by Dani Atkins
Frankie’s bright, maximum wattage smile didn’t fool me for a minute. She didn’t like the way the other lawyers were taking charge of events any more than I did. This venue had obviously been their choice, rather than hers. Was this how it was going to be? Were they already asserting their authority and trying to intimidate not just us, but also our young lawyer?
With surprising astuteness, Frankie read each one of my unspoken fears, as if they were tattooed on my forehead. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said as she led us to a bay window where three wing-backed armchairs were positioned. ‘Don’t let them rattle you, because they sure as hell won’t be doing that to me. We’ve still got the stronger case here, and they know it.’
Pete smiled and nodded, hearing only the words sitting on the surface of the conversation and not the worrying subtext ticker-taping beneath it. While we waited to be summoned, Frankie took the opportunity to run through her list of dos and don’ts one last time.
‘Basically, say nothing. Do nothing. Agree to nothing. Let me do all the talking. And just remember, we’re only here today to listen to their proposal. We’re not agreeing to a single thing. Unless of course they suggest dropping their claim. We’ll agree to that!’ She laughed and then stopped abruptly as she caught sight of our hopeful expressions.
‘Erm, that’s probably not going to happen, guys. Sorry. Bad joke.’ For the first time that day, Frankie looked less than comfortable. That expression was still on her face when her phone pinged with an incoming message a few seconds later. She read the screen and then looked up, her eyes glittering with anticipation. ‘That was them. They’re ready. It’s showtime.’
20
Beth
She was shorter than I was expecting, and the kind of thin that makes you think she got that way through dieting rather than by nature. Her husband – I assumed they were married, although no one had ever confirmed it – was tall and solidly built, with a rugby player’s physique. He looked like someone who worked outdoors; he certainly looked uncomfortable in the suit and tie he was wearing, because his fingers kept going to the collar of his shirt as though he’d mistakenly bought one two sizes too small. In contrast, Liam looked supremely relaxed and at ease, but then of course he would. The outcome of today’s meeting wouldn’t impact his life in the way it would ours.
A third figure entered the room with my son’s parents, and in any other circumstance she would have been the one who would have drawn my attention because she looked as if she might possibly have wandered into the wrong room, or even the wrong hotel. Her jet black spiky hair, feathered with bright pink tips, gave her the look of a dangerous raven. There was a tattoo on the back of her wrist, just visible as she extended her hand to her suited counterparts. William was far too professional to register surprise at her unconventional appearance, although I imagine not many lawyers have ears so heavily pierced they appear to have run out of flesh and cartilage to decorate.
At William’s invitation, everyone sat down. In the seconds before anyone spoke, the sheer incongruity of the meeting struck me like a rock thrown through a window. Apart from my own lawyer, everyone looked like they were in the wrong place. Couple X’s lawyer looked like she should be at a comic book convention; Edward looked like he should be in a grotto surrounded by elves; Liam should be abseiling down a building to deliver a box of chocolates; while Couple X and I looked like we should be anywhere else on the planet… except here.
Introductions were made from our side of the table first. William had already instructed me that surnames might not be revealed initially. But being introduced as ‘Beth’ felt far too informal, as though we were at a pleasant social gathering and would soon be chatting about the weather we’ve been having lately. You only needed to look into everyone’s eyes to see that was clearly not the case. No one made any move to shake hands, which seemed to be as much of a relief to the other couple as it was to me.
Liam had jumped in to perform his own introduction before William could do the honours. ‘I’m Liam. I’m here as a friend of Beth’s, but am not directly involved in her application.’
On the other side of the table, the woman who looked in need of several hearty dinners flinched, while her husband remained unaffected, or so I thought until I glanced down through the thick plated glass of the tabletop and saw that his hands were balled into fists on his knees. That didn’t bode well.
‘I’m Frankie Burrows, and I represent Couple X,’ informed the young female lawyer. She glanced at her clients and I caught her giving them a small smile of encouragement. ‘Who in real life go by the names of Izzy and Pete.’
