The Mothers

by Genevieve Gannon

  ‘Who was knocking?’ he asked now, yawning.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  The syncopated rat-tat-tat came again.

  ‘I suppose I’d better get it,’ she said.

  ‘Try not to look so worried all the time. It could be the gas man come to read the meter.’

  She was greeted by two men, each wearing a suit and carrying a leather portfolio tucked under his arm.

  ‘Mrs Arden.’ The shorter of the pair offered a hand. ‘I’m Hugh Madigan and this is Paul Barr. We’re from the McArthur and Lowe law firm. May we come in?’

  They stared at Grace, waiting with what appeared to be complete confidence that she would say yes and move aside. One had over-gelled red curls and freckled skin. The other, taller, had tanned skin and deep frown lines. But to Grace they both looked the same. They were soldiers of her misfortune.

  It took her a moment to find her voice. ‘What’s this about?’ she stammered, hanging behind the half-open door.

  ‘We’re here on behalf of the Empona fertility clinic.’

  ‘The clinic?’ She felt a chill and instinctively drew back into the house a little. ‘Should I have a lawyer present?’

  The men laughed indulgently. ‘This is just a friendly chat.’

  ‘Dan,’ she called over her shoulder. ‘My husband’s just upstairs,’ she said, turning back to the men. ‘Could you excuse me for one moment, please.’ She held up her hand. Stay. ‘I’ll be right back.’

  ‘They say they’re lawyers from McArthur and Lowe,’ she told Dan.

  ‘Huh.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘That’s the firm that acted for the clinic that was sued by the couple whose IVF-conceived boys had Fragile X syndrome, even though they were screened for it.’

  ‘The case where they gave them the wrong test results?’

  ‘That’s it.’

  Dan’s colleague Leo had broken that story in the Herald. A couple had discovered both of their sons had inherited the condition the wife’s brother and uncle had. There had been a lab error, and the clinic was given the wrong results. They had settled out of court.

  ‘What do they want?’

  ‘They want to come in. All they said was they wanted to chat.’ She looked at him. ‘It’s starting, isn’t it?’ Grace asked. ‘They’re going to take him.’

  ‘No, no.’ He pressed her arm. ‘The clinic will not try to take Sam.’

  ‘You don’t know that.’

  ‘I think we’d both better hear this,’ Dan said.

  He put Sam into his cot and followed Grace downstairs. As she descended she could feel her fears rolling in like big black clouds. But she fought them back. For Sam. And once again she opened the door to the men.

  ‘This is my husband.’

  Dan was tightening the belt of his robe around his waist. ‘You said you were lawyers?’

  ‘Yes. For the Empona fertility clinic,’ the shorter man reiterated as handshakes were exchanged.

  ‘What’s this about?’ Dan asked.

  ‘I’d really prefer to have this conversation in private.’

  ‘In that case you’d better come in.’

  Grace moved aside and they stepped into the hallway. She led them to the dining room, sweeping Sam’s bassinet away, and tucking a large soft ball and his baby bouncer into the cupboard before the strangers entered.

  Dan invited them to sit, which they did, stiff in their suits. ‘I’ll just come out with it,’ said the taller visitor. ‘During a routine audit of procedures the clinic noticed some … anomalies in your treatment.’ He spoke slowly, gauging the couple’s response.

  ‘Anomalies?’ said Dan, cautiously. ‘What type of anomalies?’

  ‘There was a clerical error.’

  Grace and Dan looked at each other, feigning innocence.

  ‘Why wasn’t it picked up earlier?’ Dan asked.

  The lawyer cleared his throat. ‘Tell me, were you both happy with your fertility treatment?’ His words had the cadence of a pre-prepared speech.

  They nodded, scared to speak.

  ‘There were no … problems?’

  ‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t offer you anything,’ Grace said, standing suddenly. ‘Can I get you a drink? Tea? Coffee?’

  ‘No, thank you,’ said the shorter lawyer, but the taller cut across him. ‘Coffee would be great, thank you. We both take it white with one.’

  ‘Dan, will you help me?’

  ‘Excuse us,’ Dan said to the lawyers, who nodded, playing along.

