Chapter 33
— Elspeth on the Stand
Elspeth walked to the stand slowly, her hands clasped tight in front of her, and I could see the effort it took her to keep her composure, because she was not a woman who liked to speak in public, and she was about to tell a courtroom the most private story of her life. She was Meredith's sister, and she had the same steady eyes Meredith had, and the same way of choosing her words carefully, as if each one mattered, and when she took the oath her voice was soft but clear, and I found myself leaning forward a little, as if I could lend her some of my strength from across the room. Oliver began gently, asking her where she lived, and how long she had lived there, and then he asked her about the night she had adopted a baby, and she took a breath, and she began.
She told the court that she lived in Wilmington, and that six years ago, on the same night Poppy was born, she had adopted a premature baby girl in that hospital, a tiny baby who had needed care and warmth and time, and whom she had named Maisie. She said that the adoption had been arranged quickly, and that the papers had been signed by the baby's mother and by the baby's grandmother, and that she had kept those papers ever since, in a folder in her own home, because they were Maisie's story, and she had always intended to tell Maisie the truth when she was old enough to understand it. She said that she had not known, at first, who the baby's mother was, beyond a young woman in the next room, and that she had learned the name only later, when Meredith's notebook and Rosalind's account had joined the pieces together, and when Marlene had come forward and confirmed what she had signed.
Oliver asked her about Maisie now, and Elspeth's face softened, and she spoke about a gentle, curious six-year-old who loved books and gardens, and who had played with Poppy in our garden only a few days before, under the big tree, supervised and safe, two little girls who had laughed together and shared toys and had no idea of the history that bound them. She said that Maisie was happy, and loved, and that Elspeth had raised her as her own daughter, and that she would continue to do so, and that she had come here not to claim anything for herself, but to tell the court the truth about where Maisie had come from, and about what Veronica had done. She said that she had watched Veronica's fixation on Poppy grow, that she had seen the way Veronica spoke about Poppy's hair, and about her appearance, and about making her presentable, and that it had frightened her, because it had sounded less like love and more like control. Oliver asked her what Maisie knew, and Elspeth said Maisie knew she was loved, and that she had been adopted, in the simple way a six-year-old can understand, and that the rest could wait until she was older. She said she had kept every paper, and every letter, because a child deserved to know where she came from, and because the truth, told kindly, was better than silence.
Then Oliver asked her the question that mattered most, about the adoption papers, and Elspeth said that Marlene had signed them together with her daughter, and that the papers were clear, and that Veronica had given up her parental rights that night, freely, in the hospital, and had walked away from the baby who would become Maisie. She said that a woman who had given up one child could not now claim to be the de facto mother of another, and that Veronica's claim to Poppy rested on a form obtained by deception, not on any real history of mothering. Her voice did not rise, and she did not look at Veronica as she said it, and that quietness made her words land harder than any shouting could have.
Veronica's lawyer cross-examined her, and he pressed her on the papers, on the dates, on whether she could be certain the baby she had adopted was Veronica's, and Elspeth answered each question steadily, referring to the documents, to Marlene's written statement, to the hospital bracelet and the photograph, and to the fact that she had been there that night, and had held the baby herself. He asked if she was angry with Veronica, and she said that she was sad, more than angry, sad for the baby who had been given away, and sad for Poppy, who had been frightened, and that sadness was why she was here. He asked if she had coached Maisie to play with Poppy, and she said no, that the girls had played together because they liked each other, and because children do not carry the burdens adults put on them, and that she hoped it would stay that way.
When Elspeth stepped down, she walked back to her seat beside Rosalind, and the two women sat close together, and I felt the room settle again, as if the court had heard something it could not unhear. The judge made a long note, and Oliver stood, and he called Dolores, and I thought of Poppy at home, waiting with Dolores only a little while ago, and I thought of how much I owed the woman who had been there for my daughter when I could not be, and I hoped the court would hear her as clearly as I had.