Andrea's Secret

By John Kelly

In early 1974, a pregnant Andrea Steedman leaves
home to conceal the birth of her daughter Mary
Therese. A few months after she has given birth,
depressed and confused, she agrees to an adoption
under highly irregular circumstances.
Twenty two years later on her deathbed, Andrea
reveals the existence of her daughter to her wealthy brother Warwick, who promises to find Mary Therese.

• Language: English
• Publisher: John Kelly
• Release date: Jul 23, 2009
• ISBN: 9781452301723

John Kelly

John Kelly, who holds a graduate degree in European history, is the author and coauthor of ten books on science, medicine, and human behavior, including Three on the Edge, which Publishers Weekly called the work of "an expert storyteller." He lives in New York City.

Book preview

ANDREA’S

Secret

By the same author:

Satan’s Little Helper

Hiroshima Sunset

Saints and Relics

Andrea’s

Secret

John Kelly

Published by: John B Kelly

51 Roy Street, Donvale 3111 Victoria Australia

Email: [e-mail]

This book is a work of fiction. The characters and incidents portrayed are the product of the author’s imagination and are not real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons or real organisations similar in name and description, is purely coincidental.

First published in 2006

Copyright © 2006 by John B Kelly

Smashwords Edition 1.0

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner, without the written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations contained in critical articles or reviews.

The National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication data:

Kelly, John Bernard, 1945- .

Andrea's secret.

ISBN 0 646 45260 6.

A823.4

Cover design: ‘Woman in Pastel’ reproduced with the permission of the artist, Muriel Crabtree.

1.

1974

Push Andrea push. It’s coming. We’re nearly there. It’s nearly there, push, push! It was Nurse Jenny Mahoney’s first night in the labour ward and the excitement in her voice carried all the way down the corridor, reaching as far as the maternity reception desk. Two expectant fathers sat uncomfortably in the adjacent waiting room and looked at each other nervously, as the sound of Nurse Jenny Mahoney’s excited squeals reached them. Inside the labour ward, Doctor Melissa Andrews grinned behind her face-mask, happy that things were going well and that, if nothing else, Nurse Mahoney was providing an amusing distraction, allowing her to concentrate on a successful delivery. Andrea Steedman, the subject of both their concerns was exhausted and her level of enthusiasm was not the same, as she grabbed hold of the oxygen mask for yet another gasp.

I’m pushing, I’m pushing you stupid, stupid woman, she answered, her voice sharp, her eyes blazing with anxiety, and annoyed beyond comprehension at the perceived harassment.

Excellent, excellent, we are nearly there, Jenny said, ignoring what she knew to be the natural expression of apprehension, the natural response of a woman about to give birth.

You are doing wonderfully. This is so exciting. Aren’t you thrilled? You are almost finished, Jenny’s enthusiastic voice bellowed out again, aggravating Andrea beyond imagination. Would someone take this person outside and shoot her? Andrea cried out in desperation. Jenny burst out laughing. Oh, you don’t mean that, she chuckled. Doctor Andrews intervened. You are doing well Andrea, Doctor Andrews said, thinking it was time to bring an element of qualified encouragement into the fray. Another minute or two and it will all be over. Hearing the Doctor’s voice was a welcome relief for Andrea who had endured three hours of labour pains and was quite ready to die rather than endure another minute. Having also to put up with the overly enthusiastic ravings of a labour ward junior was not helping. Nothing had quite prepared her for what she was now experiencing. No self-help text book she had read over the past few months, quite matched the moment now at hand.

Okay Andrea, now give it your best push, Doctor Andrews said in a controlled, authoritative and reassuring tone. This will be it, I promise. Gritting her teeth and with one almighty, sustained effort to thrust down all the muscles of the pelvic region, Andrea did as she was asked, and, moments later, to her delight and unbelievable relief, discovered that the Doctor was right.

