Cutting the Cord Read online

  Amira listens to her wailing. She is not being deceived. ‘Where’s Amelia?’

  ‘She’s asleep. We’re at a hotel.’

  ‘Which hotel?’

  More crying.

  ‘Mother, please. I can’t help you unless you tell me where you are.’

  That seems to comfort Edith. ‘The Star City,’ she says. ‘The casino. I didn’t think your father would look for me here.’

  ‘Good idea.’ After a moment Amira asks, ‘How did you find out about all this?’

  ‘When you came home. I saw that you were deeply unhappy. Kolya said you saw a little girl witness one of your missions. Then your father went to Cologne; he said he had to talk sense into you. I did some digging around, asked Patrick to help. When you know someone long enough, you know what makes them vulnerable.’

  ‘You blackmailed Patrick?’ Amira asks, amazed at her mother’s strength.

  ‘Years ago, he tried to kiss me. I threatened to tell your father unless he helped me locate your birth family. As it was, he knew the true story. I thought you were both adopted through the proper channels. Your father had adoption papers. They looked real, and I wanted you, so I signed them. Mira, what will I do? I have no-one outside the Movement.’

  ‘Don’t worry. What’s your room number?’

  ‘Ten sixty-four. It’s a Pyrmont-view apartment. Floor ten.’

  Father will never think Mother capable of such extravagance. ‘I’ll be there as soon as I can. Don’t call anyone else; don’t tell anyone where you are.’

  ‘I won’t, Mira. I love you so much.’

  ‘I’ll be there soon.’

  Her head is swarming like a beehive. Minette is staring at her, dumbfounded.

  ‘I’ll explain everything in the car,’ she says to her. ‘Are you packed?’

  Jack strides into the room, a small duffel bag hoisted over his shoulder. ‘We’re ready.’

  ‘Do you have a pocketknife?’ Amira asks him.

  He collects one from the cupboard above the refrigerator and she puts it in her pocket.

  ‘Be careful; it’s sharp,’ he says.

  ‘I don’t suppose you have a gun?’ Amira asks.

  He looks offended. ‘We’re not like that,’ he says.

  Before they leave the house, she takes the photo of Father, and one of Minette with her two toddlers and puts them in the back pocket of her jeans.

  Jack insists on taking his four-wheel drive. Minette sits in the front passenger seat beside him, half turned towards Amira, as she explains her conversation with Mother.

  ‘So your mum, she didn’t know?’ Jack asks doubtfully.

  Amira looks through the back windshield, but the road is clear. ‘Had no clue. She’s so dependent on Father – always has been. She would have just signed the adoption papers, no questions asked.’

  ‘You think going to her is safe?’ Minette asks.

  ‘No. But she needs me. I’ll make sure you and Jack are okay.’

  Minette draws back, making herself look smaller. After a few moments she says: ‘I’ll meet your mother?’

  Her two mothers meeting will be an awkward moment, to say the least, yet there is no choice. ‘Father told me Kolya is my twin. He is James.’

  Minette sinks against the seat and stares out of the window at the morning fog, now clearing.

  19

  21 JUNE

  The light in the lobby seems a dull constant – so you can’t tell whether it is day or night outside. They walk towards the lifts leading up to the apartments, past a lounge, a cafe, a wishing fountain glistening with coins. They move between glass doors. Amira presses the up arrow. Jack is breathing like he’s been jogging.

  Amira hits number ten.

  Minette is pawing at the strap on her black handbag. Jack stares at an all-you-can-eat buffet poster on a wall. This is Amira’s doing, her decision. She reaches out to touch Minette, but pulls back when the lift chinks.

  Tenth floor.

  They pass through the sliding doors and the air has a chemical citrus smell. Amira turns to Minette and Jack.

  ‘Wait here,’ she whispers. ‘I’ll check the area and come back when it’s safe.’

  Minette’s chin quivers, and Jack’s forehead is gleaming with moisture.

  ‘I hope you’re right about this,’ he says.

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘Then we can all go back and live happily ever after.’

  Amira pads down the carpet-lined hallway, past newspapers and trays of leftover breakfasts. The citrus smell mingles with the clogging scent of crispy bacon strips and fried eggs. Her stomach hardens against nausea. Fluorescent lighting offers cold illumination. A TV is playing beyond one of the wooden doors. The corridor is empty.

