Not My Daughter (ARC)

by Kate Hewitt

  But amazingly, just a few days later, I feel that towering black cloud start to lift, just a little. Perhaps it’s the placebo effect, or perhaps I’m just lucky. But for the first time in a month, I feel as if I can glimpse the horizon.

  When Matt visits, I tell him my progress and see the hope light his eyes. ‘Milly, that’s fantastic news. I’m so glad.’ He squeezes my hand. ‘Do you… do you think you’ll be able to come home soon?’

  It’s been almost two weeks, far too long already to have been away from my child. The guilt is still there, that I’ve left her so long. Perhaps it always will be. ‘I’m going to try,’ I tell him, and three days later, I do.

  Matt takes the day off work to pick me up and drive me back home, to Alice. I am nearly shaking with both terror and longing at seeing her again. What if I can’t do it? What if I really am a failure, the truth that no magic pill can hide? What if she loves Anna more than me?

  I don’t share those fears with anyone; I try to keep them from myself. I remind myself that Alice is my daughter, that I carried her in my body, that she will know me as her mother. But I am so afraid she won’t.

  I am tensed and ready to see her, but when we go inside the house, it feels empty. It also smells strange – Anna must use a different cleaning spray or laundry detergent or something. It looks different, as well, and I notice a dozen little things that have changed, each one a pinprick to my soul.

  Anna has moved a lamp from one side of the sofa to the other, and there are notices pinned on the fridge with a magnet – a date for Alice’s two-month immunisations, an invitation to a mums and babies coffee morning. I take it all in with one painful glance; I feel as if I’ve walked into someone else’s life, and then I realise that, in a way, I have.

  ‘Perhaps they’re upstairs…’ Matt murmurs, and he jogs up the stairs in search of both Anna and Alice.

  I walk slowly into the sitting room, taking in more details. A new throw pillow, in a shade of purple I never would have chosen. A litter box in the kitchen – of course, she must have brought Winnie here, even though I’m slightly allergic to cats. Is that part of the smell? Everything feels so foreign, and I wasn’t expecting it.

  Winnie peers out from underneath the table and glares at me balefully before stalking off.

  ‘They’re not upstairs,’ Matt says, frowning, as he comes into the kitchen. We see the note on the kitchen table at the same time.

  Dear Matt, I thought I’d take Alice out for a bit, so you and Milly can settle in without any pressure. See you soon. Anna.

  That note rankles me. Perhaps it’s the way it’s addressed only to Matt. Maybe it’s the idea that it will somehow create pressure to have Alice here with me, even though I know Anna is right and it will. Still, it doesn’t seem like her decision to make, and yet clearly she thought it was. And once again I am forced to face the uncomfortable, unpalatable truth, that Anna has made a lot of decisions over the last two and a half weeks. She’s had to, and we’ve had to let her.

  ‘I could ring her, ask her to come back,’ Matt says after a moment. ‘Unless you want to wait? Have a cuppa?’

  ‘Fine. Let’s do that.’ She’ll be home soon, I tell myself. She’ll be home soon, and then I’ll have Alice.

  Half an hour goes by, and there is no word from Anna. Matt calls her, but she’s not answering her phone. Then, as we are sipping lukewarm tea in silence in the sitting room, Jack stops by.

  ‘Milly.’ He gives me a big hug before kissing my cheek. ‘I’m so glad you’re back home. It’s great to see you. You look well. Really well.’ He nods, and keeps nodding, and I realise I can expect a thousand awkward conversations like this.

  ‘Thank you, Jack.’

  ‘Where’s Alice? And Anna?’ He looks around as if expecting them to pop out from behind the sofa and yell ‘surprise’.

  ‘Anna took Alice for a walk, I think,’ Matt says, ‘but it’s been nearly an hour now. I think they should be home soon, especially considering how cold it is.’

  ‘She took Alice?’ Something in Jack’s tone makes us both look at him, expectant and wary.

  ‘Just for a walk…’ Matt begins, and then trails off at Jack’s stricken expression. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing, really. At least I don’t think…’ He trails off and I put my mug down, my hands curling into fists as I brace myself for whatever Jack is going to say, because clearly it is not nothing.

  ‘Jack.’ Matt’s voice is strident. ‘If there’s something you know, something that’s going on, tell us, please.’

