‘Don’t take my baby.’
Physically wrung out from the horror of giving birth—it had been way more painful than she’d ever imagined possible—Rebecca tries to sit up in the bed as she calls to the nurse holding her newborn.
‘Can I hold him?’
‘It’ll be easier for you if you don’t. He’s healthy. Now rest.’
‘I want to see him! You can’t stop me seeing him!’
‘Calm yourself, Rebecca. He’s not your child.’
But, not caring what her mother or the old matron-like nurse thinks, digging deep to find some leftover inner strength, she hurls back the thin cotton sheet, uncaring of the blood dripping from her as she hurls herself at the nurse.
‘Give him to me. Let me see him.’
Reluctantly, the nurse turns and, although still gripping the tiny baby, she slowly angles him so that Rebecca can see. Her heart gasps, she feels like she might faint as she stares down at the beauty and simple perfection of this tiny human. I made him. Pride soars within her. She feels a sense of satisfaction, of cleverness.
But, as she reaches out to stroke her finger over its soft, milky skin, its face changes. The nurse is still holding a baby’s body but there is an adult face attached. She shrinks back and screams.
Looking up at her is Josie.
‘Rebecca?’ Hugh’s concerned voice jolted her from her sleep and she opened her eyes to see her husband sitting up, looking down at her, his body a silhouette in the light of the bedside lamp. ‘Are you okay? Can I get you a drink?’
‘I’m …’ Her heart still racing, she took a breath. ‘I’m fine, I just had a nightmare.’
‘Want to talk about it?’ he asked, his brow unfurrowing as he reached out to stroke his thumb over her cheek. ‘Geez, you’re hot. You’re burning up. I’m going to get you a glass of water and a cold flannel.’
As he hurried off, Rebecca closed her eyes again and forced deep breaths in and out of her lungs. This was getting out of hand. Night after night that same disturbing scene played over and over in her head. The dream itself wasn’t exactly new—over the past thirty-five years she’d often dreamt of that awful day—but its frequency had increased over the past week and tonight the finale had changed.
Tonight, the suspicion plaguing her since Paige had summoned her to see the wedding dress had finally infiltrated her slumber and she’d woken in a cold sweat.
Josie is a girl. My baby was a boy.
This had become a mantra the past few days and she said it to herself again now. There was no possible way that Josie was her baby.
Unless they lied.
Her whole body turned to ice. No, the notion seemed preposterous—what reason could her parents possibly have had to lie about the sex of her baby all these years? But maybe there’d been some kind of mix-up.
Before Rebecca could think this possibility through, Hugh returned to the room, carrying a glass of water and a carefully folded damp flannel. He perched on the edge of the bed and offered her the drink. Although it was cold, it didn’t quench the thirst deep within her. It didn’t make her feel any better and neither did the cold cloth when he gently laid it on her forehead.
He appeared to have forgotten about her nightmare and was more concerned about her health. ‘You’ve got a dialysis appointment tomorrow afternoon, don’t you? Maybe you should see if Dr Chopra is available and have a chat about how you’re feeling. Or do you think we should go get you checked out now?’
It was three o’clock in the morning and she was pretty certain any doctor would discover her to be physically fine, well, aside from her increased heart-rate and the condition they already knew about.
‘No.’ She put the cloth on the bedside table and forced a smile for her husband. ‘Come back to bed. I’m okay.’
Hugh took a moment to acquiesce. ‘Okay, but if you’re still not feeling great in the morning, I’ll take the day off and drive you to dialysis.’
Then he switched off the lamp and climbed in beside her. As he held her close, Rebecca lay there wondering if it was time to confide in him. Keeping it all cooped up inside was driving her insane. But what would she say?
Hey darling, I know I haven’t mentioned this before, but a long time ago, before we met, I had a baby. All these years I’ve thought I had a son, but now I think maybe I actually had a girl.
What part of that statement would he hear first? Would he be angry? Hugh had always been such a rational, reasonable person and it wasn’t like she’d had an affair or anything. All this had happened thirty-five years ago; he might be shocked, maybe a little hurt she’d kept a secret, but he would recover quickly and then he’d be able to tell her what the hell to do.
‘Hugh?’ she finally whispered in the dark.
‘Mmm.’ He already sounded half asleep again.
‘If I tell you something big … will you promise not to get angry with me?’
In reply, he loosened his grip on her and switched on the bedside light. ‘What is it?’
Rebecca blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light; she noticed he didn’t make any promises. Nausea filled her gut and her mouth went dry.
‘What’s wrong?’ A slight panic crept into his usually calm voice. ‘What have you done?’
‘I had another baby once.’ Just that one statement had tears rushing to her eyes; she wasn’t sure she’d even be able to get the rest out.
