Anna stood up and went over to him. She slipped her hand into his. ‘Joe, I’m still me. Anna. Your childhood neighbour, your best friend. We’ve known each other since we were kids. That’s over fifty years of friendship and love. Don’t shut me out, Joe. I need you.’
Joe kissed her lightly on the forehead. ‘I’ll always be here for you. I’m just having a little trouble taking in all this information. Give me time. I need to let it sink in and mull it over. I’m a doctor, a scientist, and we live by rules and regulations. I’ve seen many sad cases over the years of children not being properly cared for but I didn’t judge. I encouraged, I scolded, I advised, I helped, I followed up … but I never played God.’
Anna laid her head on his shoulder. ‘She was one too many, Joe. She was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I’d seen too much neglect, too much pain, too much suffering. I had to do something. I reacted instinctively. I have no regrets.’
Joe took her chin in his hand and lifted her face to his. ‘That still doesn’t make it right.’
Anna pulled away and went to the other side of the room. ‘I was a good mother, Joe. I loved her like no other.’
‘I know. I saw how devoted you were. But you’re not her mother. She wasn’t yours to raise. Your baby died.’
Anna swivelled around, her voice quivering with emotion as she said, ‘I deserved to be a mother. I knew I’d be good at it. Sophie has been my proudest achievement. When Hope died, I died too. I never thought I’d get over her death. I thought my life was over. My heart broke, Joe. It broke into a thousand pieces when I buried my baby.’ Anna gulped back the sobs. ‘No parent should have to bury a child. It’s too much pain. I lost everything when Hope died, everything. My marriage, my home, my life. I ran away to London because I knew if I stayed here I’d kill myself. I didn’t get on that boat meaning to take a child. I was a shadow, a dead woman walking. I was nothing, invisible, an empty shell. I never thought I’d feel anything again. I was numb. But when I saw that little girl being treated like dirt by her drunk of a mother, being shouted at and told to go away, I felt emotion for the first time in months. I felt anger, rage and fury. “No more,” I said. No more broken children. No more shattered little lives, no more crushed hopes, no more missed birthdays and Christmases, no more violence and abuse. No more. It’s not right, Joe. Children deserve to have a chance in life. They deserve to be loved. They deserve to have opportunities and kindness and food on the table and shoes on their feet and clean clothes and lice-free hair and baths and hope … They deserve hope. I do, too, and so did Sophie, and that was why I took her. If it happened again I’d do the same thing. I couldn’t leave her with a mother who was passed out drunk at the bar. I just couldn’t.’ Anna sank to the floor and wept.
Joe rushed over to her. He picked her up and led her over to the couch. He handed her a tissue and went to pour her a large brandy. He poured himself one too. He sat down beside her and handed her the drink. He rubbed her back while she sobbed and sipped, sobbed and sipped.
‘I understand why you wanted to do it, Anna, I really do,’ he said. ‘I saw the light go out inside you when Hope died. I know how much you wanted to be a mother. And you’re right: no parent should have to suffer such an unbearable loss. Life is complicated and some people get dealt much darker cards than others, children included. And as much as we want to change things, as much as we desire to improve their lives, to “save” them, it’s not up to us. If we all acted on our instincts and impulses, society would be lawless. But the important person here is Sophie. What matters most is her opinion. She’s the one you have to convince. She’s the one who needs the explanations. She’s the one who’s hurting the most.’
Anna blew her nose. ‘I know. I just hope she understands. She has to. If she turns her back on me, my life is over. I can’t lose two daughters, I just can’t.’
A couple of hours later, Anna was sitting on a bench, watching two little boys playing. There was a small green in Killduf village square with two benches on opposite sides. In the middle were two swings and a small slide with a sandpit to the right of it. The green was surrounded by shops and businesses: a butcher, a Spar, an Italian restaurant, a shop selling everything from fishing tackle to Barbie dolls, a Supermac burger joint and two pubs. It was an attractive place but the shop fronts looked a little tired. They were in need of a fresh coat of paint. An old man shuffled by, hauling his shopping bags up the road, and a young mother pushed a buggy across the green, talking animatedly into her mobile phone.
