‘I’m not here about an animal.’ She had a slight accent. He tried to place it. European perhaps?
‘Oka-a-y.’
‘I...ah...’ She looked down at the purse she clutched in her lap and fiddled with the clasp.
He waited. When she didn’t say anything, Mitchell felt annoyance rise. He didn’t want to be rude, but he had a busy afternoon of surgery planned. ‘Do you need something?’
‘Yes. No.’ Another pause.
She still couldn’t bring herself to look at him and he fought to keep his frustration under control.
‘Ms., Mrs., sorry...you didn’t give me your name...I’m happy to help, but you’ll have to tell me why you’re here.’ He kept his voice soft and hopefully reasonable, the way he would if he was trying to soothe a frightened animal.
‘It’s Ms.’ She swallowed before letting out an unsteady breath in a rush. ‘I lost my child a long time ago. It’s taken me a long time to find him.’ She unclasped her purse and pulled out an A4 sheet of paper. When she laid it on his desk, he saw it was a photo.
A photo he instantly recognized.
He shot out of his chair as if hit by a bolt of electricity. ‘Who the hell are you?’ he asked, glaring at her.
‘Your mother.’
Mitchell backed himself against the wall, putting as much distance between himself and this woman. There was no way she was his mother.
‘You need to leave,’ he snapped.
She stood. ‘Yes. Of course. I’m sorry. This must be quite the shock to you.’
As she slipped her purse over her shoulder, her eyes scanned his face as though she was trying to memorise his features in case this was the first and last chance, she’d ever have to see him.
When he said nothing, she bolted out the door of his office.
Mitchell heard her feet tap on the laminate floor, heard the front door open and slam shut.
He stood, heart pounding, his heavy breaths loud in the confines of the room. He didn’t need to look at the photo to know it was authentic. Before he was taken away, he’d snatched the only thing he could—a framed photo of himself on his mother’s lap. The one that was identical to the image that now rested on his desk. He had no idea how she’d found it—he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d seen the photo himself, but the fact she had a blown-up version of the only photo he had of them together was more than disconcerting. It was shocking in every sense of the word.
He sank into the chair. He didn’t know whether to hope this woman was his mother or hope she wasn’t. And while part of his mind was thinking about DNA tests, the other part was considering how familiar she looked. Maybe she really was his mother.
Snatching the picture from his desk he folded it in quarters, shoved it in the back pocket of his jeans, grabbed his phone, wallet and keys and slapped on his cap. Ian would have to postpone the afternoon surgeries.
Whistling for Indy, he strode past the front reception.
Stephanie and Ian shot to their feet, mouths and eyes wide. Without doubt, they’d overheard the entire conversation and were talking about him.
‘I need to get out for a bit,’ he said.
‘We’re fine,’ Ian said. ‘I can handle the surgeries this afternoon.’
‘Are you okay?’ Stephanie asked.
‘I will be.’
‘Take as long as you need, son,’ Ian said. ‘I’ve got everything covered.’
Ten minutes later he pulled into Bill and Beth’s driveway. The visit from his mother—if that’s who she really was—had stirred up a barrage of emotions, most of them echoing back to a time he’d thought he’d left behind him a lifetime ago.
He drove around to the back door and pulled up. He let Indy out and she ran straight to the house. The Simpson farm was her second home. He entered through the kitchen door without knocking.
Beth looked up from the table where she sat doing a crossword and frowned. ‘What’s wrong, darling?’
‘Does something have to be wrong for me to visit?’ he grumbled.
‘The answer is yes when it’s the middle of the day and yes when you speak to me like that.’ She stood and went to the kettle and flicked it on, reached up and pulled out two mugs. She’d make him a cup of tea whether he wanted it or not and she wouldn’t let him talk until they were both seated with hot cups in their hands. While she waited for the kettle to boil, she rummaged in the pantry and pulled out a container of biscuits and set four of them on a plate.
