Chapter Twenty-three
‘Slow down! You’ll trip and break a leg in this bad weather.’
Harper didn’t reply, stop or slow down at her sister’s words; she barely even looked out for traffic as she hurried through the car park in her desperation to get to the car.
By the time Willow caught up with her, her hand was on the passenger door waiting for the car to be unlocked. Tears were coursing down her cheeks, their ferocity competing with that of the rain.
‘Do you want to go get a drink somewhere?’ Willow asked as they slumped into their seats.
‘No.’ Harper clicked her seatbelt in place. Although part of her craved a stiff drink, she couldn’t stand the thought of being in a public place where people could see her falling apart. ‘I just want to go home.’
‘Fair enough.’ Willow started the car.
‘Samuel was right. We shouldn’t have come. What was I thinking?’ She wished she could just crawl into bed and forget this day ever happened.
‘You were thinking with your heart. You were hurting and wanted to show you cared. Jasper’s family understood that. I think they appreciated you being there—and in time he will too.’
Harper shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. He’s right. If I hadn’t interfered in their lives, Claire would probably still be alive.’
‘I’m sorry but that’s bullshit. How could you possibly have known this was going to happen to Claire? It’s not because she was pregnant, it’s not because you gave her eggs, it’s because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Jasper’s hurting and in shock. He’s showing normal signs of grief—he needs someone to blame right now—but he’ll come round.’
‘I’m not sure he will.’ Harper sighed and swiped at her eyes, unsure if she was crying because of his reaction, because of her devastation and shock at Claire’s death or at the prospect of him never letting her see the baby.
The thought of never seeing the little girl upset her more than she’d imagined it would. When she’d first decided to be an egg donor, she hadn’t even wanted contact with the child, but as she’d come to know Claire and Jasper better, she’d started to look forward to being a small part of the baby’s life.
‘Maybe this is my punishment.’
She didn’t realise she’d said these words out loud until Willow said, ‘What on earth would you need punishing for? I think you’re in shock like Jasper.’
‘I had an abortion when I was nineteen.’
‘Holy shit.’ Willow took her eyes off the road and turned to look at Harper as if it were the first time she’d ever seen her.
‘Watch the road,’ Harper screamed as a car in front of them slammed on its brakes.
Willow snapped her head back to what was happening in front, reacted in time and then pulled off the road and stopped on the gravel shoulder.
‘Did I just hear you right?’ she asked, her eyes wide.
Harper nodded, knowing her sister wouldn’t be judgemental, but rather shocked and possibly hurt that she was only hearing about this sixteen years after it happened. ‘I’m sorry I never told you.’
Willow reached over and took hold of Harper’s hand. ‘Never mind about that. I’m not the important one in all of this. I just …’ She shook her head. ‘How did you manage to keep this from me? Why did you?’
Harper swallowed, not sure where to start. ‘I got pregnant in my second year of university.’
‘Was it a one-night stand? I didn’t even know you had a boyfriend then.’
‘He wasn’t really a boyfriend, more a cute guy I liked sleeping with. He was the same age as I was and neither of us wanted a committed relationship. We were both focused on our studies and …’
Willow nodded. ‘So you guys decided you weren’t ready for parenthood and chose not to have it.’
‘I decided,’ Harper said. ‘I was terrified that he might tell me he wanted us to get married and raise the baby together or something ridiculous like that. His family were devout Christians, but I just knew I couldn’t be a mother. Look at the example we had. I didn’t want to stuff up a child in the way Laura stuffed us up. I couldn’t believe I’d been so stupid, so irresponsible, to get pregnant in the first place, and the relief I felt afterwards only confirmed my feeling that I’d made the right decision. I wasn’t sad at all. I was just so grateful that this option was available to me so easily. What kind of person does that make me?’
‘You were practically a child. It makes you a human being who was terrified of something she shouldn’t have had to face alone.’
‘But I never even told him.’
