The Family Next Door

by Sally Hepworth

  “I guess … honestly, honey, I don’t really remember. I was so tired at that point. I’m sure I was delighted.”

  “Surely you remember?” Essie pressed. “That first moment with your child?”

  Her mum’s eyes focused in the middle distance, searching for the memory. But how could she not know? Essie had been exhausted after giving birth to Mia and Polly. She had felt like she might die from the exhaustion. But she still remembered Mia’s cross little face—so disturbed from being ejected from her comfortable resting place. And Polly—she was so calm and alert it was almost as if she’d rested up for the big day and it was exactly as she’d expected. Essie could have described every fold in each of their faces during their first moments together. Then again, their births weren’t thirty years ago.

  Barbara’s gaze darted back and forth like she was scanning the insides of her brain. “I … you were … quiet, as I recall. A serious baby. You had … very long fingers. Piano-playing fingers. I said that to someone, I think. ‘She’ll have a career as a concert pianist.’”

  Essie smiled. A concert pianist. She felt a wave of relief. Of course her mum remembered her birth. Because she was her mum. Isabelle’s theory was nothing more than just that … a theory.

  Her mum smiled and reopened her magazine. Essie glanced down at her fingers, admiringly and that’s when she noticed they weren’t particularly long at all.

  * * *

  An hour or so after her mum had left, Essie reached for her iPad. She had several messages waiting for her—from Ange, from Fran. Several from Isabelle. She ignored them all. Instead she opened up Google. She hesitated a second, then typed in GENETIC SEXUAL ATTRACTION.

  Genetic sexual attraction (GSA) is sexual attraction between close relatives, such as siblings or half-siblings, a parent and offspring, or first and second cousins, who first meet as adults.

  Essie shuddered. The idea was just so … sickening. Before she knew it, she was clicking on another link.

  The phenomenon of genetic sexual attraction is sexual attraction between two close relatives. It’s believed to be triggered when two family members are estranged early in life. Failing to form the family bonds which create a natural taboo around sexual bonding, they risk interpreting intense familiarity as sexual attraction.

  Barbara Gonyo coined the term in 1980. She reported feeling overwhelmingly attracted to her own estranged son upon meeting him later in life. However, her son’s unresponsiveness towards her attraction meant she never acted on it. Known as GSA, genetic sexual attraction is reported in a full 50 percent of reunion cases between related adults separated in their early years.

  Essie closed down the browser quickly and put down the iPad. It was interesting enough, in a really creepy way, but it was of no relevance to her. She wasn’t actually entertaining the idea that Isabelle could be her sister. She refused to believe that her mother would have snatched her. Her mother was the most honest, upstanding citizen she knew. She wouldn’t so much as park in a No-Standing Zone, let alone steal a baby! No. It was ridiculous.

  Although … what if something else was going on? A terrible misunderstanding? Essie had heard stories of children who had been switched at birth … what if that had happened? What if her mum had given birth to another baby—a lovely, long-fingered baby—and somehow had ended up with Essie instead? It would explain everything. The reason why, at age thirty-two, Essie was suddenly attracted to a woman. The reason why just the thought of Isabelle brought about strong, physical urges she’d never had for any man.

  Yes, it was possible. But it was a stretch. A long stretch. She thought of what Isabelle had said. Our kinship index is greater than one point zero, which means we share DNA. What did that even mean? After all, didn’t everyone share DNA? Wasn’t everyone related in the grand scheme of things?

  It was a mistake. This whole thing was a mistake.

  Essie lay down on the bed. She had about an hour before Ben arrived. She should get some rest. The doctors said rest was important. She could just buzz the nurse right now and ask for a sleeping tablet and they’d give it to her. Perhaps that’s what she’d do.

  She sat up again. But instead of reaching for the buzzer, she reached again for the iPad. She opened up a new browser and typed in: DNA TESTING. HOW ACCURATE IS IT?

