by Emily Gunnis
Rebecca is Jacob’s child, so she is my responsibility. I love her as I would love my own blood, as I loved my mistress. I was sure Cecilia was gone. But still I will never forgive myself.
When I reached the station my legs were heavy and I had to force myself to walk through the front door and ask to speak to the detective in charge about a missing person. The room started to spin as I sat and waited, my hands shaking so much I had to hide them in my coat pockets.
Eventually a man with a heavy black moustache and a long face appeared in the waiting room.
‘Mrs Waterhouse? I’m Detective Inspector Gibbs. Please come with me.’
I recognized him immediately; he was the man who had interviewed me at Northcote the day Cecilia went missing. He knew I was holding something back then and he’d looked angry. I hung my head and tried to block out the bright lights and sounds that were overwhelming me – the ringing telephones, the clacking typewriters. I watched his shiny black brogues clicking on the floor in front of me, and it was all I could do to put one foot in front of the other and not turn around and run. I knew that as soon as I told this man the truth he would send someone to Seaview to take my beloved Rebecca away from me.
We entered a small room with no windows and he told me to take a seat. I did so, resting my bag on my lap, and tried to stop my legs trembling with fear under the table.
‘So, you have some information about a missing person, I understand?’ He spoke slowly, in a way that unnerved me, leaning back in his chair and lighting a cigarette. He threw his packet of Woodbines on the table and pushed his chair back so the legs gave a loud screech and made me jump. He didn’t seem trustworthy somehow. I didn’t want to tell this man the depths of my pain. But I didn’t want to tell anyone. I wanted to turn and walk away, knowing every beat of my heart in that room would be my last as a mother.
I pictured Cecilia sitting next to me, holding my hand, and I told him my story. That I had suspected Cecilia had gone to Seaview, as it was where she holidayed as a child. I told him I found her shoes by the sea, and that I found her baby. I said that Rebecca had been close to death and that the owner of Seaview Farm had saved her life. That he had given us a place to stay and that I had lived there for the past five years, raising Rebecca.
He took a statement from me, which took nearly two hours for him to type up, and when it was finally over and the truth was out, I expected a sense of freedom, some sort of release. But I felt worse than I ever have in my life. Sadness to the pit of my soul at all the memories of my little girl, of the day she was born, of finding her in the bay, of all our years together at Seaview, of the happiness she has brought me. Her skin, her face, her touch – she is my life and without her I am nothing.
Detective Inspector Gibbs took a final drag on his cigarette and stared at me for a long while and then stood up and told me to follow him. Which I did, down a long corridor and set of stairs, to the holding cells, where he unlocked one of the cell doors and told me that they would be charging me with child abduction, that I would be held until my case could be heard before a judge.
I walked into my cell and the door slammed. There was a thin mattress on a metal-slatted bed and a bucket in the corner. It smelled of vomit and urine. I sat on the edge of the bed, my knees hugged to me, and stared at the heavy door with the slit to pass food through. I thought of Rebecca at Seaview Farm, a police car pulling up into the courtyard. Two men getting out, and walking into the house to rip Rebecca from Harvey’s grip. I had no idea where they would take her. I couldn’t bring myself to think about how frightened she would be. I had no choice, I told myself. I had no choice.
I thought of Cecilia. Of her life, a life behind bars. No escape from the physical and mental prison which she is made to endure every day. I thought of Ted, his kindness to us. His sweet smile, his laugh, and him drinking whisky by an open fire and telling the children stories. I thought of Harvey, how he would never understand where his little friend had gone. I pictured Jacob in the art room at Greenways, painting Cecilia in all her raw beauty. I pictured the painting that brought me here. At dawn I began to cry until eventually I fell asleep.
When the key turned in the lock I didn’t know what time it was, but it still felt like night. I was offered no food or water. My body ached and throbbed from sleeping on the thin mattress. I knew only two things for certain, as I sat up and tried to shake myself awake: that I was going to prison and that Rebecca would be taken away from me.
