Steal My Sunshine Part 18

*Mum, it's okay.'

She caught her breath and I could see the effort it took for her to pull herself together. Then she squeezed my arm to bring me closer, a little uncertainly, as if she'd forgotten the rules for her and me.

*We're fine, Mum.'

She nodded and took some more deep breaths, and it felt good to watch her calm down because of something I'd said.

Unlike a lot of other times, I wasn't going to make Mum work any harder to get close to me again. I wasn't going to make her explain why she'd shut me out. All I wanted was for this horrible part of my life to be over. For the first time, that goal was more important than the things that used to get in the way, like pride and hurt and thinking that she loved Sam more.

*Where've you been?' she said.

*With Essie. Don't get mad.'

Mum sighed, exhausted. *I'm not. There's some headache pills next to my bed, can you get me a couple?'

I went to get them, wondering how Mum would take Essie's story. It felt like a huge risk to tell her but an even bigger one to keep it secret. Essie and her past would always be wedged between us.

Down the side of her bed was the package that had arrived the day after Dad had left, the one Sam and I had fought over at the front door. She still hadn't opened it.

*Do you want to know what's inside?'

*Mum, you made me jump.'

She sat heavily on the bed and took the pills I gave her. *It's a book.'

I laughed softly. *I can see that, Mum.'

*It's about finding yourself.'

I guessed it was something Margot had recommended to go along with making pots and sniffing lavender. *Why haven't you opened it?'

*Because I'm scared of what I'll find. You open it.'

I sat next to her, and while I pulled the cardboard apart, she stroked my hair.

*Trace Your Roots with DNA,' I read out loud. *Why do you need this, Mum? Is it about finding Grandpa?'

She held my hand. *I don't have the same DNA as Grandpa.'

*Oh G.o.d, I didn't know.'

*Or Essie.'

There was a stillness and silence between us like the split-second a firework bursts. *What? What do you mean? Of course you do.'

She shook her head. *No, I'm not hers.'

*But . . . how? Mum, she told me Grandpa had wanted a baby and they'd had one in the end. And that was you.'

The doorbell rang.

*That'll be your dad,' she said.

My heart skipped. *Here? Why?'

*Just to get some more things.'

Mum cleared away some tissues. She looked in the mirror and tried to comb out her hair with her fingers.

I stayed put, nervous about seeing my own dad, but more than that, feeling like my thoughts were a broken spider's web a" all the pieces of history that had been carefully strung out, swept away with one revelation.

As soon as Dad walked in I burst into tears. His lovely, kind face, the lines on his forehead that curved all the way around to his temples like he carried every single worry of our family right there, his dad-jeans with the shirt tucked in. I ran over and put my arms around him. He didn't push me away even when I'd finished crying a" he never did.

*Dad, why did you have to leave?' I said. Over his shoulder, Mum looked worried, and I felt bad for acting like such a kid. *Sorry, I just want to know what happened. Was it something to do with Essie?'

Mum walked away but she didn't seem angry or anxious, more like she was giving us s.p.a.ce. Dad guided me over to their bed, where we sat close and he held my hands. *It was lots of things,' he said, tucking my hair behind my ear *We tried really hard, Hannah. Neither of us wanted this.'

*Then why?'

*I've tried to understand your mother for years but I'm a simple man, what can I say?' He was trying to make light of it. This was always his way and maybe it was why we'd always been close. He wanted to believe that life was simple and funny and light, and that's how he'd made me feel. Full of hope, no matter what. Without him, I'd sunk to the bottom of every day like a stone.

*Don't say that, Dad. That's not fair.'

*It's fair,' said Mum, who'd returned without me noticing. She was holding the book. Mum sat on the floor opposite me and Dad, and handed the book to him.

*You're doing it then?' he said.

*Finally.'

A look pa.s.sed between them; the kindest look I'd seen them exchange for months, maybe even years.