  Room 1064.

  She stares at the polished wooden door for about two minutes and there is nothing but silence. If only Lukas could be with her; if only he wasn’t a cop and she could hold on to him. Curse his name. Then she raps at the door, feels for the pocketknife, and counts up to nine seconds.

  Mother answers, opens the door an inch, the latch holding. Her brown eyes expand, looking Amira over cautiously. Edith closes the door. The latch clicks and then Mother is before her in full view. She is changed: her grey-black hair tousled, and dark circles standing out under her frightened eyes. She’s wearing navy pants and a lavender jumper.

  ‘You came.’

  Amira inhales deeply, stands a foot away from her. ‘Mother.’

  ‘Well, don’t just stand there, come in.’

  The two women embrace, Edith trembling in Amira’s arms. She smells of ginger and nectarine, as though she has just showered.

  Amira studies her face, then looks around uncertainly. An open kitchen. Baby bottles, a tin of formula, a mug and teaspoon are by the sink. An integrated dining and living area. A hardwood table. Copies of newspapers. A large rectangular mirror on the wall. LCD television, coffee table, sofa, two modular chairs with plush cushions. Charcoal-coloured curtains. A balcony. The sound of a heater humming.

  ‘Where’s Amelia?’ she asks.

  ‘Come, I’ll show you.’

  Edith leads her down a narrow hallway to a room where Amelia is sleeping in the centre of a double bed. Her arms and legs are sprawled open, like a small eagle in flight. Morning light floods in through the window, giving her a buttery glow. Pillows are at the bed’s edges. Amira checks the wardrobe. A light comes on, revealing baby clothes.

  She turns and goes into the bathroom. White tiles, marble vanity and floor. Disposable nappies, a single toothbrush, a hairbrush, a glass wet around the rim, a used shower cap, a bath mat, damp, on the floor in front of the shower. In the bin, four nappy sacks.

  The second bedroom. King-sized bed, unmade, flannelette pyjamas, a pair of ugg boots lined up next to it, suitcase open, clothes neatly folded, bedside table with a glass of water, phone and a pillow menu offering boomerang, contour foam, microfibre, latex rubber, feather and down pillows. Such opulence.

  Wardrobe and second bathroom: clear.

  She returns to the living room and looks out of the window to the balcony and the city below. The blue sky is littered with wisps of cloud. Mother leans against the wall near the television.

  ‘Kolya. Did you know he was my twin?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You could have told me,’ she says, ‘should have.’

  Mother steps closer. ‘Your father said it would create jealousy between your other brothers. I didn’t know you were stolen.’

  ‘You knew how badly I wanted to know about my birth family. You kept it from me.’

  ‘I was afraid.’

  Amira turns to her. Edith drops her gaze to her feet. For a moment she looks like a rumpled old lady.

  ‘My birth mother and her husband are in the hallway.’

  ‘You brought them here?’

  ‘Father is after them, too.’

  ‘How much do they know?’

  ‘Everything.’

  Edith clos
es her eyes, tucking her top lip under her bottom lip.

  Amira puts a hand on her arm. ‘I’ll look after you.’

  She nods stiffly.

  Amira goes to find Minette and Jack and brings them into the room. She can hear herself making the introductions. No-one offers a hand. The air seems to have sapped the possibility of speech. A headache is building behind her eyes.

  Finally Mother asks: ‘Do you want anything to drink? Coffee? Tea?’

  Minette makes a small sound of assent.

  ‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ Mother says, rescued by the routine of tea preparations.

  Minette and Jack sit down at the dining table while Amira helps Mother in the kitchen, filling the kettle with tap water, opening cupboards to find mugs. She fumbles one onto a tray.

  ‘You look like her,’ Mother’s voice is soft.

  They take the tray into the dining area and sit down opposite Jack and Minette. The pocketknife presses against Amira’s thigh and she shifts it slightly. They each prepare their own drink, peeling back the lids on the UHT milk, tearing open sachets, stirring their concoctions with spoons.

  Armed with caffeine, Jack faces Mother square on. ‘I want to know one thing. Was wrecking my wife’s life worth it?’

