Lost Without You

by Rachael Johns

  ‘No. That’s not the r—’

  ‘This child of yours,’ he interrupted, sitting up straight as if a light bulb had gone off inside his head, ‘They might be a kidney match.’

  She swallowed, suddenly remembering why she hadn’t wanted to say anything until she was well again.

  ‘That’s not why,’ she said. ‘There’s no way I would find my child only to ask them for a kidney. That would feel worse than asking a stranger in the street. But being sick brought it all back. It’s like they say, when you die your life flashes before your eyes, you think about regrets … you start to wonder if you should have made different choices. I couldn’t stop thinking about him and—’

  ‘And that’s why you’re telling me? Because you’ve decided you want to start searching?’

  She flinched at the anger in his voice, but shook her head. ‘No. I’m telling you because I think I’ve already found her.’

  ‘Her?’ Hugh screwed up his whole face. ‘Didn’t you just say him a second ago? What did you have—a boy or a girl?’

  ‘I thought I had a boy, that’s what I was told—that’s what I believed—but I never got close, I never held him. All I had was a photo, and then a week ago, when I went to Josie’s house with Paige—I saw another photo that looked almost the same as mine. I thought maybe it was her husband, but no, it was a baby photo of Josie and I know it sounds crazy, but she’d be around the same age my child would be, and she looks a little like me. She and Nik got married in Perth so perhaps she was born there, and I recently read about genetic sexual attraction. She and Paige hit it off instantly.’

  ‘Are you saying Paige has a romantic interest in Josie?’ His disbelief came through loud and clear.

  ‘No, but they’ve got some sort of connection and …’ She sighed. ‘I just can’t get it out of my head that somehow Josie is my child.’

  Rebecca wanted Hugh to tell her that she was being crazy—that there was no way Josie was hers. She wanted him to wrap his arms around her and tell her it was okay, that this wasn’t going to come between them and he’d help her sort it out. But instead, he turned, threw back the covers, climbed out of bed and stalked from the room.

  She sat frozen, wondering if she should go after him as she cringed at the sound of him banging around in the kitchen. When she heard the kettle boiling, she decided to be brave and go out and join him.

  Hugh was standing at the bench, stirring a spoon in his mug. ‘What are you planning to do now?’ he asked, not turning around to look at her or offer to make her a drink.

  ‘I’ve sent away for information about the adoption, but it might still be a few weeks before I get it.’ She didn’t mention that she’d phoned the Western Australian organisation responsible for adoption information twice this week to ask, and then beg, if there was any way they could speed up her application. The answer had been no. ‘I guess then I’ll know for sure.’

  ‘And then what will you do? Do you plan on confronting your child?’

  That was a question Rebecca wasn’t able to answer. ‘I’m not sure. I guess it depends on what the information tells me. If Josie is my daughter—and Paige has become such good friends with her—it’s going to be hard to ignore that.’

  ‘What a mess.’ Hugh exhaled loudly, put down his mug and buried his face in his hands. Was he crying? Part of Rebecca felt like a weight had been lifted now she’d told him, but by lightening her load she’d complicated his life.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ She crossed over to him and put her hand on his shoulder.

  He didn’t say anything for a long time and he didn’t turn to her and hug her like she wanted him to do. ‘You know, you could just ask your parents,’ he said eventually. ‘I think it’s highly unlikely that Josie is your daughter. What you’ve said sounds pretty farfetched, but at least if you confront them you’ll know whether your suspicions have any substance.’

  Why hadn’t she thought of that before? Probably because until this latest dream, the thought of them lying had never entered her head. She glanced at the time on the microwave clock. Still too early to pay her folks a visit.

  ‘Good idea. I’ll do it today. Will you come with me?’ Rebecca could face anything if she had Hugh beside her.

  ‘I can’t. I’ve got too much on.’

  Those seven words spoke volumes. Rebecca bit her lip, refraining from mentioning that less than an hour ago he’d told her he could take the day off and go with her to dialysis. ‘Are you mad at me?’

