The Baby Snatchers (15 page)

The dark shadows and haunted look had all
but disappeared from Cynthia’s eyes and though a faint air of
sadness still surrounded her, the pleasure she’d enjoyed that
morning seemed to have worked some magic. A spark had returned that
had been missing since the death of her little Josephine. Cameron
would be relieved.

“How are you coping, living with your
brother?” she teased. “I hope he isn’t too tough on you. Big
brothers are renowned for it!”

A smile played around Cynthia’s lips. “Cam’s
been fantastic. I couldn’t ask for a better brother.” Her smile
faded and she eyed Georgie solemnly. “I… I don’t know what I would
have done if he hadn’t offered to let me stay. Thank you for
finding him.”

“No thanks are necessary, honey. I could
tell you needed some support. Having a baby, especially so young,
is tough. I made enquires about your brother’s whereabouts even
before I knew about…about Josephine’s death.”

A shadow passed over Cynthia’s face and
Georgie bit her tongue.
Was it too early to talk to the girl
about her loss?
Georgie was an experienced nurse and over the
years had counseled many patients, but she wasn’t a qualified
therapist. Perhaps she’d said too much.

“She was so tiny and so beautiful,” Cynthia
whispered.

Georgie breathed out a quiet sigh of relief.
“Yes, she was.” Reaching across the table, Georgie took Cynthia’s
hand. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Ava—she’s my psychiatrist—keeps telling me
to open up. She says the more I talk about Josephine and accept
what happened to her, the sooner I’ll find closure. Until then,
it’s like a constant ache, never going away. But sometimes I’m
afraid of closure… That I’ll forget her.” Tears filled the young
girl’s eyes.

Georgie’s heart stuttered. She tightened her
hold on Cynthia’s hand and cast around for the right words to ease
the teenager’s pain. “You’ll never forget her, I promise. And Ava’s
right, honey. Remember Josephine how she was. Celebrate her short
life. Remember how much you loved her. It’s impossible to
understand what happened and nobody has the answer. It was just one
of those things.”

“But why
my
baby?” Cynthia cried, her
sobs now falling in earnest. “Okay, I’m sixteen, homeless and her
father’s nowhere in sight, but I loved her with everything that I
had! I would have loved her until I died!”

Georgie pushed back her chair and went
around to Cynthia’s side. Cradling the girl against her, she gently
stroked Cynthia’s blond hair. The young woman continued to cry
softly and Georgie murmured mindless words of comfort. She agreed
wholeheartedly with Cynthia.
Dammit! It wasn’t fair.

At last, the sobs quieted and slowly Cynthia
pulled away. Georgie went back to her place and found a tissue in
her handbag and gave it to the girl. A waitress approached a little
uncertainly, holding a tray containing their order. Cynthia averted
her face and Georgie distracted the waitress by offering her a
bright, encouraging smile.

“That looks delicious!” she said.

“I have a chicken Caesar salad and a serving
of fish and chips.”

“Thank you,” Georgie said.

The waitress set the food down on the table
and then added, “I’ll be right back with the drinks.”

Georgie picked up her fork. From the corner
of her eye, she saw Cynthia reach for a french fry. Georgie’s
breath eased out. It was okay. Cynthia was going to be okay.

The waitress returned a moment later with a
coffee mug and a can of Diet Coke. “Here we go,” she said and put
the drinks in front of them. “Will there be anything else?”

Georgie shook her head. “I think we’re good,
thank you.” With a nod and a quick smile, the waitress
disappeared.

“How’s your fish?” Georgie asked a little
while later.

“It’s good,” Cynthia said quietly and then
looked up. Her eyes were red, but she stared at Georgie calmly.
“Thank you for not making a big scene. It’s embarrassing enough
that I blubbered in public. I appreciate that you didn’t make a big
deal of it.”

“Hey, it’s no problem. Besides, if you want
to cry in public, you go ahead and cry. I won’t let anybody stop
you.”

A tiny smile teased at the corners of
Cynthia’s lips. “You’re pretty cool, for an adult, Georgie.”

“You’re pretty cool, too, Cynthia. Don’t let
anyone tell you different.”

