* * *
Nadia sat on the edge of her dad’s and Rosemary’s bed with Louise nestled in the crook of her arm as she tried to get her to nap. She could hear Zoe crying in the living room, and Rosemary trying to soothe her. When Rosemary had called her and told her what had happened, that Lachlan had hit Zoe, she had raced over to her parents’ place. She had known something like this would happen: she had seen Lachlan’s drinking – they all had – and felt the tension between him and Zoe, how desperately her sister was trying to cling on to her marriage. Why the hell had Zoe let things get this bad? Nadia didn’t believe that this – the violence – had come out of nowhere. What else had Louise been exposed to? What had her life been like, living with parents who were falling to pieces?
The dummy moved rhythmically as Louise’s breathing got slower and slower and her eyelids closed. When Nadia had tried to put her in her cot before, Louise had screamed to be held; obviously Zoe rocked her to sleep. It made sense now: Louise felt unsafe. Well, she was safe now. All she’d known was a life of anxiety and fear, of being pulled this way and that. That was not the life for a child. She needed stability.
Louise’s mouth went slack and the dummy dropped out. This should be how she always felt – peaceful. Nadia knew that Zoe loved Louise, of course she did. But so did she, Nadia. When it came down to it, she had the connection with Louise, the biological investment in her, that Zoe could never have. Lachlan was her true father, but he had given up any rights he once had today when he made the decision to expose his daughter to domestic violence. Zoe, technically, was Louise’s stepmother. This was a child’s life they were talking about, not a toy. Louise was an individual who would grow into a young woman, a mother herself some day. Nadia sat up straighter and arched her back, then stood up and put Louise gently down into the travel cot. This time, she didn’t wake.
Nadia walked back through to the kitchen, her hands trembling. Zoe was still sobbing on the couch, barely able to talk for sniffling. Nadia wanted to go over to her and shake her, tell her to grow up, to pull herself together, for Louise’s sake. Instead she took her mobile phone out of her pocket. The kids were at Eddie’s mum’s; this was no place for them, not today. She walked through the living room, past Rosemary and Zoe, and opened the patio doors. She walked over the deck, onto the wet lawn and into a corner of the garden, under the thick, bare branches of the flame tree. As she turned to face the back fence, she remembered the last time she and Zoe had sat here, after her dad’s sixtieth, when the tree was covered with crimson-tipped flowers. So much had happened since then. She dialled.
‘Eddie, it’s me.’
‘Hi. What’s happening? Are you still at your dad’s?’
‘Yeah. Zoe’s in a state. I only just managed to get Louise settled. I don’t even think she’s called the police. Eddie, I can’t believe she’d let him get away with this …’ Nadia’s voice broke.
‘Oh, Nadia, it’ll be OK. You don’t need to be so upset …’
Nadia heard the concern in his voice. She took a deep breath. ‘Eddie, I don’t know how to say this.’
‘What?’
‘I can’t do it.’
‘What do you mean?’ he said cautiously.
‘Louise. I can’t let her grow up with a father who’s violent, an alcoholic. I just can’t, Eddie, not when we can give her so much more.’
He was silent.
‘Did you hear me? I can’t do it any more. I can’t sit and watch Louise’s life being ruined.’
‘Shit. Nadia …’
‘When will you be home? What will I do?’
‘What will you do? Nothing! Don’t do anything! God, Nadia. It’s too late. I warned you about this, I knew it’d be too hard on you.’ His voice was full of concern.
Nadia stared up into the sky. A sense of calm came over her, a lulling in her body that she hadn’t felt since she’d become pregnant with Louise. This was the right thing to do, the only thing to do.
‘Nadia. Everyone’s had a scare – just let the dust settle, OK? We don’t know the whole story yet. I’ll leave work now, I’ll come straight over. But remember, Louise is their child, not ours. It’s been settled in the courts.’
Nadia sighed. ‘Well, come as quickly as you can. You’ll understand when you see Zoe. She’s in no fit state to look after Louise right now.’
‘Come on, love, give her a break. She’s just walked out on Lachlan after he hit her, she’s allowed to be upset.’
