This Child of Mine

by Sinéad Moriarty

  But for now Laura was going to enjoy every second of her time alone with Sophie, her daughter. They had a lot of catching up to do.

  31.

  Sophie

  Killduf, July 2011

  Sophie continued ignoring Anna. Her mother rang every day and left a message on her phone, telling her she loved her, she missed her, and asking her to forgive her and let her back into her life.

  Sophie found the messages really upsetting. She could hear the pain in her mother’s voice. She knew how much she was hurting Anna with her silence, but she couldn’t face talking to her. She wasn’t ready. She felt obligated to stay with Laura and spend time with her ‘real’ family. They had suffered so much from losing her. They deserved her time and devotion. And she wanted to get to know them too.

  Sometimes, though, it all got too much. Sophie found the constant attention draining. Joan was the hardest to deal with because she was so intense and didn’t try to hide it, like Laura did. Sophie could feel Laura watching her all the time, but at least she held back. Joan insisted on touching her or holding her hand or asking her incessant questions. She would often start crying when Sophie told her about the things she had done or the places she had gone. At times, it was difficult to handle.

  And Mandy, with whom she had got on well initially, was suddenly cold and distant. Sophie could see that all the attention she was getting was hard for her sister. But it didn’t give her the right to be rude. The worst part was that they were sharing a room and Laura had insisted that Sophie sleep in Mandy’s bed while Mandy slept on a blow-up mattress on the floor.

  It was great having Lexie around: she always defused the tension. Sophie adored her. She was wise and kind, and seemed to sense when Sophie was feeling overwhelmed.

  Sophie was lying propped up on Mandy’s bed, sketching. Laura was in her studio working on an overdue commission and Lexie was in her bedroom working on the last few chapters of her book. Sophie was feeling calm and enjoying the peace, when she heard Mandy singing in the garden.

  ‘Mother stalker where have you gone,

  Your light’s shining on the long-lost spawn,

  You worship at her feet every day,

  Ignoring everything I have to say.

  We were two and now we’re three,

  What does this mean for meeeeee?

  I rock and you know it,

  With my clever wit.

  I write awesome lyrics,

  And play my guitar,

  But, no, I don’t paint and see colours,

  Like my ghost sister does.

  So I’m dumped on the trash heap,

  Disregarded like a …

  ‘Sheep, leap, keep, cheap? Oh, yeah, cheap.’ Mandy sounded excited. She continued to sing:

  ‘Disregarded like some cheae

  Piece of material you no longer need,

  You must be careful and pay me some heed.

  I’ll run away and then you’ll be sorry,

  You dissed me like – um, calamari?

  ‘No – porry, lorry, norry, morry? Damn I need to change that line.

  ‘I’ll run away and you’ll be so sad,

  I’ll go and stay with my dad,

  Even though his wife is a nightmare,

  And treats me like an au-pair,

  I’ll be happier there … nananananananana.’

  The bedroom door opened and Lexie popped her head in. ‘What do you reckon, Sophie? Is Mandy the next Rihanna? Eminem? Lily Allen?’ They giggled.

  Lexie came and sat on the end of the bed. She was wearing a fuchsia velour Juicy Couture tracksuit with silver wedge-heel runners. ‘How are you doin’, darlin’? Is your poor head completely melted? I reckon you’ve had more to deal with these past few weeks than most people ’ave in a lifetime. Are you seein’ them colours now? Green’s your bad colour, innit?’

  Sophie nodded. The last couple of weeks had been a swirl of red and pink, and when she thought of Anna all alone, she saw green for pain.

  ‘Don’t mind Mandy and her mad songs. It’s just her way of expressin’ herself. It’s been hard on her too, I reckon. She’s only sixteen, bless her. It’s a terrible age. You don’t know which way is up.’

  Sophie laid her head back on the soft pillow. ‘Lexie, my life used to be so normal and, well, boring, really. But I liked it that way. I went to school, went home, had dinner with Mum, did my homework, we’d watch TV together or my friend Holly would come round and we’d listen to music in my bedroom and that was it. A very mundane life. Holly was always talking about travelling and seeing the world but I was happy to stay in London and go to art college and live with Mum. I know it sounds a bit lame but I liked spending time with her. How many children get to spend their lives with someone who lights up every time they see them? My mum thinks I’m the best thing in the world and she told me so every day. But now everyone thinks she’s a monster.’

