Page 36 of The Hidden Daughter (The Lost Daughters #7)
It was no exaggeration to say that Amalie had spent many hours thinking about Oskar’s family, particularly his mother, and resenting the way she’d treated them.
She’d lain awake at night imagining what their life could have been if they hadn’t had to hide their love, banished by his family.
Oskar would never have set foot on that plane, they would never have been parted, and he would likely be sitting beside her right now cradling their baby daughter in his arms.
But now that his mother was here, Amalie had let all those thoughts go. Because she now saw his mother as the person standing between her being able to keep her baby or not, and she intended on doing anything and everything she could to convince her that she and the baby should stay together.
‘She’s just the loveliest little baby, Amalie,’ his mother said, rocking her on the chair beside Amalie’s bed. Amalie had been up a lot in the night nursing and holding her, so it was nice to have a little rest. ‘My boys were such big babies, but she’s perfectly delicate. Our little lady.’
Amalie’s ears pricked up at her comment. Our little lady. That’s what she’d said.
‘I, ah—’ Amalie began, knowing she would need to be careful with her words. ‘I just wanted to thank you for coming. When I wrote to you, I didn’t know whether you’d want to hear from me or not, but—’
‘Amalie, please,’ she said, no longer rocking and instead holding the baby still now that she was asleep.
‘We were wrong to treat you so harshly. You must understand that we had different hopes for Oskar. He was our son and we’d imagined a certain life for him, but I can see now that what he needed from us was our support, not our condemnation. ’
She listened, hope rising in her chest.
‘Oskar loved you, he made that abundantly clear to us before he left that fateful night, and I know that your daughter can’t replace him, but she’s part of my son. I can’t see her turned over to another family, Amalie. She’s all I have left of him.’
Her hope was almost immediately replaced with horror. She knew straightaway what was coming; knew that the olive branch she’d hoped for wasn’t at all what she’d expected.
‘Amalie, you’re a mother now, so I know you want what’s best for your daughter. Let me take her and raise her. She will want for nothing, and I know it’s what my Oskar would have wanted.’
‘Wanted?’ Amalie cried, her voice so pained that it woke her sleeping daughter.
She swung her legs from the bed and plucked her from Oskar’s mother’s arms before she had a chance to comfort her or scold Amalie for her loud words.
‘What Oskar wanted was for you to accept us and welcome me into your lives. If it weren’t for you, he would still be alive today, so don’t you dare talk to me about what’s best for my child! ’
His mother’s eyes filled with tears, but the set of her jaw told Amalie that she wasn’t backing down.
But neither was Amalie. She’d been right: Amalie was a mother now, and that meant that there was nothing she wouldn’t do to secure a future for her daughter, one that involved either her own mother raising her, or being given to a family who would love and cherish her. Not to this evil woman.
‘Amalie, that’s not fair.’
‘Not fair? Not fair is falling pregnant to a man I adored beyond words, and then having his family make it abundantly clear that I wasn’t good enough, that our love meant nothing,’ she fumed, jiggling her daughter as she cried.
‘Not fair is having the man I loved killed in a plane crash! A plane he was only on because he had to flee his family so that we could marry secretly in London!’
Amalie could barely breathe, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her hands shaking. And she’d never been so grateful to see anyone in her life when Hope came running into the room, out of breath likely from having to hurry up the staircase.
‘What’s happening in here?’ she asked, looking between them and seeing how distressed Amalie was. She immediately came to stand beside her, placing a protective hand on Amalie’s shoulder before turning to her house guest. ‘Perhaps it’s time for you to leave?’
Oskar’s mother began to cry then, a little hiccup of a tear that turned into chest-heaving sobs, and it only made Amalie more upset. This woman had lost her son, they shared the same grief, and yet they were still worlds apart.
‘The way I see it,’ Hope said, ‘is that you’re both grieving. And you have this beautiful baby who has two women in her life who could love her. But Amalie is her mother, and I won’t see her bullied into anything.’
Oskar’s mother’s tears were slowly subsiding, and Amalie whispered to her daughter, cradling her close and deciding to nurse her to comfort her.