‘I know. But, Eddie, I’m just thinking of Louise. Even if I’m just her aunt, I can’t sit by and watch her life get ruined.’
‘All right, I understand, but everything will be OK. Louise will be fine. Zoe’s a good mum, with or without Lachlan.’
Nadia hung up. That was the one thing – the only thing – that stopped her from acting immediately. If she had given her child to a stranger and this had happened, she wouldn’t care how hurt the intended mother might be; she would never leave her flesh and blood in such a dangerous situation. No question, she’d call child protection, she’d call her lawyer, and she’d get her child back. But she didn’t know if she could really rip Louise out of Zoe’s arms, because she remembered too well, as vividly as if it was yesterday, what that had felt like. Could she do that to her sister?
* * *
Zoe clasped one hand over her mouth; with the other, she gripped the edge of the open door. Nadia was standing under the flame tree, drops of rain dripping from its branches. She was facing away from the house, scuffing her gold ballet flat back and forth on the ground, talking on her phone.
Zoe hadn’t noticed Nadia go outside; she had thought she was still in the bedroom with Louise. Her mum had gone to put the kettle on; Zoe had intended to go out onto the deck to gulp down some fresh air and cool her face, hot and swollen from crying. As she approached the door, she saw Nadia. Zoe paused at the door, and then the high, tense pitch of Nadia’s voice carried over the garden towards her.
I can’t sit by and watch her life get ruined.
Zoe had frozen, her heart pounding. But Nadia hadn’t said much else, just ended the call, and now she was looking at the ground, deep in thought.
Zoe gripped the door tighter. Nadia must have been talking about her, Zoe, surely? She was worried about Lachlan, about what he’d done. She couldn’t be talking about anything – anyone – else. Or could she? Did she mean Louise?
She saw Nadia wipe her eyes and turn. Zoe quickly let go of the doorframe, and stepped back before Nadia could see her.
* * *
Nadia was waiting at the front door when Eddie arrived. She opened the door and fell into his arms, clutching him tight. He held her, then gently moved away from her, still holding her shoulders as he looked into her face. ‘Are you OK?’
Nadia nodded. ‘I just can’t believe it.’
‘Any news?’
She shook her head. ‘Nothing since I spoke to you. He hasn’t been in touch, but she’s too scared to go back to the house.’
‘Has anyone called him?’
‘No. She said he was drunk. I don’t think it’s a good idea.’
‘I’ll go and look for him.’
‘No, don’t.’ Nadia knew what Eddie would do if he found Lachlan.
‘If he dares to show up here, I’ll —’
‘Eddie. Not now.’ Nadia took his hand and pulled him inside, grateful to have him with her. She was ashamed to think she had ever complained about her marriage or doubted Eddie. Whatever he was, he wasn’t violent, and he wasn’t a drunk. He treated her well, he loved her and he was a wonderful father.
Zoe began crying again when she saw Eddie. He hugged her, then greeted Rosemary. Martin, who had just got home too, stood up and shook Eddie’s hand. His face was pale, his jaw set. Nadia knew Louise would be safe here. There was no way her dad would let Lachlan get anywhere near her.
They made yet more tea, then sat around the dining table. Zoe’s face was blotchy, and her hands trembled. Louise was awake again, now
in a high chair, eating a biscuit and banging a spoon on the tray. Nadia could feel the stress pulsing through Louise’s body as easily as if they were one being. She watched Zoe, so caught up in herself that she didn’t even see what this was doing to Louise. Nadia took the baby out of the high chair and held her on her lap.
‘Why don’t you come and stay with us, Zoe? It’ll be nicer for Louise, to have her cousins around.’ She hated even saying the word cousins; Charlotte and Violet were her sisters, Harry her brother.
Zoe looked up, frowning. ‘No, there’s more room here. If that’s OK, Mum?’
Rosemary nodded. ‘Yes, of course it is. As long as you want.’
Nadia frowned at Rosemary. ‘But you and Dad will be working during the day. It’ll be safer for Louise to be at our place. I’m at home all day, then there are two of us. Just in case he comes looking for Zoe.’
