Get out! shouted Barry, his voice echoing through the hall like church bells rung too hard. What on earth, son his mother began, clutching the edge of the table as she struggled to rise. Im not your son! Barry snatched her handbag and flung it into the hallway. I dont want your ghost haunting this house!
Maria shivered. She had never, in all their six years, heard him raise his voice so sharply.
What on earth, son his mother repeated, grasping for balance.
Im not your son! Barry hurled her handbag away. Dont leave a trace of yourself here!
Little Annie slept, her arms splayed wide like a tiny starfish lost on Blackpool sands. Maria tucked the blanket around her.
She loved spending these quiet moments, watching her small daughter and dreaming of the years she spent longing for a child, of all the hope and heartbreak it took to become a mother.
Her husbands return was announced by the shuffle of boots in the entryway she recognised that tired clatter immediately. Maria slipped out of Annies room, closing the door gently. Barry was taking off his shoes.
He looked weary, worn thinner than the last autumn leaves clinging to the tree. He worked himself to the bone, determined to pay off the loans they took out for the IVF treatments.
She asleep? he whispered softly.
Shes asleep. Ate, then dropped off right away.
Barry pulled Maria in close, burying his face in her neck. He was never one to speak much about love, but she knew, in that moment, how deeply grateful he was to her for never leaving, for not exchanging him for someone healthier, for being the reason he could hope again.
At sixteen, Barry had suffered through the mumps on his feet hed been too shy to tell his mother of the swelling and pain. When he finally admitted it, complications had already set in, leaving him almost completely infertile.
Mum rang, Barry grunted, keeping his arms locked around Maria.
Maria tensed.
What does Mrs Gladys want, then?
Shes coming round. Will be here for lunch. Said shes baked pies, missed us.
Maria sighed, freeing herself from Barrys arms.
Barry, do we have to? Last time, she drove me to tears with her nonsense about rinsing with baking soda.
Maria, shes my mum She wants to see Annie. Its been a year, shes only seen her in photos. Shes her granny, after all.
Granny Maria gave a bitter smile. The one who called our daughter a mongrel.
A year ago, theyd adopted Annie. The queues for healthy newborns in their region wound on forever, enough to make you grey with waiting.
A few connections, a discreet envelope thick with pounds for the departments needs, plus the shrewdness of a midwife friend, and Annie came home with them.
The little girl had been born to a terrified sixteen-year-old schoolgirl not ready for motherhood, it would have ruined her life.
Maria would never forget that day: a tiny bundle, weighing just over three stone, blue eyes searching hers.
All right, Maria said at last. Let her come. Well survive. But if she starts again
She wont, Barry promised. Honestly.
Gladys arrived at noon, sweeping into their flat as if it were her manor. Large, loud, brimming with country toughness, she was the sort of woman who could stop a horse or put out a fire with her bare hands or drive every neighbours nerves to tatters.
Oh, Lord above! she bellowed from the doorway, dropping her tartan bag in the hall. Getting here was murder! The train was stuffy, the tube packed, nearly gave my soul up on the lift creaking and rattling, God help me!
Afternoon, Mum, Barry kissed her cheek and took the heavy bag from her. Come in, and wash your hands.
Gladys shrugged off her coat, unveiling a floral dress stretched tight against her hearty figure, and fixed her gaze squarely on Maria.
She looked her up and down, as if judging a chestnut mare at a fair.
Hello, Mrs Gladys, Maria smiled politely.
Hello, then. Gladys pursed her lips. Youre looking awfully thin, Maria. Nothing but bones sticking out. Whats Barry got to hold on to, eh? Hes looking peaky too. Are you starving him sitting around all day nibbling grass and letting your husband go hungry?
Barry eats perfectly well, snapped Maria, cheeks aflame. Lets sit at the table, please.
In the kitchen, Gladys pounced on her bag, producing tubs of pies, a jar of pickled onions and a slab of lard.
There eat up. Cant trust the food here, its all chemicals. You all just chew plastic in this city.
She sat down, leaning heavily on her elbows.
So hows life? Paid off those loans for your, what do you call them experiments?
Maria gripped her fork hard. Experiments! That was how she summed up six years of pain, hope, and despair.
Mostly paid off, Mum, Barry muttered, helping himself to salad. Lets not talk about money.
What are we supposed to talk about? Gladys replied, biting into a pie. The weather? Back home in Little Whittington, your brother Colin had their third born. Girl healthy, gorgeous, nine pounds! Your sister Tanyas expecting twins. Thats a proper family, I tell ya thats good stock!
Our stocks strong, Barry. Were a fertile bunch. She shot Maria a pointed look.
Provided you dont mess with the genes
Maria set her fork down, slow and deliberate.
Mrs Gladys, weve been over this a hundred times. This issue isnt mine. The medical reports say
Oh, dont start! Gladys waved her off. Doctors write whatever to milk your money. Mumps? Come off it!
Half the boys back home got over it and theyve all got half a dozen kids each.
Thats your missus, Barry; full of stories to cover up her own problems!
Mum! Barry slapped his palm on the table. Enough!
Gladys clutched her heart dramatically.
