by Fiona Lowe
Eventually, Doug poured the last of the coffee from the thermos. ‘Did you name her?’
She nodded. ‘Susan.’
‘Susan.’ He rolled the name around his mouth as if he was auditioning it and then he smiled at her. ‘Nice name, Eddy.’
‘I always think of her as Susan but I suppose she’s grown up with a completely different name.’
‘Has she ever tried to contact you?’
‘No.’ She laced her fingers tightly, welcoming the uncomfortable press of bone on bone. ‘When the law changed in 1989 I thought she might try. I was on tenterhooks for a long time. The thing is, I don’t even know if she’s been told she’s adopted. I don’t even know if she’s alive.’
The wind blew his salt and pepper curls into his eyes. ‘What about you? Have you searched for her?’
His questions brought back her life-long agony. ‘Today it’s all very different—they have open adoption—but back then it was closed and locked down tighter than a drum. Once they successfully forced you to give away your child, you lost all rights to access any details. They sealed the original birth certificate and issued an amended one so that I couldn’t see the adopting family’s name and they couldn’t see mine. They made everything leakproof. They didn’t want you trying to make contact with the child, and if you applied for any information, you were flatly denied.’
Edwina didn’t tell him that the year Susan turned nine she’d hired a private investigator. Nor did she mention Richard’s reaction when he’d discovered what she’d done. She’d relived enough traumas for one day. ‘We had a family holiday in Tasmania the year Susan turned twelve and I found myself staring at every girl we saw around that age, looking to see if she had my eyes. I know it was silly but I was desperate. I don’t even know if a Tasmanian family adopted her, although it’s likely, I suppose. Now though, she could be anywhere.’
‘I can’t believe we have a daughter,’ he said for at least the fiftieth time as he picked up her hand again and pressed it gently between both of his.
‘I’ve just found out I’m about to become a great-grandmother,’ she admitted. ‘Charlie, she’s Harriet’s daughter, is pregnant. She’s almost the same age I was …’
He gave her a knowing glance. ‘Is that why you chose today to tell me about our daughter?’
She puffed out a sound. ‘I’d always planned to tell you, Doug. Always. But you know as well as I do that we’ve both been studiously avoiding going back to that awful time. Hearing Charlie’s news forced me to take the bull by the horns.’
His mouth curved into a sad smile. ‘I’m glad you did. At least life today’s a lot different. Things will be easier for Charlie.’
She thought about the town and what Harriet had said at breakfast. ‘I’m not so sure it’s all that different. Scratch the surface and the stigma, shame, prejudice and judgement of unmarried mothers are still lurking, ready to pounce.’
‘But surely she’s got more choice than you had?’
‘Yes and no. Choice is only helpful if it offers you an alternative you wish to take. My parents and the hospital forced me to give up our child for adoption. If an abortion had been an option in 1968 I wouldn’t have wanted to take it but my parents still would have forced me to. Harriet wants Charlie to terminate the pregnancy. She believes that having a baby at eighteen will ruin Charlie’s life.’
A harsh bark of laughter tumbled over her lips. ‘Actually, I’m sure Harriet feels the pregnancy is a stain on her own life but considering what James has just done to her, in the eyes of the town she’s covered in indelible ink anyway. She’s threatened not to support Charlie if she has the baby and she’s refusing to speak to her until she capitulates. None of it’s so very different from what my parents did to me.’
A rush of emotion hit her and she took a moment to steady her breathing. ‘There might be a generation between my parents and Harriet but the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. What Harriet doesn’t understand is that for Charlie, having a termination will damage her in ways that will affect the rest of her life.’
Sympathy and understanding filled his dark eyes. ‘Have you told her that?’
I wish you’d died instead of Dad. Harriet’s words sliced into Edwina again as sharp and as painful as when they’d first been hurled at her. Her relationship with Harriet had never been strong but now it was a burnt-out shell. ‘No. Even if I had, she wouldn’t have listened. Harriet always thinks she knows best. She was born that way and being a Mannering and a surgeon has only embedded that into a firm belief. In her eyes I lack credibility. The closest I got was telling her that I’m supporting Charlie’s decision to keep the baby.’
