A grim discovery came about quite by chance. My little four-year-old sister, Lucy, had developed an umbilical hernia. The doctors insisted we act swiftlythe sooner the operation, the better. But Lucy flatly refused to go to the hospital without our father. We waited for him to return from his lorry route, and he walked her right up to the operating theatre.
«Daddy, will you wait for me here?» my sister sobbed.
«Where else would I go, love? Of course Ill wait. Why are you crying? Youre my brave girl!»
«Im not crying. Im just sighing hard!»
And with that, she was wheeled away. It was a routine procedure, nothing complicated, but the hospital required our parents to donate blooda strict policy.
«Shouldnt you test first?» Dad asked. «Its only likely to match one of us. No sense in taking more than needed.»
«Theres no such thing as too much blood,» the doctor said firmly.
Mum and Dad both gave blood. Mum turned pale, swaying as if she might faint any moment. She couldnt sit still afterwardkept darting back to the nurses, chattering nervously. Then Lucy was wheeled out, and Dad went to meet her, just as hed promised. He stayed by her side the whole weekend. Mum finally relaxed a little, checked on Lucy, then dragged me home despite my protests.
«I could stay with her too,» I insisted stubbornly.
I was eleven at the time. Lucy, my fair-haired little sister, was the person I loved most in the worldmore than Mum, more than Dad. How could anyone not adore her? She was an angel, a golden-haired cherub in flesh.
Picture a small market town with its modest hospital. New, well-equipped, even boasting its own blood bankimpressive for such a place. But a village is still a village. Three days passed, Lucy was home, and Dad was preparing for another haul. He popped out for cigarettes but returned looking stormy.
«Daddy!» Lucy wailed from the nursery (she was still on bed rest). «Did you bring my marshmallows?»
Dad left the shopping bag in the hallway, told me sharply to go to the nursery, then steered Mum into the kitchen by the elbow.
«John John, whats wrong?»
The conversation that followed was one I wouldnt understand for yearsback then, neither Lucy nor I had a clue. She was too young, and I obeyed Dad without question. Off to the nursery we went. Lucy whimpered, demanding Daddy and her sweets, so I offered to read to her. Thank God, she agreed.
In the kitchen, John, eyes wild, backed MumZoeagainst the wall. Nowhere left to retreat.
«Is it true? Lucy isnt mine?»
«WhathowJohn, have you lost your mind? How could you say such a thing?»
«Ill tell you how. Im A-positive. Youre O-positive. But hers» he jerked his head toward the nursery, «is B-negative. If theres a mistake, we can test again.»
Zoe shoved him aside, sank into a chair, and dropped her head into her hands with a groan.
«Those bastards. I begged them! What did they want? Jealous of us, John. We had everything. Beautiful children.»
«Begged them, did you? Right. That clears it up.»
He left her weeping at the table. One misstepjust one moment of weaknesswith an engineer on a business trip. John was always away driving. In films, lorry drivers were rugged and romantic. In reality, it was lonely and bleak. Zoe had thought, why not? He probably wasnt faithful either, out on the road for weeks. She leapt up to chase after him, but he was already gone. Only a box of marshmallows remained on the table.
After his next haul, Dad sat me down for a serious talk. He asked me to leave with him.
«Dad, what about Lucy? Mum? Cant you stay?»
It felt like a boulder had been dropped on me. Rocks are made of layersId seen documentaries. This weight was no different. Fear of losing Dad. Fear of choosing. Either way, Id lose someone. Crunching the numbers in my head, I chose to stay. Lucy plus Mum outweighed Dad by quantity, though my sister alone mightve tipped the scales.
Dad met with me often after that. It was as if hed forgotten Lucy existed. I didnt understand, but I trusted that if he could explain, he would. At first, Lucy moped and criedheartbreaking to watch. Then she asked about him less and less, retreating into herself, lost in her toys. I couldnt grasp why this punishment had fallen on her, but I had my suspicions. Mum, though
Mum lost her mind. She started dragging rubbish home from the binsfirst harmless, useful things, then just anything. She stopped caring about us entirely, murmuring over her hoarded treasures. How a young, pretty woman could turn into that in eighteen months baffled me. But I never told Dad. Our neighbour, Auntie Mary, looked after Lucy and me sometimes. I managed with Dads child support, but the stench clinging to our flat kids at school mocked me relentlessly, though I avoided fights.
«Auntie Mary, can you teach me to iron?» I knocked on her door one day.
«Gracious, lad, youd need to wash them first!» she said, wrinkling her nose.
«Pointless. I tried. But Im seeing Dad tomorrowI need to look decent.»
«Does he» she gasped. «He doesnt know about Zoe?»
«I wont tell him. He leftits not his problem anymore!»
She let me in, then paused. «Bring Lucy too. Ill tidy you both up. And fetch your clotheschange here. Whatever I can do»
Thats what we did. At least I didnt reek like a tramp at school anymore. But kind Auntie Mary didnt stop there. She tracked down Dad and shamed him. He met me after school.
«Why didnt you say anything?»
«What good would it do? Would you have come back?»
«No. But you could live with me.»
«And Lucy?»
Silence. I shook my head and turned toward home.
«Wait! Lucy could stay with Gran.»
«Grans got a new husband. Shes not bothered with us.»
«Right. Takes after her» Dad cut himself off.
He tried talking to his former mother-in-law anyway.
«John, are you mad? Why would I want little ones underfoot? Im starting fresh!»
«But Lucys your granddaughter!»
«Pity.»
«What?!»
«Pity maternitys certain, but paternity isnt. If I had a son, whos to say his children were mine? But shes mine, alright. And Ive my own life.»
«Christ. Shouldve looked closer at you before marrying Zoe.»
One morning, I woke to find Mum gone. Her hoard remainedshed at least spared our roombut shed vanished. I cracked the window, letting icy air dilute the stench, fed Lucy, nibbled something myself, then took her to Auntie Marys.
«Mums gone. Ive got school.»
«Gone? In this freeze? Where?»
My wayward, broken mother ended her days on a distant rubbish heap. Why she froze instead of coming home, no one knew. Auntie Mary said the authorities would decide our fate now. And they camea woman who took one look at our flat and turned to Mary.
«Could we handle the paperwork at yours?»
«Come in,» Mary sighed.
«Hold on.» Dads voice echoed up the stairs. «Sorryjust back from a haul. Theyre my kids.»
«And the flats yours?» the woman scoffed.
He didnt even glance inside. «Pack your things, lad. Were going home. Well sort this place later.»
«And Lucy?» I whispered, terrified.
«Course. Lucy too.»
My sister peeled herself from the wall and shuffled toward him.
«Daddy?»
«What, love?»
«Is it really you?»
He scooped her up, hugging her tight with a heavy sigh.
«Its me. Im here. Its alright.»
«Dont leave us again, Daddy!» Lucy wailed.
I froze. Surely this would doom usthe stern woman would take us despite having a living father. But shed lost interest, gossiping with Mary instead. And Dad held Lucy, tears streaming down his face. Hed tried so hard to resent her too, to stay away, but love won out in the end. Love for ushis children.
«I wont. Im never leaving you again,» he choked out.
