest daughter having to resort to substance abuse to get through a dinner with her father. You know all too well how I feel about drugs and I can only hope and pray that you have decided – or will decide – to take the necessary steps to rid yourself of them for good. Any parent watching a beloved child destroy themselves will naturally be devastated, but there is only one person who can help you, Electra, and that is yourself.

Now, no more of that. I also want to explain why it may have seemed that I was not as obviously proud of you as perhaps you thought I should be. Firstly, let me tell you that every time I saw your photo in a magazine, my heart would fill with pride at your beauty and elegance. And of course your talent, for I understand it takes a gift to know how to make the camera love you. As well as the kind of patience that I’m not sure I could ever possess – and that I did not think you could either, for that matter! But you have somehow learnt it and for that, I truly admire you.

The reason that I became so frustrated with you when you were at school is because I could see just how clever you were, perhaps the most naturally clever of all your sisters. I only hope that, one day, you will be able to combine the fame you have earned with the brains you were born with. If that happens, you will be a force to be reckoned with. There are no limits to what you could become – a voice for those who can’t speak for themselves. Truly, my beautiful girl, you are capable of greatness.

I hope that this explains why I have often found it difficult to be your father; to see a child with so much potential yet to understand that she does not realise what she possesses can be very frustrating. And I do wonder if I failed you – you never did give me a proper answer as to why you hated boarding school. If you had trusted me, maybe I could have helped you, but I also know how proud you are.

Sadly now, I must leave you to discover for yourself who you are and the incredible person you could become. However, I will not leave you without offering you assistance. As you will know, all your sisters have been given a letter, and in each one I have provided them with enough clues to find the path back to their birth parents if they wish to find them. With you, all I can give is the name and contact number of your grandmother, who lives not so very far from where you do. She is one of the most inspiring women I have ever had the privilege to meet, and I only wish I had known her for longer. This information I enclose separately, with a photograph. The resemblance is unquestionable, and I feel confident that she will be there to help you when I cannot.

My darling Electra, I beg you to know you are, and will always be, deeply loved by your father.

Pa Salt x

I took another slug of vodka as I sat staring blankly at the letter. Maybe my brain wasn’t clear enough to take in what Pa had said, or maybe I just didn’t want to. I sighed, then pulled out something else from the envelope. It was a photo, and it was black and white and...

‘Oh my God! Oh jeez...’

I studied it again, but I already knew it was the same photograph as the one I’d seen a few weeks back, sent by a woman saying she was my grandmother.

I looked closer and yes, the female in the photo looked very like me – or maybe I looked very like her. I remembered Mariam saying she’d put the letter from my ‘grandmother’ in the safe, so I went to get it. Tentatively, I extracted the contents and laid the photograph the woman had sent me next to the one from Pa’s envelope. They were identical.

I turned over the photo from Pa and saw there was an address written on the back, along with a cell phone number. Then I looked at the creased letter that Mariam had insisted on un-scrunching and read the address at the top.

Again, they were identical. I then read the letter (written on obviously expensive paper) and in the same beautifully scripted hand that had addressed the envelope.

Apartment 1

28 Sidney Place

Brooklyn 11201

My dear Miss D’Aplièse – or may I call you Electra?

My name is Stella Jackson and I am your biological grandmother. I am sure you receive many letters, and I would also guess that a portion of them are begging letters. Let me reassure you that this is not such a thing. I simply decided that it was time to introduce myself.

I know you are a busy woman, but I feel it would be beneficial for you and I to meet. Your adoptive father described me as a ‘living clue’. I am not sure I appreciate the description, but for now, I enclose a photograph of myself and your mother. I can be contacted at the above address and my cell phone is on day and night.

I look forward to hearing from you.

With kind regards,

Stella Jackson

Whoever ‘Stella’ was, she had certainly been educated. I wouldn’t know where to begin with writing such a letter; it felt (uncomfortably) like she was trying to set up a meeting to discuss the renovation of the common parts of a condominium building with a neighbour she’d never met. Rather than introducing herself to her long-lost granddaughter, if that’s what I actually was...

But even for me, the mistress of cynicism, it seemed impossible that this woman was not who she said she was.

‘Oh my God! I have a blood relative!’ I announced to the room as I stood up and wandered round it. ‘So, Electra,’ I said, imitating Theresa’s nasal intonations as I had her begin an imaginary conversation with me, ‘how do you feel about discovering you have a blood relative alive and living close by?’