Third Child

by Kate Mitchell

  A night of entertainment had finished with a horror story.

  It was late when Cecelia left, and the reason for this was because Angelina couldn’t stop crying. She kept on blaming herself for not stopping this procedure.

  That day in the afternoon, Angelina and the team between them had murdered a baby, and it was legal. Everything Angelina had said was now all mumbled. There was no record of the baby, everything which might have been recorded on the register would be deleted once the money was passed over. Angelina knew this because she had looked for it.

  The child had been alive, it had moved and seen the world—it had looked at her. This was life, wasn’t it?

  It was gone three in the morning before Cecelia finally left with the promise of speaking to her at the weekend. Angelina was terrified and afraid. Today was Thursday. ‘Thursday’s child has far to go,’ was the adage. But this Thursday’s child was not going anywhere, not now. What a mess? But just as she was about to leave there was a telephone call, the phone rang frightening them both like the call of death. Angelina wouldn’t answer it, she was too frightened and besides, her voice had become hoarse.

  Who was ringing her at this time of night? Cecelia walked across to the white old-fashioned telephone and picked it up.

  ‘Hello,’ she snapped into the receiver. ‘What do you want?’

  There was no answer, and for three or more seconds there was silence, and then the receiver clicked as it was replaced.

  ‘Oh, what the hell,’ Cecelia frowned. She had just been through a gruesome story and now someone was playing dirty tricks. A deep breather, probably.

  If only. Cecelia’s mind was caught in a time trap. If she could turn back the clock now that she had been privy to these events and say no to Angelina’s pleas, then she would do so with pleasure. Angelina was like a predator by using Cecelia like this. And now she understood why Angelina had chosen her instead of someone else, or perhaps she had tried someone else, but they had been wise and said no to her. And now, she had brought these ghosts back home.

  Hurrying to her bathroom cabinet, the tablets she kept just in case of an emergency were taken off the shelf, her little night-time friends. Sleeping tablets. She would take two tonight to sleep. Sleep away that awful reality. Tomorrow, she would deal with the effects of her sleepers.

  When the alarm went off later that morning, Cecelia had come to the sensible conclusion that she was not going to deal with this woman again. Let this Angelina find someone else to unburden herself on, because really, how did she know if what Angelina was telling her was true or even real?

  A stale headache was accruing its toll from the lack of hydration. She needed to drink and take a couple of painkillers which meant risking more tiredness. It served her right for allowing herself to be manipulated. Stick to what you know, weddings, births, and obituaries. Life’s dramatics and its adrenalin were not worth it, not if she wanted to keep her sanity.

  Ringing the office, Cecelia asked what they had for her. Her boss told Cecelia there was a demonstration outside a fertility clinic, she could cover that.

  Such are the coincidences in life that having spoken to this woman last night, the world had awoken to the facts about the lack of control behind those closed doors. If she could have done, Cecelia would have refused to cover it. But the facts were when it came to the bitter arguments of need, money kept her going, although, in real terms, it wouldn’t be much.

  Drinking coffee at double the usual strength, Cecelia collected her jacket and slammed the door behind her. It was a gray day in a gray world, summer was officially over, and still it was warm, though it didn’t feel like it. It felt more like the onset of winter, with wind and rain rubbed into the day making it colder than it should be. But that was how it always was when she took sleepers.

  Catching the bus, it immediately got caught up in traffic. It was that time of the day, but every time now was that time of day. No one looked at each other anymore, it was safer that way.

  Already, Cecelia was able to see the not too small gathering. Before she arrived at the meeting place, she could feel the anger.

  There were two parties at the rally, one was pro-abortion calling themselves, women’s right, and the other side was on the rights of the unborn child. Walking through the demonstrators, Cecelia was looking for the right person to ask, someone who looked intelligent, someone from both sides.

