Ora's Gold

by Charlotte Young

  Whenever he wakes it takes me a while to get him attached properly for a feed—I’m shocked by how much it hurts when we get it wrong. Toe-curling pain shoots through me as my poor nipple is clamped and pulled by his tiny mouth. It’s such a relief when we get it right—for both of us.

  My stomach is a spongy mass of skin—what was once stretched taut around my baby now lies in sagging rolls. But none of that matters, not when I look at Gumnut.

  By the time first light comes I’m ready to get up. I need to see the horizon. I start to move gingerly out of bed but Jake stirs, so I snuggle back down and we get lost in time together, gazing at this new being between us, drinking him in.

  Jake tells me I’m a birthing goddess and I laugh, remembering the rush of power I felt after Gumnut arrived. Josh. Josh Holly.

  *

  It takes me a while to get up on deck with Gumnut. Walking feels tender but sitting down is worse. Jake is right behind me as I go up the cabin steps. Dione and Keith are sitting, not talking. A sting of repulsion hits me when I see him. He is crumpled and haggard in his suit trousers and shirt, looking like he’s had a cold night.

  ‘Good morning,’ Dione says gently. ‘How did you sleep?’

  ‘Not much,’ I reply with a happy smile, hugging Gumnut closer.

  I nod briefly at Keith, feeling self-conscious.

  ‘Ora … and Jake—I am so sorry.’

  Nothing like getting straight to the point.

  ‘I owe you a huge apology. I just couldn’t help myself. I tried rowing away but I heard you and knew you were giving birth.’ He pauses, eyes boring into me. ‘I … can’t keep my nose out of other people’s business. It was wrong.’

  I’m not going to say it’s okay.

  ‘You were making these incredible sounds. I’d never heard anything like it. Like some kind of big cat or wild animal, and I just couldn’t not look.’ He’s talking fast. ‘I tried, I really did. But by God! It was amazing. To witness. I mean.’

  He’s still staring at me intently.

  ‘It felt almost holy! But it was so normal, too.’

  His gaze now flits between me, Jake and Dione. There is silence, apart from the waves knocking against the boat, rocking us gently.

  Jake is standing beside me with his hands crossed over his chest, totally on edge.

  Now Keith pleads. ‘I am sorry, Ora.’

  The silence becomes unbearable.

  ‘What were you thinking?’ I ask. ‘Looking is one thing, but filming?’

  ‘I don’t know. But recording is what I do. It’s terrible, I know. But now … it’s done … It … Something like this could reach thousands, Ora.’ He looks searchingly into my face. ‘It’ll show them what birth can be like. Things have to change or people will forget—maybe they have already—but it’s too important not to try! This could go viral before it gets taken down like all the other birth footage. You’ve got to let me use it. It’s exactly what we need.’

  ‘You’re insane!’ Jake looks at Keith in disbelief. ‘You had no right. No right! That was private and you want to make it public? We’re on the run, for God’s sake.’ His hands are balled into fists.

  ‘Whoa!’ Keith waves his arms in defence. ‘Let me explain. I’ve got a plan.’ I can see him making himself smaller, like an underdog with an alpha male. He’ll need to talk fast to avoid getting punched in the face.

  ‘I’m on your side. I want to change this … it’s out of control. Everyone’s forgotten what normal birth is like.’ He looks at me admiringly when he says this. ‘Babies are meant to come out like that. Full stop.’

  He’s got Jake’s grudging attention now. ‘Birth isn’t meant to happen in factories for the future programs. I know it’s wrong and I want to stop it. That’s the big picture.’

  Jake is unclenching his fists. I breathe more easily.

  ‘Little picture, there’s you guys. Whether you like it or not, you’re birth activists.’ He looks at Dione. ‘You’ve always been one. And you’ve just become one,’ he says, startling me out of my baby bliss. ‘If you don’t stand up and fight, who will?’

  Dione is smiling at him! This guy is good. He’s even got me wondering, in spite of my anger.

  ‘I admit—in the beginning I was just after the story. But last night … Witnessing the birth … I’m totally in … completely.’ He shrugs, looking surprised at himself.

  None of us knows what to say. Maybe he has just become enlightened.

