by Tara Hyland
The most difficult part was persuading Max. At first, he was reluctant, concerned about how hard it would be on Olivia.
‘How will she cope – seeing the baby every day, but not being able to admit it’s her own? It’s a lot for someone her age to deal with.’
Franny was ready for this argument.
‘But what’s the alternative?’ she asked. ‘Forcing her to get rid of it?’
Max recoiled, as she’d known he would. ‘No, of course not!’
‘Then what do you suggest?’ Franny asked forcefully. ‘For her to have the baby – to see it take its first breath and hold it in her arms – only to have to hand it over to a stranger, never to see it again? At least, if we raise the child as our own, Olivia will still be part of her baby’s life.’
Max didn’t answer straight away, and his silence gave Franny hope. She slipped her hand into his. She knew this was the right course of action – if only she could make Max understand.
‘It’s the best solution for everyone,’ she said gently. ‘I promise.’
Max ran a weary hand across his face. The whole incident with his daughter had shaken him badly. Right now, he was willing to accept any solution. He looked up at his wife with resignation in his eyes.
‘Perhaps it would be best if you told her what we’ve agreed to?’
Franny sat on the edge of her stepdaughter’s bed. Lying curled up under her bedclothes, Olivia listened as her stepmother explained what had been decided. Tucked up with a hot water bottle and a mug of hot cocoa, it felt almost like the times she had been ill as a child. It was hard for her to cope with the notion that there was a baby growing inside her. The whole situation felt slightly unreal. She had been ignoring the problem for months, hoping that it would go away. It was almost a relief today when Franny found out. At least now there was someone else to share the burden.
‘So what do you think of our idea?’
Olivia looked up at her stepmother. She was clearly trying to disguise her eagerness, but Olivia could hear it in her voice. Franny was desperate for her to agree to their suggestion, for her father and Franny to raise the child as their own. She supposed, on balance, it seemed like the best solution. It wasn’t like she had any alternative to offer. And she was so scared, had been terrified for months of what was going to happen to her, that it felt good to let a grown-up take charge.
‘I think you’re right,’ she said slowly. ‘It would be for the best.’
‘Oh, darling.’ Franny took Olivia in her arms. If she was aware that her stepdaughter wasn’t returning her embrace, she managed to overlook it. Eventually she pulled away a little. Her expression was earnest as she said, ‘We’ll get through this, sweetheart, I promise. I know it probably seems overwhelming now, but in time you’ll see it’s all for the best. And I will be here, to make sure you have everything you need.’
She looked at Olivia expectantly. The girl got the feeling she was meant to say something in reply. ‘Thank you?’
It was almost a question. Franny beamed. ‘So, on that note, can I get you anything?’ she asked.
Olivia shook her head, trying to think of some way that she would be left alone. ‘No, thank you. I’m just tired now. I’d like to go to sleep, if you don’t mind.’
They were, as she would learn over the next few months, the magic words. Franny immediately got to her feet. ‘Of course you’re tired. How thoughtless of me – I’ll leave you be. Just let me know if you need anything.’
Olivia smiled weakly up at her.
After her stepmother left, Olivia got up from the bed and went over to her dressing-table. There, hidden under a pile of neatly folded scarves, was the gin bottle she’d stolen earlier. She’d first started drinking it after overhearing some girls at school say that gin and a hot bath would get rid of a baby. But by the time she’d found that the alcohol hadn’t worked, she’d developed a taste for it. If nothing else, it helped her forget for a little while. And after the events of the day, that was exactly what she wanted to do.
The deception required a lot of planning. It was decided straight off that Olivia should be permanently removed from her school. The fact that she had been growing distant from her friends and had got herself suspended helped – it was a good justification for why she wasn’t going back.
‘She clearly isn’t thriving under your regime,’ Max told the Headmistress, leaving her in no doubt as to where he felt the blame lay. ‘So it’s been decided that she’ll be home-schooled for the time being.’
They could always get her into another school after the baby was born.
Fooling the outside world was easy enough. There was no reason for anyone to suspect that the baby wasn’t hers, and Franny made sure not to give them one. First, she declared from the rooftops that she was pregnant. She said that she was four months’ gone, a little late for an announcement, but she could justify it by saying that they hadn’t want to jinx it until they were sure.
Luckily Gabriel was away travelling over the summer, and then started at Stanford in the autumn, so they didn’t need to worry about letting him in on what was happening. It would be harder to fool the servants. Max insisted that Hilda should be taken into their confidence.
‘I know you’ve never got on with her,’ he told Franny, ‘but she’s worked here for twenty years, and she’s always been loyal to me.’
Despite her reservations, Franny could see that his suggestion made sense. Hilda could keep the other servants away from her and Olivia. Also, before coming to work for Max she’d had some training as a nurse, so she could monitor the girl during her pregnancy and help at the time of delivery, so they wouldn’t need to get Dr Robertson involved. Knowing his friend would hear about Franny’s pregnancy, Max told him that his wife had decided to go to another practice, saying she felt more comfortable with a female physician. The doctor hadn’t questioned the lie.
