Third Child

by Kate Mitchell

  Once Cecelia discovered she had been given the position at the clinic, she knew the tiny camera she had bought two years ago was going to come in handy. But with no pockets on her uniform, no belts or even wristwatches where personal items could be placed, a hiding place was going to be difficult. But like the other members of the caring staff, she was to wear a deaconess nurse’s hat. This would be the ideal place to secrete her camera.

  But today, on her first day, she was expected to work with another staff member to get to know the duties. Her name was Samantha, Samantha Mantle. Samantha was in her early forties and she was still a beauty. Long golden colored hair and with her large blue eyes and a smile which lit up her face. Like Angelina, every hair was impeccably kept in place, smoothed and coiled up in a bun at the back of her head.

  ‘We cannot go in there,’ Samantha pointed to the double heavy-duty hospital doors. ‘This area to us is banned. If you go in there, you risk losing your job on the spot.’

  ‘What’s in there?’ Cecelia was tempted to peep through the small window.

  ‘You are not to ask or to know.’

  ‘Are you serious?’ Cecelia showed her incredulity.

  ‘If you want to keep your job, you have to abide by the rules,’ and then she stopped to face Cecelia.

  ‘We are not paid to ask questions, that’s why the money is good. Do you understand? No one here asks any questions, the person who answers them also faces getting fired.’

  It was the sharp, cold slap of comprehension applied to Cecelia’s face. Silence and fear were what kept this clinic working. If she didn’t understand this, she was out. The cult conditions of the radical prevailed.

  Her tasks were not important, but they were needed even if they were menial, it was all about helping the clinic’s clients. Undressing and dressing them, taking blood pressure, weighing as well as measuring them. They were not too far away from the treatment of slaves except that at the end of the day, the nurses get to go home.

  Altogether three gynecologists were working at the clinic, Mr. Deer being the head of them. Cecelia saw him come out of the forbidden zone talking to one of the other gynecologists. He didn’t see her, or it could be said that he didn’t notice her because of the discreetness of her opaque uniform. He wore the traditional dress of a surgeon suggesting that he’d just come out from surgery.

  ‘We do not talk to the gynecologists,’ warned Samantha. ‘They are the royalty in this clinic as is all the patients. You don’t need to bow to them, but you must stand out of their way.’

  Cecelia fumed silently to herself.

  ‘If this is a problem, then I suggest you quit the job now,’ Samantha was angry. She didn’t like those who disobeyed these rules.

  Hygiene ranked top alongside keeping the patients’ identity private. Staff recognized themselves as being inferior. This went against everything Cecelia felt about herself, but if she was going to find out what was happening here, she had to forget about her feelings and hide behind this job.

  There was half an hour for lunch, and everyone had to eat in the clinic’s canteen. No one was allowed to bring food in, and if you had an intolerance or allergy, you were not allowed to work here in the first place.

  The food provided was healthy and tasty, no fault could be found in the meals. And while cheerful talking continued; to the side, Cecelia saw security officers walking between the tables listening into the conversation. Did no one mind they were being screened?

  This is why the money is good, Cecelia heard the voice of reason, Samantha was speaking in her mind. There wasn’t enough money for her to bribe her mouth and suppress her feelings of right and just.

  But, and again, it was a huge but. But if she wanted to get the story she had to forget once more who she was, so that she could blend in with the rest.

  ‘Now we have to go to the bathroom and wash our hands,’ said Samantha who had been sitting opposite Cecelia, watching her. ‘Germs and bacteria can kill.’

  Don’t, Cecelia warned herself, question or comment on anything, just lie low, do as your told and blend in.

  There was another break at two-thirty which was for five minutes to go to the bathroom, drink some water, wash your hands and then be back on the floor again. It was coming out of this break with Samantha and walking to her unit that she stopped.

  Two figures, husband, and wife had arrived from the back entrance of the clinic and were now walking along the white corridors. She had seen these two before on the news and now they were padding towards her dressed in reality.

