Roxy's Baby (11 page)

She began to walk, warily, stepping as quietly as she could. She opened a door into one of the rooms, but once again there were only shuttered windows and rotting draperies. No one had been inside this part of the house for years. Yet the part the girls lived in was bright and newly painted. It reminded her of something. She had to think for a moment of what that something was. Then it hit her. It was as if the front of the house, where the girls lived, was the stage in a theatre. Brightly lit, furnished, with actors playing their parts. Here was the back of the theatre, dull, unused and dusty. And it was cold. Though the sun scorched the earth outside it was as if Nature had turned off her heating in these rooms.

There was a mystery here, there had to be. ‘Aren't you the one with the imagination,' Anne Marie would say. But there was a mystery here. Why was one part of the house so bright, taken care of, and another, this
part, just left to fall apart? She could hear Anne Marie's glib answer to that. ‘It's expensive enough for them to heat and run this part, you can't expect them to open the whole house up just for us.'

But this was their house – the Dyces had said so. And this part wasn't just closed up, with white sheets covering furniture, as if it was waiting for someone to claim it again. This part of the house had been long forgotten. It looked as if it should be condemned.

Condemned. She didn't like the sound of that.

Here too, carved into doors, on fireplaces, even on the ancient wallpaper, dragons were everywhere. This was indeed Dragon House.

Roxy climbed another flight of stairs and found herself on the attic floor. Here she found a warren of small rooms, musty and empty, except for rubbish stacked against walls or on the floor. There were more broken chairs, moth-eaten carpets, old curtains. One room had obviously once been a nursery. She found a library too. One room still stacked high with books. Roxy lifted one from a shelf and opened it. Dust exploded from it, the pages almost fell apart. She dropped it to the floor and sent dust leaping all around the dark room. Roxy began to sneeze, tried to stop herself and couldn't. She held
her shirt against her nose and looked around. In the middle of the library there was a spiral staircase leading to a landing above. Once, long ago, this must have been a favourite spot for relaxing. A place to come with a book, climb the staircase, sit by the top window and look out at the view.

The view. She saw that through the one small window on that landing a strip of light was shining through the shutters. What might she see from there?

The spiral staircase was rickety and shook with every step she took, but it was worth the journey. From the landing window she could see below her a pathway that led from the Dyces' apartments, from that room marked PRIVATE; a pathway which led to the delivery room, a square, brick building separate from the main house. She could see the exit door from here too. The door Mrs Dyce had told her about. The door through which everyone must leave, here, at the back of the house, secluded and sealed off. No wonder no one was ever seen leaving. Roxy sat there for a long time. Now she knew how the girls and their babies left Dragon House. They went through the Dyces' apartments, down the path and into the delivery room, and then one by one, they all left, silently, secretly, from here.

She didn't know how long she sat there, thinking and watching. But when she finally checked her watch she knew she had to hurry. She didn't want anyone to know she had found this secret place. She would tell Anne Marie, but only her, and swear her to secrecy.

Roxy was covered in dust and cobwebs when she came down towards the bottom corridor again. She stopped to dust herself down before going back through the door under the stairs, when she heard voices coming through the wall. She realised she was listening to the Dyces in their private office. There was no way she wasn't going to listen to this. She had to strain her ears to hear them, only catching snatches of what they were saying.

‘More girls,' Mr Dyce was saying. ‘Is that wise?'

And his wife's answer. ‘More girls,' and her voice was so husky Roxy only just caught her last words, ‘economically viable'.

‘Economically viable'? What did that mean?

Two new girls arrived next day. (The ‘more girls' Mr Dyce had been referring to, Roxy wondered?) Both of them foreign. One was Asian and rejected any attempt at friendliness. But the other was a wary, silent black
girl, Aneeka. She was an illegal immigrant. They all knew that without asking. She trusted no one and ate in a corner by herself.

Anne Marie was the one who tried to be friendly, squeezing up beside her, miming conversation because Aneeka spoke no English. It was no use. She turned away, her dark eyes wide with fear, afraid to trust anyone.

‘I don't understand how they found her,' Roxy said to Anne Marie. ‘She can't speak any English, so she couldn't have told anyone she needed help.' Yet she had found her way to the Dyces.

