The Baby Snatchers

by Chris Taylor

  “What’s for breakfast, Cam?”

  He dragged his gaze away from Georgie and focused on his sister. “I bought fresh pastries from the bakery and there’s orange juice in the fridge. Help yourself.” He moved the plate closer to the women.

  Georgie took notice of the assortment on offer and smiled. “Almond croissants! My favorite! Boy, if I’d known about this, I would have saved my cereal for another day.”

  Cynthia screwed up her face. “Cereal! Yuck!”

  “Two Weet-Bix, yoghurt, milk and a few strawberries. It gets me going every day.”

  Cynthia rolled her eyes, but a smile teased at her lips. “Sounds like a TV commercial.”

  Cam smiled at Georgie. “Sounds delicious!”

  “Yes, but not as delicious as this!” Georgie reached over and selected an almond croissant. Taking a bite, she sighed in delight. “Mm, this is heaven!”

  Over pastries and coffee, the three of them spent the next few minutes in idle chitchat. Too soon, Georgie glanced at her watch and pushed away from the counter.

  “We need to get moving, Cynthia. Are you just about done?”

  His sister nodded and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I just need to brush my teeth,” she said quickly and headed down the corridor toward the bathroom.

  Cam turned to Georgie. A dusting of icing sugar was caught on the tip of her nose. He came toward her and his heart started a slow and steady thump. She stared at him, her eyes wide with anticipation. He stopped less than a foot away and reached out and wiped the white powder off her nose. For an instant, her eyes flared with desire before she quickly looked away.

  “You had icing sugar on your nose,” he managed, his voice husky with need.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, her gaze still focused at her feet.

  “No, thank you.”

  She looked up and his gut somersaulted once again. Her dark liquid eyes seemed to peer right into his soul. “For what?”

  “For this. For Cynthia. I’ve never seen her so engaged. She’s almost like a normal teenager, complaining about the food. I can’t thank you enough for doing that, for bringing her back.”

  Georgie shrugged and looked away. A becoming blush stole across her cheeks. “It’s nothing.”

  Cam took hold of her chin with his fingers and tilted up her head. “It’s everything.”

  Georgie smiled. “Let’s see how you feel after the day is over. You might end up paying for regular trips to the day spa. I might unleash a monster.”

  He chuckled. “It would be worth every cent.”

  Georgie’s expression turned serious and she slowly shook her head. “You really are the nicest person I know.”

  His heart filled with warmth. “Right back at you.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Dear Diary,

  It saddens me to know she’s taken our actions hard. I’m told she’s scared and confused and has begun to question her own ability. I wish I could ease her suffering, but I must sacrifice her peace of mind for the greater good.

  From the moment I started down this path, I knew I’d found my destiny. Matron knew me better than I knew myself. Once my eyes were opened to the truth, she knew I would see this was by far the best way to go. So many years, so many babies; so many lives I’ve touched—and all for the better. Of this, I am certain.

  * * *

  Georgie glanced across at Cynthia where she lay face down on a table identical to the one Georgie lay on. They each had a massage therapist working over them, kneading the knots out of their shoulders. It felt like heaven and from the soft groans of appreciation coming from Cynthia’s direction, it appeared she was feeling the same.

  Earlier, they’d enjoyed manicures and pedicures. Cynthia had exclaimed over the range of bright colors. She’d chosen a hot pink with a glittery sparkle in the polish. Georgie had gone for straight crimson. With their facials yet to come, it would be lunchtime before they finished.

  She hadn’t asked Cameron what he was up to, but she assumed he was heading to work. He was dressed in a suit and tie, similar to the one he’d worn the first day they’d met. The charcoal suit fabric and pale blue shirt contrasted nicely against his dark hair and olive skin and she couldn’t help but notice the way the clothing enhanced his physical appeal. There was no doubt about it: He wore a suit well.

  “Mm, that feels sooo good,” Cynthia murmured.

  Georgie turned her head in the girl’s direction. “You like it?”

  Cynthia lifted her head and grinned. “I’ve never felt anything so fantastic! Thank you so much for bringing me, Georgie.”