  45

  BARBARA

  Barbara was driving home from the hospital when she felt a sudden jolt—like her heart had missed a beat. Her skin started tingling, her breath became shallow and her thoughts began to race: fast and furious. Am I having a heart attack? A stroke? A panic attack? But the loudest, most prominent thought was …

  Why do I not remember the doctor handing me Essie?

  She pulled to the side of the road. She still appeared to have full use of both arms, which was good. She glanced in the mirror—neither side of her face had slackened. But she’d felt strangely off-kilter since leaving the hospital. Perhaps she was coming down with something? Lois had been ill with a nasty virus these last few days, maybe she’d caught it. She did have a slight ringing in her ears.

  Suddenly she realized that ringing was her phone.

  She scrambled for it in her purse on the passenger seat of the car. It was Lois.

  “I was just thinking about you,” Barb told her.

  “I know,” Lois said. “My ears were burning.”

  “That only happens when someone talks about you, Lo.”

  “I doubt it happens at all,” Lois said, pausing to sneeze. She sounded dreadful—all stuffed up. If Barbara wasn’t going through her own personal catastrophe she’d have gone straight over there with chicken soup and lemons.

  “I fear I haven’t been a very good friend these last few days,” Barbara told her. “I should have dropped by with soup or something.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve had enough on your plate with Essie. Besides, you need to stay away. This thing’s awful. It started as the stomach flu, now it’s morphed into a dreadful cold. I’d feel terrible if you caught it.”

  “It might be too late,” Barbara said. “I feel like I might be coming down with something already.”

  “Are you sick to your stomach?” Lois asked. “Headache? Sniffles?”

  “No, not exactly.”

  “It might be this god-awful heat.”

  “Maybe,” Barbara said. Her legs were stuck to the seat beneath her and the back of her hair was damp. But it felt like something more.

  A comfortable silence drifted between them as Barbara tried to analyze what was going on with her. She had no symptoms. And yet, she felt terrible.

  “Ah,” Lois said, finally.

  “What?” Barbara said. “What does ah mean?”

  “You have a dreadful case of WMS.”

  “WMS?”

  “Worried mother syndrome.”

  Barbara let her head fall back against the headrest. Of course! She was worried about Essie. What mother didn’t become shaky and erratic when something was wrong with her child? That was all it was.

  “I know you need to be there for Essie, Barb, but you need to look after yourself too. You’re not as young as you used to be.”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  “It’s the truth. I’m ordering you to go home and take a nap. Let Ben take care of the girls today.”

  “Ben is taking care of the girls today. You’re probably right, I do need a nap. I haven’t slept properly since this whole thing went down with Essie.”

  “Of course you haven’t. You’re a good mother. But it’s time to look after you.”

  Barbara suddenly felt much better. She should have known a chat with her old friend would fix everything. “All right,” she said. “I will.”

  “Right. I’ll call you tomorrow to check in.”

  “Thanks. Oh, and Lo?”

  Lois blew her nose again. “Mmm?”

  “Do you remember the moment the doctor handed you Teresa after she was born?”

  There was a pause. “Vaguely. She was covered
in white gunky stuff. I remember asking the doctor whether that was normal. I don’t remember much else. Why?”

  Once again, Lois had proven to be the best friend Barbara could’ve asked for. “No reason,” she said. “No reason at all.”

  46

  ISABELLE

  “Are you just going to sit there looking out the window for the rest of your life?” Jules asked.

  “Probably,” Isabelle said, because maybe she would stay in this window forever. She couldn’t focus on anything except Essie. She’d called and texted her a dozen times and, as expected, Essie hadn’t responded. The whole thing had left her feeling flat and empty. After all these years she’d finally found Sophie—and she couldn’t see her. And while she understood that Essie needed time to catch up, it still hurt.

  Jules came and sat behind her in the armchair and began massaging her shoulders. “I don’t know if I could do this without you, you know,” she told him.

  “You definitely couldn’t.”

  She smiled, getting a glimmer of understanding of what it must be like to be in a real relationship—a relationship where you shared things, talked things through, sorted things out. It was … nice. She was about to say so when, through the window, she noticed Barbara letting herself out of Essie’s place, holding Mia’s hand. Before she knew what she was doing, Isabelle was out of her seat and out the front door.