‘You shouldn’t feel guilty—it was your body, your choice—but I wish you’d told me. I could have been there for you.’
‘I was the one who stuffed up,’ Harper said. ‘You’d just left for your big adventure in Antarctica and I knew if I confided in you, you’d be on the next plane back to look after me. You did enough of that when we were growing up. I was finally an adult and it was finally your chance to do your thing without worrying about me.’
But even as she said this, tears streamed down her cheeks. After all these years it felt cathartic to get it off her chest.
‘Oh, baby.’ Willow leant across the seat and dragged Harper into her arms. She stroked her hair in the comforting way she’d done as a child when Harper was sick, in the way their mother should have but never did.
‘You’re wrong, you know,’ she said after a few moments. ‘Our mother may have been a crap parent, but that doesn’t mean you would have been. I’m not saying you should have continued the pregnancy—you were so young and had so much potential ahead of you that I believe you made the right decision—but I think you would have made a great mother. You’re nothing like Laura, neither of us are, thank God. I know you were only a baby when Dad died so you can’t possibly remember him, but I do, and he was an awesome parent. Who’s to say you wouldn’t be like him?’
‘I couldn’t take the risk,’ Harper whispered, still clinging to her big sister. ‘I didn’t want to take the risk.’
‘Man, she really stuffed us up, didn’t she? She’s lucky she’s not in the country right now or I’d go round there and …’ Willow sighed angrily. ‘Does Samuel know?’
Harper shook her head. ‘No one does. You’re the first person I’ve ever told.’
‘What? Not even your doctor, or the counsellor you had to see recently?’
‘Nope. I didn’t see how it was any of their business.’
‘Oh my God, Harper.’ Willow pulled back and looked sadly into her sister’s face. ‘That’s a huge thing to bury inside you all these years.’
‘I just put the experience in a box and never opened it again,’ she said. ‘It’s not the kind of thing people talk about at dinner parties. Only once in a blue moon do I wonder how my life might have been today if I’d made a different decision.’
‘And when you wonder that, do you regret not having it?’
Harper shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I don’t think so. Deep down I’m sure I made the right decision—at nineteen I had no money, no stable home, no job. I couldn’t have given the child a good life even if I’d had a better example of how to be a parent. But I guess I do feel a little guilty every now and then. What right did I have to make that decision? Maybe my boyfriend would have wanted the baby? Maybe that baby would have been the person to discover the cure for cancer?’
‘It wasn’t a baby,’ Willow said forcefully. ‘You aborted a collection of cells. The what-if game is never a smart one.’
Harper didn’t reply—of course she was pro-choice but when she saw people like Jasper and Claire talk about how desperately they wanted a baby to love, she couldn’t help wondering if she could have made a different decision. Like adoption.
At the thought of Jasper and Claire, the tears that had been starting to ease flooded out again.
Willow squeezed her hand. ‘What happened to the guy?’
‘I don’t know,’ Harper said. ‘I st
opped seeing him after that, and until Samuel I avoided any serious relationships.’
‘I see.’ Willow nodded. ‘Do you think your abortion had anything to do with you deciding to donate your eggs? Perhaps subconsciously you did what you did as some kind of absolution? Not that I think you needed any such thing, but …’ Her voice drifted off.
‘I don’t know. Until today I hadn’t really let myself analyse my motivations, but … maybe.’ She sighed, suddenly too exhausted for this conversation. Whatever her reasons, everything was a big fat hot mess right now. ‘Look, do you mind if we don’t talk about this anymore? I just want to go home and sleep.’
‘Okay.’ Willow removed her hand from Harper’s and settled back into the driver’s seat. ‘But I’m here for you, you know that, right? Any time—even in the middle of the night—if you want to talk, you only need to call me and I’m there.’
‘I know. Thank you.’
