Chosen (31 page)

‘I've missed you,' I said.

She pulled a face and stepped away.

‘What about a cup of tea?' I said.

She turned and put the kettle on. ‘What do you want?'

‘Just to visit, to see you, to hear how Dodie is.'

Adam was standing looking at his feet and I tried to sound normal, cheerful, to inject a bit of warmth into the place, if only with my voice.

He wanted me to ask her: sister to sister. I'd only agreed because I knew she'd say no to this charade. She'd laugh in my face. And I'd comfort Adam in his disappointment. We'd return to Soul-Life and wait for a new dream to tell us how to proceed. What else could we do? We could hardly force her.

Stella poured the tea and carried it through into the dining room where a puzzle – the
Mona Lisa
– had been started on the rosewood table. The table was polished to a deep and layered gleam. I looked down at it, beyond my reflection, and it did seem as if you could travel miles down there into a warm and rosy world.

There was no sign that a teenager lived here. Everything was immaculate and just as it had been fifteen years before, only more worn from all the scrubbing. The only thing of beauty was the table – and Stella still, when she turned her head or when in a certain light a little shock of loveliness spilled out between the lines. I'd grown heavy, my hair hacked off in its institutional cut. I'd seen in the hotel mirror how middle-aged I looked, though I too was only in my thirties.

‘The Lord has sent us here for a purpose,' Adam said.

‘So much for small talk.' Stella cackled. There was a silence, then: ‘You're not getting your hands on Dodie,' she said, narrowing her eyes.

‘Your sister will speak to you, while I . . . perhaps I'll step out into the garden,' Adam said.

‘He looks like shit,' Stella remarked. And then, after a long awkward silence, ‘Well?' And when I didn't answer, she snorted. ‘I suppose he had a dream?'

‘How
is
Dodie?' I said.

‘She's strong,' she said. ‘She's doing well at school. She's
normal
,' she added, a trace of pride in her voice.

‘I'd love to see her,' I said.

She shook her head. ‘She's forgotten all about you.'

‘What?'

‘You're never mentioned.'

‘Not even by Aunt Regina?'

‘No. We stopped mentioning you when you went off and left her,' she said. ‘Aunt Regina thought it best.'

‘I didn't leave her! I only went away because you wouldn't let me see her!' I couldn't believe that Stella thought that. Did she really think it? I felt sick.

Smiling to herself, Stella picked up a piece of chin and fitted it in the puzzle. ‘So. Tell me about the dream, then.'

I told her what Adam claimed Jesus wanted from her and she stared. Her mouth opened and closed and nothing came out at first, and then a splintered laugh.

‘You're asking me to fuck that old git?'

‘I knew you'd say no,' I said.

‘He killed my last baby, now he wants me to have another?'

‘It's not
about
that,' I said, and couldn't prevent myself from adding: ‘She might have died anyway.'

She made a tiny gasping sound. ‘But not
Ross
.' Her eyes were huge, the pupils flared.

‘Oh, Stell. You still miss him?'

She shook her head in disbelief then, frowning, rolled herself a spliff. She inhaled and blew out smoke, head on one side. She offered it to me, but I shook my head.

She smirked. ‘All right then,' she said, at last.

I stared at her. ‘
What?
'

‘If he pays me enough,' she said.

‘No.'

She licked her lips, breathed in smoke, took a sip of tea, wiped her mouth on her sleeve before she breathed it out again. ‘Ah,' she said, ‘I get it. I'm meant to refuse?'

Adam came into the room at that moment. ‘The answer's yes,' she said, before I could intervene. ‘And it's the middle of the month. So come on.' She stubbed out her spliff and stood up. ‘You can get on with the puzzle,' she said to me. ‘Unless you want to watch?'

†

We flew back to New York a week later. There had been several opportunities for conception. I couldn't speak to, or even look
at Adam, certainly not touch him. It wasn't until we were back among the Brethren that my repulsion began to fade. It was only sex, after all. I was dubious that it would work, but Adam had complete faith that Stella had conceived. He'd written her a contract, saying that on proof of pregnancy he would double the allowance he paid her every month, and that if she bore him a son he would give her twenty thousand pounds when she handed him over. I thought that even if she did conceive, she might refuse to give us the child. And what if it was a girl? Of course, I pointed these things out to Adam but he looked at me in that way he had, as if I was naïve. His faith that it would all work out was absolute. He asked Stella to write as soon as she knew. And special prayers were made at Soul-Life for a son for Adam.

