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The Secrets in Silence
By Nicole Trope Allen & Unwin
Copyright © 2014 Nicole Trope
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4956-3997-5
CHAPTER 1
'Emergency services.'
'Yes, it's my daughter. I need an ambulance for her. I need an ambulance right now! My daughter is passed out and bleeding. She's bleeding everywhere.'
'Is she breathing? You can say you don't know?'
'Um, she's ... is she breathing? Yes, she's breathing, but there's blood everywhere — it's all over the bathroom.'
'Do you know where the blood is coming from?'
'I don't — I don't know. It's all over her pants. All over her pants. It's all over the floor. It's everywhere! Jesus, where's it coming from?'
'Sir, you need to calm down so we can help you.'
'My wife is a nurse. She says it's from ... where did you say? I don't know! I don't understand! Look, you need to send an ambulance now!'
'All right, sir. Take a deep breath. An ambulance is on the way. Can you confirm your address for me, please?'
CHAPTER 2
Minnie turned her body one way and then another, angling herself into the tight cubicle.
'There should be a law,' she puffed to herself as she always did. Once she had managed to close the toilet door she stood for a moment and breathed in and out, swallowing the bitter taste of her shame at her unwieldy body. She waited patiently for her racing heart to resume its normal rhythm, dabbing at the sweat on her forehead and upper lip with the ends of her long red scarf. The short walk had brought on a hot flush, making her long for a bath of ice to sink into. She stood quietly until she felt her body calm itself.
'Right, let's get this show on the road,' she muttered. She lifted her large bag with slightly trembling arms and hung it on the hook at the back of the door, pleased to find the small metal piece still there. She had no idea why anyone would want to steal the hook off the back of the toilet stall door, but it wasn't the strangest thing she'd ever heard of being stolen.
Last year someone had stolen a plant right out of her front garden. It was an orchid and just beginning to bloom. The thief must have come equipped with a bucket and spade to dig up the garden in the middle of the night. Minnie had been too shocked by the act to actually be upset at the loss but she had missed the beautiful pinks of the flower.
She had walked all the way across the shopping centre to get to this bathroom. It would have taken most people only a few minutes, but for Minnie it had been a marathon. She knew the inside of her thighs would be red-raw. She preferred this bathroom because it was usually empty. The shops on either side had closed down and it was far away from the hub of the supermarkets and fresh-food stores.
Minnie preferred the privacy of the empty bathroom when she absolutely could not hang on until she got home. If she went into the big bathroom near the busy part of the centre she had to endure the looks of disgust from other women waiting. Teenage girls giggled. Young children stared open-mouthed. Although the sight of a large person was not exactly unusual, children were still shocked by her size. The bathroom in the busy part of the centre was large and airy, however, the cubicles were still small, and she would have had an audience as she manoeuvred herself into one. It was better to be alone when such a thing was necessary. At home the bathroom was bigger and she could almost pretend that she was a normal size. It was the one part of the house she and her mother had changed.
Minnie lifted up the folds of her rose-patterned dress and stepped backwards towards the toilet. Her hands were tugging at her underwear when she heard a sound like a hiss of air.
'Good Lord, Mum, what on earth could that be?' she whispered.
The sound could have come from her own body for all she knew. The bigger she grew the more precarious her control of herself seemed to become.
But she would have to check. Sitting on a toilet that you couldn't see was difficult enough without wondering what may or may not be lurking in the bowl. Who knew what might crawl up through the horrors of the sewerage system? In America people found alligators in their toilets.
She pulled her underwear up again and smoothed down the material of her voluminous dress and then shuffled around one step at a time so she could peer into the toilet.
Afterwards she would thank God for her strong bladder and her still-beating heart because who'd imagine you could find such a thing in a shopping-centre toilet?
She didn't scream because Minnie was not a screamer, and panicking took too much energy, so after just a moment's stunned observation she reached down and plucked the blood-covered infant out of the toilet.
'Look at this, Mum, just look at this.' She grabbed the baby under the arms and said, 'Lord, give me the strength to deal with this.'
The baby's feet had been down by the S bend and its head had been resting just below the rim.
As Minnie picked it up it gave a tiny high-pitched wail. The bathroom was cold but the baby was warm and slimy. It could not have been long since it was safe inside a womb.
'What an undignified start to your life, little one,' Minnie murmured.
She wondered where the mother might be. Had Minnie seen her? She could remember passing a few people on the way to the bathroom but it was her habit to stare straight ahead or at her lumbering feet and avoid meeting anyone's gaze. Eye contact made some people think it gave them the right to smirk or make comments. She could recall blood red painted toenails in high black stilettoes, black boots and her own red-veined feet, but she had not seen any faces.
The baby was still attached to the placenta by the cord, Minnie noticed.
'The cord needs to be cut, Mum, I know that much. It was on telly the other night, remember?'
Gently she placed the baby back into the toilet bowl then rummaged in her gold-and-green-flecked bag for a clip and her nail scissors.
'A lady is always prepared,' her mother would have said.
