In Her Mothers' Shoes (29 page)

Bea, who always spurned the baking and floral competitions, had completed her circuit of the tent while waiting for Rose and was standing outside the door. ‘I saw that,’ she said, grabbing Rose by the arm and leading her round the corner, laughing. ‘The old biddy has taken over the whole section with her ghastly construction. I’m amazed you didn’t laugh as soon as you saw it.’

‘You never know, it might win. She won last year. And it’s very striking.’

‘It’s so striking it jumps out and hits you right between the eyes.’ Bea touched Rose lightly on the arm. ‘You might be in with a chance, Rose. Yours is so pretty. What is it?’

‘It’s supposed to represent a mother and child,’ Rose said softly, hoping Bea wouldn’t hear.

‘Mother and baby girl, by the look of it. There’s so many pink roses, it’s got to be a baby girl.’ Bea looked more closely at her friend. ‘Is there something you’re trying to tell us all? Are you. . .?’

Rose couldn’t help herself. She blushed.

‘You’re having a baby!’

‘You have to promise you won’t tell anyone, Bea. It’s absolutely a secret.’

‘A secret! This is the best news, the news you’ve been waiting for and you’re not telling anyone?’

‘I can’t, Bea. I can’t. It’s not my baby.’

‘Not your baby?’

‘Shhh!’ Rose held her hand up to Bea’s lips.

‘Then whose baby is it?’

‘I don’t know.’ Rose had dreaded this moment, had hoped she could avoid it but, in her most lucid moments, had known she couldn’t keep it from her best friend.

‘You don’t know? I don’t understand.’

Rose looked around to make sure there wasn’t anyone within earshot. ‘George and I have been told there’s a baby for us to adopt. We’re expecting to have her – or him – in March.’

‘In March? That’s just a couple of months away! Rose, this is so wonderful.’

She could feel herself breathing again. ‘You don’t think there’s anything wrong with that?’

‘Why would there be anything wrong with it?’

‘I don’t know. I thought people here would think it was a terrible thing to do, take someone else’s baby. Because no one else has ever done that here. I’d be the first. They’d think I was a baby thief.’

‘Nonsense, Rose. That’s absolute nonsense. Didn’t you know the Smythes adopted Harry? They’ve done it. And I bet they’re not the only ones around here. You won’t be the first.’

‘Mary Smythe adopted a baby? I don’t believe it.’ Rose felt ashamed of herself. All these years she’d regarded Mary Smythe as a bit of a joke.

‘She did. Sally said she arrived home one day with a baby, nobody had a clue. She paraded him through town as if he were her own – and pretty soon that’s how everyone took it. As if he
were
her own. And now look at him – a great strapping lad of seventeen off at university in Auckland.’

‘You’d never know he was adopted. He looks like Mr Smythe.’

‘In some ways. But when you look again, there are lots of differences. The thing is, though, nobody really cares. He’s theirs. And your baby will be yours. Yours and George’s. Nobody will care, Rose. Really.’

‘You think so? I’ve been so worried. I didn’t want anyone to know.’

‘So what were you planning to do when you brought the baby home? Keep it locked away inside for the next few years?’

‘I don’t know.’ Rose looked away in the distance, beyond the show grounds and all the people milling to and fro, beyond the show ring and the parading horses. What
was
she planning to do? She and George hadn’t been able to agree.

Just that morning, they’d had a row. Rose wanted to keep the adoption a secret. She was terrified of telling anyone, terrified of what people might say. She’d seen the rumour mill at work in this town and she’d put so much effort into being just like every other woman to avoid being subjected to it. She didn’t want that to change.

George wanted to tell everybody.

‘I don’t see what the problem is, dear,’ he’d reasoned with her as he was leaving for work. ‘People will be so pleased to see us starting a family at last they won’t care a jot that you didn’t give birth to the baby.’

‘But they will. You know how they can talk here.’

‘Rose!’ George had stood with his arms folded, his face red, his lips pursed in anger.

She knew better than to argue. George didn’t get angry very often.

He’d said she’d have to tell people sooner or later and had gone off to work without kissing her goodbye. He’d never done that before.

‘Well then,’ Bea said. ‘You should start thinking about how you’re going to do it, because there are a lot of people to tell.’

‘I don’t know. . .’

‘I know. I’ll throw a baby shower. That’s what we’ll do. A baby shower at my place next month and then everybody will know. And everybody who comes will have to bring a present for the baby.’

‘Oh, Bea, I couldn’t.’

‘You don’t have to do a thing except turn up. And you can’t say no to me. I’m your best friend.’