  It was Ruth and Hadleigh Blaine, the billionaire royalty of business, the dealers of weaponry. The leaders of every tinpot country courted them. They had the power to make these countries winners and losers in war.

  ‘Oh hi,’ Ruth stepped ahead of her husband with a straight hand up proposing a salute and a smile to a face she thought she knew. With her head lowered and leaning to one shoulder, at forty-one she had the pose of a shy child. ‘How are you,’ a sweet word to no one in particular or perhaps to someone who would respond? That orchestrated smile which said, I’m a nice person. Be careful what you say to me and especially what you do. Everything you are or what you do will be wiped off the map. Now, that’s power.

  Impossible for Cecelia to take her eyes off Ruth. She was a slight person with dark brown eyes which when she smiled, it wasn’t noticeable that her eyes were offset. Yet, she had quite a large nose that if separated from the rest of her face would look abnormal on someone else. But Ruth’s generous lips and cheekbones counterbalanced these defects. Money makes anyone beautiful and even the camera set at the correct angle pleases the face.

  ‘Stand back,’ Samantha under her breath warned Cecelia. ‘When she passes, lower your eyes and do not speak to her for any reason.’

  Although Cecelia had heard Samantha’s advice on how to respect this special person, her eyes couldn’t obey, they were transfixed to Ruth’s abdomen. This was the birth and death place of the third child. While this famous origin bereft of several was now being shown to the world. Conception had happened and the heir line would be continued. It was a time of rejoicing for everyone.

  Black stilettoes, the lovely BB’s stopped at Cecelia’s white-shod feet when Ruth dropped her black purse next to Cecelia’s feet. The gauntlet had been thrown, someone needed serving. Immediately, Cecelia went down to retrieve it for her and as she stood, Ruth’s curious brown eyes were on her. Returning her purse, Cecelia unconsciously made a curtsy. A remarkable feat which was rewarded by Ruth’s A-listed wonderful smile.

  ‘Why thank you,’ Mrs. Blaine said staring at Cecelia. ‘Aren’t you sweet? You needn’t have done that. Hadleigh, did you see what she did?’ Ruth called to her husband. ‘I want her. I want her to be with me. You will be my friend, won’t you?’

  Samantha turned to Cecelia with a look of mixed danger and warning in her eyes, Ruth saw with annoyance. My power is over your power, and my power outranks yours.

  ‘Come with me,’ Ruth said walking ahead again. ‘I want to have as many friends as I can around me.’

  Cecelia looked to Samantha for an answer, but Samantha turned her head to the front and pulled her temper in and ignored her.

  This was Cecelia’s lucky break in every way. Her first day on the job and she was selected to be with the top people. The silent advice from Ruth to this new courtier was, you either take it or leave it, I have given you an invitation to fly with me to the top.

  Cecelia quickly recognized her offer and hurried to catch up to Ruth, always mindful of her position in this strange situation. She had heard the whispers on the social media, the history which had by loyal others tried to quell, but which appeared now and again shared by other people who hated this Ruth. Secrets which said that she had slept herself to the top, dropping her two husbands ruthlessly, no one was going to topple this woman off her throne. Now she was here, she was going to remain.

  ‘What’s your name?’ Ruth’s smile was wonderful, it had the po
wer to make everyone feel special, loved and needed.

  ‘Clara Tinder.’

  ‘Clara Tinder,’ repeated Ruth. ‘What a pretty name. Do you think we two could be friends—and please, forget who I am? I’m no one special, just an ordinary person like you who just got lucky.’

  ‘Oh no, you are special,’ hushed Cecelia with awe. ‘I see you on the television—and your charities are famous. You are an amazing person.’

  She smiled and blinked. ‘You are so kind. I think you’re amazing too. We all do the best we can in life,’ she said absentmindedly with a sigh. ‘But I will be so happy when I have my baby. I hope I will be the best mother ever, but now I get so tired; It seems I always have to be on show.’

  ‘Well, that’s understandable,’ they had reached the forbidden doors.