  Georgie smiled and lay her head back down on the cushion. It made her feel good to know she’d helped distract Cynthia from the tragedy that had befallen her and her baby, even for a little while. Georgie’s thoughts shifted to Sandra and Wes and her pleasure dissipated. Somewhere in the city was another young mother making preparations to bury her child. It was heartbreaking to have knowledge of it, let alone have had intimate dealings with the devastated couple.

  Even now, Georgie couldn’t understand how it had happened. The results from the standard newborn tests were all within normal limits and the baby’s withdrawal symptoms had appeared negligible. Sandra’s baby wasn’t one Georgie had identified as being at high risk of severe withdrawals and yet, Marjorie had indicated that, failing any other explanation and even though they couldn’t prove it, this was the likely reason for his death. Yet again, the official cause of death would be listed as SIDS.

  The fact that three babies in Georgie’s care had died shortly after birth in such a short space of time was very troubling. She’d worked as a midwife for two years. Over that time, as far as she knew, infant deaths were few and far between. In fact, until recently, every one of those babies had died in utero and the parents of the child and the staff were aware of it beforehand.

  The mother still had to endure labor and the whole procedure was permeated with sadness and pain. Knowing from the outset the baby was deceased made it beyond difficult for everyone to see through to the end. As desperate as Georgie was for a baby she could raise as her own, she could only hope and pray she never had to experience the tragedy of a labor where the baby was stillborn.

  But what had happened lately was different. Every time one of the babies died, she’d wracked her brain, trying to work out where she’d gone wrong. The deliveries had all been uneventful. The babies had tested fine. And yet, twelve or so hours later, they were dead. She was missing something in her understanding, something crucial, and she didn’t have a clue what it was. The knowledge was eating away at her.

  After each death, her mom assured her it wasn’t anything to do with her. Even her Aunt Rosemary had weighed in with her support. The baby had died and nobody was really sure why. Sometimes it happened. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. There was nothing anyone could do. Though Georgie wanted to believe their reassurances, in the dark of night, the fear that Georgie had overlooked something important during the birth or even shortly afterwards wouldn’t be denied.

  It had gotten to the point now, where she was losing confidence in her midwifery skills. She’d worked as a pediatric nurse for five years with only a couple of fatalities. She’d been a midwife less than half that time and in the last three weeks, three babies she’d delivered had died. The fact that she hadn’t been on the shift when it had happened didn’t count. Somehow, somewhere, she’d failed to recognize a problem and it had cost three babies their lives.

  “What’s the matter, Georgie? You look sad.”

  Cynthia’s quiet comment penetrated Georgie’s depressing thoughts. With an effort, she forced a smile on her face and wished it didn’t feel so much like a grimace. “Nothing. I’m fine. How’s your massage?”

  Cynthia grinned, her expression filled with contentment. “Beyond wonderful. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so relaxed.”

  “I’m glad and you deserve it. That’s the reason for coming to a place like this. I used to come qui
te a bit, but lately it’s hard to find the time.”

  “It should be compulsory for everyone to experience a day spa once in their life! If I could afford it, I’d come every week!” She grinned with such genuine pleasure, once again Georgie was warmed all the way through.

  The spa treatments hadn’t come cheap, but as far as she was concerned, they were worth every cent. Before she’d left his condo, Cameron had handed her two, hundred-dollar bills, but she’d refused to accept them. She didn’t expect Cameron to understand, but this was her treat; her way of apologizing to her patient. It could never make up for the loss of a baby, but it was something.

  Afterwards, Georgie took Cynthia to lunch at a restaurant on the boardwalk at Circular Quay. The early winter sun was warm on their faces as they watched the seagulls gathered on the wharf. Cynthia ordered fish and chips and a Diet Coke. Georgie ordered a chicken Caesar salad and a latté. While they waited for their food to arrive, Georgie took a moment to study the girl who sat opposite her.

  The dark shadows and haunted look had all but disappeared from Cynthia’s eyes and though a faint air of sadness still surrounded her, the pleasure she’d enjoyed that morning seemed to have worked some magic. A spark had returned that had been missing since the death of her little Josephine. Cameron would be relieved.