It was 1974, the International Year of Women and in Australia, Ruth Dobson was appointed Ambassador to Denmark. She was the first woman ever to be appointed Australian ambassador to anywhere. In the same year, Olivia Newton John won two Grammy awards, a Sister of Mercy recorded a vocal version of ‘The Lord’s Prayer,’ which sold more than two million copies. ABC television aired the landmark series ‘Rush’, and six school children and their teacher were kidnapped from their school at Farraday, in Victoria. People were earning more money, and spending freely, but rising world oil prices, sent inflation soaring into the teens. Unemployment rose sharply and suddenly optimism made way for insecurity. It was a year of great economic instability as a relatively new Labour Government, led by Gough Whitlam, seemed to threaten long standing conservative values. ‘Advance Australia fair’ replaced ‘God Save the Queen’ as the country’s national anthem. The French and Chinese were conducting nuclear tests and Saturday mail deliveries came to an end. And on December 7th, the Queensland State Government under the premiership of Joh Bjelke-Petersen, won a thumping victory at the State elections. Earlier that year, Brisbane experienced the worst floods in eighty-one years, when six hundred millimetres fell, inundating the city. In some areas, in the ensuing floods, homes were swept away, and people drowned. But of all the events around Australia in that year, socially and politically, probably the least noticed, occurred in early December, at Princess Alexandra Hospital, in Brisbane, when a twenty-three year old woman from Melbourne, Andrea Steedman, gave birth to a girl, whom she called Mary Therese.

It’s a girl, it’s a girl, Nurse Mahoney blurted out, unable to control her joy. How wonderful! Isn’t it wonderful? she went on. Andrea let go the oxygen mask, released her iron grip on Mahoney’s arm, dropped her head back onto the pillow and let out a deep long breath. Finally it was over. She had done it. Journey’s end!

Well done Andrea, Doctor Andrews said behind the mask. Suddenly a squeal echoed around the labour room walls, followed by a fully charged cry straight out of the lungs of a one minute old baby girl. Doctor Andrews handed the tiny frame over to Nurse Mahoney who ever so gently placed it into the arms of her mother.

Isn’t she beautiful, Mahoney gushed. Five minutes earlier, Andrea would quite happily have had this bubbly junior nurse lined up against a wall and vaporized. But that was five minutes ago. As she took her first look at the miracle that was this tiny bundle in her arms, all that animosity and anxiety faded away. We must let your husband know, Mahoney said without thinking. Is he outside? Andrea looked up at Mahoney with a forlorn vacant expression. There is no husband, she said. Oh, I’m sorry, of course, I wasn’t thinking. Is there someone we can call? Your mother or someone? Andrea looked down again upon her baby daughter, and tears welled up in her eyes. No, no mother either. Just Louise. Could you tell her? She’s outside in the waiting room.

Mahoney looked across to Doctor Andrews who looked back and nodded. As Mahoney left the ward, Andrea kissed her baby on the forehead and her thoughts focused on the journey thus far, on where she had come from, to get to this point, and on the immediate future. Unmarried and alone in a strange city, she had achieved what she had set out to do. She had delivered her baby safely into the world without having to reveal her pregnancy to her mother. She had avoided what she perceived to be the shame of having to tell her family, and left open the various options that she had considered during her confinement. Having skilfully engineered herself into this position, she now faced an agonizing choice. She could return to Melbourne and reveal to her family, the real reason she had come here. Or, she could place her daughter up for adoption, and return to the comfort and security of her home in Melbourne, as if nothing had happened.

Andrea was no stranger to the idea of adoption. It was her birth mother’s lustful folly to conceive her in a moment of unguarded passion, with an incredibly good looking and persuasive young man, who backed her up against the garden shed early one Sunday morning in the nineteen fifties. Her mother, she was told, chose to go to term with the resulting pregnancy and acknowledge that the baby was hers rather than succumb to the pressures of an image conscious family intent on disguising the baby’s unwed parentage. But inevitably, social pressures brought to bear, and her mother gave her up for adoption when Andrea was three months old.

It was Elsie and Arthur Steedman, who chose to adopt her back in 1952. At that time they were parents to seven year old Richard, an intellectually disabled child and to both five-year-old Warwick, and three-year-old Margaret. Richard had become too difficult to care for adequately and had just been placed into institutional care at Elm Tree Cottages. Elsie had been advised by her doctor that it might be wise not to have any more children. Emotionally tortured with the pain of giving Richard up, she turned to adoption. Throughout Andrea’s life that gave her cause for great joy. She had been chosen. The fact that her adoptive mother also had a habit of bringing home just about anything that strayed into her path from time to time did not bother her. It was not unusual for Elsie to bring home the odd cat or dog that needed a good meal; even a pet turtle that she later discovered had roamed from its rightful owner.

