‘The sky darkened and she went inside to begin dinner. Then it occurred to her it had been a very long time since the baby had cried or needed anything. Proud of herself that she noticed, she went into the bedroom and pulled the blanket off the carrier. To her horror, she saw her shopping, not the baby. To this day, she has no recollection of what happened in those moments in the locker room. It's a blank space in her mind.’
‘Don't make excuses for her, Alec. Just continue the story.’ Cecily's voice was hard, and Alec desperately wanted to say no more. But she was looking at him, silently demanding he go on.
‘The moment of horror was followed by an intense sweep of relief that she no longer had to look after the baby. Then came the guilt that she felt that way. She was paralysed, and stood there for some time, until she heard her husband come home.
‘She acted quickly. She put the carrier with the shopping in the cupboard, went outside, greeted him, told him the baby had a cold and was sleeping so he wasn't to disturb their daughter and took him away from the bedroom. Over the course of the evening, she decided that was the best route to take—to keep him away from the baby until she decided what to do. She managed it for two days, until finally he was demanding they take the baby to the hospital. Then she broke down and as she sobbed, she found the words coming out that the baby had died and she hadn't wanted to tell anyone because she felt such a failure.
‘He was upset, angry, but he was also compassionate and understanding. He believed her story that the hospital had taken the body away because she was so upset and cremated it and she made up a little urn to pretend it was the baby. They had a funeral, and they both grieved and in the process, she convinced herself that it was true, that the baby had died. She totally forgot the truth, until the baby's 21st birthday. She had celebrated the baby's birthday every year but for some reason, that particular birthday triggered something and the memories came flooding back, in horrible clarity. She suffered a breakdown and had to be hospitalised for many months. She confessed what she had done to her husband and he looked into it. The baby had been found by a staff member of the station, who had called the police. A social worker had taken the baby to hospital, where it was found to be a little underweight but healthy. For weeks, the police looked for the baby's parents and put out bulletins and pleas, but no one came forward. Eventually, the child was signed over to the care of the department and then the trail went cold because some paper work had been lost and they couldn't find anything else out about her.’
‘Did the department tell them the name they gave the child?’
This would be the moment. ‘Only the first name—Cecily.’
Cecily swayed and Alec put his arms around her and held her tight against his chest.
‘Does she remember the shops she went to?’
Alec frowned. What a strange question. ‘Yes.’
‘She told you?’
‘Yes.’
Cecily wriggled out of his arms. ‘Come with me.’
Alec followed Cecily out of the park and through the streets of Kingston Foreshore. She avoided the crowds at the bars and restaurants, keeping to the dark, so it took some time for him to realise she was leading him to her apartment.
Inside, she went straight to her bedroom, opened her cupboard and began rummaging. Alec sat on the bed.
Cecily straightened and turned with an archive box in her hands. She put it on her bed next to Alec and opened it. Then she started pulling out plastic shopping bags. She laid them out on her quilt and stood back.
‘Are they the stores?’
Alec stared. ‘Where did you get these? Why did you keep them?’
‘The police kept them as evidence in a cold case locker. When I turned 18, they closed the case and I asked for the bags. They were the only connection I had with my mother. You haven't answered my question. Are they the stores?’
Alec looked and could see the truth in Cecily's eyes. But he gave her the answer she needed. ‘Yes.’
Cecily plonked down on the bed next to him and Alec took her hand. They sat in silence for long moments.
‘So, my birthday is really September 25.’
‘What has it been?’
‘November 8. The day I was found. They couldn't tell how old I was. Six weeks.’
More silence, then.
‘What is my name?’
Alec squeezed her hand. ‘You won't believe this. It's Ernestine.’
Cecily barked out a laugh. ‘You are kidding.’
‘No. It's a traditional family name. But they were calling you—and I swear I am not making this up—Tina.’
‘Damn, the universe is bizarre.’
More silence until finally—‘Who is she?’
