Fortune's rocks_ a novel - Anita Shreve [154]
“My child was stolen from me,” Olympia says. “I have suffered greatly with this loss. I have thought about my son every single day since his birth and have wanted him with me. But until recently, I was not of an age nor was I in the proper circumstances to petition for the child’s return to me. Nor did I even know where he was, as this knowledge was kept from me all these years.”
Tucker nods encouragingly. And it occurs to Olympia then that something is profoundly missing from these proceedings. The boy himself. Her son. Though she would not wish him here, would not wish him to have to listen to any of this testimony, the event seems patently hollow without him.
“But I do not seek to have the child returned to me simply because I wish to have my ‘property’ restored,” Olympia says. “No, I believe that I shall be a good and loving mother for the boy, that I can offer the boy certain advantages in terms of comfort and education that are not normally available to all children.”
The intensity of Albertine Bolduc’s angry stare is almost more than Olympia can bear. She tries to focus only on Tucker’s face, his spectacles.
“Mr. Tucker, my heart aches for the loss of my son,” Olympia says with unfeigned passion. “Our separation has been unnatural and painful. I pray that the court will redress the terrible wrong that has been done both to me and to the boy and that we will one day be reunited, as God and Nature have meant us to be.”
Albertine Bolduc closes her eyes. Telesphore, who still has his arm around his wife, glares at Olympia with what can only be hatred. Tucker stands motionless, allowing Olympia’s words to settle over the courtroom.
“No further questions, Your Honor,” Tucker says, taking a seat.
And then Addison Sears is standing. “Your Honor, I have some questions I should like to put to the relator.”
“Yes, Mr. Sears, proceed.”
The portly Mr. Sears takes his time shuffling his notes as he approaches Olympia. It is so cold in the chamber that for a brief moment, Olympia can see the lawyer’s breath.
“Good morning, Miss Biddeford,” Sears says, not even looking at her, but rather at his notes.
“Good morning,” she says in a low voice.
Sears glances sharply up at her. “I think you will need to speak up, Miss Biddeford, or the court will not be able to hear you.”
And immediately, she understands that he is setting a pattern of scolding, of chastising the child. She raises her chin. “Good morning,” she repeats in a louder and clearer voice.
“Miss Biddeford, are you or have you ever been married?”
“No.”
“And if you were to receive custody of the boy, you would, of necessity, be forced to care for him as an unwed mother. Is this not true?”
“Yes,” she says simply.
“Miss Biddeford, you have told the court that before arriving at Fortune’s Rocks you were at school. But is it not true that directly before coming to Fortune’s Rocks, you were in fact in the employ of Averill Hardy of Tetbury, Massachusetts, and not, as you have said, at the Hastings School for Girls?”
The deliberate misnaming of the school is not lost on Olympia, nor, she imagines, on the judge. “Yes,” she says, “that is true. But as it was a summer work-study program administered by the Hastings Seminary for Females, it was considered part of my education at the seminary. It took place under the auspices of the staff there.”
“Yes, quite,” says Sears. “You were employed as governess to Mr. Hardy’s three sons, is that not correct?”
“Yes.”
“And is it not true that on twelve July of last year you abandoned this post? That you left these three boys without a tutor and did not even tell them you were leaving?”
“The circumstances were such that . . .”
“Did you not in fact leave Mr. Hardy’s employ under suspicious circumstances?”
“Your Honor.” Tucker is standing. “Mr. Sears is not allowing the witness to finish her answer.”
“Mr. Sears.”
Addison Sears makes a show of bowing slightly to the judge. When he turns back to Olympia,