Page 45 of A Family Affair
Ernie wasn’t anywhere near absolving Beryl, and despite not wanting to agree with Honey, her words had made sense, but he just couldn’t allow the ball of fury that was swirling in his chest to be extinguished. It was fuelling him, allowing his brain to tick, his heart to beat and keeping him upright when he actually wanted to crumple into a heap on his row of brassicas.
Instead of acknowledging Honey’s wisdom, he chose to swerve the subject of Beryl and focus on Molly. ‘It’s just all too much to take in. The whole thing beggars belief. I mean,she,that cold-hearted woman,actually took another woman’s baby and didn’t even have the decency to keep my name, the one my real mother gave me on her deathbed. If she’d had any goodness in her soul at all she’d have honoured Nora’s wishes and called me Robert, but no, Mrs Selfish McCarthy wanted a brand-new baby and a clean slate. She disgusts me.’
‘Grandad!’
‘Grandad, what?’ His head swivelled to look Honey in the eye.
Ernie felt the beast inside and it had almost reached his throat and he knew if it escaped he’d say something terrible, and all of the allotment would hear, so he reined it in. ‘Don’t you see that if she’d told me, when I came of age p’raps, then I could have tried to find my family, like they do on the telly. You know that programme wi’ that chatty lass. Big nose, dark hair, does Red Nose day.’
Honey sighed, ‘Ah, Davina, yes I know the programme you mean.’
‘It’s one of my favourites is that. I record it and I swear, whenever I watch it, it’s like something is telling me, calling out that I’m the same as them on the telly. We have a connection. I understand it when some of them say they never felt like they belonged. I thought it was just me being soft, getting old and nostalgic I suppose. And don’t go telling anyone but I always shed a tear when they finally meet up with their mams and dads, or their sisters and brothers and find out who they were and where they came from.’
‘And you didn’t get the chance, did you?’ Honey sounded wistful.
Ernie was glad she got it. ‘That’s right lass, they took that chance away from me. I could have had aunties and uncles, cousins, grandparents who would have been able to show me photos of my parents. I don’t even know what they looked like.’
When Honey sat a little straighter, and sucked in a breath, Ernie sensed something else was coming.
‘Actually, Grandad, that’s where you’re wrong because I was saving this for the next part of the story. I practised how I’d explain it to you, in stages so you could take it in…’
‘What do you mean… what next part? And what have you got?’ Ernie’s heart was bouncing around in his chest and he wondered if he was going to have a coronary before he found out. Instead of pegging it, he watched as Honey took a small envelope from her pocket and passed it to him.
‘Look inside, Grandad.’
Ernie’s hand trembled as he obeyed. The flap was open and when he shook the envelope, a silver locket, the size of a ten pence piece, slid onto his upturned palm. Carefully, he prised it open with a fingernail edged in soil and there they were. Two faces looking from beneath the glass. A man and a woman and he knew instantly who they were. His words when they came were soft, carried on wisps of woodsmoke.
‘My mam and dad.’
Honey leant against his shoulder and looked down onto the locket. ‘Yes, your parents. It was inside the envelope with Molly’s account of what happened. So now you know their names and what they looked like, but you don’t know the rest of the story. Grandad, you’re going to have to be calm…’
‘The rest? I don’t understand.’ Again Ernie’s heart picked up pace and he noticed that Honey looked nervous, far more than when she arrived earlier.
‘The thing is…’ She twiddled the thread of wool on her glove and wouldn’t meet his eye and this made him feel bad. That whatever it was weighed heavy on her young shoulders and none of it was of her making.
Ernie gently placed his hand over hers, ‘It’s okay, lass. Just tell me.’
Honey nodded and dipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out more sheets of lined paper and after a glance upwards, receiving a kind smile and a nod, she began to read Beryl’s notes, and the words of Mother Molly McCarthy.
CHAPTER33
HONEY
Her heart raced and her stomach roiled as she carefully unfolded the sheets of lined paper that had lain waiting in her parka pocket. Honey knew almost every word because she’d read them so many times, trying to get the enormity of it all straight in her head, never mind working out how she felt about her great-grandmother.
Whether she could find a way to forgive Molly’s actions and see beyond the act to the heart of the matter. A woman who made a decision when she was at her lowest ebb. Alone, frightened, and only hours after giving birth, possibly in pain and suffering from shock. After all, bombs had rained down and almost killed her; and then Molly’s baby had died in her arms.
No matter how hard she’d tried, there was no way Honey could put herself in that situation, because it was so alien. And another thing: she couldn’t be judge or jury, it wasn’t her place to lay blame or have recriminations because what Molly had done hadn’t hurt or affected Honey. Not personally.
Yes, she’d been left with a huge dilemma and could have done without it and was still a bit peeved with her Aunty Beryl. That was a totally different matter, the whys and wherefores of how and when she’d decided to divulge the family secret.
How her Grandad would react was a different matter entirely.
Time to find out.
Honey turned to face Ernie. ‘Before I read what’s in here, I don’t want you blowing your top until I’ve finished, okay? Please promise me you will stay calm.’
His eyes bored into hers, seemingly cool and unmoved by her warning and request, but at least he responded. ‘I’ll do me best, lass. Now get on wi’ it.’
