Blood Ties by Sam Hayes Page A

Erin doing such a thing in a fit of pride and independence. If that was the case, if Ruby’s birth had originally been registered under her father’s name, when her parents were happily married, then of course no record would be found. Robert released the tight embrace of his arms a little, relaxing as he realised a rational explanation was entirely possible.
    Although Erin never spoke of Ruby’s father, understandably, and he wasn’t keen to hear details, Robert had always assumed that the name Lucas came from her previous marriage. It hadn’t seemed important before and delving too deep into another person’s affairs, he knew from bitter experience, only ever resulted in trouble. Thus far, his relationship and marriage to Erin had encapsulated the thinnest of details, deliberately skimming the surface for fear of crushing something delicate and irreplaceable beneath. Robert chose to ignore the feelings of frustration this tactic of self-preservation had produced.
    ‘Superintendent Registrar’s office. Can I help you?’
    Tanya opened her mouth to speak but Robert lunged for the telephone and picked up the handset. He didn’t trust the woman not to make a mess of things again. Time was running out.
    ‘Hi . . . yeah . . . I made an express application for a copy of my stepdaughter’s birth certificate about a week ago and got a letter back saying that you couldn’t find it. I was just wondering if you’d be able to check again for me. Obviously my daughter exists. I saw her just this morning.’ Robert tried to inject a little humour into the request, keen to keep the woman on his side, knowing how she could make things difficult.
    ‘Have you got a reference number on the letter?’
    Robert read out the number carefully and waited, listening to the woman’s breathing as she tapped at the keyboard.
    ‘No, sorry. It says that no records were—’
    ‘Yes, I know that. I have the letter here. I just want to know why no records were found.’
    Robert, perched on the corner of Tanya’s desk, recited details about Ruby – when she had been born, full name, how her mother had split from her father, but the woman interrupted, uninterested in what Robert had to say. There was a queue of callers racking up.
    ‘You’ve supplied appropriate details on your application form. The only explanation is that either the child’s name is wrong or, more likely, that the birth wasn’t registered at this particular office. Other than that, I can’t give specific details as to why we’re not coming up with anything. It might be worth checking with Mum again, too. Just to confirm you’ve remembered all the details correctly.’
    ‘I think I know my own stepdaughter’s correct name,’ he replied sourly. ‘Can’t someone run a search for all entries for that particular birth date?’
    ‘I’m sorry, sir. We simply don’t have the staff or the time to pursue such matters. If we had to—’
    ‘Thanks for your help.’ Robert replaced the handset abruptly, biting his lips in thought. He knew he wouldn’t get anything else out of the woman. He poured himself a coffee from the machine, almost forgetting to ask Tanya if she wanted one. She nodded when he held up a cup and for a while they drank in silence, each considering the outcome of the phone call.
    It occurred to Robert, as he sipped the scalding coffee, that he must have made a mistake about Ruby’s birthday. He knew Erin would react, the way women do, when he confessed to getting Ruby’s year or even day of birth wrong – rather like forgetting an anniversary and cobbling together a hasty surprise, blaming it on the tardy jeweller or incompetent travel agent.
    ‘First of January, nineteen ninety-two,’ he pondered out loud. ‘Thirty-first of December, ninety-one.’ Definitely the first one, he thought. Definitely January. But maybe nineteen ninety-one?
    His excuse to Erin would be that he was a father by default. It was Erin he’d loved first. Ruby came as