As the door opened a figure appeared in silhouette and I looked up to see a man I hadn’t set eyes on for nearly five years. Charles Barton.
He asked if he could come in, and sat on the bed, requesting that I be brought a cup of tea and a blanket immediately. He said nothing, smiling at me, until Detective Inspector Gibbs returned with them and handed them over and then went out. I couldn’t move, I was so frightened, and so Charles Barton wrapped the blanket around me and put the tea down beside me on the floor. Then he began to speak, slowly, as if he were giving a sermon in church. His voice had an edge to it, as if he were presenting me with the facts in a court of law. I drank in his appearance – his suit was freshly pressed, his shoes shining. I had no idea what time it was, or if I was in fact asleep and in the midst of a nightmare.
‘We have ourselves a little problem, Harriet. It was a shock to get a call from Detective Inspector Gibbs here, telling me that after all this time of believing she was drowned, Cecilia’s baby is alive. I know the child is not mine, and that Cecilia got herself in the family way after casting her spell over your husband. It is very commendable that you took it upon yourself to take care of the child while both its parents were somewhat indisposed.’
I was frightened to look away, but the hatch was open and I could see Detective Inspector Gibbs standing on the other side of the door. The other cells were silent; everywhere else was quiet.
‘I have spoken with my lawyer and given it some thought. If you are willing to stay quiet about all this and officially adopt the child by way of a closed adoption so that Rebecca and Cecilia are unable to find any trace of one another, I am willing to drop the child abduction charges. But you will leave this cell and never speak of this business again.’
I couldn’t believe what was being said. ‘But what would happen to Cecilia?’
Barton looked at me, long and hard. ‘Cecilia remains very unwell. If you were to decline my offer, the child would not be returned to her. She needs to stay where she is, for now at least. It would be too confusing for the little girl to be reunited with her mother, then for Cecilia to fall ill again and the two of them to be separated for a second time.’
‘But she is unhappy because she is not with her little girl.’
‘Now, now, I don’t think it is for us to decide why Cecilia has been certified insane. But it is certainly not something that can be cured overnight. Now, I am not an unreasonable man, hence why I am making you this offer – against the advice of my sisters, I might add. But I would say that if you don’t sign now, I would have to have the child removed from your care immediately and sent for a closed adoption abroad, so as not to cause any confusion. I presume you haven’t told Jacob that the child isn’t yours?’
‘No, Mr Barton,’ I said, my voice a whisper.
‘Good, good, I think it’s best to leave it that way. He is the child’s father, after all. And I understand he is due to be released soon. I think this could all work out for the best for everyone.’
‘I don’t see how this has worked out well for Cecilia. She loved you, Charles. We cannot leave her in that place. I can’t live with myself.’
‘She had an affair with your husband. I think you are being far too generous. She has been certified insane by two psychiatrists. I think you have been a very good friend to her, but if we let her out now she will most likely kill herself. At least this way there is a chance she can get better, in the hands of doctors who know what they are doing. So, do I have your word?’
What was I to
do? If I declined and handed Rebecca over, they would send her away, Cecilia would not have her and Rebecca would go to a stranger in a foreign country, far away from everyone and everything she loves. I cannot punish Rebecca because I cannot live with myself.
My mind raced as I sat there, thinking of how a powerful man can decide to keep a woman locked up in an asylum for his own personal gain. How someone admitted to an insane asylum could be left there dwindling for the rest of their life.
‘Perhaps it has become too much of a burden for you. Would you prefer that we take the child?’
I decided that I had to do right by Rebecca, that all I could do was hope that Cecilia would come one day and find us at Seaview. I am forbidden to tell anyone about Cecilia’s existence. As of this moment, I am Rebecca’s mother.
I looked him in the eye and said, ‘I love that child with everything that I am.’
‘Then she is a lucky little girl. I am not a monster, Harriet, which is why I am not pressing charges of child abduction. But my family cannot allow a scandal of this magnitude to get out.’
Detective Inspector Gibbs came into the room and handed him a piece of paper and a fountain pen.
