way
she could even consider telling her about the surrogacy now.
Stephanie turned towards the
television, unable to meet her gaze. ‘I’m not sure,’ she said. ‘Oh, Alice,
isn’t this that programme you watch every week?’ She made an effort to stop her
voice breaking as she stood up and walked towards the door.
‘Yes, it is. Don’t you want
to watch it, Mum?’
She was already at the living
room door, her back towards Alice. ‘Er, no, dear. I’m going to bed. I feel a
bit sleepy; it must have been the dim lighting when we were watching the film.’
Stephanie had cried herself to sleep that night and made
the decision that she would wait until Alice was older, or if necessary she
would never tell her the truth.
Her thoughts returned to the present day as she wiped a
tear from her eye. Alice’s interest in her father was something she had
convinced herself she would never have to deal with, but here it was staring
her in the face, taunting her, stirring up feelings of guilt and regret. Her
selfishness may have denied Alice the right to know her real identity, and the
thought that she had made the wrong decision haunted her, giving her no peace.
She turned to look at her alarm
clock and saw that it was 12 p.m. She had been awake for most of the night and
felt tired still. Suddenly she panicked, remembering that she had promised to
meet Rita at the Tube station at 1.30 p.m. She forced herself out of bed and
hurriedly prepared for her meeting with her old friend.
***
Rita introduced Stephanie and Roger to Miranda Carey in
early 1975. Stephanie had been at her wits’ end at that time; she had spent
endless hours talking with Rita, her best friend, about her problem. She could
not have children, and it was something she was having a hard time facing up
to. She had suggested adoption to Roger, but had been met with a cold hard
stare. He’d crossed his arms in front of him: ‘Stephanie, do you realise how
desperate you sound?’
‘I am desperate!’ she’d
screamed, and then saw that look of disdain in his eyes that brought her down
to earth. Part of her could see what he was seeing; she hadn’t been able to
hold a rational conversation since being told she was infertile. She was
screaming inside, angry, and in denial; refusing to give up or to accept that
she would remain childless. Her mind was constantly whirring, trying to think
up the best way she and Roger could have a child. Fostering or adoption—they
seemed like good options—but Roger wasn’t convinced. ‘If we can’t have a child
of our own, I don’t think we should have a child at all,’ was the only thing he
would say when questioned. He was like a brick wall when it came to discussing
the matter.
Stephanie knew the reason Roger
was being so obstinate, but at the time she didn’t want to face up to it. Their
marriage was on rocky ground. They hardly spoke to each other and seemed to
have very little in common. At first, Stephanie had thought having a baby would
focus their attention and bring them closer; after all, they had been in love
once. But after trying for a baby unsuccessfully for months, her nerves were
frayed, and Roger was ever more distant. Looking in his eyes sometimes, she
thought she could see him consciously planning a way to get out of the
marriage. To stay sane, she ignored the signs.
In the midst of all this
turmoil, and as her mind was restlessly going over it all again for the
hundredth time, she overheard a conversation on the bus one day on her way to
work. She was seated behind two young women; one of them was blonde, with a
bob-cut hairstyle, and the other had permed light brown hair. Stephanie always
noticed hairstyles before anything else, being a hairdresser. She had been
trying to distract her thoughts by looking at the girls’ hairstyles when she
heard something that caught her attention.
‘Well, you know how much Josie has always wanted
children of her own,’ said the blonde
she could even consider telling her about the surrogacy now.
Stephanie turned towards the
television, unable to meet her gaze. ‘I’m not sure,’ she said. ‘Oh, Alice,
isn’t this that programme you watch every week?’ She made an effort to stop her
voice breaking as she stood up and walked towards the door.
‘Yes, it is. Don’t you want
to watch it, Mum?’
She was already at the living
room door, her back towards Alice. ‘Er, no, dear. I’m going to bed. I feel a
bit sleepy; it must have been the dim lighting when we were watching the film.’
Stephanie had cried herself to sleep that night and made
the decision that she would wait until Alice was older, or if necessary she
would never tell her the truth.
Her thoughts returned to the present day as she wiped a
tear from her eye. Alice’s interest in her father was something she had
convinced herself she would never have to deal with, but here it was staring
her in the face, taunting her, stirring up feelings of guilt and regret. Her
selfishness may have denied Alice the right to know her real identity, and the
thought that she had made the wrong decision haunted her, giving her no peace.
She turned to look at her alarm
clock and saw that it was 12 p.m. She had been awake for most of the night and
felt tired still. Suddenly she panicked, remembering that she had promised to
meet Rita at the Tube station at 1.30 p.m. She forced herself out of bed and
hurriedly prepared for her meeting with her old friend.
***
Rita introduced Stephanie and Roger to Miranda Carey in
early 1975. Stephanie had been at her wits’ end at that time; she had spent
endless hours talking with Rita, her best friend, about her problem. She could
not have children, and it was something she was having a hard time facing up
to. She had suggested adoption to Roger, but had been met with a cold hard
stare. He’d crossed his arms in front of him: ‘Stephanie, do you realise how
desperate you sound?’
‘I am desperate!’ she’d
screamed, and then saw that look of disdain in his eyes that brought her down
to earth. Part of her could see what he was seeing; she hadn’t been able to
hold a rational conversation since being told she was infertile. She was
screaming inside, angry, and in denial; refusing to give up or to accept that
she would remain childless. Her mind was constantly whirring, trying to think
up the best way she and Roger could have a child. Fostering or adoption—they
seemed like good options—but Roger wasn’t convinced. ‘If we can’t have a child
of our own, I don’t think we should have a child at all,’ was the only thing he
would say when questioned. He was like a brick wall when it came to discussing
the matter.
Stephanie knew the reason Roger
was being so obstinate, but at the time she didn’t want to face up to it. Their
marriage was on rocky ground. They hardly spoke to each other and seemed to
have very little in common. At first, Stephanie had thought having a baby would
focus their attention and bring them closer; after all, they had been in love
once. But after trying for a baby unsuccessfully for months, her nerves were
frayed, and Roger was ever more distant. Looking in his eyes sometimes, she
thought she could see him consciously planning a way to get out of the
marriage. To stay sane, she ignored the signs.
In the midst of all this
turmoil, and as her mind was restlessly going over it all again for the
hundredth time, she overheard a conversation on the bus one day on her way to
work. She was seated behind two young women; one of them was blonde, with a
bob-cut hairstyle, and the other had permed light brown hair. Stephanie always
noticed hairstyles before anything else, being a hairdresser. She had been
trying to distract her thoughts by looking at the girls’ hairstyles when she
heard something that caught her attention.
‘Well, you know how much Josie has always wanted
children of her own,’ said the blonde
Similar Books