  Grace hurried through the kitchen into the laundry and hit the start button on the clothes dryer to muffle their voices. ‘What is this?’

  Dan shrugged. ‘Perhaps they’re going to make a pre-emptive settlement offer. Prevent a trial and a negligence payout.’

  ‘We need to call Elliott.’

  ‘Maybe they don’t know what happened. Maybe they’re just covering their bases.’

  But Dan wondered about the letter. Had the woman written to Empona too? The torn pieces of paper were jammed down the back of the top drawer of his desk. He hadn’t wanted to be rid of them completely.

  ‘Let’s just hear them out,’ he whispered. ‘Whatever they have to say, we play dumb, tell them we need to think about it. Once they’re gone, we’ll call Elliott.’

  Grace nodded. ‘I’d better get them their drinks.’

  ‘I’ll do it,’ Dan said.

  ‘Lovely,’ Hugh Madigan said when Dan handed him a cup. He took one sip then put it down.

  ‘So, these anomalies,’ Dan said. ‘Should we be worried?’

  ‘No, no, no, it was purely an administrative issue. There’s no risk to the health of your child. Your child is healthy? There’s nothing … wrong?’

  ‘He’s perfect,’ Grace said quickly.

  ‘How many other families have been affected?’ Dan asked.

  ‘Hopefully none,’ said the shorter lawyer.

  ‘I’ll be clear,’ the taller spoke over him again. ‘Our client, Empona, is willing to offer you a considerable sum for any damages you may have sustained as a result of anomalies in their processes while you were a patient there. There’s no admission of guilt, but if you accept the offer, you will be required to sign a confidentiality agreement. I think you’ll find they’re prepared to be very generous.’

  ‘But if there’s no admission of guilt, and no complaint, why would the company want to pay us?’ Grace asked.

  ‘The clinic feels that the risk you were exposed to was unacceptable, and worthy of compensation,’ Hugh Madigan said clearly, carefully.

  ‘So why the clause about keeping silent?’

  ‘Mrs Arden, our client believes that it is best for everyone if this matter remains a private one,’ the shorter one said.

  ‘Better for whom?’ said Dan.

  The taller cleared his throat. ‘It’s for the sake of Empona’s other patients. The clinic feels it would be distressing for them to read that there had been a small hitch in some of the record keeping. If, say, it found its way into the newspaper you work for, Mr Arden. The clinic knows how stressful fertility treatments are and they don’t want to put further strain on their patients.’

  ‘Aren’t they a caring bunch?’ Dan muttered.

  ‘No one will ever know?’ Grace asked.

  The lawyer slid the contract across the table and placed a heavy gold pen on top of it. ‘No one will ever know.’

  ‘Can we look this over?’ Dan asked.

  ‘Of course.’

  Hugh Madigan took a card from his wallet. ‘Here are my contact details. Give me a ring when you’re ready.’ The men stood. ‘Thank you for your time. We’ll see ourselves out.’

  Thirty-three

  Priya desperately needed to talk to her sister, but when she arrived at Viv’s, the house was in an uproar. The twins loved to run away from their mother in different directions, giggling and screaming. ‘I’m getting more exercise than I have in years,’ Viv said, as she tried to hold Shanti still
so that she could pin on a nappy. As she reached for the Sudocrem, Shanaya kicked over a bottle of powder, sending it flying across the floor like wildfire and puffing a dry cloud into the air, making Viv cough.

  Shanti, seeing her chance, was up off the floor in a flash and toddling towards the kitchen like she was motorised. ‘Shanti!’ Viv called after her.

  ‘I’ll get her.’ Priya leapt to her feet. Shanti squealed with delighted terror as her aunt chased her into the kitchen. The toddler began running on the spot, then, overcome with excitement, wee’d all over the tiles.

  ‘Oh, Shanti!’ Priya said, grabbing a roll of paper towel.

  ‘What?’ Viv called from the other room. The second her concentration was lost, Shanaya jumped up too and followed her sister into the kitchen.

