Third Child

by Kate Mitchell

  Ruth sighed. ‘Then they will have their first sample of morphine.’

  15

  Not regretting what she had done for Ruth, Cecelia left her room thinking about what she had just done. It was now Sunday. The day Mr. Deer was most likely to take off for himself. This would be a good time to do what she knew she had to do. Here was her chance. While she had been in the room, her quick glance around had revealed that Mr. Deer had his own refrigerator with freezer.

  What was stored in it? Possibly the usual things one would find in a hospital, vaccines, medications, things which needed storing to preserve their life. So, apart from his own stash which he kept in the safe, what else was in this frozen tank? The only way she would find out was to look.

  It was just an idea, but one which fascinated and tempted her thoughts to suggest that this needed investigation. And as it was a Sunday, this was the day to check out her hunches and find out why that container had any business being in Mr. Deer’s office.

  A fertility clinic, a place where dreams are made, and nature cannot disappoint anymore for everyone should be allowed to have children. The genie has been released from its bottle, and the barren become fertile.

  Back along the corridors to Mr. Deer’s office Cecelia wondered how many children had been created here. How much laughter has echoed through this human intervention and then, how many had been destroyed? All the sons and daughters never to be known or suffer the pains of living are lying somewhere ingrained in the earth. Where do we begin and where do we end? Is it at the point of a whim?

  With the key, Cecelia gained entrance again and this time, she crossed to the cooler. No hesitation now, Cecelia had rehearsed this before. Inside the freezer was a drawer that slid out easily. Already she knew what she would find, a small frozen body the size of a child was waiting. A child who lay in eternal sleep, its broken body torn asunder had now been pushed back together again. The littlest Humpty Dumpty who could never be put back together again was here. His unwavering blue-eyed focus stared out at her, eyes which had receded a little into the skull. He was still waiting for that life, haunted by the promise.

  When this child was placed in the frozen casket, was it still alive? Taking her cell phone from her pocket, Cecelia took several photographs of the child, he was not so dissimilar from its born brothers. She took another photograph of the name tag clipped on to his tiny wrist before shutting the drawer on its sad staring eyes.

  If she was religious, she would have said prayers for this little child and had given it a name so that heaven could call for him. But now she had to forget about it or suffer what Angelina suffered, the regret and remorse and the injustice of life. A heart of ice is the only possession to get through living. The time had come when she must think of herself.

  Closing the door behind her quietly, with the beating of her heart riding in her ears she started walking. She had what she needed and was now getting away. Mr. Blaine had turned the corner and was now walking towards her, a frown curling his eyebrow.

  By not looking at him, it was as if she had never seen him, denying him the opportunity to speak. He had no power over her except if she gave it.

  Was this her turning her life over to begin again with fresh steps? Had she taken that step to shut that door on the past? It felt like she had climbed out of that repetitious circle. Such a feeling was refreshing. To have control of her life without any regrets or pain was something which had always been out of her reach. It made her feel wonderful, with desire she wanted to shout with happiness. There was nothing to fear anymore except fear itself.

  How the hours disappear when one is happy. It was not three-thirty in the afternoon and the forever sunshine city laid a gray finger on its folks. Cecelia did not feel cold as she usually did this time of year, but the sun was draining away fast. Perhaps it was time to go back to her lodgings. She grinned as if reminding herself that now contained within her cell phone, was the evidence.

  A new day to her life. She would walk so far before taking the Metro to air her thoughts on what she should do next and how she should write her piece for her newspaper.

  ‘Have you got something to say to me?’ Peter was waiting when she entered the bed-and-breakfast.

  It was a stunning accusation which caught Cecelia right in her tracks.

  ‘I don’t understand what you mean,’ Cecelia frowned worriedly.

  ‘I want to know how you feel about me. I got the impression you are cooling towards me. Is it because I was angry last night?’

  ‘Oh, that,’ the relief was tremendous she wanted to laugh, the coil of stress had kept her tight.

  ‘Do you find me a joke?’

  ‘No, no, it’s not anything like that,’ time for her to think fast. ‘It’s been very difficult with my uncle. He seems to be going rapidly.’ And then she thought of Angelina as her face misted, her disadvantaged corporeality came between Peter and herself. ‘I heard last week that one of my friends had died suddenly.’

  Something else new and novel which Peter had just found out about her.

  ‘You might have seen the report in the newspapers.’

  No, he didn’t know, he was waiting for her to carry on. His eyes focused on her face, waiting.

  ‘I spoke to her a couple of days before she died…’ Why was she telling him this? ‘I feel that it was my fault what happened to her.’

  His face looked relieved. ‘I understand, there must have been a great deal going on in your mind, your uncle and now your friend. I wish you had told me before. And there was me making demands on you all the time. Oh, Clara, you are such a wonderful person, I know we will be very happy together.’

  Now it was her turn to watch him, to look at his face and listen to his words and form that necessary opinion about him in the calm objective light of her mind. Hadn’t she realized from her first big mistake with Thomas that it’s fatal to judge by only appearances? Good men are dressed from the inside, and not from their exterior.

