Karen squeezed her hand. “Alice, you’re the innocent in all of this. I didn’t tell you because I never wanted you to be burdened by something you have no control over. All I wanted was for you to grow up feeling safe and loved. To be free of shame and fear so you could be happy and meet your potential. I wanted everything for you that your mother didn’t get to have. What she wanted for you.”
The prickle of tears made Alice blink. “How do you even know what she wanted for me?”
“The police found a letter in her pocket written on hospital paper. I still have it. Do you want to read it?”
Alice’s instincts warned her to protect herself. “No. Maybe you can paraphrase it?”
“She said she loved you. She wanted to be a mother but she knew she couldn’t be until she got clean. She asked me to keep you safe until she could.” Karen took in a ragged breath. “You were so sick and her pain and shame must have been so acute … I just wish I’d known. I’d have rescued her from the streets, I’d—”
“Lisa didn’t want you to see her like that,” Peter said softly. “How sick she was …”
Alice took her mother’s hand and held it as understanding unfurled inside her. The secret grief Karen had carried all these years drove everything she did, from the way she’d raised her to her current push for Alice to live a safe and secure life. “I can’t imagine how you did it.”
“Did what?”
“Overcame your own childhood deprivation and loved us so well.”
Karen rested her head against hers. “I was lucky. I met your father.”
“You worked bloody hard,” Peter said.
“Yes, but I had all the Hunters loving me and making me feel safe. It’s easier to be the person you want to be when you see your best self reflected back to you through others’ eyes. And your grandmother was special. With grace and an innate understanding and a lot of guidance, she and your dad showed me how to be a mother.”
“You’re a wonderful mother. And because of you and Dad, I’m relatively happy and healthy. You don’t have to worry about me as much as you do.”
“I’ve been telling her that for years,” Peter said.
Karen kept her gaze on their intertwined fingers. “It’s hard for me not to worry, Alice. As a child, you were so much like Lisa, living in your own make-believe world of rainbows and your cast of fairy friends. You clung to your childhood so much longer than Libby and that worried me. You were naive and innocent and easily hurt. When you dropped out of everything then refused to go to school and the psychologist said you were at risk, I was terrified. My worst fear has always been that one day, just like your mother, you might find everything too much.”
Anguish for Lisa and Karen morphed with her own needs. “I’ve grown up, Mom. You and Dad got me here by loving me and giving me every opportunity to overcome my tough start. I’m sorry about my big wobble in the middle, but that was everything to do with aching to be a regular kid who didn’t need extra help. And probably a bit to do with living in Libby’s shadow.”
She gave her mother a wry smile. “I’m sorry I was slow to find my adult feet but, hey, I was slow in everything, right? The thing is, I’ve survived having my heart broken, being told I can’t have children and that my parents didn’t create me. I’ve cried about the babies I’m not going to have and I’m sure I will again, but I can honestly tell you that not once have I ever thought about hurting myself, or worse. I’m not Lisa, Mom. I’ve only ever known love and I’ve got you and Dad to thank for that.”
Karen’s tears intensified. “I’m so relieved.”
“So, you’ll stop worrying?”
“Are you content?”
Alice considered the question. “I’m all sorts of things at any given moment. I’m angry at my body and now I can’t help thinking that my ovaries don’t work because of the toxic cocktail I floated in as a fetus—”
“I’m so sorry, Alice. I know how much you wanted children.”
“Thank you.” She bit her lip, using the pain to hold herself together. “And while we’re being honest with each other, I need you to understand that I don’t want to go back to Melbourne.”
“But you loved—”
“Kaz,” Peter said gently. “Listen.”
Alice threw him a grateful look. “I thought I loved my job. But it turns out designing catalogs to showcase artworks for the rich to buy didn’t come close to giving me the job satisfaction I’m getting now. I love using art to help people remember their lives and remind their families they weren’t always old and frail. The mural I’m going to create as part of my artist-in-residence position means I can bring joy to people by representing why they live where they live.”
She thought about how Holly was drawing her way through her grief and how Harry was using Alice’s painting of the old Clarendon homestead to remind him of how far he’d come. “I want my work to be about using art to improve people’s lives on an everyday basis, not helping someone with a lot of money elevate his social status. And I want to do it here in Kurnai Bay and the surrounding district. It’s my safe place. I’ve got you and Dad and Libby. I’ve got friends.”
Her mother’s mouth tightened. “You mean Dan?”
“Yes, and you need to apologize to him. He’s been amazing this week. But he’s not my only friend. There’s Missy at Pirellis’ and Jim from the Gazette.”
“And Harry Waxman?” Peter asked.
A rush of heat scuttled through Alice as it did every night at nine o’clock. So much for the new HRT patches she’d been using for a week. “And Stacey at the nursing home and many others. Sure, I came back
