Coincidences by Maria Savva
She made a decision to go to visit her parents today, aware that until she met them she would not be able to concentrate on anything else. Her alarm clock went off again at 7.45 a.m. She switched it off, forced herself to get out of bed, and made her way to the bathroom.
Looking at herself in the bathroom mirror, she saw that the last two weeks had certainly taken their toll. Her skin was pale and there were dark circles around her eyes. As she looked at her reflection in the mirror, she had a strange sense that she didn’t even know the person looking back at her. Her sense of identity was muddled and confused as if everything she had once believed had been tossed up into the air and had landed on the ground haphazardly, scattered here and there; her task now was to somehow put everything back into the right order. It seemed like an impossible mission.
She made her way to the kitchen, aware that she would have to eat something. As well as losing sleep, she had been forgetting to eat, and this had left her feeling unwell. But when she opened the fridge door, she just didn’t feel like eating anything. She made herself a cup of tea, and sat alone with her thoughts. Looking at the brightly coloured clock, that somehow seemed to be mocking her mood, she saw it was 8.30 a.m. She was supposed to go to work at the bookstore today; soon, Rob and Sophie Bairns would be wondering where she was.
At 8.45 a.m. she went into the living room and picked up the telephone. She spoke to Sophie, and explained that she was unwell and thought she had the flu. Sophie was very understanding, and said she would see her on Monday.
She put down the phone, and at that moment she decided to phone her dad. It wasn’t planned, but it felt like the right thing to do, rather than just turning up. At least she would be able to arrange a time to meet him, so that they could talk properly. She couldn’t bear to go to the house again and find that he wasn’t in.
She dialled the number from memory. Since Jenny had first given the number to her, she must have read it at least a hundred times, over and over; she was just so amazed that she actually had her father’s telephone number.
‘Hello?’ Her father answered the phone, sounding as though he had just woken up. Alice felt guilty for waking him.
‘Hello,’ she paused, not sure whether to call him “Dad” or “Mr. Forester” or “Ken”.
‘Who is this?’
‘It’s Alice.’
‘Alice?’ He sounded confused, not immediately remembering who she was. Then, he continued. ‘Oh, Alice,’ he sounded disappointed. ‘I thought I told you the last time we spoke, you shouldn’t call here. Try to forget about me. I’ve never been a father to you, and I can’t be one now.’
‘Why are you being like this?’
‘It’s for the best,’ he said, almost in a whisper as if to avoid anyone else hearing.
‘But, I have questions. I want to meet you.’
‘No, that won’t be possible. I’m sorry.’ His voice was cold; devoid of emotion.
She felt incredulous. ‘You can’t just ignore me! I’m your daughter whether you like it or not. I need to talk to you. I have to have some answers.’
‘Alice, sometimes things don’t work out the way we want them to. It’s as simple as that. People move on, people change.’
‘I have to see you in person. I need to know why you left. Why you never tried to contact me. Lots of things.’
‘Oh, this is stupid! You know very well that Stephanie and I divorced. We lost touch. These things happen. You’re not a child anymore.’
‘I don’t understand how you can be so cold. It’s like you’re a stranger.’ Alice could feel tears in the corners of her eyes.
‘But, don’t you see? We are strangers; that’s what I tried to tell you the last time you phoned. Nothing good can come of us meeting.’
‘Don’t you care about me at all?’ She held back the tears of frustration.
‘It’s too complicated to explain on the phone.’
‘Well, we’ll meet up. You can explain everything and then I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want.’
‘I can’t meet you, I’m sorry.’
‘If you’re worried that Jane will find out, you don’t have to. I met her when I went to your house yesterday. I went to see you, but you were out. I know everything,’ said Alice, wanting to hurt him as much as he had hurt her with his careless words. ‘I know about you and Miranda. I know she’s my real mother, and I know you’re living together.’
‘Jane hasn’t said anything.’ He sounded as if he was thinking aloud.
‘I told her not to tell you she’d seen me.’
‘We’ve never told Jane about any of this. What did you say to her?’ He sounded anxious.