  Mother drops her eyes, her pale face vulnerable. The meeting of the mothers – and Jack – a bad idea.

  Minette stares hard at her husband. ‘Drink your tea,’ she says.

  A tic twitches in Mother’s cheek, betraying her anxiety. ‘I didn’t know he stole them,’ she begins in a small, timid voice, unable to look anyone in the eye. ‘I would never have allowed it. I thought it was a proper adoption.’

  There is silence.

  After a while, Minette enquires, ‘Is it true that you trained them as Warriors?’

  Under the table Mother’s knuckles turn white.

  A hot flush washes over Amira. ‘She thought it was best for us,’ she says.

  Mother looks up, her eyes wet. ‘By the time I thought of leaving, it was too late. Nothing would have convinced my sons to leave the Movement. They were dedicated. I can’t tell you the number of times I planned packing our bags, but I would never leave without my children. And I was afraid.’

  Jack’s stare is stony. ‘Followed him down a funnel-web hole.’

  ‘That’s how it was.’

  Minette flips a sachet of sugar around her fingers, throwing it back on the tray.

  ‘Sometimes time slips away from us before we know where we are going,’ Edith says.

  ‘There’s been a lot of slippage,’ Jack replies. He’s leaning back in his wooden chair.

  Amira looks at Mother and explains what happened in Cologne, the fire in her apartment and how she ended up in Sydney.

  Mother listens, her eyes a glassy sheen.

  ‘I never thought he would take matters so far.’

  Amira lays a hand on top of hers. She’s cold. ‘You’re not stupid, Mother. Father manipulated all of us.’ She pulls the photo of David out of her back pocket and slides it in front of Edith.

  She looks down at the picture and winces. ‘He was young then,’ she responds.

  ‘That’s David, the father of my twins,’ Minette says.

  Amira puts the photo back in her pocket and goes to get Edith a tissue from the bathroom. When she returns they are all staring into their mugs.

  ‘We have to decide what to do,’ Amira says, handing Mother a tissue. She pulls out her phone and searches news sites. Information can be leverage.

  Minette pours herself another cup of tea.

  ‘I still think we should go to the police,’ Jack says, his mouth set in a grim line. ‘They’ll have proper DNA tests.’

  Amira perseveres with the websites, eventually finding a small report on one of the most popular German news items:

  Police Find Cologne Weapons Cache

  Police found an arsenal of weapons, ammunition, grenades, missiles, rocket launchers, plastic explosives, ricin, fake IDs, mobile phones and a box of SIM cards in an early-morning raid on a suburban home in Cologne yesterday, they said.

  The owners of the Rodenkirchen property, Wilhelm Fauser, 25, and his wife, Marie Fauser, 24, have been arrested on suspicion of possessing illegal firearms, explosives, other dangerous items and fake identification cards.

  ‘What is it?’ Mother’s whisper is on Amira’s neck.

  She hands the phone to Edith. ‘My messenger, my contact in Germany, has been arrested for possession of illegal weapons.’

  ‘Good to know taxpayers’ money matters in some parts of the world,’ Jack says.

  Mother gives Amira back her phone. ‘Will he talk?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  There is no more news on Knudsen or the fire in her apartment. As she looks, her phone beeps with a message. She reads it twice.

  In Sydney. Can we meet? Alone. K.

  ‘He’s sent Kolya,’ Amira mutters.

  Silence.

  ‘I want to meet him. See if I can change his mind,’ Minette says.

  ‘Don’t be so naive,’ Edith replies. Then she rises and looks off across the balcony, biting on the tip of a thumb.

  ‘My poor son,’ she says.

  ‘I’ll make him see,’ Amira replies.

  ‘Let me come,’ pleads Minette.

  ‘He wants to meet me alone. He won’t appreciate being bombarded.’

  ‘Look,’ Jack says. ‘This Kolya doesn’t sound too friendly. It’s not wise to see him under these conditions.’

  ‘You must go to him,’ Mother says. ‘He’ll listen to you.’

  Amira sends Kolya a message.

  Hello, brother. Yes, let’s meet. Where? When?

  Mother continues to gaze out across the city while Minette carries the dirty dishes to the sink. There is a faint cry of a baby.

