New Page 1 SONG LYRIC CREDITS 10: Where Are You Now (Roxus), Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Me (Elton John), Smoke (Natalie Imbruglia).

Chapter 10

Rachel had been undecided as to whether to have a naming ceremony for the baby, but she figured it might cheer Jack up, as well as her other friends who were still stunned by Alex's death. The identification of the murderer had been a cold comfort, and it seemed the only time Jack was more than a shadow of his former self was in the presence of his lover's namesake.

In order to satisfy her father, who had been subtly hinting at it for a while now, Rachel decided on a mostly Jewish ceremony, but at home, and with Jack and Helen as godfather and godmother, or *fairy* godmother, as Helen had joked.

The rabbi welcomed everyone, and recited the ritual prayers both in Hebrew and English, for the benefit of the non-Jewish guests. Then Felix made a small speech, before the washing of the baby's feet, as Rachel recited another ritual prayer.

"We declare that her name shall be Aliza Rebecca bat Rachel v' Francis. And we shall call her Alex Rebecca Frances," Rabbi Cohen intoned.

Rachel then stepped forward again. She had spent hours perfecting this speech, and she hoped it went down well.

"Alex Rebecca Frances has been named after three very special people. Firstly, she is named for Alex St Clare, who was a great friend of mine. We first met when we served together at Rose Bay Police Station. She was a promising recruit who became a very dedicated officer. The streets and waters of Sydney are a lot safer because of her contribution."

A few people wiped their eyes; wounds were still raw. Jack remained expressionless.

"Alex is also named for my mother, Rebecca Friedman," Rachel continued. "She saw her whole family die during the holocaust when she was just five years old, but she survived the concentration camp at Buchenwald and was rescued by an Australian soldier. She was brought to Australia and adopted, where she eventually met my father."

"Finally, Alex is named for her father, Francis James Holloway, who I am sure would be here with us if he could be, except he is busy circumnavigating the world, having absolutely no idea how much I miss him," Rachel finished with a wry grin. A chuckle emanated from the group. Even Jack smiled, just a little.

The ceremony was concluded with speeches from both the godparents, and a prayer from Rabbi Cohen.

Little Ali, who had remained uncharacteristically silent throughout the ritual, began to bawl.

"She's Frank's, isn't she?" Helen remarked wryly.

~~ * ~~

Not being allowed to drive gave Rachel a first hand experience of Sydney's public transport system.

It wasn't great. Especially with a newborn.

She wasn't quite sure if pushing a shopping trolley came under the list of things she wasn't supposed to do yet, but she certainly wasn't having her father or Helen doing her shopping for her.

Rachel wheeled slowly up and down the aisles of the supermarket. Ali gurgled happily in her carry seat, while nappies, baby clothes, and all the other "baby necessities", as well as TV dinners, coffee and other basic food items filled the basket.

As she was about finished traversing the last aisle, Rachel spotted a rather cheerfully decorated photo album, all in pastel pinks and blues. She wasn't particularly attracted to the colour scheme, but the idea was not a bad one--she needed a photo album. She picked up another album, this one featuring a cartoon sun with the caption "Some people stay in our hearts forever."

Cute, she thought wryly.

More importantly, it seemed cost effective. She turned back to make sure there wasn't a better priced one she had missed.

On the second top shelf, she saw another album, this one entitled simply, "Baby Book". She seemed to remember having one of those for David, so she picked it up and flicked through it. There was space for every milestone you could think of: birth weight, first word, first steps. It was one of those things that was always good to pull out and reminisce over. And it was something for Frank.

She paid for her purchases and lugged them and the baby back to the bus stop, seriously considering buying one of those grocery carriages old ladies always seemed to have.

~~ * ~~

Rachel fought her way off the hot, smelly, crowded bus at the stop closest to her house, which still entailed a ten-minute walk to her front door. Or rather, a two minute walk that took ten minutes while carrying three bags of shopping and pushing a pram.

By the time she got home, Rachel was seriously convinced her doctor was loopy. Three weeks until she could drive again.

