The Good Sister(78)

‘. . . and you asked me on a date so you could become pregnant with a baby for your sister?’

‘Yes.’

Wally places both hands on his temples. ‘Wow.’

‘But by the time we had sex, I wasn’t even thinking about that anymore. I wasn’t thinking about–’

Wally walks to the corner of the room, shaking his head. ‘Wow,’ he says again. ‘It’s genius.’

‘What is?’

‘Rose,’ he says.

‘What do you mean?’

‘She must have known what you would do if you found out she couldn’t have a baby.’

I shake my head. ‘But she didn’t even tell me she wanted a baby, I found her prenatal vitamins.’

‘Which she just happened to leave lying around?’

I think about this. But I don’t believe it. ‘You think she did that on purpose? So I would realise she wanted a baby and try to have one for her?’

He shrugs. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised.’

‘Well,’ I say. ‘In any case. I’m sorry.’

Wally walks back to my bedside. He looks down at Willow. I’ll never get tired of the way he looks at her.

‘You know what’s funny,’ he says. ‘I’m not.’





When I’m released from hospital, we go back to Wally’s new flat, stopping by Rose’s en route to collect Alfie. Wally’s flat is in an older style building that reminds me a lot of my old place. He rented it a few months ago – things got so busy with FollowUp that he decided he needed a more permanent base. It still looks like he hasn’t properly moved in. He says it’s just a stopgap until we buy something bigger, but honestly, I quite like it. I loved my little flat.

Willow and I don’t leave Wally’s flat for the next forty-eight hours, and Wally only leaves to walk Alfie. Carmel is our only visitor, coming by to drop off a pile of books for me, a couple of takeaway hot chocolates and an adorable pink onesie for Willow. She said if I needed anything, she was just at the end of the ‘line’. I wasn’t sure what line she was referring to, but when I told her this, she just laughed and said she’d check in with me tomorrow.

Both Wally and I try to sleep when Willow sleeps, but we find, frustratingly, that we cannot tune our body clocks to the bizarre schedule of round-the-clock forty-five-minute naps, so we make do with merely resting while she sleeps. Sometimes we read or play a game of sudoku. They’re lovely, those little pockets of time we have together.

Two days after we get home from the hospital is a Thursday. My first Thursday, I realise, as a mother, and without a mother. The fact that I’m not visiting Mum is made both better and worse by Willow’s existence . . . though I can’t help but think what a magnificent Thursday it would have been if I could have taken my daughter to meet my mother.

Throughout the days, my thoughts drift indeterminately to and from Rose. Detective Brookes has kept me in the loop. After Rose’s arrest, she was remanded in custody and is now awaiting arraignment. She has been asking to see me, apparently. I tell Detective Brookes that I will see her, at some point. And I will. But for now, it’s a relief to keep my mind busy caring for Willow.

I’ve been at home for a week when Detective Brookes calls to tell me she’d like to see me at the police station. It’s not the usual first outing with a baby, which, according to my baby book, is generally to the doctor’s office or the maternal health clinic. Still, I feel okay about it, as I was given reasonable notice and was able to plan the best route to take and to ensure there will be ample parking for Wally’s van. As the baby book instructs, I allow extra time to account for baby-related mishaps, but even so, we pull up at the police station five minutes late.

Detective Brookes is waiting for us outside, as planned. She doesn’t appear to be upset about our tardiness. ‘Follow me. I’ve reserved a visitor’s parking spot for you so you don’t have to walk far. And I’ve found us a quiet room on the first floor.’

It was Wally who suggested I tell her about my sensory issues in advance. As it turns out, her son has similar issues and she is happy to make accommodations so I can be more comfortable. I’ve found that a lot of people have been happy to accommodate me, actually, once they realise my challenges. All this time, I’d thought that Rose was the only person who understood how to care for me. How wrong I was.

We park the van and follow Detective Brookes into a small interview room with three chairs, a table and a potted plant. Cream floor-to-ceiling horizontal blinds obscure the view of a fire extinguisher outside.

‘Take a seat,’ she says, and I do. Wally declines, instead standing in the corner. Willow is expertly strapped to his chest by a long piece of cloth and he is bouncing even though she is fast asleep. We have both bounced a lot this past week. Sometimes I find myself standing in the shower, bouncing, even though Willow is asleep in the next room.

‘The reason I asked you to come in today,’ Detective Brookes says, sitting down in the chair opposite me, ‘is that I wanted to show you something.’

She places a notebook in front of me. It’s pale pink, embossed with gold flowers and the words A penny for your thoughts in gold leaf.

‘Have you seen this before?’

I reach out and touch the hard cover. ‘No. I don’t think so.’