Birth Marks (22 page)

She paused, choosing her words. ‘Well, I suppose I think he's not that much of a fool.'

Great. If you can't trust your sister who can you trust? But nobody else tells you quite as much truth. We sat silent for a moment. Then she said, ‘You're in trouble, aren't you?'

‘I don't know.' I thought about it. ‘It's possible.'

‘Can I help?'

I thought about it some more. ‘Yeah. I might need somewhere to stay for the night.'

She looked at me for a moment, and we both read the disappointment in her eyes. ‘Of course. The spare room's made up.'

‘Thanks. I won't get in the way. And anything you need me to do…'

She got up and turned her attention to the sink, maybe so I wouldn't register how the disappointment had turned to anger. ‘Yes, well, as a matter of fact there is. I didn't manage to get out to the shops today. Colin's due home in a couple of hours and I need to buy some stuff for dinner. It would be easier if I didn't have to take Ben with me.'

The little man himself was still comatose, eyelids fluttering on dreams of lactose sucked from giant breasts. Interesting how as they grow older the milk dream dries up but the other fantasies remain. ‘Of course. Be as long as you like. You know, if you want I'll babysit. The two of you could go out for the evening. See a movie, have a meal.' You could tell she was tempted. ‘It's all right. I've done it before. He knows I can change a nappy and make a bottle.'

‘Yes, but what if he wakes up later?'

‘Then I'll pick him up and sing to him. He'll go to sleep immediately to get away from the noise.'

She smiled. Pax. Like exchanging toys or Barbie-doll clothes when we were little. ‘I'll ring Colin, see what he says.'

Colin, of course, said yes. Anything rather than have to share the dinner table with his sister-in-law. They agreed to meet in town. Together we bathed Benjamin and put him in his nightsuit. Of course he sussed something was up, clung to Kate as soon as she started to get dressed. By the time the cab came they were inseparable. I put my hands out. ‘Come on, give him to me. You know he'll stop screaming the minute you're out of the door.' But behind her reticence I read something else. Something she didn't quite know how to say. ‘Kate, don't even think about it. Nobody knows where I am. We'll be quite safe. Do you really think I would have asked to stay in the first place if it was any other way?' Put like that it made both of us embarrassed. I gave her a gentle push. ‘Go on, get out of here. You know you want to.'

We went out together to see her off, Benjamin a screeching windmill in my arms. She waved all the way down the road from the back window of the cab. It was more traumatic for her than for him. As soon as he sussed that his screams wouldn't bring her back he treated the whole thing with admirable pragmatism, aided and abetted by the odd digestive biscuit in my pocket. Silence fell. We went back and sat together in the living-room watching
Sesame Street
on the video, after which we both crawled round the carpet in pursuit of each other. Eventually he got tired and lay on the floor. I was tempted to join him. I went into the kitchen and heated up some milk. He took the bottle and allowed me to carry him up the stairs to the bedroom. He whimpered a little when I put him down, so I sat by the cot and stroked his back. He rooted himself down in the bedclothes, bottom up in the air, eyes wide open watching me through the bars. I told him a story. About the last few days. He fell asleep before I got to the end.

I sat with him for a little while, just in case. His sense of peace was seductive, so complete, so contagious, so simple. A bottle of milk, the odd biscuit and an endless supply of love and attention; when it comes down to it that's all they require. And in return they make you feel indispensable. Until, that is, they can do it for themselves. After which it's just a matter of time and bloody battles until they decide to leave home. I did it to my family, he would do it to his. The mistake is letting yourself feel like a parent when all you really are is a guardian. Of course, you can see it all so clearly from the outside. Yet ask Kate or my mother about the sense of loss, and both of them would no doubt swear it was all worth it, that the pleasure far outweighed any pain. But then they could hardly say anything else, could they? Sometimes I think motherhood is really a form of religious conversion: faith taking you places where reason cannot follow. But as we all know, even atheists sometimes find themselves wondering what all the fuss is about.

See what happens when you spend too much time watching sleeping cherubs? Downstairs I turned up the baby alarm until I could hear him breathing, made myself a strong cup of coffee and went back to work. There was only one message on my answering machine at home. But it was worth waiting for: Hugh's voice sounding just a little excited. ‘Hannah, I've done some work on this stuff. You'd better give me a call. I don't know if it'll help but I think I've found something. I'll be at home after eight.'

I looked at my watch: 8.14 p.m. I redialled.

‘I
'll go through it point by point, all right. Stop me if you don't understand.'

‘OK.'

‘The first thing you should know is that there were definite signs of pre-eclampsia. The blood pressure started to rise around week thirty and there were traces of protein in her urine. Also some swelling of the ankles.'

‘You mean you think she could have had some kind of fit after all?'

‘No, that's not what I said. I know it's important, Hannah, but it'll be easier if you just listen rather than jump.'

‘Sorry.'

‘OK. The other thing the report says, quite categorically, is that the AID donor was rhesus negative too. Now since you told me that she knew the donor I would assume that that information comes from a blood test done by the doctor.' Of course. He had treated the old man for long enough, must have punctured a thousand holes in that liver-spotted skin. Rhesus negative, eh. Both of them. It had indeed been a coupling made in heaven. What was the rule? Two rhesus negatives cannot make a positive…I bit my tongue.