Andrea therefore had some experience when it came to adoption. Five years after she was adopted, and quite unplanned, Elsie gave birth to baby Robert. Then disaster struck. Robert was just two years old when his father Arthur, decided to go swimming in the river one warm Sunday morning. Arthur was seen by several people that morning as he swam up and down the river parallel to the bank and none noticed anything amiss. The coroner’s report stated he drowned after suffering a heart attack. Elsie was suddenly a widow with four children to support. It was a shock that sent a shudder into the heart of each child, but Elsie endured out of sheer necessity making whatever sacrifices were necessary to raise her children.

For Andrea, the guilt of finding herself pregnant and facing the ordeal of telling her adoptive mother, weighed heavily on her mind. She never told the father of her baby daughter that she was pregnant. She knew from the beginning, that she would be on her own. It was at a point only four months into her pregnancy, and realizing that she was in exactly the same position as her birth mother, that she decided not to reveal her condition to Elsie, or any other member of the Steedman household. Demonstrating admirable inner courage, she decided to absent herself from her family in Melbourne. Confiding in her closest friend and work boss, Terri Carney at Flyworld Travel, a solution to the problem was found. Terri secured for Andrea a transfer offer to Flyworld’s Brisbane office, classified as an internal lateral move, and the Brisbane office nominated one of their rising stars to take Andrea’s place in Melbourne.

They have free hospital care in Queensland, Terri told her. You will be able to have the baby at hardly any cost. What do you think? Are you interested? It didn’t take long for Andrea to decide to accept the offer, and a few days later, when the arrangement was finalized, Andrea broke the news to Elsie.

It will only be for eight or nine months, Andrea told her adoptive mother. They are experiencing unprecedented growth up there. They are literally run off their feet up there. They need an experienced person to step in. Our office here is half a person overstaffed anyway, and they’ll put on an apprentice to cover me, she fibbed.

Where will you stay? Elsie asked.

The company will subsidize fifty per cent of my accommodation. I might be able to share a flat or something. They will put me up in a motel for two weeks at no charge to begin with. Andrea replied. All of this was true. Terri Carney had called in a few favours, and pulled a few strings to help her friend.

I’ll miss you so much, Elsie said. Who will help me feed the cats and dogs, and the turtle? she asked, resigning herself to the inevitable. You should have returned the turtle years ago. You know where it came from. Serves you right, Andrea said with a chuckle.

The parting was a tearful one as mother and daughter embraced each other. Elsie was sad at losing her daughter albeit temporarily, but consoled herself somewhat in the belief that this was a good career move for her. Andrea was sad to be leaving her mother and siblings and the only home she knew. But her sadness was compounded by the deception that concealed the real reason for her departure. Nevertheless, with nothing more than a meagre suitcase containing pretty much everything she owned, and a doctor’s certificate in hand, Andrea arrived in Brisbane in late July. She took up her position as consultant at Flyworld Travel, found shared accommodation with a fellow employee, also arranged by Terri, established contact with Melissa Andrews, the local family doctor, and settled in for what would ultimately be a life changing experience.

Andrea’s flat mate was a woman, thirty years of age. Her name was Louise Whiltshire, single, attractive, and highly motivated, she was a career woman on the move. She owned the flat Andrea shared with her, and Andrea negotiated a fair rent. Up until the time Andrea’s baby was due, money was not an issue. Flyworld valued her services and paid accordingly. Louise was friendly, and accommodating in matters associated with the pregnancy. She recommended Doctor Andrews to Andrea. She assisted by driving Andrea to the doctor for most of her monthly appointments and encouraged her to sign up for antenatal classes. As the birth date drew closer, Louise organized a baby shower, ensuring many of the essential items were provided as gifts from her friends. She became a confidant, someone Andrea could talk to with honesty, and share her feelings, and her fears.

But as most people know, little in this world happens as we wish. Andrea’s waters broke mid-morning of the day she gave birth. The contractions began in the early evening and Louise was there to help her pack, reassure her, and drive her to the hospital. In every way, Louise was a caring, thoughtful friend, providing all the support Andrea needed. It was a busy night that Sunday night. In the space of just two hours, four babies were born.

