by Stella Duffy
He didn’t look very scary. Saz hardly felt the need for an alibi nor, irritated as she was with the waste of her afternoon, for further deception. “I’m here about Gerald Freeman. His son. The baby you sold him. And Sukie Planchet. Her baby too. Chris Marquand. Luke Godwin. I want you to tell me about them. All of them. They need to know.”
At first he seemed to understand, started to speak. But if Saz had been hoping for either admission of guilt or even more information with which to convict, she was sadly disappointed. Lees muttered a few words, repeated the names she’d offered him, stumbled in the middle of the sentence and then looked at her, raised his stick to her face. He asked Saz her name. And when she had answered him, he asked her name again. And then again. And again.
FORTY-SIX
Saz was just about to laugh out loud at herself, at the huge effort she’d put into breaking in, all of which was now clearly pointless, when she realized how brilliant it was. She simply ignored the old man. He was clearly upset and irritated by her presence, but that was it. Whatever confusion had gripped him must be fleeting, as he’d seemed perfectly capable, if a little physically unsteady, getting out of the taxi. Saz took the opportunity of his disorientation to go through the room more thoroughly.
She left Lees sitting in his chair and started to look through his files as methodically as possible. At first the whimpering distress from the old man disturbed her – until she thought about Lillian’s distress when she’d told her Patrick was alive, remembered how she felt having to tell Chris that his mother had committed suicide – and then she found she wasn’t so concerned for the old man’s unhappiness. And anyway, after another ten minutes, Lees fell asleep again.
Twenty minutes after that Saz found a file with Jonathan Godwin’s name across the front. Lees’ filing system was so chaotic that Saz didn’t hold out much hope that it would contain any information especially pertinent to Luke, but she opened it anyway. On the top was a note from Leyton saying he’d sent on a copy of a letter for Lees’ files. The letter was from Gerald Freeman addressed to Jonathan Godwin, care of Leyton. In the letter Freeman expressed his happiness at what he called his “now complete” family and added that last year he’d had the pleasure of attending the christening of another child, adopted by an old school friend – someone else he’d recommended to Leyton. He wished Godwin all the best with the joyful endeavour. Fortunately no one was around to see the sneer on Saz’s face as she made the old school connection. She made a mental note to ask Chris where his father had been educated and put the letter aside. Next she uncovered a baby photo of tiny Chris, almost identical to the ones his mother had in her attic, along with a selection of release forms for Sara Fisher. There was also a sealed envelope bearing a man’s name and a St Kitt’s address.
Lees was starting to stir. Saz realized he might well wake up more lucid this time, so she grabbed her bag, stuffing the whole file into it. Then she heard keys in the front door. The sitting room led directly onto the hall and even now she could hear the door opening. The room itself held nowhere to hide and anyway, Saz concluded, breathing deeply to calm her fight or flight heart smashing itself against her ribs, there really wasn’t much hiding to be done with an old man pointing his wooden stick at her and shouting “Martin! Martin!” Saz stood her ground and hoped for the best.
Georgina Leyton walked in, evidently concerned by the fuss her father was making. When she saw Saz, she took a step back. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
The language didn’t exactly go with the perfect couture outfit, but Saz figured she had a point. Before she had a chance to answer, Georgina crossed the room to Lees. The old man was still shouting Saz’s surname.
“It’s all right Sam, I’m here now.” Georgina fussed briefly with his blanket, offered him the oxygen which he refused, and slowly managed to hush him. Her presence seemed to remind him of where he was and he became calm again, apparently more sensible of what was going on.
Georgina turned back to Saz, “Well?”
Saz struggled to construct a coherent sentence and muttered, “Yeah, the back door, I … um …”
Georgina nodded, “Yes, you’re right. Security here is shot to fuck. Can I fix you a drink?”
Saz frowned, “No. Thank you. Look, um … I know that Lees is your father.”
“Well, that makes just the two of us for the moment. I doubt he knows it. Not the state he’s in this evening, anyway. I assume it’s your presence that’s disturbed him so much?”
“I suppose so, but what …?”