  While she liked to look at Peter, she didn’t know if she wanted to be with him or not. A strange dark feeling emanated from him which made her uncomfortable. It was something which she couldn’t explain or put her finger on, but there was a presence and she could feel it.

  ‘Peter,’ Cecelia pulled her lips in already regretting what she was going to say. ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t know if what we have between us is enough to sustain a special relationship to last us a lifetime. I think maybe we should end it here.’

  ‘And when did you decide that?’

  ‘Just now, although it has been running through my mind for a few days. We don’t know each other well enough to make a big commitment like marriage, a few days spent in the same boarding place is not enough.’ She smiled from the embarrassment; it was one of the hardest things she had had to do in her life. An unplayed hand will never tell you how this decision will pan-out in the future. He might turn out to be the most wonderful guy in the world, but for now, the voice in her mind was telling her no, it’s not safe. Having jumped that first hurdle, Cecelia was strangely relieved. ‘Just because you and I are lonely, this is no reason to start a life together.’

  ‘There is someone else, isn’t there?’ he was frowning, unable to comprehend what she meant and now he was becoming angry. The veins at the side of his brow were beginning to appear, raised by temper. How dare she make up her mind about them both?

  ‘No, there isn’t anyone else.’

  ‘You didn’t go to see your uncle today, did you?’ he spat out.

  ‘Why,’ she was curious now. ‘Where do you think I went?’

  ‘I saw you from my window. You went out early, and this time, you didn’t take the route you usually take.’

  She lowered her head, she was guilty and at last, he had found her out.

  ‘You’re right, I didn’t go to see my uncle. I told you a lie,’ she shrugged. ‘But it was necessary. I don’t have an uncle. My friend was in distress…’

  ‘Is this another of your l
ies?’

  ‘Which is why we wouldn’t be good for each other.’

  ‘Because of the lies? That’s your opinion.’ He was staring fiercely at her like a man who was suddenly reduced to a little boy. ‘Why did you lie to me? What was the purpose of that—I trusted you?’

  ‘I know, I’m sorry, but there are reasons for it which I can’t tell you about,’ she shrugged. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘No,’ he grasped hold of her shoulders. ‘You can’t do this to me. I’ve made plans for us both.’

  Pulling herself from out of his grasp, Cecelia now shaken, took a step back from him. ‘It’s better that you know now rather than later. I’m sorry Peter, I shouldn’t have played with you.’ He frightened her. This time, she had become Thomas to him, the breaker of hearts.

  ‘When did you decide that you didn’t want anything to do with me? I know you were attracted to me in the beginning, I could have put my life on it.’

  Yes, when had she decided? Did it start when she saw him at Angelina’s funeral? Perhaps that’s when the doubts crept in. And yet, he had already explained himself to her and why he was there? But now, he was waiting for her condemning answer. But he was losing her, she was already slipping through his fingers.

  ‘I know you care about me—I know it. What did I do to make you change your mind? If you want all my fortune, you can have it. The only thing I want now is you.’

  ‘Oh, Peter, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Please, please give me another chance and I will be better for you.’ Frantically he stopped to search his world, there wasn’t anything he could find to give her. He couldn’t understand that he wasn’t enough. ‘I know what it is, you’re angry at me for hoping your uncle died sooner.’

  ‘No, Peter, I told you I haven’t any uncle who’s dying.’

  ‘It’s because I got angry last night.’

  ‘No, Peter, stop this. It’s all over between us whatever there was. But it doesn’t mean that we still can’t be friends.’

  He was staring into her eyes trying to understand the thoughts which were going on in her head. Such a distressed face, he was suffering the worst emotions of rejection. And then he turned on his heel and walked away to take the stairs to his room.

  This had been so difficult for her, she could see more clearly than he could, and yet, she still felt sorry for him. It was just a silly little daydream and Peter must understand this. As time went by, he would find faults in her, it was inevitable. Staying in a place like this only showed the best of one’s self. He will get over it once a few days had passed, and then he will realize that this was for the best.

  16

  There was no reason for Cecelia to go into work tomorrow, she had everything she needed on her mobile’s camera. Nor was there any further need to stay at the bed-and-breakfast place. Her work was done, now she had to write the story about the death of a baby, the third child.

  With her plans now changed, she wasn’t going to tell Peter she was leaving, especially after yesterday evening when he didn’t come to dinner. His vanity had been bruised enough. Instead, she would write him a note and leave it in the reception before she left. No forwarding address or other contact details. It had to be snipped off now and permanently.

  Of course, it was mean of her, but nothing much had happened between them to call this a relationship. To everyone else, this would have been seen as nothing more than a casual friendship.

  Life now had given her a fresh start. She couldn’t afford to feel guilty, not one bit, every strength she had she needed for herself. In one way, it could be said that she was as bad as Ruth for the way she used people. You could say that, but perhaps in her case, it was different. With a story to tell like this, she needed to report it to the world.

  Another responsibility to face and a decision to make, she should telephone and give in her notice to the clinic. There would be people relying on her. But perhaps she wasn’t as responsible as she thought she was, or perhaps this was the greedy development of her new self.

