The Secret Daughter (32 page)

She was a woman on her way towards peace.

When we’d finished with the albums we shared another sneaky piece of cake with yet another cup of tea. Our yawns were so frequent that they seemed to run into one another, and I knew we’d have to sleep soon, but I didn’t want to break the spell of the wonderful evening. Lilly seemed similarly torn.

‘We really need to go to bed,’ she said softly, and she glanced at me. ‘Pregnant women need their sleep.’

‘I’m exhausted. But it’s been such a great day, I don’t want it to end.’

‘You won’t leave early tomorrow, will you?’

‘No, we were thinking about going around lunchtime.’

She sighed a contented sigh, and I thought about how lovely Lilly Piper was to look at. She’d seemed weathered when I first arrived, but now I could see that the lines on her face were not
just
from a lifetime of sadness, but a lifetime of really
experiencing
life. Lilly truly was an open book, just like me.

‘One more lovely breakfast with you, then,’ she murmured with a smile.

I shook my head with fierce determination.

‘Not one more. One more this weekend, but one more of
many
, Lilly.’

‘I hope so,’ she whispered.

‘I
know
so,’ I whispered back.

When I crawled into bed beside Ted, the alarm clock on the bedside table said 4.03 a.m. I fell into a very deep, dreamless sleep, and when I woke the next morning, the sun was beaming through the windows. When I turned to the clock, I was startled to see it was almost 11 a.m.

I could hear laughter from the living areas, and so I dressed quickly and all but skipped down the hallway. The first person I saw when I stepped into the dining room was Neesa, sitting with her earphones in, staring at the table as she concentrated. She didn’t look up when I entered the room.

‘Kids these days, hey?’ I greeted Charlotte and Lilly, who were sitting opposite, flicking through the photo albums I’d given Lilly the previous afternoon. ‘Did Ted go home without me?’

‘He’s out helping James in the paddocks,’ Lilly told me. ‘And Neesa is listening to jazz.’

I grimaced and bent down low to catch Neesa’s gaze. Her eyes widened when she saw me and she pulled the earbuds from her ears.

‘Aunty Sabina, your music is
so
good.’

Aunty Sabina
. I beamed at her.

‘Breakfast, sweetheart?’ Lilly was already rising.

‘Oh, don’t go to any trouble, Lilly—’

‘You can tell that you’re new here,’ Charlotte grinned at me, as Lilly waved her hand and headed for the kitchen. ‘This is what she
does
, it’s no trouble to her.’

‘I’ll just whip something up,’ she threw over her shoulder as she left the room.

‘Neesa, pop those headphones back in for a moment,’ Charlotte said suddenly, and I glanced at her in surprise. She grimaced and leant forward towards me. ‘I’m really sorry about last night, Sabina. I wasn’t as welcoming as I should have been. I wanted to come out today to apologise and to let you know that I’m really so excited to get to know you, and so very glad that you’re back – especially for Mum.’

‘You didn’t have to do that, Charlotte,’ I said.

‘I didn’t want us to get off on the wrong foot, and I know I nearly did that last night. The truth is . . . I’ve been a little freaked out since Mum said you’d contacted her.’

‘I can understand that.’

‘I know it’s scary for you too, but for me . . .’ she shrugged her svelte shoulders, ‘Well, I grew up in a family of five. There was Mum and Dad, and Simon and Charlotte, and the ghost of a little girl named Sabina, who was perfect in every way.’

I didn’t know what to say to that. She pulled her hair over her shoulder and began to plait it. Her fingers worked fast, winding and unwinding. I wondered if it was her profession or a lifelong nervous tic that made her braid so quickly.

‘I always thought that Mum and Dad assumed you were perfect just because they’d never seen you grow up and they’d never seen otherwise. I was so jealous of you, and sometimes I was glad that you weren’t here because I felt so sure that I’d never be able to compete. And then last night, I went with the best intentions in the world, to welcome you and get to know you – and I walked into that bistro and it was like I was a kid again, like the ghost had resurfaced. And lo and behold—’ she smiled sadly, ‘it turns out that you
are
perfect after all.’

‘Not even close,’ I assured her, thinking of how much I’d struggled over the weeks since I learned about the adoption.