  Slowly, he turned to look at her. ‘I’m fucking furious,’ he said coldly and then retreated to their bedroom.

  Rebecca didn’t go back to bed. She made herself a cup of tea, then pulled out her laptop and spent the next few hours searching for information. She’d been too scared to try this before in case somehow Hugh saw her search history, but now everything was out in the open, it didn’t matter. Perhaps she could find something about Josie that would set her mind at ease, prove her fears were ridiculous, and then she wouldn’t have to confront her parents.

  She’d had to stop herself outright asking Paige if she knew if Josie was adopted or what her birthday was. Her daughter already thought she was acting weird—such questions would be a dead giveaway and there was no guarantee Paige had that kind of intel anyway. However much she professed to like Josie, she couldn’t know her very well after only a couple of weeks.

  But, just like herself, Josie didn’t seem to have a digital footprint. She wasn’t on Facebook—Rebecca used Hugh’s account to check—and when she googled Josie’s married name, all she got was something on a school website about a theatre production. It was so damn infuriating, she had to stop herself throwing the laptop against the wall. Josie’s husband was on Facebook but he mostly posted photos of planes and the odd bowling score sheet. There was the occasional smiling photo of him and Josie, but of course she wasn’t tagged.

  When Hugh came into the kitchen just after six am, she still hadn’t found anything useful. She offered him a tentative smile, but he refused to meet her gaze as he made himself a coffee. She’d hoped a few hours of sleep would have cooled his fury and that maybe he’d have changed his mind about coming to her parents’ place, but judging by the scowl on his face, he hadn’t had much sleep or cooled any.

  He drank his coffee in silence and went to work earlier than he usually would.

  ‘Have a good day,’ she called as he headed down the hallway, but he didn’t even respond.

  She snapped the laptop shut and glanced at the clock. By the time she had a shower, threw on some clothes and drove all the way to her parents’ house in Castle Hill, it wouldn’t be too early to visit.

  Sweat was pouring off her skin as she parked on their driveway and she was barely managing to control her breathing. Every sensible bone in her body told her she was overreacting—Hugh had said as much. Her parents would probably laugh out loud at her question about whether she’d had a girl, but then at least it would alleviate her fixation with Josie. And, until she knew for sure she wouldn’t be able to shut down the adrenaline charging through her body.

  Despite the early hour, the back door would be unlocked—you’d think her father’s job as a cop would have taught him to be more security conscious, but he’d always thought himself invincible. Usually Rebecca would just let herself in, but since she rarely visited her folks without at least a phone call first—they weren’t what you’d call close—she chose to ring the doorbell. When no one came to the door within a minute she rang it again.

  ‘What are you doing here at this hour?’ her mother asked by way of a greeting the moment she opened the front door.

  Rebecca wasn’t in the mood for small talk anyway. ‘I’ve come to ask you a question. Where’s Dad?’

  ‘He’s still in bed. His angina was playing up overnight, but these days we have no reason to hurry up anyway. I’m going to call the doctor and see if I can get him an appointment later.’

  Rebecca didn’t have the headspace to worry about her father�
��s heart problems right now, but perhaps this was fortuitous. Her mother had less practice at deflecting uncomfortable conversations.

  ‘Is something the matter? You look terrible. Have you missed a dialysis session? Let me get you a cup of tea.’ Her mum reached out to touch her elbow but Rebecca shook her off.

  ‘Did I have a daughter?’

  Jeanie blinked and, in the second she hesitated before answering, Rebecca saw panic flash across her face. ‘What are you talking about? Of course you have a daughter. Paige is the light of all our lives.’

  ‘I’m not talking about Paige,’ Rebecca said, her voice rising. ‘The child you made me adopt out. Was it a girl or a boy?’

  ‘Why are you bringing this up after all these years?’ Jeanie’s voice was hushed and she looked over her shoulder as if worried her husband might wake. ‘You know the adoption was for the best. You were only a child yourself.’