*Mum, I still don't get it,' I said. *How can you not be Essie's? Why don't you just ask Essie where you came from?'

*I only found out because we wanted to register Sam's birth. I needed my birth certificate. I'd only ever had a short version a" very few details. It turned out to be a fake. Don't ask me how Essie had managed to get away without having one for me all those years, but she did. Until then. She said if I tried to find out the whole story I'd regret it. She also told me my dad would leave if I didn't keep it to myself, and she was right, he did. I never saw him again.

*I thought maybe they'd adopted me from a rape victim or a prost.i.tute a" something society would find shameful. But it didn't make sense when my dad left, as if it had been a total shock to him. Then I was scared to find out.

*I didn't see Essie after that. Not until you were a year old and I had an attack of family again. She was all I had. I've been back and forth from Essie so many times I've lost count.'

I didn't know what to say. It explained some things and made everything else even more confused. Who was Mum? Who were we?

*You've been going there a lot, haven't you?' said Mum.

*A bit.'

*And did she tell you about Connie? And about how she got to Australia a" all that?'

*Yes, but she told me it was a secret.'

*It was for a long time. I only got it out of her after I promised she could see you and Sam more often.'

So Essie had swapped secrets for other rewards too.

*But why did you leave, Dad?' I said. *You should be here helping Mum, not abandoning her.'

Dad shifted in his seat. *It wasn't just that, it was lots of things; a whole marriage. It's not easy.' I knew he couldn't just come out with it so I looked at Mum.

*Essie wanted me to find Connie for her. She begged me for years. She tried manipulating me, she even tried to blackmail me. She was agoraphobic by then and she said I was keeping her prisoner. I was! Oh G.o.d,' Mum sighed as if she didn't have the energy to get angry any more. *She wouldn't help me find myself though. I don't even know when my real birthday is. Not that I've ever properly tried to find out.'

*Being the d.i.c.khead I am,' said Dad sheepishly, *I thought your mother was wrong not to help Essie find Connie and face up to her own roots. It was eating away at us.'

*But it wasn't just that,' Mum said, and flashed Dad a warning look. Then she softened again. *Marriages are complicated.'

*I get that,' I said, and pressed my lips together because I didn't want to cry again. *Mum, I think you should come with me.' I stood up and held out my hand.

*Where are we going?'

*I think we should go to Essie's. Just you and me.'

*What for? I can't go near her. It's too much, Hannah.' She looked terrified. It reminded me of all the times I'd been too scared to do something and Mum had held out her hand for me to hold onto.

*Mum, please just trust me.'

I could hardly believe it when she did. It was the first step in a plan I hadn't even mapped out properly. Maybe it was time to wing it.

Mum drove and I navigated. Even though she'd been on this route nearly every day since we'd moved away from the bay, her nerves were stopping her from thinking straight. But I could see a clear line from us to Essie. A dozen times Mum said she was going to turn round, that it was a stupid idea, but I managed to keep her on track.

The night was clear and I looked up to see if I could recognise Orion's belt, those three stars that looked close but were miles apart in the universe. Maybe what we were about to do would drive Essie, Mum and I even further apart.

The thought of Evan was still a stutter in my heart, but it was what he'd said about stories that I held on to now. We needed stories to survive a" we made them up just to get us through. But there was a truth behind Essie's story that needed to come out just so we could know which direction we were facing.

*What makes you think she'll tell us?' said Mum.

The inky sea had just come into view, and I thought of Sophie, cold and lost, perhaps forever. *I think Essie wants to. She has nothing to lose now, and something to gain.'

Mum looked at me like she really wanted to believe me, like it was some kind of comfort to have me in charge.

Essie called through the door. *Who is it?'

*It's Hannah.'

Her face was a picture of hope when she opened up, as if she'd expected me to be standing there with the baby from over the road. And when she saw Mum, all the expectation twisted into confusion.

*What's this?' she said.

