‘You’re still going on about that nonsense of keeping the child?’ the sister muttered when she returned, exchanging glances with the midwife. ‘Girls who end up here don’t get a choice in such matters, I’ve already told you that. You’d be ruining your baby’s life when there are good families out there waiting for a child, so stop being so selfish and get on with your labouring.’
‘My uncle,’ Hope panted, grunting through a fresh burst of pain again, ‘is going to take care of us. I have a letter from him.’
The midwife gave her another kind smile, but she could see the tension around her eyes this time, could tell that something was wrong.
‘What’s wrong?’ Hope asked, pushing her damp hair from her face and forgetting all about the sister who’d been talking to her.
‘The baby isn’t in the ideal position, that’s all. But I have plenty of experience, so there’s nothing for you to worry about,’ she said. ‘All I need is for you to stay calm and trust me. It won’t do the baby any good for you to panic.’
Hope felt very far from calm. She wanted Gus holding her hand; she wanted someone who loved her in the room, someone who would fight for her and her baby. She wanted not to be alone and afraid.
‘All right, it’s time to be brave, Hope,’ the midwife said. ‘I wish I could make this easier on you, but I can’t. It’s almost time for you to push, and I’m going to help turn the baby as you do.’
Hope didn’t know how many hours had passed. All she knew was that daylight was no longer streaming in through the windows, and it felt as if there was no air left in the room. There was also the metallic scent of blood, and she cried as she lifted her body up so the sister could take the sullied sheets and towels from beneath her. Her hair clung to her face and neck, her lips were parched and every single part of her hurt so badly, it was as if she’d been broken into pieces and nobody had bothered to stitch her back together. Even breathing seemed to send shards of pain across her skin.
But the only thing that Hope cared about was that her baby wasn’t with her. She could endure any pain, would suffer any hardship, as long as she could feel the weight of her baby in her arms.
‘Where is she?’ she croaked, her voice hoarse. She longed for water, but she longed for her child more. ‘I want to see my baby.’
The sister stood beside her. ‘I’m sorry, but the infant didn’t make it.’
Confusion swept through Hope as she tried to make sense of what she was being told, as memories of the midwife announcing that it was a baby girl circled her still-cloudy mind. ‘But I heard her cry. I saw her!’
‘You’re mistaken. Your baby is no longer with us.’
‘You’re lying to me,’ Hope cried. ‘You’re lying to me! I want to see my baby!’
Tears rolled down Hope’s cheeks as she tried to push herself up on her elbows, but everything hurt and there was nothing to be seen in the room other than bloodied towels. Her head was pounding and her vision swam, but she refused to let the sister push her back down, even as her hands wrapped like iron vices around her wrists to stop her from getting up.
‘Where is she!’ Hope yelled, fighting against her. ‘I want my daughter! Bring me my baby!’
‘I need something to calm her,’ the sister yelled out. ‘Hurry!’
‘Where’s the midwife? I told her, she knew that no one was to take her,’ Hope cried out as she continued to struggle. ‘Please, you can’t do this to me, I want my baby. Please, give me my baby! She wasn’t yours to give away!’ She was sobbing now, and she hurt everywhere; her breasts were aching, and all she wanted was to hold her child in her arms. ‘Where is my daughter?’ she whispered. ‘Please, just bring me my daughter.’
A daughter. I have a daughter. I heard them say it was a baby girl. She said that, I heard her.
‘Your daughter has gone, Hope, and the sooner you accept that, the better,’ the sister said. ‘Now stop making such a fuss.’
Another sister arrived then and held Hope down as she valiantly tried to resist, as medicine was put on a spoon and forced inside her mouth as if she were a misbehaving child rather than a woman who’d just given birth, and they only let her go once they were certain she’d swallowed it. She fought, as much as she could, trying to spit it out as her chin was held between pinched fingers, but she was exhausted and was no match for the much stronger women holding her, and eventually some of the sickly sweet liquid slid down her throat.
‘She’ll be asleep in no time,’ one of them muttered.
‘I want my baby,’ Hope whispered, tears still falling as she battled with the sleep that was ready to claim her. ‘Please, just let me see my baby.’
But as the door shut with a loud bang, she realised that she’d been left alone. There was no baby to hold in her arms or snuggle to her breast, and she was too delirious to do anything more than lay there.
Hope closed her eyes.
She was alone, and no one was coming to save her.
And as she succumbed to sleep, all she could hear was silence, when all she wanted to hear was the cry of her child.
34
FOUR MONTHS LATER
Hope sat in the chair, staring out at the leafy green garden. She was numb. It was as if she couldn’t feel anything. Not the dampness of her tears, not the sound of the birdlife that had once given her so much joy, and not even the pain that was sending tendrils across every inch of her body.