  ‘Oh my God.’ Rebecca staggered back and hit her hip against the hallway table. A vase of flowers fell off and crashed against the floor—she barely noticed the noise or the pain. Her mother was a terrible liar. Or so she’d thought. ‘Why can’t you just answer the damn question? Tell me the truth? Did I have a boy or a girl?’

  Hugging her arms against her chest, Jeanie started to sob. ‘We only did what we thought was best—no one wants their teenage daughter to have a baby, everything we did was to protect you.’

  ‘Just! Answer! The damn! Question!’

  Her father appeared in the doorway. ‘What the hell is going on?’ The scowl on his face told Rebecca he was annoyed to have been woken from his slumber. Well, too damn bad. His wrath had nothing on hers.

  ‘Mum’s just told me that all these years I thought I had given away a son, but I actually have another daughter.’

  Her mum looked as if Rebecca had slapped her across the face.

  ‘What?’ Her father’s fists bunched and the ugly veins in his neck visibly did the same.

  ‘I said no such thing,’ Jeanie rushed, her tone fearful. She’d always been under her husband’s thumb.

  ‘But it’s true, isn’t it, Dad?’

  The expression on his face told her everything.

  ‘Stop lying to me. Surely after thirty-five years you owe me the truth. Do I have a daughter?’

  Her parents nodded simultaneously, but only her mother’s expression showed the slightest remorse. So, Rebecca hadn’t been going crazy. Her relief was short-lived.

  ‘Why? Why lie?!’

  ‘It was your mother’s idea. It was already done by the time she told me, but it impressed me.’

  And this surprised her almost as much as the shocking truth. ‘What?’ She looked to her mum.

  ‘Whenever you mentioned the baby, you called it a girl,’ Jeannie admitted and Rebecca remembered the intense gut feeling she’d had at the time. ‘I thought because in your head the baby was a girl, you’d be in less pain about giving it up if you thought it was a boy. I was only trying to make things easier for you.’

  ‘Less pain? Easier?’ Rebecca was torn between laughing and crying and grabbing hold of her mother and shaking her silly. ‘There is nothing but pain when you give up a child. I’ve spent decades nursing that pain and it would have been the same no matter what the sex of the baby.’

  ‘What’s brought all this up now?’ her father asked, his voice still irritatingly calm. ‘Is it to do with your disease? Your need for a familial donor?’

  ‘It’s got nothing to do with that.’ She didn’t owe them any kind of explanation and Rebecca couldn’t bear to look at either of them a second longer.

  As she turned and stormed out of the house, her mother still whimpering, her father called out, ‘Don’t do anything stupid. Remember what’s at stake?’

  She resisted the urge to spin on her heel and scream at him. What? What was he referring to? Her marriage? Her relationship with Paige? Or was he still worried about the shame this revelation could bring on him, on them? Even after all these years, did he still care about what people would think about his slutty daughter? In 1983, the world was becoming more accepting of sex before marriage and single mums. But her parents and the church they’d belonged to were not.

  A few moments later she slammed her car door and sat there in silence, trying to digest what she’d just been told.

  Somewhere out there she had another daughter.

  Was it possible Josie was that child?

  Yes, even without the confirmation from the adoption certificate, even without a DNA test, she knew. In her heart, she’d always known she’d recognise her child if she ever met them, and even before she’d entered Josie’s house, she’d had a gut feeling her world was about to change. The question was, what the hell should she do with this information?

  Hugh. Hugh would have the answer.

  Instinctively, she reached into her handbag for her phone, desperate to tell him her suspicions were true, but she stopped herself before pressing ‘call’. A tear snuck down her cheek as she recalled his coldness of a couple of hours ago. He’d made it very clear this was her problem. She may have found a daughter but had she lost her husband in the process? She’d never felt more alone in her life.

  Registering movement in her periphery, Rebecca glanced up to see her mum heading towards her. Although she needed to talk to someone, she didn’t trust herself to let either of her parents be that person, so she put her car into reverse and sped out of the driveway before her mother could get close.