  ‘I’ve been awake all night,’ he says finally, straightening up. ‘And I’ve got a plan.’ He looks pleased with himself and I can see the familiar Keith Waterhouse returning.

  Jake rolls his eyes but says nothing. We don’t have anything to lose.

  Keith carries on with his rapid-fire talk.

  ‘I want to write this story. And I want to show the birth footage. But first we have to make sure you guys are safe.’ He looks up. Dione and I nod to show we’re listening.

  ‘Someone owes me a favour. A big one. And the guy in question happens to have a converted warehouse in Melbourne. If you sail down there, I could transport you and hide you in it. It’s very liveable. You could stay there indefinitely, until this blows over.’

  Jake looks doubtful. ‘We don’t want anyone to know where we are,’ he says.

  ‘No-one needs to.’ He pauses to think. ‘He’s offered it to me before. I could tell him I’m renovating my place. I could supply you with everything you ne—’

  ‘What kind of favour?’ Jake interrupts.

  ‘Two years ago I uncovered a fraud—company theft. Great story. The owner of the company couldn’t thank me enough. He keeps offering me his place.’ Keith looks pleased with himself. ‘Treats me like a son … Nice fella. We play squash together.’

  ‘And he’ll lend you the place, just like that?’ Dione looks dubious.

  ‘Yep. Definitely.’

  ‘What about water?’ Dione asks. ‘I can’t see four of us surviving on your ration, Keith.’

  ‘We’ll find a way,’ Keith says. ‘The hardest thing is going to be getting rid of the boat.’ He explains the rest of his plan. It’s complicated. It’s dodgy. It means we have to trust him.

  And it might just work.

  They spend ages talking through the possible downfalls. Halfway through, I go and lie down with Gumnut. When will this ever stop?

  I come back up feeling fragile. Uncertain. It’s all moving too fast again. Yesterday, my baby was still inside me.

  Keith has finally convinced Dione and Jake he can help us.

  Jake looks at me and Gumnut before going down to the cabin to get Keith’s mobile. He holds it out to him. I don’t know what to say. This doesn’t feel right.

  There’s silence. The two of them look one another squarely in the face.

  A moment passes between them, then they shake on it, the phone in their hands; our fates contained between their palms.

  *

  As Keith leaves in his rowboat, Gumnut starts to cry. His wails unnerve me. I can’t comfort him. It’s the first time I haven’t been able to console him properly. A sense of foreboding creeps into my body; I don’t know whether it’s to do with Gumnut or with Keith’s departure.

  I make a mental list of all Keith’s promises and wonder if we’re completely nuts. What if he gets back to shore, goes to his office and publishes the story? What if he rings the SIF and tells them where we are? What if Gumnut’s birth is all over the news tonight?

  I have to remind myself that things are looking good so far. Keith rang the guy with the warehouse before he left and has arranged it already. It’s all set for nine days’ time. We just have to get to Melbourne.

  But will he be able to keep from breaking the story until we’re safely in the warehouse? I’m not so sure. The thought of going back scares me. It’d make a better story if the SIF caught us first …

  When I’m not worrying, I’m feeding Gumnut or changing his nappy or gazing at him for hours. Or trying to sleep. I had no idea h
ow exhausting babies are.

  *

  A massive storm hits us three days later. I think we are going to die. I struggle to hold onto the boat and to Gumnut at the same time. Finally, Dione and I manage to attach him to me with a homemade sling she makes out of a torn-up sheet. My hands are now free to grab on for dear life.

  Gumnut screams his head off. Jake is up on deck, harnessed to the boat, making sure we stay upright. Dione is down with me, frantically trying to stow everything away. We are battered relentlessly. It feels like we’re going to capsize. The worst is when we’re airborne, and then the inevitable crash that follows as we smash back into the sea. I begin to pray.

  Maybe this is what my foreboding was about. I make so many promises. The roar of the storm is my witness and my torturer, hearing my pleas and howling in my ears that this is the end.

  39

  Plan B

  The next day the sea is completely calm. All we can do is sleep and rest our tender, bruised bodies. Nobody feels like talking. Gumnut is unsettled and I comfort him, wondering how many more storms lie ahead of us.