Hugh shook his head slightly as if perhaps this was a dream. ‘I’m sorry.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Did you say you have another child? Apart from Paige?’ She could almost see the cogs ticking in his brain as he tried to grapple with this news. ‘How? Before me?’
She managed a nod.
‘But you were practically a child when we met. Your parents joked you didn’t even have a proper boyfriend before me. I thought you were a virgin!’
‘They lied.’ About that and who knew what else. And, she herself had never actually told him she was a virgin, but she’d never corrected his assumptions either. Probably not the time to get hung up on semantics.
Hugh slumped back against the headboard and ran his hand through his hair. ‘This is a hell of a conversation for three o’clock in the morning.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said simply. She’d had over thirty years to come clean—all that time she’d been searching for the right moment and now she could see there was never a perfect moment for confessions like these. How had she ever thought burying it was a good idea? In that moment she hated her parents for making her think it was.
‘I guess you better start talking,’ he said eventually, his tone chillingly cold. ‘Who was the father? What happened to the baby? Was it a boy or a girl?’
‘I can answer the first two questions, but the third one is giving me the nightmares.’
‘Stop talking in riddles,’ Hugh snapped. ‘What happened?’
And so she told him.
‘I was fifteen when I got pregnant to my high school boyfriend—he was seventeen. We were terrified when we found out but he said he’d stand by me, that he’d support me and the baby, and we’d get married as soon as we were old enough. My parents were horrified—they worried what their church friends would say and Dad thought it looked bad that the sergeant couldn’t stop his own daughter from making such stupid mistakes. Robbie and I told them we were in love, but then Robbie got cold feet. He changed his mind and said he didn’t want to have anything to do with me or the baby anymore.’
She swallowed—remembering just how painful that declaration had been.
‘Without his help, what choice did I have? Mum and I went to stay with an old school friend of hers who had moved to Perth—she told everyone we were going to look after a sick relative. I had the baby there and then gave it up. By the time we returned to New South Wales, Dad had been transferred back to the city from Cobar and Anthony was already at high school in Sydney. Mum and Dad told me to move on as well, to forget about Robbie and remember that the baby was in a better place.’
‘And just like that, you forgot?’
‘No, of course not.’ She sniffed, hurt by the derision in his voice. ‘Giving up a child is something you never forget. Giving birth to Paige made it all so real again—the depression I had then was as much about losing my first baby as it was about her or new motherhood.’
‘Perhaps you could have told me back then? Maybe I’d have understood better how you were feeling.’ Before she could reply, he added, ‘So why now? Why at three in the morning do you decide to tell me all this? Is it because you’re sick?’
‘No. That’s not the r—’
‘This child of yours,’ he interrupted, sitting up straight as if a light bulb had gone off inside his head, ‘They might be a kidney match.’
She swallowed, suddenly remembering why she hadn’t wanted to say anything until she was well again.
‘That’s not why,’ she said. ‘There’s no way I would find my child only to ask them for a kidney. That would feel worse than asking a stranger in the street. But being sick brought it all back. It’s like they say, when you die your life flashes before your eyes, you think about regrets … you start to wonder if you should have made different choices. I couldn’t stop thinking about him and—’
‘And that’s why you’re telling me? Because you’ve decided you want to start searching?’
She flinched at the anger in his voice, but shook her head. ‘No. I’m telling you because I think I’ve already found her.’
‘Her?’ Hugh screwed up his whole face. ‘Didn’t you just say him a second ago? What did you have—a boy or a girl?’
‘I thought I had a boy, that’s what I was told—that’s what I believed—but I never got close, I never held him. All I had was a photo, and then a week ago, when I went to Josie’s house with Paige—I saw another photo that looked almost the same as mine. I thought maybe it was her husband, but no, it was a baby photo of Josie and I know it sounds crazy, but she’d be around the same age my child would be, and she looks a little like me. She and Nik got married in Perth so perhaps she was born there, and I recently read about genetic sexual attraction. She and Paige hit it off instantly.’
‘Are you saying Paige has a romantic interest in Josie?’ His disbelief came through loud and clear.
‘No, but they’ve got some sort of connection and …’ She sighed. ‘I just can’t get it out of my head that somehow Josie is my child.’
Rebecca wanted Hugh to tell her that she was being crazy—that there was no way Josie was hers. She wanted him to wrap his arms around her and tell her it was okay, that this wasn’t going to come between them and he’d help her sort it out. But instead, he turned, threw back the covers, climbed out of bed and stalked from the room.
She sat frozen, wondering if she should go after him as she cringed at the sound of him banging around in the kitchen. When she heard the kettle boiling, she decided to be brave and go out and join him.
Hugh was standing at the bench, stirring a spoon in his mug. ‘What are you planning to do now?’ he asked, not turning around to look at her or offer to make her a drink.