The words would come if I let them. She looked more scared than I was. *Essie, I came for the rest of the story,' I said. *And Mum, too.'

*I don't know what you mean,' she said, but she turned around and walked inside, and I guided Mum in. She wouldn't look at Essie or me.

Essie sat in her chair, a drink and a burning cigarette in front of her. Mum stood by the window, looking at Essie's things; I think she wanted to be forgotten, to listen in and not have to do the asking.

*I know about Mum's birth certificate,' I said. *Essie, we need to know what happened.'

*Why?' she snapped.

I waited a moment, and thought of the compa.s.s Dad had left under my pillow. *You know your whole story, Essie. It might be painful but it's yours. Mum needs to know how she began.'

*And what if I don't even know that part?'

*But you do know something,' said Mum, loudly, as if she couldn't just stand on the outskirts any more.

*Essie, whatever it is, I promise I'll help you.'

Essie's face was a battle between fear and defiance, but I knew it was coming. Mum sat next to me and I held both her hands. This had been the real destination all along, it just wasn't marked on the map.

June 1960 I shouldn't be here but I didn't know where else to go. Not home. All I can think about is Malcolm's face when I walk back into the shop. His show of grief makes me sick to my stomach.

*Not again, my poor, poor Essie,' he'll say, breaking his own d.a.m.n heart. Yes, Malcolm, again. Again and again and again because my body won't carry another baby. Of course, he doesn't know Connie was mine. I try to tell him that it's no use in us trying but *You're young,' he says, and *we'll get there.'

I'm not young inside. I can't keep hold of a baby any more than he can keep his b.l.o.o.d.y endless feelings to himself.

*Can I help you, Madam?' says a nurse, so rushed off her feet she barely stops when she talks to me.

*It's all right, I know where I'm going,' I say. I don't add: I want to look at how it's done here. I want to see a woman like me cradling her newborn baby for the first time. To see what it's like to be a respected woman in this position, now that I have a husband and a business and no past. I want to know if that sight, and all the smells and high feelings, will flick a switch inside me so that my body stops turning my own babies away.

n.o.body minds my being here. I stand at the nurses station and watch as curtains are swished back and forth across the ten white beds by brisk nurses in starched uniforms. Ten miniature theatres all with their own story going on behind the curtain.

*Are you the almoner?'

*Pardon?'

*I'm Matron. I didn't think you could come at such short notice. She wasn't due for another two weeks but she's in the delivery room now and she's making a fuss so let's get on with it, shall we?'

She doesn't wait for an answer. Her tone makes all the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. She sounds like Sister. *Making a fuss' a" that's what Sister used to say when one of the girls was in pain. I follow her, struggling to keep up as she marches down the corridor. She speaks to me firmly but as if we're on the same side.

*We're quite sure she'll sign, but you'll need to have another word just to make sure. All being well, it'll be put in the babies room. We'll give the girl the usual, and once everything is signed off, you can take it. Is everything in order?'

There's a rush of adrenalin and that familiar ache between my legs all at once. I suddenly stop and have to steady myself with my hand against the wall.

*Are you quite well, Mrs . . .?'

Come on, Essie. Steel yourself. You know what they're doing, and why. Play along, I tell myself. *Pringle. I'm Mrs Pringle.' That fat cow would be dead by now. *Yes, I'm quite well, thank you. I forgot to eat breakfast and I've been rushed off my feet this morning. I do apologise, Matron.'

*I'll have someone bring you some tea, but we really have to hurry now.'

Matron leaves me outside the delivery room. The screams of a girl charge through every vein of my body as people come in and out of the room a" there must be twenty or so in there. So, this is how it's done. This is how it's still done. I get a glimpse of her face. She must be just a few years younger than me a" not a girl like I was. What did she do wrong?

I catch more glimpses of her. Momentary snapshots, not like watching a movie but like images from a View-Master, separate pictures clicking into view one after the other.