Page 60 of Deep Blue Lies
“And why was that?” Sophia asks, looking up from the puppy. Papadakis looks at her, considering.
“The intention would have been to protect the child from knowing about the tragedy that befell its parents.”
“But that doesn’t really work, not if the child now knows who their parents are, but isn’t able to prove it?” Sophia asks him, her big eyes looking unblinking into his. He looks away first.
“No.” He’s silent for a moment, then turns to me. “Do you know for certain that you are this child?”
I shake my head. “No.”
He’s still a second, then turns back to Sophia. “Then you must appreciate it from the other perspective. If Ava here isnotthe child, what right would she have to expose the true parents of this young woman, potentially ruining her life, wherever she is now?”
“But what if it is her?”
“It may not be.”
“We’d know for sure if we could open the file.”
“No doubt. But no system is perfect.”
“But this is ridiculous,” Sophia goes on. “Ava has to wonder about this for the rest of her life, because you won’t tell her?”
“It isn’t that I won’t tell her. I can’t. For one thing, I am retired, but if I were still working I would have no more right than anyone else to read the file. If it has been sealed by a court, only a court can open it again.”
“And how easy would that be?” Maria cuts in.
For a moment there’s silence, then Papadakis turns to me.
“Is this not something you can understand from the other end, so to speak. How were you brought up? Is there no one who can tell you where it was you came from?”
I think of Karen – my mother – and what she would say if she could see me here. The distance I’ve come unmoors me from the moment. She’d be so mad that I’m doing this.
“No. Not easily, no.”
He touches a finger to his lip, disappointed.
“There must be something you can tell us?” Sophia asks now, the puppy forgotten. Papadakis looks at her, and thinks a while.
“Some details were widely known,” he says in the end. “It seems harmless for me to share what could be learned by a simple visit to the newspaper archives.” He gives a thin-lipped smile.
I wait, feeling the hope rise in me.
“I do remember the child was eventually moved to an orphanage on the mainland. I don’t know which one. I don’t know what happened after that. And beyond that I cannot say.”
“Because the records were sealed?”
“Because the records were sealed, and because I do not know.”
“And that’s it? That’s all you can say?” Sophia presses, and he lifts his palms again.
“I am sorry, I recognise the difficult position you are in, and I have some sympathy. But I don’t see there is anything else I can do to help.”
He puts his cup and saucer back on the table with an air of finality. That’s it. Sympathy is all I’m going to get, but it’s not enough. I feel this whole chapter ending, and without any resolution. And there’s one thing above all that’s hurting me about that.
“Do you know her name?” I hear myself suddenly blurting out. “Everything I’ve heard about her, everything I’ve found out. It’s always ‘her’ or even ‘it’. No one ever says her name. No one even seems to know it. If I really was that child, it would mean something to know what my mother called me.”
He looks at me a long while, his eyes not blinking. Then he turns to Maria.
“Do you remember?” he asks. She looks at me, shaking her head.
