Catherine Miller

All That Is Left Of Us


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       Title Page

       Author Bio

       Acknowledgements

       Dedication

       Prologue

       Chapter 7

       Chapter 8

       Chapter 9

       Chapter 10

       Chapter 11

       Chapter 12

       Chapter 13

       Chapter 14

       Chapter 15

       Chapter 16

       Chapter 17

       Chapter 18

       Chapter 19

       Chapter 20

       Chapter 21

       Chapter 22

       Chapter 23

       Chapter 24

       Chapter 25

       Chapter 26

       Chapter 27

       Chapter 28

       Chapter 29

       Excerpt

       Endpages

       About the Publisher

      Prologue

       Dear Archie,

       On the day you were born, nothing prepared me for the life we would lead together. There was no sense of future in that moment. Only us. And every day since I have wondered if it is ever enough. If I can ever give you all the love required to pave the way.

       Because right from the start I didn’t know what I was up to. And every day since I have questioned everything I’ve ever done.

       I just need you to know that, despite it all, you are loved. You have always been my first love and that is all that should ever matter.

       But I am being a surrogate for all of us. For your auntie and uncle to have a family as complete as ours. I hope that one day you’ll understand why it was so important to do this. And none of it will change the fact that you are my number one.

       Love, Mum x

      ***

       To my unborn child,

       There has not been a day when I haven’t thought about you, but so often you have been a concept. With each of the five miscarriages I had you were more and more unreachable. You had become an impossibility. And yet here you are in this most improbable way.

       I may not be the one holding you, but I want to be more than you could ever imagine. To savour those moments that are ours. And as they get closer I am beginning to believe maybe this is the occasion where nothing goes wrong. The time that you become whole and I get to become your mother.

       There is nothing I want more and yet there is nothing further out of reach.

       I’m counting the days until we meet,

       Rebekah, your mum-to-be xxxx

      

      Dawn was thirty-six weeks and two days pregnant with a baby that would never be hers. She knew exactly how far along she was because she was counting. She just couldn’t work out if she was marking off the days until freedom or savouring the remaining hours as a surrogate.

      This evening’s class was for Rebekah’s benefit. Dawn’s sister-in-law was the real mother of the baby she was carrying. Rebekah was the one needing to know what to expect of labour even if she wasn’t going to be going through it herself. Dawn was pretty certain the process of labour hadn’t changed significantly since she last went through it a decade ago, but in some ways this labour had more at stake than her own, so the refresher wasn’t going to hurt.

      And tonight was an opportunity for Rebekah to pretend.

      ‘This is stupid. I can’t believe you managed to get hold of this.’ Rebekah buttoned the maternity shirt she was borrowing over her fake foam bump.

      ‘It was from the props store. They use it for the teen pregnancy talks although I’m not too sure how much good it’s done. It doesn’t really demonstrate the true burden you endure once the baby arrives.’ Triffic. There Dawn goes putting her foot in it again. ‘When you’re a teenager.’ As she had been. Rebekah was in an altogether better position than when Dawn had had Archie at seventeen. She’d really lost the knack of saying the right thing around her sister-in-law these days.

      ‘This little one will never be a burden. They couldn’t be more wanted. Now, how does pregnancy suit me?’ Rebekah turned, the foam bump making her a silhouette of blooming motherhood.

      ‘Much better than it does me.’ Dawn was trying not to grumble, but in these final, ankle-swelling, ache-infested weeks she was counting down until her due day. Soon she would have her body back. Soon she would make Rebekah a mother. Twenty-six days left of being a surrogate mum.

      ‘Do you mind if we don’t tell David about this? It’s just…’ Rebekah didn’t finish the sentence and Dawn was able to fill in the blank.

      It would concern him. Like this whole process had concerned Dawn’s brother. From the moment he’d fallen in love with Rebekah and they’d spent month after month trying to conceive, right through to finding out why Rebekah was so susceptible to miscarriage, Dawn had ridden the wave of heartache alongside her twin brother. So when it was clear Rebekah wouldn’t be able to have a successful pregnancy, without a second thought Dawn had volunteered. It was about time she made her role as the