When Nurse Mahoney returned with Louise into the labour ward, Andrea looked up and burst into tears. At that precise moment, Louise was the nearest thing to family Andrea could embrace. Louise beamed a smile as broad as the doorway when she looked down upon mother and daughter. You did it, Louise said, as she kissed her on the forehead. Congratulations, you actually did it.

2.

Andrea spent just four days in hospital before returning with her baby daughter to her flat and the selfless care of Louise Whiltshire. Nothing was too much trouble for Louise. But, as Andrea grappled with the demands and complexities that are an integral part of caring for a new baby, not even the re-assuring presence of Louise could hold back the ever encroaching, physical, psychological, and social dynamics that haunt the mind of those who face the prospect of single parenthood from an unplanned pregnancy.

While breast-feeding her daughter Mary Therese, emotional depression began to intrude upon Andrea’s initial joy, and erratic, uncharacteristic behaviour overtook sound judgment. Andrea thought that motherhood would be a joyful experience, but with a nasty dose of colic, Mary Therese provided Andrea with little joy, little sleep, little opportunity to bond, and a perception of failure as a mother in that first month. In the early days of 1975, as Andrea watched on television the ongoing aftermath of Cyclone Tracy’s devastating impact on the people of Darwin on Christmas day a few weeks earlier, she was shocked at the destruction and dislocation of whole families. As relatives from all parts of the country offered shelter to the homeless, Andrea Steedman suddenly became acutely conscious of her own isolation. ‘Where is my family? Why am I not with them? How can I care for this baby who just cries, and cries, and cries?’ As the days passed, Andrea’s negativity, and feelings of inadequacy increased. She needed to return to work, but shuddered at the thought of being with other people. Her savings were in serious decline after providing the essentials for Mary Therese. She found herself constantly crying, and neglecting her diet. Her life, in the space of a few weeks, became a nightmare and in desperation, she came to a momentous decision. ‘I want to go home,’ she decided.

As Andrea’s postnatal depression deepened, she turned to her flat mate Louise. She poured out her feelings of guilt, her confusion, her uncertainty about wanting to keep the baby, and an underlying fear that she may do something to harm Mary Therese.

I can’t keep living like this, she said. I can’t afford to stay here and not work. I have to earn money to look after her, she said, the tears flowing freely, her distraught state fully exposed.

Don’t worry about the money. You don’t have to pay me any rent while you are away from work, Louise told her. There was a slight pause in the conversation as Andrea absorbed Louise’s reassurance.

Then, as if realizing that this was the perfect moment, Louise added, I know someone who might be able to help.

What do you mean? asked Andrea.

I don’t want to upset you but I know someone who knows about adoption. Andrea was temporarily stunned and opened her mouth to speak but the words would not come.

Don’t be shocked, Louise continued, there’s nothing wrong with thinking about it. It might be an alternative for you. I know someone who knows how it works and all that. They will find some loving couple to adopt your baby, she said. Andrea was not totally shocked. The thought had passed across her mind before Louise had suggested it. She knew that it might be a possibility from the moment she decided to come to Brisbane. She knew that the demands that would bear down upon her as a single parent would be enormous. She wondered if she would be up to the task, and in search of alternatives, her mind often drifted toward the idea of adoption.

I know someone who could arrange it for you, Louise repeated, and then after a short pause added, and pay you as well. Louise bit her lip. Pay me? Andrea said, surprised and confused. I don’t want to be paid. Andrea was taken aback at the very suggestion. Of all the possibilities she had considered, payment had never surfaced in her mind. I have thought about lots of things I could do, she answered. I could adopt, or I could go home with Mary Therese and tell my mother the truth. If I keep her, I know it’s going to be a huge struggle and I don’t know if I’m ready for that. There are things I want to do with my life, she said pleading. I want a career, I want to travel and see the places I spend so much time talking to other people about. But none of that will be possible unless I can be sure that Mary Therese finds a good home, something better than I can give her.

These people can do that. That’s what they do, and they are very mindful of your wishes, Louise said. And anyway, why shouldn’t you get paid? You are the baby’s mother. You are making a huge sacrifice, giving up your own flesh and blood. It’s only fair that you receive something in return; some compensation for all you have gone through.

