This Child of Mine

by Sinéad Moriarty

  Sophie chewed her lip. ‘It looks that way. Holly, it’s all so complicated. I don’t know who to feel more sorry for, Anna or Laura. They’ve suffered so much, and they both made terrible mistakes but they’re really good people. Honestly, my head’s constantly pounding. I don’t know what to do. Every decision I make hurts someone.’

  ‘You have to do what feels right. Follow your gut. Are you seeing loads of green?’

  ‘Tons – and yellow because I’m still angry with Anna for taking me and with Laura for being so drunk.’

  ‘Look on the bright side. You’ll never have to look for inspiration for your paintings – your life’s so much more extraordinary than anyone else’s.’

  Sophie laughed. ‘True.’

  ‘I’d better go. I start my shift at seven. I’m going to give William one last chance. I’ve rolled up my skirt so it’s really short and I’ve had my hair blow-dried. If he doesn’t fancy me tonight then I give up. Are there any nice Irish boys over there?’

  ‘I haven’t met anyone apart from the family, but Mandy met Mark and I think she fancies him.’

  ‘Judging by his photos it’d be difficult not to. I think I should come over and check him out. But until I can work out how to get there – without my mum being suspicious or Jessie following me – keep that grumpy sister of yours away from Mark. I need some action.’

  Sophie grinned. ‘OK, I will. Talk soon.’

  ‘Very soon, please. Don’t leave it for long. I miss you, Sophie. My family’s driving me insane – I need you and Anna and your sanity next door.’

  ‘OK, ’bye. Good luck with William!’

  Sophie hung up and smiled to herself. She felt better, as she always did after talking to Holly. It reminded her of her old life. Her good life. Her happy life. Her stress-free life. Her life …

  35.

  Anna

  Killduf, July 2011

  Anna chose a table opposite the door of the café. She wanted to see Sophie the minute she walked in. Then she wouldn’t miss a second of this meeting. She had been ecstatic when Sophie had finally called and asked to see her.

  They had arranged to meet in the coffee shop in Killduf. Anna had arrived half an hour early and was already on her second coffee. She tried to read the newspaper the waitress had offered her, but she couldn’t concentrate. Every time the door opened her heart skipped a beat.

  Joe was worried about her. He said she needed more rest and recuperation after her procedure and that she was supposed to avoid stress. But he knew it was pointless to try to stop her seeing Sophie. Nothing would stop Anna being with her daughter. Besides, Anna had told him, the ulcer had settled down since the gastroscopy and the tablets were easing her discomfort. She just felt a bit tired. But not now, not today. Today, she felt hopeful, excited and nervous. She prayed they wouldn’t argue. She prayed their meeting would be different from the last one when Sophie had screamed at her, called her an abductor and stormed off.

  Anna needed to be calm. She needed to let Sophie talk, but she also needed to be Sophie’s mother. She could sense how lost and lonely Sophie was. She knew her inside and out. She knew every bone in her body and every hair on her head. She understood Sophie better than anyone else could. She loved her more than anyone else could.

  But Anna knew that she had betrayed Sophie’s trust in the worst way – with lies and deceit. She knew that Sophie was reeling from the betrayal. She knew that Sophie needed to lash out at her and blame her. But she hoped against hope that Sophie would come around to seeing that she had done the right thing at the right time. That she would understand Anna had saved her on that day, in that moment, on that ship when she was being neglected by her drunken mother.

  The door opened and Sophie walked in. Anna had almost forgotten how breathtaking Sophie was. She was wearing new clothes: a lilac blouse, white jeans and sandals. Laura must have taken her shopping. Anna felt her chest tighten. ‘Relax!’ she scolded herself. ‘You must keep calm and composed.’

  Sophie saw Anna and came over to her. When she reached her mother, she hesitated. Anna stood up and took control. Resisting the urge to hug her daughter and never let her go, she simply leaned over and gave Sophie a kiss on the cheek. Her daughter looked relieved and sat on the chair opposite.

  ‘It’s so good to see you,’ Anna said.