Despite the warm day, Anna was shivering. She pulled her cardigan around her shoulders. She was sick with nerves and welcomed the distraction of watching the small boys chasing each other. One came over and hid behind her. The other followed quickly in his wake.
‘Hello, are you having fun?’ Anna asked them.
The two boys stopped playing and eyed her.
‘My name’s Anna and I’m waiting for my little girl – well, she’s a big girl now – to come and meet me.’
The boys said nothing.
‘What are your names?’
The younger boy in a red T-shirt, who looked about four, shook his head, but the older one, in a yellow T-shirt, piped up, ‘Our mummy says we can’t talk to strangers. Even people who look normal. She says the baddest people sometimes look like mums and dads.’
‘Yeah,’ said the smaller boy, ‘and she said there are lots of bad guys in the world that want to take childrens away. They give you sweets to get you into their car and then they drive away super-fast, like a Batmobile. Whisssssh.’
‘And – and even if they give you a Curly Wurly, which is like my most favouritist thing ever, you can’t take it. Cos if you do, the bad guys will grab your hand and pull you into their van and your mummy and daddy will never see you again. Ever. You’ll be in like a prison kind of thing or maybe living in a forest with wolves.’ The boy in the yellow T-shirt made a wolf face to emphasize his point.
‘I hate wolves. They’re mean and scary.’ The younger brother’s eyes were wide with fear.
‘Your mummy is right. You do have to be careful of strangers,’ Anna agreed.
‘And even old persons like you can be bad guys. Because – because bad guys can put on disguises and masks,’ the older brother informed her.
‘Like in Scooby Doo,’ the little brother exclaimed.
‘Scooby Doo’s for babies,’ his brother scoffed. Then to Anna he said, ‘It’s actually like in Ben 10 when he can transform himself into other people that have super-powers and stuff. So, even though you look like a regular granny you could actually be an evil person in disguise.’
‘Well, that’s true, but I’m not. Look at my face.’ She pulled her cheek. ‘See? It really is my face, not a mask.’
‘Do you have any sweets?’ the little boy asked.
‘No, I’m afraid not, and even if I did, I wouldn’t give them to you because I’d have to ask your mummy’s permission first.’
‘She’s over there, in the shop.’ The older child pointed to the grocery. ‘She told us to be good and not talk to anyone we didn’t know. She said if anyone tried to talk to us or show us their willy or asked us to touch their willy or to show them our willies or asked us if they could touch our willies we haded to shout loud.’
‘That’s very good advice,’ Anna concurred. ‘Your mummy sounds like a very clever person.’
‘Your eyes are all red. Are you sad?’ the older boy asked.
‘Yes, I am a bit.’
‘Why? Did you hurt yourself?’ the little brother wondered.
‘No. I had a fight with my daughter and she’s very cross with me.’
‘Why is she cross?’ the little boy asked.
‘Because I lied.’
‘Oooooh.’ They were appalled. ‘Our mummy says lying is the worstest thing you can do.’
‘She’s right, but sometimes you do it to protect someone.’
‘What does “potect” mean?’ the smaller boy asked.
‘It means that sometimes you lie to make the other person happy.’
‘Like when Mummy asks Daddy if she has a fat tummy and he says no even when her tummy is really fat?’ The older boy was pleased with himself.
‘Exactly.’ Anna smiled.
‘Mummy says “fat” is a bad word, but it’s not, is it? It’s just a word. But she says it makes girls sad if you say it to them.’ The younger brother frowned. He seemed confused by this. ‘But she said “thin” is a good word and it makes girls happy when you say it.’
‘Girls are weird,’ the older boy huffed.
‘Are you going to say sorry for lying?’ the little boy enquired.
‘Yes, I am,’ Anna admitted, ‘and I’m going to explain why I lied. I’m going to tell her I was protecting her.’
‘Tell her she’s thin. That’ll make her happy, like my mummy,’ the older boy advised.
‘I lied once when Mummy asked me if I put her phone down the toilet and I said no.’ The little boy’s face went as red as his T-shirt as he recalled the incident.
‘Did she find out you were lying?’ Anna asked.
He nodded. ‘Yes, and she was so cross her head nearly spinned off. She said Santa mightn’t come, but he did.’
