Lost Without You

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Lost Without You Page 25

by Rachael Johns


  Rebecca gasped and her tea spilt a little as her hand rushed to cover her mouth. Clara couldn’t bring herself to feel much sympathy. This woman had actually done what Clara had never been able to do and birthed him a living, breathing child. Even though Rebecca was as much a victim as Rob in all of this, she found herself harbouring homicidal thoughts towards her.

  ‘Why are you here now?’ she asked, her grip tightening on her own mug. ‘Have you decided to look for your son?’

  Sniffing, as if trying to hold back tears, Rebecca said, ‘I should probably be talking to Rob about this.’

  Clara snorted—it was kind of a laugh even though she saw nothing funny in this situation. ‘Good luck with that. No one has seen him for over a month. He’s registered as a missing person.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Thanks to your father, Rob is a drunk!’ Although she knew this was a cruel thing to say, Clara couldn’t hold back. All the anger and frustration she’d felt towards her ex-husband, she unleashed on the other woman. ‘He never got over losing his son, the guilt and grief he carried with him ruined our marriage and him. For all I know he’s finally done what he’s been threatening to do for years or even accidentally done himself in. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t tell you where he is.’

  ‘Oh my God.’ Rebecca reached into her bag for a tissue. ‘I knew my father was a hard man, but I never knew he was such a monster. However, after what I’ve learnt this morning, nothing surprises me about my parents. All these years, I thought Robbie didn’t care. He came to see me once, almost twenty years ago now and—’

  ‘He came to see you?’ That was news to Clara. She’d always supported him in his desire to look for his son, but aside from the groups she’d encouraged him to post messages in, as far as she knew all he’d done was lament. He’d never mentioned making contact with Rebecca. The fact he hadn’t confided in her was another stab to the heart.

  ‘He was off his face. He wasn’t making much sense but said he wanted to find our baby. I couldn’t set someone in such a mess on our child. I made him go away, but promised to tell him if they ever came looking.’

  Clara’s chest tingled. She put her hand there to steady her heart. ‘And has he? Made contact?’

  ‘She,’ Rebecca whispered. ‘We had a girl. The boy was a lie my parents concocted to throw me off the path or something.’

  Clara’s head spun; this was too much to digest. ‘How could you have not known the sex of your baby?’

  ‘I wasn’t allowed to hold him. There was a sheet up so I couldn’t see the delivery. They took him, her, and wrapped her in a blanket. The midwife only let me see her from a distance.’

  Clara glanced at the clock wondering if it was too early for a stronger drink. ‘So has she made contact?’

  ‘No. But I think I’ve met her.’

  Despite not wanting to get involved, Clara couldn’t help being curious. Rob’s child had lingered in her life like an unsolved mystery for years—could she finally be about to hear the missing clue?

  ‘Well?’ she prompted. ‘Are you going to tell me?’

  Rebecca deliberated a moment but years of nursing people through hard times and her volunteer work had made Clara an expert in reading other people’s expressions; she wanted to talk. ‘It’s a complicated story.’

  Clara resisted the urge to tap her foot—normally she was a good listener but she didn’t have all day. ‘I’m all ears.’

  ‘A couple of months ago, Paige, my daughter, got engaged.’

  ‘Congratulations,’ Clara said automatically.

  Rebecca almost smiled. ‘Thanks. Anyway, Paige decided she wanted to wear my wedding dress, but I gave it away to charity years ago. When Paige wants something she doesn’t stop until she gets it. She tracked down the second owner of the dress, but she got divorced a couple of years ago and gave her dress to an op shop. Paige and her friend searched high and low, but—’

  Clara was getting impatient. ‘What’s this dress have to do with Rob’s baby?’

  ‘She wore it next.’ This declaration wasn’t much more than a whisper. ‘When Paige couldn’t find the dress, she put a call out on Facebook. These days it seems social media is the answer to all life’s problems,’ Rebecca mused, but Clara wasn’t in the mood for such observations.

  ‘And?’ she prodded.