Anne Marie had a ready answer. ‘They have contacts everywhere. Word of mouth.' She stared at Roxy long and hard. ‘Don't tell me you're still suspicious?'

She knew that Roxy was. Roxy had told the older girl about her expedition, making her promise to keep the secret. Anne Marie had warned her that it could have been dangerous, she could have been trapped there and no one would have known where she was. Sensible stuff. Even when Roxy had told her about the Dyces' conversation she had another ready answer. ‘“Economically viable.” Well, if they brought more girls they might feel they would have to open more of the house, and it
would take too much money to decorate it and make it liveable in. They probably mean that using the whole house
wouldn't
be economically viable. It would be too expensive to run. You didn't hear all they were saying, Roxy.'

So Roxy shrugged her shoulders and decided not to make too much of it. But new girls, foreign girls, how could they be more ‘economically viable'? Unless, the more babies they sell, the more money they made. Because they
were
selling the babies, no matter what Mrs Dyce said, no matter what Anne Marie believed. That was the answer for Roxy and she didn't like it.

Aneeka wasn't with them for long.

One hot night, two days after Aneeka had arrived, Roxy was awakened by her sobbing. It was hard to sleep it was so hot, and the windows and doors were all opened wide to let in some air, and when she got up out of bed there was Aneeka, crouched in the corridor, her arms wrapped round her legs, her face buried in her knees.

‘Aneeka OK?' Roxy knelt beside her with difficulty. She held up her thumb in an international gesture. Aneeka only looked at her and her eyes flashed with fear.

‘It's me … Roxy' she said softly, smiling. Aneeka's face was streaked with tears. She didn't smile back, she just stared. Roxy kept smiling, not knowing what else to do. Feeling like an idiot.

Suddenly, Aneeka bared her teeth like a wild animal and she started shouting. She gave Roxy such a fright she fell backwards. At that, Aneeka leaned over her, grabbed her by the shoulders and started shaking her. Now, Roxy was terrified.

‘Anne Marie!' she shouted.

By now, Aneeka was almost hysterical. She wouldn't let Roxy go. She was crying and yelling and all at once the corridor was filled with girls waddling from their rooms, pulling on dressing gowns. They all started shouting.

‘Doesn't anyone speak her language?' Roxy yelled. ‘What's she saying?'

Anne Marie tried to put her arm around Aneeka, but she threw it off angrily. And then she said the only English words Roxy had ever heard her speak, and they frightened the life out of her.

‘Kill baby!' And she jabbed at her stomach. ‘Kill baby!'

She bent over Roxy, and grabbed her face in her hands. ‘Kill baby! Kill baby!' Over and over again she
said it, and she was still saying it when Mrs Dyce appeared, running towards them. She was shouting Aneeka's name, trying to drown out her words.

She dropped down beside them and hugged Aneeka close. Aneeka seemed even more terrified. She tried to push her away, so violently that she almost sent her sprawling on the ground. But Mrs Dyce still gripped her firmly and lifted her to her feet. ‘Come with me, Aneeka. Come, my dear.'

Aneeka was shaking her head, trying not to go. She held on to Roxy's robe and looked into her eyes. Hers were filled with panic and fear. It was as if she wanted Roxy to help her. Something in Roxy wanted to run after her, wanted desperately to keep her here with the rest of the girls.

Finally, she couldn't stop herself. ‘She said, “kill baby”, Mrs Dyce!' She shouted it up the corridor and there was a hushed silence from everyone. Except Mrs Dyce. She didn't even lose a step, or look back. She waved a hand behind her to quieten her.

‘I'll come back later and speak to you, Roxy.' That was all she said, and then she was gone, closing the door marked PRIVATE on a sobbing, terrified Aneeka.

One by one the girls all started drifting back to their
rooms as if nothing had happened.

Roxy couldn't believe it. ‘Am I the only one who's worried about that? She said … “kill baby”.'

Anne Marie put her arms round her. ‘She probably wants rid of it,' she said coldly. ‘And she hasn't got enough English to ask politely, “Could I have a termination, please?”' She said it in a very posh accent and Roxy knew she was trying to make her feel better, but it had the opposite effect. It made her angry at her friend. She didn't think there was anything funny about what had happened. She looked at Anne Marie.