‘Amalie, I’m sorry,’ Oskar’s mother said, wiping her eyes and her cheeks as she straightened her shoulders and faced her. ‘I loved my Oskar so very much, even if you didn’t get to see that love first hand, and I only want what’s best for the baby.’
‘So do I,’ Amalie whispered, careful not to scare her daughter again. ‘But what’s best for my child is to be with her mother, and nothing you say will convince me otherwise.’
Hope looked to her, giving Amalie the strength to continue.
‘If you want your granddaughter in your life, then you will have to accept me, too. You either welcome us both into your life, or neither of us.’
‘And if I was to do that, what exactly would you propose? This darling girl would still be a bastard in the eyes of—’
‘Don’t you say that word ever again about my daughter,’ Amalie said. ‘She is the daughter of your son. We were engaged to be married, and our wedding was to be within days of Oskar’s arrival, so I will not stand to hear such a thing said about her, as if she was a mistake or an afterthought.’
She fixed her gaze on Oskar’s mother.
‘I would ask that you give me a day or two to send a telegram to my husband,’ she said. ‘May I ask that you don’t make any decisions until then?’
‘You may,’ Amalie said, finding a strength she didn’t even know she possessed. ‘And until then, I would ask that you give me space to spend time with my daughter.’
It may have sounded cold, but she was starting to realise that the only way for her to receive respect was to act as if she held all the cards.
His mother stood, staring down at the now sleeping baby who was still nestled against Amalie’s breast. ‘Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow or the day after.’
Hope stood as well, to see her out, but when she reached the door, she turned around and gave Amalie a smile that imbued her with all the strength she needed not to burst into tears the moment she was alone in the room.
When Oskar’s mother returned two days later, it was as if she’d become a different woman.
She came with a bag full of tiny clothes that looked far more expensive than anything Amalie or her family could ever have afforded, and also with a wrapped gift for Amalie.
But it wasn’t just the things she’d brought, likely as peace offerings.
It was almost like a weight had lifted, that there was no longer such a divide between them.
Amalie slid her fingernail beneath the seal of the tissue paper parcel on her lap, surprised to find a beautiful lavender-coloured dress and a jacket to match, with striking gold buttons. The fabric felt almost buttery against her skin; more luxurious than anything she’d ever touched before.
‘Thank you,’ she said, eyes wide as she glanced up. Amalie had no idea where she might wear something so luxurious, but she was most grateful for the experience.
‘Amalie, I know we’ve had our differences, and I know that it will take a long time for you to trust me, especially after our last conversation,’ she said. ‘But will you return to Oslo with me? To our home? Will you let me look after you both?’
Tears filled Amalie’s eyes as she looked back at the woman who’d once been so cold towards her, and who was now her saviour. She had no idea why the sudden turnaround, but however it had happened, she was going to accept it.
‘Yes,’ Amalie said, holding her daughter to her chest and nuzzling her little downy head. ‘So long as we can stay together, we’ll return with you.’
Amalie hadn’t dared to hope, hadn’t wanted to dream that there might be a chance she wouldn’t be parted from her daughter.
But she’d been right to stand up for herself, to fight for what she knew was right.
It might have been hard at the time, but in the end, she’d received the respect she deserved.
‘When do we leave?’ Amalie asked. ‘Will we travel together?’
‘As soon as I can secure passage, we’ll return home,’ she said, looking as relieved as Amalie felt. ‘You don’t have to worry about anything, Amalie, we intend to take care of you, just as my Oskar would have done.’
‘Your husband, he agreed to this?’ Amalie asked, feeling a flicker of worry inside. ‘You’re certain that he’ll welcome me into your home? That he’ll accept me? Is that why you’re here?’
‘I received a telegram just this morning from him,’ she said. ‘We’ll have to discuss arrangements further once we’re home, but you have my word that you’ll be able to stay with your daughter, and we’ll support you so long as she remains a part of our lives.’
Amalie’s worries slowly lifted. There were so many reasons not to trust the woman standing before her, but she felt content in the idea of moving back to Norway—to speak her language, to be in a city, a country that she knew, where she didn’t feel like a fish out of water with no control over her own destiny.