Coincidences by Maria Savva
She took the photograph out of the box along with the other two photographs of Roger. As she did so, she wondered how long it would be before the other secret she had kept hidden for years would have to be revealed.
Alice stood in the kitchen after her mother had walked out, wondering whether she should follow her to the bedroom. Her eyes had seemed sad, and Alice felt bad for upsetting her. Just then, she saw her returning along the hallway holding what looked like bits of paper in her hand.
Stephanie held out the photographs to Alice as she re-entered the kitchen and after handing them over, she sat at the kitchen table, her head in her hands.
Alice placed the photographs on the table and sat down next to her. ‘This is my dad?’
‘Yes.’
Alice stared at the black-and-white photographs that were quite faded now. She recognised herself as a baby as she had seen many photographs over the years that her mother had shown her. Her father was holding her in his arms in one of the photographs, smiling. His smile seemed so sincere. He was happy. She felt warmth and pride as she looked at the picture, and couldn’t help smiling back. Then she looked at each of the other photographs in turn, noticing how she had the same almond-shaped eyes and wavy fair hair as her father.
‘These are nice,’ she said, turning to smile at Stephanie. She noticed her eyes were red as if she were about to cry.
Stephanie avoided her eyes and looked at the kitchen table. ‘They were taken in happier times,’ was all she said.
‘What’s the story behind this picture,’ asked Alice, holding up the one where her father was holding her.
‘Oh, Alice, I would really rather forget,’ Stephanie said bluntly, and stood up. ‘You can keep them.’
‘Mum, I just want you to know that even though I’m looking for my dad, this won’t change anything between us. You brought me up, he was never around. None of that is going to suddenly change.’
‘But things will change.’ She sat opposite Alice and tears formed in her eyes. ‘There are things I haven’t told you.’
Alice leaned forward, interested. ‘Go on,’ she urged.
Stephanie sighed. She shook her head and stood up, feeling suddenly out of control; she had almost started to tell Alice everything. But how could she?
‘Mum, what haven’t you told me?’ She twisted around in her chair to see her mother wiping a tear from her eye, as she stood at the kitchen sink.
‘I don’t think this is the right time to talk about everything. Let’s just say I don’t want you to look for your father. Aren’t you happy the way we are, just me and you? We don’t need anyone else.’
‘Oh, Mum. We’ve been through this.’
‘He’s a stranger to you,’ continued Stephanie, looking out of the kitchen window, as if lost in thought.
‘I don’t want my own dad to be a stranger. And I might have brothers or sisters that I don’t know about.’ She reached into her bag, which was hanging from her chair, and pulled out the newspaper she had brought with her.
‘This is Wednesday’s newspaper. I brought it around to show you. Remember I told you about the photograph in the newspaper of the girl who was in the plane crash? She has the same surname as my dad. Look, this is the picture.’ She placed the newspaper close to her mother, so she could see the picture of Jane Forester.
‘What about it?’ asked her mother, but Alice could see she felt uncomfortable.
‘She looks like me. You have to admit.’
‘Well, yes, she does look a bit like you. A lot of people look like other people, it doesn’t mean they’re related. One of my clients told me I look like Angela Rippon, that doesn’t mean we’re related!’
‘Okay, listen to this.’ Alice felt she had to try to convince her mother to take her seriously. ‘This girl,’ she pointed to the picture of Jane Forester, ‘was in the plane crash last Sunday night. I woke up at exactly quarter past twelve on that night, and I thought I heard a loud bang. I’d had a bad dream. I felt really scared and couldn’t sleep for ages. The next night, I had a dream about a plane crashing and me drowning, then I saw the picture of Jane, and well... I became more convinced that maybe the dream and the plane crash were linked in some way. If we’re related, maybe I could sense something was wrong? Remember how you told me that your mum used to know when people in the family were going to die because she used to dream about them?’
‘You’re getting carried away.’
‘No. What if I’ve inherited something from Nan, and I can sense these things?’
‘Really, Alice, you’re making too much of this. If you woke up in the middle of the night and thought you heard a bang, of course you’d be scared, living alone. Maybe it’s about time you moved back here. I hate to think of you on your own and frightened.’
‘It was because of the dream that I was frightened, Mum. I like living alone.’
‘Living alone isn’t that great. It’s lonely sometimes. It would make more sense if you moved back home with me. You have too much time to think when you’re alone, and you’ve always had a vivid imagination; no wonder you’re creating all these fantasies in your head.’
‘Fantasies? You’re not listening to me!’ Alice stood up. ‘I don’t know why I even bother to tell you anything.’
Stephanie looked at her and she shook her head slowly; her eyes appeared sad. ‘This is all my fault, Alice. Please sit down.’
Alice felt concerned that her mother may now start to cry. She sat down and fiddled with the edge of the newspaper nervously.
‘You’re lonely. Of course you are. You’re an only child. I was lonely. Do you know, I used to tell people I had a sister. I always told myself that I would have more than one child, or none at all. I thought my parents were cruel not to have given me a sister or a brother.’ She reached out and took Alice’s hand. ‘You have to understand, darling, it’s just the way things turned out. I would have loved to have had a lot of children. But I couldn’t.’ She took a deep breath, feeling that now may be the time to reveal all. ‘I couldn’t have children, Alice... I...’ She pulled her hand away, tears of frustration filling her eyes. She felt unable to go through with telling Alice. It seemed like an impossible task.