  “How are you coping, living with your brother?” she teased. “I hope he isn’t too tough on you. Big brothers are renowned for it!”

  A smile played around Cynthia’s lips. “Cam’s been fantastic. I couldn’t ask for a better brother.” Her smile faded and she eyed Georgie solemnly. “I… I don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t offered to let me stay. Thank you for finding him.”

  “No thanks are necessary, honey. I could tell you needed some support. Having a baby, especially so young, is tough. I made enquires about your brother’s whereabouts even before I knew about…about Josephine’s death.”

  A shadow passed over Cynthia’s face and Georgie bit her tongue. Was it too early to talk to the girl about her loss? Georgie was an experienced nurse and over the years had counseled many patients, but she wasn’t a qualified therapist. Perhaps she’d said too much.

  “She was so tiny and so beautiful,” Cynthia whispered.

  Georgie breathed out a quiet sigh of relief. “Yes, she was.” Reaching across the table, Georgie took Cynthia’s hand. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Ava—she’s my psychiatrist—keeps telling me to open up. She says the more I talk about Josephine and accept what happened to her, the sooner I’ll find closure. Until then, it’s like a constant ache, never going away. But sometimes I’m afraid of closure… That I’ll forget her.” Tears filled the young girl’s eyes.

  Georgie’s heart stuttered. She tightened her hold on Cynthia’s hand and cast around for the right words to ease the teenager’s pain. “You’ll never forget her, I promise. And Ava’s right, honey. Remember Josephine how she was. Celebrate her short life. Remember how much you loved her. It’s impossible to understand what happened and nobody has the answer. It was just one of those things.”

  “But why my baby?” Cynthia cried, her sobs now falling in earnest. “Okay, I’m sixteen, homeless and her father’s nowhere in sight, but I loved her with everything that I had! I would have loved her until I died!”

  Georgie pushed back her chair and went around to Cynthia’s side. Cradling the girl against her, she gently stroked Cynthia’s blond hair. The young woman continued to cry softly and Georgie murmured mindless words of comfort. She agreed wholeheartedly with Cynthia. Dammit! It wasn’t fair.

  At last, the sobs quieted and slowly Cynthia pulled away. Georgie went back to her place and found a tissue in her handbag and gave it to the girl. A waitress approached a little uncertainly, holding a tray containing their order. Cynthia averted her face and Georgie distracted the waitress by offering her a bright, encouraging smile.

  “That looks delicious!” she said.

  “I have a chicken Caesar salad and a serving of fish and chips.”

  “Thank you,” Georgie said.

  The waitress set the food down on the table and then added, “I’ll be right back with the drinks.”

  Georgie picked up her fork. From the corner of her eye, she saw Cynthia reach for a french fry. Georgie’s breath eased out. It was okay. Cynthia was going to be okay.

  The waitress returned a moment later with a coffee mug and a can of Diet Coke. “Here we go,” she said and put the drinks in front of them. “Will there be anything else?”

  Georgie shook her head. “I think we’re good, thank you.” With a nod and a quick smile, the waitress disappeared.

  “How’s your fish?” Georgie asked a little while later.

  “It’s good,” Cynthia said quietly and then looked up. Her eyes were red, but she stared at Georgie calmly. “Thank you for not making a big scene. It’s embarrassing enough that I blubbered in public. I appreciate that you didn’t make a big deal of it.”

  “Hey, it’s no problem. Besides, if you want to cry in public, you go ahead and cry. I won’t let anybody stop you.”

  A tiny smile teased at the corners of Cynthia’s lips. “You’re pretty cool, for an adult, Georgie.”

  “You’re pretty cool, too, Cynthia. Don’t let anyone tell you different.”

  Cynthia’s smile widened and her expression grew sly. “My brother’s pretty cool. And good-looking. And he has this amazing car. Some kind of sports car that looks like it came out of a movie where the hot guy gets the girl. He’s single, you know.”