  ‘Watch out!’ Priya yelled. Too late—Shanaya slipped on the puddle and went down hard, her head thumping against the ceramic floor. She was in such shock that she lay silently on her back for a moment, her delicate curls soaking up her sister’s urine. Shanti screamed in fright, then exploded in a fit of tears.

  ‘Shanaya!’ Priya fell to her knees and scooped the wet girl up off the floor.

  ‘What happened?’ Viv appeared at the door, then put her arms around Shanti, thinking she was the one who was hurt. Shanaya began to cry.

  ‘Sh,’ Priya soothed, rocking the girl. ‘She’s okay. She just got a shock.’

  ‘Come here to me.’ Viv held her hands up for Shanaya, who walked through the puddle with her arms stretched out to her mother, trailing footprints across the floor.

  ‘Did she hit her head?’ Viv asked, smoothing the back of Shanaya’s wet hair.

  ‘She fell. There doesn’t seem to be a lump. Are you okay there?’ Priya asked, watching as Viv rocked Shanaya, whose sobs had quietened to deep shuddering breaths. ‘Do you think she needs to go to the hospital?’

  ‘No,’ said Viv, standing up and taking a bag of frozen peas from the freezer before wrapping it in a tea towel and gently holding it to Shanaya’s head. ‘They’re tough little things.’

  ‘She does need another bath. She slipped in her sister’s wee.’ Priya couldn’t help but smile.

  Viv started to chuckle. ‘She had a wee accident.’ Laughter brewed in Priya’s chest and soon both the sisters were laughing on the wet floor, unable to stop.

  The twins were bathed again and put to bed. Priya changed into some of her sister’s fresh clothes, cleaned the kitchen, then put the kettle on, eager to talk. Viv’s eyes were drooping and Priya realised how desperately tired Viv was, and how much she needed sleep. She hugged her sister and said she would call her in the morning. Then she got into her car and, without really meaning to, found herself driving towards Chippendale.

  The twins had momentarily distracted her from her rage, but now, as she drove through the empty streets, it was returning. Her evening of chaos and laughter was what the couple in Glebe had denied her. The black cloud of loneliness that pervaded her life was the result of their secrecy. She pulled over to the side of the road and sent a quick text. Okay if I come over? Just for a chat.

  A reply came seconds later: Sure.

  Nick sent another text with his address.

  She arrived a few minutes later and made her way nervously up the path. Nick’s new home had none of the hand-rendered hallmarks of their old house. It was a modern unit comprised of white surfaces and a courtyard full of ferns for Jacker. The thought of the mutt being confined to the sunless void made Priya unaccountably sad.

  ‘It’s not my style but it’s a rental, so what can you do?’ Nick shrugged after giving her a brief tour. He took her to the galley kitchen. ‘I wasn’t expecting company. All I have is beer.’

  ‘Beer’s great.’ Priya took the can he offered and rolled it in her hands. She was nervous and unsure why she had come. The beer slipped out of her grip and rolled across the tiles. Nick bent and caught it.

  ‘I’m going to speak to a lawyer,’ she said.

  ‘That’s good,’ he smiled. ‘What changed your mind?’

  She frowned. ‘At first I felt sorry for them. But they knew. They knew, Nick, and they tried to hide it. You should see him, he’s so perfect. But he looks nothing like them. He looks like me. And the woman, she’s dyed her hair. She’s blonde but she’s put this terrible witchy black dye through it so that it’s not as obvious that he’s not her son. I can’t leave my baby with people like that.’

  ‘Wait, you saw him?’

  She froze. ‘Um, I—’

  ‘Careful, Pri. What if they’d caught you snooping?’

  ‘I wasn’t snooping. I was just …’

  He raised his eyebrows but his expression was not unkind.

  ‘I wanted to know why they ignored my letter. I wanted to see what kind of people they are.’ She raked her hands through her hair. ‘Once I saw them, I woke up.’

  He placed a hand on her arm. ‘I’ll come with you if you want, when you go to speak to the lawyer.’

  Priya didn’t say anything.

  ‘Speaking to a professional can help you get perspective.’ He paused. ‘My therapist has been really helping.’

  ‘You’ve been seeing a therapist?’

