Page 48 of A Family Affair
And you might be surprised to hear that I did think of telling Ernie. Many times. When he was sixteen, eighteen, twenty-one, before he married Nancy, but I knew if I did he would hate me forever and I couldn’t risk losing him. And I was terrified that the police would find out and come for me. Lock me up. That it would be in the papers, and everyone would know and hate me. That I’d lose everything. Walter, Beryl, my home, my family.
I’m such a coward. I accept that. I’ve lived my life feeling the mark of a big yellow streak running down my back and what I’m doing now just proves it. Because telling you this, passing my shame and burden on to you, is another cowardly act. But I can’t go without telling the truth, just as much as I can’t look him in the eye, say the words myself and see his pain and disgust and hate. That’s what I’ve always imagined and it’s what I deserve.
I’m so tired of it all, though. It feels like I’ve lived a hundred lives and carried this secret through all of them. It’s weighed me down and I’m glad to have shed it. The choice now, is yours. Whether to tell him or not. And whichever you choose, please know you have my blessing, and I will understand either way.
There is one thing more, that regardless of your choice, I’d like you to say to Ernie. Tell him from the moment I took him in my arms, he became my son, and I did my best. That I loved him, and I always will. And that I’m sorry.
CHAPTER36
HONEY
Nothing. He’d said nothing at all. Not one single word all the way through the reading of the letter. Perhaps he was in shock. What if it was too much and he had a heart attack or a stroke and then it would be all her fault and that bloody Molly bloody McCarthy’s?
Honey chanced a glance at her grandad. He did look a bit pale but not like he was about to keel over, just staring straight away, like he was frozen. She couldn’t stand it anymore.
‘Grandad. Say something, please.’
His chest heaved and his shoulders rose then fell. Good, he was breathing. When he reached over and took her hand, Honey was flooded with relief and gave it a squeeze which was reciprocated. His voice when he found it sounded hoarse yet with a softer edge than before.
‘Thank you, lass. For telling me. That took some bottle and I want you to know this, that I’m glad someone in this family knows right from wrong because them words you read out have eased my soul.’
This, Honey was not expecting. ‘What, you’re glad about it all?’
‘No, not glad. That’s not the right word. More relieved I’d say. Because it’s made sense of it all, everything I felt and knew, deep down. So many thoughts that I couldn’t put into words about howshewas, the way she behaved, how I felt about her I s’pose.’
Honey clung onto his hand, comforted by its warmth, which meant his heart was beating just fine. ‘So you forgive her then? Molly.’
When his head whipped around so fast it might fall of his neck, Ernie startled Honey and the anger in his expression made her eyes widen.
‘Forgive her? NO. Never. I’ll never ever forgive that woman for what she did… dear God, she’s a monster, can’t you see that?’
Honey opened her mouth to speak then changed her mind because truthfully, she didn’t know what the hell to say for the best. Ernie had plenty to get off his chest, though.
‘She had the chance to put it right. To save that poor woman from whatever it was she was going through but oh no… Molly thought of herself first as always. That selfish, self-obsessed woman was evil and took me away from my rightful mother. Someone who I can tell from that letter was mourning the loss of me and my father, both of them I never got to meet, and I know there was nowt anyone could do about my dad, but she robbed me of the chance to find my mum, to tell her I was alive, and she hadn’t lost me. That’s the cruellest thing of all.’
Honey felt him let go of her hand and watched as he sucked in a breath of dusky air then stood and began to pace. This was not a good sign.
‘You’re right. The fact that she knew your mum was alive and the poor woman didn’t know you had survived, never mind having to bury a baby she thought was hers, is very cruel.’ Ernie paced and Honey braced herself for the fallout from what she was about to say. ‘The thing is, Grandad, she explains in the letter why she did what she did, even in the hospital that night and later, when she saw Nora in Manchester. She was scared of saying something; and she was only young, what, very early twenties, and didn’t have anyone to confide in. Perhaps if she had, maybe, told her mum or her sister, they could’ve found a way round it.’
Ernie put both hands on his flat cap as if to hold in his brains that were about to explode and splatter all over the allotment, and all Honey could think was,That’ll be good for the soil and the birds will love it.She was losing the plot, too.
‘But she didn’t did she? Instead she deceived everyone, the whole family, and you know what?’ he pointed his finger at Honey, who could see his hand was shaking, presumably and hopefully from anger, ‘She made a choice between her and me, and chose herself. If she’d loved me, truly loved me like the son she said I was to her, then she’d have put me first. Simple. As. That.’
He began pacing again and when some late afternoon feasters swooped onto his plot to peck for food, he rushed across the soil clapping his hands and stamping his feet. Honey watched relieved that he was taking it out on the birds and not her. They could fly away. She couldn’t and wouldn’t. She had to weather the storm with her grandad.
Then the idea she’d had after reading the letter for a fourth, maybe the fifth time, popped into her head then out of her mouth. ‘What if we looked for her, online. Like on that programme you love watching.’
Ernie’s tut was so loud Honey was surprised he didn’t crack a tooth. ‘What’s the point? She’ll be long dead now. I’m eighty-three so she must have been in her late teens or twenties when she had me which makes her over a hundred. She’s dead and buried and that’s the end of it. All you’ll find, even if you knew where to look because all we have is a couple of names, is a death certificate.’
Honey had already thought of this. ‘Yes, that’s all very true but you might have a living relative or loads of them that you can connect with. Would you like that? To meet some of your real kinfolk?’
Ernie answered immediately. ‘The only person I’d like to have met is my mother. The person who gave birth to me, the one that will fill this gap that’s been right here,’ he tapped his heart, ‘all my bloody life.’
Honey’s lip wobbled and when Ernie’s chin fell to his chest and she saw his eyes close and his shoulders begin to shake, she leapt from the bench, wrapping her arms around him and holding him tight.
She sobbed too, as the weight of someone else’s secret took its toll, on her and her grandad. Her heart hurt, too, because there was nothing worse, in her mind, than seeing a grown man cry. She’d seen her dad like that and never ever wanted to witness such despair in her hero, her Grandad Ernie. But there was nothing she could do other than stay and comfort him. Wait for the tide of tears that were wetting her hair to ebb.
Once they did, Honey guided Ernie back to the bench where they sat, and she asked if he’d like another brew, reminding him of Grandma Nancy’s belief that the strong sweet taste of sugary tea always did the trick. And a biscuit of course. She’d hoped to make him smile but had failed miserably.