Georgina poured herself a whisky. “But what has it got to do with you? Nothing at all. However, Doctor Lees has senile dementia, Ms Martin. It’s not Alzheimers. Not quite as fashionable, unfortunately. Gets far less press attention, hardly one of the glossy charities. But the two look quite similar. Sometimes he makes sense, a lot of the time he doesn’t. It’s quite tedious actually, though more so for him I expect. On the rare occasion that he does make sense, Doctor Lees is a very clever man. However, as you can see, he’s also not an especially well man. Too much hard work coupled with a life of drinking and smoking. It must be very depressing to know so much and be so stupid. My father is a salutary lesson to us all, I think.”
“You think of him as your father?”
“He is.”
“Yes, but Sukie …?”
“The Christian? Not sane enough to consider good parent material, I’m afraid. Adopting has always made perfect sense to me. If one person doesn’t want a child – or in her case, can’t cope with a child – why not give the child to someone who does? Didn’t do any harm, not to my life.”
“Well, no, but …”
“And it’s got to be more pleasant than growing up in care, don’t you think? It’s not as if I was brought up by bad people. I think I’ve been extremely fortunate.”
Saz stood in the middle of the room, looking from Lees to Georgina. “So I don’t understand, if you were OK to know the truth, why weren’t you honest with the other people once your father – Richard Leyton – had told you what really happened?”
“He didn’t tell me the full story. He only told me I was adopted. I did a little digging around of my own, but I discovered the whole truth too late, just like everyone else. Richard Leyton knew he was ill; lung cancer tends to give something of a warning, he just didn’t expect it to get him so quickly. There were several projects he still intended to tidy up. This particular little batch of secrets was one of them.”
“But once you did know about the babies, when you knew what the mothers had been told, why weren’t you honest then?”
“I talked to Luke some years ago, gave him his mother’s name, and a little more. I gather the mother reunion wasn’t especially fruitful, though I know he made better use of the information about his father’s actual purchase of a baby. You spoke to Luke too, I believe? I did tell him I thought it was a little unwise to discuss his personal matters with a complete stranger, but what can you do? The man drinks too much, takes too many drugs. He’s not always as sensible as he could be. Rather excessively rash sometimes.” Then she added, almost as an afterthought, “Violent too.”
Georgina crossed back to Lees and placed his shaking hand beneath the blanket, smoothed his messy hair, stared into his face. She shook her head, “Look at him. He’s the one who needs protecting. I’ve known this man all my life. He was my father’s oldest friend. Perhaps I had a duty to tell the other adoptees their truths, but I believe I had a greater loyalty to him. Samuel Lees was one of the most amazing, inspired, passionate people I’ve ever known. The things he’s done in the past ten, twenty years – the whole new lives he’s made possible for people who thought they should give up hope.”
“Yes, I know.”
“This man’s work has made a difference to a huge number of people. Even if he hadn’t changed in the past couple of years, all this illness, even if I didn’t have to parent him half the time, he’s still the same man. Why would I betray that?”
“
But it’s other people’s lives.”
“You seem to think you have the right to involve yourself in other people’s secrets.”
“To tell them the truth.”
“And truth’s the most important thing, is it?”
“It is to me.”
“Then you’re being very naive. Most people never know half their family truths, no matter who gave birth to them, where they came from. The whole truth is not all it’s cracked up to be.”
“Your father sold seven babies.”
“Five. I was a gift. Your friend Christopher was free.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Saz could barely contain her anger, nor could she just leave it. She wanted to make Georgina understand. But even more than that, she wanted to force Georgina to agree with her. “Your father – birth father – used your adoptive father to sell other people’s babies. To steal and then sell other people’s babies. The money that you were brought up on came from those sales.”
“Hardly. Leyton had plenty of money of his own. The fee was an added extra. In many ways I think it helped the adoptive parents to feel it was real. For many people things aren’t quite authentic unless they actually pay for them.”
Saz tried again, “Your fathers deprived those mothers of the babies they gave birth to. They lied to them and took away the children they wanted.”
“Mine didn’t. She wanted God to smite us down, although I gather she eventually managed to find forgiveness for her own sins. Very convenient, this born-again Christianity.”
“Your mother got beaten senseless by someone mixed up in all this and she died in hospital this morning.”
“Sukie Planchet died this morning, I know. But thank you anyway for breaking the news so gently.”
