Traitors arent coming back, not on my watch, muttered a bewildered voice from the crowd gathered on the stairs of Birmingham Maternity Hospital.
If Victor Harper had been the babys father, the murmur would have been far quieter, but here Victor was just a shortened form of the mothers name, Violet Harper, and that made everything more confusing. The fact that Violet had vanished altogetherrather than clutching a tiny envelope with her newbornwas downright extraordinary.
Shes fled! That blasted woman! shrieked Violets mother as she handed the paperwork and a final letter from the runaway wife to her soninlaw, Ian Clarke, and the baby.
The note was the standard template fathers leave in such emergencies: Im not ready for this, dont look for me, I wont abandon my daughter, Ill send maintenance, and thats all. No return address, no explanation why a respectable lady who, only six months earlier, was dreaming of motherhood, would suddenly bolt.
Dont worry, Ian, Violets mother tried to soothe him. Shell come round, her senses will return, shell see sense and come back.
Blythe, Violets older daughter, didnt share the optimism. Her inner voice whispered that Victor would never return. When Violet had a habit of doing things deliberately, a decision to leave meant shed stick the landing.
Shut up, Blythe, snapped her mother when the teen hinted that Violet might be gone for good. Shell be back. Give it a month or two and her motherly instincts will kick in.
Divorce papers arrived three months later. Violet never showed up for the hearings, refused custody, and little Molly stayed with Victor.
Blythe began visiting Ian more often, helping with the baby and keeping him company. After all, they now shared a common misery: Blythe herself had been abandoned by her fiancé a year after her son, Max, was born. Theyd planned to marry once Max turned three and Blythe finished maternity leave, but Max bolted, leaving her kneedeep in bills. At least the court confirmed his paternity, and Blythe scraped together some maintenance.
Shed spent weeks scanning Ians behaviour for any red flags, never daring to tell her mother or sister. In the end, she realised shed been looking at the wrong person. Turns out, her sister was a lot more complex than shed imagined.
It wasnt like theyd been forced to have a child; Violet had wanted one. Ian, on the other hand, suggested waiting five years to save enough to turn his onebed flat into a threebed house, but Victor kept hurrying him.
The result? Victor abandoned Molly, a tiny, defenseless tot who needed a mum.
Perhaps it was because Blythe had already become a mother herself, or perhaps because Molly was, after all, his own fleshandblood, that he eventually began to see her as his own daughter.
Ian, too, occasionally handed Molly over to Blythe with a off to mum now, and even offered Blythe to move in with him and Max, saying there was plenty of room and she could rent out rooms to help pay the mortgage instead of begging her own mother.
When Eleanor learned Blythe had moved in with Ian, she launched a fullblown tirade about the sin of seeing your sisters husband. Ian brushed her off, declaring she had nothing to do with it.
But when the drinks kicked in, he admitted hed be willing to marry Blythe and even adopt her son.
Everything will be fair, he said. You raise my daughter like yours, Ill treat your son as mine. I wont force you into anything, just lets stick together. Its easier for both of us.
He could earn a decent wage, but diapers, doctor visits, and baby porridge left him clueless about where to start. Blythe, on the other hand, had been a preschool teacher before maternity, earning modestly at a private nursery.
Ians pragmatic proposal made Blythe pause. Shed already tasted the fairytale love that never really delivered happiness, apart from her beloved son. Maybe it was time for a more sensible approach? Ian was decent, sober, never a drinker or smoker, and always helped with money. Molly had even started calling Blythe Mum after two years.
So perhaps, after all, everything turned out for the best.
Eleanor didnt turn up for the weddingno one really expected her. The couple toasted with a shot of gin, listened to wellmeaning wishes, and moved back into Ians flat, now home to four of them.
Life didnt change much, except the kids now shared one bedroom while the adults took the other. After all, Blythe and Ian deserved a slice of personal happiness.
Violets sudden appearance one rainy afternoon was like a bolt from the blue. Blythe was in the shower when she heard the front door creak; a courier was expected, but instead Violet lunged at Ian from the hallway.
Darling, Im back! she declared. When Ian briskly pushed her away, she fluttered her lashes and asked, Arent you pleased to see me?
Should I be? Ian replied icily.
Hed rehearsed his response countless times, but when the moment finally arrived he could only ask why shed turned up.
I want to see my daughter. And maybe we could try to sort things out.
I know I wasnt perfect, but can we pretend were a proper family again?
No thanks. Ive already found my own family and Im not letting traitors back in.
Is that about Blythe? You never really loved her, did you? How could you swap me for her?
At that moment Blythe stepped out of the shower, spotted the halfopen nursery door, and saw the children watching like tiny sentinels. Violet, seeing the kids, darted past Ian and scooped up little Molly.
Molly, look how big youve gotten! she cooed, but the baby started wailing, and the little brother, Andrew, lunged at Violet, biting her ankle.
Violet, dressed only in tights and a short skirt, let out a shrill scream, dropped Molly on the floor, and clutched her own sore wrist.
Molly ran to Andrew, and the two children hid behind Blythes legs. Violet glared at them, hissed, You serpents! Youve turned my daughter against me! I wont let this go!
The whole thing turned into a farcical mess. Violet had previously refused custody, and Molly had never known her mother, so any attempt to claim the child failed. Eleanors desperate attempts to reverse the situation fell flat.
In the end, Ian and Blythe cut ties with Violets mother completely, moved to a different city, and never left an address. They now live happily elsewhere, raising three children. Only their closest friends hear Blythes occasional confession that Molly is, in fact, the daughter of a real witch, while Blythe herself is a kindhearted fairy who rescued her.
Andrew swears the storys true, insisting his dad must be a nasty wizard for ditching his goodnatured fairy.
Fortunately, a decent dad showed up, and now the familymum, dad, little sister and brotherlive a storybook ending, just as every good tale ought to.