‘We have a document here which, if you sign it today, means that we relinquish care of the child to you. Rebecca is Jacob’s child. Her care can be transferred to him, if he is living with you.’
He handed me the pen and, after looking up at Detective Inspector Gibbs, I signed my name and sealed my place in hell. As he stood up and buttoned his coat, Barton said, ‘The sealed records effectively prevent the adoptee and the biological parents from finding, or even knowing anything about each other, so you have nothing to fear. No one will ever know and, as of this moment, Rebecca is officially yours.’
‘Cecilia will know,’ I said, before Charles Barton turned on his heels and left.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Iris
10.35 p.m. Wednesday, 19 November 2014
Iris Waterhouse paused at the door of the relatives’ room at St Dunstan’s Hospital, where her mother was sitting alone in the dark, her head bowed over her lap.
‘Are you okay, Mum?’ she asked.
‘Not really.’ Rebecca didn’t look up as Iris sat beside her.
‘They said baby Elizabeth is going to be okay, that you saved her life.’
‘Well, I don’t know about that.’ Iris watched her mother wipe away tears.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, I’ve sacrificed so much to do what I do. And at what price?’
‘Mum, she would have died without you.’
‘Without me, Jessie wouldn’t have been in that state and none of this would have happened. I should have been there all along, not just to snatch my grandchild from the jaws of death.’ Rebecca’s voice was quiet.
‘Mum, I don’t know much about psychosis, but I’m pretty sure it can happen to anyone. It was in Jessie’s blood – you had it.’ Iris paused. ‘And it sounds like your mother had it too.’
‘I’m scared of what is waiting for me in that room. Harriet is my mother. Everything I’ve done is for her, because of her. I can’t live with that being a lie.’
‘Just because she wasn’t your birth mother doesn’t change who Harriet was, and who you are. And she would be incredibly proud of you – she was incredibly proud of you. I know she was.’ Iris put her head on her mother’s shoulder.
‘I don’t think she would have been proud of how I’ve treated Jessie. Harriet gave up everything to raise me. So much so that I felt the overwhelming burden of living for both of us – it was always what drove me on. Every beating she took, I swore it wouldn’t be for nothing.’
‘And it wasn’t. Look what you’ve done, what you’ve achieved.’
‘But if you aren’t there for your family – your blood – what does any of that matter?’
‘Mum, you can’t say that everything you have achieved is for nothing. You’ve helped so many people, saved so many lives. And you’re a wonderful mother. I should know.’
Rebecca smiled weakly at her daughter. ‘I’m sixty-seven years old. I need to slow down. I’ve just been too frightened to stop because then I would have to think. What Harriet and I went through together – it has haunted me every day of my life.’
Iris slowly pulled the diary out of her bag and pressed it into her mother’s lap. ‘Harriet was very proud of you. And she didn’t steal you from your mother, she had no choice.’
Rebecca looked over at Iris, then down at the red leatherbound book on her lap. ‘Is this Harriet’s diary? Where did you get it?’
‘It was in the bomb shelter. Jessie must have found it. I haven’t had a chance to read it all properly, but it was Cecilia’s husband who made sure she stayed locked up. He told Harriet that, even if Cecilia got out of Greenways, she wouldn’t get you back. And that he’d have you adopted abroad if Harriet ever told anyone. He was a very powerful man and wanted to keep the scandal under wraps, and in those days you could have your wife incarcerated. Harriet loved Cecilia. She stayed at Seaview in the hope that one day Cecilia would get out and come and find you.’
‘So, by scandal, you mean my father and Cecilia had an affair?’ Rebecca looked up at Iris.
‘I haven’t read it all, but, yes, it sounds like Jacob was your father.’
Rebecca looked at Iris, her eyes shimmering from the tears waiting to fall. She stroked the cover of the diary. ‘Will you come with me, to meet Cecilia?’
‘Of course I will.’ Iris stood and held out her hand.
DC Galt and Harvey were waiting in the corridor for them and said nothing as they emerged.