Watch your tone with your mother! I raised five kids, I know a thing or two. Shes all narrow hips and girlish frame, Maria where are kids supposed to come from? Shes barren.
Were happy, Mum, Barry said quietly. We have Annie.
Annie, is it? Gladys snorted. Show me, then.
They moved into the nursery. Annie was already awake, sitting up in her cot, fingering a plush teddy.
Seeing a stranger, she frowned but held her ground; her nature was oddly calm.
Gladys shuffled over. Maria stood close, ready to snatch Annie up one never knew with Gladys.
She squinted at Annie, reached out and grazed her chubby cheek. Annie wriggled away.
Bit odd, isnt she? Gladys sniffed. Eyes are almost black. All our lot are blue.
Her eyes are blue, Maria corrected. Dark blue.
Her nose, though round like a potato. Youve got a sharp nose, Barrys is straight. This ones
Gladys straightened and brushed her hands as if shaking off dirt.
Shes not one of us. Never will be.
Back in the kitchen, Barry poured himself a glass of water, hands trembling.
Mum, listen, he began, voice gentle, We love Annie! Shes ours by law, by heart, by everything.
And we might still have one of our own. Doctors say theres a chance, small as it is. But even if not, were already a family.
Gladys sat tight-lipped, brimming with fury. Five children, twelve grandchildren, and here was her boy wasting his life on someone elses child.
Youre hopeless, Barry, she wheezed finally. Absolutely hopeless! Youre thirty-five, middle of your prime, and here you are minding a stray!
Dont you call her that! Marias voice sliced the air.
What else, then? Gladys turned on her. A princess?
You should hush, you cant have children yourself, hoodwinked your husband. Bribed your way in bought a child like a kitten at market!
Shes our child!
A child is your own, one you carry through sleepless nights and morning sickness, the one you bear in pain! Thats motherhood!
She Gladys waved toward the nursery. Just playing house, you picked up something ready-made from some young tart.
Think you can hack away at her genetics with an axe? Wait till she grows up; shell give you hell! Get rid of her before its too late!
Maria saw Barrys pupils widen. He stood up, slow and silent.
Out, he said, barely above a whisper.
Gladys blinked. What?
Go! Get out! Barry roared, shaking the windows.
Maria flinched. She had never, in all their years, heard him like this.
What on earth, son Gladys tried to stand, clutching the table for support.
Im not your son! Barry grabbed her bag and flung it into the hall. Dont you ever dare come back! Give away our child? You think shes furniture? Shes my daughter! Mine! And you You
His breath failed him.
Youre a monster, not a mother! Go back to your village and count your thoroughbreds. Stay out of our lives! Never come near us again!
From the nursery, Annie began to cry. Maria rushed to the door, but couldnt help watching Gladyss face shift from red to a pallid grey.
Gladys opened her mouth, gasping for breath like a fish beached on Brighton shore. Her hand clutched her dress at her chest.
Barry she croaked. It burns burning
She slumped down, heavy as a sack of flour toppling over, knocking the chair aside as her fall mingled with Annies tears.
Maria dialled for an ambulance. Barry knelt beside Gladys, clumsy fingers struggling to unfasten her dress collar.
Mum, please, breathe! Mum!
Gladys rasped for air.
The paramedics stormed in, shout echoing through the house:
Heart attack. Massive one. Stretchers! Now!
When the door closed behind the medics, Barry sank to the hallway floor, back to the wall, staring at his mothers forgotten chiffon scarf limp on the dresser.
Did I do this to her? he whispered.
Maria sat beside him, took his icy hand in hers.
No. She did it herself with her own bitterness.
Shes my mum, Maria.
She wanted to toss our daughter out like damaged goods. Barry, you protected our family.
His mobile buzzed an hour later first Tanya, then Colin. He ignored them.
Then a text from his aunt:
Mums in intensive care. Doctors say shes got little chance. You did this, you fiend? May you rot. We curse you, every one of us! Dont even visit!
Well, thats it then. Ive no family left.
Maria hugged his trembling shoulders, feeling the shivers running through him.
You do, she said firmly. You have me. You have Annie. Were your real kin. The true sort the kind who never betray.
She rose, tugging at his hand.
Come on. Annie needs feeding. Shes frightened.
That evening, they sat in the kitchen. Annie, now calm, played with her building blocks at their feet. Barry watched her as if seeing her anew.
You know, he said suddenly, Mum was right about one thing.
Maria tensed.
Whats that?
Genes cant be wiped away. But its not about eye colour or noses. Genes are about love.
My mum had five kids, and as much love in her as a pebbled grave. What if I was adopted myself? Because I know how to love Right, my little one?
He reached down, scooped up Annie. She grabbed his nose, giggling.
Daddy, she said, clear as a bell.
For the very first time. Until now, just muddled ba-ba, ma-ma.
Barry froze. The tears hed held in all day overflowed, dripping onto Annies pink onesie.
Daddy, he repeated. Yes, love. Im Daddy. And Ill never let you go.
His mother recovered, but Barry never spoke to her again. To his relatives, he was enemy number one now.
Maria almost hesitated to admit it, but she was relieved. Life was lighter without those endless barbs and wounds.
Why bother with such family? They were better off without.
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