Page 51 of Dangerously Deceptive

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I slump downonto the bed, exhaustion hitting me like a tonne of bricks, and it’s only as I feel the wetness rolling down my cheeks do I realise how hurt I am. A hand touches me on my shoulder, and I look up to see the concerned face of the young midwife, who is now flanked by an older, sterner-looking midwife. My attention is pulled from them by a high-pitched grumble, and I look over to see my little girl shuffling around in Annette’s arms. My instinct is to go to her, to hold her tight, and apologise for the fact that her mother just fucking abandoned her, but I’m too angry. I literally feel as though I have millions of ants scurrying around under my skin and I don’t quite know what to do with myself. Do I sob hysterically, pace, scream, or just sit here in silence? I kinda want to do them all and none of them. The truth is, I have no idea what to feel or what to do.

“This is a letter from Shayla informing me she is leaving me and the baby. She has included the necessary signed legal documents that gives me all of the parental rights to the baby. It enables me to register the birth, and she has even helpfully included the DNA test confirming I am the father. After that, the birth records will be sealed by court order and her name will be redacted from the birth certificate. She doesn’t want her to ever know who her mother is, and right now, I’m very fucking okay with that,” I spit, as I hand over the necessary documents the midwives will need. They don’t need the letter, or the documents showing me she has fleeced me for everything I have. Or should I say, everything she thinks I have. Thank fuck I never told her about my secret offshore account. I will be able to take a little from that to get us set up in a crappy flat. But it will take me some time before I can wash enough of the cash to make a bigger purchase. I will need to do some jobs, and soon. I hadn’t planned on working much the first few months, wanting to just spend time with my girls. Guess I don’t have any options now. But I also don’t have a babysitter. Fuck. I have no idea what I’m going to do.

The older, sterner-looking midwife snaps me out of my spiral when she addresses me. “Kellan, do you have any idea where she might have gone? She only gave birth recently, she lost a little bit of blood and she had sutures. We need to make sure she gets the right postnatal care. Obviously we will care for you and your baby, but she still needs care too.”

I look at her, and for a moment I really do consider telling her that I know exactly where she will be. For a fraction of a second I was worried about Shay. I want to make sure she gets the care she needs, and if that means telling the midwives where she is, then so be it. But then I realise, she doesn’t want to be found. She said as much in the letter. If she wants to receive postnatal care she would have told the midwife she was leaving, instead of just sneaking out before she is discharged. She made her decision and now she has to live with them. “No, I don’t know. Sorry. I’m guessing she will get help if she needs it.”

“Sir, we have to take this seriously. Obviously these legal documents will go a long way, but it’s still my job to report the fact that a vulnerable girl went missing from my hospital. Siobhan was telling me they had a discussion before she left that Shayla was the subject of an assault. Do you know anything about that?” The stern midwife is looking at me, her eyes full of judgement, and I know what she’s thinking. She is thinking Shayla fled from her abusive boyfriend. If they think that there’s a good chance of that, they will take my baby girl from me.

I try to find the words to answer, but all I can do is gasp for breath. I need help. Luckily, Annette stands up and addresses the midwife. I can hear her talking, as I type out a text. I want to ring Liam, but I can’t find the words.

Kellan: Help! Shayla has gone. She’s left me with the baby. Midwives are questioning me and threatening to call the police. I’m having a panic attack. Please come. Room 12, maternity ward. University Hospital Limerick.

I don’t wait for an answer, instead tuning back into Annette’s conversation. “Yes, I’m one of the nurses who cared for Shayla when she was brought in after the attack. That’s how I met them. Kellan stayed by her side the whole time. I was there when the police interviewed Shayla, and she made it clear that Kellan wasn’t involved. In fact, when I asked Kellan to leave the room and I questioned her on the risk of domestic violence, what she had to say was quite the opposite. She said Kellan was helping her get free from a dangerous, brutal lifestyle, that without him they would have surely killed her. She was being abused in the worst way possible, and although she never confirmed anything, from the way she spoke, I suspected her attackers were known to her.

“The abuse was a pattern not a one-off like she implied. She never talked about who, and I doubt she told Kellan about her family as she knew how much danger it would put him in. If she has gone back there, that’s her choice, one she won’t have made lightly. I know from a safeguarding standpoint you have to report this. But I also know that the child welfare department specialist that attends will take one look at the DNA test, and the abdication of parental rights, and they will give custody to Kellan. To do any different would be discriminating against him for being a dad and not a mum. They don’t do welfare checks, or assessments on single mums, so why would they do one on a single dad?” Annette suggests, and I want to hug her so badly right now.

The older midwife seems to huff around, but I catch the small smile on Siobhan’s face, before she turns to address me. “She is right. I do have to report it, but I will make sure to tell them that I have witnessed no signs or cause for concern while you have been in my care. All I have witnessed is the love you have for your daughter. I will go and get things sorted, so hopefully you can take her home soon. If you do think of anywhere Shayla might be, even if it’s a hunch, I will send the Garda to do a welfare check.”

She turns to leave, and guides the more senior midwife out with her, as she looks like she has more to say. Thankfully she leaves without another word, which is good because I don’t think I can take much more.

“How bad is it? I know you didn’t tell them everything,” Annette asks as she sits back in the chair, my little girl now back asleep in her arms. She looks so cosy, and I hate to risk disturbing her, but I can’t not hold her right now.

