Hidden by Marianne Curley Read Free Book Online Page A

good-looking with an unusual accent.’
    ‘He claimed he lived just outside the valley, in a cottage by the Windhaven River. He said he travelled a lot and was hardly ever home.’
    Mum says, ‘He came to our house the night of the day we buried Ben, the day after he was born. We were still in shock.’
    Dad jumps in. ‘It had poured with rain all day, but Zavier didn’t have a drop of water on him, not even a speck of mud on his shoes.’
    Mum flicks a sharp look at Dad. ‘You’re scaring her.’
    Dad leans forward and touches my knee. ‘Are you sure you want to hear this?’
    ‘Yes. As long as it’s the truth, I want to hear it. I
have
to.’
    Dad explains, ‘Zavier carried a cane basket in his hand.’
    ‘A Moses basket,’ Mum throws in. ‘It had a baby in it.’
    ‘The infant was wrapped in a black blanket,’ Dad continues, ‘which I thought was somewhat odd.’
    ‘Oh, that’s the part you think is odd?’
    They both give me an exasperated look. I tell Dad to keep going.
    ‘He didn’t show you to us at first, but you kept making little gurgling sounds and we knew a real baby was in our house.’
    ‘It was an amazing feeling,’ Mum interjects.
    ‘Zavier explained that his work kept him away from home too much to take care of a baby.’
    Mum takes up the story again. ‘His sister had recently come to live with him after the situation at her home became difficult.’
    I sit quietly riveted to the story of a young pregnant girl, rejected by her parents, who gave birth in her brother’s house, dying later that night from an unexpected haemorrhage.
    Mum touches my arm. ‘You were three days old when he brought you to us.’
    I gasp, my mouth falling open. ‘So my birth date is incorrect.’
    Dad says, ‘By two days, but we had no choice. He insisted that was the birth date we give you.’
    Questions hammer away at my brain. Didn’t this man Zavier have other family he could turn to for help, like a grandmother, an aunt or someone? Why did he give his sister’s baby to complete strangers to raise? Where was the baby’s father in all of this?
    Mum explains, ‘You have to understand, darling, this man was … intimidating.’
    I shake my head, unable to imagine my parents, especially my mother, who is strong and even outspoken at times,being too scared to ask such fundamental questions as what happened to the father.
    ‘Did you even ask about the father? Weren’t you worried he might turn up one day to claim custody?’
    Dad answers, ‘Zavier assured us his sister had had no further contact with the father, who was only seventeen at the time. So you see, sweetheart, your biological …
that man
… doesn’t know you exist.’
    Their story keeps growing stranger. I brace myself as Dad continues, ‘Zavier said he heard of our loss and it occurred to him that, if we were willing, we could come to an arrangement for his newborn niece.’
    ‘He was quick to point out there were conditions,’ adds Mum, ‘and that we would have to sign a contract for the adoption.’
    ‘What conditions?’ My voice suddenly sounds tinny. I could do with a glass of water but don’t want to leave the room in case they stop talking.
    ‘He said that we must keep the name your mother had given you.’
    ‘
Ebony
,’ I whisper.
    ‘And that you must never see a doctor, but since you’re always so healthy that hasn’t been an issue. Anyway, darling,’ she says a little too casually, ‘they were more like incentives than conditions. And there was no way we could say no once we’d seen you.’ She lifts her gaze over my head and a dreamy look enters her eyes.
    Dad goes on to explain what Mum doesn’t. ‘Zavier promised that as long as we raised you as our own flesh and blood we would prosper. And so that we wouldn’t standout in the community, consistent rain, profitable crops and good fortune would befall everyone in the valley.’
    Who has the power to promise something like that?
    I stare at them with