'Never imagined I would have to prepare for something like this, Mum,' muttered Minnie.
She knew what to do from the birth documentaries. She never tired of watching them. It was the same as those girls who starved themselves while watching cooking shows — an exquisite torture.
The scissors in the documentaries always looked huge but she would have to make do. The cutting never looked like it bothered the baby. She hoped that was true. She closed her eyes and thought for a moment about how the cord had been held by the capable doctor. In the documentaries they usually let the father do it. How hard could it be?
Minnie placed the clip where she thought it should go and then waited a minute before sawing through the tough sinew with her nail scissors. It was a revolting feeling but she didn't think about that. She needed to free the poor creature from its tether.
Once the baby was free of the cord Minnie lifted it out of the toilet again and listened for any sounds to indicate someone else had entered the bathroom.
There was only faraway outside noises from the shopping centre.
The birth documentaries always showed the ecstasy on the mother's face once the pain of birth was over and the infant was safely on the breast. Minnie liked the part where the mother and baby saw each other for the first time. It always seemed as though they recognised each other. She looked at the baby in her arms. Its eyes were closed but as she watched it opened them just a little and gave her a grey lizard look.
Minnie felt a bit like crying herself, like the women in the documentaries, but that would achieve nothing.
'What are we going to do about this then, Mum?'
The quiet of the bathroom was broken only by her own heavy breathing and the light wheezy breaths of the baby.
They were alone.
Then the baby began to cry properly and Minnie felt her mind cloud for a moment before her hands took over. Cradling the baby in one arm, she grabbed the scarf from around her neck whilst still holding the greasy creature under the arms.
She could barely move in the cubicle.
She pushed the infant to one side and held it under her arm, supporting its head as she had seen the doctors on television do. It was slippery and writhing and she was terrified she was going to drop it. She flipped the lid of the toilet down and laid the scarf across it. She placed the now-screaming baby on top of the scarf and wrapped it up tight until it resembled a red cocoon with only the nose and mouth exposed. She tucked the ends of her scarf into the bundle and held it up to view with a critical eye.
'What do you think, Mum?'
The child's cries had begun to ease as soon as Minnie began wrapping it. Now it was silent. Its eyes were closed as though it had expended all its energy with the small protest it had made.
Minnie held it up and put her ear to its chest. She felt the tiny chest move up and down, and nodded.
She turned back around again and opened the door of the stall.
The bathroom only had three toilets in it and it was still empty. Minnie breathed a sigh of relief and was aware of the urgent pressure on her bladder again.
'Fuck,' she said out loud, almost enjoying the uncharacteristic feel of the word on her tongue.
'Sorry, Lord, but I'm sure you must understand my loss of control,' she said.
She reversed back into the stall and closed the door again, catching sight of her large bag on the hook.
She looked down at the sleeping infant, then opened the bag with one hand and placed it gently inside. The baby huffed a little but made no other sound.
'Good,' said Minnie and then flushed the toilet to wash away the blood and muck from the baby. She had to flush twice, and the wait to allow the cistern to fill felt interminable.
She used the toilet and then flushed again and manoeuvred herself out of the cubicle, holding the bag in her sweaty hands.
She put the straps of the bag over her shoulder, washed her hands and left the bathroom.
Minnie trudged quickly through the shopping centre towards her car. She kept one hand in the bag and on the small chest, making sure that the swaddled child was getting enough air. Her bag contained a loaf of soft chewy bread she had bought just before realising she needed the bathroom and she fancied that it made a comfortable bed.
As she moved through the shopping centre Minnie looked behind herself continually — expecting to be tapped on the shoulder at any moment. Her heart skipped in her chest and she had to keep wiping at the sweat on her face.
She wanted to shout with joy when she saw her car but she just kept moving. She got into her car and removed the baby from the bag, placing it gently on the seat next to her with the bread as a bolster. 'Let's get the show on the road,' she said as she backed slowly out of the parking space. 'Let's get the show on the road.'
Once she was free of the shopping centre carpark she began to giggle and she could not stop until she pulled into her driveway at home.
'No going back now, Mum,' she said.
Inside, Minnie fired up the heater and unwrapped the baby slowly.
'So you're a girl,' she said, and the baby began to wail again.
'Look, Mum — it's a little girl. Imagine that. Who'd want to leave a poor little thing like her, do you suppose?' She shook her head. 'Well, thank the Lord you have good lungs,' said Minnie to the baby. 'I bet you're hungry, little girl. I need to get you some food and some clothes and — oh my, there's a lot to do.'
The baby's cries grew louder and more frantic.
'Now, that's enough of that,' said Minnie. 'You need to hush and I'll take care of everything. You're safe here now with me. You're safe with me and Mum.' She closed her eyes for a moment. 'Lord God, guide me and protect me in this endeavour and keep this little one safe.'
She wrapped the baby up again and lifted it to her chest. It smelled like soil, like the earth and slightly of blood. Minnie bounced it against her large breasts and the baby closed its eyes again.
