My name is James. I’ve always considered myself rather fortunate, because I managed to become both a husband and a father. I married Emily, the girl I’d fallen for during our days at secondary school. She faithfully waited for me through my time in the service and, when I returned, we tied the knot.
First, our eldest, Charlie, was born. A few years later, our second son, Oliver, arrived. But deep down, I always hoped wed one day have a daughter. Even when Emily was expecting our first, I remember telling everyone I was hoping for a little girl. They all seemed surprised by thismost blokes want sons, after all. But I couldnt help dreaming of a daughter. As it turned out, Emily gave birth to a boy. Three years on, she gave birth to another son.
Emily and I were happy together; our boys were growing up well. Then, quite out of the blue, Emily told me she was expecting again. Ill admit, I was a bit stunnedwe really hadnt planned on a third child. That said, I was genuinely delighted by the news of Emilys pregnancy.
“Surely itll be a little girl this time!” I told her more than once, and Emily would just smile at me and say, I think its about time, dont you? Both my mother and Emilys mum were adamant, just by looking at her bump, that this one would be a girland even the sonographer agreed. We were all eagerly anticipating a daughter. The boys even had a name picked out for their baby sister.
When it was time, I drove Emily to the hospital. I hardly slept all night, worrying about my dear Emily, and hoping everything was going well with the babyour much-anticipated girl. First thing in the morning, I rang the maternity ward and was told wed had another son: 7 pounds, 54 centimetres long.
I couldnt believe what I was hearingI genuinely thought it mustve been some sort of mistake. After all, we were so certain wed have a daughter. But no, there was no mix-up. We really had another boy. It came as a genuine surprisenot just to me, but to the whole family. I still couldnt fathom how the scan could be so wrong. When I rang Emily, I half-joked, half-asked her:
“Are you sure you havent let the neighbour slip in? Whats going on here?”
She snapped back, “What on earth are you getting at? Dont be ridiculous!”
“But we were meant to have a girl!”
“Youre absolutely mad, James!” she said, sounding hurt, and hung up the phone.
A few days later, Emily was discharged, and I brought my wife and our newborn home from the hospital. Once inside, she unwrapped our little bundle. I looked down at my tiny, completely helpless baby, who was in need of all our love and careand I immediately felt filled with affection for my son.
Four and a half years flew by. We called our third son Harry. I taught Harry to ride a scooter. He didnt resemble me in the slightesthe barely took after Emily either, while our eldest two sons looked very much like me.
Then, one day, I overheard a couple of elderly ladies in our street talking outside. They were discussing how little Harry looked nothing like me.
Dont you reckon Harrys got the spitting image of that bloke Simon from number 27? one of them said.
I felt quite sore at hearing that, so I went and confronted Emily about who Harrys real father was.
“Not this again! How could you even question my faithfulness? Thats absolute rubbish!” she shot back.
“I just want the truth, thats all. Simons given you a lift home from work before!”
“He did, yes! I was already pregnant at the time, and felt dreadfulI was lugging home heavy shopping and he kindly offered me a lift. What of it? That hardly makes him Harrys father!”
“No, of course not! But he does look nothing like me, does he?”
Emily and I ended up having quite a row over it. She was furious at me. Eventually, I decided I wanted a DNA test to put my mind at ease, but Emily refused at first. About two weeks later, she changed her mind and said shed do it, but promised shed divorce me afterwards. I thought it was just the heat of the moment, but we set a date for the test.
One day, while taking out the bins, I ran into Simon in the street. He was about 35 now and still living alone. I really studied Simons face, trying to see if there was any similarity between him and Harry. Truth be told, there wasnt.
I went back inside and sat at the kitchen table, turning it all over in my mind. At that moment, little Harry ran over, hopped on my lap, hugged me and started chattering away. I felt a wave of calm come over me. What was I thinking? I didnt need a test. He was my sondeep down, I knew it.
I scooped Harry into my arms and walked into the bedroom where Emily was.
“No more tests,” I said.
“What? After all that, youre dropping it?” she replied indignantly. “I was actually prepared to do it, just to get you off my case and prove hes really yours!”
I spent the next week apologising to Emily, begging forgiveness for doubting her. In the end, she forgave me. The years passed. Our eldest son married, and soon his wife was pregnant. She gave birth to our granddaughter.
At last, Emily and I became grandparents. I was over the moonfinally, a granddaughter to spoil. I can say without a shadow of a doubt that Ill love her just as dearly as Ive loved all three of my boys.