  ‘Oh.’ Rebecca shook her head slightly. ‘She found the dress—a woman called Josie got married in it not too long ago. Her husband bought it from the op shop. Josie’s obsessed with the eighties so he knew she’d love it.’

  But Clara didn’t hear the last bit. Something deep in her subconscious twanged. She thought of the Josie she knew—her flamboyant dress style and the passion for eighties movies she’d confessed to Brenda—and then sucked in a breath as she thought of their conversation the day they’d run into each other in the supermarket. Distracted with thoughts of Brenda, Clara hadn’t been listening properly when Josie mentioned she’d met a new friend through a wedding dress.

  Her chest tightened. Could she have taken this girl unwittingly to Brenda’s house? Encouraged them to meet, to talk. Her breathing grew difficult. Was it possible she’d sat opposite Rob’s child so many times and not known?

  No, Clara didn’t want to believe it, but this—this could not be a coincidence.

  ‘I think I know her.’

  ‘You do?’ Rebecca blinked. ‘How?’

  Clara swallowed, not wanting to break Josie’s confidence. ‘We met through an organisation I volunteer with. I’ve been helping her deal with … some things.’

  ‘Her miscarriages?’

  Cold filled Clara’s lungs. That confirmed it—they were talking about the same woman. ‘You know about them?’

  ‘Yes. My daughter, Paige, and Josie have become friends and Paige mentioned them. Poor girl.’

  ‘So, Josie wore the dress next and you think she’s …’ Clara couldn’t really wrap her head around what Rebecca was trying to say.

  ‘Yes. I think she’s my and Robbie’s baby.’

  And then she went on to explain it all—how she’d gone to Josie’s place to see the dress and seen a photo of a baby that looked exactly like the one she’d given up.

  ‘All newborn babies look similar. Maybe you were mistaken?’

  ‘I know, and at first I thought I was going crazy, but I swear the photos are the same and I also saw a photo of Josie in her wedding dress …’ She paused a moment. ‘It could have been me. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since. Finally, I confronted my parents this morning and that’s when they admitted I did in fact have a girl. So I have to wonder if I’m right about Josie. Surely a mother would know these things?’

  Before Clara could say she wouldn’t know, Rebecca added, ‘Of course, I could be wrong. It’s all just a hunch at this stage, but before I saw the photo, I’d already requested the information, so within a couple of weeks, I’ll know for certain.’

  Clara tried to think back through her interactions with Josie—had she ever said anything about being adopted?

  Even though this whole thing sounded far-fetched, Clara couldn’t shake the feeling that Rebecca was onto something. Not only did she look like Rob’s type but her eyes, her ridiculously long dark lashes, her bow-shaped mouth and the way her nose twitched when she was upset were all uncannily similar to Josie. They had different chins though.

  Josie has Rob’s chin.

  The thought almost knocked her off her chair. How had she never noticed it before? Apparently Rob’s father had also had a prominent sticky-out chin and Brenda always said it was the first thing she and her husband had noticed when Rob was born.

  But of course, Clara had never been looking for such similarities.

  Oh Lord, if this was true, how was she going to act normal around Josie again knowing what she did? And … Josie and Brenda. She’d introduced them herself. Clara’s morning muesli churned in her stomach. Talk about timing—for thirty-five years all Rob could think about was one da
y finding and meeting his child. Now it looked like she’d walked right into Clara’s life but where on earth was he?

  Until now, she’d not hassled the police to ask what they were doing or even thought about ways she could track him down herself, but she couldn’t help wondering if this information would save him. It was too late for them—she didn’t want him back—but would there be a sense of satisfaction, of closure, in being able to help him connect with his child?

  Then again, Josie was in a tender, emotional state right now. This news could push her over the edge.

  ‘Have you told Josie your suspicions yet?’

  Rebecca shook her head. ‘No—I came looking for Robbie thinking maybe we could work out what to do together.’

  Clara almost laughed—Rob could barely take care of himself, the idea of him being able to even think about everyone else involved in this scenario and make a sensible decision was laughable.

  ‘What do you think I should do?’ Rebecca asked.