Alice stood up and walked over to her, putting a hand on her back to comfort her. ‘Mum, don’t cry. This isn’t about me being lonely, or wanting a brother or sister. It’s not your fault.’
‘But I’ve failed you,’ said Stephanie, holding on to Alice’s arm as she looked up at her. Mascara had run down Stephanie’s face, making two, uneven black lines on each of her cheeks. Alice sighed and handed her a tissue.
Stephanie blew her nose and wiped her face. ‘Not only are you an only child, but you’ve only got one parent. I never meant for that to happen.’
‘None of that matters,’ said Alice, playing with the sleeve of Stephanie’s blouse as she spoke. ‘I’m not looking for a new life. I just want to know more about my background.’
‘But... But, this is a dream. The plane crash; the girl in the paper... it’s all a fantasy.’ Stephanie had put on her gloves again and now began mopping the floor as she continued to speak: ‘I’ve heard about this. Children, like you—’
‘I’m not a child,’ interjected Alice.
‘Well, okay young people like you, who don’t know one or other of their parents; they often fantasise about who their parent might be. It was on one of those shows—Oprah or Ricki Lake. It’s quite common for someone like you to create weird and wonderful connections between themselves and their absent parent. I mean, some believe that their parent must be rich or famous, or something like that.’
‘What has that got to do with me? I haven’t fantasised about anything.’
‘The girl in the paper,’ said Stephanie as she kept her eyes down whilst mopping the floor, hoping this conversation would soon be over. ‘The vivid dream,’ she went on. ‘This is some sort of fantasy you’ve created. You saw the picture of the girl in the paper and you’ve somehow made the co
‘I did dream about the plane crash. That’s what’s so weird about all of this. That’s why I’m trying to make sense of it. I haven’t imagined anything,’ said Alice, sitting down, arms folded in front of her, feeling furious with her mother.
‘Oh, Alice... you’ve tried to make it all fit together so that your imaginary half-sister is this person you’ve seen in the newspaper. Anyway, there’s no point going over and over it. You have to try to find something else to occupy your mind. I blame these universities with their long summer breaks. Your mind has been working so hard all year and then suddenly you have nothing to occupy it. You’ve always had a wild imagination. Something like this was bound to happen eventually.’
‘You can be so condescending at times!’ said Alice, pouting. ‘I’ve decided to look for my dad. That will clear this up. Then we’ll see whether this is fantasy or not.’ She stood up and picked up her bag from the kitchen table. As she placed the newspaper back in the bag, she shook her head.
Stephanie stopped mopping and stood staring at her. ‘Darling, please forget about this. You need to concentrate on your studies. You’ll be going back to university in a few weeks; you don’t have time for anything else. Please be sensible.’
Alice looked again at the photographs of her father. ‘Can I have this photo?’ she asked, picking up the one in which her father was holding her.
Stephanie looked at the floor, her face reddened. ‘Yes, of course.’ Then, looking up at Alice, tears in the corners of her eyes, she continued: ‘Now, promise me you’ll forget about looking for your father. You can’t rush in and do something like that just because you’ve had a silly dream. It was just a coincidence, darling, nothing more than that. Plane crashes happen all the time; it just happened that you dreamt of one on the same night. I mean, think about it: you’ve had dreams of plane crashes at other times—’
‘No, I haven’t as far as I can remember. And, I don’t believe in coincidences. Things happen for a reason.’
‘This girl,’ continued Stephanie, as if she hadn’t heard her, ‘she doesn’t even look that much... Well, just forget about her.’
‘I’ve got to go now,’ said Alice walking out of the kitchen door. As she stormed through the hallway, she spotted the pile of telephone directories under the telephone stand. Bending down, she picked up the one that had “A-N” on the spine and took it with her.
***
Stephanie was trembling as she heard the door slam shut. She’s going to look for Roger. The thought stunned her. It had been years since she’d had any contact with him; and now, suddenly, he was going to be back in her life.
The idea of seeing Roger again almost frightened her; and the fact that Alice might see him before she did was even more of a concern. What will he say to her? She feared he could lie and turn Alice against her. And he might think she already knew about the surrogacy agreement. Stephanie felt her throat tighten. She gulped for air. What can I do? She paced the kitchen, then saw the telephone from the corner of her eye. Maybe Rita will know what to do?
She dialled her friend’s number with shaky fingers, hardly able to keep control over them. The numbers on the telephone appeared blurry through her tears.
‘Hello,’ said Rita, sounding in high spirits.
‘Oh... hello, Rita... it’s me, er... Stephanie...’ she said between sniffles.
‘Steph, you sound upset. Are you all right?’
‘I’m in such a panic. I don’t know what to do. I’ve... I've just seen Alice... She wants to find Roger.’ She spoke quickly, almost stumbling over her own tongue trying to get the words out.
‘Calm down, Steph. Do you want me to come over?’