  “Barbara!”

  Barbara stopped and looked around.

  “Oh, hello, Isabelle.” She looked so nice, so normal. The quintessential woman next door who stole her sister. “I’m glad I ran into you. I’m sorry about yesterday. I don’t know why Essie has decided not to see visitors. But it’s probably for the best.”

  “Best for who?”

  Isabelle hadn’t meant to confront Barbara—she wanted to give Essie a chance to catch up first, but all at once, she couldn’t help herself.

  “I’m sorry?” Barbara said, her smile slipping.

  “Who is it best for? You? Is it best for you that Essie doesn’t see visitors? After all, you like to keep her separate from people, don’t you? Isn’t that what you’ve done all her life?”

  Barbara blinked. “I … I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “I think you do.”

  She laughed, a little disconcertedly. “I can assure you, I don’t.”

  “I know Essie is not your daughter.”

  To her credit, Barbara did a good job of acting surprised. Amused even. She glanced around, as though she suspected Isabelle was playing some sort of joke on her. “What?”

  “On June tenth, 1985, my sister Sophie Heatherington was snatched from the Royal Sydney hospital. The same day Essie was born at the same hospital.”

  Barbara’s head drew back into her neck, like a turtle into its shell. “Your sister was stolen from the Royal Sydney hospital?”

  “And never found.”

  Barbara was at a loss for words. “I’m sorry, Isabelle. I can’t imagine what that must have been like for your family.”

  “No, you can’t imagine. If you could, you never would have stolen her.”

  Barbara scratched her head, perplexed. “Isabelle, why do you think your sister is Essie?”

  “I have proof, Barbara. DNA evidence.”

  Barbara’s frown deepened. “Well … I also have proof. I gave birth to her. I brought her home from the hospital as a newborn.”

  “A large newborn?” Isabelle said. “A nineteen-day-old newborn? And then, swiftly moved to Melbourne?”

  Barbara hesitated. Then she shook her head. “Look, this is all very strange. But I can assure you I would never, ever, steal a baby. The idea is absolutely abhorrent. As a mother, I can understand the pain it would cause—”

  “But you’re not a mother! What did you do, fake a pregnancy? Was it to hold on to a man? Or did you lose a baby? Did you just have an insatiable need to be loved?”

  “Gran,” Mia said. “Why is Isabelle yelling at you?”

  Barbara’s hand found Mia’s face and stroked it. But her gaze remained on Isabelle. Something had changed. She was hearing what Isabelle was saying. Still, there was no guilt on her face, only shock. She was either a wonderful actress, or something else was at play here.

  “You say you have proof?” Barbara said, after a moment.

  “Yes,” Isabelle said. “DNA.”

  “And that DNA says I’m not her mother?”

  “It says that I am Mia’s aunt. Which means Essie is my sister.”

  “That’s impossible,” Barbara whispered. She muttered something softly, something Isabelle couldn’t make out.

  “Gran!” Mia said.

  “Yes, darling?”

  “I thought we were going to see Mummy.”

  “We are,” she said. “Yes. We are.”

  She took Mia’s hand and headed away from Isabelle without another word. The car was parked at the end of the drive and in stiff, robotic movements Barbara loaded Mia into her booster seat and then walked around to the driver side. From there, she held Isabelle’s gaze above the car. It occurred to Isabelle then that it might not be a good idea to let Barbara drive away with Mia, but before she had a chance to do anything about it Barbara had got into the driver’s seat and was driving away.

  47

  ESSIE

  Essie got out of her bed and sat in the chair in the corner. In the last few hours it had occurred to her that it was strange for her to be in bed all day. After all, she wasn’t sick, was she? She didn’t feel sick. Stressed, maybe. Confused, certainly. But not sick.

  You’re not crazy, Essie. Was that what Isabelle had said to her? Essie had to admit, the idea that she wasn’t crazy was appealing, if she didn’t think too much about what it meant. That her mother wasn’t her mother.