‘Good for you.’
‘Harriet doesn’t agree. Of course, if she refuses to be involved then I’ll support Charlie financially too. My announcement’s rocked the girls, I saw it on their faces. They’re struggling to align my life and the person they believe me to be with what they see as a very out-of-character decision. I know there’s going to be questions but I refuse to let what happened to me happen to Charlie. Losing a child is … Enough damage has been done …’
He gripped her hands more tightly. ‘Eddy …’
‘Yes,’ she said, coming out of her reverie.
His face took on a pensive look at odds with his usually relaxed demeanour. ‘I want to try to find her.’
‘Find her?’
‘Yes. Find our daughter.’ Anxiety hovered in his eyes. ‘Do you?’
Her heart turned over with joy then flipped back with relief but it wasn’t enough to silence all doubt. She scanned his face, seeking evidence to give truth to his words, fearing she couldn’t cope if he changed his mind. ‘Are you sure?’
He didn’t hesitate. ‘Of course I’m sure.’
He made it sound so easy but it was far from that. She’d had years to mull over the very real consequences of introducing her love child to her family, although with Richard’s death, one of those consequences was now invalid. ‘Searching for her doesn’t mean we’ll find her. Even if we do, it doesn’t mean she’ll want to meet us. She might be happy with her life and this could throw her. She might hate me for giving her up. She—’
‘All of those things and more are possible but I don’t want to die without having tried,’ he said gently. ‘Do you?’
Back in 2012, when the Tasmanian government had made a formal apology to the mothers, children and families affected by forced adoption and opened the doors for access to adoption records, she’d almost contacted the department, but Richard was still alive then and she’d already sacrificed enough. If his death hadn’t come six months after Eliza’s she probably would have written then, but for a few months it had been as much as she could manage just getting up, getting dressed and getting through the day.
Now she was no longer on her own. She and Doug could search together. During the process when hope wavered and turned toward hopelessness, they could hold each other up. With him by her side see could find the strength to do this.
‘Yes. I do want to find her.’
Relief spilled into his smile. ‘Thank God. I suppose we start searching on the internet, do we? I’m not too flash with computers. What about you?’
‘I’m not too shabby. I’ve even bought things on eBay,’ she said with a laugh before sobering. ‘Doug, I want to try to find her. But what about your family and my girls? Telling them they have a half-sister they’ve never heard of will be like dropping a bomb on them.’
Doug slowly rubbed his jaw with the backs of his fingers. ‘It’s gonna be a shock for them, for sure. I doubt mine have given any thought to their old man loving anyone but their mother, let alone the fact there’s a new sister out there somewhere. But they already know life’s full of surprises—some are good and some are bad. Your girls know that too. They’ve lost their dad.’ His voice quietened. ‘And we lost Sophia far too early.’
A crazy dart of something akin to jealousy flashed green and pierced her. She gave hersel
f a shake. It was a waste of energy envying a dead woman even if she’d got to spend her adult life with Doug. He was right about surprises: life was full of them. Meeting him again after all these years was the best type of surprise even if they now had to navigate the rocky shoals of their children’s responses to their new-but-old relationship.
Even so, his prosaic response surprised her. ‘You’re not worried how your children will react to me and the news of our daughter?’
His eyes widened. ‘Are you kidding? Of course I’m worried. One thing I’ve learned from raising four kids is that if you dare predict how they’ll react, you’re always wrong.’
She knew exactly what he meant. ‘I think it’s easier if we keep the secret for now. There’s no point upsetting everyone if our search hits a brick wall. I mean, we may not be able to find her. Or if we do, she may not want to have anything to do with us.’