  The doors swung open and Mr. Deer was looking down at them, but especially at this nurse, Cecelia with disapproval, before he recognized what was happening.

  ‘Where are you going?’ he was looking at Cecelia.

  ‘Mr. Deer, are you forgetting yourself? This is my new best friend, Clara Tinder and I want you to be good to her because if you treat her badly, you’ll be doing the same to me.’

  A smile to Ruth and a frown to Cecelia. It seemed Mr. Deer had no choice. Cecelia had flown to the top on the wings of a powerful woman and he had to let her pass.

  ‘Hadleigh, be a darling and stay outside,’ said Ruth. ‘I’ve got myself a brand-new friend, so I don’t need you for a while,’ and then she grabbed hold of Cecelia’s arm. ‘We girls should stick close together,’ she cuddled up hanging on to Cecelia’s arm as if they had been great friends for all their lives. They were walking through the forbidden doors together.

  Power is given to a few people. It is a beautiful coat which stops everyone to admire. And the one who wears the coat and knows its value will remain beautiful. And Ruth was wearing her coat well. Wherever she looked suddenly sparkled, a dull day became a sunny day. But she was selective with her choices, they had to be the right people who would take care of her and speak well of her, because she had become one of the untouchables.

  Charm was something Ruth had studied before she got to where she was. She had watched others with absorption, the people who had already made it to the top. Making notes and then aping these perfectly in front of the mirror. That little look which said, oh really, how interesting, while the other one suggesting she understood sadness and respecting the suffering of others. The smile which said she was the Madonna. Yes, she was well versed and well-practiced.

  Paying attention and mimicking what these achievers had done in the past was nothing to sneeze at. Copying was the veil over a calculating woman. She was just your common tart who was a degree smarter than those with scruples, which was why she was able to sleep her way to the top. But it didn’t matter what anyone said because their words now were only splashes in the ocean. Ignore these critics and they’ll go away. These weren’t the people who joined her circle. They were frozen out of her reality to be easily dismissed if they were of no service in helping her up the ladder of power. The new law was, she was wonderful. People who spoke against her were jealous, envious and prejudiced.

  But isn’t this true because in the end, everyone is jealous of those who succeed?

  Ruth understood this when she was a child that success meant you had no values, no ethics, or morals. These were the things that when you’re struggling on the ground would come later when you got to the top. Once you were at the top, you could relax and do the things which others expected from you. Yes, it had a price. And if you could live with the price, you will enjoy the freedom of the gods.

  But Ruth had image and vanity. She had learned quickly that not everyone was in love with her. Sometimes, she would fall out of love with them when they didn’t have anything more to offer.

  ‘We must be friends for the rest of our lives,’ Ruth was still hanging on to Cecelia’s arms. ‘I instinctively know when someone is good. We should keep in contact all the time. I love my husband, but I also love my friends. Oh dear, I have to get undressed for another one of those examinations. Will you come into the dressing room with me, Clara?’ Ruth’s smile was wistful and hopeful.

  ‘Oh, I know I’m a nuisance and although being pregnant is lovely and all that. It would be nice sometimes if the man carries the baby.’ And then placing a tightened hand to her mouth she giggled.

  Angelina had been correct in her estimation, whatever the world said about her, it was difficult to dislike Ruth. She had a way of looking, childlike and sweet, vulnerable and innocent. Even though Cecelia’s logic told her that it was false, yet, the crazy arm of charm kissed the temper away to say, what did it matter? This was how she was with people who could do something for her.

  Do not be beguiled for underneath the makeup of sincerity and friendliness, Cecelia knew there was a snake ready to strike.

  In the warm lit room where the mirrors discreetly flattered, Cecelia helped Ruth undress. Her hand was flattering and gentle to the pop-bellied mother who was nearly ready to launch. As Cecelia’s hand stroked lightly over Ruth’s irregular-shaped body, she couldn’t help staring at her abdomen. It was still very big for just one child which once had contained six. And then it moved, kicked pushing out one limb, then two, a little leg ready to strike the world with life.