The most difficult part was telling Lily that day at Brown Derby. Franny had dreaded the lunch, knowing that she was going to have to lie to her friend’s face. She felt uncomfortable throughout the whole meal, and knew that her shifty behaviour made Lily suspect that something was up. But it had been a necessary part of the plan.
Franny tried to involve Olivia in the preparations for the baby, but her stepdaughter didn’t seem interested. When she asked Olivia to choose colours for the nursery, the girl simply shrugged; when Franny produced a book of names, Olivia responded listlessly.
‘It’s up to you.’
Franny had a feeling that she was still broken-hearted over whoever had fathered the child. She still refused to reveal his identity. It didn’t stop Max asking.
‘I won’t tell you,’ Olivia insisted, her mouth setting into a stubborn line. ‘Whatever you say or do, I won’t tell.’
So Max, concerned about upsetting his daughter in her condition, had to let it go.
Of course as the weeks moved on, it got harder to keep up the hoax. By choice, Olivia rarely left her room, and when she did, her loose clothing concealed her condition from the staff at Stanhope Castle. Max had access to the props department, so he was able to obtain false bumps for Franny, but by the beginning of October, when she was meant to be seven months pregnant, she decided it was too risky to continue seeing outsiders. She therefore announced that, due to high blood pressure, her doctor had recommended that she be confined to bed.
Most of her friends were prepared to accept what she said. After all, they were a squeamish bunch and had no desire to make the journey out to Stanhope Castle unless it was for an elaborate party. The thought of sitting in a darkened room, even for an hour, did not appeal to them. Only Lily – loyal Lily – pressed for a visit.
‘I can come out whenever you want, sweetheart,’ she offered. ‘I’ll bring out some games, keep you entertained.’
Franny had to employ all her acting skills to put her friend off. ‘Oh, darling! It’s awfully kind of you to offer, but I’m a sight at the moment. Honestly, you’ll take one look at m
e and run for the hills!’
But despite Franny’s assurances, Lily wasn’t able to let it go.
‘Everything’s all right there, isn’t it?’ she pressed. ‘Max is treating you well?’
‘He’s being a doll.’
‘Well, as long as you’re sure.’ Lily sounded doubtful, but there was nothing more she could do.
It was hard for Franny, knowing that her friend clearly thought Max was harming her in some way. But once the baby was born, and they could go out in public and let everyone see that they were a happy little family, everything would go back to normal.
A month before the baby was due, Franny went up to Olivia’s room to show her some baby clothes that Hilda had knitted. It was early evening, and her stepdaughter had been in her room most of the day. Knocking lightly, Franny heard a muffled reply, which she assumed meant to come in. She opened the door, putting on the bright smile that she always did when talking about anything to do with the baby. But as she walked in, Franny froze. Olivia was curled up on the window seat, a bottle of gin in her hand.
Hearing her stepmother, Olivia glanced over in Franny’s direction.
‘I told you – go ’way,’ the girl insisted, her eyes unfocused.
She was drunk.
It took Franny a moment to react. Then she charged across the room, snatching the bottle from her stepdaughter.
‘You stupid girl!’ she exploded. ‘Do you know what this could do to the baby?’
Olivia got unsteadily to her feet. ‘That’s all you care ’bout, isn’t it? The baby. Well, I don’t. I want it gone.’ She snatched the bottle back, and took another large gulp.
Franny raised her hand, and without thinking brought it down across her stepdaughter’s face. The girl stumbled backwards, tried to grab the occasional table, but lost her footing and fell heavily to the floor.
‘Oh, God!’ She let out a howl of pain.
Franny clapped her hand to her mouth. What had she done? What kind of person was she, to hit a young girl in that condition?
‘I’m so sorry!’
Franny held out a hand to help her stepdaughter up, but the girl ignored it. Instead, Olivia glared up at her. ‘You bitch,’ she hissed. She opened her mouth to say more, but instead she doubled over in pain – not the kind of pain that comes from a fall, but that of a first contraction.
Franny stared at her stepdaughter in horror. The baby was coming.
Olivia screamed. The sound tore through the house, making the hairs on Franny’s arms stand on end. The servants had been dismissed for the evening, and Franny wished she could have gone with them. She wanted to put her hands over her ears, to shut out the sound; close her eyes, so she wouldn’t have to see the blood. So much blood.
Luckily Hilda was there. She’d taken charge. Max was outside, pacing, worried, but content to leave the birthing to the women.
‘Quiet, now,’ the housekeeper shushed the girl. ‘No need for all this fussing. Plenty before you have done this without such complaining.’
Remembering her own labour, Franny went over to where Olivia lay on the bed, exposed and humiliated, but in too much pain to care. The girl looked up at her with wide, frightened eyes. ‘Make it stop,’ she begged. ‘I can’t stand it any longer.’
Franny took her stepdaughter’s hand. ‘It will all be over soon,’ she promised.
But even to her, the assurance sounded weak.
Olivia let out another scream.
Ten long hours of labour. Screaming. Blood. More screaming.
As the evening wore on, the noise began to subside. By midnight, Olivia lay exhausted on the bed, her body covered in a layer of sweat, her damp hair stuck to her grey face. She could only groan weakly as the contractions ripped through her. There was no sign that the baby was any closer to coming out.
