The Other Side of Sorrow Read Free Page A

you’d ever have entertained the idea of having kids. Tell me I’m wrong.’
    I had to admit she was right. The only really serious relationships I’d had since Cyn were with Helen Broadway and Glen Withers. Helen had a child and a troubled marriage and in the end she’d opted for the status quo. Glen was a career woman all the way. I’d felt comfortable with arrangements like those.
    â€˜You’re right,’ I said. ‘Maybe you heard from your dad about Hilde Stoner. The tenant I had for a while. She married Frank Parker, who’s—’
    â€˜A policeman. Yes, I heard. So?’
    â€˜I’m a sort of pagan godfather to their son. That’s as close as I thought I’d ever get to parenthood.’
    â€˜Ah, you’re admitting the possibility that you’ve fathered a child. Christ, you’re a hard sell, Cliff.’
    â€˜In my business you have to be. Look, Cyn, what d’you think’s going on here?’
    â€˜That’s typical of you. Analysis rather than engagement.’
    â€˜That’s me.’
    â€˜All right. I think she applied for her birth certificate. Adoptees can do that since the act was changed in 1990. Did you read that book by Charmian Clift’s illegitimate daughter?’
    â€˜No. I read
My Brother Jack
though—her husband’s best book. Sorry, Cyn. Go on.’
    â€˜I think she applied for her original birth certificate and got my name from it.’ She looked directly at me. ‘Don’t worry. There was no name for the father. I didn’t have to give it.’
    I think it was at that moment that I started to believe all this might be true.
    Cyn went on to say that she asked the appropriate authorities whether her child had applied for her birth certificate or made enquiries about her, but the rules didn’t allow for that information to be given out.
    â€˜That’s right,’ I said. ‘I’ve done a little bit in this line. The idea is to protect the adoptee—in case the parent’s a drunk or a bludger. If you’re right about this, Cyn, why wouldn’t she make herself known to you? You’re obviously affluent and respectable. You live in a big house and drive a flash car. You’ve got a tennis court, I’m told, and isn’t there a boat or two?’
    â€˜Stop it, Cliff. Don’t be such a shit. If she—Jesus, I don’t even know her name—if she got onto me in the last few months she’d have seen a woman wasting away. I spend most of my time going to doctors. I don’t drive anymore; I don’t have the strength. I sold the house and the boat after Colin died and put most of the money in trust for the kids. I live in a unit in Crows Nest. It’s nice but nothing special. The thing is, if she’s been keeping an eye on me in that time she’s probably seen me faint twice in public and once …’
    She shook her head, took a deep breath and forced the words out. ‘She might have seen me throw up in the gutter.’
    The tears came again and I watched helplessly while she dabbed at her eyes. She seemed to have to gather every ounce of her strength to do just that much. I had the feeling that she was just about all through for the day at a bit past noon. It made me forget all the animosities and injuries of the past and want to do anything I could to help her. Or almost anything. Despite the anger and anguish I felt on her behalf, I was still focused on the main game—the possibility that we’d had a child.
    Perhaps Cyn was right in thinking selfishness had kept me childless. I preferred to believe it was something else—a recognition that my failure to sustain relationships and my erratic, hazardous, financially chancy lifestyle made me a poor bet as a father. More than once I’d pulled back from involvement with women who seemed primed for motherhood, not wanting to disappoint them. But I’d also worn