Newborns could sleep for a long time after birth, according to one of the doctors on television. The TLC channel screened one baby show after another and Minnie would sit on her red velvet couch night after night drinking in the images of babies and their happy families as she pushed indiscriminate amounts of food into her mouth.
'Who'd have thought I would ever get the chance, hey, Mum?'
Minnie knew she needed to get organised.
There was no way she could go back to the shopping centre but there was a 7-Eleven down the road. She could walk there and pick up enough to get by for a couple of days, and order online later.
At no point did she consider calling the police or letting anyone know what she had found.
'The Lord works in mysterious ways,' her mother had always said.
And that was good enough for Minnie.
CHAPTER 3
'Mr Sanderson? Mr and Mrs Sanderson?'
'Yeah, that's me. I'm Max Sanderson.'
'Mr Sanderson, I'm Dr Elias — I've been treating your daughter. She is your daughter, is that correct?'
'Yes, I'm Tara's father. And this is Tara's stepmother.'
'Is Tara's mother here?'
'No, she's ah ...'
'Oh, for God's sake, Max. I'm Alicia Sanderson, Dr Elias. I'm Tara's stepmother and I have been for the last ten years. Her mother is currently at Peace Hills.'
'The psychiatric hospital?'
'Yes. My wife — that is, my ex-wife — suffers from bipolar disorder and schizophrenia.'
Max and Alicia and the doctor were all silent for a moment, swallowing the intimate details that had just been shared. Max shook his head, clearing it of thoughts of his ex-wife. 'What's wrong with Tara? Is she okay? Why was there so much blood? Where was it even coming from?'
'Perhaps you could come with me; there's a small lounge just down the hall.'
Dr Elias was tall and thin and he loped off down the hallway without waiting for a reply.
Alicia grabbed Max's hand and they followed the doctor into a small room with a tan leather couch, a water dispenser and a lush green pot plant. Max wondered if the plant was real and had to restrain himself from reaching out to touch the thick waxy leaves.
They sat gingerly on the couch. Alicia knew exactly what they used rooms like this for, and even though she knew that Max was terrified and that she should feel nothing but anxiety, she felt more weary than anything else. She dropped Max's hand and crossed her arms over her chest.
Tara had slammed out of the house that morning after claiming to be unwell and whilst Alicia had felt she should have gone after her she was just grateful to be free of the girl's sour presence for a while.
'Mr Sanderson, as you know Tara was brought into the hospital by ambulance a short time ago. She was taken into the emergency room immediately and I was called in to help with the situation. I'm the obstetrics resident on call today.'
'But that's for ... for pregnant women. Isn't that for pregnant women, Alicia?'
'It is, Mr Sanderson. We examined Tara thoroughly and we have stopped the bleeding.'
'That's good, right, Ali? That's good, isn't it?'
Alicia nodded. She wanted to shout at Max to shut up. She knew what was coming.
'Mr Sanderson, the extensive bleeding was an indication that some time in the past twelve hours your daughter has given birth. The bleeding was the result of a secondary postpartum haemorrhage. This can be caused by an infection or, as in your daughter's case, it can be caused by a piece of placenta that was left over in the uterus.'
'What do you mean she's given birth? That's not possible — it's completely impossible. You must have made some sort of mistake. The bleeding must be from ... from something else.'
'I'm afraid not, Mr Sanderson. It's clear that Tara has recently given birth.'
'Will she be all right?'
'Yes, Mrs Sanderson — she will. We caught it in time and although she needed a transfusion she'll be fine.'
'But I don't understand — how could she be pregnant? She's only fifteen ... she's so young. We never knew. Alicia, why didn't we know?'
'Five minutes ago I was only her stepmother,' thought Alicia. 'Now I'm supposed to have the answers.'
She sighed. 'I don't know, Max. You know what she's like ...'
'Oh, for fuck's sake, Alicia, let's not dump on the kid now,' said Max.
'I'm not dumping on her, Max. I'm just saying that she's very secretive. She spends more time in her room than anywhere else and she's always dressed in all those layers. She could have been hiding anything under there.'
'You're a nurse, Alicia.'
'I work with women after they've had the baby, Max. Please do not make this my sole responsibility.'
'I'm not, Alicia, I'm just saying —'
'Mr and Mrs Sanderson, our current concern is for the baby.'
Max and Alicia both blushed. The doctor's presence had been forgotten.
'The baby?' said Max. How could Tara have a baby? She was just a baby herself.
'Yes, Mr Sanderson — the baby. Your daughter gave birth a short time ago and we have no idea where the infant is. The baby may have been stillborn or it might be alive somewhere. I've called the police and they'll be here shortly.'
'The police? What the fuck for?'
Alicia placed a warning hand on Max's arm.
'I'm sorry, Mr Sanderson, but it's mandatory for us to report cases like this. We have a duty of care to the child.'
(Continues...)
Excerpted from The Secrets in Silence by Nicole Trope. Copyright © 2014 Nicole Trope. Excerpted by permission of Allen & Unwin.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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