‘Is that what you think?'

‘Frankly, yes I do,' she said. ‘But we'll ask Mrs Dyce later.'

‘“We'll ask Mrs Dyce later”,' Roxy mimicked Anne Marie's Irish brogue. ‘And whatever Mrs Dyce tells us, we'll believe.'

‘You,' Anne Marie pinched at her cheeks, ‘are a little revolutionary! Do you know that?'

How could Roxy explain to anyone, even to herself, that every time she put her suspicions behind her, a new one popped up, like weeds in a garden.

* * *

She couldn't sleep all that night, thinking about Aneeka, wondering what was happening to her and her baby. Mrs Dyce spoke to Anne Marie and her at breakfast. She came into the kitchen and told them very gravely, ‘I'm sorry about last night, girls. That must have been very upsetting for you all. I think Mr Dyce and I made a grave error of judgement in bringing Aneeka here. She was very disturbed. But we wanted to help her so much.' She paused for a moment, as if it was too hard for her to carry on. ‘She didn't want this baby. I'm sure you realised that already. It brought great shame on her family. She would never have been able to go home with a baby.'

‘So how is she now?' Anne Marie asked softly.

‘She's had her wish, I'm afraid. She lost the baby.'

Anne Marie gasped.

‘We did everything we could to save her,' Mrs Dyce continued. ‘But it was no use.'

‘So where is Aneeka now?' There was no softness in Roxy's voice.

‘We've sent her on to the next house.'

‘Not to hospital? Shouldn't she be in a hospital?'

‘Mrs Dyce is a nurse, Roxy. She knows what she's doing.'

For the first time Roxy lost her temper with Anne Marie.

‘Honestly, Anne Marie, do you just believe everything?! Aneeka's terrified. She's screaming, “Kill baby!” and now, very conveniently, her baby is dead. OK, I'm willing to believe that, but if she lost the baby, then she must need special treatment. Surely the delivery room here isn't equipped for every emergency.'

Mrs Dyce was annoyed now, tightlipped, but still with a ready answer.

‘If anything went badly wrong, Roxy, I can assure you we would have no hesitation in sending both mother and baby to hospital. Do you honestly think, after all we've done for you, that we would risk any of your lives?'

She sounded annoyed again. Even though her voice remained as ever, soft. Maybe she had a reason to be annoyed, Roxy thought.

‘Anyway, I have had a very difficult night. I just wanted to let you know about Aneeka. And to apologise.'

Anne Marie was quick to assure her that there was no need for that apology. But not Roxy, and she could see that Mrs Dyce was perfectly aware of that. Roxy felt
sick, as if a lump of lead lay inside her along with her baby.

After her chores were done Roxy went back to bed. She couldn't stop thinking about Aneeka. How frightened she'd been last night. And now they'd never see her again. Like the other girls, she had passed through the doors leading to the delivery room, and disappeared. They could have been zapped up by aliens, or been transported into another dimension. The thought scared her.

Anne Marie came in and sat on the bed beside her. ‘I wish you'd stop your worrying.' She stroked Roxy's brow with her soft hands.

‘I don't want to go into that delivery room alone, Anne Marie,' Roxy said. For it seemed to Roxy that when you went in there you were never seen again.

‘Neither do I,' Anne Marie said.

Roxy knew then what they had to do, and it brightened her up right away. ‘Me and you will be birth partners. We'll help each other through it, OK?'

Roxy's cousin had had a baby and her birth partner had been her sister. She remembered that now. Remembered how close it had brought the two sisters, sisters who had always argued constantly.

‘Birth partners?' Anne Marie smiled. ‘Well, isn't that a grand idea.'

Birth partners.

Now, neither Anne Marie nor Roxy would be alone in the delivery room.

If there had ever been a hotter summer Roxy couldn't remember it. Anne Marie became so heavy she could hardly bear to move in the heat. Roxy did most of her chores for her, though she had to admit that Mrs Dyce made sure Anne Marie hadn't much to do anyway, fussing round her like a mother hen.