‘You’re like a snapshot of my mother forty years ago. You have her smile, and her curves, and those bright brown eyes, and you’re even a teacher, for heaven’s sakes. And it’s ridiculous but the worst thing for me was, you have that freak-of-nature shiny hair that I always wanted.’ Charlotte smiled sadly, ‘Did you know that I’m a September baby too? I was born four years and four days after you – she fell pregnant with me straight after they had Simon. It was like she was still trying to replace you.’

‘I’m really sorry, Charlotte.’

‘She used to get so sad just before my birthday,’ Charlotte murmured. ‘I was maybe eight or nine when they finally explained. Mum was such an overprotective parent – and I’m so much more adventurous by nature than Simon ever was . . . so I was constantly getting in trouble. Until they explained what had happened with you, I really thought she was miserable for my birthday every year because I was such a terrible child and she wished she’d never had me.’

I thought about how intimidated I’d been when I saw her, but we were more alike than she knew. I was sad for Charlotte, of course, but I was suddenly so excited. I had a
sister
– an insecure, neurotic sister, just like me.

I reached across the table and placed my hand over hers. Just then, Lilly entered the room, with a plate piled high with hot breakfast food, and gave a silly grin at the sight of us.

‘Look at that, my girls are bonding,’ she said, sliding the plate in front of me. ‘This has just been the most marvellous weekend.’

‘I could give you some killer highlights, you know,’ Charlotte said suddenly. I reached up to touch my hair self-consciously.

‘I’ve never coloured my hair,’ I admitted. ‘Do you really think so?’

‘Trust me,’ she smiled. ‘I
know
hair. Brighten up a few strands here and there and those awesome eyes will
pop
. Next time you come, we’ll stop by my salon and I’ll give you the star treatment.’

‘She’s really very good,’ Lilly assured me. I grinned and nodded.

‘I’d like that.’

When the time came to say goodbye, the weekend suddenly seemed to have been too short. As we loaded our bags back into the car, I turned to James, feeling quite panicky that I’d spent so much of the weekend with Lilly, and so little with him.

‘I didn’t really get to talk to you much,’ I said. It suddenly felt like this was an unforgiveable oversight.

‘This weekend was about my Lilly,’ he said, quite gently. ‘There will be more weekends, more dinners, more chats. The next time you visit, bring me some of that beer you make, and it will be
our
turn to sit out on the swinging chair and shoot the breeze, and Ted and Lilly can sit in front of the big screen and watch movies.’

‘Sounds fine,’ Lilly said, ‘As long as they’re historical documentaries. You
will
come back soon, won’t you?’

‘We absolutely will,’ I promised her. ‘It’s been wonderful.’ She embraced me, and I felt gentle sobs rattle her strong arms around my back. ‘I’ll be back, Lilly. I
promise
.’

‘I know,’ she whispered into my hair. ‘I know you will. The truth is . . . I’m crying because I’m happy. I’m crying because I
know
I’ll see you again, and I can call you whenever I want to, and I can look at photos of you and of
us
and I don’t have to wonder anymore. You’re going home, but this is a beginning, not an ending.’ She pulled away a little and met my gaze. ‘I wanted to tell you, Sabina . . . when we were talking last night, something became quite clear to me. When I think back to losing you, I think about it as if I am still sixteen years old. All of my emotions and thoughts about losing you are loud – and everything seems black and white . . . all angry, all hurt, all
unfair
. But talking to you this weekend . . . the truth is, I see
myself
in you, but I also see
Mrs Baxter
in you, the
good
Mrs Baxter anyway . . . the woman who showed me such kindness in the home.’

‘Thank you, Lilly.’

‘For the first time ever, I think I am starting to look back at what happened with adult eyes. I’m still angry, of course, and I’m still hurt and I want answers and it should never have been allowed the happen . . .
nothing
of that time in the maternity home was
okay
. But the truth is, it’s
not
black and white. I just don’t know how we would ever have managed if we’d been allowed to take you home, or even if we would have. If she’d handed you back, would someone
else
have just taken you? And even if we
had
kept you . . . well, we would have made it work, but there would have been no private schools or overseas holidays for you, just two very young, very terrified parents.’

