Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Nineteen Years Ago
The letter fell to the desk and Helen left it there, her gaze shifting from the words on the page to the photos that spilled out of the envelope behind it. The images depicted a young girl with blonde curls that clung down her back. She wore a swimsuit with a rash-shirt and squinted into the bright sun, a gap-toothed smile lighting up her tanned face.
Helen’s heart skipped a beat. It was Matilda, her daughter. The one she would never get a chance to raise. She looked happy. That was enough.
Her throat tightened and a sob worked its way out. She couldn’t look away. She traced the outline of the little girl’s face with a fingertip, wishing she could hold her, hug her, hear all about her day at the beach. There were other photos too. One of a birthday cake with six candles and Matilda blowing them out with a stern expression on her face when it seemed one candle refused to be extinguished. Another was a photograph of Matilda riding a pony, her helmet lop-sided on top of her head, legs almost horizontal on either side of the rotund little animal’s back.
Finally, she had her fill and looked away, searching for the words on the page that would tell her all about how Matilda was doing. They’d been doing this for four years now—exchanging letters. And the occasional phone call. Each updating the other about the children, their progress, what was new in their world. Helen sent letters and photographs to Matilda’s family, and they sent them back to her. It was how they managed to keep putting one foot in front of the other after they’d all discovered the horrible truth about what had happened at the IVF clinic. A place they’d trusted with their most precious possession, their child. A group of doctors to whom they’d each given every ounce of belief they could muster on the difficult journey towards parenthood.
John and Daphne Berry, Matilda’s parents, already had three other children. They were blessed beyond measure, in Helen’s mind. But they’d wanted a fourth and yet couldn’t get pregnant. They’d tried the clinics in Australia and then heard about one in Georgia with exceptional results. And that had been the fateful step that led them here. How the mishap had happened, no one could say.
The IVF clinic had closed ranks and muttered nonsensical things about contracts that were signed, culpability averted, and that there was no way of knowing what had happened. In other words, they didn’t intend to own up to what they’d done. And none of them would ever find out for certain, but they knew enough. They knew, without a doubt, that they belonged to each other’s biological families but had each been raised in happy homes on opposite sides of the world.
Just then, Julie trotted into the office, her long brown pigtails bouncing with each step. She stopped in front of the desk and held up her fingers. “You said four o’clock.”
Helen’s mind frantically searched for a promise she’d made. “Four o’clock to…”
“Go fishing at Auntie Rita’s lake house. You said we’d take brownies. Remember?”
“Oh yeah, brownies. That’s right. I baked them while you were at school. Get your swimsuit and we’ll head over there now. I just have to put this away.”
Julie loved fishing. But more than that, she loved Auntie Rita and the lake house. It was one of her happy places. Rita often babysat her, and the two of them had a very close relationship. It didn’t hurt that Tyler was a little older and behaved like the big brother Julie had never had but always wanted. He baited her line, helped her reel in a catfish when it was too heavy for her to do it alone, and she followed him around like a happy little puppy. Sophie was younger, but Julie couldn’t get enough of her. Sophie had short blonde hair and big soulful blue eyes. She thought the world of Julie, and when Tyler wasn’t interested in playing big brother, Julie would engage in make-believe with Sophie for hours on end.
Helen was so grateful for Julie’s cousins. She regretted that Julie didn’t have any siblings. It was a lonely life for the little girl, with Helen working at the hospital so often. In the end, Rita had offered to pick her up from school each afternoon so that Helen could stop sending her to daycare, and Julie spent hours each day at the lake house with her aunt and cousins, baking, playing, swimming, and fishing. It was her favourite haunt. And Helen tried very hard not to take it personally that she preferred going there to their own suburban and very quiet home.
The truth was, she loved being at the lake house herself. So, she could hardly fault her daughter for it. The only thing she wished was that she could tell Rita the truth about what she’d discovered—the truth about her daughter, Matilda, who lived in a small beachside town called Kingscliff, thousands of miles across the ocean.
But she couldn’t. It wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t help anyone. And it might impact the way Rita accepted and loved Julie. Helen doubted it would. She knew her sister was sincere in her love for Julie, and biology wouldn’t change that. But she couldn’t risk it. Rita meant so much to Julie. It wasn’t worth taking the chance that the truth could irreversibly alter their relationship. It was selfish of her to want to talk about the situation—it would help her feel better to share it with someone else. But it wouldn’t be what was best for Julie. They couldn’t fix what’d been done. All she could do now was pretend it hadn’t happened. And then watch from a distance as someone else raised her and Paul’s precious child.