  The next few days slip by uneventfully. It feels strange going back on ourselves, but at least for once we’re going somewhere, rather than just staying hidden. Suddenly it hits me. Once we’re at the warehouse, we’ll always have to stay hidden. For years! What were we thinking? I can’t live like that. None of us can! I rush down the cabin steps, startling Gumnut, who was asleep in my arms.

  ‘Can you stop packing up?’ Jake and Dione have been busy sorting through what we’re going to take ashore. The boat is anchored and it’s almost lunchtime.

  ‘I don’t want to go to Melbourne!’

  ‘Wha—’ Jake starts to talk, but I interrupt him.

  'It doesn't feel right. The closer we get, the more I feel it. Physically. In my chest and in my gut. I want to trust Keith, but I don’t.’

  ‘Ora—’

  ‘Dione, can you just listen? Have either of you thought about the life we’re going back to? Even if it all works and we get to the warehouse, change our identities … we’ll still be living like caged mice, with Keith as our keeper. Until he’s onto the next story. The SIF will want us more than ever. We have too much to lose.’

  ‘There’s still time to stop Keith from running the story,’ Jake says.

  ‘He’ll use it anyway,’ Dione says bleakly. She sighs. ‘As much as I want things to change … I wish he’d never found us.’

  ‘Why didn’t I just toss his phone overboard when I had the chance?’

  ‘He’s still got our story, Jake,’ I say. ‘We became his pawns the moment he found us. We should have tossed him overboard.’

  Dione smiles.

  I can feel the heat of certainty rising up through my body. ‘I am so over being someone else’s pawn. Even my blood belongs to the government. My baby will too, if we go back. And now my birth story belongs to Keith. We’ll belong to Keith if we’re not careful. Maybe he will protect us like he promises, but I don’t want to live like that.’ I look at Jake, then at Dione. She will be the hardest to convince.

  ‘I want to go to New Zealand … We just survived a massive storm.’ I am pleading now. ‘Jake, I know you can do this.’

  He is quiet, thinking. Weighing up our chances.

  ‘I’d have to go ashore to get more fuel.’

  He’s putting on his VHF headphones.

  Please let the weather report be good.

  ‘Dione?’

  ‘This boat isn’t made for the deep, Ora. Do you know how much bigger the waves are out there?’ She’s shaking her head. ‘It’s too dangerous.’

  ‘Having a baby on a boat is dangerous. Being an undercover midwife is dangerous! Growing your own veggies is dangerous!’

  ‘But what if we all drown?’

  ‘I have a gut feeling about this Dione …’

  She smiles at me, catching the echo of her own words from a few weeks ago.

  ‘But what about your dad, Ora? He’d never forgive me if something happens.’

  ‘You’d be dead, so it wouldn’t matter! And besides, he still has to forgive you for all the other stuff first.’

  ‘That’s not funny. I don’t know—’

  ‘I’ll write to Dad. I’ll explain. Jake can send the letter when he goes to get more fuel. Dad might even join us when we’re there. You could practise as a midwife again, without having to hide. Think of all the women you’ll help.’

  ‘The weather report is good,’ Jake is grinning. ‘If we leave today. But that crossing is one of the worst in the world. The winds are unpredictable. They change all the time and can get up to 40 or 50 knots. If a real storm hit, we’d just have to close the hatch and pray. I couldn’t sail us through it. It’s madness.’

  ‘But it’s not always stormy … what about luck?’

  ‘How long will it take?’ Dione asks. Is she considering it?

  ‘Up to three weeks max, a lot less if the wind is right. I don’t know how far the fuel will take us when the wind’s down, but once it runs out we’ll still have the sails.’

  ‘Think of the alternative, Dione. Hiding out for years, wondering when the SIF are going to catch us? Or worse, being caught and locked up?’

  ‘When you put it like that …’ she says.

  ‘It’s a no-brainer.’ Jake is grinning. ‘But there’s no way we’d survive a big storm.’

  ‘But there might not be a big storm.’

  ‘The ocean is much more unpredictable than birth, Ora.’

  ‘I know! And I know there’s so much to lose. But I want to take the chance.’

  She’s shaking her head.

  ‘Please, Dione!’

  Silence.

  ‘I must be mad.’ She is still shaking her head, but it’s in disbelief, not disagreement.