‘He won’t,’ Zoe said. ‘Anyway, it’s not like he’s done it before, it was just —’
‘Don’t you dare start making excuses for him!’ Nadia snapped.
‘I’m not, I’m not …’ Zoe shrank back in her chair. ‘It’s just, I don’t think he’s going to come looking for me.’
‘You don’t know what he’ll do,’ Eddie said. ‘Are you sure he hasn’t done this before?’
‘Of course not!’
‘Shh, it’s all right, Zoe,’ Rosemary said, glaring at Eddie.
Zoe widened her eyes as she looked at her mum. ‘I just want to stay here.’
‘Of course,’ Martin said. ‘Have you got everything you need? Do you want me and Eddie to go to the house and pick up some things?’
Zoe shook her head. ‘I’ve got some stuff, enough for a day or two anyway.’
‘I’ve got heaps of baby things at our place – when I was unpacking I found boxes full of them,’ said Nadia. ‘I’ve got old sleeping bags for Louise, some toys and clothes. We could go home and get some, bring them back.’
‘That’s a good idea,’ Martin said.
‘We’ve got to get home soon for the kids anyway,’ Nadia went on. ‘Why don’t we take Louise, give you some time to calm down? Then we’ll get her fed and bathed with our kids – they’ll love that – before bringing her back. Or she could stay the night with us.’ She glanced at Eddie, saw the warning in his eyes.
‘No,’ Zoe said quickly. ‘I want to be with Louise.’
‘Of course you do, darling,’ Rosemary said. ‘Why don’t you go with them, get what you need from Nadia’s place, then come back? I’ll make up the spare room, and Dad’ll go to the shops and get something nice for our tea.’
Zoe looked around at everyone, and her eyes stopped on Louise, still sitting on Nadia’s lap. Then she looked down at the table and nodded. ‘OK.’
Nadia saw how detached Zoe was. She had given up all control, and was instead floating through this, swayed by everyone around her. That was the problem: she waited for others to make decisions for her instead of standing up for herself and Louise. Zoe should have made Lachlan get a job instead of allowing him to sit around all day drinking, and she should have left him at the first sign of trouble. Instead, she’d let it get to this point, and now she was drifting around, unanchored, while everyone else had to take charge and pick up the pieces. Louise needed someone to be a parent to her, to make sacrifices to keep her safe. Zoe simply wasn’t up to it.
But even as she thought it, Nadia felt sick. Could she do it? Could she take Louise?
She stood up and hoisted Louise onto her hip. ‘Come on, we’ll feed her at our place, then get you back in time to put her to bed.’
* * *
Zoe watched helplessly as Harry, Charlotte and Violet bombarded Louise with squeals and cuddles, and Nadia clattered around the kitchen. This was the last place she wanted to be. She didn’t really want to be at her mum’s either; she wished she was at home, putting Louise to sleep in her own bed. But she stopped herself from thinking about that – she wouldn’t let herself cry again, not in front of Nadia.
‘Zoe, while I do this, do you want to have a look through the box of old baby clothes?’ Nadia said. ‘There’s not a huge amount there, I threw out anything that was a bit grubby, but I’m sure there are some things that’ll be useful. There should be a few bottles and toys too.’
‘Sure.’ Zoe didn’t want anything from Nadia, but the quicker she grabbed some things to keep her sister happy, the sooner they could leave.
Nadia wiped her hands on a tea towel, then led Zoe through to their study at the back of the house. There was a desk underneath a window overlooking the garden, with purple flowers of native hibiscus tapping against the pane. The ceiling was decorated with geometrical plasterwork, with a glass art-deco light fitting hanging from the centre. While stacks of unopened packing boxes still blocked the large bookshelf that stretched along one wall, Nadia had managed to find time to hang her university certificates from the picture rails – her undergraduate psychology degree and her master’s certificate.
‘We haven’t got round to unpacking these yet …’ Nadia dragged the boxes around until she found one labelled Baby things. ‘Have a look through this. I’ll just get the kids’ dinner on. Take your time, we’ll feed Louise.’
