‘And what about Brenda? She seemed such a lovely woman. I completely trusted her.’
‘Brown groomed lonely women like Brenda, befriending them online, letting them believe they were in a relationship with him. He’d meet up with them, gain their confidence, then abduct them from their families, force them to pose as his wife, as part of a childless couple to lure surrogates like you. Being a couple made it more convincing. In the UK, parental orders in surrogacy cases can only be granted to couples. Brenda knew that if she didn’t comply, the lives of Nathan and their sons were under threat from this criminal gang. Once she’d completed her role and the baby had successfully been handed over to Brown, the woman would be allowed to return to her family, but only on pain of death should she ever breathe a word about it or where she’d been to anyone. Obviously any delay, such as your miscarriage, would have made the process longer and more distressing for her. All she would have wanted was to go home to her family.’
‘And because of me, she never got to do that.’ I’d never forgive myself for not trying harder to help her.
‘You can’t blame yourself, Charlotte,’ Mum said.
‘Malcolm was controlling. He barely let Brenda out of his sight. But he seemed kind and sensitive too. I’d never have guessed this was behind it all,’ I said.
‘Nor me.’ Steve reached for my hand and linked his fingers through mine.
‘There is something else we need to tell you.’ WPC Reed looked pensive, biting her lip. How could there be anything else left?
‘We did a DNA test on Malcolm – Leslie Brown, to confirm that he is indeed the biological father of all the babies.’
‘Sick bastard.’ Steve spat the words out.
‘That is, all except for Rose.’ The policewoman fixed her eyes on mine, then Steve’s.
‘Really?’ I frowned.
Steve dug his fingers into his hairline.
‘We’d like you to do a DNA test, Steve.’
We stared at each other, and then I smiled. Mum patted my knee.
‘Yeah, of course.’ He laughed but looked like he might cry.
‘Unless…’ WPC Reed cocked her head and squinted at me.
‘There couldn’t ever be anyone else.’ I squeezed Steve’s hand. ‘We had sex several days after the insemination, but I thought we’d left enough time.’ He nodded at me, struggling to hold back his tears.
‘You’re saying Rose and Robert could be mine, right?’ Steve asked.
‘Almost certainly, yes,’ the policewoman said. The inspector folded his arms and tipped back in his chair with a satisfied grin.
‘That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.’ I crumpled onto Steve’s shoulder. He already treated Rose as his own daughter, but for them to be a match would be incredible. ‘We’ll need you both to give evidence in court when we’ve pieced everything together,’ the policewoman said. She took Steve’s DNA sample.
‘Of course. We need to stop them doing this again.’ Steve took Rose from me. ‘Can we do anything to help you find our son?’
‘Leave it to us,’ the inspector said.
We all stood up and shook hands.
I glanced at Mum. All I could hear in my head was her saying I’d sold my own children, and it turned out to be true. I wished I’d listened to her. If we didn’t get Robert back, I didn’t know if I could live with that mistake for the rest of my life.
Chapter Sixty-Five
After lunch, Mum took Alice to the park while Rose slept. I tried to sleep too but I couldn’t with Robert on my mind all the time. I held the stripy blue and white cotton hat he’d worn to come out of hospital. I’d heard from a few of the other surrogates used by Malcolm. Some were looking to get their babies back too. The rest of the babies found in the house had been put up for adoption.
We spent the next few days in limbo. Mum looked after us, cooking meals and helping out with Alice, while we spent time getting to know Rose. I continued to keep the Twitter campaign going. More and more people were realising how much the law needed to be tightened up. I called Dad, then Sarah and Paul in Sheffield to update them on everything that had happened. They promised to come down and visit us soon. I made an effort to play with Alice while Rose slept, but I was so distracted, wondering if our son was still in the UK, if he was safe. Was it even possible to have him returned to us when these people had paid so much money for him? Who were they? What kind of people bought babies? I hoped they’d looked after him well. Steve went to work and came home as usual, but he seemed lost in his own thoughts too.
The day Inspector Johnson came back, Steve had the morning off work and Mum took Alice to the library. As soon as we shook hands, I sensed he had good news.
‘I can confirm that you are indeed the biological father of the twins, Steve,’ he said, unable to contain his smile.