  It always amazed Cecelia that people could hold opposing ideas on the same subject. People just didn’t talk to each other, each side thinking they were right while knowing the other side must be completely wrong. But nothing is a hundred percent.

  It is clear, Cecelia began her piece on the protest, that as it stands, the woman bearing the child should have permission to do what she wants with her body. This being her only property. But after a certain amount of time, the developing infant inside her also has status and thus must be protected by law…

  Relaxing her hands on her laptop, Cecelia began imagining the baby which Angelina had brought to her through her story. But it was the images of the child’s destruction which made him appear much more real by placing that incredible knowledge into her mind. A child who only came to life because of his horrific death. His dreadful death had then been worth something at least. There must be some reason for his short existence.

  On everything, the time comes when you must make up your mind if you believe what has been said or not. It was a question in which every wicket of the argument had been touched and satisfactorily verified with one’s sense of justice.

  Angelina might be right when she related the case to her. And if Angelina was telling the truth, then something had to be done about it. Angelina’s fear about the clinic and what it could do to her if she talked to someone and it wasn’t followed up, was frightening. But if the authorities did, and the clinic was stormed and all its technicians and management were prosecuted, Angelina Joseph would be seen as a heroine to the public and herself and she wouldn’t need to go into hiding.

  So, why not go and see Angelina tomorrow and explain that nothing could be done to her if she went to the medical overlords?

  At last, the place where Cecelia liked to live where evil had been done away with returned. Where everyone would be kind to each other, and flowers grew in the summertime. Where the birds sang and people smiled, and everyone was happy.

  She was not going to be angry with Angelina anymore. She had not upset her world and way of life. The righteousness will heal the wrongdoers, and everything would turn out all right. Right now, Cecelia would give Angelina a buzz to tell her, her plan.

  ‘Hello Angelina, it’s me, Cecelia.’

  ‘Oh,’ was all she said.

  But this was not enough to put Cecelia off. ‘I’ve been thinking about what you said last night, and I want to talk a bit more about it with you. Do you mind? I can come over tomorrow. I’ve been thinking about what you told me, it would make a good story—a seriously good one. But first, I need you to give me names. I know the woman who had the late abortion is called Ruth, but I also want to know the name of the clinic and the gynecologist.’

  ‘I think I might have made a mistake,’ Angelina sounded young so very young as if she had regressed thirty years back into childhood.

  ‘I understand if you’re scared, and now you’ve changed your mind because it brings up too many bad memories. But…’

  ‘I’ve been going through a bad time—I just split up with my boyfriend…’

  Holding the receiver closer to her ears, Cecelia began frowning. What was this story she was telling her now? She couldn’t have made the other story up; it was impossible because Cecelia had believed her. It was more likely she was scared and felt threatened.

  ‘Yes, what you told me was a bit far-fetched, but we still need to talk about it.’

  ‘I’m sorry I got you involved,’ Angelina was now panicking. ‘I’m sorry, but I’ve been going through a bad time. What I should have told you was that it was me who
had the abortion. No one else except me.’

  ‘Okay,’ Cecelia was mentally ticking off the idea that the story which had been told wasn’t real, but it was more real to Cecelia because she believed it. It would make one hell of a story. Angelina hadn’t been lying when she told her the story, she just got scared, that was all.

  4

  First, she would get Angelina’s story before telling her editor. Doing it this way would give her control over the story, rather than him telling her what to do and making it his story.

  The excitement Cecelia felt was overwhelming. She had a project which was able to take her out of her stale life, and this time make her appreciated and respected in the world of journalism. True it was a horrific story, but that’s how people make their names.

  Finishing off her piece about the rally, Cecelia emailed it to her editor. Completion came with a satisfactory feeling which called for a long cool glass of wine. She deserved it. What would she do about tomorrow? Why not take the entire day off to prepare, chill out and just do nothing, it would set her up for Saturday?