  He nodded. ‘I know what I did was wrong. I was making excuses for a long time. But I realise now that I don’t want to make the same mistake again. I can’t accept that I can’t change and I know it’s up to me to do something about it.’

  ‘Nick, that’s … I’m impressed.’

  ‘We have to take responsibility for our own choices,’ Nick said. ‘But that doesn’t mean we have to do it alone.’

  Two days later, Priya was sitting on a chair opposite a large mahogany desk. The lawyer, Estelle Forlani, came highly recommended by Priya’s boss, who had been through two complicated divorces.

  ‘She’s one of the best in the game. A real shark,’ he had said, handing Priya a card.

  Estelle’s fingers and earlobes were crowded with gems. Her hair was white and her eyebrows drawn on in ink. She was twice divorced herself, Priya’s boss had told her, and each time she took her spouse to the cleaners.

  ‘Tell me, Ms Laghari,’ the formidable woman said, resting her cigarette on a gold ashtray, ‘what can we do for you?’

  Priya sat up straight and in a firm, clear voice said: ‘I’d like to sue the Empona fertility clinic for malpractice. I’d like to take them for everything they’ve got. And I want to seek a court order demanding a DNA test of the child that was born to this couple.’ She pulled an envelope from her handbag and handed it to the lawyer. ‘If it shows there’s a match with me, I want to sue them too. I want to sue them for custody of my son.’

  Thirty-four

  Ashley wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her arm. She felt like she was in a prison of her own making, but instead of bars and guards, it was glass that contained her and customers with tongs that she had to watch out for.

  She clasped her own tongs, her eye on the last brioche as stale airplane passengers in rumpled clothes shuffled forward in the bakery line. Ashley fanned herself with her airport map, inching closer to the bun. She stepped forward and lunged at it, smiling at the little victory as she deposited it on her tray.

  In the nine hours since the ash cloud had grounded all flights, Kuala Lumpur airport had become unbearably crowded. Every few minutes a crackling, high-pitched announcement screeched from the PA system. There was no corner of the airport the noise didn’t reach. Ashley knew because since she’d been trapped there, she’d explored every inch of the terminal.

  Her phone rang. ‘It still hasn’t cleared?’ her mother asked.

  ‘No,’ she said, paying for her brioche. ‘And they can’t tell us when it will.’

  Ashley found herself a plastic chair in the dining area crammed with commuters, their faces shiny and unwashed, to eat her roll and allay her mother’s fears.

  ‘Come home,’ said the voice on the phone.

  ‘I can’t. I have to get away.’ She took a
desolate bite of her bun, all pleasure in the triumph of securing it gone. ‘In nine years, I’ve never taken a breather. Not since high school finished.’

  She had gone straight into med school, competing for the best placements. Empona was go, go, go. What she was saying to her mother was true. She wasn’t revealing the whole truth, but it wasn’t a complete lie.

  ‘I need some time to recalibrate. I need to go somewhere hot, with no phones.’

  ‘I don’t understand, Ashley. Why won’t you tell me what happened to make you quit? It’s so unlike you.’

  Ashley didn’t want to worry her mother. She would be fine. She just needed time to think. She needed to figure out what to do next. She had done possibly the first impulsive thing in her life: booked a one-way flight to Sri Lanka.

  ‘I’m just burnt out, that’s all. And Empona wasn’t taking proper care. Despite its elite reputation, that place was understaffed and overbooked. No wonder they …’ She stopped herself. ‘I mean, how do they think they can retain staff in those sorts of conditions.’

  She had been poised to send all the photos and documents she had to the Health Complaints Commissioner when she stopped and reflected on what she’d done. Empona needed to be investigated, but she was concerned about the damage her revelation had already caused. She had been emotional. Reckless. She knew the truth had to come out, but she’d handled it the wrong way, and she was sorry. If she hadn’t blurted the information to Priya Laghari, the Ardens might have had a chance of at least some sort of relationship with their boy. Now she had set in motion a chain of events that could mean they would lose their son completely. She had been rash, and she didn’t want to make the same mistake again, so she was fleeing to clear her head. She was in possession of some powerful evidence and she didn’t want to make another mistake.