  I jump up and hug them both, nearly squishing Gumnut in the process.

  ‘I’ll steer us into shore,’ Jakes goes up the steps. ‘There’s an on-water refuelling station not far from here—there’s no way I’ll be able to carry all the fuel we’re going to need. Dione, you’ll have to go and get food supplies when we dock.’

  ‘I’d better go write that letter!’ I can’t believe it.

  A new, cold fear unfurls inside me—we are insane—but I push it away. Gumnut is fast asleep again, wrapped up in his little bundle of swaddling. I put him down on top of our bed and move in beside him.

  It takes me so many goes. When Jake calls down to say we’re ten minutes away, I have to scribble my final attempt. I put the letter in an envelope and seal it. Then I put that inside another envelope, along with a note to Dad’s neighbour, asking her to pass it on to him. I don’t explain why. She must know I’m missing. It’s a big risk, but she’s an older lady who hated the SIF so if she suspects anything, I don’t think she’ll tell them—she was always fond of Dad.

  We motor into the filling station. I stay below deck with Gumnut. Dione disappears, wearing her big sun hat and sunnies, promising to post the letter. Please be safe, I whisper under my breath as she goes. Jake, also wearing his hat and sunnies, fills all the tanks. We have extras under the cockpit benches. He comes down and grabs one of the 50L water containers, saying he’s going to fill that with fuel too. We can always make drinking water along the way.

  I listen to Jake readying the boat on deck and wait for Dione to return. More tension. More wailing from Gumnut. How does he know when I’m stressed? He feels it more than me. I keep putting him on the boob, which is probably giving him a belly ache, but I need him to keep quiet.

  Finally Dione returns, laden with bags. As soon as she’s stepped on board, Jake fires up the motor and we’re off!

  Dione comes down with all the food and starts unpacking. She looks the most worried I’ve ever seen her. I get up to give her a hug.

  ‘In two to three weeks we’ll be free, Dione. I know it feels mad but we’re going to make it, I’m sure of it.’

  ‘Oh, I hope so, Ora. I just keep thinking about your dad.
And your mum. And Holly.’

  I put my hand over her heart. ‘They’re here. Always.’

  ‘I know that, but I still feel like I’m leaving them. And if something happens … your dad …’

  ‘You can’t think like that, Dione. Right here, right now, we’re heading out on the calm sea and as soon as we get to New Zealand, we’ll find a way to let Dad know where we are. And contact Lucy! I’m so excited about seeing her again. She doesn’t even know about Gumnut.’

  ‘Lucy! When was the last time you spoke to her?’

  ‘Months ago. We kind of lost touch with all the SIF stuff … but she’ll understand when I explain.’

  ‘You sound so certain about it all, Ora,’ she says, managing to look happy and sad at the same time.

  ‘So much has happened, Dione. I just want to know what it’s like to live normally for once in my life.’

  ‘Well … in that case, stepping into the here and now.’ She goes to get something out of one of the bags. ‘And making sure we enjoy the moment while we can … look what I found in the shops.’

  ‘Champagne!’

  ‘We have to wet the baby’s head!’

  ‘Do you think it’s wise? The last time we drank champagne was—’

  ‘You can’t think like that, Ora. Right here, right now we’re heading out on the calm, blue—’

  ‘Okay, okay!’ I’m laughing. ‘You and Jake will have to drink it. But I’ll have a sip.’

  I grab some tumblers and we head up on deck.

  ‘Where’s Josh?’ he asks with one eye on the horizon.

  ‘Sleeping.’ I hand him a glass and kiss him.

  Dione pops the cork. ‘To Gumnut,’ she says, pouring out the bubbles.

  ‘To Gumnut,’ Jake and I repeat, clinking cups, grinning.

  ‘And to Ora,’ Jake kisses me. ‘The most amazing woman in the world. My love!’

  ‘To Ora,’ Dione says.

  ‘And to freedom!’ I say, raising my tumbler to the sky.

  ‘Freedom!’ we all shout, waving the cups above our heads.

  Right on cue, Gumnut’s distinctive cry reaches us.

  ‘Ha!’ I say. ‘How’s that for timing?’ They laugh.