They passed the remainder of the journey to Sydney in relative silence. At some stage Willow put the radio on low, but Harper didn’t listen to the music. Her mind was back in Newcastle with Jasper. Her whole body ached whenever she thought of the pain he must be in. She had never known a couple so obviously in love as they were; Jasper must feel as if he’d lost half of himself. Thank God he had a loving family. Thank God the baby did—her heart broke when she thought of Claire gone, but it was a tiny consolation to know that the child she’d so desperately wanted would be surrounded by so much love.
‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come in for a bit?’ Willow asked when she parked her car in front of Harper and Samuel’s house.
Harper looked up at the dark house. She guessed Samuel was still out with the partners. She swallowed the prick of guilt that she hadn’t gone with him—she couldn’t deal with any more regret right now.
‘No. I’ll be fine. Honestly. Thanks for being there for me today,’ she said. ‘It means a lot.’
‘I’m always here for you, Harps.’ As Harper put her hand on the door, Willow leant over and kissed her on the cheek. ‘You don’t have to go through everything alone.’
‘I know. But right now I’d like a little me time. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.’ Without another word she stepped out of the car. The rain had eased and now only a light drizzle fell as she hurried to the front door.
Inside, she flicked on the lamp and then peeled off her slightly damp coat. Not even the prospect of Friends or a whole box of Coco Pops would make her feel better right now, so although she hadn’t eaten anything since the Violet Crumble, she bypassed the kitchen and climbed the stairs.
The bedside lamp switched on the moment she opened the bedroom door and she stubbed her toe on the wall as she jumped back in surprise. She swore and rubbed at her foot.
‘You okay?’ Samuel asked.
‘I thought you’d still be at dinner.’ She bit down on the impulse to apologise for not being there. If he’d been more supportive earlier, perhaps she would have, but after today’s events she wasn’t feeling particularly charitable. She braced herself for a confrontation.
But it didn’t come. ‘I didn’t go,’ he said, pushing himself up to lean against the headboard. ‘I called Stanley and Rodger and gave them our apologies. I told them you’d had a family emergency and they understood. They said we can reschedule when you’re feeling better.’
‘Oh. Okay.’ She crossed the room to her dresser, starting to undress as she went.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, his tone genuine. ‘I wasn’t fair on the phone this afternoon. In fact, I was a complete and utter prick. I’ve just been really stressed about work lately and I know there’s no excuse for my behaviour, but … Anyway, I’m really sorry to hear about Claire.’
Harper looked into her dresser mirror and then squeezed her eyes shut again. She’d managed to stop crying somewhere between Newcastle and home but one kind word from her husband and the tears had come right back up to the surface.
‘Geez, babe, I’m so sorry.’ Samuel climbed out of bed and padded across the room to her. He put his hands on her shoulders, spun her round to look at him and then drew her into his arms. ‘I should have been there for you. I just didn’t realise these people meant that much.’
‘No, I’m sorry,’ she sobbed into his chest. ‘I should have been there for you. This was supposed to be your big night. You were right anyway. I shouldn’t have gone. It was so awful. Jasper didn’t want to see me. I’m not family, it’s just … this situation is so complicated.’
‘It is,’ he agreed, patting her gently on the back. And she was so grateful he didn’t say I told you so. He might not have been able to predict this exact disaster but he’d warned her when she’d first raised the idea of egg donation that there could be complications.
She certainly hadn’t bargained on making a new friend and then losing her just as quickly.
‘It’s just so unfair. Claire was such a wonderful person. She and Jasper went through so much to get their baby and they didn’t deserve this. I can’t believe she’s gone.’
‘No one deserves to die young, but sometimes shit happens. You did what you could for them, but you can’t fix this. You need to look after yourself now.’ He pulled back a little and looked down into her face—she couldn’t remember him ever seeing her cry like this before.
‘Have you had any dinner?’ he asked. ‘I can go downstairs and fix you something. Maybe pour you a glass of wine? Or would you like me to run you a bath?’
‘No. Thank you, but I just want to go to sleep.’ She felt so utterly exhausted and craved the oblivion sleep would bring.