  ‘You too.’ Sophie blushed.

  Anna could see how uncomfortable she was. She needed to make Sophie relax. She didn’t want her to run away again. She wanted her to feel safe and secure.

  ‘Would you like a latte?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  Anna ordered it and turned back to her daughter. ‘You look lovely. How are you? How are you getting on?’

  Sophie twisted her necklace. ‘I’m fine. I’m just … um … just trying to work things out.’

  ‘I know. It must be hard for you.’

  Sophie looked surprised. ‘Well, yes, it is.’

  Anna sipped her coffee. She put her cup down and looked directly into her daughter’s blue eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Sophie. I’m sorry about everything that happened and the way it happened. But I’m not sorry that I got to be your mum. It’s been a pleasure and a privilege and I’ve cherished every single moment of it.’

  Sophie’s eyes began to water. ‘But it still wasn’t right … You can’t just steal a child because your own baby died.’

  Anna caught her breath. She had to be careful. She mustn’t get emotional. She needed to be the parent here. She had to explain things in a measured way. She placed her hands on the table. ‘Sophie, I was devastated when Hope died, but that’s not why I took you. What I saw on the boat that day was neglect, pure and simple. I saw a baby being treated appallingly and I acted on instinct. I honestly never, ever, intended to take you. I did not get on that boat with the intention of taking someone else’s child. The thought never entered my mind. But when I saw Laura passed out on the bar counter, something in me clicked and I knew I had to protect you. It’s very hard to explain. Maybe it’s because when I taught in the school in Dublin I saw so many innocent little lives ruined by alcoholic parents. I honestly don’t know, but I can’t regret having been your mum. It’s the best thing I’ve ever done.’

  The waitress came over and handed Sophie her latte. Anna could see she was struggling not to cry. ‘But I wasn’t yours to take and Laura is a good mum. And Joan was helping her to bring me up.’

  Anna shook her head. ‘Laura was not a good mum then. She might be now, but back then she was a mess.’

  Sophie stirred her coffee. ‘Joan told me that Laura was a wreck. But she stopped drinking and she’s great now.’

  ‘Now,’ Anna emphasized. ‘Laura only stopped drinking because you were taken. Look, Sophie, I truly believe that if I hadn’t taken you with me, you would have drowned, or something else awful would have happened. A small child cannot look after itself on a ship full of strange people in the middle of the sea.’

  Sophie didn’t say anything. Anna was hoping maybe she had got through to her.

  Sophie rolled a sugar cube between her fingers. ‘I can see why you did it, but that doesn’t make it right. They suffered so much when I disappeared. While I was having a great life in London, they were all broken-hearted in Dublin. I just wish things had been different.’

  Anna leaned forward. ‘I know you do. But, Sophie, none of us can change the past. We can –’

  ‘We can only live today and look to the future.’ Sophie smiled. ‘I haven’t forgotten your favourite mantra.’

  Anna was thrilled to see her daughter’s smile, even if it was only a small one.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were married?’ Sophie asked.

  Anna sat back. She decided to be honest. No more lies. ‘Because I didn’t want to think about the past. Because I was living my own mantra – I wanted to focus on the present and the future with you. Also, because I thought it was better not to talk about my past in case I said something that would make you suspicious.’
r />   ‘What was his name?’

  ‘Barry Roberts.’

  ‘How long were you together?’

  ‘Ten years.’

  ‘Were you happy?’

  ‘Initially, yes. When we first got married things were wonderful. We were extremely happy. But then we started trying to have children and I kept having miscarriages. The longer it went on the more of a strain it put on our relationship. When I got pregnant with Hope we really thought this was it. We thought, finally, our time had come – we were going to be parents. Everything went really well … until … until she was born prematurely and only survived a few minutes.’ Anna coughed to clear the lump forming in her throat. ‘After that the marriage was over. We were so unhappy. I knew he’d be better off without me. Better off with a younger woman who could give him the children he deserved. So I told him I was leaving and I could see he was relieved. It was the right thing to do.’