‘Wow… that’s incredible news.’ Steve cupped his hand over his mouth.
‘I can’t believe they’re completely ours.’ I linked my arm through his.
‘I also need to tell you that we’ve found your son.’
‘Really? Is he OK?’ I cried. ‘Where is he?’ I felt for Steve’s hand and held it tight.
‘Dublin. Sold to an Irish woman with an American husband. We have evidence to suggest they were planning to move to the US quite soon.’
‘God, imagine that. We may never have tracked them down. Have they looked after him?’ I asked.
‘He’s been very well cared for. He’s being brought back to the UK under the Haig Convention, so he’ll go into emergency foster care for now, but I’m sure your case is strong enough to have him returned to you, especially now that you have Rose and you’ve both been proven to be the biological parents.’
‘Do you know how much they paid?’ Steve squinted. I didn’t want to know.
‘A hundred thousand euros.’
‘Bloody hell.’
‘What happens about the money? Does it mean they can fight us to keep him?’ I asked.
‘The money they paid is irrelevant in law. The child’s welfare is paramount. I doubt they’d have a chance. Your child has effectively been abducted from you. They may even face charges.’
‘I actually feel sorry for them. They must have been pretty desperate to pay that much for a child,’ Steve said.
‘They maintain they had the best of intentions – to create the family they always wanted. I understand IVF failed several times for them and the man was too old to adopt.’
‘That’s so sad. Can you tell us their names?’ Why couldn’t we have found a genuine couple like them?
‘Tom and Mary Sutton. Look, I know this probably isn’t the right time for you to make any kind of decision, but they’re desperate to get in touch with you, when all this is over. They’re heartbroken at losing Robert. I’m sure you understand.’
Steve and I held hands and looked at each other. I nodded, unable to speak for a second.
‘We’re grateful he went to good people. I don’t think we’d have a problem letting them know how he is,’ Steve said. He squeezed my hand and I squeezed back.
‘When can Robert come home?’ My voice sounded strange but level, my heart jumping. ‘Their paperwork from Malcolm must be fake too?’
‘I’m sure that’s the case. You’ll still need to see a lawyer. It’ll probably be a lengthier process than before. But, in all honesty, I can’t imagine any judge is going to deny Robert the chance to come home to his birth parents and twin sister. It’s the ideal outcome all round. I’m sure the court will see it that way.’
‘I hope so too,’ I said.
Epilogue
Mum had organised for us to visit a farm and play centre with outdoor rides, climbing frames and a picnic area in the woods. From the outside, we probably looked like any normal fun-loving family. But this was our first proper day out, all together.
It hadn’t taken too long for Robert to come home, thanks to Inspector Johnson and Lorna Drake backing us up again. His return to the UK had made f
ront-page news. Every time I was interviewed, I took the opportunity to talk about the inadequate surrogacy law in the UK. Now it was being debated everywhere, even on Question Time and in Parliament. I was proud of myself for speaking up. It was good that people were listening to someone like me.
Steve lay on the grass, his head in my lap, the twins parked next to us in their double buggy, having a sleep while Mum took Alice to see the rabbits.
‘Dad emailed to say he’s coming over to visit us next month.’
‘Have you told your mum?’
‘Not yet.’
He pulled a funny face.
‘I had one from Tom and Mary too. They’ve been given the go-ahead to adopt a baby girl from China. Isn’t that great news?’
‘I’m pleased for them. We should all meet up before they move to America.’
‘That would be lovely.’
‘Can you believe these two are almost five months old?’
I kissed their tiny toes. Whenever I looked at them, time seemed to slow down. I marvelled at every smile and every special moment. I touched the three little rings hanging from my necklace.
I’d never forget how lucky I was.
A Letter From Ruby
Hello!
Thank you so much for taking the time to read my debut novel, Someone Else’s Baby. It’s both exciting and terrifying sending my first book out into the world.
Thank you for joining me on Charlotte’s journey. If you enjoyed Someone Else’s Baby, I would really appreciate it if you could leave a review.
