The Girl in the Mirror(73)
“Well, it’s your birthday tomorrow, and we haven’t told you everything about Iris’s memorial service. I had a surprise planned, but now I’m not sure if you’ll like it or if it will bring back bad memories. Or maybe you don’t want to do anything at all.”
“Just tell me.”
“Okay,” says Adam. “I guess I have to now. Part of the surprise was that Ben was coming for the service, but don’t get excited, because he isn’t anymore. He missed his flight and now something’s come up at uni and he can’t come. And the other part of the surprise is something I was meant to do while you thought I was at work, but now that’s difficult, since I need to be here to look after you.”
“Tell me,” I repeat. “I hate surprises.”
“And I hate keeping secrets,” says Adam. “I felt like you nearly guessed this morning. It’s the venue for the service.” He leans close and strokes my hair. “We almost got her here in time. She’s less than two hundred miles away in Cairns. I could have sailed her here in less than twenty-four hours. There’s a fresh nor’east breeze—”
Who is he talking about? Bathsheba?
I close my eyes and I’m back on the water. I feel the lilt of waves through my feet. I smell the ocean, the blueness, the salt spray.
“Wait! Did you bring her back for me already? For my birthday?” My voice is almost loud enough to rouse Esther. If she weren’t so fragile, so tangled in tubes, I would leap up and dance around the room with her.
“Yes.” Adam’s voice is warm. “A delivery crew sailed her most of the way, back to Thailand and down through Indonesia, but they’ve flown home already. I was going to sail the last leg myself. I had this brilliant plan. Ben was going to take you to Carmichael Bridge and then you were going to spot me sailing up the river! But now Ben’s not here and we can’t get Bathsheba here in time for your birthday, and it’s not a surprise anyway.”
“Do it,” I say. “Go now. Go tonight. They’re keeping me in the hospital overnight. This is your only chance! Once Esther and I are home I’m going to need you all the time. A newborn waking at night, Tarquin to look after, too. It might be months before we get around to it.”
Adam demurs. What if I need him, what if Esther needs him, how can he leave us alone? But I won’t be dissuaded. It’s not that I care about my birthday, although Adam’s plan is the kind of gesture from my husband that I always used to dream of.
It’s the thought that she is so near and yet so far, still a day’s sail away. I feel as though when I stepped off that boat, I left myself behind.
“Esther’s going to be okay,” I say. “They want me to lie here with her on my chest for hours every day. I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be, but what can you do, sit around all day and watch me?”
“They think that you’re really stressed,” he says. “You’re the mother of my children. I think I should stay.”
“I’ve had a tough time,” I say, “but I’m okay now. Esther’s going to be fine, and that’s all that matters. And it’s about time I had some good news. Go, Adam. I need her back. Go and bring me Bathsheba.”
He stands but doesn’t leave. “There’s one thing I never understood about Iris’s disappearance,” he says. “Why did you search so long? She couldn’t have lived for more than a few hours. Maybe there was a ghost of a chance on the second day, but a week? You must have known there was no hope.”
I remember the blood pouring from my hand. The sunburn. All I could think about was water.
“I loved her,” I say. “I didn’t realize how much until she died. I was so petty, so selfish, and then she was gone and it was too late. You ask me why I searched so long, but it’s the wrong question. The real question is, how did I ever bring myself to stop?”
I grab his arm. “Adam,” I say, “can you forgive me?”
“Nothing to forgive.” He grins.
“No, really,” I say. “I’ve made some bad mistakes, and I put our daughter at risk. I need to make sure everything’s right. I need to tell you everyth—”
“I forgive you,” he says. “You don’t need to ask. You don’t even need to tell me what you think you’ve done wrong. Let’s not spoil things by looking back.”
He kisses me goodbye. “Night sky,” he murmurs in my ear.
I dreaded the neonatal unit for months, but now that I’m here and nobody is questioning me, it feels as though I have nothing left to fear. Esther’s body rhythms seem to sync with mine as we lie snuggled together. We drift in and out of sleep.
In the early evening, the nurse returns Esther to her incubator and sends me back to the ward for the night. “Get some rest,” she says. “Don’t come back till morning. Baby needs you to be well.”
Back in my room, my dinner waits on the meal cart, gravy congealing around cold beef. The sheets on my bed haven’t been changed, and I’ve been wearing this hospital gown all day. My body feels grimy. I’ve been so focused on Esther, I haven’t thought about what I need. I have only the clothes I was wearing when I went into labor. I hadn’t packed a hospital bag, so I don’t have a toothbrush or a change of underwear.