  ‘I don’t know anything,’ Jack protests. ‘It’s just…’ He lets out a ragged sigh. ‘Anna was talking to me a few days ago, and it was all a bit… much.’

  ‘What do you mean, much?’

  ‘I don’t know how seriously she meant it—’

  ‘Meant what?’ Matt explodes. ‘Can you please tell me what the hell is going on here?’

  ‘Anna was talking to me about…’ Still he hesitates. ‘About applying for custody of Alice.’

  His words feel as if they are hurled into the room like a grenade. We are now just waiting for the explosion. Matt is silent, stunned, clearly having absolutely no inkling of this, and yet I realise I am not surprised. I’ve been fearing it, bracing myself for it, since I first found out I was pregnant. Perhaps even since Anna first offered to donate. And while I’ve tried to hide the truth from myself, I accept now how complicated our arrangement was, how conflicted our feelings. How all of it eventually had to lead to this.

  ‘Why would she do that?’ Matt asks, sounding so bewildered I almost want to laugh.

  ‘Because she feels Alice is her baby,’ I say. It is so obvious to me. ‘Because Alice is her baby biologically, and she’s been taking care of her basically since she was born.’ I wrap my arms around myself. Because I failed as a mother. I don’t want to go down that dark road again, but I can’t keep myself from it. Is this what I really deserve?

  ‘She’s been helping us out,’ Matt protests. He looks winded, as if he’s been struck and is reeling from the blow. ‘That’s all. Just helping us out.’

  ‘But it wasn’t just that to Anna,’ I say quietly.

  Jack looks at both of us. ‘Honestly, I don’t think she was thinking straight. I don’t think she really meant it—’

  ‘What exactly did she tell you?’ Matt interjects.

  ‘She spoke to a lawyer, to see if she had a case. She wanted us…’ He stops.

  ‘A lawyer.’ Now that surprises me. Anna, passive, drifting Anna, actually had a plan. She’d thought it out; this clearly isn’t merely some passing fancy, a wistful what if. Maybe this is what I deserve, and maybe it is what I am going to get.

  ‘I don’t believe this,’ Matt says in a voice that tells me he does. He paces the room, angry and caged, raking both hands through his hair. ‘Why didn’t you tell me, Jack?’

  ‘I thought it was a passing thing…’

  Matt shook his head. ‘How could she do this to us?’

  ‘She hasn’t actually done anything,’ Jack points out, looking as if he regrets telling us everything he has. ‘She just had an initial conversation, that’s all, just to see. Really, Matt…’

  ‘To see what? How she can steal our baby?’ Matt rages. ‘And now she’s out somewhere with our daughter, and we don’t even know where or when she’s coming back. Should I call the police?’

  ‘Matt, don’t,’ I say quietly. That’s the last thing we need right now.

  ‘Milly, did you hear what Jack said?’ For once Matt is too upset to treat me with his post-baby kid gloves. It actually feels good, not to be tiptoed around. For the last three weeks I’ve been the grenade. At least now it’s something else.

  ‘Yes, I heard what he said.’ I take a deep breath. ‘But Anna hasn’t kidnapped Alice, and she probably didn’t even want us to know about the consultation.’

  ‘Of course she didn’t—’

  ‘Like Jack said, it might have been a whim
or a passing thought.’ Except I don’t really believe that. Panic is clawing inside me, fighting with a leaden certainty that this is what I deserve. ‘Let’s wait till she comes back, and ask her ourselves.’

  ‘Damn right I will,’ Matt growls.

  As it turns out, we don’t have long to wait. Just ten minutes later, the front door opens and Anna comes in, Alice bundled in a sling on her chest,. She stops, taking us all in; Matt has been pacing the room, but he stops to glare at her, his arms folded.

  Carefully, she closes the door behind her, one hand cradling Alice’s head, an unthinkingly possessive gesture. ‘Milly. Welcome home.’ And somehow that hurts, because this is not her home. It is mine. Still, I take a breath. Smile.

  ‘Thank you, Anna.’

  She glances at Matt. ‘Is everything okay?’

  ‘No, it most certainly is not,’ Matt bursts out, unable to keep himself from it for another second. ‘What the hell were you thinking, Anna, consulting a lawyer?’

