Gracie’s already heard about the foundling before I even have the chance to get home. Her eyes are bright, and I know something’s playing on her mind, but she doesn’t say much beyond, ‘I pity the poor woman who gave up her child. Who on God’s sweet earth would do such a thing?’
I tell her that the baby is a little girl, she wasn’t set adrift, and she isn’t about to lead anyone into the promised land, that’s for certain.
Gracie sniffs and sets the table. She doles out a stew made of scrag-end and potatoes, and still makes it taste like a plateful of heaven.
Once we’ve finished our dinner and our boy’s left the table, she asks me what’s to become of the baby.
‘Well, that depends on a few things,’ I reply. ‘Firstly, the baby’s had a bit of a rough ride. She’s still in hospital, and they don’t know if she’ll survive. Even if she does, they say that she may be retarded.’
I don’t tell her that the doctor thinks the mother may have tried to strangle her baby with the umbilical cord, before apparently leaving her in a box on a stranger’s doorstep overnight to die.
I continue, ‘If she does survive, then we’ll be searching for her mother.’
I don’t tell her that we’ll be searching for her mother in order to have her committed as a lunatic.
Gracie sighs. ‘I believe she’s a sign to all that we need to keep our hearts open, even in this troubled time, and that we must be slow to judge the actions of others.’
She gathers up the plates and I follow her into the kitchen, where the boy’s tucked up on a chair with his knees under his chin, reading a book. Just like his dad. As a kid, I could never find enough books to read. When school failed me, I began reading everything and anything, and I guess I never stopped.
She turns to him. ‘Do be a dear, and go read your book in the other room, Mikey. Your father and I have things to discuss.’
Mikey throws me a look which suggests to me that he thinks the discussion will centre around him. He thinks he’s done something wrong. I shake my head, but it only makes it worse.
‘Don’t worry, lad, it’s not about you.’
‘Then why can’t I stay and listen?’ he asks me.
‘Adult talk, Mikey. Not fit for young ears.’
He groans and leaves the room. For good measure, I shut the door behind him.
I pick up the tea towel and settle next to the sink. ‘I need your help with this one, Gracie. I suspect that the mother of the child isn’t married and she may be a local woman. We asked the doctor and the nurses, but no one knows of anyone due to have a baby about now, and no woman has come in for any treatment since. It makes me think that she might be young.’
‘Perhaps she isn’t a local after all,’ says Gracie.
‘Wangamba’s too far from everywhere else and it’s too small for a woman to come to on purpose, just to give birth. If she wanted to go some place where her condition wouldn’t be discovered, she’d be far better off in a big town. That’s why I think she’s a local lass and that’s why I think she’s young.’
‘You may be right. Possibly the poor girl didn’t even realise what was happening to her.’ She looks away, plugs the sink and runs the tap. ‘So what do you want me to do?’
‘I need you to remember. I want you to think back over the last few months. Perhaps you might have seen one of our young ladies in the family way and trying to hide it? Perhaps you might have noticed her in church, or at the shops?’
‘I don’t know… I’ll have to mull it over,’ she begins. ‘I’ll keep my eyes peeled.’
‘She’s only recently had the baby, so you may hear of someone’s daughter doing poorly.’
‘Well, if I do, I’ll let you know.’ She hands me a wet plate. ‘If the baby does survive, and if you don’t find the mother, or if she doesn’t want the baby… Well, do you think we might be able to raise her?’
‘That’s an awful lot of ifs, Gracie, and don’t forget she could well be a handful. I don’t think it’s something we should do.’
‘Hmm.’
I can tell the thought hasn’t left her mind. ‘Let’s not discuss it tonight. There’ll be plenty of time for us to talk it over,’ I say, although my mind is dead set against it. ‘In the meantime…’
‘Don’t worry,’ she replies, ‘If I hear something…’
She looks away and never finishes the sentence.