Adam's plan was that as soon as we knew for sure that his son was on the way,
I
would pretend to be pregnant. What was the need for the deception, you might wonder? I didn't like it myself, but Adam said it would be difficult to explain to the Brothers and Sisters how another woman had come to bear his child, especially since sexual continence was a Soul-Life requirement. The miracle of the conception after all these years would be a source of rejoicing, an injection of energy, something that, since Adam had been unwell, had seeped away.

There was no word from Stella for over a month. Naturally, I thought it hadn't worked and I admit I was relieved. Not that I didn't crave a child in my arms again. Adam spent his days in prayer, puzzled by the lack of news, niggling away at Jesus, I'm sure – but there was no sign, no heron, not even a significant dream.

And then one day the letter arrived. He breathed out as he read it, then fell to his knees in prayer. The baby was due on the eighth of October. Adam had Obadiah seek legal advice. Adoption and surrogacy papers were drawn up. To my surprise, Stella signed and returned everything that Adam sent her.

And Adam recovered. Perhaps it was the glad tidings, or perhaps – I wondered then – it hadn't been cancer after
all, but an infection that had, of its own accord, eventually cleared up. Naturally, Adam pronounced it a miracle. The lump didn't go away, but it got no bigger and he felt fine, though we were no longer intimate, and this I missed. The last semen that he shed he shed in Stella. I tried not to dwell on that. And I argued against the end of sex. How could God mind us expressing our love in the beautiful, physical way? But Adam was decided. Now the son was on his way there was no longer any need for fornication.

†

Stella wrote to us monthly with news of her progress. The pregnancy was normal; the scans confirmed the due date of the birth. In late September, Adam and I flew to the UK and returned to the same hotel. It was a relief to drop my padding; there was no need for pretence away from Soul-Life. I phoned Stella. She told us not to come to the house. She didn't want to see us. She would keep to the bargain only if we stayed away.

We visited the lawyer Obadiah had found us, the only one he could find prepared to do this work – and he was uncomfortable with the situation. His name was Colin and he was beige all over – hair, skin, eyes and even teeth. ‘It's most irregular,' he said, riffling through the papers and frowning. ‘I've never dealt with a case like this.'

‘Yet it's perfectly legal,' Adam insisted. ‘I am the child's father and our surrogate is in full agreement.'

Colin grimaced and sucked spit through his teeth. ‘I've yet to be convinced of that,' he said.

There was nothing for us to do but wait. We phoned Stella each morning, but didn't know what else to do with ourselves besides meditation and prayer. Adam was waiting for guidance and had taken to sitting by the lake in the park, hoping to see a heron. The tension between us was intolerable and we sniped at each other for the first time ever. While he was seeking herons, I shopped for baby things, just enough to see us through until we got home:
a packet of newborn nappies, some Babygros, a Moses basket, bottle and infant formula.

The baby was late. A week after the due date I dared to mention this to Stella.

‘It's in God's hands,' she said, which I knew was aimed at riling me.

‘We need to see you,' I said.

‘I told you no.'

‘But how do we even know you're really pregnant?' I said. Adam darted me a startled look. ‘Maybe you've been stringing us along.'

I heard her breath suck in.

‘Just let us see you.' I softened my voice. ‘I'd like to see you, you
are
still my sister.'

‘All right then,' she said, ‘but not while Dodie's home. I don't want her seeing you. I don't want her tainted by this.'

‘Tainted!' I said. ‘
Tainted!
'

She waited for me to quieten down, and told us when to come. Adam and I sat in the car waiting to see you leave. You came out of the gate and I held my breath. I soaked you up with my eyes in those few seconds. Your messy black hair tumbled right down to your slim, black-clad waist, and even though it looked as if you'd tried to whiten your cheeks, they were still rosy, and your eyes, under their glossy black brows, were that strong deep blue. You looked like Stella, yes, but stronger, more vital and vivid. We both watched you walk along the street with your special graceful gait.