  A tear ran down Sophie’s cheek. Anna had to look away or she knew she’d cry too. ‘I’m sorry, it must have been awful,’ Sophie murmured.

  ‘Yes, it was, but it all happened a long time ago and I’ve had so much joy in my life since then, with you, that I honestly haven’t looked back.’

  ‘Do you know what happened to Barry?’

  ‘No. Joe is the only person I kept in touch with. I left Dublin a broken woman. I had to leave because I was falling apart. And then you came along and, literally, saved my life.’

  ‘It’s so hard because I don’t know what to do and the one person I always go to when I need advice is you. But you’re the cause of all this so I can’t talk to you about what to do and where to go, who to be angry with and who to forgive and … uh … uh … oh, God, my head feels like it’s spinning off. Green, everything’s green.’

  Anna slowly got up and went to sit beside her. She took Sophie’s hand in hers. ‘I want you to listen to me. I’m always here for you and you can talk to me about anything. I know this is awful for you. I know you’re incredibly confused right now and angry and upset. And I know you’re furious with me, but life isn’t black and white, Sophie. It’s mostly grey. I did what I did, and I’m sorry I put Laura and Joan through so much pain. That was never my intention. I didn’t know Joan existed. But it happened, and I believe that we found each other for a reason. We saved each other. I can’t regret my decision. I can only try to make you understand that I did it out of love and I never meant to hurt anyone. I thought I was saving you from a life of hell. You were so small and vulnerable and upset. I couldn’t leave you there, I just couldn’t.’

  Sophie sobbed.

  ‘The last few weeks have been hell for me too. Watching you go and live with Laura has been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. But I understand that I need to step back and let you get to know your other family. Although I hate not seeing you, I think it’s important that you spend time with them, and I’m not going to stand in your way or make you feel guilty about it. All I want is for you to be happy.’

  Sophie wiped her eyes. ‘I know you took me because you thought it was the right thing to do. I just wish everything wasn’t such a mess. Whatever I do now, whatever decisions I make, I hurt either you or Laura.’

  Anna could see that Sophie really needed her to let go. Her daughter needed her to say she was OK with being left behind. But Anna also wanted to make sure that Sophie knew she’d be waiting for her whenever she decided to come back – whether it was in a day, a month or a year.

  Anna took a deep breath and gave up her most precious gift: ‘You have to follow your heart. Do what feels right. If you need to be with Laura and her family, then that’s where you should be. Stay for as long as you want. Get to know them, let them see how wonderful you are. I will always be here for you. No matter how long we’re apart, I will always be waiting for you with open arms. I love you and I want you to be happy.’

  Sophie fell into Anna’s arms. ‘Thank you … oh, thank you.’

  Although Anna’s heart ached, she knew she’d done the right thing. She prayed that by letting Sophie go she’d win her back.

  36.

  Laura

  Killduf, July 2011

  Although she missed Lexie terribly, Laura had to admit that her departure had been well timed. Sophie had moved into Lexie’s room and Mandy had her bedroom back, which made her less tetchy.

  Laura tried to take Lexie’s advice and forced herself not to crowd Sophie or follow her around or stare at her all the time. It was hard, really hard, and she hated Sophie being out of her sight for more than a minute, but she knew Lexie was right. She had to give Sophie breathing space and allow her to get to know her slowly.

  In an attempt to stop focusing on her so much, Laura began to paint again. Just an hour or two a day, but it was familiar, soothing, and she could switch her mind off, a relief after the roller-coaster of emotions she had been on lately.

  The tactic seemed to work, because one afternoon, for the first time, Sophie sought her out. She came into her studio and asked if she could borrow an easel and some paint.

  ‘Of course.’ Laura was thrilled. ‘I’d love to see you paint.’

  ‘Well, I’m nothing compared to you. I mean, your work is so incredible. It’s so … um … passionate and emotional, and when you look at the different pieces, it feels as if they’re speaking to you.’

  Laura beamed. ‘Thank you. That’s such a lovely compliment. I’m thrilled you like them. But I have to be honest: for every good canvas you see, there are hundreds of bad ones.’