‘I’ve sent away for information about the adoption, but it might still be a few weeks before I get it.’ She didn’t mention that she’d phoned the Western Australian organisation responsible for adoption information twice this week to ask, and then beg, if there was any way they could speed up her application. The answer had been no. ‘I guess then I’ll know for sure.’
‘And then what will you do? Do you plan on confronting your child?’
That was a question Rebecca wasn’t able to answer. ‘I’m not sure. I guess it depends on what the information tells me. If Josie is my daughter—and Paige has become such good friends with her—it’s going to be hard to ignore that.’
‘What a mess.’ Hugh exhaled loudly, put down his mug and buried his face in his hands. Was he crying? Part of Rebecca felt like a weight had been lifted now she’d told him, but by lightening her load she’d complicated his life.
‘I’m sorry.’ She crossed over to him and put her hand on his shoulder.
He didn’t say anything for a long time and he didn’t turn to her and hug her like she wanted him to do. ‘You know, you could just ask your parents,’ he said eventually. ‘I think it’s highly unlikely that Josie is your daughter. What you’ve said sounds pretty farfetched, but at least if you confront them you’ll know whether your suspicions have any substance.’
Why hadn’t she thought of that before? Probably because until this latest dream, the thought of them lying had never entered her head. She glanced at the time on the microwave clock. Still too early to pay her folks a visit.
‘Good idea. I’ll do it today. Will you come with me?’ Rebecca could face anything if she had Hugh beside her.
‘I can’t. I’ve got too much on.’
Those seven words spoke volumes. Rebecca bit her lip, refraining from mentioning that less than an hour ago he’d told her he could take the day off and go with her to dialysis. ‘Are you mad at me?’
Slowly, he turned to look at her. ‘I’m fucking furious,’ he said coldly and then retreated to their bedroom.
Rebecca didn’t go back to bed. She made herself a cup of tea, then pulled out her laptop and spent the next few hours searching for information. She’d been too scared to try this before in case somehow Hugh saw her search history, but now everything was out in the open, it didn’t matter. Perhaps she could find something about Josie that would set her mind at ease, prove her fears were ridiculous, and then she wouldn’t have to confront her parents.
She’d had to stop herself outright asking Paige if she knew if Josie was adopted or what her birthday was. Her daughter already thought she was acting weird—such questions would be a dead giveaway and there was no guarantee Paige had that kind of intel anyway. However much she professed to like Josie, she couldn’t know her very well after only a couple of weeks.
But, just like herself, Josie didn’t seem to have a digital footprint. She wasn’t on Facebook—Rebecca used Hugh’s account to check—and when she googled Josie’s married name, all she got was something on a school website about a theatre production. It was so damn infuriating, she had to stop herself throwing the laptop against the wall. Josie’s husband was on Facebook but he mostly posted photos of planes and the odd bowling score sheet. There was the occasional smiling photo of him and Josie, but of course she wasn’t tagged.
When Hugh came into the kitchen just after six am, she still hadn’t found anything useful. She offered him a tentative smile, but he refused to meet her gaze as he made himself a coffee. She’d hoped a few hours of sleep would have cooled his fury and that maybe he’d have changed his mind about coming to her parents’ place, but judging by the scowl on his face, he hadn’t had much sleep or cooled any.
He drank his coffee in silence and went to work earlier than he usually would.
‘Have a good day,’ she called as he headed down the hallway, but he didn’t even respond.
She snapped the laptop shut and glanced at the clock. By the time she had a shower, threw on some clothes and drove all the way to her parents’ house in Castle Hill, it wouldn’t be too early to visit.
Sweat was pouring off her skin as she parked on their driveway and she was barely managing to control her breathing. Every sensible bone in her body told her she was overreacting—Hugh had said as much. Her parents would probably laugh out loud at her question about whether she’d had a girl, but then at least it would alleviate her fixation with Josie. And, until she knew for sure she wouldn’t be able to shut down the adrenaline charging through her body.
Despite the early hour, the back door would be unlocked—you’d think her father’s job as a cop would have taught him to be more security conscious, but he’d always thought himself invincible. Usually Rebecca would just let herself in, but since she rarely visited her folks without at least a phone call first—they weren’t what you’d call close—she chose to ring the doorbell. When no one came to the door within a minute she rang it again.
‘What are you doing here at this hour?’ her mother asked by way of a greeting the moment she opened the front door.
Rebecca wasn’t in the mood for small talk anyway. ‘I’ve come to ask you a question. Where’s Dad?’
‘He’s still in bed. His angina was playing up overnight, but these days we have no reason to hurry up anyway. I’m going to call the doctor and see if I can get him an appointment later.’