‘Now what that means, of course, is that since two negatives can't make a positive the baby would have automatically been rhesus negative too. So far so simple. Medical fact.'

‘Which also means that even if the mother did have antibodies the baby would have been safe?'

He sighed. ‘You know you never could be quiet for more than five minutes at a time. I always found it extremely irritating and very attractive at the same time.' Did you? How come you never told me? Ah well, too late now. ‘Anyway, you're absolutely right. Rhesus antibodies can only work against rhesus positive blood. The mother
did
have antibodies though. The report shows a blood test taken just after pregnancy was established. The titre is very small, but they are there.'

‘Titre?'

‘Sorry, jargon. It's how we measure antibodies.'

‘Right.'

‘Now comes the more complicated part. With a rhesus negative woman most doctors nowadays would monitor the antibody levels throughout the pregnancy. Maybe once at twenty-eight weeks, again at thirty-two. That's more or less automatic practice now. However, this doctor didn't do it.'

‘I see.' Except I didn't, quite. ‘But I mean why should he?—you said yourself that the baby was rhesus negative. In which case there was no chance of the antibodies harming it.'

‘Yes, that's true. And no doubt that was exactly what this doctor thought too. Even so, precautions are precautions. And if he were my houseman he'd be looking for another job.'

I had this image of the faithful old French retainer skulking out of the hospital, under the never-darken-my-doors-again finger of the shining young consultant. ‘I think it might have been more a question of retirement than redundancy. I gather he'd been around for a while.'

‘Yes, well maybe that was his problem. Anyway, let's get back to the pregnancy. According to the report the first six or seven months went fine, no problems. Then around thirty weeks the patient starts to develop the first signs of pre-eclampsia with a rise in blood pressure. As far as the doctor ascertains everything else is OK. Her weight appears perfectly satisfactory, no excessive gain as usually happens with pre-eclampsic mothers, a basic external examination shows the baby to be growing well and the patient says she's feeling regular movements. He advises her to take it easy, to rest. Fair enough. High blood pressure can often cure itself. Two weeks later her urine starts to show traces of protein. Sign two. Six days later—she's now thirty-four weeks—he notes that she is very anxious, although still insisting that she's feeling fine. However there is now swelling occurring in fingers and feet, although by thirty-four weeks that could be happening anyway. He orders her to bed for three days. But then the blood pressure is still high, the urine still has protein, the swelling is slightly better. According to her there are no other symptoms, no headaches or problems with vision. He decides to keep her in bed and monitor her. For the next ten days nothing changes. By now I would have had her in hospital, but he's hanging on.' He paused, but it was more for breath than effect. That silence was still to come. ‘Then—and I must say not before time—he sends off a blood test.'

This was it. I could tell from the sound of his voice. ‘And?'

‘The result shows a massive titre of antibodies.'

Yep, definitely it. But what? ‘Wait a minute, I don't understand. You mean more than before?'

‘I mean massively more.'

‘But how is that possible? I mean I thought the whole idea of a rhesus-negative baby was that the mother wouldn't produce more antibodies.'

‘Not wouldn't, Hannah, couldn't. It isn't possible. That's the point.'

‘So what does it mean?'

‘It means that the baby can't have been rhesus negative.'

‘But I thought you said that two…' Holy shit. A positive baby. ‘You mean that the father can't have been rhesus negative after all? The donor wasn't the real father?'

‘You got it.' Next to me the baby alarm exploded with noise. I almost dropped the phone with terror. ‘Hannah, you still there?'

‘Yes…er…it was just a child coughing. It's OK. My God, Hugh, but would
she
have known? I mean could she…'

‘You're in a better position to answer that question than I am. Assuming she knew that the father wasn't the father—and since all AID candidates are told specifically not to sleep with anyone else at time of insemination, she must have been aware of the risks, and assuming she understood the significance of rhesus disease—and most textbooks spell it out pretty clearly—then at some level, yes, she would have known.'

I heard Belmont in his tell-the-truth voice describe again those idyllic middle few months. ‘She seemed very happy with her decision. She even became quite interested in the process, reading a lot about the pregnancy…' Until the change. Yes, she had known. She must have done. But there was no one she could tell. No wonder she'd become withdrawn. No wonder she'd asked to leave. Except…except if Hugh had worked it out, then so, eventually, must everyone else.

‘Hugh, when did you say the doctor did that final blood test?'

‘Just under thirty-six weeks.'

‘No, the date, what was the date?'

‘Hold on, I'll have to look it up.' I waited, smelling my own sweat on my skin. ‘Boy, this guy's writing is terrible. Here you are. It's the last entry—18 January.'

18 January? The day after she phoned Eyelashes. The day that, according to Belmont, she went out to buy Augusta Patrick's birthday present and never came back. ‘And when did the result come through?' I think my voice might have been shaking.

‘It's not dated differently, so I presume that same day. Presumably for once in his life he used a bit of medical science and sent it out to an emergency lab. Maybe he was suspicious. In which case depending on how far the nearest lab was he could have got the result back in what, a couple of hours?'

