Sacrifice (Absent Shadows Trilogy Book 2) (19 page)

‘Claire rang here, looking for you. She sounded very suspicious when I told her about this job of Sam’s.’

‘Did she? Oh, well, I should have called her. It slipped my mind, what with all the moving and everything.’

‘She sounded very unconvinced. Lili, is there something you’re not telling me?’

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t keep lying to my mother like this.

‘Not telling you? Like what, Mom?’

‘You tell me. After I spoke with Claire I thought long and hard about what you’d said. And it simply doesn’t stack up. You could have come for a few days even if Sam was starting a new job. Lili, why aren’t you here? I’m your mother—if you’re in some sort of trouble, tell me.’

‘Trouble? Oh, Mom … I’ve left Sam. That’s why we didn’t come over. Are you happy? Is that what you wanted to hear?’ It just slipped out. I’d no intention of telling her anything, but I couldn’t keep it up—not with her questioning me. I was afraid I would start crying, but I didn’t. Instead, I felt empty. Like a balloon with the air let out. I suppose I was relieved, not having to keep up the lie.

‘Oh, Lili, of course that’s not what I wanted to hear. I wanted you to tell me everything was fine, and that I was just being silly, worrying about my adult daughter, even if I hadn’t seen her for over six months. I’m so sorry. What happened?’

‘It’s a long story, Mom, and not one that I can easily tell over the phone.’

‘Right, well that settles it then. You’re coming home, now.’

‘I can’t, Mom.’

‘What do you mean, you can’t? Of course you can. If you’ve left Sam, you need to be here, with your family.’

‘Yeah, well, no, I mean, well, I can’t travel overseas. My passport is still at Sam’s house.’

‘And what, are you so afraid of him that you can’t go back to his house and get it? Oh, Lili, what sort of man have you married? My God, and Debs said she’d liked him so much.’

‘It’s … complicated. Sam isn’t the problem. I’m the problem.’

‘Now you’re not making any sense. Please, if Sam isn’t threatening to hurt you, just go get your passport, and get yourself back here. Now. That’s an order.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Why?’

‘I told you, it’s complicated.’

There was nothing but silence on the line. I thought for a moment that the connection had dropped out. When she spoke, I hardly recognised her voice. It was deep, and soft, and full of determination.

‘Fine. If you won’t come here, I guess I’ll have to go to you. Where, exactly, are you?’

~ Chapter Twenty-one ~

When Mom made up her mind to do something she usually did it fast, before she had time to change her mind or lose her nerve. This was no exception. So even though she’d never been on a plane before, and the thought of flying absolutely terrified her, the morning after our phone conversation she sent me an email with her flight details. She would fly into Brisbane airport the following week, and take a bus down to the Gold Coast.

That email had come one week ago. She was flying in today.

Funny enough, she was going to beat Claire. I’d expected to have Claire banging on my door by now, wanting answers to a multitude of questions. And believe it or not, I was ready to tell her everything. She, of all people, would be rapt. But as it turned out, she wasn’t able to get away as quickly as she’d hoped. So, Mom would be here first.

I’d been pacing the floor all week, back and forth, going over and over possible scenarios for the conversation we’d be having. ‘Mom, you’ve heard about vampires, right? Well, Sam’s one. But he’s a nice one.’ Or maybe more like, ‘Mom, you know how you always wanted me to meet someone special, someone with more, shall we say, verve, than David? Well, Sam’s pretty special. He’s a vampire, and a nice one. That would count as verve, don’t you think?’

Somehow, I hadn’t thought that either one of those explanations was going to cut it. But even after going over it and over it in my mind for a week, I couldn’t think of an easy way to tell her.

