One month later, the contract of sale was finalised. George Kenny gave up ownership of forty acres of land, and the young woman from Melbourne, Andrea Steedman, became the owner of the western paddock. Andrea's life had in more overt ways, returned to normal when she returned to Melbourne six years earlier. Her mother Elsie, a calm loving woman with a strong set of ethics was delighted to have her daughter back, not for one moment suspecting the trauma that had taken place. While the eldest sibling, the intellectually disabled Richard had grown up at Elm Tree Cottages, her next elder brother Warwick, tall and good looking, but with a superficial charm, was a man on the move, upwardly mobile, forging a business empire in public relations. Her older sister Margaret, plump and pretty by contrast, was indifferent, ambivalent and self-centred, much preferring things to be done for her than to be pro-active like her brother Warwick. And then there was Robert, the baby of the family, shy, overshadowed and bullied by Warwick, he harboured hidden resentments.
Warwick stood in sharp contrast to his sister Margaret's insecurity, and his younger brother Robert who lacked both business prowess and ambition. The sudden demise of their father when the children were young left a huge gap in the family. Warwick suddenly finding himself the eldest male in the household, matured ahead of his years. Robert was left somewhat isolated as he grew up. The lack of a father figure left him floundering. Andrea dealt with her insecurities by attaching herself to Elsie and looking up to Warwick as the man of the house.
While each of her children searched out their dreams, Elsie was a regular visitor to Elm Tree Cottages spending time with her son Richard. While her other children avoided Richard, she did not. How could she? Richard was now thirty four, and had for some time been placed under the care of Maria Stewart, supervisor of Unit 49. Most of his days were spent at adult education centres, where devoted, committed staff cared for him and helped him engage in productive activities. But Elm Tree Cottages was his home, and Maria Stewart his carer. Over time, Elsie and Maria Stewart became friends. Beyond her loving care for Richard, there was something about Maria that teased Elsie. It took a while but she suddenly realized one day that not only did Maria bear a sharp resemblance to her daughter Andrea, but her mannerisms were also similar. It was the way she tilted her head when speaking to Richard, her smile, her laugh. She said nothing but decided one day to bring Andrea to Elm Tree Cottages to see Richard, and have the two women meet. While Elsie kept her suspicions to herself, she was more convinced than ever that Andrea and Maria were related.
Andrea had shown no interest in her origins. It was Warwick's drive, his determination to succeed that inspired her to greater heights and broader expectations. She and Maria did not connect in the beginning. Andrea had returned to her job at Flyworld, but it was short-lived. Her friend and boss, Terri Carney was a constant reminder of that trauma, and on other occasions when she needed to discuss work matters on the phone with Louise Whiltshire in Brisbane, the memories of the events of 1974, and Mary Therese, loomed large. It was all too much. She had to leave. She took up a junior position within a large real estate firm, studied, obtained some business qualifications, and immersed herself in work. Warwick became her business counsellor, her mentor. He gave generously of his time and encouraged her to open her eyes to life's opportunities; he suggested she write herself a business plan, to set herself goals. She took his advice, followed his lead.
The western paddock was not her first venture. This was to be a long-term investment strategy, something to set aside for the future. So, at the age of twenty-eight, Andrea had begun to invest in the property market. Taking advantage of the sale of a deceased person's estate, she had purchased her first flat, and promptly set about restoring, redecorating, and renovating. She discovered a new independence living on her own and proud of the innovative way she had achieved a substantial increase in the value of her property. An offer from an interstate buyer was too good to refuse, and she accepted. It then occurred to her to find another bargain property, and do it all again.
There were huge opportunities. She had read in a magazine somewhere that ninety-five per cent of the world's millionaires had made their fortune in the property market. She had studied how, and set about following in their footsteps. Her immediate interests were in buying run-down flats, moving in, renovating and letting after a year or so. The mortgage was then paid with the rental returns from the tenant, as she would complete one project and go on to another. There was no shortage of run-down properties, no shortage of tradesmen ready to compete for the work, and no shortage of banks ready to provide finance to budding young entrepreneurs. Using the proceeds of the sale of one of her properties, she was able to pay cash for the western paddock, a rock solid piece of dirt, unencumbered. She was pleased. It kept her busy, it kept her mind occupied.