  Passing through one resolution to another came fast, her mind had been cleared of all the ifs, buts, and doubts. A clear path now lay in front of her of what she should do, striving forward, making this world her home and putting her mark on it.

  The ideas that she had about Ruth to take her on as her personal assistant didn’t matter anymore. She didn’t need to rely on anyone’s help because now she was able to help herself. This was a more satisfying feeling knowing she could care for herself without being dependent on others as she always had.

  Going down to the dining room with the knowledge that this was going to be her last meal here was exciting as it was scary. In less than two weeks, she had completed her mission, and it had all been strangely easy, she had everything she wanted. Yes, luck had been on her side, but don’t forget, there was also her own ingenuity. In one way it felt strange to be leaving this place, but this time, she was leaving it as a success.

  So much had happened to her since that day not even a month ago when Angelina had approached her. This woman chose her to speak to. It didn’t seem credible that Angelina knew her story would be told by her. So much trust there, but she would honor it. She would do her best so that no one could terminate a life when it was just formed and viable.

  Poor Angelina, what must it have been like to feel the still living and warm baby in her arms which should have been in someone else’s? This experience must have altered her mind especially when he opened his eyes to her. It was easy now to understand that Angelina couldn’t cope with its death. She took her own life by falling in front of a bus. It must have been one of those insane decisions. Die now and you won’t have to face that image again.

  Mr. Deer took opiates to cope with it, while perhaps for others, their choice was to simply go mad. Everyone has their own strange place to go to when the mind becomes distorted and diseased, often it is to that parallel world called paranoia.

  Cecelia could smile at this now. She had fought her way through it and survived. This world was no different from what it always had been, dull and moving along slowly and yet, how different it looked to her now.

  Monday morning and Peter wasn’t at breakfast which was a relief. And yet, in the strangeness of perversity, she was thinking about going to his room to see if he was okay. Not a good idea she warned herself.

  The biggest surprise came with clarity of thought that he wasn’t her knight in shining armor who was racing to save her. He was just a sweet and good-looking man, who was also gentle and well-mannered. Just your everyday gentleman who sometimes lost his temper.

  She scratched her head. What was it that was different about him compared to everyone else? Because there was something different about him which she couldn’t quite connect with. It was there, staring at her straight in the face. Inside, he was empty. Empty of heart and love, poor man. But she wasn’t going to sacrifice her life for him, no, she wasn’t going to play that game anymore.

  She wished him well and hoped he would find the girl of his dreams, but sometimes, he made her feel uncomfortable for no reason at all. Perhaps this was more than enough. She smiled indulgently at his face which she had conjured up, thankful that he had found her attractive to want to spend his life with her. It was a compliment.

  How does anyone start a letter to say goodbye? No one gives you a lesson on this. The only words she found herself writing was to tell him that she was sorry, this made her feel extraordinarily guilty for some reason. She could see him with sadness now, a lonely stranger.

  But didn’t he realize that throwing all his money at her, someone he hardly knew wouldn’t make her care about him or love him? Money only buys companionship; it doesn’t buy love. It was just like her to contemplate a relationship when she was trying to change her life around to write this great story.

  In Peter’s own way, he was innocent about life as well, perhaps more than she. But this letter had to be written. As cruel as it may seem, it had to be done. And with black ink
ed letters on the white virgin paper, it felt like death was being served.

  When you want to break away from the person you once were, sometimes you need to jump, and this is what Cecelia felt herself trying to do. Make that leap into the unknown and take the next new identity which comes around.

  ‘Take care of yourself,’ Cecelia was adding to the note. ‘I know you will find the person you are looking for, I’m just sorry that it wasn’t me.’ Or rather, she didn’t pen this on to the letter, she was glad now that it wasn’t her.

  Sitting at breakfast, Cecelia ate all she was entitled to. Usually, it was either a slice of toast or alternately, a bowl of cereal. Today though her decision ran on the course that it would be better if she filled her stomach with a substantial cooked breakfast. The future wavered with uncertainty. And a full stomach would help. Except for some dry food in her little apartment, there was nothing much else to eat.

  With every person entering the dining room, Cecelia looked up, hoping for Peter to come in and join her. But no, he was still sulking. It was better this way.

  Bringing down her two large heavy suitcases and one small piece of hand luggage stuffed full of the extra new clothes. She was glad to put them down at the reception to pay her bill, her fingers were already stinging from the weight. This part was going to be the nightmare, seeing how much she owed, but it wasn’t as expensive as she anticipated, which was a nice surprise.

  Only now just as she was leaving did she find out what the landlord’s name was, Mr. Carter. Now she wouldn’t have supposed him to be called that. But then, she hadn’t supposed anything interesting about him at all. But he was kind, asking her if he should call her a cab, and if there was anything she wanted to leave for him to store so she could collect it later. Funny how things turn out. She didn’t think he liked or even approved of her.

  ‘It was good having you with us, Miss Tinder,’ he didn’t need to look at the registrar, he already knew her name which was very flattering. ‘We’ve all been worried about you.’