The keyboard clattered quietly as Keeley’s fingers flew over her laptop, minuting the meeting. I’m sure she accurately recorded the comments made by both sets of lawyers, but there was no way she could have logged the fear and mistrust that hung over the table like a toxic cloud.
‘Before proceeding,’ began William smoothly, ‘I should inform you we’ve now received a preliminary report from the Westmore Clinic investigation.’ Everyone immediately sat up straighter, like meerkats on alert. William reached for a file and extracted a document from within it. I recognised the clinic’s logo on the front cover. ‘There’s a copy for each of you, but to precis the findings, the clinic now acknowledges negligence.’
On the other side of the table, the man who Noah called Daddy made a noise that sounded like an angry bear. William paused for a beat before continuing.
‘We already knew what had happened, so the report focuses on the how and the why. Unsurprisingly, the conclusion they’ve reached is that human error was to blame. Your names were similar.’ William looked up from the document in his hands, his eyes going to the couple on the other side of the table. ‘I believe you were still using your maiden name at that time?’ The thin woman with the terrified eyes gave a curt nod. ‘Eliza Bland and Elizabeth Brandon – they are similar, but if the clinic had followed their own protocols and ensured that the removal of the embryo had been witnessed by a second embryologist, the mistake would have been spotted.’
‘That’s not good enough.’ The words burst from Izzy like gunfire.
‘You’re right, it isn’t,’ agreed William. ‘You all deserve better answers than that, but in reality we may never get them.’ His eyes dropped again to the document in front of him. ‘The clinic have discovered that the embryologist responsible for the error, Melanie Cuthbert, may possibly have been suffering from post-traumatic stress. Apparently, she witnessed a fatal car accident on her way to the clinic that morning.’
‘Then she shouldn’t have been at work that day,’ I said fiercely. Across the table, Pete and Izzy were nodding emphatically. It was, I suspected, one of the only times we might ever be in agreement about anything.
Beside me, I was aware that something had caused Liam to stiffen in his seat. From my peripheral vision, I saw him reach for the document on the desk and draw it towards him, his focus on the date of the clinic’s mistake. I had no idea what had snagged his attention.
Meanwhile, William’s voice was smooth and placating. ‘Obviously, our claim is against the clinic, rather than any one individual. Although the board at Westmore were at pains to reassure us that Ms Cuthbert is no longer an employee of the clinic.’
‘As it’s highly unlikely my clients will ever use Westmore Fertility Clinic again, that’s kind of irrelevant,’ interjected Frankie, giving Izzy a reassuring nod and a fleeting smile. ‘We’ve already made arrangements for their remaining embryos to be transferred to another facility.’
Her words felt like a knife stab. Izzy and Pete still had other embryos, other chances of a family, while my one and only opportunity had gone.
The lawyers took over the meeting from that point, both sides filling the air with words, without saying anything at all. As we skirted around the reason this meeting had been called, Edward’s voice deepened with authority and gravitas. Frankie Burrows’s comments were less orthodox and although I probably wasn’t meant to admir
e her feistiness, part of me did. As long as it wasn’t going to get in the way of what I hoped we’d be able to achieve.
After a particularly ‘difficult to follow if you’ve never been to law school’ comment of William’s, I could sense the mood on the other side of the table begin to change. Frankie Burrows leant forward, the collection of silver bangles on her wrists jingling against the table’s glass surface. ‘Let’s cut… to the chase,’ she said. Everyone in the room knew she’d substituted the words ‘the crap’ from the end of that sentence at the last moment. ‘What is it that your client wants?’
I hadn’t known I was going to speak over the top of William until the words were tumbling out of my mouth. ‘I want to get to know my child. I want to be part of his life.’
Izzy made a sound halfway between a gasp and a cry of denial. Her head was shaking fiercely from side to side, causing her hair to flay against her husband’s cheek with each emphatic unspoken ‘no’.
‘I didn’t even know if we’d had a son or a daughter until someone leaked that information,’ I said desperately.
‘Yes, about that—’ began Frankie, clearly looking for a diversion, but she was stopped by her own client.