‘Oh, I’m glad. I’m sure you’re a good boy.’
‘I am most of the time and I’ll never lie again. No way.’
‘Are you going to lie again?’ The older boy was curious.
‘No.’
A shadow fell over them. ‘Looking to kidnap some more children, are you?’
They all looked up. Sophie was standing in front of them, arms folded, lips pursed.
Anna jumped up.
‘Did she say “kidnap”?’ the little boy squealed.
‘Yes, I did,’ Sophie said. ‘You boys better run back to your mummy before this lady takes you away. She steals little children from their mummies.’
The boys scurried over to the shop and their mother.
‘That was unnecessary,’ Anna said.
‘Really? I think not, under the circumstances. Who knows what you’re capable of?’
Anna could see the black shadows under Sophie’s eyes. Her daughter looked completely worn out. Anger and rage emanated from her every pore. She’d never seen Sophie like this. She was usually so even-tempered and positive. Anna knew she needed to tread very carefully or Sophie would bolt. She had to get her to sit down and listen. She dug deep and tried to remember all the tricks she’d learned in her years as a teacher and headmistress. She needed Sophie to stay and hear her side of the story.
‘Sophie, please sit down. I understand you’re confused but I can explain everything.’
Sophie sat on the other end of the bench, as far away from Anna as was physically possible. Anna took a deep breath and willed herself to stay in control of her emotions. ‘What has Laura told you?’
Sophie’s eyes flashed. ‘Let’s see. She told me that she was on a boat with her little daughter when someone abducted the child and she didn’t see her again for seventeen years. Everyone thought the little girl was dead. Her life was completely destroyed.’
Anna maintained eye contact with Sophie, which she knew was important. She kept her tone neutral. ‘Did she say anything else about the boat? About not looking after you?’
Sophie threw her hands into the air. ‘Oh, I get it. You’re going to blame Laura now. Well, unlike you, she was honest with me. She admitted that she got distracted for a minute, took her eye off me, and when she turned back I was gone.’
The lying wench! Anna needed to keep gently probing. ‘I see. Did she mention anything else?’
Sophie glared at her. ‘That her heart was broken and her life was ruined.’ Anna watched as her daughter’s shoulders began to shake. Sophie looked at her through tears. ‘How could you, Mum? How could you do this? I don’t understand. It’s such a horrible thing to do. It’s just awful! It’s – it’s psychotic. Why? Why would you do it?’
Anna rushed over to put her arms around Sophie and comfort her, but Sophie pushed her away with force. ‘Don’t touch me!’
Anna sat back down and looked into the distance. In as calm a voice as she could muster, she asked, ‘Did Laura mention that she had been drinking?’
Sophie’s head snapped up. ‘She’s a teetotaller!’
‘Really?’ Anna could feel the anger rising in her throat. Teetotaller! This woman was a compulsive liar. How dare she make herself out to be a pillar of society? How dare she pretend she didn’t drink? She was a manipulative cow. ‘A teetotaller? Well, she certainly didn’t look like one when I saw her that day in the bar, drinking double vodkas and flirting with the barman while you sat alone, crying because you were hungry and thirsty.’
‘What?’
Anna had her attention now. She was going to let her know the truth. ‘Oh, yes, Sophie. Laura the teetotaller proceeded to get so drunk that she passed out at the bar.’
Sophie crossed her arms defensively. ‘I don’t believe you.’
But Anna could see the seed of doubt in her daughter’s eyes. ‘Don’t you think it’s a bit strange that a caring, sober mother would lose her child on a boat? You might lose sight of your child for a minute but you’d always find them again. If you were passed out drunk, you might not.’
‘But –’
Anna interrupted her – she was going to give her every detail of that boat trip, even the awful things Laura had said, so she’d understand. She wanted Sophie to know she was telling the truth and that Laura was the psychotic one. ‘You were sitting in that bar, curled up in a corner by yourself, crying your eyes out. You kept asking Laura for a bottle, you called it a “baba”, but she started shouting at you and cursing at you. She told you to go away and leave her alone. You were sobbing your little heart out and Laura told the barman – I’ll never forget it – how her life would be so great if it wasn’t for you. When you came over again, looking for your bottle, she threatened to take your blanket away. You were terrified. I didn’t plan on going over, I was just minding my own business reading my book, but you looked so forlorn and she was so wretched to you that I couldn’t help myself. I went over and said I was going to get a sandwich in the coffee shop and I’d bring you to get some milk, if that was OK. She said, and I quote, “Fine, take her with you. You’re welcome to her.”’