It did not occur to Andrea at the time, that Louise made no mention of the likely psychological impact that might result as a consequence of parting with her baby; never to see her again, never to know what happened to her.

Will I know who the new parents are? she asked.

Yes, but once you hand over the baby, it is best not to know anything any more. You’ll get back to your normal life and soon you won’t think about it any more, Louise advised her. You sound like you have had some personal experience with this? Andrea said.

Me! Goodness no. But I have seen others go through it. Louise replied. Would you like me to make some enquiries for you?

Andrea went silent. She looked at the tiny baby in her arms, back at Louise and again at Mary Therese. It would all be legal and everything won’t it? she asked. There would be all the proper paper work and everything?

Yes of course. All adoptions have to be approved by the Department of Children’s Services. The people who do this look after all of that. You would just have to sign some papers.

"I do get to say who adopts her though, don’t I?’ said Andrea, suddenly concerned that she would not play any part in the final decision.

Yes of course you do. If you don’t like a particular couple, then you don’t have to agree to it.

Privately arranged adoptions became illegal in the state of Queensland from the introduction of the Adoption of Children Act of 1964, when all adoptions were processed through the Department of Children’s Services. Some assessment work was contracted out, and private arrangements for adoptions by relatives could take place, but even then, they still required the Director’s approval. That however, didn’t mean that private arrangements not involving relatives stopped occurring. Louise Whiltshire had a friend, who had a friend who knew about these things. Trading in new-born babies brought financial rewards. As babies became more difficult to find, desperate young couples with enough money to spend could negotiate a private adoption. All it needed was a birth certificate, and the birth mother to endorse a claim that a relative was adopting the child. It was a practice that was not without its risks, but greed, opportunity and desperation were regular bedfellows, and given the amount of money involved, risks were taken. When Andrea Steedman gave Louise permission to make some enquiries, little did she realize that Louise was well versed in the business of private adoptions. Little did Andrea realize that she was just one more unsuspecting mother who had fallen prey to the trade.

3.

In the modest offices of the Western Family Agency in Aston Park, a suburb ten kilometres west of Brisbane, one of the consultants, Julie Macleod, an attractive single woman, thirty two years of age, was on the phone. The Western Family Agency was funded privately, through the local church, and set up to undertake such noble tasks as family counselling, child health issues, social services for the elderly, and provide the local community with a variety of advice on access to government departments. It also conducted preliminary assessment work on adoption cases on behalf of the Department of Children’s Services. Under the direction of the Agency manager Ross Davidson, a team of four consultants worked together. The senior consultant, Julie Macleod was working on an adoption assessment when the phone rang. It was Louise Whiltshire. Acting surprised and a little agitated, Julie spoke quietly into the phone. You should not have called me here, she said softly. Louise was unapologetic. That prospect I mentioned to you yesterday, I think you should make contact. She’s ready to go ahead, Louise said. What’s her name? Julie asked. As Julie took down Andrea Steedman’s details, another consultant for the agency, Elizabeth Ashford had returned to her desk adjacent to Julie, with coffee for both of them. Okay leave it with me, Julie said to Louise and quickly hung up. Here’s your coffee, Elizabeth said. Thanks, Julie replied. Another case query? Elizabeth asked. Umm, yes maybe, Julie answered, without thinking. Distracted by the call from Louise Whiltshire, Julie sipped her coffee, as Elizabeth returned to her own desk. Julie’s mind was racing. An opportunity had come to make some money, an opportunity that might not come again. The illegality of the act she was considering was blurred by the lure of real money.

‘Why not?’ she thought. ‘Who gets hurt? Nobody. Everybody gets what they want and no one needs to know. Why not?’ Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the agency manager, Ross Davidson who called out from his office. Julie can I see you for a moment? Julie took another sip of her coffee, and disappeared into the manger’s office. A few minutes later, she emerged with a piece of paper in hand and collected her briefcase. I have to check on something for Ross, she said to Elizabeth. I’ll be back in half an hour. With that she left the building leaving her desk as it was.

Forty-five minutes later Julie telephoned Elizabeth. Elizabeth, I’m going to be a while with this case Ross has given me.

That’s okay, Elizabeth said, everything is fine here.

