Page 51 of Darling Girls

Miss Fairchild was showered and dressed in a fresh white top and jeans. Her hair was wet from the shower. She peered down at the baby, who was sleeping peacefully.

‘I found the off switch.’ Jessica smiled. ‘Took a while, but we got there.’

Miss Fairchild didn’t return her smile. ‘Well, well,’ she said tightly. ‘Aren’t you clever?’

Jessica was still groggy, that was the problem. She hadn’t meant to offend Miss Fairchild. And yet somehow she’d unwittingly suggested that she had a skill Miss Fairchild lacked, or that she was better with the baby. But it was too late to correct her mistake; the damage was done.

‘I think she just got worn out from all the crying,’ Jessica said desperately. She felt like she might cry herself.

Miss Fairchild glared at her. She was still a young woman, but faint lines had started to appear in her cheeks, slanting downwards. They looked especially pronounced today. ‘Or maybe perfect Jessica just had the magic touch? Why not? Jessica is perfect at everything.’

Jessica struggled for something to say, but nothing occurred to her.

‘Since you’re so perfect,’ Miss Fairchild said, ‘why don’t you look after Rhiannon from now on?’

‘But I have school,’ Jessica reminded her.

‘Not anymore,’ Miss Fairchild said, and she stalked out of the room.

‘How do you make a baby alien go to sleep?’ Alicia said.

It had been a week since Rhiannon became Jessica’s full-time responsibility. Feeding, burping, bathing, soothing, all of it. Miss Fairchild didn’t even reach for her anymore. It was as if the baby had been sullied. As if she didn’t exist. Luckily, Norah and Alicia were willing to share the burden.

‘You rocket.’

Jessica and Norah were too tired even to laugh. They hadn’t been to school in a week, instead working in shifts, pacing the floor with Rhiannon as she howled. Norah was unexpectedly good with her. She’d borrowed a book about babies from the local library and they’d started tilting her crib at a slight angle, to help with reflux. If they got it exactly right, occasionally she stopped crying long enough to sleep.

Every now and then, Miss Fairchild stuck her head in the room to glare at them, as if the baby’s presence was their fault instead of hers. After a while, Jessica became too tired even to feel hurt by it.

They all developed a ringing in their ears from the crying. They started walking with a bounce in their step, whether they were holding the baby or not. The house went to hell. Chores didn’t get done and the laundry piled up. Miss Fairchild let it go, perhaps aware that they had nothing left to give.

The following week, when Scott arrived to take Rhiannon home, no one was upset.

‘Bye,’ they called from the door, while Miss Fairchild walked Scott and Rhiannon to the car.

They’d just fallen onto the couch, fantasising about the full night of sleep that awaited them, when Miss Fairchild returned.

‘This place is a pigsty,’ she said. ‘No one sleeps until it’s spick-and-span.’

Two weeks later, when they came downstairs for breakfast, there was another baby in Miss Fairchild’s arms.

‘Shh,’ Miss Fairchild said. ‘She’s sleeping.’

‘Am I having déjà vu?’ Norah muttered. ‘Or is this a nightmare?’

This baby was older than Rhiannon, maybe a year old, with masses of dark brown hair. One of her eyes was covered with a white surgical patch.

‘Her name is Bianca.’

‘What happened to her eye?’ Jessica asked.

‘Her stepfather happened.’ Something flickered and tightened in Miss Fairchild’s jaw. For a moment they were all silent, watching the poor baby sleep.

‘I need one of you girls to get the bus to the pharmacist for fresh gauze and bandages for her eye. Then head to the op shop and buy whatever you can find in her size. I have a voucher for formula and nappies over there on the dining table.’

‘I’ll do it,’ Jessica said. She was still wary of Miss Fairchild after what had happened with Rhiannon, but there was also something about being needed that she was helpless to resist.

‘It’s unimaginable, isn’t it?’ Miss Fairchild said, looking from Jessica to Norah to Alicia. ‘To think that someone would hurt a child.’ She shook her head, lowering her gaze back to the baby.