  Clara wasn’t sure whether her loyalties lay with Rob or with Josie, but they certainly didn’t lie with this woman. Then a thought struck—Rebecca said she’d already requested information before seeing the photo. Loathing bubbled within her. ‘You need a kidney donor. Is that why you suddenly decided to look for your child now?’

  ‘No, that’s not it at all.’ Rebecca’s words spilled out in a rush. ‘I’ve always buried the adoption because it was too painful to think about, but my kidney failure diagnosis gave me a scare. I realised I didn’t want to die not knowing about my son. I mean my daughter.’

  Clara wasn’t sure whether she believed her or not.

  ‘I’m honestly not after Josie for a kidney,’ Rebecca appealed. ‘My daughter’s fiancé has offered to go on the Paired Kidney Exchange Program with me, but even if he hadn’t, I would never ask or expect such a thing of Josie.’

  ‘Maybe not, but how’s Josie going to feel finding out her father is missing and her mother seriously ill? The exchange program isn’t a sure thing—you’ll not only need to find another pair that matches you and your daughter’s boyfriend, but the timing also needs to be right. Josie might feel pressured to get tested. As you know, she’s not in the best emotional place right now. I think your best bet is waiting for the clarification, and then if Josie is your daughter, you’ll need to find out whether or not she has any desire to meet her biological parents. If not—’

  ‘And how do I do that without it being obvious?’ Rebecca sounded desperate.

  Clara understood she was distressed but she was sick of Rebecca interrupting. She threw her hands up in the air and stood. ‘I don’t know. This is not my problem! Right now, I’m going on a cruise with my … friend.’ She still couldn’t bring herself to say partner or boyfriend. ‘And I need to finish getting ready, so I’m going to have to ask you to leave.’

  ‘Oh. Okay.’ Rebecca’s tears had eased a while ago but they looked close to returning now. ‘Thank you for your time. Can I give you my number?’

  Clara hit her with a look of disbelief.

  ‘In case you learn anything else about Josie or Rob turns up. I’d like to know he’s okay and … keep him informed.’

  Clara sighed, then picked up a pen and her shopping list pad off the bench and handed it to the other woman. ‘Write it here.’

  Josie

  Buttoning up his shirt, Nik walked into the bathroom as Josie retrieved a tampon from the vanity cupboard.

  ‘Bugger,’ he said, nodding towards the packet and then taking her in his arms. ‘You okay?’

  ‘Yes. I am,’ she told him truthfully, but didn’t add that she was strangely relieved. The past few weeks she’d finally been beginning to feel like herself again and although part of her desperately wanted to find herself pregnant, the fear of what could happen if she was had been eating her up these last couple of days while she’d been waiting for her period. This felt like a temporary reprieve from that anxiety.

  ‘Do you want me to call in sick to work? We could order in pizza and watch a movie.’

  ‘No, it’s fine.’ Pizza and a movie were on her agenda, but not with him. ‘Remember, I told you, I have plans tonight.’

  He raised an eyebrow and started on his buttons again. ‘That’s right, Saturday night and you’re going to hang out with some strange old woman.’

  His tone was teasing but there was also an element of disbelief in it. Did he think Brenda was a ruse and really she was off out on the town to drink her sorrows? She made a mental note to take a selfie of them together and send it to him. Perhaps she’d send it to Clara as well, although she wasn’t sure whether she’d have reception on the ship.

  ‘She’s not strange.’ Josie swatted him. ‘She’s lonely and not very mobile. I’m doing a favour for Clara, but it’s actually a real pleasure to spend time with her. I like listening to her stories and it beats sitting home alone with my thoughts. Go, I’m honestly fine and you can’t keep cancelling work on my account or you’ll have no job left to go to.’

  ‘Alright. Well, you call me if you need to talk or anything, okay?’ He kissed her firmly on the lips.

  ‘I will.’ She smiled and then shoved him out of the bathroom.

  When she was done, she packed some microwave popcorn, a few cans of soft drink and some other treats into a bag and then drove the short distance to Brenda’s place.

  ‘Hello, love.’ The older woman’s face lit up as she opened the door and Josie glowed inside at the knowledge she was making someone’s night better.