‘I didn’t tell her much. She thinks we’re half-sisters. She doesn’t know the whole story. She thinks I’m your daughter from your first marriage. Aren’t you going to tell her the truth?’
‘Alice, listen, what we did—we never meant to hurt you. Stephanie was a good woman, you couldn’t have hoped for a better mother. She really wanted you. You haven’t missed out on anything really. I just think it’s better if things stay the way they are.’ He was almost pleading.
‘Didn’t you think that I would try to find you one day?’
‘I don’t know. We didn’t think about it. It seemed like the only thing to do for the best,’ said her father. ‘That way, everyone was happy. Don’t you see?’
‘No, not really,’ said Alice. ‘How could it have been the best for me? Growing up not knowing my real parents, my sister... Do you have any other children?’
‘No, just Jane. Listen, Alice, we never planned any of it... It just happened. Stephanie wanted a child so badly. She really did. I couldn’t take you away from her. I tried to make the marriage work, for you. I know we did wrong, your mother and I, but please try to understand. We wanted you to be happy. That’s all we wanted.’
‘Why won’t you agree to meet me? I just need to see you. To speak to you. I can’t talk about this on the phone. Please.’
‘If I agree to meet you, to explain everything, will you promise that you won’t tell Jane about any of this? I think it’s better if she doesn’t know. And, I think it’s probably better if things remain how they are.’
‘I don’t really agree that Jane should be kept in the dark. She’s an adult now. You should tell her.’
‘Well, exactly,’ said her father, clearing his throat. ‘That’s what I mean... I should be the one to tell her, when I feel the time is right. It should come from me, not you.’
‘Okay,’ said Alice. ‘Well, when can we meet? This afternoon?’
‘Hmm... Okay. About three o’clock. Jane will be out; she’s visiting a friend. Miranda will be here. We’ll explain everything.’ He sounded irritated.
‘Great,’ said Alice, ‘I’ll be there at three.’
***
Miranda Forester, wearing her peach-coloured towelling robe and fluffy, pink slippers, stood at the bedroom door, yawning. She watched her husband emerge from the spare room, with the telephone in his hands. He seemed stressed; his forehead creased into a frown.
‘Who was that, Ken?’ The telephone had awoken Miranda, and as she had tried to drift back to sleep, she had heard her husband's voice through the wall as he spoke on the phone. He had sounded agitated. She was sure he had shouted a couple of times. ‘Who’s phoning us at this time in the morning?’
‘It was Alice Turnbull,’ he said.
‘Who?’ Miranda yawned again. The name meant nothing to her.
‘Miranda, let’s go back into the bedroom to discuss this. Jane might hear us out here.’ He placed the telephone back on the table in the landing where it usually sat, and walked past Miranda into the bedroom.
Miranda followed, confused. ‘So, who’s Alice Turner?’
‘Turnbull,’ corrected Ken. He sat on the edge of the double bed. ‘Please, sit down.’
Miranda sat next to him. ‘Well?’ she asked, impatiently.
‘Alice is Jane’s sister.’
‘No, I haven’t met her, but she wants to meet today.’ He stood up and paced the bedroom.
‘Today? Oh my God. I can’t believe it. Our daughter.’
‘I was trying to get rid of her, but she’s insisting on meeting us,’ said Ken, sitting on the bed, leaning forward, and placing his hands over his face.
‘Trying to get rid of her? What do you mean? She’s our daughter, Ken. She probably looks like Jane.’ Miranda had a wistful look in her eyes. ‘I’ve dreamed of this day.’
‘Do you know what you’re saying?’ Ken’s eyes widened as he looked up at his wife.
‘What?’ Miranda stood up and folded her arms. ‘Don’t you want to meet her?’
Ken stared at his wife in disbelief. ‘I know this has come as a shock, Miranda, but think about what you are saying.’
Sitting down again, next to him on the bed, Miranda cast her eyes downwards.
‘We have to try to forget about Alice. We agreed that, years ago, didn’t we?’ he said, urgently.