  Putting her hand to her mouth, Cecelia gasped with surprise and shock. Ruth looked down and then grinned.

  ‘Yes, he’s alive. Do you want to touch it?’

  ‘I can’t,’ Cecelia still had her hand to her mouth in awe.

  ‘It’s amazing. The first time it happened to me, I felt like I had a parasite growing in me. I’ve always wanted children. Go on, feel it.’

  Almost trembling, Cecelia stretched her hand across and touched the fleshed veneer across the child. This is how all children are born, developing and growing inside the warm cage of the womb. This was the magic of all life.

  And then they both smiled at each other.

  ‘I wonder what sort of person he will turn out to be,’ said Ruth looking down at her belly. ‘I hope he doesn’t turn out like his father or his grandfather. All whiskers and beard,’ and then she laughed. ‘Of course, I love Hadleigh until someone else better comes along. Well, we girls have to keep our options open.’

  Ruth had got to the top, but it still wasn’t high enough for her.

  Cecelia stepped back to take the gown she was to dress Ruth in, while Ruth’s interested eye fed off her.

  ‘Tell me something about yourself Clara,’ asked Ruth as Cecelia placed the gown around her to tie it up at the front.

  ‘There isn’t much to tell. I’m not as important and interesting as you.’

  ‘Do you have any brothers or sisters? Are you married, divorced or single and do you have any children?’

  ‘No, to all of that. I live on my own and keep myself to myself. I try to be a good person,’ she shrugged, reluctant to say anything personal. ‘You know…’

  Ruth’s attention was now riveted to Cecelia’s answer. If this was a loser, well then, she didn’t want her, but maybe, just maybe, she might come in useful.

  ‘How sad your life sounds. Well,’ she placed her hand around the still moving child. ‘I will say my prayers for you. I know what it’s like to be alone, and if I can find love, then so can you. You are a very attractive person, but you must believe it. If you believe in it, it will come true. Look at me, I got to where I am by myself. I had no help from anyone—none whatsoever. So, if I can get to the top, so can you. Just believe in yourself.’

  How many people can get to the top with self-belief if there are only a few places open? But it was a nice idea, Cecelia thought on the way home. But what had happened to Ruth had not come out of sheer luck, she had plotted her way to the top, putting herself into all the right places.

  Nevertheless, when you get to the top, it doesn’t mean you have reached ultimate happiness.

  Perhaps it is for some, b
ut for others whose goal is to prove to those who had discriminated against you as being inferior, who left you out of their sonority because you weren’t born in the right class. Who always looked down on you and spoke about you when you passed, and who was now suddenly your friends? What do you say to these people? Remember me? You thought so little of me, but I have exceeded you. You bow to me now instead of me bowing to you. When I had acknowledged you, you turned your backs on me. Now fortunes have reversed.

  Ruth had become a door to these people. A door for them to pass through into the same world of success. But what sort of door? Revenge sometimes comes in the shape of a trapdoor.

  Will this person ever be satisfied, Cecelia reflected? Remember, be careful what you wish for.

  She had nearly forgotten about Peter when arriving at the bed-and-breakfast. Late coming back because she had been needed by Ruth. Ruth had suddenly made her, her best friend, and as an honor, she had given Cecelia her phone number and made Cecelia promise that she would telephone her tomorrow. This woman completely overwhelmed her life like a vacuum cleaner, Ruth was sucking every energy out of her, and she didn’t want to share Cecelia with anyone else, especially with Cecelia herself.

  It was gone seven o’clock when Ruth arrived at the inn. Peter was sitting in the corner for Cecelia to make an appearance. He had had a frustrating day.

  ‘Where’ve you been? I’ve been worried about you,’ he stood when she came through the door. ‘It’s your uncle isn’t it?’ he was watching her face for any details of a demise.

  ‘It was a close one,’ she managed to smile still blinking with surprise to find him waiting there for her. ‘But he’s survived the worse, and now I’m beginning to wonder if he might actually live.’

  Peter smiled and reckoned with his thoughts.