‘Come here.’ She held her arms open and he went to her like a child, stepping into her embrace and hugging her with the desperate hope she’d soothe away his pain the way she had when he was younger.
The kettle boiled, and she patted his back and eased away. ‘How about you sit down and tell me what’s going on.’ She poured boiling water over the teabags. ‘I presume this has something to do with Hope. Courtney told me she’s decided to stay in Melbourne.’
Mitchell waited until she took her seat before he spoke. ‘No, it has nothing to do with Hope.’ He jiggled his leg. ‘A woman claiming to be my mother came to see me at the clinic just now.’
Beth’s mouth opened and closed. She lowered her cup and it rattled as she set it back onto the saucer. ‘Your mother?’
He nodded.
‘You believe it’s her?’
He pulled the photo from his back pocket, unfolded it and smoothed the creases as he pushed it across the table towards Beth. ‘That’s me. That’s her.’
Beth frowned. ‘I’ve seen this photo somewhere.’
‘I know. It’s the only photo I have of her. I took it from the house before they took me away.’
‘Why does she have it?’
‘How should I know unless she really is my mother and she has a copy of it too?’ He scrubbed his hands through his hair. ‘I don’t know what to think.’
‘What did you say to her?’
‘Nothing. I didn’t handle it well. I told her to leave.’
‘Oh, sweetheart.’
‘What else was I supposed to do? If she is my mother, why is she here? What does she want? How did she find me?’
‘You wouldn’t be hard to find, Mitchell. Dad and I fostered you, we didn’t adopt you. A few phone calls to the right people and she would have easily been able to track you down.’
‘But why now after all these years?’
‘I don’t know. Perhaps you should have asked her.’
‘Bit late.’
‘Did she leave you her phone number?’
He shook his head.
‘Do you really think it’s her?’
He sighed. ‘I don’t know. I barely remember her but yeah, I reckon it was her. There was something about her voice. She had an accent. As soon as she spoke, I remembered my mother had an accent.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘I don’t know.’ His head was a tangled mess. All he wanted to do was call Hope and talk to her.
‘You have to find her and talk to her.’
Jerking to his feet, he paced the length of the kitchen. ‘Why? She abandoned me. She walked out and left me. You know the rest. My life was hell until I moved in with you and Ian.’ He rolled his shoulders back to ease the kinks from his neck. The familiar fury that was his constant childhood companion was back. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t a child anymore, the pain still lingered under the surface.
‘You need to forgive her for that. There may have been reasons why she left that you’ll never know unless you ask her.’
‘I don’t even know if I want to see her again. If she’s even my mother.’
‘I understand you’re angry but enough is enough, Mitchell.’
Beth’s tone pulled him up short. He’d never heard her speak like that.
Eyes sparkling with unshed tears, Beth stood. ‘How old were you when she left?’
‘Four. Nearly five.’
‘Thirty-five years ago. A long time. A lot of water under the bridge. I’m not suggesting you
need to have a relationship with her, but I think you owe it to her to let her know how good your life is. Show her the kind of man you’ve become. I’m sure she’ll be proud of you, just as I am.’
‘How am I supposed to find her?’
‘I’m sure you’ll figure that out.’ Beth closed the distance and wrapped her arms around his waist. ‘You and Jordan will always be part of our family and Dad and I will do anything for you. But right now, the best thing I can do is tell you to man up and kick you out the door.’
Despite the seriousness of the situation, he chuckled. ‘Man up? Where did you hear that?’
Beth pulled herself up tall. ‘All the young people are saying it. You know me, I have to keep up with these things.’
Leaning down, he kissed her on the cheek. ‘You know how much I care about you, don’t you?’
‘I know you love me. I also know you don’t know how to say it.’ She huffed a laugh. ‘Now get out of here and don’t come back until you’ve found her.’
If she’d had a tea towel in her hand, she would have flicked him across the backside with it.