Miranda nodded, her lips turned downwards at the edges. She looked at her hands.
‘I know it’s painful, but it’s for the best,’ he continued. Putting an arm around her, he sighed deeply.
‘I know you’re right, Ken; it’s just that it still hurts, whenever I remember back. It’s just brought it all back to me.’ She wiped her tears with the sleeve of her dressing gown. ‘I gave up our child, all those years ago. Jane’s sister. Now, well, hearing she’s alive and wants to see me. Sorry... I’m just being sentimental.’ She stood up and took a tissue from the box on the dressing table. As she blew her nose, she caught sight of her appearance in the mirror. She picked up her hairbrush and began to brush her hair.
‘She knows everything,’ said Ken.
Miranda turned around to face him, her mouth wide open. ‘How?’
‘I’m not sure, but she knows.’
Miranda, still holding the hairbrush, went over to sit next to her husband. ‘How can she?’ Her brow furrowed, she continued, ‘We are the only two people who know everything... Even Stephanie didn’t know... or... did she?’
Ken shrugged. ‘Alice came here yesterday, looking for me, and she spoke to Jane. Luckily, she hasn’t told Jane everything. Jane thinks Alice is my daughter from my first marriage. Can you imagine what would happen if Jane found out the whole truth?’ Ken was pacing the bedroom again.
Miranda stared into the distance, as if she were in a trance. ‘We should have told Jane before; years ago. We can’t tell her now. She won’t be able to forgive us. Oh, Ken, sit down, you’re making me nervous.’
Ken reluctantly sat back on the bed.
‘Jane never even knew you were married before, it must have come as a shock to her finding that out. We can’t let her find out about the surrogacy, about... We just can’t.’ Miranda’s eyes were wide.
‘It won’t come to that,’ said Ken, his mind ticking everything over. ‘I’ve arranged for Alice to come here today at three o’clock. Jane will be out.’
‘She’s coming here? Today?’
‘Yes. I had to do something. She was threatening to tell Jane everything. She wants to meet me. She said that if we explain everything—why we did it—then she will leave us alone. I think she just wants to know what happened.’
‘But, can we trust her not to tell Jane?’
‘I don’t think she’ll tell Jane. Why should she? I mean, if she wanted to, she could have told her yesterday when they met, couldn’t she? No, I don’t think she’ll tell her,’ said Ken, once more, as if trying to reassure himself. ‘Hopefully we’ll put an end to this today.’
‘I can’t believe it. Alice is coming here. Our child.’ Miranda smiled at Ken, but her smile faded, as soon as she saw the frown on his face.
‘Miranda, face reality. We can’t afford to let our emotions get involved here. We’ll have to treat her as a stranger, for Jane’s sake. We can’t get close to her. We’ll talk to her today, but then we’ll have nothing more to do with her. It’s the only way.’
Miranda was nodding, but her eyes were distant. ‘I know you’re right.’
Returning to her seat at the dressing table, she looked at her husband’s reflection in the mirror. ‘Oh, Ken, we did do the right thing all those years ago, didn’t we? I know we don’t talk about it now, but I still sometimes wonder what it would have been like if we had Jane and Alice. All through the years, when Jane was growing up, I often thought about Alice. On her birthday—’ Miranda stopped and turned towards him, open mouthed.
‘Miranda, what is it?’ He frowned. ‘What?’
‘Stephanie. I’ve just realised. If Alice knows, then she must know. Does she know about—’
‘I don’t know,’ interrupted Ken, ‘that’s the worst part. I hope not. I mean, I know it was a long time ago, but I’m sure it would still shock her. I’d hate her to turn up on our doorstep. Jane would definitely find out then. Stephanie had no idea about our relationship. Sometimes I think it would have been better if we’d just told her then, that we were in a relationship; we could have avoided all this—all the lies to cover everything up—don’t you think?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Miranda, shrugging her shoulders.
