Auntie Sally, Ive nowhere else to go, she sobbed, her voice cracking with bitter tears. Please forgive me, I wont do it again. She never really explained where shed been or what shed done, but she looked miserable enough.
We took her back in, even though I wasnt thrilled about it. After all, she was Lucys mother a lost orphan whod drifted in and out of the system.
Id always been the quiet sort, a proper bookworm from the first day I could hold a crayon. As a kid I never caused a fuss, never got into mischief; Id simply sit in the corner with my novels. My grandmother used to chide me, Arthur, why dont you run about with the other lads in the yard? My mother would snap back, Leave him be, Mum. Let him read better than turning into the neighbourhood troublemaker, Vicky, who landed on the police record at twelve. I learned early that keeping my head down was the safest way to avoid family squabbles. My father was never in the picture, at least not on the birth certificate.
I threw myself into biology, and the world around me became a blur. Girls, frankly, never held my interest.
Arthur, do you ever plan on getting married? Having grandchildren for me to spoil? my mother, Margaret, asked when I turned twentysix, her voice dripping with impatience.
Mum, everything in its own time, I shrugged.
My research project at the Cambridge Institute of Biological Sciences was at its peak; everyone was buzzing about it, and I had no energy for courtship.
Margaret sighed heavily. Shed always admired my looks and my brain, but shed lamented that I was a bit of a loner.
Then, a year later, I surprised her by bringing Emily home.
Mum, meet my fiancée. The weddings in a month, I said, flat as a board.
Alright then Come on in, lets have a look, she replied.
I never mentioned that I was already engaged, paperwork filed at the registry office, nothing more. Emily wasnt exactly what Margaret had imagined: she was thin, her hair a chaotic tumble of black with a streak of blue, a tiny ring in her nose and a tattoo on her wrist. She was only twentythree.
It turned out shed been working as a waitress in the café where Id celebrated the projects success with my colleagues, and she didnt have a steady job. Yet Margaret soon felt sorry for her her parents had died, a distant relative had taken the flat, and shed been drifting from one friends couch to another, hungry and exhausted. Margarets heart softened, and she even began to like her.
Emily moved in with us, and life settled into a quiet routine. There were no kitchen battles, no clashing over whod do the dishes. Emily didnt care much for housework, but she helped Margaret whenever she asked, never making a fuss.
I was mostly indifferent to meals or clothes, but Margaret made sure I was fed and dressed. For six months everything was calm, until one day Emily simply vanished.
Nothing was stolen, her few belongings stayed behind, but her phone was switched off and I didnt really know any of her friends. Id never seen my son I mean, I get this rattled before. I missed work for two days, calling hospitals and morgues, then filing a report with the police. It was as if shed dropped into a river and was swept away.
A month later she turned up at the front door, blushing shyly.
Im sorry, Arthur. And you too, Auntie Sally. I needed time alone life got tangled, she said.
I rushed to hug her while Margaret stared at her, trying to read any sign of trouble. She didnt look like a woman whod been drinking away days or bearing bruises. Perhaps shed truly needed a break. The main thing was that I was happy again.
Two weeks after that, Emily announced she was pregnant. Margaret celebrated more than I did; I was still buried in my research. Over the next months Emily followed Margarets advice to the letter: she ate well, walked daily, and kept her appointments. She went into early labour, and the baby arrived a little before term.
The little girl weighed under three kilos and was a bit unwell, spending two weeks in the neonatal unit. Margaret looked after her, and by three months Lucy was as spry as any of her peers.
Why wasnt Margaret caring for the child? Because, two weeks after giving birth, Emily disappeared again. Nothing was taken, her passport vanished with her, but the birth certificate stayed. This time Margaret and I didnt scramble to find her. She might return, my research demanded my attention, and I needed to look after my granddaughter.
We even arranged a formal parentalleave arrangement for Margaret, the state pension topped up the household, and she threw herself into caring for Lucy. She never bragged about it, but she loved it.
Mum, youve got a spring in your step! I remarked one afternoon, noticing the glow on her face.
Of course! Im a mother again, she beamed.
No one complained about the missing daughter; we simply said shed gone abroad. We didnt bother the police this time Emily had phoned Margaret, muttering about a fresh crisis, and Margaret, exhausted, didnt listen.
Four years passed with no sign of Emily, then she walked back in, same tearstreaked eyes.
Auntie Sally, Ive nowhere else to go, she cried. Please forgive me, I wont do it again. She looked as forlorn as ever.
We welcomed her back, though I wasnt thrilled. She was Lucys mother, after all, a wandering orphan.
Lucy, however, kept her distance, calling Margaret Mum instead.
Within a month Emily announced she was pregnant again.
No! I snapped. We dont need another strangers child!
Arthur, what do you mean a stranger
Mum, Emily and I arent husband and wife any more, in any sense! I cut her off. Im planning to marry, and this whole mess needs to end.
I told Margaret I was going to tie the knot, and she was blissfully unaware, absorbed in Lucys world. She knew nothing of my love life.
Emily, eyes brimming, begged us to let her stay until the baby arrived. I reluctantly agreed, with Margarets reluctant blessing she feared losing Lucy if Emily left for good.
How am I going to divorce her now? I wondered aloud. Why didnt I think of this sooner?
Ill try to persuade Emily to sign the papers, Margaret promised, praying the split never happened.
Then I said, halfjoking, Mum, what if Lucy isnt my daughter after all? We should test it!
Margarets mouth fell open. She imagined Id fallen for some other girl named Martha or something. She swore Id never introduced Emily to anyone.
Despite her protest, I ordered a DNA test.
I knew it! I shouted, brandishing the report. You see! I let a curse slip out.
Arthur, you cant say that! she snapped. Youre the father, you should have thought first! And dont tell me Lucy isnt my own! Ive got no one else! Tears rolled down her cheeks.
I stared at her, bewildered, and said nothing more.
Emily, now six months pregnant, fell into a further complication and was put on bed rest. Two weeks later she confessed, eyes wet, I wasnt sure, but I know the father of Lucy isnt you. I snarled, I wont be the father of anyone elses child!
She left, and Lucy was officially removed from my name. Margaret, swift as ever, filed for guardianship. Emily didnt object and signed the divorce papers.
She left the newborn in a hospice and vanished, making Margarets job of stripping me of parental rights a little easier.
I married Martha and moved out of the flat. I speak to my mother now only on rare occasions.