‘That’s because you didn’t have a son or a daughter,’ said Izzy. Her voice was tight and very controlled. ‘I did.’
‘It was my embryo,’ I said, my voice rising with emotion. Very subtly I could sense Liam leaning a little closer towards my chair.
‘Which grew into my baby.’ She turned to look at her husband, Pete, who was nodding encouragingly, his eyes overflowing with admiration. ‘Our baby. Our child. Our son.’
Izzy drew in a deep, steadying breath before continuing, scything me down with every single word.
‘I’m very sorry for what happened. I know it’s not your fault. But we’ve been hurt by this every bit as much as you have.’
‘Hardly,’ I muttered darkly. Beside me, I could sense the lawyers were looking for the right moment to intervene and wrest back control of the meeting.
‘I don’t want to sound heartless, but your position is no different from anyone who donates unwanted embryos to infertile couples. Yes, the clinic made a dreadful error, and we both have a case against them for that. But you do not have any rights to our child.’
I heard Liam’s indrawn breath at exactly the same moment as Edward began to speak, but they were lost beneath what Izzy must have thought was her winning argument.
‘You and Liam can have other babies together. And I hope you do. I hope your next round of IVF is a success. But that still doesn’t entitle you to be part of our child’s life.’
There was so much that she clearly didn’t understand. Not least of which was her assumption that Liam was the biological father of the embryo she’d received eight years ago. That one at least I could correct.
‘Liam is not my partner. He’s just a friend. The embryo that should have become my son was frozen ten years ago by my husband and me.’
Izzy’s face drained of colour; I watched it ebb to a sickly shade of white. It was almost like she knew what was coming next.
‘We froze our embryos before my husband began his cancer treatment. We had one last one left in storage. Or so I’d always believed.’
Izzy’s eyes went to Liam and then back to me.
‘My husband’s treatment wasn’t successful. I lost him five years ago. That final embryo was all I had left. It’s the hope I’ve been clinging to since the day he died. Everything else is gone – our future, our dream of growing old together, the family we wanted to have.’ My voice was breaking now, but I couldn’t hold back the tears if I tried. ‘All that was left was one last chance to have our baby. And they gave it to you instead of me.’
*
I’m not sure if it was my lawyers or theirs who suggested we should take a short break. The atmosphere in the room was so highly charged with emotion it felt practically combustible.
‘Shall we meet back here in thirty minutes?’ suggested William. Frankie Burrows, who was busy shepherding her clients out of the door, looked back over her shoulder and nodded tersely.
I counted to thirty, giving Izzy and her husband more than enough time to have cleared the corridor before getting shakily to my feet. I wasn’t used to confrontation and felt physically drained by the scene we’d just been through.
‘I’m about to phone down for coffee,’ said William as he saw me grappling for my bag.
I shook my head. ‘I need some fresh air.’
I could see Liam getting to his feet, but motioned him back with my hand. Someone was saying something, but their words were a distortion of garbled noise. I imagine they were trying to dissuade me from leaving, but I was focused only on the door and my need to get through it before I was physically sick with reaction.
Thankfully, the corridor was empty, but I didn’t want to risk bumping into anyone in the hotel foyer, so I followed a sign for the emergency exit stairwell. Despite the heels and tight-fitting dress, I was still halfway down the second flight of stairs before Liam caught up with me.
‘Beth!’ he cried, as his hand shot out to circle the flesh of my upper arm. From the urgency in his tone, I doubt it was the first time he’d called my name. His grip unbalanced me and I stumbled forward, feeling the bite on my skin as his fingers tightened their hold, steadying me.
‘Careful,’ he warned, his voice jagged with concern. ‘You almost fell.’
‘Only because you grabbed me,’ I shot back, my heart racing at twice its usual pace at the near miss.
He had enough good sense not to pursue that argument. ‘Just slow down for a moment. Please,’ he pleaded. His eyes appeared almost black in the unnatural fluorescent lighting and were overflowing with the kind of compassion that could very easily undo me. I was on a dangerous cliff edge, holding on by only the tips of my fingernails, but I had to pull myself back up. I couldn’t let him help me.
