WHEN MY HUSBAND RETURNED FROM WORK UP NORTH, HE WASNT ALONE: IN HIS ARMS, HE HELD A LITTLE BOY
I still remember that day as if it had happened last week, though the years have since worn soft the sharper edges of the memory. I had just lifted the fish pie out of the oven, a recipe that filled the cottage kitchen with a sea-fresh aroma. Just how my husband, Edward, liked it. On the stove, a pot of hot vegetable soup was simmering, and I had only the homemade lemonade left to preparean easy chore I planned to finish once Edward stepped through the door.
I covered the freshly-baked pie with a white linen cloth so it would keep warm and drifted over to the window. Our house sat in the middle of the lane, just across from the village bus stopwhere, any moment now, the bus from London would arrive with Edward on board.
It had been three months since Id last seen Edward. He worked contracts up in Newcastlethree months away, then three at home. How I counted the days until he returned! A cottage, after all, isnt like a flatit needs a mans steady hand around the place.
The house was mine, inherited from my aunt. When Edward and I married five years ago, he owned a flat in Birmingham. We debated, then agreed a roomy country house would suit us better; Edward sold his flat, investing the money in a local business that, to our dismay, soon collapsed. Since then, for three years, hed been taking on those long stints up North.
He always brought back decent money, but it was tough turning the house on my own for three whole months. At only twenty-eight, I sometimes forgot I was even marriedespecially with no child running about. Edward thought it wasnt the right time for children.
Im gone for months at a time, Anna. How would you manage a baby on your own? Lets save a bit first. Ill find proper work closer to home, then we can think about it, hed reasoned.
But there was never enough money. And urgent repairs were always cropping up: now the roof had sprung a leak, leaving a sinister damp stain above the spare room. Id set a pail beneath it, which filled quickly during every English rainstorm.
Edward knew about the leak; we spoke on the telephone regularly, and he promised to sort it the moment he returned. Roofers werent cheap, I knew.
He was a good husbandcapable, caring. He called every evening to check on me, and I missed him dearly. The day he returned I always took off work, filled the kitchen with his favourite foods, and waited by the window.
His train had reached Oxford hours ago, and now hed be coming up the lane by bus. Therethe number twelve had scarcely stopped when my heart gave a nervous lurch. I spotted Edward with his travel bag slung over one shoulder.
Normally, when the bus pulled away, Edward would wave madly, knowing Id be waiting in the window. But this time, something was different. He wasnt alone. He was carrying a small child in his armsa little boy, by the look of him. He couldnt have been more than two or three, but I rarely spent time with children and couldnt be sure. Edward looked sombre and didnt wave once.
His arms were fullboy in one, bag in the other. He made his way up the lane, and I simply stared, frozen. Whose child was this? Someone from work? But why bring the boy home? Who in their right mind would give Edwarda man with barely any experience with childrensuch a young child?
Edward stepped into the hallway, dropped his bag, and gently set the boy on the floor. The child clung to his leg, peeking at me with startlingly wide eyes and his thumb popped into his mouth. He looked just as adrift as I felt. I didnt run to Edward as I usually did, but stood there, tense and puzzled.
Well, Anna, arent you going to greet me after all this time? Edward opened his arms, but there was no hint of the usual humour in his eyes.
I stepped carefully around the boy, hugged my husband, and even returned his kiss. But I couldnt contain my question.
Edward, who is this child? Whats going on?
Edward exhaled heavily and took the boy gently by the hand.
Come now, Oliver, he said softly, lets take off your shoes and go into the sitting room.
He led the boy into the guest bedroom, settled him on the bed, andof all thingshanded him Edwards cherished model aeroplane, which he always handled with utmost care. My worry doubledhe never let anyone play with that.
You sit here a tick, lad, Edward told him, I need to have a word with Auntie Anna.
He closed the bedroom door behind him and then gave me a tight, uneasy smile.
Will you feed me, Anna?
Of course. Come in, I replied, pulling myself together.
As he spooned up his soup and nibbled the pie, I watched his face, uneasy for what would come next.
That boyhes my son, Edward said at last, bluntly, as though making an incision. Oliver is my son.
