The Mother's Promise(87)

“No,” she repeated, slowly and clearly. “You’re not fit to look after a child. And I won’t allow it.”

A muscle flickered in his jaw. “You won’t allow it? Why would I need you to—”

“Because no one is going to give a child to an abuser.”

George became frighteningly still. Sonja waited for him to quip back, tell her she couldn’t do anything. But he didn’t say anything. She had his attention.

“I’ve documented everything you’ve done to me. The bruises, the bumps, the injuries. I’m keeping an official log of it all.” She was fudging a little, but what did it matter? “Call it what you want, but it’s abuse. And the courts won’t just have to take my word for it. From what you’ve told me, Alice will be pretty keen to tell the story of how Zoe was conceived.”

George still didn’t move. Sonja had never seen him so uncertain. She remembered the first time George had assaulted her, the way she’d justified her staying. If you are this weak-willed and skittish with George, what on earth will you be like without him?

Now, as she stood before him, she repeated the thought in her mind. And suddenly, she could picture exactly what she could be.

“You’re not getting Zoe,” she said evenly. “I’m going to make sure of it.”

This time Sonja didn’t deliberate. She simply turned and walked out the door.





73

“What is it?” Zoe hurriedly put on her seat belt. She’d arrived home to the sound of an ambulance siren and Kate standing in front of her building. “Another infection?”

“No,” Kate said. “Not an infection.”

“Then … what?”

Kate remained quiet as she pulled out onto the road. Too quiet. She was blinking a lot, and chewing on a thumbnail.

“Is it serious?” Zoe asked.

Kate’s gaze flickered to her for second before she answered. “Yes it is, Zoe.”

Usually Kate had an extraordinary way of—a gift for—reassuring her when it came to her mother. Not today.

“Is … is she going to die?” Zoe asked. “Today?”

Kate put her hand over Zoe’s and squeezed it. “Let’s just get you there, sweetheart.”





74

When Zoe walked into the hospital room, her mom was asleep. She had a tube in her nose and an intravenous line in her arm. Zoe went to the side without the tube, lowered the rail on her bed and lay down beside her.

“Mouse?”

Zoe lifted her head. “Mom!”

“Are you all right?” she mumbled. She was pretty out of it, on all sorts of painkillers. And still she was asking how Zoe was. Only a mother could do that.

“I’m good,” Zoe said.

Her mom said something else then, which didn’t make any sense. Then she winced as a flash of pain overtook her.

“I love you, too, Mom,” she said, taking a stab in the dark, and her mom drifted back to sleep. But Zoe stayed there for hours, holding her mom’s hand. Neither of them was ready to let go.





75

“What’s your pain between one and ten, Alice?” Dr. Brookes asked.

Alice knew it was Dr. Brookes without having to open her eyes. During the past days his voice had become as familiar as her own. So had the voices of other members of the hospital staff—the nurses, the orderlies. All of these people that surrounded her, caring for her. As sick as she had felt, there was something lovely about being so cared for.

“A four?”

“Good,” Dr. Brookes said. “Much better.”

“Can I go home now?” Alice asked.

A pause. “Not yet.”

Alice opened her eyes. Kate stood in the corner of the room. Her expression was somber. “What is it?” Alice asked.

“I’ve just had a look at your CT scan,” Dr. Brookes started.

“And?” Alice prompted.

“And it shows you have a number of secondary metastases in your peritoneal cavity.”

Alice was about to ask him to speak English when Kate came to her side and took her hand, obscuring him from her view. “The cancer has spread, Alice. Most worryingly, it’s in your bowel, and a tumor has partially blocked your small intestine. That is what has been causing you such pain. It’s not allowing you to digest food.”

“So how do we … fix it?”

“Well … we’ll continue to hydrate and rest the bowel until the return of bowel sounds, and you’re feeling more comfortable. But the likelihood is that when you start eating again the problem will return.”

There was a long pause.

“So,” Alice said. “What’s the plan? Surgery to remove the tumors?”

Kate glanced at Dr. Brookes, who had come to stand on the other side of Alice. “Unfortunately, due to the multiple sites of obstruction, it’s not a possibility.”

“So what is a possibility?” Alice asked, frustrated. “Will we just continue with the chemo when I’m feeling better?”

Another pause. Another exchange of glances.

“Alice, the cancer has spread too much. Your illness is now terminal and we are recommending a palliative approach … treating the symptoms. We wouldn’t recommend any more chemo.”