Sophie’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I don’t believe you.’
Anna knew she was causing her precious daughter pain, but she was damned if she was going to let that drunk rewrite history. ‘It’s true, every single word of it. I took you to get some milk. You were so thirsty you drank it too quickly and then you were sick everywhere. We went back to the bar to find Laura and she was furious. I offered to take you to the bathroom to clean you up and change you. She threw your knapsack at me while she continued to drink. I cleaned you up, and when we got back to the bar, Laura was disgustingly drunk so I kept you outside. You could see her but you weren’t near her so she couldn’t verbally abuse you any more. I sang songs to you and played games with you, and when I looked up, Laura had lost consciousness. She was so drunk that she had keeled over with her head on the bar counter. That’s when I knew I had to save you. I knew if you stayed with her you’d be destroyed. She was an aggressive drunk. She was unfit to be anyone’s mother.’
Sophie had stopped crying and was watching Anna intently. ‘So you just took me?’
‘Yes. I had to. I had no choice.’
‘You kidnapped me! You can’t do that. You can’t just take other people’s children. You’re the one who always told me never to steal.’ Sophie’s face was bright red with rage. ‘She was my mother.’
‘She was out-of-her-mind drunk,’ Anna shouted back, not caring about the strange looks passers-by were giving them. She’d had enough. She was sick of Laura being made out to be the victim when in fact she was the guilty party. It was Laura’s shocking behaviour that had caused this whole sequence of events. ‘She couldn’t even look after herself, n
ot to mind a child. I’d seen mothers like her before in the school I taught in. Drunk and drugged-out mothers neglecting their children and ruining their lives. I just couldn’t let it happen again. I saved you, Sophie! Do you understand? I saved your life. If I hadn’t taken you, some paedophile could have or you could have drowned. Your so-called mother was in an alcohol-induced coma. You might as well have been alone on that boat because you had no one to look after you.’
‘Maybe Laura was drunk that day but it must have been just a bad day because she’s a great person and a really good mother. She has another daughter, Mandy, and she’s been a brilliant mother to her. You were wrong! You judged her on one moment.’
‘She was shouting and cursing at you. You were starving and thirsty. She said she didn’t want you. She handed you over to me, a stranger. She pushed you into my arms. She didn’t want to have anything to do with you. You’re lucky it was me there that day and not some creep.’
Sophie slapped her forehead with her hand in sheer frustration. ‘What you did was not normal. You abducted someone else’s child. How can you not see that it was wrong? You of all people. Ms Law-abiding Citizen, Ms Headmistress, telling everyone else how to behave properly when you did the worst thing of all.’
Anna clenched her fists and forced herself to cool down. She pushed Sophie’s accusations from her mind. She had been right to take her. It had been illegal and impulsive but she had had no choice: she had had to save Sophie’s life. In a quiet, calm tone, she said, ‘I honestly don’t think you’d be alive now if I hadn’t been there that day. I have devoted my life to your happiness. Whatever accusations you want to sling at me, you know that you have been loved unconditionally. You have been adored, cherished, treasured and protected by me, every day of your life. Nothing else matters to me but you. You are everything to me, you know that, Sophie. You’re my world.’ Tears streamed down Anna’s cheeks.
Sophie buried her face in her hands and began to howl.
Anna’s ulcer seared in her abdomen and she clutched the back of the bench. The pain was horrendous. She was devastated to see Sophie so upset. Her baby girl was suffering so much, it was killing her. She reached over and gently stroked her back. Sophie didn’t turn away. Anna put her arms tentatively around her daughter’s shoulders and leaned in to hug her. Sophie allowed her to comfort her. Anna was so relieved. She held her tightly, wishing all her pain away.
This Child of Mine Page 27