Chapter 27
Hope glanced at the time on the computer in front of her and when she saw it was only three-fifteen, a wave of exhaustion washed over her. Four-and-a-bit hours to go. It felt good to be working again, but she’d forgotten how much she hated night duty. The only good thing about it was it kept her mind off everything else. She missed Macarthur Point. She missed Aunty Margot and Courtney and Lachlan and the triplets, but mostly she missed Mitch. Dreadfully.
And at least once every hour for the past four weeks she’d questioned whether she’d made the right decision to say goodbye to him. She missed him, needed him and wanted him with a yearning so powerful it made her shake whenever she thought about him. They’d rekindled their friendship and in next to no time grown closer than she had imagined, then she’d walked away. Dumb.
Every time she thought about what she’d done by pushing him away she felt sick. At the time it seemed like a mature, rational decision to make because of their respective careers, but from the second she’d told him her decision, doubt had set in.
She’d figured she’d move back to Melbourne, go back to her job and the life she had before Mitch and forget about him, but it hadn’t worked like that. She thought her life would be so full she wouldn’t notice the ragged, gaping hole where her heart used to be, but it wasn’t.
She hated to admit it, but she was lonely, and the sense of loss was nearly killing her.
Everything within her wanted to call Mitch now and tell him how much she loved him and that there was no one on earth she’d rather grow old with, but the words never made it past the lump which felt like it always sat in the back of her throat. As each day passed, the thought of calling him filled her with dread. What if he said she was too late and that he was happy to live without her? What if he ignored her and refused to take her call?
As much as she hated it, Mitch was a man of integrity and he’d done what she’d asked, breaking off all communication with her. She wanted to know if he was struggling as much as she was but didn’t have the courage to ask Courtney if she’d seen him in case Courtney said he didn’t want to have anything to do with her.
Mitchell Davis was the single best thing to happen in her life and she’d walked away from him. What an idiot. Sudden tears squeezed from her eyes then the flood began, and she broke down in sobs—great, ugly-cry, what-am-I-doing sobs. Sure, her job was great, but it didn’t fill her with the same joy it had in the past and at the end of each day, she found herself alone in a crappy apartment with a girl she barely knew, in her room with no one to talk to unless she wanted to “chat” to acquaintances on social media.
She felt as though she’d swallowed a bucket of nails. She clamped her eyes shut to stop the tears and clenched her hands into fists. Mitchell hadn’t let her down. She’d let him down.
He wanted to be the man she needed, and she’d pushed him away. Right then she vowed if he ever gave her another chance, she’d take it with both hands.
She looked around the familiar department and listened to the familiar blare and grind of city traffic and squealing trams which never ceased, even in the middle of the night. All she heard was the silence of her own loneliness.
‘This is insane,’ she muttered aloud. ‘I can’t keep living this way. Not here. Not without Mitch.’
She heard a voice calling out her name and remembered where she was.
‘I’m coming, Shani,’ she called out softly. ‘Give me a second.’ She hastily dried her tears, grateful none of her colleagues had witnessed her meltdown.
Shani was a six-year-old with leukemia. She’d been in hospital on and off for months and tonight was the first time her mum had taken the night off to stay home and care for Shani’s two older sisters.
‘What’s wrong, sweetie?’ Worried she’d spiked another fever, Hope perched on the edge of Shani’s bed and stroked her hair away from her eyes. Her forehead felt cool and Hope relaxed.
‘I miss Mummy,’ Shani said.
‘Oh, sweetheart, it’s okay. She’ll be here first thing in the morning, I promise. She’ll be back after she’s dropped your sisters to school.’
‘Do you live here at the hospital too, like me?’
Hope tousled Shani’s hair. ‘Of course not, silly.’
‘Where do you live?’
‘With my friend Felicity at her house.’
‘Do your mummy and daddy live there too?’
A twinge of sadness seized Hope. With everything that had happened recently, she’d found herself missing her parents and looking forward to seeing them again. ‘No, sweetie, they don’t.’