“Do you mind if I take her for a minute?” I ask, and Annette just tuts, standing up and pointing for me to take the chair she was occupying. I tell her I didn’t mean to take her seat but again she just scoffs at what I say and tells me to sit down.

As she hands me the beautiful girl, I can’t help but stare at her. She’s dressed in a white babygrow with the cutest little grey comet and the words ‘Love you to the moon and back’. That’s when I realise, I know exactly what I want to call her. Hallie. Not the same spelling as the comet, but still as beautiful and memorable. All the clothes are too big for her, she only weighs six pounds and two ounces. She’s like the most perfect little thing, and I can’t believe Shayla could leave her.

Looking back now, I realise she must have been planning it all along. That’s why she had me prepare so much for parenthood. Had me sign all my worldly possessions over to her. Why she couldn’t even look at her when she was born. She never planned on sticking around. The only reason she came back to me in the first place is to steal everything from me, and leave me with Hallie. She didn’t need to go through all the effort of pretending to love me, to play happy families. I would have given her everything in exchange for Hallie, if that’s what she wanted. In fact, I would have preferred that to having my heart ripped out as a fucking added extra. But, I guess when Shayla does a job, she really goes for it. I wonder how much of it was fake, was any of what we had real? Fuck! It doesn’t really matter. She is gone now, and we are better off without her.

“She took everything. My house, my money, everything. I thought I was adding her onto those things for safety reasons, to protect the baby if anything happened to us. I thought I was preparing for the worst-case scenario that would never happen. I didn’t know she was secretly fleecing me out of everything I own!” I mumble to Annette, not wanting Hallie to hear how angry I am.

“I’m so sorry, Kellan. What are you going to do?” she asks, and my brain is running a mile a minute while I try to think of all my options.

“I have enough money to find us a crappy flat, but I will need some time to find it. Plus, anything that’s not out of my current house within forty-eight hours will be sold. My best friend should be here soon, he’s going to help.”

I look over at this sweet lady, who I barely know, and you can just tell by the look on her face that she really cares. Not just in the ‘doing her job’ way, but more than that. So, I'm not surprised when she offers me help. “You know you can always stay with me. Or I can watch the baby for you any time if you have to work. I know we don’t know each other all that well, but you and I are very similar, Kellan. Neither of us have people we call family. So, if you need someone, make sure you call me.”

I can’t help but smile. Even though I can still feel some rogue tears sliding down my face, she still cheers me up. “You are a very kind woman, Annette. I thought that when we first met, and I guess I was meant to find you outside just now!”

I’ve never really believed in fate, or that things happening for a reason, but then again, I’ve never had a lot of luck with things. People who have lived the type of life I’ve had, it’s difficult to believe that this is what someone, or something, had planned for me all along. It’s not bad luck, it’s just what was supposed to happen. I hate that idea, but I am grateful to have found her.

“She is called Hallie, by the way.” I nod towards the baby, and Annette’s eyes light up.

“That’s such a beautiful name.” I can tell she really means it. I have seen it before where people tell you the name of their baby, and it’s something ridiculous like the name of a car, a place, or a fruit, and all you can say is that it’s a lovely name, or don’t they look beautiful. There are no words, because you can’t turn around and tell them they have picked an awful name. That child will be stuck with it forever, and will have to endure high school with that name. But, I can tell by the sparkle in Annette’s eyes as they begin to fill with tears that she means what she said.

“Thank you. It’s not even a big enough word to cover how grateful I am for you right now. I know I sort of kidnapped you on your way home from work, and it is getting late. Why don’t you go? My friend will be here in a few minutes anyway. I will give you a text when I’m settled and you can come over and see me and Hallie. I will definitely take you up on that babysitting offer,” I say, as I watch her try to hide another yawn. She has been trying to hide them for the last half an hour. But it is getting late, and I know she must have just finished a long day shift. This was only supposed to be a quick visit and she has been here almost an hour and a half.

After a lot of reassuring, and lots of kisses with my now very awake baby, she finally says her goodbyes and leaves, but not before we swap numbers and agree to stay in touch. I promise her I will call and I mean it. As my little girl continues to cry, I start to freak out. I have no idea what the hell I am doing, and I’m starting to panic. I know I can stick my head out of the door or ring the call bell and someone will be able to help me, but that won’t be an option when I get her home. Instead, it will all be on me. I will be responsible for soothing her, finding out why she is crying, and generally making sure she remains alive. Which, at this moment in time, seems like a tall order.

My heart is racing and I’m back to panicking. No matter how much I pace, I can’t clear my brain enough to think about what she might need. All I can hear is her high-pitched squawk. She sounds as though I am trying to kill her, and all I can do is cry with her because I can’t do this. I wasn’t made to be a dad, let alone a single dad. I can’t even cope with her crying, let alone work out what the fuck is wrong with her. I’m failing her and she isn’t even eight hours old yet. What a fucking start to life.

Just as I’m about to plunge further into despair, the door swings open and in rushes my best friend, Liam. My whole body relaxes, because I know now that I’m not alone. Not that he has any better a clue at being a dad, but he sure as fuck will keep me in check to make sure I’m a good one.

“Liam…” The sob speaks for itself, and I can’t find the words to say anything else, I just sob.

Rushing over, he takes hold of the baby, rocking and cooing her a little bit until she calms down and he places her back into her cot before pulling me in for a hug. We are not normally huggers, but I sure as fuck need one right now. I don’t give a shit about looking manly. My entire world feels like it’s collapsing around me and I am barely hanging on.

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