I was about to call someone just before I left, Julie said. Would you be a pet and do it for me? The details are in the file on my desk. Would you mind giving them a call and setting up an interview? she asked. Fine, yes I’ll do that, Elizabeth replied. Anytime in the next day or so, Julie said. Elizabeth hung up, took a quick sip of coffee, and checked Julie’s rather messy desk. There was an unmarked file sitting there. On top of the file was the note containing the details Julie had written down about Andrea Steedman. Believing the note to be a part of the unmarked file, Elizabeth clipped the note to the outside of the file and sat down to call Andrea and arrange an interview.

Elizabeth was a fifty-three year old woman, recently divorced and living alone. A year earlier, her husband had run off with another woman twenty years her junior, and her two adult children were both married with young families of their own. It was partly for financial reasons that she found herself back in the workforce, but as a lively, energetic mother, she had also involved herself in community work. Suddenly finding herself alone in middle age, she felt a strong need to feel useful and productive. Her new position as consultant at the Western Family Agency was a godsend, and she was particularly keen to excel. She had been with the agency just four months, and, not in anyway unsure of herself, was keen to impress those around her with her efficient and diligent nature.

Hello, my name is Elizabeth Ashford, she said to the person on the other end of the line. I’m from the Western Family Agency. Your name has been passed onto us and I wonder if I could arrange an interview with you about your baby? Thinking that the caller was responding to a referral from Louise Whiltshire, and that an interview was just that and nothing more, Andrea agreed. Err, yes, um, you can come anytime I suppose. Andrea said tentatively. With a relatively light agenda on her plate, Elizabeth decided to arrange an interview and take on the case herself. After arranging a suitable time that afternoon, she completed a preliminary application form containing the information on the piece of paper she had clipped to the front of the file, and without looking at anything else, slipped the form inside the file. Half an hour later, Julie Macleod called Elizabeth again to say that she would be further delayed.

Oh, by the way, Elizabeth said, I’ve arranged an interview with that new case on your desk. I will be seeing her this afternoon. Is that okay?

Yes that’s fine, Julie replied. Did you see a note I left on my desk when you got the file? Julie asked.

Yes, I got that, Elizabeth replied.

Could you put that note in my top draw for me? Julie asked.

Yes. What about the file?

No you keep the file. You have made the first approach. You can start it off. Just put that note in my top draw if you would.

After hanging up the phone, Elizabeth did as Julie asked, removing the note from the front of the file, and placing it in the top draw of Julie’s desk.

That afternoon, as Elizabeth Ashford knocked on the front door of the flat where Andrea Steedman lived, she could hear a baby crying inside. Seconds later the door was opened by a young woman, still in her nightgown, holding a baby in one arm, and a bottle of mother’s milk in the other.

I’m Elizabeth Ashford from the agency, she said, You’re Andrea?

Yes, do come in. Sorry for the mess. I’m having a difficult morning.

Elizabeth knew instantly that Andrea was having a difficult time. Apart from the flat looking like a bombsite, it wasn’t morning at all. The time was one thirty in the afternoon, and the woman she saw for the first time looked anxious, tired and appeared unable to cope.

You certainly look as if your hands are full. And this is…? Elizabeth asked, looking down lovingly at the crying Mary Therese. Oh, this is Mary. I was just trying to put her down for an afternoon nap. Would you excuse us for a minute? Just make yourself at home. I’ll be back in a moment.

A few moments later, Mary Therese began to cry. It was not a whimper but a fully-fledged cry, suggesting to Elizabeth that Mary Therese did not want to be put down for an afternoon sleep. Andrea retreated from the nursery room and closed the door, determined that Mary would not get her way. She does this every time I try to put her down. She takes a while to settle but eventually she’ll go to sleep, Andrea said, with a faint tinge of uncertainty in her voice. It’s a difficult time for you isn’t it, Elizabeth said, sensing Andrea’s insecurity. How have you been sleeping lately? Elizabeth asked, noticing the dark shadows under her eyes. Okay, she answered, and then added, well, not very well actually. The baby won’t sleep well during the day, so I sort of expect she will go out like a light at night, but I still have to get up to her at least three times every night. Elizabeth nodded thoughtfully. Have you asked your doctor to give you something to help Mary sleep at night? she asked. Andrea looked surprised. No, I didn’t think about that. Is there something I can give her? Elizabeth looked surprised now. "Yes, there is.