Doug frowned and shook his head. ‘I don’t like secrets, Eddy. The last time I was part of a secret with you it caused us years of separation. Crikey, we lost our daughter, and keeping her secret has hurt you for years. All that’s got to stop. If we’re searching for her, I want to be totally up front with our families.’
Fear and resignation mingled in her veins, setting up a jittery sensation that vibrated all over her body. ‘Being upfront and dealing with things head on isn’t something my family’s very good at. It isn’t something I’m very good at.’
He stroked the back of her hand. ‘Sounds like it might be time to get the ball rolling then. What’s the worst thing that can happen?’
Her fingers tugged at her pearls as a slightly hysterical sound rose in her throat. ‘My daughters will never speak to me again.’
‘I guess that might happen to me too. Let’s hope you’re underestimating them.’
‘I’m not underestimating Harriet.’
‘Your granddaughter will understand.’
‘That goes directly against your theory of not predicting reactions.’
‘You got me there. Still, she’d be foolish to reject the one woman who’s lovingly accepting her decision to keep her baby.’
She couldn’t help but smile at him. He had a way of making her feel optimistic even when things were bleak. As much as she didn’t want to face the girls, she knew he was right. Once they started searching for Sus—their daughter, there was the possibility the girls might accidently discover they had a half-sister. She’d seen the fallout of Harriet discovering Charlotte’s pregnancy by stumbling onto Facebook. No, it would be far worse if they found out from another source. At least if Edwina sat them down and told them together she’d know they had all the facts.
‘All right then,’ she said, sounding far more confident than she felt, ‘the secret’s coming out. When will you tell your family?’
He rubbed his hands together briskly like a man with a plan. ‘We’ll tell them together. It makes sense to tell your girls at lunch on Sunday. Once we’ve got that out of the way, we’ll organise a time next week to tell mine face to face. Then we’ll start searching for our girl. From now on, Eddy, we’re doing everything together.’
Her heart filled and ached with the weight of his love and support but as wonderful as it was, it overwhelmed her. Tears coursed down her cheeks again. She found it odd that she’d cried more in two hours than she’d done in years. When she finally managed to pull herself together, she gave him a watery kiss. ‘I love you, Doug.’
‘I love you too, Eddy. This time, nothing short of death is going to separate us.’
The idea of him dying when she’d only just found him terrified her. ‘Well, you’d better stay healthy then,’ she said briskly to cover her tremulous emotions. ‘And think about some exercise and cutting back on the beer, because I’m demanding at least twenty years with you.’
He grinned widely. ‘I won’t argue with you about that.’
* * *
‘Earth to Edwina?’ Harriet’s annoyed voice pulled Edwina back to lunch and away from Friday’s momentous conversation.
‘Doug, be warned,’ Harriet continued. ‘Our mother has these concerning moments of vagueness.’
Edwina ignored the jibe and instead glanced along the table at her family. Anxiety tangoed with the lure of shedding the crushing weight of a long-held secret. It made her feel both skittish and strangely calm all at the same time. Doug caught her gaze and under the protection of the tablecloth, he gave her knee a gentle squeeze. Sunday was now.
CHAPTER
19
Harriet tapped her foot against the leg of the teak table, feeling her impatience rise. When she’d arrived at Glenora for Easter Sunday lunch and was told that James had thankfully already been prevented from having a heart to heart with Charlotte, most of her had wanted to leave. However, as she’d come under the guise of attending the lunch, she’d had to stay. Her plan to give Doug the third degree had instantly been derailed when Xara and Steve served the roast almost as soon as she’d been introduced to the man. As she’d taken her seat, both Xara and Georgie had said, sotto voce, ‘Don’t grill Doug while the children are at the table.’ She wondered whether that included her child.
Charlotte had pointedly seated herself at the opposite end of the table, as far away from Harriet as possible. It suited her—she had nothing left to say to Charlotte until she came to her senses. Over lunch, her daughter had been silent on more than just the topic of her pregnancy; she’d hardly contributed to the conversation at all. Her beautiful face was pale and drawn and for a fleeting moment, Harriet was torn between wanting to hug her and wanting to slap her for creating such a mess of her life.