  Anna stiffens, then shoots Jack a hurt, accusing look. ‘Jack told you, I suppose?’

  ‘Yes, he certainly did.’

  ‘Take off the sling.’ The words come out of me suddenly, as I stare Anna down. ‘Take off that sling. I want to hold my baby.’

  Anna’s hands tense on Alice and she hesitates. In that endless pause, I see all I need to know. She doesn’t want to give Alice to me – not now, and not ever. And part of me doesn’t even blame her.

  ‘I’m the only mother she’s ever known.’ Her sea-green gaze burrows into mine. ‘For three weeks, I’ve given her everything. Everything. She came from my body as much as yours. Surely you can see that, Milly. That, in this situation, I have some rights.’

  ‘How dare—’ Matt begins, but I hold up my hand to stop him. This is between Anna and me.

  ‘We owe you a great debt, Anna,’ I say steadily, ‘but I was ill. I wasn’t able to take care of Alice the way I wanted to.’

  ‘And I was. And both of you just expected me to – the same way you expected me to donate, to be there when you miscarried, to help you when you were on bedrest, to see you through labour.’ Her voice throbs with intensity. ‘And you never even considered what the cost was to me, behind a half-hearted “if it’s too much, Anna”. You never once thought about what I might feel or want. I’ve done everything I’ve ever been asked for you, and more. Much more. And you’ve always expected it, because once you were so kind to me.’ I blink, sensing something far deeper here than I ever realised, the dark foundation of our friendship that I was afraid to examine too closely. ‘But I don’t need to pay that debt back any longer, Milly. I don’t need to remember how you once rescued me, because I’ve rescued you over and over again. I want to stop keeping count, tit for tat, because that’s how you’ve always operated.’

  ‘I didn’t…’ I begin feebly, but Anna cuts across me.

  ‘You can’t just dismiss me. I won’t let you. Alice is part of me. She knows me. She loves me. And whether you were ill or not, that counts for something. It counts for a lot.’ No one says anything and she turns to Jack. ‘Jack, tell me you understand what I’m saying.’

  Jack looks stricken as he shakes his head. ‘I can’t support you in this, Anna. I’m sorry. I know you’ve been through a lot with – with what happened before—’

  ‘What happened before?’ Matt demands and Jack shakes his head.

  ‘I meant a long time ago, when Anna was eighteen, nothing to do with now…’

  Eighteen? ‘What happened back then?’ I ask Anna.

  She purses her lips and lifts her chin, her eyes flashing. ‘I had a termination. But that doesn’t really have anything to do with this.’

  Doesn’t it? I am shocked by this news, stunned by how it changes nothing – and yet everything.

  ‘So you want to make up for the baby you killed by taking ours?’ Matt says with a sneer, the words so cruel they seem to steal the air from the room.

  ‘Matt,’ I protest. ‘That’s not fair.’ But what if it’s the truth? I feel ashamed for thinking it, and yet…

  ‘Milly, she’s trying to take Alice from us!’

  And still I can’t blame her, as much as I want to. ‘There’s no need to be so cruel,’ I say quietly.

  Anna turns to Matt, her gaze fierce and glittering. ‘And what about you, Matt? What about all the things you said, about how maybe you and Milly shouldn’t have gone down this route? Playing God?’

  ‘I didn’t mean for you—’

  ‘What about what you said, about how maybe Milly shouldn’t have been a mother?’

  I gape with shock, nearly stagger. ‘What…’ I can barely get the word out. I turn to Matt, who is looking furious as well as guilty. Guilty. Because he did think that. He said it to Anna.

  ‘Give me my daughter,’ Matt says, his voice low and deadly. ‘Give her to me right now, and then get out of this house.’

  I can hardly believe it’s come to this, that the four of us, four friends in this great adventure together, are now facing off as if we’re the worst of enemies. Anna stares at Matt, and then at me, and finally at Jack.

  The seconds tick by and then at last she starts to unwind the sling, her fingers trembling as she fumbles with the ties. Her face is a mask, but behind it I sense a wild grief. This isn’t fair to Anna. I know that. But neither has she been fair to us.

  Gently, so gently, she lifts Alice out. My daughter lets out a breathy sigh; she has slept through everything. Anna holds Alice for a moment, touching one finger to her cheek.

