Victor got home later than usual, and Emma, his wife, had been waiting anxiously, already fearing something had gone wrong on the road. Their little boy, Charlie, whined, Wheres Daddy? Wheres Daddy?
At last two bright yellow vans lit up the driveway of the Whitfield cottage, and the men stepped out.
Daddy! Hooray, youre here! Charlie leapt from the stove, hopping on one foot, trying to slip into his boot while tugging his coat along.
Where are you off to, you little lunatic? Its cold and nights fallinggo warm yourself by the fire; Fatherll be in a minute.
Charlie pouted, his lips puckering, ready to burst into tears.
Dont cry, Im talking to you, Emma snapped, Father will be here any moment.
Victor still hadnt entered.
Whats he doing in there? Emma wondered aloud, Hes drunk, perhaps? Charlie, stay inside; Ill go check.
Mum, Im scared, whimpered Charlie.
What on earth are you frightened of? Sit still, I told you.
As Emma draped a shawl over her shoulders and scolded Charlie, the cottage door swung open, and a plume of steam rushed in. In that cloud Victor stumbled forward, not alone.
By the hearth stood a young woman, about eighteen, wrapped in a faded coat with a black velvet collar, her huge grey eyes halfcovered by a fringe of hair.
Come in, come in, Lily. Tom, help the guest settle down, Emma said, not quite understanding herself, and helped the girl remove her coat.
Lily was heavily pregnant, wobbling as if she were a plump autumn duck about to fall. She made her way to the kitchen table, sat down, and folded her thin, chilled hands in her lap.
Charlie peeked timidly from behind the stove.
Wheres my son? Victor barked, Nicholas, why are you standing there? Bring the boy over What did Father bring? Victor snatched Charlie from the stove and hoisted him up to the ceiling beams. You, Mum, get something to eat. We wont starve ourselves out.
Later that night, as Charlie drifted to sleep, Victor muttered something low, Emma whispered in reply, disagreeing silently while the visitor sobbed quietly.
By morning the whole village knew that Victor Whitfield had brought his younger, pregnant sister.
Some bloke abandoned her; her parents are long gone, what do you do with a girl like that? Emma told her friends over a glass of ale at the barn.
Didnt you say Victor was an orphan? one asked.
If you have no parents, youre not an orphan, Emma replied. Where did the sister come from?
She grew up in a childrens home, Emma answered, Anything else, Akelyn? Maybe youre jealous of the husband?
Go on, Tom, Akelyn retorted, stop prattling.
Soon Lily, Charlies aunt, decided to give birth. Victors father drove her to the district hospital, and shortly after a tiny sister appearedMilly. Lily never returned.
She died, Emma said curtly, cutting off any further question.
Milly was a small, rosycheeked bundle, a perfect little doll. Charlie had seen a similar doll in his neighbour Sues house, calling it Antoshka, and now he had his own living doll.
I dont know what you want, Victor, Charlie protested, I dont need her here.
What? Tom? Victor blurted, Shes a living child, blood and all
Ive given you my word, Emma replied, Do whatever you like with her.
Why are you being so harsh? Victor asked. What am I supposed to do with her? Send her to a home or throw her into a river?
I dont mind either way, Emma shrugged.
No, Milly shouldnt go to a home or be drowned, Charlie shouted, Mum, please, keep Milly, Ill look after her myself.
Get out, you useless lad, Emma waved, but Charlie clung to the hem of her skirt, swearing in a desperate plea to spare his little sister.
Victor sat silently, his head bowed.
Fine, do what you will, he muttered. Emma turned and slipped out into the hedgerows.
Charlie crouched beside Milly, who slept sweetly in a thin blanket, unaware that her fate was being decided. He whispered tenderly, calling her sunshine, then baby.
Charlies sleep was uneasy; he kept dreaming that his mother would toss Milly away.
Sleep on, you scamp, I wont do anything to your Milly, his mother hissed, while Charlie stared at her suspiciously, fearing she might drown his sister.
The neighbours would often call Milly the girl and Emma would laugh, What a funny little thing, she never leaves the babys side.
Ill find a nanny next year when Charlie goes to school, Emma mused, Well manage.
And so they lived. Victor worked as a mechanic, Emma milked the cows, and Charlie and Milly grew up together.
Charlie would sprint home from school, arms spread wide, scooping up his toddling sister on his skinny legs. The other children in the hamlet all called Milly the girl.
She grew into a fine young woman. Charlie later joined the army, and Millys cries echoed through the night as he left.
He raised her, cared for her, like a father and mother, the village women would say, Emmas a bit rough, Victors a loner, but the children turned out all right.
When Millys brother returned from his service, hed spent a month getting his act together, taken a driving job, brought her home, and watched to see if she approved. She did, and soon they were engaged.
Charlie married, and the girl blossomed into a beautiful lady. She went to the city to study, but first visited her brothers house before returning home.
Milly knew she was the niece of both Victor and Emma, and nobody tried to hide it; they loved her as their own, sparing her any hard memories. Sometimes she even felt Emma loved her more than Charlie did.
Milly qualified as a doctor and returned to the village, found a good husband, and raised children of her own.
The elders grew old, and Victors time came to depart. Emma, now frail, passed the care of Milly to her mother, despite resistance.
One night, Milly awoke hearing a faint voice call, Mum?
Whats wrong, love? Thirsty? Hurt?
Sit, sit, dear, Emma coaxed.
Im sorry, Milly.
What for? Milly asked, bewildered.
For everything. I never meant to send you to a home
Didnt you think I was just a niece? Im your daughter
How?
Just a girl, love. I dont know where Victor met Lily, or what happened with your mother, but it seems love twisted everything. He brought her back, confessed all.
Everyone said his younger sister was a homemaker, looked after Nicholas, then left to give birth and never returned.
Did you take your husbands lover? Milly asked.
I did, dear, I took her in. She was pregnant, had a baby, and I thoughtwhat else could I do? I wanted a child of my own, so you came
Who made that happen?
God, perhaps.
Mum
Ive lived a life of regret
The girl you speak of is an orphan, same name as your mother. Yours is alive, younger than me by about ten years
How?
She left you, walked away.
Mum
Forgive me, love, I couldnt keep the secret, it was unfair to you. You have relativescousins, aunts, uncles, plenty. My brother Charlie is the best brother I could ever wish for, and you have Aunt Kate and Uncle Victor, plenty of kin. My love gave you a huge family, even if I didnt give you birth, I gave you life.
My dear child my child
Emma lived a little longer, then passed peacefully, smiling at Victor.
Now, as an older woman, Emma told MillyMarian Whitfieldthe story of her life within their big, tangled family.
Dont measure your life by other peoples standards, Marian said, You never know how fate will turn. My own spirit was stubborn, but I made it.
She always tipped her hat to her mother, grateful for the strange, winding road that led them all here.