  Sophie smiled. ‘You’re very modest.’ She set up her easel at the other side of the room. Then she asked shyly, ‘I was wondering, who do you admire? Who inspired you when you started painting?’

  Laura walked over to the shelf behind her. It was weighed down with books on every type of painting and painter, from ancient Malaysian cave paintings to Damien Hirst. She pulled a large book out and placed it on the table beside her easel. Sophie came over to look. ‘This is one of the people who most inspired me.’

  Sophie stared at her, mouth open. ‘I adore Georges Braque. Houses at L’Estaque is one of my favourite paintings.’

  Laura wanted to scream with joy, but composed herself. ‘Really? That’s incredible – me too.’

  They grinned at each other. ‘Who else do you like?’ Laura asked.

  Sophie listed all of her favourite artists and they scoured Laura’s books, finding pictures she particularly liked, discussing their merits and virtues. Then Laura showed her daughter some of the more obscure artists she had learned from and been inspired by.

  Sophie was blown away. ‘You know so much.’

  Laura smiled. ‘Yes, but I’m a lot older than you are. I’ve had more time to learn.’

  ‘You’re not that much older,’ Sophie said. ‘Honestly, none of the mums at school looked like you. You look so young and … well … amazing. Not like a mum at all, really, more like a sister.’

  Laura winked at her. ‘Thanks. I’ll take any compliment I can get.’

  They spent the afternoon painting side by side. It was utter bliss. For once there was no awkwardness. Laura wasn’t fussing over her and Sophie wasn’t trying to please. They were their true selves, united by a passion for art that transcended self-consciousness. They talked about art, colours, synaesthesia, the different surfaces to paint on, brushes, oils, solvents, varnishes, using gold and liquid leaf, technique, inspiration, motivation, style, ideas … It was a warm and relaxed atmosphere for both of them. Laura felt as though she’d died and gone to Heaven.

  After a long silence, when they’d concentrated on their work, Sophie took a deep breath. ‘Do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive Anna for what she did?’

  Laura forced herself to keep painting. ‘I don’t know, Sophie. If you want me to try I will, for your sake. But it’s a lot to ask. I feel robbed of so much.’

  ‘I understand completely. I just thought that maybe in time you might see that she didn’t set out to hurt anyone. I know
it was wrong, but she thought she was saving me.’

  Laura gripped her paintbrush. ‘Yes, but she wasn’t saving you, she was stealing you. Look, Sophie, more than anything I want you to be happy and I can see that Anna was good to you. But she wasn’t your mother, and it’s a long road back from seventeen years of grief. But for you I’ll try.’

  ‘Thanks, Laura. I really appreciate it. Can I see your painting?’

  She came over and marvelled at her mother’s work. Laura reciprocated when she saw Sophie’s. She was genuinely impressed. ‘You have real talent, Sophie, and a unique style. You’re going to be something special.’

  Sophie beamed. ‘You’re not just saying that, are you?’

  Laura looked into her daughter’s eyes, her own blue eyes. ‘No, I’m not. You really are special. And I want to help you in any way I can.’

  ‘Can I come and paint with you every day?’

  Laura forced the cry not to come out of her mouth. ‘I’d love that.’ When Sophie turned back to her easel, Laura punched the air.

  Early one morning, Laura was in her studio painting. Joan was coming to spend the day with them, so she wanted to get a few hours’ work done before her mother arrived. Laura knew Sophie found Joan hard going. Joan would sit Sophie down and tell her endless stories about when she was a baby, often crying as the memories became too much. Sophie was extremely patient, but Laura could tell she found Joan’s visits draining, so Laura liked to be around to help her out.

  Mandy and Sophie were still asleep when a delivery van pulled up. The man got out carrying a heavy box. Laura opened her studio door and beckoned him over. She signed for the delivery and went to find scissors to cut through all the tape with which the box was secured.

  She pulled back the flaps and saw a bunch of folders – there were five. They were bulging with documents. On top lay an envelope addressed to Laura Fletcher.