  Her mum and Mia were due here any moment. Essie imagined having this conversation with her: Okay, Mum, this is going to sound weird, but I’m not sure you are actually my mum. Would it be okay if you got a DNA test to confirm that we are related?

  Essie knew exactly how her mum would react. She would blink a few times, and then her head would retreat a few inches, giving her a frightening number of chins. Finally, she’d agree. She’d be baffled, of course, but she wasn’t the obtuse type. If Essie wanted a DNA test, her mum would take one. It was possible she wouldn’t even ask why.

  She’d been coming around to the idea of having a sister. She didn’t believe Isabelle’s assertion that her mother had kidnapped her, of course, not for one minute. If she did happen to be Isabelle’s sister, there would have to be another explanation. After all, Essie was thirty-two years old. In the old days hospital systems weren’t like they were now. It would have been easy to mix two babies up. Didn’t it happen all the time? But while the idea of being related to Isabelle appealed, Essie wasn’t sure she could handle the idea of not being related to her mum.

  She sighed and sat back in her chair. She glanced at the clock on the wall. It was later than she thought. Her mum should have been here with Mia over an hour ago.

  Where were they?

  48

  ISABELLE

  As Isabelle walked inside, she was still thinking about Barbara. She’d reacted so strangely. Not like she’d been caught in the act. More like she’d just found out something she didn’t know. But how was that possible? Isabelle had pictured confronting the person who’d taken her sister a million times over the years, and never once had it involved a startled, confused-looking middle-aged woman shooing her granddaughter into the car.

  Isabelle got down a glass from the cupboard, turning the whole thing over in her mind. She shouldn’t have let Barbara take Mia while she was in that state. For all she knew, Barbara wasn’t fit to drive. Isabelle thought about calling Essie, but she doubted she’d answer. She’d just decided to call Ben when she saw him through the window, walking down her path.

  Isabelle made it to her front door at the same time as Ben.

  “Ben,” she said, throwing open the door.
He looked spent. He was in his shorts and tank top and was sweaty, like everyone else. He looked like he’d been through the mill. Polly was in his arms. “Hello.”

  “Have you seen Barbara?” he said. “Or Mia?”

  “Yes. I saw them this morning in your driveway. They were going to see Essie at the hospital.” The first flutters of panic started in Isabelle’s chest. “Why?”

  “How long ago was that?”

  “Uh, I guess … two hours? Three? Haven’t they—”

  “Shit.” Ben turned and started walking back down the driveway without another word. Isabelle ran after him. The concrete was hot under her bare feet. “What’s happened?”

  “I can’t find her and she’s not answering her phone. Essie’s worried she’s had a car accident but I’ve traced the way to the hospital and there’s no sign of any accidents. I’ll have to start calling hospitals.” Ben was walking purposefully down the path and Isabelle was on his heels. But hearing this, she fell back.

  “This is all my fault.”

  Ben stopped short. “What do you mean, all your fault?” He half turned, both curious and impatient. He clutched Polly around her waist so that she dangled rather than rested on his hip. She gave an irritated squeak.

  “I … may have upset Barbara when I saw her earlier,” Isabelle said.

  “Upset her how?” Isabelle could see from Ben’s expression that Essie hadn’t told him anything.

  “I need to see Essie,” she said.

  “Isabelle, if you know something, can you please just spit it out? Barbara never does anything like this and I am worried.”

  “I just…”

  Ben stared at her. He was usually so patient, so easygoing, but he looked like he was about to throttle her. “What?”

  “I’m sorry to tell you this, Ben, but … I think Barbara may have kidnapped Mia.”

  49

  ANGE

  Lucas would be here any minute. Ange sat in the front room, trying to psyche herself up for it. He’d called an hour ago, saying he’d like to come to see the boys. The boys, he’d said; not her. After fourteen years of marriage, this was what they had been reduced to. This was what happened, she realized, when secrets came out. This was the reason she hadn’t wanted to tell, hadn’t wanted to know.