Not in any way however did it keep her mind from the thought that just six years beforehand, she had given birth to a daughter. Just six years ago, she had experienced the wonder of giving birth to new life. She had known this new life; she had suckled this new life, and then darkness. This new life was gone. Her daughter was not there anymore. She was with someone else, a stranger, someone who took her away. Even though her well defined business plan occupied her mind, helped her set her goals, drove her on, thoughts of Mary Therese were always there. What did she look like? Was she pretty? She constantly wondered where she was and what she was doing. Today, yesterday! What was she wearing? Did she laugh? Did she cry? Did she have friends? Whenever Andrea drove past a primary school and saw children playing in the school grounds, she thought of Mary Therese. She often parked the car outside a school, watched as the children played, and picked out one special child, imagining as she watched her, that this was her child. It was the same at the supermarket, as she watched mothers struggle with young children riding in the open trolley. It was the same as she watched television. Any news story involving children, happy stories, sad stories, children missing or hurt sent the pain of loss running through her blood.
It was months before the purchase of the 'western paddock' that Andrea enrolled at St. Michael's University College, to study part time and upgrade her qualifications. It was here she met the young Frank Martin, son of Gerard from Baldargo. Frank was studying Law, and it happened that one of his first-year subjects coincided with the area of Andrea's study. The two were similar in many ways. They were both commercially ambitious, of sharp mind, able to recognise opportunities and the means to take advantage of them. Frank was always ready to accept advice and encouragement from those he perceived to be knowledgeable, experienced and adept. Andrea embodied all of these things and Frank recognised her as such. She was five years his senior and his fresh, boyish charm appealed to her. They became friends, often enjoying lunch in the university cafeteria, or the occasional night out.
But Frank was also devious. When Andrea mentioned to him that she was interested in buying a rural property, he suggested she contact Bill Jacobs, a local agent in Baldargo. He knew that George Kenny wanted to sell off the western paddock. He knew his father could not afford it. He knew that Andrea had no immediate plans for the property and quietly discussed the whole scenario with Bill Jacobs.
Andrea knew nothing of this and admired Frank's determination to succeed. And so it was, from these modest beginnings, with constant and invaluable support both personal and commercial from Warwick that Andrea began to accumulate wealth. Young Frank Martin took note of her business sense, and his admiration for her increased. To him, her commercial prowess was inspirational as he watched her establish a solid portfolio. There were one or two men in her life, but she was cautious. Never again would she allow herself to be caught out. The hurt ran deep. Except for Warwick, and the young Frank Martin, she was wary of men who showed an interest in her, and while she liked their company, she avoided occasions where they might take advantage of her. Not that! Never again that!
Then, in the Spring of 1980, six months after the purchase of the western paddock, an event caused her atten
tion to focus more determinedly on the one area of her life that remained a source of anguish and pain, the matter of her missing daughter, Mary Therese.
It was Andrea's sister-in-law, Susan Steedman, the wife of her brother Warwick, who unintentionally kick-started the series of events that would set brother against brother and sister against sister. Susan gave birth to a baby girl, her second. It was a happy event to be sure, and all the family rejoiced. The Steedman family rallied around Susan and Warwick, and in the process, also celebrated Warwick's mother Elsie, who by the event became a grandmother. The one member of the family, who found it impossible to celebrate the occasion, was Andrea. The very first time she laid eyes on baby Joanne, she lapsed into depression. All the painful memories, sitting just below the surface of her emotional consciousness, rose up and went into overdrive. That tiny face, so adorable! That little baby, innocent, and helpless, magnified in Andrea her own painful loss.
Elsie noticed the change in Andrea's emotional state and eager to be of comfort, raised the subject of her thoughts about Maria Stewart. Although deep down, Andrea knew her mother would love and support her, she could not bring herself to reveal her true secret. It was out of a sense of respect for her mother that she therefore showed an interest in Maria, and agreed that the two of them pursue the matter of a possible blood connection. But thoughts of Mary Therese haunted her constantly. All the business success she had enjoyed could not counter the deprivation that enveloped her. She had to find Mary Therese. Life would never be the same until this agonising yearning was satisfied. She had to find her daughter. But how?
During a coffee break, one morning at the office, she telephoned Terri Carney. "Can I meet you for lunch? It's important, I don't want to talk about it over the phone," she told Terri. Terri had no idea what was on Andrea's mind. Her first thoughts were that she would ask for her old job back. Not possible, she had been replaced. But Terri agreed to the lunch meeting anyway. A couple of hours later at a restaurant on St. Kilda Road, the two women met for the first time since Andrea had left her job at Flyworld. Andrea was nervous and it showed. Terri did her best with the small talk, but she could feel the tension in the air and invited Andrea to tell her what was on her mind.
"I need to find my baby," she said without thinking, the image of baby Joanne still fresh in her mind. "What? What do you mean?" Terri asked, stunned by Andrea's bluntness. "I need to find Mary Therese. I have to find her. I can't sleep, I can't think straight. Every time I see a baby in a pram I think of her, wondering what she's doing, what she's up to. I can't go anywhere without bumping into situations that remind me of what I did six years ago. Now my sister in law has just had a baby and I'm reliving the whole business over again. Will you help me please? I just have to find her."