A gasp escaped me; my heart quickened. I wanted desperately for Edward to grin and admit it was all a joke. But there was no mirth in his eyes.
It happened, Anna, he reached for my hand, earnest and desperate. You see, three months is a long time for a man. There was a cook up there, Maryjust a couple of times, but she ended up pregnant.
So thats it? I yanked my hand away. You told me it wasnt time for children, yet you went ahead and had a son with someone else?
My voice trembled with restrained pain, growing shrill.
Do you think I planned it? he pleaded. She never said she was expecting. Only after the boy was born, she told me. And theres no doubthes the spitting image of me. You must have noticed?
I hadnt noticed. Id hardly looked at the boy, and now, I could only feel resentmenthe embodied Edwards betrayal. Still, something didnt add up.
Why bring him here? Wheres his mother?
Edwards voice grew grave. There was an accident. She worked late at the canteen, took the long way home, anda dog attacked her. She didnt make it. Afterwards, I was officially listed as Olivers father. There was no denying it. So I had no choice but to bring the boy here.
What now? I whispered.
Idont know. Its in your hands. If you want me gone, well leave. But AnnaIve only ever loved you. That with Mary, it was just a foolish moment, it meant nothing. If you can forgive, I swear, it will never happen again. Ill be faithful to my last day.
I could see he agonised over what hed done, and as broken as I felt, Id grown used to his absencestrained myself for yearning and waiting. Yes, I would forgive him. But what about the boy?
What about the child? My voice was almost silent. What do you intend to do with him?
Where else could he go, Anna? Edward threw his hands up. If you send me away, hell come with me. If you forgive me, hell stay, too. Hes my son now.
This part was far harderforgive the man, yes, but take his child from another woman into my home? Every day, Edward would care for a living reminder of his betrayal.
I simply stood and left. I walked the quiet streets into the night, my mind a storm. At one point, by the Thames, dark thoughts flickered and faded. But, deep down, I knewI could not live without Edward. I would have to make peace, somehow, with the boy.
That night, I crept home long after everyone else slept. Edward was asleep in our bedroom, and there, on the little folding bed, was Oliverthe stranger whod upended my life. The bedside lamp cast a faint glow over his small, fragile features. He slept fitfully, twitching in apparent distress. That poor childhis mother dead, in a strange home. I tried to muster pity, but only loathing bubbled up.
He was just twoa shy, silent child. I put on a brave face and treated him coldly. Oliver, perhaps sensing my dislike, kept close to Edward. Edward himself, uneasy with the boy, performed only the basics: feeding, washing, buying toys to keep him preoccupied.
For that first week, I spoke to neither Edward nor Oliver. I wandered my own home like a haunted soul, my eyes drawn again and again to that unwanted little presence.
Edward, wary at first, tried to win me round; once reassured that my anger was spent, he defaulted to his old selffixing the roof, painting the ceiling, showing me the ordinary face of routine. By months end, I had more or less thawed; I even forgave in my heart, though I still could not bear the boys presence. Let Edward see to him.
Two months later, anxiety gripped me anew. Edwards three months at home were uphe was to leave for Newcastle again. What would happen to Oliver? When I asked, Edward raised his eyebrows in genuine surprise.
Anna, I cant bring him with me to the worksites! What do you expect, that hell sleep in a bunkhouse? Naturally, hell stay here. Ive sorted a place for him at the village nursery. You only need to drop him off and pick him up. Dont worryIm not asking you to love him. He keeps to himself and wont trouble you.
At that, Oliver peered round the doorframe, wide blue eyes blinking hopefully. What could a two-year-old understand? More than I guessed, perhaps.
Once Edward left, Oliver grew withdrawn. He dressed himself each morning, never asking for help, and I dropped him at nursery in silence. Our evenings were equally wordlessI served him supper and all but ignored him.
Then, one evening, he wouldnt eat and retreated to his little bedroom. Glancing in as I walked by, I saw him curled on the bed, eyes closed and cheeks alarmingly flushed. Usually a pale child, his red fevered face unsettled me.
Reluctantly, I touched his brow; even without the thermometer, the heat alarmed me. Oliver, darling, are you poorly? I asked, crouching down.
Yesmy head hurts, and my throat, he whispered. And I was sick at nursery yesterday.”
