Rosie sat in her parked car and stared at the geeen hall door. She wondered if she could find the courage to cross the road and knock. She had been awake all night again, tossing and turning and imagining this moment. After all of this time she had finally gotten the courage or at least she had thought that she had up to now.

Her hands were shaking and she was sweating despite the cool of the late afternoon. She noticed that there was a large plant container to the right hand side of the door that was overflowing with red flowers. Rosie wondered if he had grown them himself, if he had inherited her greenfingers.

Then she told herself that she was being stupid, dwelling on stupid stuff, stuff that didn't matter a jot in the whole scheme of things. There were much bigger issues to be faced.

She had worn her dark blue suit but she was sorry now, it made her look like a nun she thought. She'd spent ages yesterday trying on different clothes trying to decide what to wear. She had wanted to look just right. The pale pink one would have been better with a pretty scarf to brighten it up perhaps.

She knew that she was dawdling and putting off the moment. She needed to just do it she told herself. Rosie got out of the car and crossed the street and looked into the garden, half hiding behind the hedge. It was well kept. The lawn was freshly cut.

She looked up at the smart house and noticed some pink gingham curtains on the box room window, with a pink teddy bear on the window cill. My God, did he have a child? How had she never thought of that possibility? Of course he could she reminded herself. He was almost thirty after all. But he'd always been a little boy in her head.

Stop running away with yourself, she said, it didn't mean anything, there could be any number of people living in the house for all she knew. But still, there was a child – a little girl. Maybe she was a Nana. The shock of this caught her off guard and she needed to gather her thoughts once again.

She crossed back to the car and sat back into it shaking. She reached into the glove compartment and took our her sneaky packet of Rothmans. If she ever needed a cigarette she needed one now.

In hindsight it looked like there was no one home, there was no car in the driveway anyway. She could just drive off and pretend that today had never happened. Then she wouldn't have to tell Joe. The girls need never know that they had a brother who was more ten years older than them.

What disruption it would cause she thought, to so many people. Would Joe ever be able to forgive her? She had agonised over this scenario in her head thousands of times over the years. She had never let go of the guilt that she had lied to Joe since the beginning and for all this time. Well not lied so much as not telling the truth. There had been so many times that she could have told him in the early days but the longer it went unsaid the more difficult it got. She'd kept this secret for so long, maybe it was best to just leave things as they were she argued with herself.

But in her heart she knew that she couldn't live the lie any longer. She needed to meet him, to talk to him and explain. She'd only been fifteen and rural Ireland was a very different place then. Her Father wouldn't hear of taking another child into an already over spilling household and she knew that he was so ashamed of her. Her Mother had died a year earlier and left five children.

So she'd had no choice, no support from anyone. Then a couple of years later it was off to college and a teaching career and it was like it had never happened. It was never spoken about. But Rosie of course had never forgotten the few precious minutes she had held him in the home. The smell of Johnson's powder had haunted her all of her life, even when the girls were babies.

It had been so difficult to know and have to just accept that he had been 'adopted' by the Kellys from the town. Nothing official of course, things like that happened in those days. And then, almost straight away the Kelly family had sold up and emmigated to America so no mention of it was made ever again. It was as if he had never existed. Rosie had called her baby son David, and had asked that he keep that name, at least they had honoured her wish.

Then just last year she had heard that Doctor Kelly had died in America and was being brought home to Ireland to be buried in Westport. She had made up an excuse about visiting a friend for a couple of days and taken a trip to the West to attend the funeral. She had hovered at the back of the church in her oversized sunglasses and kept a low profile.

Dr. Kelly's family had carried the coffin down the centre aisle of the church and she knew straight away that the tall dark haired lad at the front of the coffin was her son. He was the spitting image of Michael O'Reilly. Outside in the church yard she mingled with the very large crowd and tried to eavesdrop on bits and pieces of conversations, gathering little bits of information here and there.

It had taken a lot of detective work on her part but once she knew what he looked like she was hopeful of finding him through social media. After much searching she'd eventually discovered that he'd been back in Ireland for over three years and was working and living in Bray.

She knew that she had been wrong in the way she'd been stalking him lately. She had toyed with the idea of sending him a message but always chickened out. There was no agency that could help her as it hadn't been a legal adoption. Could she really just knock on his door and turn his life upside down? Was there any other way? The only things she knew about him were what she had seen online and there was very little. Most of his accounts were private.

She didn't even know if he knew that he'd been 'adopted'. Surely he must have been at least suspicious surrounded by all the fair and freckled people in his family. He was like a Spaniard in comparison.

As Rosie stubbed out her cigarette, a large black jeep turned the corner and pulled into the driveway of the house. Her handsome son got out of the car and lifted out a baby carrier. A pretty blonde girl emerged from the car carrying a large pink balloon with “It's a girl” emblazened on it. With their arms wrapped around each other's waist they went into the house and she watched as he kissed her lightly on the top of her head.

Rosie put on her seatbelt and started the car engine. Not now then, not today. Maybe in a couple of months when they are settled, she told herself as she drove out of the quiet cul de sac crying softly. But she was certain of one thing, she was telling Joe. Today.