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Chapter 24
Had two or three dayspassed? Meg was hazy about everything except the pain in her chest. Each beat of her heart was like a fist squeezing hard, accusing her of not being here when Jennifer needed her. Of not being a mother to her daughter. The single most important job in her life was caring for her child, and she hadn’t been here.
How could she not remember how many days it had been since learning her darling girl had been stolen from her?
She pressed her knuckled fist against her temple and shook her head. ‘I can’t remember what day of the week it was, Sergeant, but it was the day I arrived home from Townsville.’
The police officer wrote in his small, black notebook then asked Gerry, ‘Did you accompany Miss Dorset to the orphanage?’
‘I went with Lieutenant Dorset to pick up her daughter. Jennifer’s father was killed in the war, and we—I am her only family in Brisbane.’ Dark shadows lay beneath Gerry’s eyes, but in the midst of her grief over Vera, she was the stronger of the two of them right now.
‘And what relation are you to Miss—Lieutenant Dorset?’ Distantly, Meg noticed the slight pause before he used her RAAF rank, as though it pained him to do so.
Accustomed to the chain of command, and the respect given to nurses by most members of the forces, the sergeant’s disdain stood out, stark and accusatory. Did he think like the nuns—that she didn’t deserve her child because she was unmarried, or was it because she’d passed off her maternal responsibility to go off nursing? ‘We aren’t blood relations, Sergeant, but we have been as close as family—closer, perhaps, throughout the war.’
‘I see. And the woman who was caring for your child—’
Gerry chimed in with, ‘My aunt, Mrs Vera Burnett.’
‘She was no relation either?’
Sensing where the policeman’s questions were leading, anger stirred in Meg, nudging aside the fog of her grief. ‘No. She looked after my daughter while I was serving. I was working up north in hospitals and with a medical air evacuation team.’
‘My aunt cared for Meg’s daughter while Meg was doing her job, Sergeant—saving soldiers’ lives.’
The sergeant closed his notebook and tucked both it and his pencil into his pocket. ‘From what you’ve told me, this isn’t a police matter. The police cannot force nuns to release information about adoptions. You’ll need a solicitor. I’m sorry, Miss—Lieutenant Dorset, but there’s nothing I can do for you. Good day, ladies. I’ll see myself out.’
Stunned at the abrupt dismissal of her case, Meg watched him retreat down the hallway. The screen door banged shut before she closed her mouth. She looked at Gerry who sat as stunned as Meg. The kitchen clock ticked loudly – ticking away the seconds and minutes of her life without her daughter.
‘This is completely wrong.’ Gerry pushed her chair back and reached for the kettle. Shoving it under the tap, she turned the water on hard. ‘Jennifer’s been taken without your consent. It’s like she’s been abducted, and he’s doing nothing. What does he think the police are for if not to help?’
‘I’d report him if I thought it would do any good.’ Meg thumped both hands on the table and shoved her chair back. The scrape of wood on lino raised goosebumps on her arms. ‘Damn and blast it. If I were a man, this wouldn’t have happened.’
‘If you were a man, I wouldn’t be here.’
Meg turned at the sound of Geoffrey’s voice. He stood in the hallway, cap in hand, an uncertain half-smile disappearing as their gazes met.
‘I passed a policeman as I came through the gate and let myself in when no one answered my knock. What’s the matter? Can I help?’
Something stirred in Meg at the sight of him standing there, so calm and practical. Calm—that was what she needed right now. Holding out both hands she stepped towards him. He took them, and his touch anchored her. She pushed the words out. ‘The nuns took Jennifer. An ambulance came for Vera. She died and the nuns took my daughter. They’ve given her away. Geoffrey, they took Jennifer.’
Vera’s kitchen had always been the heart of her home. Cups of tea and biscuits at the table, chats while she cooked dinner and Meg fed Jennifer – memories of love and friendship filled this room.
Geoffrey looked at home sitting in a chair at Vera’s table as he listened to Meg. She shared her fruitless efforts to find her daughter, and when she finished, he spoke for the first time since she’d begun.
‘I think the policeman was right. You’ll need legal representation to crack the code of silence around adoptions. I’m fairly sure they’re covered by State law. If it would help, I have an old school friend who works as a solicitor for a big firm in the city. He was injured in a car accident some years ago so couldn’t serve, but he became a junior partner in his firm. Shall I phone him and make an appointment?’ Geoffrey still held her hand, she realised with surprise. The simple connection was comforting.
‘Yes please. Can we see him today?’
‘I’ll see what I can do. It may depend on whether he’s in court or not, but I’ll ask. Geraldine, may I use your phone?’
‘Of course. It’s on the hall stand.’
‘Thanks.’ Geoffrey walked down the hallway and a few moments later, they heard him giving the operator a number in the city.
Gerry took the kettle off the stove and poured boiling water into the teapot. She put the lid back on and sat down, leaving the tea to brew. ‘I don’t know about you, but seeing Geoffrey makes me feel better. He’s always so unflappable.’
Meg agreed. ‘But none of this is his responsibility. It’s mine, and the situation only happened because I was determined to keep working.’