Ken appeared deep in thought. ‘All these years, I’ve put it to the back of my mind. Now and then, I wondered why we did it. Wouldn’t it have been easier if we’d explained everything to Stephanie? I just felt so guilty at the time for cheating on her, for the way it happened. She was the one who introduced the surrogacy idea, and introduced me to you. It was like, by leaving Alice with Stephanie, knowing she had wanted a child so badly, I was sort of making up for treating her so badly. Making up for all the deceit.’ He bowed his head. ‘I suppose it’s always easier to see what you should have done when you look back on things.’
‘I think if Stephanie doesn’t know already, it’s better if she doesn’t find out,’ said Miranda, reaching out to touch his hand.
‘How can we avoid her finding out, if Alice knows? She’s bound to tell her. I never wanted her to find out. It’s all falling apart, Miranda. We thought we were doing the best thing we could, trying not to hurt anyone, but it’s all backfired. The worst thing is that if Jane finds out, she’ll never forgive us.’
Miranda and Ken sat staring at the ground in the half-darkness of their bedroom.
***
Alice walked along Oakview Road. It was only when she arrived at the gate of number twenty-seven, that she realised she was going to meet her parents for the first time in her life. As the thought entered her mind she felt nauseated, and wanted to turn around and run as fast as she could away from the house. Panic began to stir inside her, and she doubted she could actually go through with meeting them. She stood, motionless, just a few feet away from the front door, staring at the house. They were inside now, expecting her. Were they as nervous as she was? She took deep breaths, trying to calm down and reminded herself that the two people she was about to meet were the same two people who had abandoned her, years ago, without a second thought. They should be nervous, not her. They were the ones who would have to explain why they had done what they had done. But, somehow, Alice could not shake the feeling of dread.
She heard a noise behind her, and as she turned around she saw the next-door neighbour, whom she had met yesterday.
‘Hello, Jane, dear,’ said the old woman.
‘Um... hello,’ said Alice, not correcting her. Then, she turned and walked towards the front door to avoid any conversation with the old woman. The woman opened her own door and disappeared inside.
As Alice stood outside her parents’ front door, she began questioning why she had come. She didn’t feel as though she belonged there, and she knew that she was not really welcome; but somehow she couldn’t leave without meeting them—they were the only
Alice smoothed her black, knee-length skirt with her now sweating palms. She had dressed smartly for the meeting, almost as if she were attending a job interview. A black skirt, white cotton blouse, and her long hair tied back. Making a good first impression was important to her; so that her parents would not have anything bad to say about her upbringing. But now she regretted dressing so smartly; it felt uncomfortable, as if she was trying too hard. Perhaps if she had worn something more casual she would have felt more relaxed. She sighed as that thought entered her mind; there was nothing she could do about it now.
Almost immediately after she knocked on the front door, it opened; as if her father had been standing on the other side of the door awaiting her. She recognised his face straight away; it was the same face that she had stared at in the old, faded photograph Stephanie had given her. There were more wrinkles around the eyes, and he was slightly fatter, but the face was the same. Ken Forester smiled and held out his hand to welcome her. She noticed that although he was smiling, his eyes were sad, not lively as they had been in the photograph.
‘Hello,’ he was the first to speak.
‘Hello,’ said Alice, her mouth felt dry. She shook his outstretched hand.
‘Please, come in.’ He led the way along the narrow dark passage to the living room. The house smelt of freshly cut flowers.
Nerves overwhelmed Alice again as she stood at the entrance to the living room.
Someone was seated on the sofa at the far end of the room. The sofa was positioned in front of the tall, bay window. As the sun was shining through the window, the person appeared almost in silhouette. As Alice entered the room, it became clear that the person seated on the sofa was a woman. Her attention fixed on her. That must be Miranda, she thought.
She looked old; her hair was grey, and shoulder length. She was smoking a cigarette. Her large round glasses appeared too big for her face, and made her eyes seem twice their actual size. As Alice approached her, the woman smiled, and extinguished her cigarette into an ashtray on the coffee table in front of her. Her hand was trembling as she did so. She did not get up to greet Alice.