  ‘What’s that?’ Jack asks.

  ‘My sister,’ Amira announces.

  Edith holds her throat as if to hold her head up, and walks to the bedroom. She returns with Amelia, a puffy-eyed baby in a cotton jumpsuit. She seems rounder, bones lost in the knots of baby fat. Her cheeks are flushed the colour of peaches. One dimply hand rests on Mother’s shoulder, the other is a fist.

  ‘Who’d you steal her off, then?’ Jack says.

  ‘May I hold her?’ Amira asks.

  Amelia’s fingers wrap around her hair and she tugs as Amira embraces and kisses her. She is astonished at how her sister has grown in such a short period of time and also at her lack of fear.

  ‘Hello, sweetie,’ she says. The word sounds strange on her lips; she isn’t used to cooing over babies.

  Her phone sings with another message from Kolya.

  ‘He wants to meet me at a restaurant in the Harbourside Shopping Centre. Eight pm.’

  The meeting is hours away and will give Kolya time to gather his forces.

  ‘Near the Maritime Museum,’ Jack explains, looking at the message. ‘About a fifteen minute walk away – at most.’

  ‘I’ll change the time. Make it in an hour.’

  ‘You can’t face him jet-lagged, exhausted, starving,’ Mother says.

  ‘Listen to her,’ Minette says firmly.

  Minette looks across to Jack.

  ‘Never argue with two women, only gets you in trouble,’ he says.

  She sighs heavily and sends Kolya a message consenting to his demands.

  ‘Now, food,’ Edith says. ‘Let me see …’ She looks around, unsure.

  Jack says, ‘Pick something from room service, and I’ll order.’

  Amira shakes her head; she has no desire to eat.

  ‘Come now, Mira,’ Mother says. Then, ‘Jack, why don’t you decide on something for us?’

  Amira is annoyed at Mother deferring to him, the man, in this way. Hasn’t she learned anything?

  ‘Mira?’ Minette asks. ‘I thought your name was Anika?’

  Amira explains the two different names.

  Jack studies the menu. ‘Over twenty-five dollars for a st
eak sandwich!’ he exclaims.

  ‘I’m paying,’ Mother responds.

  The day is spent holed up in the apartment with adults who don’t want to speak to each other or, when they do, cannot find the words. They charge phones, pick at sandwiches and chips, go to the toilet. Drink more cups of tea and coffee. More trips to the toilet. Playing with Amelia. Amira craves chocolate and can’t resist the bars in the fridge. But there are not enough of them, especially because she has to share with Jack. Despite her best efforts, she can’t sleep. They are all on edge. Like they are waiting for Armageddon. They can all feel it in the air, in the minutes and hours that tick by, in each breath. At 6 pm the waiting has stretched almost to snapping point, and Amira takes her backpack from the sofa and hoists it over her shoulders.

  ‘I’ll get there early,’ she says. ‘Scope out the surroundings.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Mother asks.

  ‘Yes.’

  Minette wraps her arms around Amira. ‘I don’t know what to say,’ she says.

  Amira thinks of the empty cots in Minette’s nursery. She is determined not to fall apart.

  ‘If you don’t hear from me by eleven pm, go straight to the police.’

  ‘Eleven pm?’ Sweat drips down Jack’s crumpled forehead, despite the coolness in the room.

  ‘I need time to talk sense into him.’

  Amira kisses Amelia and Mother goodbye, wondering if she will ever see them again, and if she does, where it might be, and if she doesn’t, whether they would join Lukas on a list of people that she has once known and loved.

  Edith cups Amira’s face in her palms. ‘He won’t hurt you,’ she says. ‘I know his heart.’

  Then Amira steps away from Edith’s hands, and leaves the apartment.

  20

  21 JUNE

  In the winter evening she crosses Pirrama Road at the traffic light and goes up the winding path to Darling Harbour. She passes the Australian Maritime Museum in safety and sucks in the cold city air. A breeze from the west. The blackness lit up by neon lights, office buildings that have never heard of climate change. Water laps at boats. On this chilly night only the wild, the desperate and tourists are down at the harbour. The list could include Movement people on the prowl. She looks straight across to the aquarium, up ahead: Barangaroo.