A Perfect Cornish Christmas. Phillipa Ashley

Scarlett and seared themselves on her brain. She felt sick.

       Half-sibling.

      Their father frowned at the screen. ‘I don’t understand—’

      ‘Scarlett’s right. There must have been a cock-up.’ Ellie got up and turned off the TV. ‘I think they’ve mixed up our DNA with someone else’s. It must happen a lot.’

      ‘I doubt it,’ Marcus said, ‘I’ve heard these labs are very accurate.’

      ‘Actually, I saw a programme that said there can be a big margin of error,’ Ellie declared. ‘Huge.’

      ‘Then why did you bother getting tested?’ Marcus said sharply, treating both of them to a glare.

      ‘Because we thought it would be fun …’ Scarlett said. ‘Didn’t we, Ellie? Dad’s always wanted to know if he has any Viking in him, and we thought it would be the perfect family present.’

      ‘Obviously, it isn’t,’ Marcus said, narrowing his eyes at Scarlett again.

      ‘Let’s not worry about it now. We’ll contact the site after Christmas and get our money back,’ Ellie said, then sniffed the air. ‘Hmm, what’s that amazing smell? I think dinner must be nearly ready.’

      ‘Mum’s only just put the sprouts on,’ Marcus muttered, his eyes straying to the laptop.

      ‘Shall I get us all another glass of Prosecco?’ Scarlett piped up, feeling as if she might throw up. She didn’t want Prosecco and had no idea how she was going to eat Christmas dinner.

      ‘But I don’t understand,’ their father insisted as Scarlett snatched up her laptop, intent on hiding it under her bed, as if that would make any difference at all to the results. The genie was out of the bottle now. Her hands were shaking.

      ‘If your DNA test says you and Ellie are half-siblings, what does it mean …’ Their father looked at them both. Scarlett hugged the laptop. Oh God, everything was becoming horrifyingly clear. Their mother’s lack of enthusiasm for the DNA test, slinking out of the room when they tried to find their relatives. Oh, Christ on a bike, what the hell had she unleashed on her family?

      ‘Nothing, because it’s a computer error or a mix-up in the lab. Don’t worry about it, Dad,’ said Ellie. ‘Blooming rip-off! For all we know, TreeFynder doesn’t even have a real lab and it’s a couple of kids with a chemistry set in their bedroom. Let’s forget it for now and have another drink. What do you all want?’

      Their father nodded but seemed confused and quiet. Marcus, however, would not be silenced. ‘But I’m still confused about exactly what the results mean,’ he said insistently. Scarlett loved her brother, for all his faults, but at this moment would have happily wished him to evaporate.

      ‘Marcus. There’s no point having the conversation. Now, come on, let me get you a drink.’

      As she looked at him, it hit her. Marcus and Ellie both had their father’s thick dark curly hair. Scarlett was fair. Her mum had light brown hair that the sun bleached in summer, but Scarlett was blonde all year round, and almost wheaten in the sunny months. Her hair was straight and easily tamed, which Ellie had always envied but Scarlett thought was a bit boring compared to Ellie’s bouncy curls. Her siblings had strong noses, ever so slightly ‘Roman’, according to Auntie Joan – which hadn’t amused Marcus, but had made Ellie burst out laughing and start muttering, ‘Hail, Great Caesar,’ to him.

      As they’d grown older, Ellie and Marcus had changed but had always at some point resembled their dad. Scarlett never had.

      If that test was accurate … Scarlett felt as if she was about to suffocate and her stomach clenched. She had to get out, or she might be sick, but Heidi blocked the doorway, her hands still in oven gauntlets. She’d obviously been there much longer than they’d realised.

      ‘I’m sure this is all a mistake, Roger,’ she said, looking at their father with pity. ‘Because if that test is accurate, it means that Ellie and Scarlett can’t possibly have the same father. One of them isn’t your daughter.’

       Chapter Three

       Nine months later October 1 2019

      ‘Ellie. Marcus here. I’m calling re: Christmas. I’ve got five mins between meetings so I thought I’d phone before you make any plans.’

      Ellie’s heart sank at the mention of Christmas.

      ‘Hi, Marcus …’ Ellie could hear phones ringing in the background of her brother’s Birmingham office, in sharp contrast to the quiet of Seaholly Manor.

      He launched in again, cutting her off.

      ‘It may only be the start of October, but you know Scarlett likes to organise us all. Or used to. It’s of no matter anyway, because we won’t be coming to the manor for Christmas. Although after last year’s catastrophe, I expect you’ve already worked that one out. I’m assuming that Mum and Dad won’t be there either.’

      She held the phone away from her ear, trying to rein in her irritation. Finding out that their family wasn’t what they’d thought had been a hell of a shock for all of them, but Marcus had taken it very hard.

      ‘I don’t know what their plans are yet,’ she said patiently.

      ‘Whatever they decide to do – or not do – we definitely won’t be coming down to Cornwall. We’ve booked a skiing chalet in Courcheval with some friends and we leave on the twenty-seventh. Heidi thought it would be good for the boys to get some exercise instead of lazing about, and besides, they’re getting to the age where they’d rather be with their mates than hanging around with family in a draughty old house. And, to be honest, Heidi still hasn’t got over the trauma of last year. None of us have—’

      ‘Right …’ Ellie interrupted his flow. He sounded irritated and guilty and her own patience was running out as fast as sand in an egg timer. Which reminded her of last Christmas. Heidi’s face when Ellie had told her the eggnog tasted like sick. Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.

      ‘Um, Els … Have you seen Mum recently? I’ve been worried about her.’ Marcus’s clipped tone lost its edge, instantly taking Ellie back to the unsure younger brother she used to know. He did love their parents dearly and had been especially close to their mother. Marcus and his dad hadn’t always got on that well, but the bomb that Scarlett’s ‘Christmas gift’ had lobbed into that relationship had changed the dynamics.

      Marcus was finding it hard to believe his mum had had an affair, and even harder to believe she wouldn’t admit to it. They all were, although Ellie’s priority was to support both parents in trying to save their marriage, which until eleven a.m. last Christmas Day, had appeared to be long and happy. Scarlett had been and still was devastated and since then, Ellie had had to set aside her own feelings of shock and disbelief to support the others as best she could. Privately, however, she’d spent many sleepless nights worrying about its devastating effects on her family.

      ‘Ellie?’

      ‘Not since she came to stay a couple of weeks ago. I’ve spoken to her on the phone plenty of times. She called me from work. I’ve spoken to Dad, too.’

      ‘And? Have they come to any decisions?’

      ‘Not yet. They’re still sleeping in separate rooms from what I can work out. Scarlett paid them a visit a couple of days ago.’

      ‘I’m surprised they let her in the house!’

      ‘Dad invited her … but Mum was there too. Marcus, how many times do I have to tell you that this mess isn’t Scarlett’s fault?’

      ‘I