Replica - Mystery Mother Part 11

"Amy, that woman's a wacko!"

"Don't talk about my mother like that!" Amy cried out. "She's not a wacko!"

"She's not your mother!" Eric yelled back, but his voice was more distant now. Camilla was taking the mobile phone out of Amy's hand, and she clicked the disconnect b.u.t.ton.

"You see what I mean, Amy?" she said sadly. "Boys . . . men. They can't be trusted. Now he'll force his sister to tell him where you are, and he'll tell Nancy."

She was probably right. When Eric thought he knew best, he could be awfully bossy. "I guess we'd better go," Amy said.

Camilla readily agreed. She paid the check, and then she took Amy's hand. Amy felt a little silly and childish, holding hands like that, but she didn't pull away. And she let Camilla lead her swiftly back to the bright blue sports car.

12.

"Eric's not really that bad," Amy told Camilla as they sped down the freeway. "But he can get kind of macho sometimes. I think it's hard on him, having me as a girlfriend. Because I'm stronger than he is, you know? Once, when he sprained his ankle, I had to carry him on my back."

Camilla didn't respond. Her eyes were on the road, and Amy had to be grateful for that since they were going awfully fast. Amy sank back in the luxurious leather seat and said no more so Camilla could concentrate on driving. Neither of them spoke again until Camilla pulled into the underground parking lot of her high-rise building.

"Once Eric meets you, he'll feel a lot better about our being together," Amy said. "And when you get to know him, you'll like him too."

"I don't think that's going to happen, Laura," Camilla said.

"Sure it will," Amy insisted. "He's really not like most guys. He's a lot more sensitive."

Camilla laughed. "No, darling, what I'm saying is that I probably won't ever meet him." They were getting into the elevator, and Amy looked at her in dismay.

"What do you mean?"

"I think we should leave Los Angeles, Laura."

"Leave Los Angeles?" Amy was aware of sounding like a parrot, but she couldn't think of anything else to say.

They reached their floor, and Camilla unlocked the apartment door. "It's not safe for us here. Too many men who want to take you away from me. Eric. James . . ."

"Eric's not a man," Amy said. "And James . . . you mean Dr. J? He's dead!"

Camilla laughed. "I know that, darling. Don't mind me, I'm just thinking out loud." She took Amy's hand and pulled her to the sofa, where they sat side by side.

"We need to make a new life together, Laura, and we can't do it here. There are too many memories, too many people from our past. We have to make a fresh start. We need to go someplace where no one knows us, where they can accept us as mother and daughter."

Amy looked at her in bewilderment. "But - what about school?"

"There are schools everywhere, Laura."

She was right, of course. But Amy was still in a state of shock. She wanted to stay with Camilla, and she knew this would mean making a lot of changes in her life. But to move away from Los Angeles, from her school and her friends, and everything she knew . . .

"When do you want to move?" she asked.

"Now."

Amy caught her breath. "Now?"

Camilla smiled. "Not right this minute, darling. You didn't tell anyone where I live, did you?"

"No. I didn't know your address till you brought me here."

"And you didn't tell your friends just now on the phone," Camilla said. "What about Nancy?"

"I never talked to Nancy," Amy told her. "The line was busy. Maybe I should call her again."

"We need to pack," Camilla said. "Let's pack tonight and leave first thing in the morning, okay? You can call Nancy just before we leave, to say goodbye. Your friends too, of course."

Amy stared at her, unable to speak.

"We'll get a good night's sleep and take off bright and early," Camilla said.

"Where are we going?" Amy asked.

"I'm not sure," Camilla said pensively. Then she brightened. "We'll be vagabonds! You and me, we'll roam the world together. How does that sound?"

Amy was still speechless. Camilla took her hand.

"Darling, I know this all sounds shocking. But can't you see it's the best way for us? The only way? If we're going to have a future together, we have to get away from everything and everyone who's ever come between us. Do you understand that?"

Amy wasn't sure.

"I love to travel," Camilla said. "Have you ever been to the Grand Canyon?"

"No."

"It's breathtaking. The colors in the Southwest are like nothing you've ever seen before. The Petrified Forest, the Painted Desert - "

"What about school?"

"Travel is education," Camilla stated firmly. "You don't need a regular school like ordinary children. You're so special, you should be living like a special person. Oh, Laura, there's so much I could show you! Wouldn't you like to see Rome? London? Paris?"

"I know a little French," Amy ventured.

"Then we'll go to Paris first," Camilla declared. "You're going to love Paris! The grand boulevards, the cafes . . . We'll go to the top of the Eiffel Tower, and we'll take a boat ride down the Seine at night . . . would you like that?"

"Sure," Amy said, trying to take all this in.

"We'll roam the world, you and I. No one will ever separate us again. Never. We will be together forever."

Amy's head was spinning. She'd never heard talk like this before. But then, she'd never been loved like this before.

"Let's start packing," Camilla urged. "Right now!"

Amy nodded toward the little suitcase she'd dropped on the floor just hours earlier. "I'm already packed."

"Then you can help me pack," Camilla said. She took Amy to a bedroom, where she opened a closet and pulled out a suitcase. She began opening dresser drawers.

"Of course, I don't need everything, I can buy new clothes," she said. It sounded like she was talking more to herself than to Amy.

Doesn't she have a job? Amy wondered for the first time. Doesn't she have any ties that would keep her from leaving Los Angeles on a whim, just like that? What about this apartment? What about her friends?