  Sometimes, it’s good to take a day off and walk about the city, LA is always beautiful, especially at night. She would catch the bus and take the tour right from 6800 street and mingle amongst the tourists on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Meet all the stars and imagine for that fleeting moment they were there and about to put their hands and feet into the memorial of immortal cement. Stardust, these impressions, and these images would outlive them.

  She smiled as she ran for the bus and took her seat next to the window.

  How different Angelina and herself were. Making comparisons with Angelina made her envious which was a non-profitable emotion to possess. Angelina had done well with her life, instead of jealousy, it would be better if she tried to emulate her.

  Beautiful, clever, well dressed, you name it, but Cecelia could be as lovely as Angelina, just in a different way. Her long dark hair could be dressed in a new style, she always meant to do something with it. She had never been overweight, in fact, quite the opposite, but some exercising would be a good idea to tone up. Do it at home if she didn’t like going to the gym. Yes, with Cecelia’s new style, she could look just as good as Angelina. However, apathy is a strong force to fight against.

  At the end of Friday having walked past Marilyn Monroe, she walked along Sunset Boulevard past Hollywood Wax Museum. This was a place that both spooked and enchanted her although she had never been inside.

  So rich a city made on the wings of fairy tales, she counted herself fortunate to have been born here rather than anywhere else in the world. How lucky she was, and how wonderful she now felt.

  And then home, this is what one does when taking a day off.

  From outside as the key went into the lock, Cecilia could hear the telephone ringing. Doesn’t it always happen like this? By the time she got to the telephone, she knew they were going to ring off. People instinctively know that you are either in the loo or outside like she was now. It was exasperating.

  Sticky fingers when trying to open the door. Kicking off her shoes, a cardinal rule in this apartment, she ran across the floor and leaned across her small two-seat sofa to take hold of the receiver. Whoever it was on the other end probably sighed and wouldn’t wait any longer to hear her answer, hello.

  The thwarted call wasn’t going to ruin her day. If it was important, he or she would ring back. But if not, never mind. It could have been Angelina. Cecelia smiled; it was just as well that she didn’t get to the phone in time.

  ‘I know who it was,’ a sigh, and a smile. It was positively Angelina. She was ringing to say she had changed her mind again, but it didn’t matter, there was no going back once Cecelia had made up her mind. Angelina had been right about one thing, though, this could be her break and this time she was going to take it.

  Excited, this was a new feeling for Cecelia, she was looking forward to talking with Angelina and try to bend her stiff arm into working alongside her. This time, she would not be overlooked. This time she was on the road to being rich and famous. This chant was a piece of good verbal music humming in her mind.

  No hangover this morning from the sleepers and neither had she drank much. She had a good day, and she didn’t regret having taken it off as she did not regret buying herself a good meal. She had a cup of tea, brushed her teeth and combed her hair. And yes, she was singing if only to herself. But wasn’t life great? And why shouldn’t she take a taxi to Angelina’s apartment? Well, why not? The good feeling was carrying over today. And good feelings are what lives are made of.

  Perhaps she and Angelina could be great friends once the story had been released and national coverage had exposed what had happened. Angelina would become a celebrity, someone who stood and shouted out and put herself at risk. And you never know, Angelina’s exposure might draw herself into the limelight.

  Celebrities, yes why not, people had done even less and become a celebrity? A reality show, an autotune screamer, or someone who married a celebrity and claimed it for themselves, these were the new people on the block. At least Angelina and her would be doing something important. They would be the new people that everyone wanted to know, and she would write a book about it which would be a best seller.

  Was she going on a high? Very possibly, but it was a good high for there was something to feel good about

  Just by luck, on the television news there was an item about Haleigh and his new wife, Ruth. The news said that they were awaiting the arrival of their baby. Haleigh was born in America, his father was born in the Lebanon, he arrived in America with great wealth which he made into an even greater fortune. Like his father, Haleigh, whose name was Americanized, became even wealthier, purported to be in the tens of billions. The happy couple was hoping for a boy.