The idea for Someone Else’s Baby came from watching a TV programme, where a young surrogate gave birth to a baby for a couple who’d been struggling to conceive for years. I was transfixed by this kind young woman. But when she handed the baby over, she looked forlorn, slightly ‘rabbit caught in head-lights’. The pregnancy and birth hadn’t been as easy as she’d expected.
In my writer head I began to wonder about all the things that could go wrong. What if the surrogate didn’t really know the couple she was handing her baby to? What if the intended parents lied about who they really were? When I researched my ideas, I was shocked to find that many of the terrible things I imagined are going on somewhere in the world.
The whole subject of surrogacy has fascinated me for years, because I know I would find it hard to give a baby away. Surrogates are very special people – to be able to give such a gift is incredible.
I find I’m drawn to write about subjects and circumstances that scare me, and as a writer, putting myself in a character’s predicament isn’t always easy!
I love hearing from readers, so do get in touch via Twitter, Facebook, Goodreads or through my website.
Thank you very much for your support.
Ruby x
www.herabooks.com/authors/ruby-speechley/
@rubyspeechley
Rubyspeechley.com
Acknowledgments
Firstly, thank you for everything, Mum and Dad. You passed on your love of words to me even before I could read and nurtured my early devotion to writing.
I’m indebted to my tutors, mentors, writer friends and many other friends and family not in the writing world. Thank you all for your kindness and never giving up on me.
Special mention to my dear friend, Susan Elliot Wright, who is always the first writer I tell about a new idea. If she is excited about it, as she was with this one, then I know I’m onto something. Huge thanks to Sara Sarre, editor extraordinaire at the Blue Pencil Agency, for always going above and beyond, especially with this novel. To Richard Skinner, the kindest, most nurturing teacher there is, who believed in me when I needed it most. To Jill Dawson whose encouragement since the early years has bolstered and sustained me. To my kind and generous MA tutor, Lesley Glaister, for her patience in guiding me through writing my first novel. To Wendy Bough, founder of the Caledonia Novel Award, who has shown me extraordinary kindness. To my WoMentoring mentor, Vanessa Fox O’Loughlin, to Keith Jebb, Angela Clarke, Julia McCutchen and Edwina Biucchi, for showing me the way forward. Thanks too to and the organisers of the Festival of Writing in York and The Arvon Foundation.
Thanks to my early readers, Fiona Mitchell, Alison Marlow, Rose McGinty, Lucille Grant, Rebecca Williams, Isabel Costello and Susan Elliot Wright. Each one of you has helped to make this a better book.
Thanks to my many writer friends on and offline, for always championing me, reading my work and giving me advice when I’ve needed it, in particular to: Jude Brown, Caroline Priestly, Louise Jensen, Vicky Newham, Louise Mangos, Jane Roberts, Amanda Saint, Debi Alper, Britta Jensen, Tina Death, Debra Brown, Amanda Reynolds and all my Faber Academy novel writing group: Emma Goode, Laura Church, Isaac Jay, Cleo Harrington, Emma Cook, Mia Roberts, Phil Cavanagh, Kate Poll, Nicola Bye, Claire Cowburn Baker and Louise Macqueron.
Huge thanks to my agent, Jo Bell at Bell Lomax Moreton, for her constant belief, enthusiasm and kindness. Thanks to my incredible editor, Keshini Naidoo, who immediately understood the real story I was trying to tell. And to her fellow publisher at Hera Books, Lindsey Mooney – I’m so proud to be published by this dynamic female-led independent publisher.
Connie Atkinson, International Surrogacy Lawyer, and Hayley Lloyd, Senior Practitioner Social Worker, both helped immensely with my endless questions. I researched and read many articles, surrogacy websites and personal accounts, too numerous to list. Any mistakes are entirely my own. I want to thank the surrogacy community for everything they do to make surrogacy a safe, positive and fulfilling experience.
Finally, special thanks to my eldest son, Charlie, for his unwavering encouragement and love. To my husband Richard, for his support in every possible way, and most of all, for never doubting me. And to my youngest son and daughter, Edward and Sophie, for reminding me every day that I’m loved.
First published in Great Britain in 2019 by Hera
Hera Books
28b Cricketfield Road
London, E5 8NS
United Kingdom
Copyright © Ruby Speechley, 2019
The moral right of Ruby Speechley to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781912973132
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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