‘That would have been enough,’ I whispered. ‘Wouldn’t it?’

‘Of course it would. Children don’t need
things
, they need love. But . . . I really don’t know how we would have provided for you without James leaving university, and if he
had
left university . . . life would have been so much more difficult for us all. Of
course
I’d have preferred that life,’ she smiled sadly, and offered me a shrug, ‘but it would have been a very different outcome for every one of us.’

I nodded sadly. I thought about the wonderful hours we’d shared overnight, and how I’d seen the change in Lilly even as we talked. Maybe she would never forgive my parents, and maybe they didn’t
deserve
forgiveness, but at least Lilly seemed closer to finding peace for herself. A sudden thought struck me, and although I was hesitant to raise it again, I had to ask.

‘Yesterday, Lilly, you were talking a-about the birth certificate and maybe going to the police . . .’

‘Ah, Sabina. I was angry. If I’d
ever
understood how they went about this, I’d have found a way to stir up some trouble for them. But I watched you when we were talking yesterday and I could see as soon as I said it that the only thing I’d achieve in going to the police would be to hurt you … and to drag out the misery for
all
of us. I
have
to let go of the bitterness now. I have to look forward, and so do you. We can’t change anything that happened, but we can mine the good out of how it all panned out and build a better future from it. For ourselves, and …’ She reached down and gently touched my belly, and she smiled at me, ‘… for this little one.’

I glanced to Ted, who was standing beside me. I thought of that
other
Sabina I’d wondered about, and the very different life she’d have led. Most likely, I would never have met this man, and I’d never have been pregnant with
this
baby.

I’d have grown up right there on the farm, and although it would have been wonderful . . . that just wasn’t what happened for me.

Lilly was right. The past was important – but it was also gone.
This
was the life I had, and it was a pretty bloody good one at that.

‘You’re very wise, Lilly,’ I whispered, and although he’d surely have no idea what I was thinking, Ted suddenly shot me a smile and I knew that he was proud of me.

‘Thank you,’ Lilly murmured, and I heard another one of those contented, happy sighs I was coming to associate with her.

That’s my mother
, I thought, and a sudden impulse overtook me. I threw my arms around her neck. She immediately wound her arms around my back and squeezed.

‘Sabina Wilson-
Piper
,’ she whispered, ‘you are every bit as wonderful as I’d ever imagined you’d be.’

I saw her sneaky tears as we waved goodbye and drove away, but all I could manage was a smile.

‘Are you glad I didn’t let you talk me into heading back home on Friday night?’ Ted asked.

‘It was equal parts heartbreaking and wonderful,’ I conceded. I took one last glance at the endless paddocks and sparse gum trees, and a last deep lungful of the country air. ‘But now that we’ve survived it, I feel better than I have since I found out.’

‘So what’s next?’

I was already fumbling in my bag, looking for my phone.

‘I’m a woman on a mission now, Ted.’

Mum answered on the second ring.

‘Sabina? Love!’ She was simultaneously delighted and concerned at my call. ‘Is everything all right?’

‘I need to speak to you. This evening. By yourself.’ I said.

‘Dad won’t—’

‘Lie to him.’

‘But—’

‘Come to my place, about six tonight, please.’

Mum sighed, a nervous, uneasy sigh, and I softened my voice.

‘I don’t need to interrogate you, Mum, I really don’t. I just want to fill in the final piece of the puzzle, and then we can finally start to move on. I
know
that’s what you want too. I’ll see you at six, okay?’

‘Okay,’ I heard the resignation in her whisper. When I hung up, Ted glanced at me.

‘If it was that easy, we could have done it weeks ago.’

‘You see, my darling husband, something very important has changed,’ I smiled sadly at him. ‘Now, there’s only one question left to ask.’

When the doorbell rang that evening, Ted automatically answered it. He opened the door and greeted Mum with a gentle hello, then he shot me a confused glance and I saw Dad appear in the doorway behind her. I looked at Mum in alarm, but she only offered me a calm smile, as if she didn’t notice my confusion. While Dad and Ted shook hands, Mum sat her hand bag by the door, and carefully unwound her scarf then hung it on the coat hook.