‘That’s silly. No, I wasn’t on their side. I wasn’t on anyone’s side; I just thought that it was best for Alice—’
‘What would you know about what’s best for Alice? You abandoned your own child!’ snapped Stephanie.
‘My situation was different,’ said Rita in a small voice.
‘Hang on a minute... You knew Roger married Miranda, didn’t you?’
‘No, of course I didn’t,’ said Rita, incredulous. ‘I told you—’
‘It makes sense now. That’s why you were not surprised when I told you they were living together,’ continued Stephanie as if she had not heard her. ‘Your friend—the one who introduced you to Miranda—she must have told you, and you’ve been keeping it from me.’
‘I haven’t seen her for years—’ Rita’s response was in vain, Stephanie appeared not to be listening to her anymore. ‘Steph?’
‘Oh my God,’ Stephanie shook her head, her eyes wide, ‘I’ve been such a fool. Is that why you were so keen for us to rekindle our friendship, so you could persuade me to tell Alice about the surrogacy agreement? Come to think of it, you were very insistent that you thought Alice should know the truth. I thought you were being a bit pushy, but I had no idea then that you had an ulterior motive. How could you? We used to be friends.’
‘Stop it, Stephanie!’ Rita’s voice boomed over the phone line and at last she caught Stephanie’s attention.
Something in the tone of her voice and the way Rita had used her full name to address her, had brought her mind back to reality.
‘Whatever you think of me I am not in cahoots with Roger and Miranda. In fact, if you’d bothered to listen to me a few minutes ago, you would know that I was shocked when I heard that they’d turned Alice away. You cannot compare my situation to theirs. The circumstances are completely different. They could have looked after Alice if they wanted to, but they chose not to. I didn’t choose, I didn’t have a choice.’ Rita was talking quickly and sounded upset. ‘And, I’ve already told you why I thought you should tell Alice about Miranda. That was in case she found out when she got in touch with Roger. I was looking at it from Alice’s point of view. I was thinking about my Peter, and comparing Alice to him. I knew it would be better for her to know her true identity. I saw how much of a difference it made to Peter’s life when he met me. He felt more complete.’
Stephanie was left speechless.
‘You have to believe me. The only reason I didn’t tell you any of this before was because I didn’t want to hurt you. I knew you needed a friend to help you through this. If I told you about Peter before, you wouldn’t have taken any of my advice seriously. I think I’ve learnt a lot from my experience with Peter, and I wanted to help you and Alice. Anyway, you can’t really compare what I did, with what Roger and Miranda did, can you?’
‘Sorry, Rita. This past week has been one revelation after the other. I’m finding it hard to keep my mind from exploding.’
‘It must be hard for you. It’s partly my fault. I should have told you about Peter before; but I promise I was only trying to help.’
Stephanie sighed. ‘I know. You’ve been the only person I could talk to about any of this, and I’m really grateful. I’m just shocked. I’m not thinking straight.’
‘I know,’ said Rita. ‘It’s okay.’
‘So what do you think I should do, about Roger and Miranda? Alice is so upset.’
‘I don’t know, Steph. I just don’t understand how they could have turned Alice away. I still remember the first time I saw my Peter. I grabbed hold of him and I couldn’t let go. I was so happy. I was crying, and I just wanted to make up for all the lost years. I can’t even begin to imagine why Roger and Miranda acted that way towards Alice.’
‘I just have to do something,’ said Stephanie.
***
When Stephanie put down the phone, she desperately searched her flat for her “A-Z Street Atlas”. In the days when Alice was younger, Stephanie had owned a car and driven everywhere, never taking public transport; but one day she decided to take the Tube to work and saw that as a better option; she'd sold her car and never driven anywhere since. Sometimes, she regretted it; especially when she had to go somewhere late in the evening, or when the trains were so packed she couldn't get a seat—but mostly she liked the convenience of taking the Tube, not having to worry about car maintenance, and she'd been able to start reading again. She'd loved reading as a young girl, but life got in the way. Ever since she had started travelling to work on public transport, she'd rediscovered the written word, and could get so lost and absorbed in a book sometimes that she almost missed her stop. The downside to travelling everywhere underground, was that she was hopeless at directions now, and whilst frantically searching for her A to Z, she pondered how—since she had started using the Tube—she had never had much use for the atlas. Hope I didn’t throw it away, she thought.