Ali had fallen asleep in the pram, so Rachel manoeuvred the pram upstairs with her in it. The bumpy ride up the stairs didn't wake her, but as luck would have it, as soon as her mother left the room, Ali woke up and began bawling.

"Shh, darling, shh," Rachel soothed, and she quietened a bit, but she still whimpered miserably. Her nappy didn't need changing, and she wasn't due for a feed. She was just lonely, wanting attention.

So am I, thought Rachel.

During the day, she had the baby to occupy her, but Ali wasn't exactly a great conversationalist. Her friends were wonderful, and they visited her often, but there was still many a lonely gap in her day. Now she remembered why she'd gone back to work so soon after David; Jonathon had been engrossed in his secretary by then, and the boredom had nearly killed her.

The baby fell asleep as suddenly as she'd woken. Rachel carefully put her back in her cot and tiptoed out of the room.

She really wished she could go to the pub. The nights were the worst, when there was nothing but the television to keep her occupied. She longed for intelligent conversation.

Without you here, the nights are never ending
I still see your face wherever I go
I close my eyes across a million miles of broken dreams
And pray your restless soul will bring you back again to me

Instead, she put away the shopping.

She pulled the baby book out of the shopping bag, picked up a pen and sat down on the couch.

The first space to fill in was the baby's name. Rachel wrote "Alex Rebecca Frances", then chewed the end of her pen.

Finally, she added "Holloway".

~~ * ~~

An infant wail drove its way through Rachel's dreamless sleep. Midnight feeding time. She dragged herself out of bed, wondering if she'd had a full nights sleep in the last two months.

She thought daggers at Frank. Jonathon had refused to get up for midnight feedings, but at least he'd been *there*. Physically, at least.

Where are you now, are you missing me tonight?
Or does someone else hold you tight?
Take a look around, are you just too blind to see
No one could love you more than me

She still hadn't had a letter or postcard. Three months was an awfully long time to forget to write. She worried he'd met some bad weather and gotten shipwrecked or something. Then again, perhaps he'd found himself a Miss World and shacked up with her.

What frustrated her most was the lack of closure. If she could believe he was coming back for sure, she'd be fine. Even if she knew he wasn't, she could come to terms with that too, and get on with her life.

I can't light no more of your darkness
All my pictures seem to fade to black and white
I'm growing tired and time stands still before me
Frozen here on the ladder of my life

It was the waiting that was unbearable.

And then, the next afternoon, as if by magic, a letter arrived.

Dear Rachel,

How are you? I'm sorry it's been this long, but I've just been across a rather large stretch of water with no stops. I was so bored some days I nearly jumped overboard! I'd actually intended to sail straight through the Panama Canal to Venezuela, but I ran short of a few supplies, and here I am in Piura, Peru.

Oh well, at least it gave me a chance to write to you earlier than I would have otherwise. Rach, you can't imagine how much I miss you.

"I beg to differ," Rachel muttered.

I've been keeping myself going by imagining what it's going to be like when I come home. I'll transfer to some other station, that way Jeff can't get all funny about us being together. And I'm not going to let you push me away anymore, either. That's a promise! It's a pity we won't be partners anymore, but whoever you're working with, I'm sure you're used to them by now. I'll have to get used to a new partner too. Maybe I'll even get to drive once in a while!

"Maybe once!"

Oh, well, listen to me, making all these plans, when you've probably forgotten all about me by now. I'm running out of room, anyway. See ya.

Francis James Holloway

Rachel carefully folded the letter up and put it back in its envelope. She began to cry, tears dropping off of her face like raindrops. She couldn't even tell whether she was happy to have finally heard from him, or disturbed by his lack of faith in her.

The baby, who had been in her arms happily consuming her evening meal stopped sucking and looked up at her mother confusedly. Mothers weren't supposed to cry! Were they?

Where are you Dad?
Mum's looking sad.
What's up with that?
It's dark in here.

Rachel almost laughed at the look on her daughter's face. "It's okay, darling," she said softly. "Daddy's okay."

~~ * ~~

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