  Clara

  Clara was staring at her bulging suitcase wondering whether she’d packed too much for a four-day cruise when a loud banging sounded on the front door.

  ‘Who on earth could that be?’

  Gregg had left ten minutes ago to take Shadow to his sister’s place and was then going to swing by his house and ‘throw a few things into a bag’ before coming back to collect her. It was probably one of her sisters come to bid her farewell and offer some unsolicited advice about how to behave on your first trip away with a lover. She rolled her eyes and started for the door.

  However, as she got closer, a horrific thought struck: What if it’s Rob?

  This possibility actually made her a little sick. He’d been missing for over a month now and she’d let herself believe he was gone for good. Life was so much less stressful without his drunken messages and phone calls. Her heart pounding, she stopped at the door and stared into the peephole.

  The panic whooshed out of her lungs at the sight of a woman standing there. Maybe the new neighbour? Immediately recognising distress on the woman’s face, she yanked open the door.

  ‘Are you okay?’ she asked, the rescue instincts her sisters teased her about kicking in.

  ‘I’m looking for … Robbie.’ But as the woman spoke, recognition flashed in her face. ‘Clara?’

  It took a few seconds for Clara to click that the woman was a past patient—of course she couldn’t remember her name—and then another few seconds to click what she’d said. What did this woman have to do with Rob?

  ‘I’m … I’m not sure I have the right address.’ The visitor fiddled with her car keys as she nodded towards the road. ‘I found the address for my friend in an old White Pages and it said he lived here. Maybe I should go?’

  A ball of dread formed in Clara’s stomach. ‘What did you say his name was?’

  ‘Robbie. Robert Jones. We were in high school together. Are you his wife?’

  ‘Ex-wife.’

  ‘Oh.’ The woman looked torn between relief and disappointment. ‘Do you have his new address?’

  Again Clara didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to set this woman on Brenda but neither did she know how much to tell her. ‘I looked after you in hospital recently, didn’t I?’ she asked, buying time.

  ‘Yes, thank you. You were very kind. One of my favourite nurses.’

  But that compliment didn’t bring the glow it usually would. A suspicion crept into her heart. ‘Did you say you and Rob were in high school tog
ether?’

  ‘Yes. Do you know where he lives now?’ the woman asked again.

  Rebecca—that was her name. And also the name of Rob’s first serious girlfriend!

  Oh my. Clara grabbed hold of the doorjamb as her suspicions compounded. Even in middle age, this woman looked exactly like Rob’s type, much more than Clara ever had. She wore leggings with a long, flowy, tie-dyed tunic and a faded-denim jacket over the top and had a pink streak in her slightly messy, shoulder-length, brown hair. She had to be his high school sweetheart, his first love and the mother of his baby.

  A million questions sprouted in her mind. She went with the most pertinent. ‘Why are you looking for him?’

  ‘Um.’ Rebecca bit her lip as if unsure or unwilling to reveal all.

  ‘Is it about the baby?’

  She blinked, but her expression told all.

  Clara sighed; part of her wanted to say she had no idea where Robbie was and send this stranger packing, but … All her married life this baby had stood between them. Knowing she’d probably regret this offer, she found herself saying, ‘You’d better come inside.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Because Clara had been brought up well, she made them both a cup of tea and offered her guest a seat at the table.

  ‘How much do you know?’ Rebecca asked, her fingers gripping around her mug so tightly her knuckles were blue and white.

  ‘I know when Rob was seventeen he got his girlfriend pregnant. I’m guessing you were that girlfriend.’

  Rebecca nodded confirmation.

  ‘I know he wanted to make a go of things but wasn’t given a choice. I know his baby was given up for adoption against his will and that he never got over it.’

  Fury flashed in the woman’s eyes. ‘That’s his story?’

  ‘It’s the truth,’ Clara told her, knowing this with absolute certainty, feeling defensive on behalf of her ex. ‘Rob may be a lot of things, but he’s not a liar. You, however, might not know the whole story. Your father threatened him—he told him if he didn’t break up with you, Rob could be charged with sleeping with a minor.’