“Shit, I’m sorry, I …”
“It doesn’t matter. Really. Andrea Leyton was my mother. The woman who gave birth to me never wanted me. She asked my birth father to help her abort me.”
“Even if she did, she did give birth to you.”
Georgina smiled, “For goodness sake, you’re incredibly emotive about it all, aren’t you?”
“What do you mean?”
“I never knew her. Not really. She didn’t matter. The delightful little birth-mother reunion is not the ideal scenario for everyone, you know.”
“No, but …”
Georgina wandered around the room, absent-mindedly moving the odd ornament, her mind concentrated on explaining her position to Saz. “Listen, she didn’t want me and she didn’t grieve or suffer a broken heart when my father took me from her. No part of her ever played a mother to me.”
“She never had a chance.”
“She didn’t want one.”
Saz didn’t know how to speak to her. It was as if Georgina had simply decided to unhook from any attachment, real or imagined, she might have had with Sukie.
“Is that why you got someone to hurt her?”
Georgina laughed, “Ah, no. I didn’t ‘get’ anyone to do anything. Nothing quite so crass. The woman was a nutter. After you went to see her, she called here. Samuel’s number is in the book. He isn’t hard to find. You found him after all. She started threatening him. Hellfire and brimstone mostly. She’s done it on occasion over the years, but it never used to worry Sam before. He knew she wasn’t especially sane. The problem is, he’s not too comprehending any more either.”
“What did she want?”
“Promised eternal damnation. Which is not new – he’s been guaranteed that ever since he became involved in the fertility issue.” She smiled at Saz, “Especially since he got into the dangerous field of promising families to those who cannot have them by more natural means.”
Saz had no intention of having this discussion. She didn’t know how much Georgina knew about her and Molly, but she certainly wasn’t going to give away any more than necessary.
“And you think a religious fanatic’s threat could harm him?”
“Last week, following your visit, she threatened to damage my father, to expose him. Now, to most people the rantings of a religious fanatic wouldn’t mean a thing. However, to the far right and equally religious who’ve loathed my father’s ideas for quite some time, a scandal from his past is just what they need to damage the work which is going on right now, the work he started.”
“But that doesn’t affect you directly.”
“Not so. As I appear to have taken on both my adoptive father’s work and my birth father’s secrets, that woman opening her crazy mouth also was threatening to damage me. And not only me, but Luke as well.” Saz’s stomach lurched when she realized that Georgina was confirming her suspicions, “Luke?”
Georgina nodded, “He has his own reasons for caring that Samuel’s story is kept quiet. Unlike you, I’m not interested in divulging truths from other people’s lives. Anyway, I don’t know Luke all that well, we’ve done a little business together. But he does seem to have a terrible temper on him, doesn’t he?”
Saz stepped back towards the door, “You told him about Sukie so he’d shut her up?”
“No. You told him about Sukie.”
Saz’s throat was dry and she found herself protesting, “I didn’t name her. I told him I’d spoken to my client’s father’s ex-mistress.”
“That’s right. And I told him who the client was. Then, once she’d started calling Sam, I merely mentioned to Luke that Sam had received a couple of threatening phone calls from the woman. What Luke did with the information was up to him.”
Lees started muttering again and Georgina turned away to the table. “He probably wants a whisky. He quite likes a drink at this time of the evening. It’s often when he perks up, sometimes even starts making sense. Are you sure you wouldn’t like one?”
FORTY-SEVEN
Saz stood stock still, the open door behind her. In the two weeks since Molly had told her about the baby, she had managed maybe one good night’s sleep. Her head was racing, heart fast-pumping with exhaustion and adrenalin-amplified fury. And Georgina’s calm was incredibly infuriating. Quite clearly she believed that Saz had nothing to touch her. Unfortunately Saz thought she was probably right. She watched as the impeccably dressed woman fixed another drink for herself and her father, her thin body and piercing blue eyes forcefully reminding Saz of the battered woman now lying dead in a hospital morgue. Despite the huge array of nastiness Saz had been exposed to in the past, the idea that Georgina could possibly have known Luke would attack her birth mother had knocked her sideways.
Although it didn’t surprise her quite as much as the heavy crystal glass that Lees threw from his chair, delivering a glancing blow to her right temple. “Interfering little madam!”