‘Let me come with you,’ he implored, already knowing I was going to say ‘no’. It was strange that this man who I hardly knew understood me better than perhaps even my own family did. We’d both unwillingly travelled to a place few people our age had visited, and the journey had changed us in ways that still took me by surprise. I could feel the bond between us subtly tightening.
‘Just tell me this: are you coming back?’
I nodded fiercely before asking a question of my own. ‘It’s not going to go our way, is it?’
Liam took his time, making me wonder how many discarded replies he’d considered before admitting: ‘Feelings were always going to be running high.’ It was a politician’s answer, and my raised eyebrows told him exactly what I thought of it.
‘It could have gone better,’ he admitted soberly. He looked at me for a long moment. ‘I’ll see you back upstairs.’
Despite my craving for fresh air, I remained on the stairwell, watching as Liam climbed back up the stairs he had just raced down to reach me. I almost called him back, not just once, but several times. His name was still on my lips waiting to be set free when he finally disappeared from sight.
Memory led me to my destination, taking me down to ground level and then along a winding passageway until I arrived at a set of steel service doors. I pushed them open and stepped into the warm sunshine-filled oasis of the hotel’s courtyard garden. It was an area I’d decorated several times with garlands of flowers woven into trellised archways for outdoor weddings. Luckily, none appeared to be scheduled today, for I shared the courtyard with no one except a few milling pigeons.
Like a diver breaking the water’s surface, I lifted my face to the sky and inhaled deeply, drawing in serenity – or as close to it as I could get – in huge restorative gulps. I didn’t open my eyes for at least a minute, allowing the warmth of the sun, the breeze lifting my hair, and the fragrance of flowers from the rose garden to recalibrate and steady me.
These were the moments when I still felt Tim beside me – not in a creepy ‘I see dead people’ way
, but in a deep, almost elemental manner, connecting with nature. The breeze against my cheek was his breath as he lay beside me at night; the sun’s rays warming me were his arms circled around my waist; and the whispered stirrings of the foliage were our softly spoken secrets.
I missed him suddenly with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. ‘I don’t know how to do this without you,’ I confessed to the empty courtyard. ‘I’m not even sure if I’m doing the right thing anymore. Is this what you’d want? I wish you could tell me, or give me some kind of sign.’ I looked up at the thick fluffy clouds chasing each other across a bright blue sky, but there were no meaningful images hidden among their cotton wool depths; they were just clouds.
Fifteen minutes later, I reluctantly forced my sun-warmed limbs off the bench I’d claimed and prepared to return to the fourth-floor meeting room. The back of my neck was prickly with perspiration, and I was definitely in need of a ladies’ room to freshen up before facing Noah’s family again.
I rode the lift to the fourth floor alone, acknowledging too late how much harder it was without the comfort of Liam standing beside me. Maybe I had been too quick in dismissing him, I thought, as my hand slipped clammily on the handle of the door bearing a woman’s silhouette.
The washroom was blissfully cool. The sound of my heels ricocheted off the marble walls and floor as I crossed to a row of gleaming white basins. Ignoring the lure of a padded velvet bench, I rummaged hurriedly in my make-up bag at the vanity area. After some quick repairs, I gathered up my scattered cosmetics and bundled them back into the bag, sighing with irritation as my mascara rolled off the shelf and onto the floor. I bent to retrieve it and noticed something crumpled on the marble behind the velvet bench: something soft, woollen, and bright red in colour. I picked it up, already knowing where I’d seen the garment before: looped over Izzy’s arm when she’d left the meeting room.
My eyes flew to the row of cubicles set at a discreet distance from the basin area. At first glance they’d appeared to be vacant, but now I looked closer I could see that the door to the stall at the end of the row was shut. I reached for my runaway mascara and threw it into the bag. The very last thing I wanted was to have a face-to-face encounter with Izzy in the ladies’ room, but the sound of a sliding bolt told me that was exactly what was about to happen.
