R did not keep count of how much I earned.
Sometimes he would ask me for money and I would give him. I guess I wasn't
expecting much in return. I could afford to buy almost anything for myself, all
the toiletries I needed, even good clothes and a nice pair of shoes from time
to time. Well at the time that was my idea of abundance. I was happy and that
was all that mattered, 21 years old and didn't know better. Of course I was
happy. But there was so much stuff I would not be conscious off. Like a saying
goes in Romania: love goes through your stomach. We had what to eat, I was
providing that almost by myself, and didn't have a problem with that.The girls
would stay awake late at night waiting for me to bring them sweets home after
my shift in work. I always stopped to do some shopping before hailing a taxi
home. They grew really attached to me by that time, calling me mummy without me
asking them to. I cared about them, always loved children, especially girls,and
thats what they were: sweet little girls with a new mummy. I didn't have to ask
my husband for money ever, my tips at the restaurant equaled an extra salary
and I had the liberty to spend the money however I thought fit. By that time I
have managed to buy almost everything I would need for when our baby was born,
out of my own money. But I still hoped that the baby will be born in a foreign
country, really did not look forward to deliver in the local maternity
hospital. I could see thou that R is not happy with this condition, he wanted
to be the main provider, and that was part of the reason for which we had to
get away.
It was July I think when we met John. We were
walking together from my work to home, that day, me wearing my beautiful, long
flower-full green pregnancy dress. I remember the silk kept getting glued to my
legs, that s how warm it was. I was so proud of my belly, that I did not see
anyone on the same footpath with me, never mind the rest! R stopped cheerful to
talk to John, that was the first time I met him. Apparently they knew each other
a long time, John wife's sister shared a full love story with B' younger
brother. John and his wife and kid were home for holiday after three years. At
some point before this,John and R were both in London,before R deciding to come
back home to his daughters, and John and his pregnant wife moved to Dublin. R
was asking now a lot of questions, about how life is in Dublin and our chances
for seeking asylum seeker rights. I remember thinking : "this guy doesn't
really know what he's on about" (gosh, did i?) but hope made us believe
him. We did not met him again that summer, even if we made plans to.
Soon after that meeting, R found this guy who
sold fake passports for a thousand dollars each. He convinced his brother in
London to send the money. The plan was, he would try first, and if he makes it,
he would send me money to leave too. The plane ticket alone had cost him
another seven hundred dollars, money off his brother. He left with a connection
flight destination Casablanca, Morocco, with stop in London, where he would try
to leave the airport. But luck wasn't on our side. The guy who sold him the
passport was caught by the airport authorities in Bucharest, and R had to end
his flight to Casablanca, where he spend two full weeks. He would call me from
there every day, telling me is nothing there to do, asking me about the baby
and how I am. I wasn't good. We just lost another bunch of money but happy at
least he did not run into trouble. He arrived back home safe and tanned like a
proper Moroccan ! Once back, he traveled to the city that guy lived in, in the
other side of the country and convinced him to get him another false passport
without paying again. It wasn't easy but eventually he got another document
done and here we are paying for another flight to Casablanca. By that time, we
were both tired, disappointed, we kind of not cared anymore of what was going
to happen. We were done! We owed so much money, we could only try one more time
hoping this time God would help us. The mood in the house was unbearable: we
were all quiet, upset, we could not think of anything else. My mother in law,
who lived with us and the girls, kept praying and kept telling us,without
much conviction, that things will work out this time. R wasn't too
optimistic either but I seemed to believe, for reasons I could not explain,
that this time he s going to succeed. R was always more pessimistic than me, I
have always seen the half full of the glass, still am, and after a long time, I
finally had a good feeling.
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