Clearly, Camilla wasn't thinking about these things. She pulled clothes out of the drawers and threw them on the bed. "Put these in the suitcase for me, Laura. No, wait, vagabonds don't need pantyhose. Oh, we're going to have so much fun! Let's not even wait for the morning. Let's leave tonight!"

Her mood was catching. And suddenly Amy began to feel like a vagabond too.

"Can we go to New Orleans?" she asked. "I saw a movie about New Orleans once."

"We'll be in New Orleans for Mardi Gras," Camilla said. "And we'll go to Brazil for Carnival! How about that?"

"It sounds like fun," Amy agreed. She could see herself buying postcards for Tasha and Eric, for Nancy, too, and mailing them from all over the world. And someday, once she and Camilla had bonded and felt like a real mother and daughter, they could come back, and Camilla could meet them all, and they could all be friends.

Amy stopped in the middle of folding a sweater. "Isn't that the doorbell?"

"No," Camilla said. She was in the closet now, picking out the shoes she wanted to pack.

But Amy heard the ringing again, loud and clear. "Someone's at the door, Camilla." She started out of the bedroom.

"No!" Camilla cried out, following her.

The ringing was persistent. "Who is it?" Amy called.

"Amy, it's me, it's your mother."

Camilla was just behind her. "She's not your mother!"

"I know," Amy said. "I know." She turned and faced Camilla earnestly. "But she tried to be my mother for twelve years. I have to see her. Don't worry, she won't make a terrible fuss, she's not like that."

Camilla sighed and nodded. Amy went to the door and opened it. Nancy stood there, pale but calm.

Amy stepped aside so she could come in. She was surprised to see that Nancy was not alone. Mary Jaleski came in behind her.

Amy heard Camilla make a choking sound.

"h.e.l.lo, Camilla," Mary said in a pleasant voice. "It's been a long time." From her tone, they could have been b.u.mping into each other in a supermarket aisle.

Amy stepped back to stand alongside Camilla. Her eyes darted back and forth between Nancy and Mary.

"I'm not going back with you," she told Nancy.

"I can't force you to come back," Nancy said. "But I want you to hear what Mary has to say."

"You," Camilla said to Mary, and it was as if she spit out the word. "You are your father's daughter. Do you think you're going to take my baby away from me again in his name?"

Mary spoke gently. "My father didn't take anyone away from you, Camilla."

"Oh no?" Camilla challenged her. "Then why have I had to spend twelve years searching for my daughter?"

"Your daughter doesn't exist," Mary said. "Your daughter's dead."

"Come here, Laura," Camilla demanded, and Amy drew closer to her. She felt Camilla's arm around her shoulders, holding her tightly. "Look at her," Camilla said to Mary. "She's alive. Your father, the other doctor, that stupid psychologist, all of them, they tried to make me think she died, but I never believed them, never."

Amy looked at her in puzzlement. "What is Mary talking about?"

"It's nothing, don't listen to her, Laura," Camilla urged.

"That's not Laura, Camilla," Mary said. "Laura died three days after she was born."

Camilla hugged Amy more tightly. "That's what they told me. But it wasn't true. How could she die? She was perfect."

Mary spoke sadly. "You know why Laura died, Camilla."

Amy was watching Camilla's eyes. They were blank Nancy spoke. "Camilla was a drug addict, Amy. Dr. Jaleski tried to get her to stop taking drugs while she was pregnant, but she couldn't. When her daughter was born . . ." Her voice trailed off as if it was too painful to go on.

"Her child was severely damaged," Mary told Amy. "She couldn't survive."

"That's not true!" Camilla shrieked. "She was perfect! Your father was evil. He wanted me to think she died so he could do his experiments on her!"

Amy was completely bewildered. "That's not what you told me," she said to Camilla. "You said he divorced you and took custody of me."

Mary looked at Camilla with sympathy and compa.s.sion. "You had to tell yourself that, didn't you? Because you felt so guilty. You thought the drugs had destroyed your baby."

"Not true, not true, not true," Camilla chanted. "The drugs, they made her perfect, that's why he wanted to keep her, that's why he took her away."

Nancy turned to Amy. "Dr. Jaleski felt awful about what happened. He always thought he could have stopped Camilla from taking drugs if he'd been home more and not working at the laboratory so much. And the guilt was too much for Camilla. She had a complete breakdown, and she was committed to a psychiatric hospital. You've been in and out of hospitals ever since, haven't you, Camilla?"

Camilla laughed. "Psychiatrists, psychologists, they're all idiots, they don't know a thing. They kept telling me to accept that my daughter was dead. But I wouldn't. And I was right, because here she is!" She pulled Amy around so they were facing each other. "Don't listen to them, Laura. Your father was an evil man! He's the one who was crazy, not me!"

Mary continued to speak in a low voice. "You knew my father, Amy. You know he wasn't evil. In fact, even after they were divorced, he continued to support Camilla. In his will, he left her enough money so she could always be cared for."

Nancy drew closer. "That's how I found out where you were, Amy. Mary called me. She was concerned when you asked her about Camilla. And she had Camilla's address, because the checks from her father's estate go to Camilla every month." She was speaking softly too, as if she was trying to keep Camilla from hearing what she said.

Amy looked up into Camilla's face and realized that their efforts weren't necessary. Camilla wasn't hearing anything they said. There was a glaze over her eyes.

"Camilla?" Amy whispered. "Mom?"

Suddenly Camilla's arms tightened even closer around Amy. For such a small, delicate woman, she was surprisingly strong. "Get out of here," she said through her teeth. "Get out of here and leave us alone!" She started to move backward, pulling Amy with her.