Rebecca didn’t have the headspace to worry about her father’s heart problems right now, but perhaps this was fortuitous. Her mother had less practice at deflecting uncomfortable conversations.
‘Is something the matter? You look terrible. Have you missed a dialysis session? Let me get you a cup of tea.’ Her mum reached out to touch her elbow but Rebecca shook her off.
‘Did I have a daughter?’
Jeanie blinked and, in the second she hesitated before answering, Rebecca saw panic flash across her face. ‘What are you talking about? Of course you have a daughter. Paige is the light of all our lives.’
‘I’m not talking about Paige,’ Rebecca said, her voice rising. ‘The child you made me adopt out. Was it a girl or a boy?’
‘Why are you bringing this up after all these years?’ Jeanie’s voice was hushed and she looked over her shoulder as if worried her husband might wake. ‘You know the adoption was for the best. You were only a child yourself.’
‘Oh my God.’ Rebecca staggered back and hit her hip against the hallway table. A vase of flowers fell off and crashed against the floor—she barely noticed the noise or the pain. Her mother was a terrible liar. Or so she’d thought. ‘Why can’t you just answer the damn question? Tell me the truth? Did I have a boy or a girl?’
Hugging her arms against her chest, Jeanie started to sob. ‘We only did what we thought was best—no one wants their teenage daughter to have a baby, everything we did was to protect you.’
‘Just! Answer! The damn! Question!’
Her father appeared in the doorway. ‘What the hell is going on?’ The scowl on his face told Rebecca he was annoyed to have been woken from his slumber. Well, too damn bad. His wrath had nothing on hers.
‘Mum’s just told me that all these years I thought I had given away a son, but I actually have another daughter.’
Her mum looked as if Rebecca had slapped her across the face.
‘What?’ Her father’s fists bunched and the ugly veins in his neck visibly did the same.
‘I said no such thing,’ Jeanie rushed, her tone fearful. She’d always been under her husband’s thumb.
‘But it’s true, isn’t it, Dad?’
The expression on his face told her everything.
‘Stop lying to me. Surely after thirty-five years you owe me the truth. Do I have a daughter?’
Her parents nodded simultaneously, but only her mother’s expression showed the slightest remorse. So, Rebecca hadn’t been going crazy. Her relief was short-lived.
‘Why? Why lie?!’
‘It was your mother’s idea. It was already done by the time she told me, but it impressed me.’
And this surprised her almost as much as the shocking truth. ‘What?’ She looked to her mum.
‘Whenever you mentioned the baby, you called it a girl,’ Jeannie admitted and Rebecca remembered the intense gut feeling she’d had at the time. ‘I thought because in your head the baby was a girl, you’d be in less pain about giving it up if you thought it was a boy. I was only trying to make things easier for you.’
‘Less pain? Easier?’ Rebecca was torn between laughing and crying and grabbing hold of her mother and shaking her silly. ‘There is nothing but pain when you give up a child. I’ve spent decades nursing that pain and it would have been the same no matter what the sex of the baby.’
‘What’s brought all this up now?’ her father asked, his voice still irritatingly calm. ‘Is it to do with your disease? Your need for a familial donor?’
‘It’s got nothing to do with that.’ She didn’t owe them any kind of explanation and Rebecca couldn’t bear to look at either of them a second longer.
As she turned and stormed out of the house, her mother still whimpering, her father called out, ‘Don’t do anything stupid. Remember what’s at stake?’
She resisted the urge to spin on her heel and scream at him. What? What was he referring to? Her marriage? Her relationship with Paige? Or was he still worried about the shame this revelation could bring on him, on them? Even after all these years, did he still care about what people would think about his slutty daughter? In 1983, the world was becoming more accepting of sex before marriage and single mums. But her parents and the church they’d belonged to were not.
A few moments later she slammed her car door and sat there in silence, trying to digest what she’d just been told.
Somewhere out there she had another daughter.
Was it possible Josie was that child?
Yes, even without the confirmation from the adoption certificate, even without a DNA test, she knew. In her heart, she’d always known she’d recognise her child if she ever met them, and even before she’d entered Josie’s house, she’d had a gut feeling her world was about to change. The question was, what the hell should she do with this information?
Hugh. Hugh would have the answer.
Instinctively, she reached into her handbag for her phone, desperate to tell him her suspicions were true, but she stopped herself before pressing ‘call’. A tear snuck down her cheek as she recalled his coldness of a couple of hours ago. He’d made it very clear this was her problem. She may have found a daughter but had she lost her husband in the process? She’d never felt more alone in her life.
Registering movement in her periphery, Rebecca glanced up to see her mum heading towards her. Although she needed to talk to someone, she didn’t trust herself to let either of her parents be that person, so she put her car into reverse and sped out of the driveway before her mother could get close.