‘Okay.’ He kissed her forehead and then let her go. ‘Come to bed then.’
She nodded, took off the rest of her day clothes, pulled on her PJs and then went into the ensuite to wash her face and brush her teeth. It felt wrong to be getting on with such mundane stuff when Claire could no longer do any of them, but she forced herself through her bedtime ritual and then climbed in beside Samuel.
He switched off the lamp again and then pulled her into his arms for a cuddle. Snuggling was so rare for them—in their busy lives they didn’t have time for such things—and she knew he was trying his best to comfort her, but even with his forgiveness and support, she couldn’t sleep.
Not two minutes after she closed her eyes, Samuel started snoring. Harper wriggled out of his embrace and lay on her back staring into the darkness. She thought of Claire and Jasper, of the motherless baby and of the conversation she’d finally had with Willow tonight. Although she knew her sister wouldn’t tell a soul—not even Miriam, unless she gave her permission—she wondered if it was finally time to tell her husband. Should she wake him up and come clean?
It seemed silly now she thought about it that they’d never had that conversation. It wasn’t like she’d thought he’d be angry or judgemental—although Samuel came from a strong Catholic family, he himself was an atheist and extremely progressive—but by the time they’d met, the abortion had been so deeply buried in her past that it had simply never come up.
But by not telling anyone, had she made it more significant than it was? Now that she’d finally spoken about it, emotions she didn’t know she’d even had were bubbling to the surface. Emotions she couldn’t quite decipher.
She rolled over and glanced at her sleeping husband—the outline of his body just visible in the moonlight through the curtains. Why hadn’t she ever told him? Weren’t husbands and wives supposed to tell each other everything? She bet Claire and Jasper hadn’t had such secrets.
Chapter Twenty-four
In the early hours of the morning, Jasper found himself sitting in the back of his parents’ four-wheel drive, listening to them talking about renting an apartment in Newcastle so he could be near the baby while it remained in hospital.
‘I’ll get onto it first thing in the morning. I’ll ask Sandie and Tom Roberts where they stayed when their baby was born prematurely,’ his mum said, talking about a local couple who’d had a son not t
oo long ago.
Claire had mentioned seeing Sandie and the baby in the post office last week and had spent ten minutes telling Jasper how cute the kid was. ‘We’re already planning play dates,’ she’d told him with an excited laugh.
‘Perhaps we can get Caroline and Noah to come home for a few months and help out.’ His dad’s suggestion jolted Jasper back to the present. Claire would not be arranging any play dates now.
‘Good idea,’ his mum replied. ‘Jasper will need to be in Newcastle for the foreseeable future and I think Joanne and I will probably take turns staying with him until Anaya is healthy enough to come home.’
They spoke as if they’d forgotten he was there, or as if he were a child that needed to be organised. How could they just sit there nattering on about logistics and the future when Claire would never have one? In fact, he realised, they hadn’t even mentioned Claire—it was all Anaya this and Anaya that, as if her existence made everything okay.
Part of him wanted to tell them to go to hell, to stop making all these plans for him when his life had just ended, but he didn’t have the energy to object. His head flopped against the cold glass of the back window and he closed his eyes, wanting to shut out their voices, wanting to simply disappear.
Instead he found himself reliving the nightmare all over again.
Waving goodbye to Claire that morning. The police coming to his house. Seeing her beautiful body all cold and lifeless. Being introduced to the baby and then having to take each of their parents in one at a time to ooh and ahh over it.
They’d all fallen instantly in love. His mum, his dad, Claire’s parents—all asking questions of the head nurse and the paediatrician who’d been there while the baby had been delivered by caesarean section. Jasper had tried to listen as they’d been fed information about the baby’s state of health, how long it would likely need to stay in the hospital and what its care plan involved, but he couldn’t remember any of it. He’d been glad when visiting hours were over and the nurse had ushered them out of the neonatal ward with an apology that they couldn’t stay any longer.
The Greatest Gift Page 22