June 1972
Annie
Another wet, dreary day of trying to get endless loads of washing dry and school uniforms ironed. The pile of mending would have to wait until later, after Angela was asleep, the boys finally in bed and the household quiet. That was the time of day she relished – just her and Dave sitting quietly in front of the open fire, him reading the newspaper he hadn’t had a chance to glance at all day, and her with the mending.
The tension between them was slowly abating. After the shock of Lara’s return, Annie had clung to Angela with a fierce desperation that had scared the child. She’d kept her home from school, refusing to let her out of her sight. The fear of losing her was overwhelming. At first, she and Dave had hardly known how to speak to each other, and when they did it was in hushed tones away from the keen ears of the children. Their muttered discussions about what to do had finally been resolved. Only then did Annie begin to release her grip on Angela and allow her to return to school.
Mark had been in no state to argue. His whole world had been tipped on its head. He’d left in a daze for Sydney and the divorce case, leaving Charlie in their care. And the wedding? It wasn’t even talked about, a detail abandoned in the chaos Lara had left in her wake.
A sharp knock on the door jolted Annie out of the rhythmic swoosh of a hot iron on cotton school shirts. She wasn’t expecting anyone and her tribe weren’t due home from school quite yet.
‘Hi, Annie.’
A shot of guilt hit her in the stomach. It was Catherine. They hadn’t had a chance to talk since the day Lara’s return had shattered their world. Annie had been secretly relieved. How could she explain? Catherine’s face was drawn and set in a determined frown.
‘I left school early. I wanted to see you, on your own.’
Annie recovered her senses and forced a smile. ‘Come in. Since when do you knock?’
‘Since I have no idea where I stand any more, or who to trust. Since I don’t know what’s true and what’s a lie.’
Annie took a deep breath but said nothing as Catherine followed her through to the kitchen. She turned off the iron. Housework would have to wait. ‘Cup of tea?’
‘We don’t have much time. The school bus will be here soon. I need to know what happened, Annie. I’ve been going crazy. I guess you know I sent Mark packing.’
‘Sit down, at least. I’m going to. Been on my feet all day.’ Annie shoved a pile of washing to one side and sat at the kitchen table. Slowly Catherine followed suit, sitting opposite her. Her eyes were fierce and Annie steadied herself for the onslaught.
‘Tell me what happened. I’ve been left in the dark. I doubt Mark has said a true word to me since we met. You’ve been no better. Lie after lie. Now I need to know the truth. From the beginning.’
‘From the beginning?’ A lump formed in Annie’s throat. She had longed for a girl, swearing she’d never treat her daughter the way her parents had treated her. She’d love her no matter what. ‘My baby died. My little girl. She came early.’ At the time Annie had felt as though she was being punished all over again and that her mother was right. Annie was unworthy. She didn’t deserve a daughter of her own.
‘I’m sorry, Annie. I never knew. You never told me. I could have—’
‘No, you couldn’t. No one could help. I was in a dark place.’ She closed her eyes briefly, remembering. The hole inside had deepened endlessly, plunging her into a place so bleak she thought she’d never find her way out. Part of her had never wanted to. ‘Then Lara came with Angela. She said, “Take her, she’s yours.” She hadn’t known what to do when Charlie was born and never wanted to go through it again.’ Annie’s voice faltered. ‘Lara said her baby girl was meant for me, not her. I swore that nothing would take Angela from me.’
‘But what about Dave? What did he say?’
‘He protested at first, but Lara left that same night and I—’ She faltered. ‘My arms were aching to hold a newborn baby. I’d made all the preparations …’ Annie took a breath. ‘Dave knew the arrangement made sense. But the thing you have to understand is that I was broken by my baby’s death. Finally a girl, but gone before she’d even lived. I couldn’t do anything. Couldn’t get out of bed. I was useless as a mother and a wife. Dave was suffering as well. But he couldn’t afford to grieve because he had to look after me as well as the boys.’
‘I tried to see you before I left for Hobart. Dave turned me away. He said you were struggling with the pregnancy. He never told me.’
‘We didn’t tell anyone except Mark. He must’ve told Lara.’
‘And Mark? Was he happy to give his daughter away too?’