Really? And your life is in such great shape.
Shut up. She’d overruled the unwanted commentary from her psyche, reminding herself that she wasn’t the one responsible for creating the mess she currently found herself in. The rationale, however, wasn’t enough to prevent James’s words coming at her like sharp and poisonous arrows. I did what was necessary to protect your precious social standing.
She called bullshit on that. None of this was her fault. All she’d ever done was try to live her life as a pillar of the community and lead by example.
Having been banned from launching a Q&A at Doug, the lunch conversation had been fairly predictable. The meal was deconstructed—the lamb deemed tender, the creamy potatoes perfect and the Weber praised for its roasting abilities. The twins had been their precocious selves, peppering Doug with questions about his E-Type Jag. He’d answered with good humour and with far more patience than she’d have been able to muster, but then again he was probably pulling out all the stops to make a good impression on the Chirnwell daughters.
Good luck with that, Doug.
As livid as Harriet was with Edwina, it was hard not to notice the glow of happiness her mother wore like a new coat complete with dazzlingly bright gold buttons. It intensified whenever Doug was near. But Harriet and her sisters knew only too well how fickle their mother’s emotional state was and how it could flatline at any moment. Edwina’s ‘episodes’ had punctuated their lives and her father had been a saint, the way he’d coped with them.
During the long lunch, Harriet had caught some of Edwina and Doug’s covert glances. She’d swear that more than once they’d even held hands under the cover of the tablecloth. It was unsettling how age had little, if any, limiting effects on the heady feelings of lust. Apparently wisdom evaporated under its assault, making people in their sixties look ludicrous as they carried on like teenagers. Obviously, her mother’s current elevation in mood was a direct result of her body being flooded with oxytocin, adrenaline, dopamine and serotonin. It was just brain chemistry and in Harriet’s book, not enough to get Doug over the line. Lust faded soon enough and when it did, the scales would fall from her mother’s eyes. Until then, it was up to Harriet to prevent anything serious happening between them. Already his working-class values had radicalised Edwina; it was the only reason Harriet could come up with for her mother’s support of Charlot
te. Doug was nothing like her father and he didn’t belong in the family or in her mother’s social circle. She had no recollections of her parents ever befriending anyone like him. Employing him, yes. Socialising with him, no. It was a no brainer really: he had to go.
The twins were now wriggling in their chairs and Edwina excused them from the table. As they raced away, Tasha screamed in protest.
Charlotte was instantly on her feet. ‘Let’s go for a walk.’ As she released the wheelchair’s brakes, she looked at Edwina. ‘Is that okay with you, Mardi?’
Harriet took a long drink of wine but it wasn’t enough to stop the burn of anger and the renewed sting of an old but rock solid sense of betrayal. Her daughter and her mother had formed an alliance—a close bond—something she’d never shared with Edwina. God, she missed her father.
‘If it’s fine with Xara then it’s fine by me,’ Edwina replied. ‘Just be back by three for egg hunt mark two.’
Before Harriet could comment on how ridiculous it was to have another egg hunt two days after the previous one, Xara said, ‘It’s totally fine by me.’ She’d kicked back after serving lunch and was now enjoying a third glass of champagne. ‘Knock yourselves out. Tashie loves watching the mechanical bilby in Harry Hooper’s window, so allow a good five minutes for that. If you rush it, she’ll let you know.’
‘Steve, dear, would you mind taking charge of the tea and coffee?’ Edwina asked.
Georgie shot to her feet. ‘I’ll help.’
‘I’m sure Steve can handle it on his own,’ Edwina said in her best queenly voice. ‘Please stay.’
Clearly puzzled, Georgie sat down slowly and the three sisters exchanged glances. Harriet took the opportunity to seize control of the conversation. Doug had ignored her quip about Edwina’s vagueness so this time she went for a direct question.