In the end, I decided that I didn’t actually have to tell her any of it—or at least, not yet. After all, it had been eight months since she’d seen me. She knew that I’d gone back to Australia because of Sam—maybe she’d just put it together herself. It was the end of October when I’d gone back to Melbourne and married Sam. I could easily have been pregnant at the end of August when I went home, then discovered it. She might just think that was the real reason why I’d gone back to Melbourne in October. Ceylona was born in May—that’s nine months. Maybe she’d already done those numbers. Maybe, when she sees Ceylona, it’ll just confirm what she already suspects?

As soon as my phone rang, I answered it with, ‘Hi Mom. Are you here?’

‘Yes, the plane landed and I’m about to go collect my luggage. I’m not sure how long all this takes, but I’ll phone again when I’m on the bus. Then I’ll be able to give you a better idea of when I’ll arrive.’

‘Okay. So, how was the flight? Nowhere near as scary as you’d thought I bet, eh?’

‘I’m here. I’m alive. That’s enough for now. I’ll phone you shortly.’ She sounded exhausted. Poor Mom; I’d be willing to bet she hadn’t slept a wink.

I got Ceylona up and bathed, and into a cute little pink and blue outfit that made her blue eyes look bigger and brighter than ever. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear she knew she’d be meeting her grandmother today. Her eyes were simply sparkling, and they reminded me so much of her father’s. I swallowed hard, and forbade myself to go there. I was going to be happy when Mom arrived, not sniffling and teary eyed. No, I would be strong for her, so that she wouldn’t have to worry about me when she left to go back home. I’d do my best not to cry even once while she was here.

I looked over at Ceylona as I thought this, and I’d swear she winked at me. Then a big smile followed. Gas; I’d read somewhere that it was just gas when little babies smiled.

~~***~~

With Ceylona safely snuggled into my chest, I stood at the corner of the Gold Coast Highway where the bus would drop Mom. It was just at the end of my street.

Ceylona chirped happily in her carrier with her little pink sun-hat rubbing just under my chin. She smelled beautiful; that freshly washed baby smell. It seemed to calm me, although my heart was still pounding crazily. I took a deep breath and tried to relax. I felt like I was ten years old again, and about to get in trouble. I wonder if people ever outgrow that terrible feeling when about to confront their mother after a lie? I bent my head down and kissed Ceylona’s cheek, hoping that she’d never be put into a position where she’d feel the need to lie to me.

It wasn’t long before I could see the bus coming. It would be over soon, this waiting, this knowing that I’d done wrong and was going to have to pay the price for it—one way or another.

When bus finally pulled up to the stop, a few girls that looked to be about fifteen were the first to get off. Behind them came Mom, looking a bit tired and crumpled, awkwardly dragging a large suitcase as she fumbled with her carryon bag.

She didn’t seem to recognise me at first. She stood there looking like she was trying to get her bearings. I realised that she mightn’t even take a second look at the woman with the sunglasses and cap, and hair pulled back tightly into a long braid. Then again, she most certainly wouldn’t be looking for a woman with a baby. I stepped forward and said, ‘Mom?’

When she heard my voice she turned, and looked straight at me. I swear I could have grown a third eye in the middle of my forehead and she wouldn’t have noticed. All she saw when she turned to me was Ceylona.

Her face changed in an instant. It went from looking exhausted to being exhilarated in a flash. Then her face contorted, and her mouth turned down, and her eyes welled with tears.

‘Oh … my …. God,’ she said, as her eyes opened wider than I’d ever seen them. Then she was all smiles, and no longer looked like she’d just flown half-way around the world.

‘Ceylona, meet your grandma. Mom, this is Ceylona.’

‘Oh, Lili; she’s so beautiful,’ she said, finally looking up and meeting my eyes.

‘I know. She’s my little angel,’ I said, pulling my sunglasses off, and leaning around Ceylona to give Mom a rather awkward hug. ‘Welcome to Australia, Mom.’

‘Well, any wonder you were so secretive on the phone. But, really, how could you have even thought to deny me the presence of my first grandchild? My beautiful, beautiful granddaughter?’ she said as she held out her arms, indicating that she wanted to hold Ceylona.

