Evelyn Hartwell clapped her hands the moment she heard the front door creak. My boys back at last! she exclaimed, her voice trembling with the kind of joy that only a mother feels when she sees her child after weeks apart.
Nicholas Hartwell, his cap still damp from the drizzle, shuffled in and called, Greetings, Mum. He paused, then added, Im not alone. He nudged forward a thin lad in spectacles, a battered knapsack slung over his shoulders.
Oh dear, a grandchild, is it? Whos this, Timothy or Oliver? I cant tell without his glasses.
Nicholas lowered himself onto a chair. Hes Victor, my son out of wedlock. Remember when I and Zoe were apart for a year? That was when I got involved with Valerie. She bore Victor, and in a rash moment I put my name on the birth register. He exhaled a weary sigh.
Evelyn snapped at him, Dont talk like that in front of the child. Hes too young to understand the mess of your past. Victor, go to the sittingroom and have a look at the telly while we sort things out.
The boy slipped out without a word, heading for the small parlor. Evelyn lowered her voice, Does Zoe know about him?
She never liked the wife the son had, always meddling and gossiping.
Nicholas flinched. Mother, if she found out shed have tossed me out on the street long ago. I built this boy from the ground up with my own hands.
Evelyn sighed, Youre a reckless sort, not a proper man. Always at Zoes heel, and now youve brought a son into the mix without a thought for her. Shell find out and Ill have a right of my own to answer.
Nicholas, his nerves jangling, tried to explain. Valerie was about to get married, then she ran off with a new lover down to the south for a month. She called me in a panic, saying, Take the boy wherever you like, even home. I went mad, because I have a wife; shed throw us both out. She warned me shed make me pay. Ill give you the birth certificate, sort it out as you see fit. Thats the end of it for me. Valerie barely forgave me; she didnt speak to me for half a year. So I thought, let him stay with you a month, then Ill come back and collect him. He avoided her eyes.
Evelyn shook her head. Thats how you were as a child, and youve never changed. Help me out, then. Where shall I put the lad? Hes not even of our blood, is he?
Nicholas waved a hand. Hes mine, no doubt. Valerie isnt a saint, but a truehearted woman.
Silence fell. Evelyn sprang to her feet. What am I still doing sitting here? Lets get him something to eat.
Nicholas rose. Sorry, Mum, I must be off. Zoes waiting at home. Ive told her Im off to the city for spare parts. Feed Victor, Ill be back soon.
Evelyn embraced her errant son, whispering, God be with you, my dear.
Victor ate quickly, eyes never leaving his plate.
More? Evelyn asked, noticing how fast he finished.
No, thank you, he replied, rising from the table.
Take a walk outside while I finish dinner. Whats in your knapsack? she inquired.
Just my things, he muttered.
Will you wash them yourself, or shall I?
For the first time his eyes widened with fear. I dont know how. Mum always did the washing.
Evelyn lifted his small sack. Come on, Ill see whats there and give them a rinse.
He stepped out as she sorted through a few shirts, a pair of shorts and a set of underpants. Not much, isnt it? No warm jumper either. Typical motherly oversight, she chuckled, dunking the garments in a basin before turning to a cherry tart she was baking.
A shout erupted from the street. Evelyn dropped the basin, her flourdusted hands flying to her apron.
Whats happened? she called, rushing out.
Victor wailed, clutching his leg. A goose nip! It hurts! tears streamed down his cheeks.
Why were you near the geese? Theyre out back, not in the garden, she asked, examining the red welt.
I only wanted to look at them, he sniffed.
Never have you seen geese before? she asked, bewildered.
I have, but I never got close.
Alright, lets get you inside, Ill rub some ointment on that. She took his hand and led him back.
After dinner she laid him on the settee and found sleep elusive. The night felt heavy, as if fate itself were pressing down. She heard a soft whimper and, leaning close, heard the boys voice: Will Mum come back for me?
He whispered, I heard Aunt Vera and Uncle Victor saying theyll send me to an orphanage when they return. Theyll only pick me up for holidays. I dont want that; I was happy with Mum. Uncle Victor never calls me his name. Youre kind, but Im not wanted.
Evelyn felt her heart seize. She held his frail body close. Dont cry, Victor. I wont let anyone hurt you. Ill speak to your mother, and youll stay here. We have a good school, teachers, well go mushroom picking, berry gathering, even milk our cow. A bit of fresh milk will make you strong. Youll see. Tomorrow Ill introduce you to Paul, a lad as hearty as a bun, who loves his milk. Will that be alright?
He clutched her neck. I want that. Will you keep your promise?
She pressed a gentle kiss to his crown. You have my word.
Years slipped by. Valentina, their younger daughter, visited now and then, bringing parcels, always hurried off by her husband, Tom, who insisted she return to work. Nicholas appeared rarely. Zoe learned of Victor and blamed Evelyn, claiming the grandchildren werent needed, that only stray extras were welcome.
Evelyn cared little for the quarrels. The skinny boy had grown into a sturdy young man. Each morning she prepared his favourite dishes, glancing out the window, hopeful.
One day, a young soldier in a crisp uniform entered the house, his voice low. Grandma, Im home. Where are you?
Evelyn rushed to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Victor, my dear grandson!
Will you be going with Mother? she asked.
He set his fork down, surprised. Going with which? The one who left me and only brings trinkets once a year? No, I wont go. You are my mother now, and thats not up for discussion. He sat down, began to eat.
Evelyn, eyes shining, dabbed away a tear. At last she had a grandson who would stay, a source of comfort in her twilight years. The blood that ran through his veins was hers, and that was enough.
