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‘You’ve no need to be nervous, Margaret. We have all the documents they asked for, plus copies of our records of service. I’m sure they’ll decide we are appropriate parents for our child.’ Geoffrey reached for her hand and held it until the door behind them was opened and a man entered, with a stenographer following quietly behind, her mid-grey jacket and skirt blending into the shadows. She sat at a small desk in front of the window and opened a notebook without making eye contact.
The middle-aged man in a smart three-piece suit, his thinning hair combed over his bald pate, stopped beside them and held out his hand. ‘Dr and Mrs Ransom? I’m Philip Soames, head of the department. Given the regrettable error that allowed the unlawful adoption of your daughter, I’ll be conducting this interview today.’
Geoffrey stood and shook Mr Soames’s hand. ‘Pleased to meet you.’
Soames nodded to Meg then sat behind the desk, reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a pair of round spectacles which he proceeded to polish in slow, deliberate circles. He held them up to the window. Apparently satisfied with their clarity, he set them on his nose then opened the file that had been sitting on the desk when they arrived. He scanned the first page then turned it over and scanned the next.
Meg sat up straighter, but her grip on her handbag tightened with each ticking minute as he read documents he must surely know well. After all, if the head of the department was meeting with them, it must be because Jennifer’s adoption had been illegal and he was in damage control.
Soames reached the end of the third page, folded his hands and looked at Meg. ‘Mrs Ransom, please clarify for me: at any time, in written form or by any verbal indication, did you agree to allow the convent to take your child for adoption?’
‘Never. When Sister Rosemary, the nun who spoke to me the first time I visited said that they would not accept my child for temporary fostering, only for adoption, I made it very clear that I did not intend to give up my child.’
Soames nodded and his gaze shifted to Geoffrey. ‘Do you intend to adopt this child as your own?’
‘I do. I’ve known Margaret since early in 1942, and I’ve known about her child since before she was born.’
The clock at City Hall chimed noon, and still the questions rolled on, the stenographer recording their answers, and Mr Soames slowly ticking items off a list. Finally, he put the cap back on his fountain pen and looked from Geoffrey to Meg.
Meg jumped into the quiet moment with a question of her own. ‘Surely a doctor and a nursing sister must be considered the most fitting of parents for any child, especially given the fact I am Jennifer’s biological mother?’
‘We must be absolutely certain we have everything correct, Mrs Ransom. The Minister hopes that lessons may be learned from your case, so such an event never happens again. But . . .’ He nodded at the stenographer who rose and handed him a typed page. He set it on the desk between them. ‘If you would be kind enough to sign this statement, which promises you will not go to the newspapers with your story, I believe we can satisfactorily conclude our meeting.’
‘Does that mean—’
‘We will take the necessary steps to return your daughter to you. You will never know who she was adopted out to. Their privacy will remain protected. You will be advised of the place and time when you will be able to collect her. Once you’ve signed the document . . .’ He proffered his pen.
Collect her? My daughter is not a parcel to be collected.
But she bit the inside of her cheek and kept the thought to herself. Taking the pen, she signed her name then handed it to Geoffrey, who did likewise and handed the paper and pen back to Soames.
‘Excellent. Miss Frobisher, would you also sign as a witness and date the document?’
Miss Frobisher stood at the end of the desk and when she was finished, Mr Soames added his signature. ‘You’ll be hearing from us soon.’
‘Mr Soames?’ Now she knew Jennifer would be coming home, Meg’s confidence grew.
‘Yes, Mrs Ransom?’
‘How long will it be before Jennifer will be back with me—with us?’
‘Within the fortnight.’
‘Why so long now all the paperwork is complete?’
‘Because the family who adopted her live a long way from Brisbane. Travel takes time, but we are making arrangements for her imminent return. And now, if you’ll excuse me. Good day, Mrs Ransom. Dr Ransom.’
##
Two weeks felt like forever. Meg cooked, and cleaned, and sewed new summer clothes for Jennifer, but the days dragged in a way she’d never known. If she’d been working in a hospital—
No regrets, she reminded herself when Geoffrey came home from his increasingly busy days and shared snippets of an operation he’d just performed. The intake of first year medical students was happening tomorrow.
And Jennifer was coming home. Of course, both events were on the same day, but Geoffrey had promised he’d get away for an hour to be with her when Jennifer arrived.
Meg stuck her head around the door of the lounge room and marvelled at the decorations. It looked like Christmas and a child’s birthday party all rolled into one.
‘What do you think? Enough or too much?’ Gerry was pinning a garland along the mantelpiece, while an upbeat Jimmy Dorsey record played on the Victrola. Her hips swayed along to the beat. She stepped back to survey her handiwork.
Meg joined her, slipping an arm around her waist. ‘Everything is wonderful—or nearly so.’
‘You need your daughter to make it perfect.’
Meg thought of her daughter’s sweet face the last time she’d been home. Last year felt so long ago. ‘I hope Jennifer hasn’t forgotten me.’
‘No chance, Meg.’
‘But she’s probably been calling some other woman ‘mum’ for the past few weeks. And she’s only three. And—’ The choking sensation hit again, as it did each time she thought of what they had lost. Time they could never recoup.
‘Don’t expect the worst. She loved you before she was taken, and she’ll love you when she comes home again, even if she takes a few days to settle in. If she’s a little hesitant, it won’t last.’ Tipping her head to the side, Gerry eyed off the garland then stepped in close and fiddled with it, hanging it in the same spot.
There was nothing wrong with how it was hung. Likely Gerry guessed Meg was feeling tearful. While Gerry’s back was turned, Meg wiped her eyes and took a calming deep breath. ‘You’re right. Is there anything else to go under the Christmas tree?’ The poinsettia was still doing well in its pot. Beneath its red leaves, a small pile of presents waited for Jennifer to open.
‘I got carried away and put my gift there this morning. I hope I’ve got her size right.’
Again, that feeling she’d lost precious time with Jennifer rose like nausea within her. And yet, she couldn’t regret the time she’d worked in Currajong, or flying medical evacuations and repatriation flights. Did that make her a bad mother, or an overly committed nurse? She shook her head, mainly to stop her own thoughts. ‘Do you think she’ll have grown very much?’
‘In two months? I can’t imagine it.’ Gerry twined her fingers together and peered at Meg. ‘I swapped shifts so I can be here when you get home with Jennifer. I hope that’s okay?’
Meg smiled. ‘I wouldn’t have it any other way. Having her family around her is the most important thing.’
Gerry blew out an audible breath. ‘I’m so happy to hear that. Oh, look at the time. I’ve got to go or I’ll be late for my shift tonight. Hooroo.’