The Perfect Mother - Caroline Mitchell Page 0,27

don’t like you going over there without knowing your address.’

Her concern wrapped itself around me like a warm hug, but I was too stubborn to back down just yet. ‘This is mad. You’ve been watching too many cop programmes on TV.’

‘Please. Keep it hidden.’ She tightened her hands over mine as I took the phone. ‘They picked you because you’re a loner. You’ve got to ask yourself why.’

‘I’ve got you.’ My words were quiet and low.

‘Yes, but they don’t know that. I saw your profile. Why did you tell them you had nobody at home?’

I shrugged, placing the phone next to my suitcase to be packed. ‘Because it’s easier that way.’

Dympna tilted her head to one side. ‘Is it a one-way or a return ticket?’

‘One-way . . .’ I watched as her eyes grew wide. ‘But only because I might want to meet some other couples while I’m there. They’re booking my return flight when I’m good and ready. I’ll be staying at the Grand Hyatt Hotel. Don’t tell anyone. Please.’

Dympna’s features relaxed a little. ‘You’re not staying with them? Well, I suppose that’s something.’

‘They thought I’d be nervous about staying with strangers. We’re going to meet up a couple of times and we’ll be chatting on the phone. It’s all above board. I’ll be back before you know it.’

‘Then promise me you’ll hide the phone.’

I crossed my heart. It wouldn’t do any harm to stash it away with my things. Not that I would need it, but it would put her mind at rest.

‘And don’t forget the code word.’

‘Seriously?’ I chuckled at the mention of the word we’d been using since primary school. The word ‘pickle’ meant ‘rescue me’. If I was ever trapped at a party in a boring conversation, I only had to text or say that one word and Dympna would be ready with an excuse to help me leave.

I couldn’t stay annoyed at Dympna. She was only watching my back. In truth, I was a little scared myself. She had raised some very important questions. Why the need for all this secrecy? They were going against site protocol and should have divulged their identity by now. I was as scared as I was excited about such a big journey. But who would be meeting me on the other side?

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

ROZ

‘I don’t want you to go.’ Dympna stood in the doorway, her backpack slung over her shoulder. ‘I have a bad feeling about this. Like, a really bad feeling that’s giving me stomach ache.’

She was on the pre-dawn cleaning shift and was running late, but her feet seemed rooted to the floor.

‘It’s probably wind.’ I smiled weakly, my suitcase by my side. ‘Besides, the taxi will be here any minute. I’m hardly going to change my mind now, am I?’

‘Why do you have to be so stubborn?’ Dympna sniffed, wiping away an errant tear.

‘And why are you so controlling?’ I retorted, my voice breaking.

‘Well, shoot me for caring,’ was her instant reply. ‘You’d better come back, Roz Foley. And don’t take any shite over there. Any trouble and you call me, you hear?’

I nodded before being enveloped in a bone-crushing hug. It marked the end of our conversation; she turned and walked out the door.

I checked my compact mirror, groaning at my tear-stained reflection as I dabbed away the mascara smudges beneath my eyes. I cast one last, lingering gaze around the room. Seagulls screeched outside the kitchen window, fighting in mid-flight. I shook my head, wondering what state the place would be in when I came back. As for me . . . how would I be when I returned, no longer carrying the baby that was constantly in my thoughts? The prospect weighed heavy on my mind as I felt the monumental change ahead. Would I be able to give my firstborn away? But some mistakes were impossible to get past. Had Dympna known the truth, she would have pushed me out the door.

I found myself redoing my make-up in Dublin airport. There was no way I was turning up in New York looking like a panda. Dympna had said they should take me as I was; it was my baby they were buying, not me. Her comments were barbed, a reflection of her concerns. I spent my last few euros on make-up in the duty-free counter just the same. I must be crazy, flying to America with hardly any money to my name. But I had checked with the hotel. My room was

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