She looked through some old books that were sitting idly on the unit in the living room, gathering dust. Then she saw it. It was old and tattered, and she wondered whether the streets had changed since the late 1970s. She looked at the index. Alice said the name of the street where Roger lives is “Oakfield”... No... “Oakleigh”, no... what is it? It’s “Oak”-something. She looked down the list of road names. “Oakview”! That’s it! “Oakview Road, Finchley”.
Chapter Fourteen
Sunday 24th August 1997
Twenty-seven, Oakview Road. The address was now firmly burnt into Stephanie’s mind. She emerged from Finchley Central Underground Station at 11.30 a.m. The memory of Alice, so distraught at dinner the night before, nagged at her.
As she walked towards Oakview Road, her temperature rose at the thought of how Roger and Miranda had made Alice feel so unwelcome. No doubt, they were ashamed of their past, and Alice probably brought back memories that they would prefer to forget, but she was their daughter; they owed her a little respect—all she'd wanted was to meet her parents and get a few simple answers, but they had rejected her.
By the time Stephanie reached number twenty-seven Oakview Road, she was fuming. She decided to take a few deep breaths, to calm herself down before she ventured further. For a few minutes, she sat on the low wall that surrounded the front garden, trying to convince herself that showing her anger would only make things worse. Stay calm, stay calm, she repeated to herself. The night before, she had hardly slept as she had been running through in her mind what she would say to Roger and Miranda. You messed up my life, I won’t let you do the same to Alice. How dare you cocoon yourselves in this lie, shutting out your own flesh and blood? Do you know how upset that child was when she got home? Do you even care? Have you even got any feelings? Of course you haven’t! The woman who gave away her child for a bit of money and the man who left his wife and child to fend for themselves so that he could continue an adulterous affair! The thoughts invaded her mind; repeating, rephrasing. In her head she had created images of what Roger and Miranda would look like now, and how they would be standing, staring at her as she gave them a piece of her mind.
She had wound herself up to almost boiling point, unable to think about them without wanting to rant and rave, and tell them what she really thought of them. Ultimately, she realised that this would not be the best way to approach the problem. Her goal was to try to make Roger see that he had been wrong to turn Alice away. She couldn't afford to alienate him further. Surely he must have at least one remorseful bone in his body, she mused.
She began to feel self-conscious sitting on the wall outside the house, worried that Roger or Miranda may see her through the window. She ran her hands through her hair hoping it did not look too windswept, took a deep breath and then stood up. Hesitantly, she opened the gate and approached the front door.
She prayed that she could keep up the ambience of stilted calm at least until she finished saying what she had come to say. With bated breath, she knocked on the front door. After about half a minute, the door was opened. Stephanie's eyes widened
when she saw who she knew must be Jane, standing at the door. It was like looking at Alice with a different hairstyle. She noticed the plaster cast on her right arm and recalled that the girl had been in the newspaper; one of the survivors of the plane crash she had read about.
‘Hello,’ said Jane.
‘Hello,’ said Stephanie, continuing to stare at her. ‘Can I speak to your father? I’m...’ She hesitated. ‘I’m an old friend.’
Jane looked at her, and smiled politely. ‘Okay, I’ll just call him. Do you want to come in?’
‘Um… yes, thanks.’ Stephanie felt wary and uncomfortable when she stepped inside the house, and began to wish she had stayed outside.
Jane closed the door behind her.
‘You can sit in the living room. I’ll just get my dad.’ Jane pointed to the living room door and then disappeared upstairs.
