Why didnt you find me sooner?
Brian stayed late at the office. His deputy was on a business trip, the secretary wouldnt return from sick leave until tomorrow, and he had to finish the paperwork for a very lucrative contract himself. His wife, Ivy, had called twice, asking reproachfully where he was and whether she would have to cook dinner alone tonight. He didnt feel like going to a restaurant. Never mind, Ivy, he thought, youre not overworking yourself at home anyway. He smiled to himself and turned off the lights. The building was empty, every door shut, except for the one at the far end of the corridor. Did someone else stay late? he wondered and went to check. Inside he found only the nightshift cleaner.
She wore a blue overall and paused, mop in hand, when she heard his steps.
Good evening, Brian said, about to leave, when something about her face caught his eye.
Good evening, the cleaner replied softly, leaning on her mop.
His mind raced. Harriet? he blurted.
Harriet, she confirmed, her gaze steady.
***
Harriet, what are you playing at? Stop stringing yourself along, Brian said, pulling her close by the waist and trying to kiss her.
Let go, Brian! Harriet struggled, throwing her head back. I said let go! She clawed at his hands in desperation.
Do you even understand what youre refusing? Brian snapped, shaking her wrist away. Money, clothes, everything you want will be yours.
I dont want anything from you. I dont love you, I cant be with you, Harriet snapped, fleeing toward her room.
Fine, youll regret this, Brian muttered, strolling back to another room where laughter and guitar chords floated out. Sam, pour a drink, he called to one of his mates, draining a glass of cheap red wine.
Unlike the students at the small afterhours party, Brian didnt live in a dorm; he only dropped by for a good time. He had first noticed Harriet a year earlier, when she started her first year at university. While other girls swooned over his attention, Harriet barely acknowledged him. When he invited her to the cinema, she politely declined. That was new to Brian, who had always gotten what he wantedthanks to wealthy parents who could afford it. As he grew older he realised that many women were attracted to a promising husband, and he took advantage of that. So when Harriet turned him down, he was unaccustomed to rejection.
He tried again and again, taking her to expensive restaurants he assumed a country girl had only seen on film, offering rides in his brandnew cara birthday gift from his father. Each time Harriet refused, and Brians frustration grew into obsession. He began to stalk her, waiting for her in the corridors of the student hall.
Harriet, however, was focused on her studies. Her modest parents had always told her that education was the only road to a better life. She had no patience for Brians arrogance.
One evening she left the cinema with friends and decided to head back to the hall. Brians car pulled up beside her abruptly.
Hop in, need a lift? he said with a smile.
Thanks, Ill walk, Harriet replied calmly.
Come on, I know you wont date me, Brian said, trying to sound conciliatory. Its getting dark, its not safe to walk alone. His tone seemed friendly, as if he finally realised that chasing her was pointless. After a moments hesitation Harriet accepted.
Wait, we should have taken the right road, she said when Brian missed the turn.
Are you in a hurry? Lets enjoy the ride, he replied with a grin.
Im in a hurry. Pull over, Harriet demanded, pulling a cheap mobile from her bag. Ill call.
Call who? Dont be ridiculous, Brian snatched the phone and tossed it out the window. Ill buy you a new one later, he winked.
Harriet pleaded, but the car kept speeding through the night until it stopped in a wooded area outside the city. Resistance was useless.
Here, you can buy a new phone, Brian tossed a handful of notes onto her lap as dawn broke and the car finally turned back toward the hall. Harriet stared at him, her eyes full of loathing. Dont you dare threaten me. You know what my fathers connections are, Brian warned. Harriet turned away, opened the door, and stepped out. The money hed thrown slid onto a thin sheet of ice that covered the autumn puddles.
Harriet kept her ordeal to herself, ashamed to speak of it. She threw herself even harder into her coursework.
Harriet, you need to rest. Your studies wont disappear, her friends urged, trying to coax her out for a coffee. She only shook her head.
Later she discovered she was pregnant. She missed the deadline for an abortion. The plan was to keep quiet, hide the baby, finish her exams, and return home for the summer saying she had found a parttime job. She hoped to give birth, write a refusal letter, and resume her studies. By luck the baby was due in August, and the pregnancy remained invisible under loose clothing for most of the term. Still, she feared the child might be harmed.
When exams ended, Harriet moved from the hall into a room she had found in a shared flat on the outskirts of town. Money was tight, so she took a job as a cleaner in a nearby café. In midAugust she gave birth to a little girl, Violet, and handed the baby over to the hospital without ever looking at her. The staff told her she would be discharged the next morning. Fear and sleeplessness kept her awake; she kept wondering whether the baby was a boy or a girl, never touching her belly or talking to the child.
One night she slipped out of the ward to avoid waking her roommate and went to the window at the end of the corridor to breathe fresh air.
Poor thing, shell have a tough life, a hushed voice whispered from the open door of the oncall nurses station.
Did anyone tell the mother? a second, quieter voice asked.
She wont listen. Shes already signed the refusal form. Shell be out tomorrow after the checkup, the first voice replied.
Harriet realized the nurses were talking about her. She was in Ward 107, sharing the space with a mother who had just delivered a boy.
Maybe someone will adopt her, shes healthy, the nurse muttered. A disabled child isnt wanted in many homes.
Harriet could no longer stay silent. She pushed the door open.
Whats wrong with her? she demanded.
The nurse, a middleaged woman with a tired smile, said, Cerebral palsy. Its not always obvious at birth, but the signs are there. Who will look after a child like that without a mother?
A younger nurse added, Shell need a lot of care. A mother who abandons her wont get any support.
Harriet left the room, the words echoing in her mind. She spent the night awake, and in the morning she asked to see her daughter.
The condition can be treated, especially if caught early, the doctor said gently, glancing at Violet. We can start therapy right away.
Harriet looked at her newborn,