  Before Cecelia arrived at Angelina’s building, a dark feeling entered her stomach instinctively warning her that something was wrong, and it wasn’t anything to do with her mood. She couldn’t say, but she knew something had happened. This feeling was confirmed when she saw a group of people huddled outside the building. If she could only put her finger on it. A hunch, suspicion is not much good when there is no knowledge of what this feeling is about.

  Be afraid of what you don’t know—be afraid of life. Spook yourself. It’s stupid really, but that’s how fear works.

  Policemen were milling around in reception which caused hesitation. Shall we go in or turn around and go out? This would only bring attention. Looking at their faces to read what was going on, but this time Cecelia’s skill failed her as she ended up with only guesses. What had happened in this building?

  Stepping inside the block of luxury apartments, Cecelia’s presence caught the eyes of the receptionist, it was a challenge for Cecelia to come across and speak to her. The receptionist’s interested head cocked to one side held the expression of what do you want.

  ‘Hello, I seem to have lost my way?’

  ‘Where are you’re looking for?’ she did not smile.

  This was not good.

  ‘I was supposed to meet my friend; we were going for lunch. Is the hotel Boulevard near here?’

  ‘It’s not far to walk. If you go out here and turn right and walk for about five minutes, you will come to it. You won’t miss it. It’s a very large white building.’

  She must have walked right past it without having noticed, Cecelia explained. And now she was almost bowing and curtsying to an apartment worker. Sycophant, obsequious, Cecelia was glad to get out of the building and to show that she was attending, Cecelia began walking in the suggested direction. But this was only a diversion because she was intending to return to the small crowd standing around.

  ‘Excuse me, but can you tell me what’s happened.’

  A man quickly looked Cecelia up and down and then smiled. He was just three or four inches taller than Cecelia. A black tee-shirt and jacket, he looked very smart in a casual classic way.

  ‘A woman who lived in that building there,’
he pointed. ‘fell in front of a bus and was killed instantly. An awful tragedy for someone so young.’

  Something like a hammer hit Cecelia’s chest. The beating of the dead had happened and now it was getting louder.

  ‘Yes,’ muttered Cecelia, her voice was withheld by her lungs.

  ‘Someone said they saw her being pushed. Speculation, I know but there’s always a certain amount of truth. She might have been pushed; she might not have been pushed. But for a young woman to take her life just when she is at her best…’ He shrugged. ‘It’s tragic, isn’t it?’

  Just an ordinary man, who once you have seen him, you would instantly forget him. A bystander who had nothing to do in life was now filling his day on the existence of another’s passing.

  ‘Poor woman,’ Cecelia said frowning and beginning to feel uncomfortable. ‘Have they said who it is?’

  ‘No, they haven’t,’ he smiled revealing his teeth. ‘It’s police work. They keep their fingers to their nose, but I have heard that she was young, blonde and very lovely, which makes it all the more tragic.’

  The world which had opened to Cecelia had now switched off its lights. Her vision was beginning to fail her, and the world was becoming dark and fuzzy. The strange colors of nausea were perpetrating mauve and black over Cecelia’s retina. Daylight had outstripped Cecelia’s control. It was time to say goodnight for a while.

  She knew who this person was, and this had become a shock. No one needed to tell her that the deceased person was Angelina. More the shock because she knew for sure that someone had murdered her. Protecting their secrets, the rich and vain stood outside of the law, and Angelina had broken this trust and it had cost her, her life.

  ‘Are you okay?’ another man asked taking hold of her. He was now interested in her.

  ‘Yes, I’m sorry, I seem to have something in my eye,’ holding her head down to get the blood pumping back into her brain, she needed to get home. She was going to faint. ‘Could you hail a cab for me? I would appreciate it, please.’ Where had the world gone? It was swirling away and drawing her into its vortex. Please don’t let me pass out here in front of everyone. People take control of you if you show any weakness.