‘Thanks,’ Zoe said, and smiled, though she had no intention of taking her time. Once Nadia had left, Zoe kneeled on the floor and ripped the tape off the box, then folded back the cardboard flaps. She quickly pulled out the clothes, and took a few things that looked like they’d fit Louise. She didn’t need much. Zoe didn’t plan on being away from home for long. Lachlan could move out, then she would change the locks. The tears welled up again. She didn’t want to think about this being the end of her marriage. She still couldn’t quite believe what had happened earlier today, and she didn’t know if she could give up on her relationship with Lachlan because of one act of drunken violence. Closing her eyes for a moment, she wondered what he was doing now: where he was, what he was thinking, why he hadn’t come looking for her.
She had a small pile of clothes, two bottles, a pink beanie hat and a sleeping bag. That was enough. From the kitchen, she heard the clang of metal – a spoon tapping on the side of a pan. She gathered the little collection of things and stood up. She used her foot to push the box back against the bookcase, but it was askew and jammed at an angle between the other boxes. Sighing, she put down the pile of baby items and crouched down. She straightened the box, then pushed it into the tight space.
As she stood up again, something caught her eye. In the bookcase, just above head height, was another, smaller box, resting on top of a row of books. It looked like it was made of cardboard covered in a pale turquoise fabric. A small metallic square frame on the visible end held a white label, and it was this that had registered with Zoe. On the piece of white card was written, in black marker pen, Louise.
Zoe froze, staring at the box. It was probably nothing, just the documents from the surrogacy process. But then she remembered the black binder that Nadia had filed everything in, the folder she had dragged out whenever they met to discuss anything legal or medical, and dread began to spread through her. The box looked expensive, something intended for keeping special things. Mementoes. Memories.
Zoe glanced back towards the hallway. She could hear Nadia and Eddie cajoling the kids into eating, chairs scraping, the TV going. She stepped towards the door and closed it gently. She could still see the hallway through the panels of fluted glass, so she’d have some warning if anyone was coming.
Noting the exact position of the box so she knew where to replace it, she stood on tiptoe and took it down gently, feeling things inside it shift. She sat on the floor, leaning against the door, and looked more closely at the box. It looked new. The fabric was clean, the corners still sharp. It was a little larger than A4 size, with a snug-fitting lid. She glanced over her shoulder again, then curled her fingers round the lip of the lid and took it off.
Realising she was holding her breath, Zoe exhaled slowly, then let her eyes focus o
n the contents. She saw the long strips of the ultrasound images, pieces of printed paper folded in half, some greeting cards, and the edges of photos. On top of the pile was a photo of Louise. One that Zoe had never seen before.
She recognised the park where it had been taken: in the background she could see the boat ramp and the river, even a black swan in the distance. It was near here, near Nadia’s house. Louise was nestled into the black rubber seat of the swing with the strap across her belly, little hands gripping the chains. She was grinning, showing her two top teeth and her two bottom teeth, and her head was tilted back, looking at the sky. She was mid-swing, strands of her fine blonde hair blowing in the wind. Louise was central in the picture, but Lachlan was behind her. He too was smiling, and must have been pushing her. Nadia had taken this picture.
Zoe’s mouth was dry. She riffled through the box. There were dozens of pictures of Louise. A few of them Zoe had given Nadia, but so many more were recent pictures, pictures that Zoe had never seen before.
Frantic now, Zoe tipped the box upside down on the floor. There was a copy of Louise’s original birth certificate, the one with Nadia and Eddie’s names on it. There were newspaper and magazine cuttings, articles about surrogacy; Zoe had seen many of them herself. There were printouts from the internet, sensational stories about surrogacies that had gone wrong. Zoe looked over her shoulder again, then turned back to the paper she was holding. She noticed the date on the printout: three weeks ago.
The paper began to shake in her hands. There was another printout from three weeks ago, several pages stapled together; it was the surrogacy legislation. Zoe had studied this legislation so many times in the past too, but not for months now. She turned the pages quickly. One sentence was highlighted in bright pink: The court may make an order discharging a parentage order if it is satisfied that there is an exceptional reason why the parentage order should be discharged.
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