‘And the doctor would have realized, I mean about the father?'

‘Of course. It would have explained everything. There was, I'm afraid, a certain medical irony to all this. You see, in extreme cases pre-eclampsia can be one of the signs of rhesus disease. But you hardly ever come across it because it doesn't usually get to that stage. As I said, normally the doctor would know immediately because of the increased reading of antibodies in the blood tests done earlier in the pregnancy. But because of the donor's blood group, rhesus disease was the one thing this doctor wasn't looking for. For him the signs of pre-eclampsia were just that.'

Boy, I wouldn't like to have been in his shoes when he discovered his mistake. Maybe Belmont didn't need to pay him off. Maybe he offered his silence as an alternative to a malpractice suit. Saturday 18th. It must have been one hell of a day. Confrontation versus flight. No contest. But if Daniel followed her, was it really in order to bring her back? Hugh was talking, but I was already standing by the riverbed listening for footsteps behind me. ‘What?'

‘I asked when she died?'

‘Er…later that day. Some time between six and eight thirty.'

‘And when was she found?'

‘Two days later. The body got caught in some weeds.'

‘Hmmn. That may explain why the post mortem didn't show it up. Of course I'm not a pathologist, but depending on the stage of rhesus disease the foetus would probably have been rather swollen. On the other hand a body in the water for two days…'

Rather swollen. I sort of didn't want to think about that. Except I had to. ‘Do you think the baby was already dead?' And I was surprised to hear the break in my voice. Maybe here it was, after all this time, the real reason for suicide.

‘I very much doubt it. And for her to be sure it would have had to stop moving a while ago. In which case that
would
have shown up on the PM. No, not dead, but it would have been in trouble. By thirty-six weeks the antibodies would have been crossing through the placenta and attacking the blood supply for some time. The baby would have been becoming progressively more anaemic. It might even have stopped moving. In order to cope it would be frantically pumping what little blood it had left around the system. Eventually the effort of pumping would have caused the heart failure. Technically that's what would kill it.'

He stopped. I couldn't think of anything to say. Next to me the sound of Benjamin's short, loud breathing filled the room. ‘Are you all right, Hannah?'

‘Mmn…Yeah, I'm fine. Listen, er…thanks a million. I mean I really appreciate…'

‘It's OK. You sure you're all right?'

‘Of course. This is my job.'

‘Yes, well it's mine too, but it doesn't stop it being a bitch sometimes.'

‘Yeah.' A memory suddenly washed like driftwood into my mind. Him and me outside a cinema, his arm around me as I sobbed into his shoulder. Even he wasn't completely dry eyed. I couldn't even remember the film any more, but I was glad that the years hadn't thickened both our skins that much.

‘Well, Hannah, if there's nothing more I can do…You know you can call me if you need more help.'

‘Sure.'

‘Do I assume you'd like me to put this report in the shredding machine?'

‘Please.'

‘Fair enough. And listen, take care of yourself, all right? Maybe we could get together for a drink some time? Talk about something other than work.'

‘Yeah, some time.' What is it people say about never going back? ‘I'll call you,' I said, but it wasn't him I was thinking about.

I didn't have time to dwell on it. The front door opened with a bang. I was up and on the balls of my feet heading for the doorway when I heard Colin's voice in the hall. I caught up with it at the bottom of the stairs.

‘God almighty, Hannah, don't you think it's about time you developed more of a sense of responsibility? I just hope for your sake he's all right.' But he didn't wait for an answer, just thundered up the stairs two at a time.

‘Who?' I called up after him, just because I knew it would enrage him further. So Kate had told him about work. I would have thought she had more brains. I heard her come in behind me. The door slammed a second time. When I turned it was hard to tell which one of them was the most furious. She saw me and shook her head, at a temporary loss for words.

‘It's all right,' I said. ‘I know. You mentioned I was in trouble and he freaked out about the baby.'

She used some words I hadn't heard from her for a long time. From upstairs Benjamin let out a wail. ‘Well, if he's crying at least he's not dead,' she yelled up the stairs. ‘And since you've woken him, you can bloody well get him back to sleep.' She flung off her coat and stood at the bottom of the stairs. It was a while since I had seen the maternal caring Kate so blazing mad. ‘I swear sometimes he can be such a stupid old woman. We're sitting in the cinema waiting for the film to begin and I just mentioned it, that's all, and he blows his top. What does he think? I'm really going to leave Benjamin with you if I believed there was any chance of trouble?'

‘Listen, don't worry about it. He'll be so ashamed he overreacted that he'll have to be nice to me for weeks. It could be the beginning of a whole new relationship. As it happens it's perfect timing. I have to go anyway.'

‘Now, don't you start—'

‘Not just because of this, I promise. I've had a phone call. There's someone I have to see.'

She sighed, as if it were all too much for her. ‘So when will you be back?'

‘Don't worry. I'll stay somewhere else tonight.'

‘No you will not. I'm not letting him getting away with driving you out. He'll use it as an excuse for being right. It'll take us a couple of hours to get Benjamin back down and finish the row. We'll probably still be up when you get back.'