Terri reached out and took Andrea gently by the arm.
"Hey, calm down. Where is all this coming from? I don't hear from you for a few years and now you are suddenly in a panic over not having seen your daughter since she was a baby. What's been happening to you?" Terri asked. Andrea covered her face with her hands and began to sob. She told Terri of the business ventures she had embarked upon since leaving Flyworld, as if they were little more than a passing interest. She quickly moved on from there, and told her of her inability to engage with men, the emptiness inside her, the pain of loss, the depression. Terri was sympathetic and understanding.
"Okay," she said, "let's just take this one day at a time." Andrea recovered her composure and the two sat there holding hands across the table. "I thought perhaps you could contact Louise Whiltshire and ask her to make some enquiries," she said to Terri. "Louise?" Terri asked. "What's she got to do with this?" Andrea explained Louise's role in finding an adoption agency. "She introduced me to people at the Western Family Agency who interviewed me." Terri looked surprised. "Funny, she never mentioned any of that to me," she said. "In any event, Louise has left Flyworld, she's gone overseas on a working holiday. I wouldn't know how to get in touch with her." Andrea looked vacant and stunned. Terri anticipated another bout of sobbing and moved quickly. "You mentioned this agency, the Western something?" Andrea recovered. "Yes, the Western Family Agency, they arranged the adoption," she answered. "Okay, do you remember who handled your case there?" Terri asked. "I met two people, one was from the agency, a lady called Elizabeth, but I only saw her once. The other woman was called Julie something. Mac?er Maclan?um Macleod?yes, that's it Julie Macleod, I think. She was from the department." Terri suddenly felt an air of uncertainty about the way Andrea answered her questions. "Perhaps it might help if you told me exactly what happened from the moment you decided to allow Mary Therese to be adopted," she suggested. "It was Louise who first suggested it," Andrea replied. Hearing this further unsettled Terri, and she shifted uneasily in her seat. "Just tell me everything, right from the beginning," she said.
For the next fifteen minutes, Terri sat silently listening to Andrea's story about the initial meeting with Elizabeth Ashford, the subsequent interview with Julie Macleod, and the ever-encouraging Louise, standing by her and reassuring her. She listened as Andrea explained the meeting with Irene and James Campbell. Terri began to realize that the speed with which the adoption was handled, and the apparent lack of departmental paper work, was highly irregular, and the very thought of it sent a cold chill though her body. It wasn't until Andrea mentioned the two thousand dollars paid to her in a brown paper bag that Terri realized Andrea had in all probability, become the victim of a criminal act. "Who gave you this money?" she asked. "Louise gave it to me after the Campbells had taken Mary Therese away," Andrea answered. Terri was shocked. "Do you have any documentation, any paper work, anything on departmental letterhead?" Terri asked. "No," Andrea replied in a childlike way. "I signed something but I didn't see what it was. I don't have anything in writing." For a moment, Terri was so shocked she could not speak. Then, shattered as she was at the prospect that Louise Whiltshire, someone she knew and regarded as a friend, was involved in this deception, she gathered her thoughts and said, "Andrea, we have to be very careful here."
She was about to speak again, when a waitress came to the table asking if she could remove the plates. Terri nodded and asked, "Could we have some coffee please?" She then looked back at Andrea. "I hate to be the one to say this, but I think you have been the victim of an illegal process," she said. "What do you mean?" Andrea asked. "I think that the process by which you gave up Mary Therese was a sham. Nobody gets paid money to give up their baby, not if the process is followed properly. It sounds to me as if these people who were involved in this were running a bit of a racket," Terri said.
"But Louise? What about Louise? She wouldn't do that. She was wonderful to me. She was so helpful, so kind, she even allowed me to stay at her flat rent free for some of the time." As Andrea extolled the virtues she recalled in Louise, it suddenly dawned on both of them that the kindness and caring nature Louise demonstrated during Andrea's confinement was all part of the plan. As Andrea spoke, the light dawned in her mind. "Oh God," she said in despair. "How could she do that?" Andrea's emotional state began to deteriorate. Terri felt that this was a good time for them both to leave the restaurant. She cancelled the coffee and asked a passing waitress for the bill.
A few minutes later the two women were walking slowly along St. Kilda Road. "I don't know what to say," Terri said. "I feel responsible in a way. I was the one who arranged your move to Brisbane. I asked Louise to help get you settled." Andrea took Terri's hand in hers. "Will you help me?" she asked. "Will you help me find her?" Terri, responded, squeezing Andrea's hand. "I'll do what I can, I promise. The first thing I think we should do is write a letter to this agency. What was it called?" she asked. "The Western Family Agency," Andrea replied. "Right, well, that's where we should start," Terri replied.
7.