Franny went outside to take a break. But she found that she couldn’t make herself go back in. Unable to stand the sounds, Max had retreated to his study a long time ago.
Even the usually calm housekeeper looked frightened. ‘It shouldn’t be taking this long.’ A grim-faced Hilda had come to stand by Franny’s side. ‘The baby’s in distress. I’ve never seen anything this bad.’ She paused, and then voiced what Franny had been thinking. ‘If we don’t do something soon, I’m worried we’ll lose them both.’
Franny made a decision. ‘I’ll talk to Max.’
Max called his friend, Dr Robertson. The doctor had been at a dinner party and turned up wearing black tie. Franny and Max gave him a brief explanation of what had happened. He looked at them both with undisguised disgust, and then got down to business. He could save the reprimands for later.
‘Where is the girl?’
Max spoke. ‘In her room. I’ll take you there.’
He stood outside, while Franny took the doctor in. Olivia did little more than whimper now as each new contraction came. It was obvious she was fading fast.
The doctor did a quick examination, and then gave his assessment.
‘The baby’s breech. That means its legs are coming out first.’ He was already rolling up his sleeves. ‘It’s too late for a Caesarian, but I’ll see what I can do.’
Franny and Hilda were standing by.
‘How can we help?’ Franny asked.
The doctor looked between the two women. He nodded at Hilda. ‘You can stay.’ Then to Franny, ‘You just stand outside, please.’
Franny and Max held hands together in the hallway. The door was slightly ajar, so they could hear the sounds from inside. There was one last low grunt from Olivia, then a long pause followed by the sound of flesh being slapped. Dr Robertson murmured beneath his breath – whether it was words of encouragement or a prayer, Franny wasn’t sure – but whatever it was must have worked, because suddenly they heard the first cry of the baby.
The door opened, and Dr Robertson stepped out. Franny got a brief glimpse of Hilda holding out the baby to Olivia, who was lying back, exhausted. She felt relief run through her – they were both all right. She looked up at Max and saw that he, too, had seen that everything was fine. They exchanged brief smiles. The doctor told them that Olivia had had a little girl. Max offered him his hand.
‘Thank you for everything. I – I can’t believe they’re both all right.’
Dr Robertson pointedly ignored the outstretched hand. He looked exhausted. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, and his white dress-shirt was smeared with blood.
‘Let me get cleaned up, and we can talk,’ was all he would say.
Franny wanted to ask more, but didn’t dare.
Twenty minutes later, in the privacy of Max’s study, Dr Robertson broke the news to them.
‘Olivia’s baby was deprived of oxygen for too long.’ He made no effort to hide his contempt. It was obvious where he felt the blame for the whole situation lay. Even friendship had its limits. There were some things that couldn’t be excused. ‘I would say that she suffered massive brain damage.’
‘Oh God, no!’ The words were out before Franny could stop them. She clamped a hand over her mouth to stop herself saying anything else.
The doctor carried on as though she hadn’t spoken. ‘It’s hard at this stage to say exactly how bad it is. But I imagine that she’s going to need constant care her entire life.’
There was silence. He’d made no effort to soften the blow, deciding they didn’t deserve it. Franny glanced over at Max. He didn’t look her way.
‘And Olivia?’ Max asked. He looked haggard, as though he was in shock, still waiting for his friend’s words to register. There was no trace of the urbane businessman about him. Usually he was so composed, but after what he’d watched his daughter go through that night, he felt weak and ineffectual. ‘Is she going to be all right?’
‘Physically, yes, eventually she will recover. But psychologically . . .’ The doctor shook his head. ‘Someone her age should never have had to endure this trauma. I think we’ll only know with time how badly she’s been affected.’
Chapt
er Fifty-seven
Cara drove back to Stanhope Castle as fast as she could. Seeing Sophie, finding out about her condition, had changed everything. It was time to act, she decided, clutching the steering wheel tightly as she sped along the twisting coastal roads. It was time to bring this all out into the open.
It was time to confront Max.
She was tired of his games. He was the one who’d invited her to come out here, who had said that he had something to tell her. And then since she’d arrived, he’d gone out of his way to avoid her. She was going to demand that he gave her some answers.
Parking roughly in the driveway, Cara stormed into the house, calling Max’s name as she went. She had never been so angry. Her mother and that husband of hers were no better than each other. Neither of them had thought anything of abandoning Sophie. They’d both been too concerned about themselves to care.
She marched straight to Max’s study. Although she could hear voices coming from inside, she walked in without bothering to knock. Max and Hilda looked up as she came through the door.
‘Excuse me!’ Hilda was on her feet.
Cara ignored the housekeeper, focusing all her attention on Max. ‘We need to talk.’
She’d caught a brief glimpse of Max yesterday, when she’d been in the garden speaking to Gabriel. But this was the first time she’d met him properly. Up close, she could see just how ill he looked. There was little trace of the virile man he’d once been. The cancer had shrunk him, and she could see the liver spots on his hands as he wheeled out from behind his desk to face her.