Shani scrunched up her face. ‘You must miss them.’
‘I talk to them on the phone when I can.’
Shani’s eyes grew wide. ‘I talk to Daddy on Facetime when he can’t come into the hospital to see me. Do you do that with your mummy?’
Hope shook her head. Even if her parents knew how to use Facetime, they were usually stuck somewhere with patchy Internet access. She was used to sometimes going months without contact.
She settled Shani back in bed and tucked the blankets around her, careful not to tangle the IV lines under the covers. ‘Go back to sleep now, sweetie, but if you need me, I’ll be here, okay?’
‘Always?’
She hesitated. ‘Always.’
But the moment the word left her lips it felt like a lie.
‘Until I die.’
‘You’re not going to die, sweetheart.’ Hope ran her hand over Shani’s hair again. Shani would be one of the success stories.
When she returned to the nurse’s station, Hope’s throat constricted when she remembered little Zoe. One of the not-so-fortunate ones.
Hope had bumped into Michelle and her husband in the hallway the day before, not long after Zoe’s body had lost its long, hard-fought battle with brain cancer. After hugging Michelle and crying with her, she’d walked away, agreeing that cancer sucked.
*
Back at Felicity’s flat later that morning after her night shift was over, Hope was perched on the edge of the bed and removing her prosthesis when her phone rang. She glanced at it and frowned. Jordan. It wasn’t like him to contact her, and certainly not at this hour. Her breathing accelerated. Had something happened to Ollie again or one of the girls?
She scooped up the phone and brought it to her ear. ‘Is Ollie okay?’ she asked breathlessly.
‘He’s fine. Everyone’s fine.’
Her heart returned to a normal rhythm.
‘Why are you calling?’
Jordan chuckled. ‘I have some news.’
She tucked the phone between her chin and her ear and relaxed further. He was probably going to tell her he’d proposed to Elizabeth. For his sake, she hoped Elizabeth had said yes. She rolled off the silicone liner and slipped her leg free, giving it a light massage.
‘It’s about Mitch.’
&nbs
p; She froze. ‘Is he okay?’
‘He will be.’
Worry scuttled inside her. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘His mother showed up.’
‘What? I didn’t know he’d stayed in touch with his mother.’
‘He hadn’t. She tracked him down.’
‘Why? After all these years?’
From the little she knew of his past, Mitchell’s mother had walked out on him when he was four and he’d had no contact with her since. The few times he’d spoken about her over the years, he’d been so obviously hurt by the way she’d deserted him that Hope had never pushed him for details. At least he’d had the Simpsons, because before them it sounded like he’d had a dreadful time being shafted around as a foster kid.
‘Where’s she been all this time?’ she asked.
‘Jail. Rehab. I don’t know.’
‘What? For thirty-five years?’
‘Mitch didn’t give me too many details. He’s in shock.’
Understandably. She’d have to call him. She couldn’t imagine what he must be going through.
‘Maybe now he’ll get over his abandonment issues,’ Jordan said.
She frowned. ‘Abandonment issues?’
‘Yeah. He’s so scared people are going to leave him like she did. That’s why he’ll never leave the Point. For the first time in his life he’s put down roots and the deeper they’ve gone the harder it will be for him to ever think about uprooting and replanting himself somewhere else.’
She’d been right. There was no way Mitchell would ever leave.
‘Mind you, I can’t see what would make him want to,’ Jordan continued. ‘He has his whole life here: family, friends, his clinic, his house, his animals.’
But he doesn’t have me.
‘The only thing missing is you,’ Jordan said.
Hope’s breath caught. For a second she wondered if she’d spoken aloud.
‘He’s like a dog pining for its owner. You need to come back, Hope. He needs you. All this stuff with his mother has really rocked him and he’s shutting us all out. I reckon he’ll talk to you.’
She answered without hesitation. ‘I’ll call him now.’
‘Thanks. You’re the best.’
Holding onto Hope Page 24
