Dear Diary,
The evening ended with a strange phone call to Dad: Dad, do you remember Nadia Alexandra Martin? Its a bit late now, but can you come round tomorrow? I want to introduce you to my younger brother and your son. Thats all. See you tomorrow.
This all started early this morning when I found a boy asleep right outside my flat door. I couldnt imagine why a child would sleep in a strangers stairwell at that hour. After teaching for ten years, I couldnt just walk by and leave him. I bent down, gently shook his skinny shoulder and tried to rouse him.
Hey, young man, wake up!
What? he mumbled, awkwardly getting to his feet.
Who are you? Why are you sleeping here?
Im not asleep. Well, sort of Your doormats really soft. I was sitting, and I nodded off without meaning to, he replied.
Id only lived in this building for six months, buying the flat after divorcing my husband. I hardly knew anyone here, but I could tell the child didnt belong to the building.
He was about ten, maybe eleven, dressed in old but tidy clothes, shuffling from foot to foot.
Suddenly, I realised he needed the loo. Go onquick now. Im about to be late for work, I said, letting him in. He looked at me with the most unusual pale-blue eyes Id ever seen. Such a rare colour, I thought as he vanished towards the bathroom. While he washed his hands, I made him a ham sandwich.
Here, have something to eat.
Thank you! he called, already halfway out the door. Youve saved me. Now I can wait in peace.
And who are you waiting for? I asked.
Granny Antonia. She lives nearby. Maybe you know her?
I know Mrs Antonia a little, but she was taken to hospital two days ago in an ambulance. I saw them carry her out when I came home from work.
What hospital? The boys voice trembled.
It was St. Marys on shift yesterday, likely that one.
He was about to leave when he finally decided to introduce himself. Whats your name?
Emma Ford, I replied as I hurried out the door.
Trying to get through the maze of school day troubles, I kept thinking about him. Maybe it was my maternal instinct flaring up. I never had children, which eventually led to the split from my husband; he moved on and started another family.
At my break, I rang the hospital. It turned out Granny Antonia had had a stroke. The outlook was poorshe was 78 after all.
That evening, I spotted the boy again on the landing. He sat on the windowsill, waiting for me.
There you are! Ive been waiting for you, he said, brightening at the sight of me. They wont let me see Granny. Shes not coming home for a while.
I asked his name. He was FrederickFred, but insisted on Frederick.
Once he was freshened up and fed, I couldnt help myself. Did you run away from home? Arent your parents worried sick?
I dont have parents. I live with my aunt.
Then your aunt must be frantic, I fussed.
He shook his head. No, I told her Id gone to Grannys, but she doesnt know Grannys in hospital. I dont really want to go back anyway. Shes kind but drinks a bitmy uncle more so. Hes nasty when he does. Theyve four kids of their own, nearly five. Im just one too many. They said if I stay, theyll send me to care, and I dont want that. Im not a bother here, am I? Mum used to say Im hyperactive, just like Dad, and light-eyed too. Shes been dead two years now.
What was your mothers name? I asked.
Nadia Alexandra Martin. She was lovelykind and pretty. She worked as a secretary for the boss at some chemical plantcant remember the name.
And your dad?
I never had a dad. Not ever, Frederick muttered.
Suddenly it clicked. Those pale-blue eyesId only ever seen them on one other person: my dad, the director of a big plant.
My heart thumped. An affair between a director and his secretary? Could Dad have known shed had his son? Did he even notice when she disappeared from reception?
And naming the boy FrederickDads own name. She mustve truly loved him.
Id always been an only child, though as a girl I wished for a brother or sister.
Pop to the shop for bread, please? I sent him across the road.
Then, before I could hesitate, I rang Dad:
Dad, do you remember Nadia Alexandra Martin? Its late now, but please come tomorrow. I want you to meet my little brother. And your son. Thats all. Goodbye!
When Frederick got back, I made up the sofa for him and told him to wash up and get some rest.
I didnt know what would happen next. One thing was certain: I wouldnt let my little brother end up with difficult relatives, and Id sooner die than see him in care.
Dad arrived early the next morning. Normally, Id sleep in on weekends, but I hardly slept a wink. Dad had always looked after me, unlike Mum. He was my rock, supporting my decision to teach even when Mum said only failures chose that path. He even encouraged my first marriage and picked up the pieces when it ended.