Annie slumped. The weight of Mark’s anger and resentment was still a burden Annie carried every day. ‘No. But Lara was gone and he had Charlie to take care of. How was he going to look after a baby as well? Even if Lara came back, he knew what an unreliable mother she was. She could never cope with two.’ Annie had used that to justify her actions. Some women didn’t deserve to have children. ‘Then the fires came and everything changed.’
‘Yes.’ Catherine chewed her bottom lip. Annie looked at her properly for the first time since she’d arrived, remembering the tragedy her friend had suffered because of the bushfires.
Annie’s happiness had come at a price. She’d been wary at first; worried someone would find out, and terrified Lara would waltz back into her life and take Angela back as easily as she’d given her away. Then her fear was that Mark would try to reclaim his daughter, even though he was working in the orchard as well as caring for Charlie, and a baby would have been too much for him to handle. He’d hung around though, always keeping an eye on the baby, which made Annie anxious. It didn’t feel safe having him so close. She’d felt completely self-righteous about registering Angela’s birth in her own name. When Lara had thrust Angela into Annie’s empty arms she’d said, ‘Your baby was never reported. Nobody knows she’s gone. This is your baby now. Make it legal. Register her in your name. Yours and Dave’s.’
Annie was certain she’d done the right thing. Dave wasn’t convinced. His anger took her by surprise. But it was too late. He knew when he was beaten. It had been left to him to tell Mark and she knew it hadn’t gone well. Another reason to fear Mark’s presence. He mightn’t have a legal leg to stand on, but he could make trouble if he put his mind to it.
‘Didn’t you ever feel guilty? So many lies.’ Catherine sounded as though she genuinely wanted to know.
‘You don’t understand. Angela was mine. She was always meant to be mine. Lara said so herself. I never felt as though I was lying to anyone, especially not to you.’ And not to her mother. Annie had written to her mother to tell her about Angela, as she had with all her children, but this time it was different. She wanted her mother to know this daughter was loved, cherished and protected. She sent photos and regular updates, each one of them reminding her mother that Annie was better at raising a daughter than she was, that Annie was everything she wasn’t. Her mother never replied.
‘But your baby—’
‘I couldn’t bear to think about what happened, let alone talk about it.’ Somewhere on the property her baby lay. She’d never asked where. The thought only came to her occasionally now, fainter every year.
‘Surely you worried that the truth would come out one day?’
‘I was terrified. But after Lara was declared dead it made sense. Angela was better off with me and Dave, always had been.’
‘But Mark didn’t feel that way.’
When Mark finally went back to Melbourne, it had felt like the perfect outcome. Annie began to feel truly safe for the first time. But then he’d returned to the valley and proposed to Catherine, making the old fear raise its ugly head. Annie had become distracted and angry, always on edge and waiting for the axe to fall. Mark would tell Catherine the truth, claim Angela as his child and raise her with his new wife. But she could never admit this to Catherine. ‘No.’
‘And now Lara …’
Annie had fretted over every scenario, but she’d never expected this. Lara, back from the dead, and bringing the lies crashing down around all of them. ‘Yes, Lara. Like Lazarus, but in this case it was a miracle we could have done without. Especially you. I’m sorry, Catherine, about the wedding.’
Catherine blinked rapidly and looked away. ‘I’m too angry to even think about it.’ She faced Annie again. ‘So, what are you going to do now?’
The clatter of boys on the front steps, the front door opening, the thump as school bags were dumped in the hall and the calls of ‘Hi, Mum, anything to eat?’ stopped the conversation cold.
‘I’m going to get back to what I do best, being a mother.’ Annie rose and started fussing with the piles of washing.
‘Annie?’ Catherine’s voice was insistent.
Catherine would never understand. Her world was black and white – truth or lies with no room for anything in between. Annie saw things differently. When Lara had reappeared she’d made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with Angela other than a moment of curiosity, or Charlie for that matter. Her antipathy filled Annie both with rage and relief. How could a mother be so indifferent to her own children, abandoning them, just as Annie had been discarded by her mother? But her failure was Annie’s gain. Angela was hers and would always be. She raised her head. ‘I’m going to do the right thing.’