Her first grandchild—the words stung terribly. She didn’t know about Ben and Henry, and possibly never would. I swallowed hard, and replied softly, ‘It’s just, well; it all happened so fast, Mom.’

‘Yes, it has been quick, but no quicker than when I had you I suppose. To think, it’s only been just over a year since you left to come here for the summer; and here you are a wife, and now a mother too!’

As I lifted Ceylona from the baby carrier to hand her to Mom, I couldn’t help think about how relative time was. Here I was, talking about how fast things had happened, referring to the fact that up until just a few weeks ago I’d actually planned on leaving Ceylona with her two brothers, at Mladen’s. Now I was a full time mother. That was fast.

As I let go of Ceylona, my focus quickly changed back to my daughter. Ceylona hadn’t been held by many people so I wasn’t entirely sure how she’d react. But I needn’t have worried—she put on a big smile, and batted her beautiful long lashes as she looked up at Mom. It was as if she instantly knew her grandmother.

I quickly pulled the carrier off over my shoulders, and put it over Mom’s head and helped her get Ceylona tucked inside. She was still all smiles—not even a hint of a pout crossed her tiny little face.

I picked up the dropped carryon bag, and grabbed the handle of Mom’s suitcase, and then turned to see that she hadn’t moved an inch. She was still focused on the beautiful little girl who was snuggled into her chest. Mom was glowing—it was as if years had been wiped off her face. There was no hint of the sadness that had been so much a part of her since Dad died. Instead, her face showed peace and joy. Indeed, how could I have ever contemplated not sharing this gorgeous daughter of mine with her?

‘Let’s go, Mom. My place isn’t far.’

She looked up when I spoke, looking startled by my voice. ‘Oh, of course, yes, I’ll follow you.’

We walked back to my apartment building without speaking. Or at least I wasn’t speaking. Mom was jabbering away to Ceylona, little phrases and cooing sounds. And Ceylona appeared to be enjoying it as much as Mom was. She kept smiling and then tucking her head into Mom’s chest, then lifting her head and smiling again. It was wonderful to watch them bonding so quickly.

We were back at my apartment in no time. I set Mom’s things down and helped her get Ceylona out of the carrier and into her cot so that Mom could sit and have a coffee with me.

‘I’ll take a quick shower if you don’t mind, and change out of these clothes. It feels like I’ve had them on for days.’

She wasn’t gone long—just long enough for me to make coffee and heat up some cheese and ham scrolls that I’d picked up from the bakery. When she reappeared she looked fresh and revived; the glow I’d seen before even more prominent now.

Ceylona had dropped off to sleep while Mom had been in the shower, so I knew that meant we’d talk. Mom sat at the little kitchen table and sighed, smiling at me.

‘So; Ceylona—it’s not a name I’ve heard before. What made you pick that?’

‘It was her eyes. They instantly remind me of the colour of my wedding ring as soon as I saw them. My ring’s a Ceylon sapphire.’ I held my hand out to show Mom the ring, moving my hand to catch the light so the stones would sparkle.

‘Oh, yes, it is beautiful—and such a lovely colour. So, how are you spelling her name then? I was thinking it was S A Y L A N A, but perhaps not?’

‘No, C E Y L O N A, like Ceylon, only with an ‘a’ at the end.’

‘Oh, that is different. And beautiful, like her.’

We both sipped our coffees, and took a few bites of the scrolls. Then Mom looked at me and frowned slightly before speaking.

‘Lili, you mustn’t blame yourself, you know. You said on the phone that everything was your fault. Well, it’s not. This happens, all the time.’

I looked at her, not sure what she meant, except I did remember that I’d said it wasn’t Sam’s fault that I’d run away.

‘Men often don’t handle the responsibility of a family,’ she said, frowning. ‘Young couples often fight when a baby comes along. Sometimes it’s about money, but it can be simply because the wife’s attention is no longer entirely centred on the husband.’