Cynthia’s smile widened and her expression
grew sly. “My brother’s pretty cool. And good-looking. And he has
this amazing car. Some kind of sports car that looks like it came
out of a movie where the hot guy gets the girl. He’s single, you
know.”

Heat crept up Georgie’s neck but she
steadfastly ignored her embarrassment. Laughing, she brushed away
Cynthia’s comments and reached for her mug.

“What? Don’t you think he’s good-looking?”
Cynthia replied in surprise.

Georgie swallowed a mouthful of coffee and
cleared her throat. “I-I guess so. I haven’t really thought about
it.”

Cynthia frowned. “What’s there to think
about? You’ve got eyes, haven’t you?”

This time, Georgie’s cheeks ignited and
there was no hiding her embarrassment.

Cynthia pounced. “You
do
think he’s
hot, don’t you? Or else you wouldn’t be looking at me like that! I
knew
it!”

Georgie fumbled around for something to say,
desperate to change the topic. “Oh, look! A ferry’s about to dock.
Don’t you just love the Sydney ferries? Did you know the first
commercial ferry service to cross Sydney Harbour was established in
1861? That’s a long time ago.”

Cynthia merely shook her head slowly back
and forth, a knowing expression on her face. The girl was wiser
than her years. “So, are you single?”

Coffee spluttered out of Georgie’s mouth and
she scrambled for a napkin. “Cynthia! You’re not supposed to ask me
questions like that! It… It’s impolite.”

The girl shrugged, unrepentant. A few
moments later, she spoke again. “So, are you?”

Georgie took a deep breath to reprimand the
teenager again and then gave up.
What did it matter if she
responded to the girl’s question?
“Yes, Cynthia. I’m
single.”

Cynthia smiled. “Cool. Are you seeing
anyone?”

Georgie’s eyes widened at the girl’s
audacity, but once again, she answered. “No, Cynthia, I’m not
seeing anyone.”

“Good.” The girl popped another french fry
into her mouth and chewed slowly. “So, how old are you? ’Cause you
act young, but you look kind of old.”

This time, Georgie laughed outright. “I’m
twenty-nine. To you, I’m sure it sounds ancient.”

Cynthia grinned back at her. “Nah. Not
really. Cam’s twenty-seven and even though he’s old, he doesn’t
seem like it. You know what I mean?”

Georgie nodded. “Oh, yeah. I know what you
mean.”

“Cam said I can stay with him for as long as
I want. He’s re-enrolled me in school. I like that he cares enough
about me and my education, but I don’t want to cramp his style. I
mean, he’s heading for thirty, right? He should find a girl and get
married. Isn’t that what people do when they get that old? He won’t
be able to bring a wife home with me living in the spare room. No
woman would want that.”

Though she spoke with confidence and
bravado, Georgie sensed the fear and uncertainty behind Cynthia’s
words. Her heart tightened at the thought the young girl wasn’t
sure how long Cam’s support would last, and her uncertainty about
the future. She sat forward and tried to find the words to reassure
her.

“Your brother loves you. I hardly know him,
but I can see how much he cares. He won’t ask you to leave and he
won’t let you leave until you’re ready. Until you’re old enough to
live on your own.”

“I’ve been living on my own for the past two
years,” Cynthia mumbled, her eyes downcast.

“And I’m guessing Cameron had no idea about
that.”

Cynthia nodded, but remained silent.

“Cynthia, listen to me. I made enquires
about your brother’s whereabouts the same afternoon your baby was
born. The very next morning, he was there, in the ward, asking for
you. Are those the actions of someone who doesn’t care, and care
deeply?”

“I know he cares, but for how long?”

Georgie stared at Cynthia’s bowed head.
“Have you spoken to Cameron about this?” she asked softly. The girl
continued to stare at her plate and shook her head.

“You need to, honey. You owe him that. Who
knows? You might be worrying about this for nothing. He might have
no intention of settling down and getting married. Or if he does,
that could be years away. People are getting married later and
later these days. You might even be living in an apartment of your
own by the time your brother makes the decision to marry or commit
to a live-in girlfriend.”

Cynthia lifted her head and stared at
Georgie with hope in her eyes. “Do you really think so? I have
nowhere else to go.”