He arrived, looking as sharp as everimmaculate trousers, polished shoes, a trace of expensive cologne.
So, whats all this? You found me a brother, have you? Hardly slept a wink myself, been worrying all night, he announced as soon as he walked in.
Quiet, Dad, my guest is still sleeping. Come, lets have breakfast.
As we ate, I explained everything.
This is all very odd, Dad said at last. Yes, Nadia Martin was my secretary. Bright, young, beautiful. She always looked at me that way. I was older, but Im still a manshe gave off those signals. Ill admit, I couldnt resist. But I never wouldve left your mother for anyone. One time, Nadia hinted, asking if I wanted a son. I told her I had a daughter, and a son would be too late for me. Then her mother became ill; she took a long leave, went back to her village. The temp secretary was older. Nadia came back about a year laterglowing. Joked about getting married and having a son. Said her husband was lovely. Her surname was still Martin, though. People just cohabit now. After that, our relationship was purely work. She had her life; I had mine. Three years ago, she fell ill and passed away. I found out when I signed off some financial support. Such a shame. But, Emma, I think youre reachingshed married and had a son, so?
At that moment, Frederick padded into the kitchen. Polite and well-mannered, he greeted us. Now Dad was face-to-face with him, the resemblance was stark. Dad paled.
Well, introductions then! Dad exclaimed, extending a trembling hand. Frederick Michael.
Frederick Frederick Martin, the boy replied, placing his hand in Dads.
The two Freddies exchanged identical, surprised glances.
Seems like I have a houseful of Fredericks today! I said, unable to hide my smile.
When Frederick left to wash up, Dad stared at me. I dont get it. He looks just like I did at his age. But she said she had a husband.
She never married. She went home to hide her pregnancy. Ask at HR what dates Nadia was on maternity leave. She made up the marriage so you wouldnt feel guilty. And Frederick says he never had a father.
Dad frowned. But Nadia had no brothers or sisters. She was an only child. And her mothers long gone. Where did this aunt and granny come from?
Frederick had been listening in the hall. You mean my mum? Aunt Vals not really familyjust a distant relation. They came when mum got too ill. Granny Antonias Aunt Vals mother. After Mum died, Aunt Val took me in. We had to leave our rented flat, so I went with them. They even get some money for methough my uncle always moans its not enough. Oh, and I remembered you, Mr Michael! Your photo was on Mums dresser. I thought maybe you were her favourite actor. She promised shed tell me about you one day.
I sent Frederick off to the Saturday matinée at the cinema down the street after giving him breakfast.
So, Dad, have you still got doubts?
Not really, he sighed, but well have to do a DNA test. The courts will need proof. And so began the next sagatests, paperwork, nerves. Dads wife had a spectacular blood-pressure episode before retreating for a seaside break, though curiosity did later bring her to meet Frederick. She liked him but refused to take him herself. Visits were fine, parenting wasnther health and nerves couldnt take it. My housekeepers not a nanny! she grumbled.
Nobody pushed. Dad spent more and more time with Frederick and was thrilled every time he discovered a shared traitboth hated semolina, both adored cats. But Dads wife was allergic to cats and Frederick had never had a home where pets were allowed.
They both had the same slight lisp too. And of course, the uncanny resemblance
Eventually, the legal processes finished. Dad packed up the new court papers and said to Frederick:
From today, youre my son by law as well as blood. Heres your document. Im sorry I didnt know about you until now. You dont have to call me Dad, but always know youre not alone in this worldyou have me, and you have Emma, your sister.
I guessed you were my dad the moment I saw you, Frederick beamed.
Children are so sharp these days, Dad smiled and hugged him.
I saw tears in Dads eyes, though he quickly pulled himself together. Frederick stayed with me. He rarely visits Dads wife, but Dad himself comes by every day. And together, Frederick and I adopted a little tabby kitten from a man outside the supermarketFrederick picked the weakest-looking one and called him Whiskers. For the first time, Frederick told me, he felt truly happy.
P.S. Dad had a white marble headstone made for Nadia. We often visit her grave, bringing fresh flowers.
One time, as we placed a new bouquet down, Frederick said softly, You know, Dad, the day before Mum died, she told me not to cry too much. She said she wouldnt disappear completelyjust move to another world and watch over me. And now, I think it was Mum who helped Emma find me, and then you too. I just know it. Do you believe me?
Of course I do, son, Dad replied.