  Heat crept up Georgie’s neck but she steadfastly ignored her embarrassment. Laughing, she brushed away Cynthia’s comments and reached for her mug.

  “What? Don’t you think he’s good-looking?” Cynthia replied in surprise.

  Georgie swallowed a mouthful of coffee and cleared her throat. “I-I guess so. I haven’t really thought about it.”

  Cynthia frowned. “What’s there to think about? You’ve got eyes, haven’t you?”

  This time, Georgie’s cheeks ignited and there was no hiding her embarrassment.

  Cynthia pounced. “You do think he’s hot, don’t you? Or else you wouldn’t be looking at me like that! I knew it!”

  Georgie fumbled around for something to say, desperate to change the topic. “Oh, look! A ferry’s about to dock. Don’t you just love the Sydney ferries? Did you know the first commercial ferry service to cross Sydney Harbour was established in 1861? That’s a long time ago.”

  Cynthia merely shook her head slowly back and forth, a knowing expression on her face. The girl was wiser than her years. “So, are you single?”

  Coffee spluttered out of Georgie’s mouth and she scrambled for a napkin. “Cynthia! You’re not supposed to ask me questions like that! It… It’s impolite.”

  The girl shrugged, unrepentant. A few moments later, she spoke again. “So, are you?”

  Georgie took a deep breath to reprimand the teenager again and then gave up. What did it matter if she responded to the girl’s question? “Yes, Cynthia. I’m single.”

  Cynthia smiled. “Cool. Are you seeing anyone?”

  Georgie’s eyes widened at the girl’s audacity, but once again, she answered. “No, Cynthia, I’m not seeing anyone.”

  “Good.” The girl popped another french fry into her mouth and chewed slowly. “So, how old are you? ’Cause you act young, but you look kind of old.”

  This time, Georgie laughed outright. “I’m twenty-nine. To you, I’m sure it sounds ancient.”

  Cynthia grinned back at her. “Nah. Not really. Cam’s twenty-seven and even though he’s old, he doesn’t seem like it. You know what I mean?”

  Georgie nodded. “Oh, yeah. I know what you mean.”

  “Cam said I can stay with him for as long as I want. He’s re-enrolled me in school. I like that he cares enough about me and my education, but I don’t want to cramp his style. I mean, he’s heading for thirty, right? He should find a girl and get married. Isn�
��t that what people do when they get that old? He won’t be able to bring a wife home with me living in the spare room. No woman would want that.”

  Though she spoke with confidence and bravado, Georgie sensed the fear and uncertainty behind Cynthia’s words. Her heart tightened at the thought the young girl wasn’t sure how long Cam’s support would last, and her uncertainty about the future. She sat forward and tried to find the words to reassure her.

  “Your brother loves you. I hardly know him, but I can see how much he cares. He won’t ask you to leave and he won’t let you leave until you’re ready. Until you’re old enough to live on your own.”

  “I’ve been living on my own for the past two years,” Cynthia mumbled, her eyes downcast.

  “And I’m guessing Cameron had no idea about that.”

  Cynthia nodded, but remained silent.

  “Cynthia, listen to me. I made enquires about your brother’s whereabouts the same afternoon your baby was born. The very next morning, he was there, in the ward, asking for you. Are those the actions of someone who doesn’t care, and care deeply?”

  “I know he cares, but for how long?”

  Georgie stared at Cynthia’s bowed head. “Have you spoken to Cameron about this?” she asked softly. The girl continued to stare at her plate and shook her head.

  “You need to, honey. You owe him that. Who knows? You might be worrying about this for nothing. He might have no intention of settling down and getting married. Or if he does, that could be years away. People are getting married later and later these days. You might even be living in an apartment of your own by the time your brother makes the decision to marry or commit to a live-in girlfriend.”

  Cynthia lifted her head and stared at Georgie with hope in her eyes. “Do you really think so? I have nowhere else to go.”

  “It’s possible. I don’t know him very well. The best thing to do would be to talk to him about your fears and let him reassure you. I’m certain he will. He loves you. He wants to take care of you, at least until you’re old enough to take care of yourself—and are able to.”