‘Again, something else you won't believe. Lois Bailey.’
Cecily shook. She turned slowly. Blinked a few times. ‘Are you telling me my father is the Prime Minister of Australia?’
‘And he's on your side. See, it's in your blood.’
‘Fuck.’ Cecily sprung up and started to pace. Then she spun quickly. ‘Was all this revealed in a speech?’
‘Yes, Lois confessed it all at the benefit for postnatal depression. That was the problem, not that she couldn't love the baby—um, you—but she really was ill and no one recognised it and helped her.’
‘So right now the whole world knows?’ Cecily started pacing again. ‘It will be all over the morning news. Today Show. Sunrise. Oh, crap, my foster families will find out.’
‘Is that a problem?’
‘For some, no. They'll keep their mouths shut. But some are going to see this as their way to get their fifteen minutes. Maybe even get some money out of a rich man. They all knew my story. They'll put this together and start declaring to anyone who will listen that I am the Prime Minister's daughter. We need to warn them.’
‘Warn who? Your foster families?’
‘No. Mr and Mrs Bailey. The Prime Minister and his wife. My parents. My parents?’
Cecily's voice was getting shrill. ‘Would it help if you hit me?’
That stopped her. ‘What?’
‘You appear to be on the verge of a panic. I thought if you hit me, that might help.’
She didn't hit him. Instead, she came forward, put her hands on either side of his face and kissed him. ‘Thank you. Now, how the hell do you get in contact with the leader of the country at—’ she consulted her watch, ‘two in the morning.’
Alec pulled out his phone. ‘I have Mrs Bailey on speed dial.’
Cecily rolled her eyes. ‘Of course you do. How?’
‘This whole legislation and benefit was my idea. My sister suffered postnatal depression and I was determined once I got the opportunity to do everything in my power to help other women.’
That got him another kiss. ‘Call them. Let's do this before I lose my nerve. I need a drink.’
Cecily left the room and Alec took a moment to admire her, and wish he could make the relationship work, before he set up the meeting.
Cecily
As the guard at the gate to the Prime Minister’s residence checked their ID, Cecily took deep breaths to stay calm and not wriggle in her seat. The last thing she needed was a heavily armed man sworn to protect the leader of the country to wonder why she was acting so weird.
‘I need to look in the box, miss.’
Cecily's grip tightened on the box and then she relaxed it and nodded. The guard nodded and her door opened. Cecily jumped—she hadn't known there was someone on her side of the car.
‘Ma'am?’ The other guard held out his hand.
Cecily handed the box over. She noted as she did so that another guard was wandering around the car, looking underneath it with a mirror on a long pole. She shuddered. Was worrying about these things going to become her life?
The guard put the box on the ground, opened it and lifted out each of the shopping bags, checking them carefully. He gave a look that clearly said, 'What the hell?'
Alec leant over her and gri
nned. ‘The PM asked me to bring them in for him. Something to help the missus with what she did tonight. I don't get it either.’
The lie must have appeased the guard, because he put the bags back in the box, returned the whole thing to Cecily and closed the car door.
Cecily hugged the box, letting it centre her in the midst of this madness.
Their ID was handed back, the gates opened and Alec steered the car into the grounds of The Lodge. In the moonlight, there was little to see of the landscaped grounds. He pulled up at the side of the white stucco building, rather than under the portico at the front. Cecily knew that well—she'd seen it on television countless times. Instead, Alec knocked on what looked like a very ordinary wooden door.
It was opened by a servant—okay, not so ordinary.
‘Mr Moncrieff. They're waiting for you in the drawing room. Follow me.’
Mr Moncrieff. How had the darling of the opposition become a known guest at the Government leader's home?
They walked down a short plain hallway and turned into a wider, panelled hall. The servant stopped in front of a double door and nodded at Alec. Alec opened it and walked in. Clutching her box, Cecily followed.