  ‘How are you feeling today?’ she asked as they went into the kitchen, Josie walking slowly to keep in step with Brenda’s shuffling.

  ‘Can’t complain, but it’s lovely to see you, dear.’

  Josie smiled; she got the feeling Brenda wasn’t the type to complain about much. She’d seen her twice already this week—once for their first movie night on Tuesday, and then she’d popped in yesterday morning on her way to school to see if there was anything Brenda needed her to grab from the shops. But Clara had left her cupboards well stocked and the visits were more about company than anything else. And Josie had meant it when she’d told Nik she enjoyed spending time here; old people had a lot of wisdom to offer if you bothered to pay attention.

  ‘So, what kind of pizza do you like?’ she asked now as she put her bags on the table. ‘Are there any toppings you definitely don’t want?’

  Brenda’s eyes widened. ‘My pizzas are usually in a box from the freezer in the supermarket, I’ve never had it home delivered before. Is it like a restaurant? Can you really pick and choose what you want?’

  ‘You really can.’ Josie stifled a chuckle. ‘So what’s it to be? Pineapple? Anchovies? Mushrooms? Let’s go to town. I’m feeling like indulging tonight.’

  ‘Oh, is something wrong, dear?’

  Josie considered telling her about her period but decided that was probably too much information at this stage in their relationship. ‘No,’ she said, ‘I’m all good, but any excuse to indulge I reckon.’

  Brenda laughed. Together they concocted a fantasy pizza and then Josie called it in to the local Italian restaurant.

  ‘Next step, the movie,’ Brenda said. ‘What are you in the mood for?’

  ‘Something funny,’ Josie replied. ‘Any suggestions?’

  ‘Why don’t you come and peruse my collection? I’m sorry but I need to sit down anyway, I can’t stand on this foot for long.’

  ‘Oh God, I’m sorry, I should have thought.’ Josie ushered Brenda into the living room and helped her into her recliner. She draped a crocheted rug over her knees and then turned her attention to the shelves.

  ‘What’s this one about?’ she asked holding up a movie called My Favourite Wife.

  Brenda smiled. ‘That was one of the few movies my husband and I agreed on. Generally, he preferred action films.’

  ‘Nik’s the same,’ Josie said. ‘Unless there’s a massive body count, he doesn’t think it’s worth watching. So what’s it about?’


  ‘A lawyer whose wife has been missing for seven years. Finally, he marries someone else, and while he’s on his honeymoon with the new wife, the old one turns up. She’d been stranded on a deserted island all that time.’

  ‘I’m up for that.’ Josie popped it in the DVD player and went off to get the drinks.

  ‘Thank you, dear,’ Brenda said when she returned a few moments later. ‘It’s nice to have company. I really enjoyed watching The Graduate with you the other night. It’s been a long time since I had someone to watch movies with.’

  Josie took to the couch. ‘Rob doesn’t watch movies with you?’

  ‘Not really. Between you and me, he’s not always that good company. I’m not sure how much Clara has told you about him?’

  ‘Not much; she mentioned he struggles with addiction.’

  ‘Yes. He’s fond of the bottle alright and that only makes the depression he’s battled for years worse. Not that he ever admitted he had a problem.’ Brenda sighed sadly. ‘I always wondered if things would have been different if his father hadn’t died, if he’d had a strong male role model growing up.’

  ‘How did he?’ Josie hoped Brenda didn’t mind the question.

  ‘In a mining accident. He worked in the Cobar gold mines long before occupational health and safety was a priority. He was underground when a concrete block fell down the raise and crushed him. They tell me it was instant. Robbie was only two.’ She nodded to a photo frame above the TV. ‘That’s them a couple of weeks before Mal died. He was such a good husband and father.’

  As Josie gazed at the photo of a young man in faded jeans and a Bonds Chesty singlet with a little boy with what looked like Vegemite smeared on his cheeks, her heart ached for Brenda. She’d lost her love so young and now it looked like she might have lost her only son as well.

  ‘He looks lovely,’ Josie said. ‘But you were widowed so young, did you never find anyone else?’

 

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