His voice was faint, muddled. Panic seized me. I rummaged for the thermometer, but even before it read forty, Id rung the ambulance. While we waited, I tried to cool his brow, biting my lip until it bled.
Oh, Oliverwhy didnt you say something? You put up with it, terrified of the awful woman who hates you. What have you done to deserve any of this?
When the paramedics arrived, the nurse frowned and shook her head. Hes got a nasty infection. Best come to hospital, love.
I bundled Oliver in his coat, carried him to the ambulance, and didnt leave his side the whole two weeks we were kept in the childrens ward. He clung to me, his little arms fierce around my neck, and something in my heart finally melted. I realised, all at once, that he had become my own.
I told the nurses, without thinking, Hes my husbands son, and Im in the process of adopting him. Soon enough, Ill be his mother.
And I did just thatby the time Edward returned from his stint Up North, I was Oliver’s mother in every way but blood.
When Edward came home that time, Oliver looked up at me and, without hesitation, called me Mum. I wept the night away, realising the truthI loved him as fiercely as if hed been born to me.
A year and a half passed, and Oliver blossomed into a jolly, sturdy boy. He adored me and followed me everywhere, seeming to forget Edward altogether. Edward, truth be told, seemed quite relieved.
Then disaster struck. Edward left for work up north once more, and not two weeks passed before word arrived: thered been a dreadful accidentthe workers coach had tipped off the road and disappeared beneath a landslide of snow and rock. Many were never found. Edward included.
I nearly lost my mind with grief. The only thing that held me together was Olivermy boy. Thank goodness, thank the Lord, I was not alone.
A year after, Edward was officially declared missing, set to be pronounced dead in a months time.
It was a raw, rainy spring day when everything changed again. Returning from a walk with Oliver, I barely noticed the front door was ajar, so anxious was I to get him into dry socks. While I fussed in the hallway, planning to make us a pot of tea, I heard the clink of crockery in the kitchen.
And there sat Edward, as if nothing had happened, tucking into the mornings chicken pie.
Dont faint, AnnaIm alive, he grinned, standing when he saw me sway. Truly, I wasnt on that coach.
Where have you been all this time? I managed, sliding into a chair.
Well, he began, I was about to get on that bus, but just then an old acquaintance ranginvited me on a whim to go down to Cornwall with her. She fancied buying a place by the sea. Shes a bit older, but very well off. While we were there, I heard about the accident. I thought, fate has decided. Id let the world believe I was gone, and Id stay with her.
Youyoubastard! was all I could choke out. After the hell you put us through? Why are you back now?
Edward met my eyes. The thing is, Anna, she and I are starting a business together. Weve decided to marry. Ive come for a divorceand to take Oliver.
What? Oliver? Why? My voice rose with panic.
Well, you see, shes always wanted a child, and cant have her own. If I bring Oliver, we could raise him together
Never! I shouted, my voice finally restored. My hands worked the edge of the table, seizing a fork. Fear flickered across Edwards face; fury flickered across mine. You will not take my son. Not for all the world. Marry her if you wishbut Oliver stays with me! What is he to youa toy? And if he doesnt fit in, what then?
Anna, lets not get worked up he pleaded, eyeing the fork until I let it fall to the table with a clatter. Look, you dont need himyou arent really his mother.
Not his mother? Come, I spat. Lets see who he chooses. Hes old enough now to decide.
I hadn’t finished speaking when Oliver shot into the kitchen, his small body careering toward me. He flung his arms around my waist, sobbing. Mummy, dont let him take me! I want to stay with you!
Of course not, sweetheart. Youre my boy, and I cant lose you. I set him on my lap, glaring at Edward. You heard him. Youll have your divorce, but forget about Oliver. Over my dead body will you take him!
Fine then! Edward scoffed, stuffing the pie into his mouth before making for the door. See if I care. Wholl want a woman with a child? Youll be left with nothingno one will marry you now!
Good! Ive had enough of men like you! I shouted after him. Oliver and I have each other. We dont need anyone else! Off with you, you silly man!
And we did have each otherOliver and I in our little cottage, the rain drumming on the mended roof, and peace at last in our hearts.