The Prime Minister was sitting in a beautiful tapestried arm chair. He put down a newspaper and stood as they entered. His wife—Cecily's mother—was sitting on a grey lounge, knitting. She laid her knitting on the lounge but stayed seated.
‘Alec.’ The PM shook Alec's hand. ‘I'm assuming that on a night like this, with what we've been through, you wouldn't have asked to come and bring someone with you unless it was extremely important.’
Cecily caught a tone of anger in the PM's voice. Apparently Alec wasn't as popular with this man as he would like.
‘Absolutely, sir. I actually wish we weren't doing this now, but time is of the essence. Mr Bailey, Lois, I want to present to you the policy adviser of Senator Michelle Abeyson. Cecily Carter.’
Cecily noted they both jolted at the sound of her name. ‘Ms Carter.’ The PM nodded his head. His wife offered a wan smile, very unlike what Cecily had noted when she'd seen her before—always at a distance. The PM’s wife was one of the happiest, smiliest people Cecily had ever seen. Cecily noted how pale the other woman was and that her hands shook as they laid on her lap. It occurred to Cecily that this night had been extremely stressful for Lois too.
‘Mr Bailey. Mrs Bailey. It's an honour to meet you. I've been a loyal servant of the party for some years now,’ Cecily said.
The PM acknowledged her words with another bow of his head, then turned to Alec with a frown that suggested he didn't think meeting the policy adviser of a senator a good enough reason to be disturbed.
‘Cecily has a story to tell. Cecily?’
Alec turned and smiled at her and that gave Cecily the courage to go on. She directed her words to Mrs Bailey.
‘Mrs Bailey, I am a foundling.’ A deep silence enveloped the room, a silence that spoke of breaths being held. ‘I was found in the locker room at Central Railway Station on November 8, 1993. I was found inside these.’ Cecily put the box on the coffee table, opened it and pulled out the shopping bags. As she did, tears started to roll down Mrs Bailey's face.
The two women faced each other.
‘Ernestine?’ Mrs Bailey whispered.
‘I think so,’ Cecily whispered back.
‘Just a moment.’ The PM stormed, placing himself between Cecily and his wife. ‘How do we know this story is true? You could be seeing this as an opportunity and wanting to take advantage of us.’
‘I can see how you would think that, but it is true,’ Cecily said. She pulled papers out of the bottom of the box. ‘This is my birth certificate, showing my birth as the date I was found and my parentage as unknown. This is the police report detailing my being found. I have kept in touch with the officer who found me, and if you contact him he can vouch for my identity. If you want me to take a DNA test to really prove it, I am happy to. But when Alec told me all the details of the story, I knew it to be true.’
Mrs Bailey stood. ‘Those are the bags, Michael. Those are the bags I had at the station, the bags I left behind, the bags I thought I'd left my shopping in but instead I left my baby in.’ She looked at Cecily and collapsed on the lounge with heart-wrenching sobs.
The PM looked over the paperwork Cecily gave him and colour drained from his face. He looked at her and she saw the question, the wonder in his eyes as he looked at his daughter for the first time in 27 years.
‘Sir, I hate that I have to come here and just deliver the information like this. But I am worried that when the story hits the news tomorrow, some of my foster families will hear it, realise that the child being spoken about is me and use that to take advantage of you. I want you to have time to prepare, to know how you are going to handle it. For my part, I have decided I am going to take leave from my job and I am going to go away.’
‘No.’ The word burst out of Mrs Bailey. Her mother. Would Cecily ever be able to call her that? ‘You can't leave when we've just found you again.’
‘I am sorry, but this has been a tremendous shock for me as well. I've lived all my life thinking I would never know my parents, and now suddenly here you are, and you aren't just normal people. I don't know what to think. I don't know what to feel. I need time to process it.’
‘I agree,’ the PM said. ‘Lois, I think you should go away too. Now, tonight. You can go to the farm, no one can get to you there, and you can have time to process this. Cecily, wherever you go, I'd like you to let me know, so we can ensure you are kept an eye on. When you are both ready, we will meet again, and at that time we can work out what this means, and how it will impact our lives.’