  ‘Anna,’ Matt says warningly, and I want to tell him to be quiet, that we need to give her this much. At the same time, I want to snatch Alice from Anna’s arms.

  Then Anna finally hands Alice over, not to Matt, but to me. She looks me straight in the eye as she does it, and I see the storm of grief in her face although her expression is composed.

  I take Alice, bringing her to my body as I gaze down at her sleeping face. My daughter. The words don’t completely make sense to me yet, even though I feel them desperately, for the very first time.

  ‘Now,’ Matt says in a cold, controlled voice, ‘you can go upstairs and pack your things, and then you can get out.’

  Anna doesn’t reply as she walks past us with her head held high.

  No one speaks as she moves around upstairs, packing her things. Matt is still fuming, and Jack looks lost. I gaze down at Alice, touching her cheek, her finger, her downy blonde curls. She’s changed so much from the scrawny newborn I left three weeks ago. I’m terrified to hold her, but I don’t feel that awful sense of displacement and revulsion that I felt before. She belongs in my arms now, and despite Anna, despite everything, that is the sweetest relief.

  The stairs creak and Anna comes back downstairs with a suitcase in one hand, another bag over her shoulder. ‘I’ll put these in my car and then I’ll get Winnie,’ she says, and nobody answers.

  She comes back in for the cat and the litter box, and still we stay silent. Part of me wants to scream, to cry, to say sorry, anything. I can’t believe that as I gain my daughter, I am losing my best friend. But I don’t say anything. No one does.

  Anna pauses at the door, one hand on the knob. She looks at all of us, her chin tilted, her eyes glittering with either tears or anger. I wait – for what? For something about this to make sense? For us all to be able to take a step back, mend these broken bridges and to move on, together?

  But the moment passes, and I feel it is gone forever. With a little nod of farewell, Anna opens the door and goes outside. As it clicks shut behind her, Matt releases a long, low breath and I look down at my daughter. Alice stirs, perhaps startled by the sound of the door closing, and then my daughter opens her eyes, blinking sleepily, before smiling at me.

  Part Two

  Twenty-Two

  Anna

  Four years later

  * * *

  I see a flash of golden hair across the park, and I stop running. I double over to catch my breath, my hands on my
knees, my gaze scanning the path. Could it be…?

  But then the little girl comes into view, and I see that she’s too old. Seven or eight, at least. It’s not Alice.

  Four years on and I can’t stop looking for her. I can’t stop grieving, even though I’ve done my best to move on with my life. And I have. In so many ways, I have.

  After I walked out of Matt and Milly’s house, I paced the streets for hours, oblivious to the freezing cold, my mind buzzing, buzzing, looking for solutions. I rang the lawyer again, who basically told me to stop thinking about a custody case, now that Milly was home. I heard pity in her voice, and it felt like a slap. Was it really that impossible? Why did it all feel so unfair?

  Then, that evening, Jack came by. He looked both guilty and accusing, as if he couldn’t decide who to blame.

  ‘I just wanted to see if you were okay,’ he said, standing in my hallway; I hadn’t invited him in any farther. ‘After everything that happened…’

  ‘You think I’d be fine by now?’ I retorted with a harsh laugh. ‘A bit rough there this afternoon, but it’s all okay now? How could you, Jack? How could you betray me in that way? What I said to you… and what about what you said to me? “This is us”,’ I mimicked savagely. ‘What about that?’

  He hung his head like a little boy. ‘I’m sorry, Anna…’

  ‘You had no right.’ My voice vibrated with pain. ‘No right at all, to barge in and tell Milly and Matt what I was considering – what we were considering, but you didn’t mention that, either, did you?’

  ‘Anna, I was never considering it.’

  His words made me reel back. ‘Yes, you were. A little—’

  ‘No.’ Firm now, with a shake of his head. ‘No, I wasn’t. It was… it was fun to pretend, for a bit, that we were… a family, of sorts. I admit that.’

  ‘Fun to pretend?’ I couldn’t believe he was eviscerating our dream so completely, even as I was unsurprised. All along, Jack had been playacting at a real relationship. It was why we had never got more serious, why I’d had to push him into making some sort of declaration in the first place. I’d always known, deep down, that we weren’t going to last, but it still hurt to hear him say it so plainly.