‘Where’s Jessie?’ Rebecca asked Harvey, who was looking grey with exhaustion.
‘She’s with Adam. She’s doing okay. They’re hoping to get them a place in a mother-and-baby unit at Brighton.’
‘That’s a relief to hear. I’d like to see her later, if that would be okay?’
‘Of course. She’s sleeping now, but she knows you saved Elizabeth’s life and we are . . . we wanted to say thank you. I’ll never be able to repay you for what you did.’
‘Harvey, she’s my daughter. It’s not a case of repaying me.’
‘I know, and I owe you an apology, Rebecca. I feel very responsible for so much of this mess.’
‘I just want to be in Jessie’s life, and in my granddaughter’s life. We both do,’ said Rebecca, looking at Iris, who smiled gently at Harvey.
‘Although I’m going to need an exclusive from you if I’m not going to lose my job over this,’ said Iris to Harvey, winking.
Harvey let out a weary laugh. ‘I think that’s the least I can do.’
‘I think there’s someone you need to meet, Rebecca,’ said DC Galt gently. ‘I’m afraid we don’t have long. She’s struggling to talk, so you may not be able to say much to one another. She has a carer with her called Rosie.’
Rebecca nodded. ‘I met her,’ she said quietly as they walked along the corridor.
Finally they reached the door of Cecilia’s room and DC Galt knocked softly and opened it.
In the bed, sitting up, was a woman with long grey hair falling down around her shoulders. She had an oxygen mask over her face and her eyes were closed.
The elderly woman opened the green eyes and stared at her. Slowly she pulled down the mask and smiled gently.
‘Hello, Rebecca, I hear you got called away. Thank you bringing me my necklace.’
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Rebecca
10:45 p.m. Wednesday, 19 November 2014
Rebecca stood at the door. As she walked towards the bed she felt a strange sense of calm. The room had an air of peace about it, and she felt instantly relieved that she had got to Cecilia in time.
The girl who had been sitting in a chair next to the bed stood up. ‘Do you want to sit here?’ Rosie asked Rebecca quietly. ‘They gave Cecilia a shot of morphine a few minutes ago so she’s quite sleepy.’
Rebecca sat down. F
or a moment all was quiet. Cecilia’s chest rumbled with every breath as she closed her eyes again. The machine beeped quietly in the background as the hiss of oxygen filled the room.
Rebecca looked at Cecilia, absorbing every inch of her face for the first time. Trying to take in as much as she could all in one moment. Cecilia’s skin tone was olive, just like hers, despite her fair hair. And her narrow frame and pronounced cheek bones felt familiar to her. Rebecca could see that, even lying on her death bed, Cecilia had been a beauty.
Slowly, Rebecca reached out her hand and slid it into Cecilia’s. Immediately the woman’s hand closed around hers.
When she spoke, her voice was gravelly and slow, but loud enough for Rebecca to hear. ‘I’ve waited a long time to hold your hand again,’ she said, air catching in her struggling lungs.
Rebecca smiled at Cecilia, then turned to Rosie. ‘Do you think we could be alone? Just the two of us.’
‘Of course,’ said Rosie, as Iris smiled at her mother and the two women left the room. Finally, the door closed.
Rebecca was the first to speak. ‘I’m sorry it took us so long to find each other.’
‘I hear you saved your granddaughter’s life.’ Cecilia smiled as she gazed at Rebecca. ‘I’m so proud of you, Rebecca.’
‘I don’t think you would be if you really knew me,’ said Rebecca, as one of her tears splashed on to Cecilia’s hand.
‘I know you better than you think I do,’ said Cecilia. She began to cough again. Rebecca waited for her to gather her strength and continue. ‘I carried you for nine months, remember, I know what a fighter you are. It’s time to forgive yourself.’
Rebecca frowned and looked up into her mother’s emerald green eyes.
After taking a deep breath the old woman continued. ‘I’m sorry for what you had to witness that night, Rebecca . . . And for what you had to do.’