‘You will be announcing that you have found me, and that you are taking time to adjust to this?’ Cecily said.
The PM nodded. She couldn't think of him as her father. ‘I won't say anything beyond that we have found you, your name, and that you worked for one of our politicians. Hopefully no one will find any photos of you so wherever you go, you will not be recognised.’
‘That will head off any of my foster families that might try to use the information to extort money from you.’
‘Were—were they that bad?’
Cecily decided now wasn't the time to talk about that. ‘Not all. And they are just being human.’
He nodded. ‘If you don't mind, I will take some of your hair for testing.’
‘Of course.’
‘Not necessary,’ Mrs Bailey said. ‘Look at her. She and Ryan are the image of each other.’
Ryan was their oldest son. Her brother. She had brothers now? ‘It's fine. I want the definitive proof as well.’
A police officer was called and the sample was taken. Then an awkward goodbye, where Cecily could see Mrs Bailey wanted to hug her and she allowed it but she didn't feel the same. She didn't know what to feel.
Was there such a thing as post discovering-your-parents depression?
Alec drove her home. ‘Where are you going to go?’
‘I don’t know.’ Her brain just wouldn’t work. So much that she needed to do, but her brain wouldn’t work.
‘I have a friend—’
Cecily held up her hand and he stopped. ‘Thank you, but you’ve done enough. I need to take control now.’
‘All right. But if you need me …’
Cecily leant over and kissed him and it was sweet and tender and comforting and everything she needed. ‘I know where to find you.’
She went inside. Halfway up the stairs, she passed Gwen’s door. The light was still on, and Cecily took the punt and knocked. There was a flurry of noise and it was opened.
‘Well?’ Gwen said.
‘You aren’t going to believe this.’ Cecily walked in and flopped on the couch. She grinned up at Gwen, because it all was just too strange to be anything but amusing. ‘I am the Prime Minister’s eldest child.’
‘Get out!’ Gwen flopped next to her.
‘Get in.
Mrs Bailey had terrible postnatal depression and she had some sort of a mind melt when out shopping and left me in the train station and took the shopping home. Her snap was so severe she then convinced herself that I was dead so no one came looking for me.’
‘Oh my god. I … I don’t know what to say.’
‘I don’t know what to feel.’
‘Well, that’s understandable. It’s freaky.’
‘That’s one word for it.’
There was silence and Cecily was grateful for it. A calm moment in a sea of madness.
‘What will you do?’
‘I don’t know. I want to get out of Canberra, away from the media furore that’s going to break. But where and how?’
‘With me,’ Gwen said. ‘You can come to Tybrim. My parents’ place is huge, it’s on a few acres so there’s plenty of room and you can walk and rest and when you’re ready, think.’
‘Will your mother mind?’
‘Absolutely not. She adores guests, and loves looking after people. I’ll give her a sob story and she’ll be bringing you breakfast in bed and making your favourite foods for you. I’m leaving first thing in the morning, about seven, so we’ll be well and truly out of town by the time anything comes out. No one in Ty will care less who you are. You’ll be safe and secure.’
Being able to jump in a car and get out of Canberra in just a few hours sounded perfect. Cecily wasn’t sold that staying with Gwen’s family would be the solution, but at least the journey to Tybrim would give her time to consider her options. ‘Thank you. Yes, let’s do that. Meet you down at your car at seven.’
‘Perfect,’ Gwen said. ‘Pack bathers. Even though it’s May, the pool at home is heated and on a sunny, windless day it’s the perfect place to be.’
Cecily went upstairs and packed. Then she unpacked and then packed again, ensuring she took as much as possible using as little space as possible. She sent an email to Michelle, saying she was going and didn’t know when she’d be back and that Michelle would find out why in the morning. Then she emailed Michael so he could warn his family of what was approaching.
The Importance of Ernestine Page 22