Stephanie walked into the room. It was neat and tidy and looked freshly decorated. The sun was streaming in through the bay window. She noticed the black leather sofa, and two armchairs. There were quite a few houseplants in the room; seeing them, she remembered that Roger had always liked plants when they were living together.
After a few nerve racking minutes where Stephanie stood as still as a statue in the middle of the room, not wanting to sit down—wanting to flee but knowing she must stay—Ken walked through the door. ‘Hello,’ he said.
When she turned to face him, she noticed the look of surprise on his face.
‘S... S... Stephanie?’ he stammered. He turned bright red and cupped his face with his hands briefly.
When he slowly removed his hands, his mouth was open and his eyebrows raised. It had obviously come as a shock to him that she would visit. Looking at him, she noticed that he looked old; in fact she was quite startled by just how old he appeared. His hair was grey and thinning, and he seemed shorter than he had been. It struck her that she had, quite irrationally, been expecting to see the same man who had walked out on her all those years ago, but now she was looking at an older man. Suddenly she didn’t feel so much angry as sorry for him.
‘This is a surprise,’ he said softly, after a few moments of intense silence.
‘Hmm… I don't know why it should come as a surprise to you that I'm here after the way you behaved towards Alice.’ She narrowed her eyes at him, trying hard to still the bubbling rage within her.
He appeared to be avoiding eye contact. ‘Um… yes. Well, I can explain all that. You'll understand that it's for the best.’
Stephanie frowned. He’s hoping to explain it all away. Trying to convince me that he’s right again.
‘Please sit down,’ he said.
His voice was beginning to annoy her now.
Calm down, calm down, she told herself.
‘Would you like a drink?’ he asked.
Was that nervousness that she could hear in his voice?
She avoided looking at him, trying to retain her composure, and sat down on the sofa, placing her handbag next to her. ‘No, I wouldn’t like a drink. I don’t intend to stay for long. I’ll just say what I have to say, and I’ll leave.’
‘Fine,’ he said. An audible sigh left his lips.
He sat down on an armchair to the right hand side of the sofa, his forehead was creased into a frown, and she could see the lines that time had chiselled there.
‘Where’s Miranda? She should really hear what I have to say,’ said Stephanie.
‘She’s busy,’ he said, and then followed his speech with a nervous cough.
‘Surely, she can spare a few minutes? This is important.’
‘No. You can tell me whatever you’ve come to say. I’ll tell Miranda.’ He spoke louder now, although his voice was still tinged with nervousness as if he was dreading what she was about to say.
‘Hmm… okay, have it your way. Roger—’
‘CalI me Ken, I haven’t used the name Roger for over ten years,’ he interrupted, drumming his fingers on the arm of the armchair as he spoke.
‘I don’t give a damn about you, or your name. You can call yourself anything you like, it won’t change who you are. You’re still a selfish—’ Stephanie caught her breath and paused for a moment. She breathed in deeply. Her calming technique wasn't working. Her anger was like a tap dripping into a sink until it finally overflowed. She sighed and continued, knowing that she would have to just say what she had come to say and then leave as soon as possible. The sooner she was out of this place the better. ‘You haven’t changed at all, have you? You’re still the same. Always thinking about yourself over everyone else. How dare you treat Alice like that? Do you know she was in tears last night? She came to my flat for dinner and had to explain everything to me; how her own parents practically threw her out of their house. She’s your child. She wanted to find you, to talk to you. All you could do was turn her away. You couldn’t even spare five minutes of your time for her after nearly twenty years. You... You and Miranda, both of you, are so cold, so...’
‘Have you just come here to abuse me?’ Ken stood up. ‘That's your way, isn't it, Stephanie? The world revolves around you, and if you don't get your way you stamp your feet and make a scene. Just remember that if it wasn't for you and your bloody tantrums we wouldn't be in this mess to begin with! You're the one who wanted a bloody child.’
Stephanie looked at him, open-mouthed. ‘How could you say that? You don't mean that, do you?’
