Page 9 of The Baby Plan

The device must have been fairly new, and presumably Natasha hadn’t ported her number from a previous phone, because the messages only went back about six months or so.

She moved onto WhatsApp and Facebook Messenger. Ah, bingo! There were many more messages here. She worked through them all methodically, not wanting to miss anyone meaningful or important, but mindful to read no more than she absolutely had to: she didn’t want to accidentally contact a random stranger who Natasha had bought baby clothes from on Facebook Marketplace or something. Her list grew slowly.

Afterwards, there didn’t seem to be any other app immediately obvious on the phone for communication, so she decided to bite the bullet and start calling people while Alana was still sleeping.

By the final call, Sophie was exhausted. It was hard and very strange breaking the news of her sister’s death to strangers over the telephone. It felt far too personal and raw for her to be sharing with people she didn’t know. But she was glad she’d done it and felt relieved the ordeal was over. A few people had thankfully offered to pass the word around Natasha’s circle, so she needn’t worry she’d missed anyone. And this way she didn’t have to decide whether or not to contact the angry blue-haired lady: either she was close enough that she’d hear and could make her own decision what to do, or she wasn’t and it wouldn’t matter.

It hadn’t been all bad: it had been good to speak with others who knew Natasha, who she could share her grief with. The whole experience left her feeling less alone in her sadness.

It wasn’t all quite done though, was it? Samson’s note was haunting her. He should be told about the funeral. He’d obviously had a relationship of sorts with her sister, and it might be that he’d want to say goodbye.

With a sigh, and genuinely not knowing whether or not she was doing the right thing, she took Samson’s note out of the drawer and picked up her own mobile to call him, but chickened out at the last minute. She was completely wrung out and couldn’t deal with another confrontation with him today. At that moment she heard Alana waking up in the next room which finalised her decision. She’d have to leave speaking to him for now; she could hardly call him with Alana crying in the background.

* * *

The evening before Natasha’s funeral, Sophie put Alana into her cot after her bath, stories and bottle. They were both getting used to their routine and it was Sophie’s favourite part of the day. She turned on the night light by the side of the cot and kissed her niece good night, longing to stay in there with her and watch her go to sleep, but knowing Alana would think it was definitely still playtime if she hung around. She’d come and check on her in a while.

Sophie walked wearily into the kitchen, and flicked on the kettle, wishing she had some wine in instead so she could drown her sorrows at least a little. Her mind was going over the arrangements for the following day, especially the babysitter from a very well-respected local agency who she’d booked to look after Alana, which was actually what she was most nervous about. She tidied the papers on the side and found Samson’s note amongst them. Guilt flooded through her; he should know about the funeral. It wouldn’t be right if she didn’t tell him. If he decided not to come, that was his choice. But she didn’t need to speak to him. She got out her mobile and typed out a text message giving the details for the next day and then sent it before she had a chance to change her mind.

* * *

Natasha’s funeral was small, held in a crematorium suggested by the funeral director, which, not being a local, Sophie had never even driven past before. The service was short and non-religious, as Sophie guessed Natasha would have wanted. Sarah McLachlan’s ‘Angel’ played as everyone filed out, Sophie remembered her sister liking it as a teenager.

Sophie consoled herself with the fact that everyone there seemed to have genuinely cared about Natasha. Everyone spoke about her affectionately and had a touching memory to share. The sad news had indeed been passed around as promised: surprisingly there were even several wreaths sent from various exotic places her sister had briefly lived in across the world, all with very thoughtful and heartfelt messages attached.

For the first time in her life Sophie was glad her parents were no longer with her. Burying their child was something no parent should ever have to go through.

It was only when the service was over, and people were making their way outside, that Sophie spotted Samson in the back row. He caught her eye and nodded and she managed to nod back before, thankfully, another one of Natasha’s friends came over to give her condolences.

Sophie could feel Samson watching her as she moved around the wake she’d organised in a hotel meeting room close to the crematorium. She tried to make sure she spoke to everyone, thanking them for coming and finding out about their relationship with her sister.

The funeral itself had felt cathartic, like she was properly able to say goodbye to Natasha, but she found it hard to hold herself together afterwards. She was emotionally exhausted and wanted to be away from these people she didn’t know, to stop having to be polite and make small talk. She wanted to be back with Alana and her vibrant, simplistic expression of life.

She suspected Samson was waiting until everyone had left before confronting her. She could see him out of the corner of her eye as she said goodbye to Natasha’s friends. The final mourner left and Sophie had paid the bill at the reception when he strode over. She had no opportunity to slip away.

“Where’s Alana?” he asked gruffly and without any preamble.

“She’s with a babysitter. I didn’t think a funeral was the best place to bring a baby.”

Samson’s face softened and Sophie felt guilty for not admitting this was only part of why she hadn’t brought Alana to her mother’s funeral. The whole truth was Sophie still didn’t feel confident enough to handle Alana while surrounded by Natasha’s super cool, world traveller, hippy friends, and also wanted to be able to mourn her sister without having to worry about naps, bottles and full nappies.

“Thank you for letting me know about today,” Samson said in a much gentler tone, “I’m glad I was able to come.”

He gave a cheerless smile and, for a split second, Sophie was glad he’d come as well, and said, “I’m sorry I didn’t reply to your note properly. There’s been a lot to deal with, a lot of readjustment and organising today...”

“I understand that, and I’m sorry for your loss. But I have to see my daughter,” Samson said kindly, though with definite resolve.

“I know . . .” began Sophie.

“When can I see her?”

Sophie sighed. She didn’t want to be dealing with this right now. She wanted to go home to Alana and her bedtime routine. She needed to hold Alana to her, to smell her hair after her bath, and cover her tummy with kisses.

“Things got a little... away from us, when I came round. Let’s try to take a step back. I know you said you were worried about me telling the truth, whether I am Alana’s father. Well...” He handed her a folded piece of paper. She opened it apprehensively; it was Alana’s birth certificate, naming Natasha as her mother and with a blank space for her father’s details.

“When Natasha told me about Alana, she wanted me to see that the um... dates added up and they match with when we were together,” he said.

Sophie’s first thought was that she knew Alana’s birthday now — she’d been born on 1 December. This pleasure was rapidly followed though by the necessary acknowledgement of Samson’s right to see Alana. Natasha clearly thought he was the father and there was no denying the physical resemblance. Yes, Sophie was Alana’s only maternal blood relative, but as her father, presumably Samson would be well within his rights to demand regular access to Alana, if not full parental authority. Dread filled Sophie’s stomach as she tried desperately to figure out the best way to deal with the situation. He wasn’t actually named on the certificate, was he? All she could think was she should go along with what he wanted for now and then get legal advice if she became worried he wanted to take Alana from her permanently.

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