I just looked at her. I knew where she was headed with this now, but I couldn’t decide whether to stop her, or let her think this was the problem.

‘Sometimes, talking to someone else can help. Maybe if we went back, together, I could talk to Sam, try to make him understand that his feelings are quite normal. Maybe you can work things out?’

Okay, well, I could see this wasn’t going to work after all. ‘Mom, it’s not that.’

‘Really? Well, you said he hasn’t threatened you or anything. And if you’re not fighting, then what is the problem? Why did you leave?’

I knew I’d have to come clean, to some extent. But just how much could I say? I sat for a moment, but I could see her becoming agitated. She was tired from the trip, and I daresay that wasn’t helping with her patience.

‘I didn’t feel it was a safe environment; for Ceylona.’ Maybe I’d get away with this, maybe not.

‘Not safe? What do you mean by that? Did Sam threaten Ceylona?’ I’d awoken the mother bear with that comment, obviously. Or perhaps I should say grandmother bear.

‘No, Mom. It isn’t Sam. He’s wonderful. It’s just …,’ I hesitated, not knowing what to say.

‘It’s just what, Lili?’ Her voice was beginning to take on the tone I remembered hearing when I was in big trouble.

‘It’s not Sam, Mom. It’s … the people he mixes with. The people that he comes into contact with I suppose is a better way to put it.’

‘The people? Is he involved with criminals? Is it drug related? Please, tell me he isn’t mixed up with drugs.’ She sounded a bit frightened now, and I had to reassure her.

‘No, it’s nothing like that. I promise. Sam isn’t doing anything illegal. He’s a wonderful man.’

‘Then what is it, Lili? What has you so frightened that you have left this so-called wonderful man?’ She was frowning, looking perplexed, but not angry.

‘It’s so complicated. I don’t know where to start,’ I said, sighing.

She just looked at me for a minute or so, perhaps expecting me to continue. When I didn’t she spoke in a voice that sounded resolved. ‘Well, perhaps we should start by getting you home then. If something has you so worried that you don’t want to be near your husband, who you say is a wonderful man, then I think you need to come home with me.’

‘I’d love nothing better than that right now. But like I said on the phone, my passport is at Sam’s. I can’t go back to the US without it. And besides, I don’t have any ID for Ceylona.’

‘Well, I can go get your passport for you then, if you’re afraid to get it yourself. I’m not afraid of him, or anyone else for that matter. And as for ID for Ceylona, I’ll help you get the paperwork in order. Surely it’s just a matter of applying for a passport for her.’

I sighed, and shook my head in the negative. ‘It’s not that easy, Mom. I don’t have a birth certificate for Ceylona.’

‘What do you mean you don’t have a birth certificate? Isn’t that just standard practice these days? Didn’t they give you one at the hospital?’

‘Ah, well … Ceylona wasn’t exactly born in a hospital.’

‘Alright, well there are a lot of babies born at home. Surely there was someone there to help you—a nurse perhaps? Speak to her; she’ll know how to get you the birth certificate.’

‘Yeah, well, she wasn’t born at home either. And there wasn’t a midwife or nurse.’

‘What are you saying? No hospital … no nurse. Where on earth did you have her then? Is Sam involved in some sort of religious cult? Did you have her at some commune or something?’ She sounded a bit angry now; I suppose the thought that I could be involved in some weird cult was too much.

‘No, Mom. No cult. No commune. It was a school. And there were people there to help, just not normal nurses or anything.’

‘Well, speak to them then—surely Ceylona wasn’t the first baby they’ve helped deliver. They should be able to get you the necessary papers so we can get a passport.’ This wasn’t a question. This was an order.

Maybe she was right. After all, Mladen’s teachers were coming and going to Europe all the time. Maybe he would help me get Ceylona a passport—unless he didn’t want me to take her out of the country.