  Lexie crossed her legs, making herself comfortable on the bed. ‘The way I see it, you was lucky. Laura was in a bad way that day, and you could have been nicked by a bad person, someone who could have harmed you. But instead you was stolen by someone who really wanted a kid. I know Anna keeps going on about saving you from Laura, but I think she saved you cos she wanted a kid herself. Seems to me she was born to be a mum and yet she never had no children. Why is that?’

  ‘I don’t know. She never talked about her past and just said she had me late in life and that my dad was a one-night stand but she was thrilled to be pregnant.’

  Lexie stood up. ‘I hope you don’t mind, darlin’, but I’ve been doin’ a bit of snoopin’. Something just didn’t seem right about her story. It just didn’t add up – nickin’ a kid because her mother was drunk. I felt there had to be more to it. I dunno, maybe it’s because I know what it’s like to want kids and not be able to have ’em. Anyways, when you told me your surname was Roberts, I started searching on the Internet for an Anna Roberts and the year you was taken, but nothing came up. But then I stretched it to two years before you was taken and I found a match.’ Lexie pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket. ‘I printed this out two days ago. I’ve been waiting for the right time to give it to you. I didn’t want nobody else to see – it’s too personal. I reckon it’ll help you understand why Anna done it, though.’

  Sophie unfolded the piece of paper with trembling hands. It was a death notice from the Irish Times, dated 24 January 1993: Hope Sophie Roberts – beloved infant daughter of Barry Roberts and Anna Roberts (née Hogan).

  Sophie looked at Lexie. ‘What does … what is …’

  ‘It means that Anna had a baby girl who died, and that baby would have the been the same age you was when she saw you on that boat and stole you.’

  ‘Who’s Barry?’

  ‘Looks like Anna was married to a bloke called Barry Roberts. I reckon after the baby died they split up. It happens to lots of couples who lose a child. She probably decided to go to London and start a new life, then saw you on that boat, bein’ ignored an’ all, and something inside her flipped and she took you.’

  ‘Poor Mum.’ Sophie began to weep. ‘I had no idea.’

  Lexie drew Sophie to her and held her as she sobbed. ‘How could you know? How could anyone have guessed? It explains a lot, though, don’t it? Poor old Anna.’

  They sat like that for a while, Sophie crying, Lexie comforting her.

  They heard voices outside. ‘Yo, I’m looking for Sophie. Is this the right gaff?’

  ‘Um, yes, but who …’ Mandy was stuck for words.

  Sophie bolted from the bed and rushed to the window. ‘Mark?’ she exclaimed.

  He looked up. ‘Hey, babe, what’s up?’

  Mandy was staring at him open-mouthed. Mark was wearing jeans and a navy blue T-shirt, and his hair was gelled up in a small Mohican. His skin was brown from the sun and made his green eyes – the same colour as his dad’s – even more striking.

  ‘I’m coming down,’ she said.

  Lexie stuck her head out of th
e window. ‘Cor, he’s a bit of all right,’ she whispered. ‘Is he your boyfriend?’

  Sophie laughed. ‘No. He’s my oldest friend. He’s like a brother to me.’

  ‘Look at Mandy’s face. She’ll catch flies if she don’t shut her mouth soon.’

  Sophie ran downstairs and out into the garden. She threw herself into Mark’s arms, thrilled to see a familiar face.

  ‘Dude, you look like crap,’ he said, taking in the dark shadows under her eyes and her skinny frame.

  ‘You look great.’ Sophie grinned.

  ‘I know, the tan rocks. Seriously, I’m scoring some top-class birds at the moment.’

  ‘Hello! Are you going to introduce me or what?’ Mandy frowned.

  ‘Sorry. Mark, this is my half-sister Mandy. And, Mandy, this is my oldest friend, Mark.’

  ‘Nice guitar,’ Mark said.

  ‘Thanks. Do you play?’

  ‘Yeah, I’m in a band. I play bass.’

  ‘Cool. What kind –’

  Ignoring her, Mark turned back to Sophie. ‘So, your mum is totally freaking out. I’ve been sent down to talk sense into you.’

  ‘You! Talk sense to me?’ Sophie giggled.

  ‘I know, it’s a first, right?’

  ‘I like your T-shirt. I’m a Grateful Dead fan too,’ Mandy said.