‘But what if we never get the baby? What if the Social Security Department changes its mind?’

‘Have you ever heard of a government department changing its mind?’ Bea countered. ‘They don’t have a mind to start with. They just follow the rules.’

Bea wouldn’t hear any further objections. She insisted on planning the party. She would hand-write all the invitations with clever wording that made it clear Rose’s baby was being adopted.

‘That way, there won’t be any silly questions about why you don’t look pregnant,’ she said firmly.

~   ~  ~

Rose won first prize for her floral arrangement, with Mrs Smythe’s creation coming in only third.

‘Well done, Rose.’ Bea congratulated her then whispered, ‘I’d stay away from Scary Mary for a while. She’ll never forgive you.’

‘Oh dear, I hope it doesn’t spoil George’s chances at the bank.’ It dawned on her, as soon as she’d said it, that George wouldn’t worry about his prospects for a moment. His lack of ambition was incomprehensible.

‘Oh, excuse me.’

Rose looked around and realised she had bumped into Mary Smythe.

‘Oh, no, I’m so sorry,’ she said, blushing. Bea had grabbed her arm, too late to prevent the collision, and was now nudging her energetically.

‘Well done, my dear,’ Mary said. ‘Your floral arrangement won high praise.’

‘Oh, thank you,’ Rose stammered. ‘Yours was lovely too.’

‘Well, we can’t all win on the day,’

Rose fended off Bea and took a deep breath. ‘Mary, I wondered if you and I might … er …if we could meet for a cup of tea at Paton’s. Or if you would like to visit my house one afternoon for tea. There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.’

There was a moment when Mary Smythe looked taken aback, as if this was the last thing she was expecting, but just a moment before she smiled graciously. ‘Of course, Rose. I’d be happy to have afternoon tea with you. Would next Tuesday suit?’

‘Yes, it does. That would be lovely. Please come to our place.’

They parted and Bea said, ‘What came over you Rose? I didn’t know she was your friend.’

‘I’ve seen her in a different light …’

‘You mean about the adoption?’

‘Yes. Now I know about that, I think there’s a lot she could help me with.’

Bea chuckled softly. ‘I hope you’re right. Or you could be in for a very awkward afternoon next Tuesday.’

Apart from her nursing friend Joan in Christchurch, who wasn’t the greatest correspondent – her letters were always short and hurried – Rose hadn’t anyone to confide in about adoption. She had a lot of questions she needed to ask.

~   ~  ~

The afternoon with Mary Smythe flew by as Rose confided her news about the baby. ‘But I don’t know what to say to people,’ she concluded.

Mary smiled sympathetically. ‘I decided right from the start to carry on as if it was nobody’s business but my own,’ she said. ‘You should try to see it that way. If you always worry about what people think, you’ll never go anywhere or do anything different.’

‘But look what happened when I went home to Christchurch to look after my mother last year,’ Rose said.

‘What was that?’

‘Some people here said I’d left George.’ Rose put down her cup and dabbed at her face with her handkerchief to hide her embarrassment. ‘It was awful. I couldn’t look anyone in the eye for over a week.’

‘People will talk, I know. But you must pay no heed. You know how it goes: “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me”.’

‘The trouble is I should really go back to Mother. She’s not well.’

‘Is she elderly?’

‘Yes, she’s seventy. I worry about her, but I can’t leave George again. Even if people didn’t gossip, it wouldn’t be right.’

‘I wouldn’t worry about it. You should tell the world you’re having a baby and let the tongues wag.’

‘But …’

‘Besides, they’ve already come to terms with me adopting. One more and they’ll begin to think it’s the latest fashion.’ Mary laughed at her own joke.

‘It’s such a big step to take.’

‘You’ve got to tell them sooner or later. The worst source of ill-informed gossip is when you try to hide something. Get it all out in the open, I always say.’

~   ~  ~

Rose never found out the truth of it, but it looked very much as if Mary might have pulled some strings because, not long after that afternoon tea, in fact the same day Rose and Bea had written out the invitations to the baby shower, George came home from the bank with news: he’d been transferred down to Christchurch.

‘You can be near to your mother. You won’t have to worry how she and Jim are getting on,’ he said.

‘But what about the baby?’ Rose was conflicted.

‘It shouldn’t matter what town we’re living in. We should be all right.’

‘It will probably mean another home inspection,’ Rose said. It might be a terrible risk they were taking. The Department had granted her dearest wish, and now she was jeopardising it by moving to another town. What if the Department said no? ‘I’ll write to them first thing in the morning.’