DO I REMEMBER? IMPOSSIBLE TO FORGET!
Polly, theres something I need to tell you Well, do you recall my daughter out of wedlock, Abigail? My husband was always talking in riddles. It unsettled me.
Hmm Do I remember? I couldnt possibly forget! Why? I sat down on the old wooden chair, bracing myself for trouble.
Im not sure how to say this Abigail is begging us to take her daughter so, my granddaughter. My husband, Charlie, fumbled over his words.
Why on earth, Charlie? And what about Abigails husband? Has he lost his marbles? Now I was intrigued; some part of me already bracing for the absurd.
You see, Abigail doesnt have much time left. She never had a husband. Her mother remarried long ago, moved to America, and doesnt speak to her anymore. They had a dreadful falling out. Theres no one else. Thats why shes asking. Charlie stared at the kitchen tiles, shame-faced.
Well? Whats your plan then? What are you going to do? But Id already made up my mind.
I wanted your opinion, Polly. Whatever you say goes. Charlie finally looked at me, hope flickering in his eyes.
How convenient. You sowed your wild oats in your youth, and now its Polly who must take responsibility for anothers child. Is that it? My irritation simmered like a kettle coming to the boil.
Polly, were a family. We ought to decide together. Charlie tried, feebly, to take the offensive.
Oh, look at you, suddenly remembering were a team. But when you were gallivanting around with that woman, you didnt consult me, did you? And Im your wife! Tears rose from nowhere, and I ran out of the kitchen, hollow echoes of another world following me down the hall.
I used to date my schoolmate Paul. But when a new pupil, Alexander, joined our class, I forgot Paul ever existed. It was as if the earth spun delicate for just us two. I promptly dumped Paul. Alexander everyone called him Charlie noticed me right away, always walking me home, planting warm kisses on my cheek, stealing flowers from the park for me. Within a week, he dragged me beneath the cherry trees and, bewildered by the sharp sweetness of living, we crossed a line. I didnt object. I fell for Charlie as if on silk clouds.
We finished school and Charlie was called up for National Service in Manchester. I cried myself silly as I waved him off at the station, my scarf twisting in the Midlands air. Service was a city away, but I wrote constantly. For a year we exchanged letters, then he came home on leave. I bounced with joy, couldnt do enough for him. Charlie lavished me with compliments, and I let my heart off its leash.
Polly, Ill be back in a year, and well have ourselves a wedding. He grinned, Though really, youre already my wife in my mind.
Those words undid me; a tidal wave of hope and affection. Thats what life became: Charlie would hit me with those deep, honeyed glances, and Id melt like ice cream in the rare British sun, like chocolate on a radiator.
Charlie left for service again, and I waited, twisting in expectation, convinced myself I was a fiancée. After six months, I received a letter. Charlie said we had to part hed found true love in the barracks, wouldnt be returning. Very proper, very simple. Except there, in my belly, was his child, kicking the world awake every night.
So much for the wedding. As they say, The suitor swore love, then vanished like dew on the grass. My gran used to mutter:
Dont trust barley blooming, wait for it in the barn.
When the time came, Nathan was born. Paul, my old classmate, offered me a hand. Out of desperation, I accepted. Yes, things turned intimate between us. I never expected to see Charlie again. He was gone, vanished into the mists.
Then, out of nowhere, he returned.
Paul opened the door, and there stood Charlie.
May I come in? Charlie blinked, startled.
Well, youre here now Paul grudgingly let him step in.
Nathan, sensing the twitching tension, promptly began wailing and clung to Paul.
Paul, would you take Nathan for a walk? My words stumbled, butter-fingered.
Paul left, Nathan wobbling beside him.
Husband? Charlie asked, jealousy flashing like far-off heat lighting.
Whats it to you? Why are you here? Anger roared up I couldnt guess at Charlies motives.
Missed you, so I came. I see youve settled, Polly. Got yourself a family. I suppose you couldnt wait for me. Well, Ill go then. Sorry for disturbing your bliss. Charlie made for the door.
Wait, Charlie. Why are you really here? Just to pluck my heart? Paul helps when Im alone. Incidentally, hes raising your two-year-old. I tried to keep hold of Charlie my love for him hadnt faded.
Ive come back for you, Polly. Will you have me? Charlie looked at me, hope flickering again.
Come in, lets have some lunch. My heart found flight, joy tumbling round the room. He was back couldnt forget. Why resist?
Paul was sent packing, again. My Nathan needed his real father, not a stand-in. Paul soon married a decent woman with two children of her own.
The years zipped by. Charlie never truly embraced Nathan as his own. I could see it he always thought Nathan was Pauls. Charlie never worried for our son the way I did. The truth: Charlie was a hopeless flirt, always trailing after skirts. Hed get carried away at the cricket club, at church tea, everywhere. With my friends, their friends no one was off limits. I cried, oh how I cried, but kept on loving him, kept my family together.
Maybe it was easier for me. Whoever loves, lives in blissful ignorance no need for lies or elaborate stories. I just loved him. Charlie was sunshine. Sometimes I imagined leaving him behind, packing it all up, but by night Id scold myself for such nonsense. Where would I go, where would I find another? Hed be lost without me, too. I was lover, wife, mother, all at once to him.
Charlie lost his own mother at fourteen. She died quietly in her sleep. Maybe thats why he wandered, hunting for affection everywhere. I forgave Charlie everything. Once, we fought badly; I threw him out, he moved in with relatives.
A month passed; Id forgotten the quarrel, but still he didnt return. I had to march over to his aunts. She looked stunned.
Polly, why are you looking for Charlie? He said you two divorced. Now hes got a new girlfriend.
Thanks to his aunt, I discovered the new girls address. I turned up at the door.
Afternoon! Would you call Charlie for me? I tried to sound gracious.
She cackled, slammed the door straight in my face. I drifted off, feeling like Id slipped into the shadows.
Charlie returned a year later. The girl had given birth to a daughter, Abigail. Ive blamed myself all these years for pushing Charlie out. Maybe, if Id just swallowed my pride, that girl wouldnt have swooped in and had his child.
After that, I only tried harder to please Charlie, loved him as fiercely as I could. We never spoke of Abigail, his daughter from that affair. Seemed like uttering her name would shatter our family, a house of cards gusted away. Safer to stay silent better not to uncork that bottle.
Child from another woman? Such things happen, dont they? Let those temptresses alien to marriage keep their distance from other men.
So it went, Charlie settling down, becoming gentler and softer with the years. The women faded into mist. Charlie stayed home more, glued to the telly. Nathan married young, gave us three delightful grandchildren. And then, out of the blue
Abigail surfaced after all those years. She asked us to take in her own child.
It gave pause. How to explain to Nathan the sudden appearance of another child in the family? He knew nothing of his father’s misadventures in his youth.
Without question, we brought five-year-old Alice into our home. Abigail passed away; her journey closed at thirty. Every grave is soon overgrown, but life presses on.
Charlie decided to speak to Nathan, man to man. Nathan listened, then simply said, Mum, Dad, whats past is past Im not here to judge. Of course well take in the girl. Shes family.
We breathed easier, Charlie and I. Good lad, our Nathan: kind-hearted.
Now Alice is sixteen, doting on Grandad Charlie, swapping secrets with him; she calls me Granny and insists shes the spit of me as a girl. I never argue with her; sometimes, in dreams, I almost believe it myself.