He was obviously not as frail as he had at first seemed. Nor quite as confused. Evidently his daughter was right when she said he was more himself in the evenings. Georgina stepped in to try to stop him hitting out further, but Saz wanted to hear.
“What could you know about wanting a child so badly that you would do anything at all to have one?”
“What?”
“I’ve studied this: our society values a man by the completeness of his family.”
“And a woman too, actually.”
“We live in a world that judges worth by the most basic ability to carry out a simple primal function.”
“Yeah, well, I do know that. But the fact that our society has iniquitous values can’t possibly justify your behaviour.”
“What on earth could you know of it?”
Saz wanted to explain that she really did understand, could absolutely empathize with the parents who had adopted babies from him. But while she knew what he meant, she didn’t really think that stealing other people’s babies was such a fucking brilliant solution. She would have said exactly that, except that it was clear she’d already said too much. Lees was evidently not used to being argued with. He wrenched himself out of his seat and, before she had time to realize, his heavy stick came smashing towards her face. She ducked away from hi
s aim and managed to avoid the full force of the great chunk of carved ebony knocking out her front teeth. She then found herself smacked forwards from behind by something altogether larger and stronger. Someone who had come in the door behind her, the door Georgina had apparently left open for the purpose.
Saz was winded by what felt like a boot to the kidneys. She struggled away from the source of the pain, half-blinded by the tears stinging in her eyes, retching from the force of the blow. Georgina was screaming at both Lees and whoever was beating Saz from behind. Lees was half up from his chair and shouting down at Saz crawling on the ground, trying to catch her breath. If Lees hadn’t been entirely aware of what was going on when Saz first broke in, he was giving a very good impression of being all-there right now.
“Those girls could never have cared for the children they gave birth to. They were relieved. The babies were dead as far as they were concerned. They didn’t even have to feel guilty about giving the child up. I made it better for them.”
Saz tried to disagree. She really wanted to tell Lees he was wrong, explain that probably those girls would rather have been offered a choice, that it simply wasn’t his right to make those decisions for them anyway. She knelt up as best she could, lower back throbbing with the effort. She lifted her aching head to speak, but before she could get more than three words out, she was kicked again from behind, her head this time smacked with the full force of a big body behind the boot. Then a hand came back from that force to wrench her upwards by a fistful of hair.
As Saz turned, crying out against whoever was ripping her hair from her head, the other hand smashing itself against her body mutated into a thick fist slamming into her stomach. She opened her eyes long enough to see Luke Godwin’s enraged face. She registered who it was that was trying to hurt her so badly, and with that awareness came the knowledge that Sukie had been in just such a position just about a week earlier. Rather than scaring her, the thought of Sukie’s suffering infuriated Saz. Though a good head shorter than Luke, she wheeled him round anyway, dragging him with her from the hold he had on her hair. The unexpected force pulling against him sent Luke sprawling across the room and slammed him into one of the heavy filing cabinets. Saz ripped Lees’ stick from his flailing hand and launched herself at Luke with it. She managed to get in a couple of good smacks across his face, ebony into cartilage and bone, one of which resulted in a very satisfying crunch and a nasal yell from his bloodied mouth, but she wasn’t quite strong enough either to beat back the tall man’s own physical strength or to defend herself from the blind fury that was fuelling it. Saz managed to pull herself up so that she was standing over him, but as she did so Luke kicked a heavy foot into her left knee, sending her flying back into the three oxygen tanks against the wall. From there, half pinned down by the heavy tank that fell across her torso, Saz would have seen the horror on Georgina’s face, heard her screaming, if all of her own senses had not been filled by the slow-motion sound and vision of Luke scrabbling to his feet, lumbering across the room to charge at her, the full force of his right boot into the side of her head, her left eye, her nose. Though she tried to push him away with increasingly battered hands, his foot wouldn’t stop: repeated mechanical crunch of his fat boot against her head, neck, torso. Lees’ oldman shouting and Georgina’s horrified screaming, constant counterpoint anti-music to the other noise magnified inside her head – sound of tearing skin, cracking bone. Eventually Saz retired into her own darkness, nothing left with which to fight back, animal-curled against the next thrust of abuse, a beating following her around the room wherever she managed to drag herself.