  Mark looked blankly at her. ‘What?’

  ‘The Grateful Dead.’ Mandy pointed to his T-shirt.

  ‘Is that who these dudes are? I just grabbed it from my room-mate this morning. All my gear is rancid. I haven’t made it to the launderette in, like, weeks.’

  ‘Charming!’ Sophie laughed. It was so nice to see him.

  ‘So, what’s the story? Are you, like, hanging here for a while or what? Dad told me to come back with concrete information.’

  ‘This is where she belongs. We’re her family,’ Mandy said.

  ‘Wooooooooow.’ Mark was staring over Mandy’s shoulder. ‘That is a magnificent rack.’

  ‘Hello.’ Lexie beamed at him. ‘Nice to meet you – Mark, innit? Any friend of Sophie’s is a friend of mine. I’m Lexie.’

  ‘Very nice to meet you.’

  ‘Look up, darlin’. Me face is up here.’

  Mark grinned. ‘Sorry, but they are impressive.’

  Lexie cupped her boobs. ‘Best surgeon in London. Ten grand they cost.’

  ‘Money well spent.’ Mark ogled them.

  ‘So, what you doin’? Tryin’ to get our Sophie to go back to Anna?’

  Mark held up his hands. ‘I come in peace. Don’t shoot the messenger. I was sent down to make sure Sophie’s OK and to ask her to call her mother. My dad thinks Anna’s in a very bad way. He’s worried about her.’

  ‘So she should be, bloody kidnapper,’ Mandy said.

  Mark turned to her. ‘I know it looks like she’s a psycho, but she’s actually a cool person. You should cut her some slack.’

  Mandy went bright red. ‘Um … well, I suppose …’

  ‘The only reason Sophie here is so normal – well, square and boring and perfect – is because Anna, like, worshipped at her feet.’

  ‘I am not!’ Sophie thumped his arm playfully.

  ‘Dude, your idea of fun is a game of Scrabble.’

  ‘Bugger off! It is not!’

  ‘OK, Trivial Pursuit.’

  ‘What do you like?’ Mandy asked Mark.

  ‘Sex ’n’ drugs ’n’ rock ’n’ roll.’

  Mandy blushed an even deeper shade of red.

  ‘I like a karaoke night myself,’ Lexie admitted.

  ‘I know a really good karaoke bar I’d like to show you.’ Mark raised an eyebrow suggestively.

  ‘Steady on, Romeo, I’m a married woman.’

  ‘And your point is?’ He smirked at her.

  ‘You cheeky bugger!’ Lexie cackled. ‘Right, I’m going inside to finish my book tapes before Frank shoots me.’

  ‘You’re unbelievable,’ Sophie scolded him.

  ‘I’m only human – she’s a hottie.’

  ‘Is blonde your type?’ Mandy asked, looking at Mark from under her fringe.

  ‘I don’t have a type. I’m open to all offers.’ He winked at her.

  Sophie wanted Mandy to go away so she could talk to him properly. ‘Hey, why don’t we go for a walk on the beach?’ she suggested.

  ‘Cool,’ Mandy said.

  Sophie was not letting Mandy come: she needed some space. ‘Actually, Mandy, I was kind of hoping to talk to Mark alone. We haven’t seen each other in ages.’

  Mandy’s face darkened. ‘Be a bitch, why don’t you.’

  ‘I’m not. I just want to talk to my friend.’

  ‘What about when I want to talk to my mum or my granny or my uncle and all they’re doing is staring at you and following you around? Do I make you feel like shit? Do I make you feel like a spare tool?’ Mandy stormed off.

  Sophie called after her, ‘I’m sorry I didn’t –’

  Mark pulled her towards the beach. ‘Forget it. She’s got the hump. You don’t need that negative energy around you.’

  He slung his arm around her and she leaned into his shoulder. It felt so nice, cosy, familiar. They walked down the steep steps that led to the beach. It was a cloudy day but the air was warm. They took off their shoes and paddled in the cold sea water.

  Mark then walked over to a sand dune and sat down. He took out some tobacco and grass and began to roll a joint.

  Sophie stopped him. ‘Before you smoke it, tell me about Mum. Have you seen her?’