“It’s possible. I don’t know him very well.
The best thing to do would be to talk to him about your fears and
let him reassure you. I’m certain he will. He loves you. He wants
to take care of you, at least until you’re old enough to take care
of yourself—and are able to.”

Cynthia appeared to consider Georgie’s words
and then nodded slowly in agreement. “I think you’re right.” She
flashed Georgie a relieved smile. “Thanks, Georgie. You’re the
best!”

They finished their meal and Georgie tried
hard not to think about the words of reassurance that had rolled so
easily off her tongue. Like she’d told Cynthia, it was very
possible Cameron might be one of those guys who wasn’t interested
in settling down. The thought was as depressing as hell. She
swallowed a sigh and finished her coffee. Cynthia chewed on her
last french fry.

“What are we doing after lunch?” the young
girl asked brightly, her earlier doldrums dissolved or
forgotten.

Georgie thought for a moment. She hadn’t
planned to spend the whole day with the teen, but she was enjoying
the young girl’s company and she couldn’t deny the pleasure she
felt at seeing Cynthia’s demeanor change from the sad and grieving
young mom to a girl who was acting more and more like a normal
teenager.

“We could go to the movies,” she suggested
and was immediately rewarded with a huge smile from Cynthia.

“
Yes
! I
love
the movies! It’s
been years since I’ve seen one!” She pushed back her chair and ran
around to Georgie’s side and threw her arms around her in an
awkward hug. “You really are the best, Georgie!”

Georgie accepted the young girl’s praise,
pleased that her suggestion had been met with so much enthusiasm.
Georgie was a movie-addict. Going to the cinema was her single,
most favorite thing to do. It was a rare time when she didn’t catch
at least one movie a week. Sometimes, she spent an entire day in
the movie complex. It was one of the reasons she’d made it to
twenty-nine without a serious boyfriend in tow. Her mother
frequently bemoaned the fact that she’d never find a suitable
partner while she was hiding out in the dark in a movie cinema.

Pushing away from the table, Georgie quickly
paid the bill and then linked her arm with Cynthia’s. Together,
they walked away from the café and up the street in the direction
of the train station that would take them to George Street, the hub
of the movie cinemas.

* * *

The phone in Cameron’s pocket vibrated
against his chest. Tugging it out, he checked the screen and
frowned at the display.
No Caller ID
. He answered the call
on the third ring.

“Detective Sergeant Dawson; can I help
you?”

“Detective, it’s Deborah Healy from the
Sydney Harbour Hospital.”

“Ms Healy. What can I do for you?”

“I’m calling about the figures I quoted you
the other day. The ones pertaining to the number of infant deaths
in the hospital over the past twelve months.”

“I take it you’re referring to the fifteen
deaths recorded in your database and not the two you had knowledge
of. How accurate was your official data?”

“Yes, well, I’ve had a chance to review all
fifteen files.” There was a pause. When the general manager spoke
again, her tone was grave. “I’m afraid the figures are
correct.”

Cameron absorbed the news calmly, although
he could hear the edge of panic in Deborah Healy’s voice. He didn’t
blame her. He’d never had anything to do with having babies or even
turned his mind to how many children were born in his city each
year, but the thought that more than one a month died at birth in
her hospital, seemed alarming. Most people would expect if they
gave birth in a hospital in Australia, going home with a healthy
baby was almost a certainty. It was apparent this wasn’t the case
at the Sydney Harbour Hospital.

“I want you to investigate this, Detective,
with all due haste. Every one of those deaths happened on Ward
Seven and every one of them had SIDS recorded as the cause of
death. It’s very clear something’s not right. Throw in the fact I
was kept in the dark about all but two of these deaths and I’m
afraid we have a serious problem.”

Deborah’s solemn announcement broke into
Cameron’s thoughts. His gut clenched. If the general manager was
asking him to look into the matter, things were definitely
off-base. Either that, or she was trying to head off something even
worse. He hadn’t forgotten that at least two of her once highly
respected doctors were now warming their butts in jail—and he was
sure she hadn’t forgotten, either.

“Who’s responsible for keeping you
informed?” he asked.

“There’s a chain of command, but it starts
at the ward level. Any incident involving serious injury or death
to a patient must be reported by the NUM of that ward.”

Cam grimaced. “How many levels of command
before it gets to you? How many people are we talking?”