‘Beautiful,' I said. I looked at Adam and his face was illegible, but there was an extra brightness to his eyes. And then he closed them and shut me out. We got out of the car and went round to the back of the house. We knocked and, after checking us through the window, Stella came to the door.

She was almost unrecognizably spherical. It wasn't just the pregnancy but all of her; the calves showing under the dressing gown were like fat white skittles.

‘Can I?' Adam raised his hand. He wanted to touch her belly, to touch through her fat, his son. She held onto the
door jamb and came down one step. She looked away, and flinched as Adam put his hand on the mound stretched under her dressing gown.

‘Satisfied?' she said.

‘Well, you certainly are up the spout!' I said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. ‘It's lovely to see you, Stell.' I reached forward to hug her but was chilled by the look in her eyes. She gave a mirthless laugh.

‘Likewise,' she said. ‘I'll let you know when it's born.' And then she hauled herself back up the step and shut the door.

Three days later we got the call. Stella had given birth to a son, seven pounds, seven ounces, at six-thirty a.m. Although it was expected, the news hit me like a thud between the ribs, leaving me winded. Adam sank immediately to his knees and I kneeled too and watched through my eyelashes the tears of joy that trickled down his face.

†

Colin's BMW was already parked outside the house when we arrived – and there was also a muddy Land Rover, which I guessed was Aunt Regina's. She shouldn't have been there. That wasn't the arrangement. She shouldn't have been involved.

Adam was trembling. I took his hand and my thumb sank into the soft depression where his should be. Colin got out of his car. ‘Let me reiterate that I'm not entirely comfortable with this,' he said. ‘I'll need to see the mother and make sure she's clear in her intention.'

‘Naturally,' Adam said. We went through the squeaky gate to the front door. The cardboard box from a cot mobile was squashed up against the wall. I saw Adam register it, and Colin too. Aunt Regina opened the door. Despite the fact that she shouldn't be there, I felt a sudden gust of fondness and hugged her hard. ‘Melanie,' she said. She held me away from her to take a proper look. ‘Don't you look lovely?' she said kindly. My hair was speckled with grey, and I was
overweight, and in Soul-Life, as you know, we don't pluck our chins or eyebrows or use make-up. Lovely was not the word for how I looked. We hugged again.

She'd shrunk a little but seemed otherwise unchanged. Her glasses had rainbow frames and she was wearing a V-necked vest that showed the brown leathery creases on her chest. ‘Adam.' Aunt Regina nodded unsmilingly at him. ‘And?' She looked at Colin.

‘Our lawyer,' Adam said.

Aunt Regina sighed. ‘You'd best come in,' she said.

We all went through into the dining room. Kathy was standing with her hands on her hips, glaring. Her eyebrows were white now, and more wirily wild than ever.

‘Is Dodie here?' I asked.

‘She's at school,' Aunt Regina said. ‘Can we have a moment, dear?'

‘Can I see Stella and the baby?'

‘That's just it,' Aunt Regina said, ‘I'm afraid she doesn't want to see you.'

‘She told us to send you packing,' added Kathy.

‘She can't do that,' Adam said. In my bag was the suit I was to take the baby home in. I saw a bottle sterilizer on the draining board. ‘Can she?' He turned to Colin, who was hovering on the threshold looking uncomfortable.

‘She can,' he said.

‘But she signed papers.'

‘Papers mean diddly-squat when it comes to a situation like this.'

‘To try and buy your sister's child!' Aunt Regina gave me a look of outraged disappointment. ‘You should be ashamed of yourself.'

‘It's not
like
that,' I said, although I shrank inside. ‘It was always going to be ours. Adam's, I mean. He
is
the father.'

‘The less said about the ways and means the better,' Kathy said darkly.

‘Ho hum. Well, I'll be on my way,' Colin said. ‘You'll get my bill.' The door banged shut behind him. Adam pushed past Aunt Regina and up the stairs. I ran after him. Stella
had been asleep but she woke when we came in. The baby was in a basket beside her on the bed. Stella's face was ashen and her greasy hair tied back. She gave a tired, triumphant smile.