‘Face it, Stephanie!’ he said, a snarl on his face, ‘I never wanted Alice; you did. Go home and take care of her.’
‘You arrogant bastard!’
‘This is my home,’ he said leaning towards her and looking into her eyes. ‘I’ll have to ask you to leave if you continue to insult me.’
‘Oh.’ She nodded. ‘You’re good at that, aren’t you?’
He glanced at her, venom in his eyes. ‘What?’
‘You’re good at running away from your problems! You just can’t bear to hear the truth, can you?’ Stephanie picked up her handbag, and stood up. ‘Don’t worry, I’m leaving. I can’t bear to be in your presence for a minute longer.’ She turned towards the door.
‘Stephanie!’ He called out to her as she had her hand on the door handle. ‘Wait.’
She stood motionless, with her back towards him—too enraged to face him.
‘This is stupid,’ he said. ‘We shouldn't be shouting at each other like this.’
She turned towards him, daring to believe that he might have acknowledged his mistake.
‘You have to understand why I didn’t want to see Alice,’ he continued. ‘You're the best person to explain it to her. I have a new life now. It would do none of us any good now to open up old wounds.’
‘Oh don’t give me that!’ Stephanie shook her head. ‘Alice always has been, and always will be, a part of your life. You just have to face up to the responsibility of being a parent. You can't just close the door on her!’
‘It's awkward,’ he said, weakly.
She let go of the door handle and frowned. ‘What's awkward? Are you afraid that I'll make problems for you and Miranda? Is that it? Is that why you didn't want me to meet her today?’
‘No,’ he said, avoiding her eyes.
‘I don't care about you and Miranda. A lot of water has passed under the bridge since we were together. I really don’t care about you anymore, Roger—sorry, Ken, or whatever your name is. I stopped caring about you when you walked out on me and Alice, twenty years ago; when you left us alone. I don’t care what you do. All I’m concerned about is Alice. She wanted to meet her father. She was so excited when she found out where you live. She imagined you would welcome her with open arms, and offer to make up for all the lost years. But, no—you just treated her like a stranger, huh, worse than a stranger. She is so upset.’
‘Stephanie, I can’t just play happy families and do whatever Alice wants. There is more to it than that. I’m happy with my life; with Miranda and our daughter, Jane. I don’t want anything to come between us, or spoil
what we have.’
‘Oh, how cosy! Face up to your responsibilities for once, Roger! You have another daughter, whether you like it or not! She won’t just go away. She’s a person. She has feelings. You can’t just run away from everything, like you did all those years ago.’
‘That’s what all this is about, isn’t it?’ he sneered. ‘You’re still bitter, after all these years. I left you, and you just can’t handle the fact that I’m with Miranda.’
‘Oh, grow up! This isn’t about me and you, or your male ego. It’s about Alice. You abandoned her once, all those years ago. Now you’ve sent her away again.’
‘Well, I’m truly sorry I had to do that. And, believe me, if things were different, I would have welcomed her.’ He sat down again on the armchair, looking weary. ‘Don’t you think I would like to get to know her? Do you think I’m that uncaring? When I left you, all those years ago, it was for the best. All we did was argue. As much as it hurt me to leave Alice, I had to go. Don’t get me wrong, I still loved you, but I couldn’t live with you. I gave up that part of my life when I walked out the door. Don’t you see? I can’t go back. Everything is so different now. Too much is at stake.’
‘But I’ve come here to try to make you understand that it isn’t too late for you to have a relationship with Alice.’ Stephanie sat down opposite Ken on the sofa.
He shook his head. ‘Jane is my first priority, I have to think about her. All of this... she doesn’t know anything about it. It would be too much for her. She’s so young. She... She’s been through enough trauma recently, with the plane crash. I can’t just dish this out to her. Not now.’ He looked weary.
‘But, my understanding is that Jane knows about Alice now, Roger—sorry, Ken,’ said Stephanie, calmly, realising he had become upset. ‘Alice met her and they talked. Jane is okay about it. Why can’t you be?’