‘No. Yes... Oh, I don’t know.’
‘Listen, I’ll come over to your place. I’ll be there in about an hour. In the meantime, please try to relax... Everything will be okay.’
Everything will be okay. The words resounded in Stephanie’s head when she put down the phone. She turned around and the first thing she saw were the photographs lying on the kitchen table. She ran over and grabbed them, not looking at them, not wanting to see them again; then she rushed over to her bedroom and opened the wardrobe taking out the old shoe-box. She stuffed the photographs back in there and began to cry again.
Sitting on her knees next to the old box that contained the remains of her life with Roger, she began to ponder how she could stop Alice. I need to get to him first, she thought. She rooted through the box and found some of the correspondence she had kept from the divorce. Roger’s address was on one of the documents. She held it up and took a closer look to make sure she’d remembered it correctly. She felt sick to the stomach thinking that she would have to speak to him; but something told her that was the only option she had left if she didn’t want to lose Alice’s trust for good.
***
When Rita arrived at Stephanie’s flat at 2 p.m., she could see the remains of her tears strewn across her face; like blemishes scarring her make-up.
‘Steph, I came as soon as I could. Are you okay? Listen, let me make you a cup of tea and we will talk about everything.’
Stephanie’s eyes seemed distant, and she stood unmoving, almost as if she were in a catatonic stupor.
Rita took her arm and led her through the hallway into the kitchen.
‘I don’t want any tea,’ said Stephanie, pulling away from her grip and making her way into the living room. She slumped down onto the sofa. ‘I think I’m going to have to contact Roger. It’s the last thing I want to do, but if Alice finds out I’ve been lying to her all these years—’ She looked up at Rita, who was standing at the entrance to the living room. ‘That’s what I’ve been doing, isn’t it? Lying to her. I’m not her mother. She still thinks I’m her mother. Oh, what have I done?’ She began to cry again.
Rita took off her jacket and threw it over the armchair nearest the door. ‘Oh, Steph... don’t be so hard on yourself.’ She sat next to her friend on the sofa and hugged her. ‘You’re the only mother Alice has ever known. Even if she found out the truth, she would still see you as her mother. You were only doing what you thought best.’
‘But I lied. I was too much of a coward to tell the truth,’ said Stephanie, reaching for a tissue to wipe her nose.
‘Perhaps you should explain everything to Alice before she meets Roger. That way, you won’t have to worry about contacting him yourself.’
‘But... If there’s a way... If I can... I want to keep this from her. I wanted to tell Roger that she doesn’t know about the surrogacy.’ She looked into Rita’s eyes to try to find some indication that she agreed with her. ‘That would be the right thing to do, in the circumstances... wouldn’t it?’ She nodded, hoping that Rita would do the same.
Rita sighed and turned away. When she looked back at Stephanie, her forehead was creased into a frown. She reached over to the box of tissues on the coffee table and handed another tissue to Stephanie. ‘Of course it’s up to you,’ she began, ‘but in my opinion, this is your opportunity to tell Alice the truth. It must have been hard keeping it secret from her all these years. She should be told.’
‘But she’ll hate me for not telling her before, won’t she?’ Stephanie blew her nose and wiped her eyes.
‘It might come as a shock to her, but she won’t hate you. I mean, at the end of the day, her real mother never wanted her, did she? Why would Alice want to know her?’
‘But I’ve been keeping the truth from her...’
‘She’ll understand.’
‘I only did it for her... I thought it was in her best interests. I...’
‘I’m sure you’ve been a wonderful mother, Steph. Alice seems like such a lovely girl; she goes to university. You must be so proud of her.’
Stephanie nodded. ‘I am proud... but even though I brought her up, I’m not he
‘This is definitely a situation where you couldn’t really have planned anything. You should just explain to Alice that you never saw a reason to tell her, because her real mother didn’t want her.’
‘But that sounds so cruel.’ Stephanie stood up. ‘My poor little Alice. She’s always been my princess. I... I wanted to be her real mother. It wasn’t my fault I couldn’t have children. She’s more than a daughter to me. I couldn’t have loved her more if she was my own. I don’t want to lose her.’
‘You won’t lose her—’
‘But how can you be so sure?’ She looked down at Rita on the sofa.
Rita couldn’t meet her eyes.
‘I just can’t imagine telling her. I can’t imagine it.’ Stephanie’s eyes had become distant again. She sighed deeply.
‘It would be better coming from you than from Roger,’ said Rita. She stood up and approached Stephanie. ‘Listen, why don’t you invite her for a meal and tell her you have something important to tell her.’
Stephanie looked at her with wide eyes. ‘Are you sure I should do this? I’m still not sure—’
‘Only you can make that decision, Steph, but in my honest opinion, I think you should have told her years ago... Sorry, I know that’s not what you want to hear. I was surprised when you first told me that Alice didn’t know the truth. It’s no good to have secrets.’
Stephanie sat on the sofa and sighed. ‘I’ve been alone, and I’ve had to make all the decisions about Alice on my own. No one ever helped me. I only did what I thought was best.’ She looked up at Rita, who smiled sympathetically.