  ‘No, I’ve been away doing some gigs so I haven’t called over to Dad’s place.’ He rolled as he talked. ‘I swear, when he last called me up and told me Anna had abducted you, I thought I’d fried my brain with weed. I kept asking him to repeat it. Of all the people in the world, Anna? In a million years I’d never have imagined it.’

  Sophie lay back, her head behind her hands, her toes nestling in the sand. ‘Tell me about it. I still can’t believe it.’

  Mark lit his joint and began to smoke. He offered some to Sophie. For once she was tempted: she’d have liked to smoke it and get away from her reality. But she was afraid: what if she reacted badly or something? She couldn’t very well arrive back to dinner stoned out of her head. Laura would flip. She didn’t want to disappoint her.

  ‘What shall I do, Mark? Tell me what to do.’

  He exhaled a long thin line of smoke. ‘Do what feels right. You’re not a kid any more. You can make your own decisions. If you want to stay here and get to know your birth mum and your weird half-sister, stay. If it feels too freaky, go back to Anna for a while. Or you can crash with me if you want to get away from it all. It’s a bit of a dump, but we’ve got a couch and it’s yours if you want it.’

  ‘Thanks. It’s good to know I’ve got somewhere to run to. I just feel that whatever decision I make will hurt someone and I hate that.’

  Mark lay down beside her. ‘Sophie, stop worrying about everyone else. Stop trying to be perfect. Just do what you want to do. Think about yourself and stop people-pleasing. Seriously, dude, you need to live a little. Shake off the convent-school Catholic-guilt thing.’

  ‘It’s easier said than done. I only left school three weeks ago!’ Sophie reminded him.

  ‘Why don’t you come out with me and my mates? Some chick from college grew up in a mansion in Wicklow and her folks are going away so she’s throwing a massive party the week after next. It’ll be a free-for-all. You can bring Morticia Addams if you want.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Your sister with the black hair and the Gothic vibe. She needs to lighten up. What is it with your family? Anna’s way too uptight too. Blow off a little steam, drink some vodka, loosen up.’

  Sophie laughed. ‘And end up like you? Permanently stoned and at one with the universe?’

  Mark grinned. ‘It’s pretty cool – you should try it some time. Bring your friend with the Baywatch tits.’

  Sophie rolled on to her side to face him. ‘Lexie i
s not going to come to some college house party.’

  ‘Man, I’d like me a piece of that arse.’

  ‘Forget it. She’s married to Dougie Granger.’

  ‘The Chelsea footballer?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What the hell is she doing here? Is this some kind of commune?’

  ‘No, she’s hiding from him while she writes her autobiography. They’ve split up.’

  Mark waved his joint in the air. ‘Sophie Roberts, abducted child, living with WAGs and Goths. A few weeks ago you were a nice quiet schoolgirl!’

  ‘I liked it that way.’

  ‘Fuck it, Sophie, this makes you a lot more interesting – and look at the up-side. You’ve got a lot of material to put into your paintings now! You can channel all that anger and confusion and heartache into awesome art.’

  ‘Thanks, Mark, you’ve really cheered me up. I was feeling very low and overcome before you arrived. I really needed a friend to talk to. Someone who knows me and Anna and my former life. You know?’ She turned to him – but he was sound asleep, the end of his joint burning in his hand. Sophie removed it from his fingers, put it out and leaned her head against his chest, enjoying the comfort of his presence.

  A few days later, Laura was putting the dinner plates on the table. ‘Ta-dah! Thai green chicken curry,’ she announced.

  ‘Very posh.’ Lexie grinned.

  ‘Laura! You’ve outdone yourself.’ Frank winked at her.

  ‘It’s Sophie’s favourite.’ Laura beamed, and Sophie winced. She could see Mandy’s face going bright red.

  ‘I hate curry,’ Mandy snapped.

  ‘Thanks, Laura, it looks lovely.’ Sophie picked up her fork, determined to be polite.

  ‘It’s too bloody spicy. I can’t eat it.’ Mandy pushed her plate away.

  ‘I made it mild. Try it,’ Laura encouraged her.

  Mandy took a small bite. ‘Gross.’

  ‘You’re spicy enough as it is.’ Frank laughed.

  ‘I think it tastes dead nice,’ Lexie said. ‘Me and Dougie used to get takeaway once a week on a Sunday night. He likes the real spicy one, the red one, innit? I used to get the yellow one. We’d watch a movie and roll up to bed.’