A dreadful discovery came about by sheer chance. My little four-year-old sister, Lucy, had developed an umbilical hernia. The doctors insisted it mustnt be delayedthe sooner the operation, the better. Lucy flatly refused to go to the hospital without Father. We waited until he returned from his haul, and he walked her all the way to the operating room.
«Papa, will you wait for me here?» sobbed my sister.
«Where would I go, sweetheart? Of course Ill wait. Why are you crying? Youre my brave girl, arent you?»
«Im not crying! Im just breathing hard!»
And with that, she was wheeled away. A simple, routine procedure. Still, the parents were asked to donate blooda strict requirement.
«Shouldnt you test first?» Father asked. «Only one of us would match, surely. No point in both giving blood needlessly.»
«Theres no such thing as needless blood,» the doctor said firmly.
So Mother and Father gave their blood. Mother was pale, swaying as if she might faint any moment. Afterward, she couldnt sit stillflitting in and out of the treatment room, whispering to the nurse. When Lucy was finally brought out, Father, true to his word, went to meet her. He stayed with her the whole weekend. Mother, somewhat calmer, checked on her daughter before taking me home, though I resisted.
«I could stay with her too,» I insisted stubbornly.
I was already eleven. Lucy, my fair-haired little sister, was the one I loved most in the world. More than Mother or Father, perhaps. Who wouldnt adore her? A proper little angel, golden-haired and bright.
Picture a small market town with its modest hospitalnew enough, properly equipped, even boasting a blood bank. But a backwater is a backwater. Three days after the operation, Lucy was home, and Father prepared for another haul. He went out to buy cigarettes for the road but returned dark as a thundercloud.
«Papa!» Lucy wailed from the nursery (she was still on bed rest). «Did you bring my marshmallows?»
Father left the shopping bag in the hall. He ordered me sharply to the nursery, took Mother by the elbow, and steered her into the kitchen.
«John John, whats the matter?»
A conversation unfolded thereone I wouldnt understand until years later. Lucy was too young, and I obeyed Father without question. To the nursery it was. When Lucy whimpered for her father and sweets, I offered to read to her instead. Thank God, she agreed.
In the kitchen, John, wild-eyed, backed MotherZoeagainst the wall. There was nowhere left to retreat.
«Is it true? Lucy isnt mine?»
«How couldJohn, are you mad? What are you saying?»
«Ill tell you what Im saying. Im blood type A-positive. Youre O-positive. And hers» he jerked his head toward the nursery, «is B-negative. If theres been a mix-up, we can always retest.»
Zoe shoved him aside, stumbled to the table, and collapsed into a chair. Dropping her head into her hands, she groaned:
«Bastards. I begged them! Whats it to them? Jealous, John, of our life. We had everything. Such lovely children.»
«Begged them, did you? Right. That settles it.»
He left her weeping in the kitchen. One misstepjust onceout of loneliness, with some engineer passing through. Her husband always away, always on the road. In films, lorry drivers were romantic figures. In real life, it was cold and hollow. Zoe told herself she had to actwho knew what he got up to on those long hauls? She jumped up to chase after him, but he was already gone. Only a box of marshmallows remained on the table.
When Father returned, he spoke to me gravely. He wanted me to go with him.
«Dad, what aboutLucy? Mum? Cant you stay?»
It felt as though a slab of concrete had been laid across my shoulders. Id watched documentariesrocks were made of layers. The weight crushing me was no different. Fear of losing Father. Fear of choosing. Either way, someone was lost. A crude calculation decided it: Lucy and Mother outnumbered Father. Though Lucy alone might have tipped the scales.
Father met me often after that. Lucy, it seemed, hed forgotten. I didnt understand, but I knewif he could explain, he would have. At first, my sister moped and cried, a pitiful sight. Then she asked after him less and less, retreating into herself, lost among her toys. I didnt grasp why this punishment had fallen on her head, but I could guess. As for Mother
She lost her mind. She began hauling rubbish from the bins into the housefirst harmless, useful things, then anything at all. Soon she scarcely noticed us, hunched over her hoarded treasures, muttering and sorting. How a young, pretty woman could become this in a year and a half baffled me. But I said nothing to Father. Our neighbor, Mrs. Mary, looked after us when she could. Fathers child support covered food, barely. The stench clinging to our flat, thoughschool was torment. The other children jeered, but I avoided fights.
«Aunt Mary, could you teach me to iron?» I asked, knocking at her door.
«Gracious, lad, you ought to wash them first!» She wrinkled her nose.
«Pointless. I did. But Im seeing Dad tomorrowI cant turn up like this.»
«Does he not» She gasped. «Hes no idea about Zoe?»
«I wont tell him. He leftits not his business anymore!»
She let me in, then reconsidered. «Fetch Lucy too. Ill tidy you both up. Bring your clotheschange here when you need.»
So we did. At least I no longer reeked like a tramp at school. But kind Mrs. Mary didnt stop there. She sought out Father and shamed him. He met me after school.
«Why didnt you tell me?»
«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.»
«I see who you take after» He cut himself off.
Father tried speaking to his former mother-in-law all the same.
«John, have you lost your wits? What do I want with little ones? Ive a second youth, you might say.»
«But Lucys your granddaughter!»
«Pity.»
«What?!»
«Pity motherhoods plain as day, but fatherhoods anyones guess. Had I a son, and he childrenwhos to say theyre mine? But there she is, plainly mine. And yetIve my own life.»
«Yes. I shouldve looked closer at you before marrying Zoe.»
One morning, I woke to find Mother gone. Her hoard remainedshed at least kept mine and Lucys room clearbut shed vanished. I opened the window; the frosty air thinned the reek. Fed Lucy, nibbled something myself, then took her to Mrs. Marys.
«Mothers gone. Ive school.»
«Gone? In this freeze? Wheres she got to?»
My wretched, mad mother ended her days on a distant tip. Why she froze instead of coming home, no one knew. Mrs. Mary said the authorities would decide our fate now. And they came. A woman surveyed our flat, then turned to Mary.
«Might we handle the paperwork at yours?»
«Come through,» Mary sighed.
«Hold it!» Fathers voice echoed up the stairs. «No ones going anywhere. Just back from a haul. These are my children.»
«The flat yours too?» The woman smirked.
Father didnt even glance inside. «Pack your things. Were leaving. Well sort this place later.»
«And Lucy?» I whispered, dread gripping me.
«Of course. Lucy, youre coming too.»
My sister peeled herself from the wall and shuffled toward him.
«Papa?»
«Yes, love?»
«Is it really you?»
He swept her up, holding her tight, and sighed deeply.
«Its me. Im here. Its all right.»
«Dont leave us again, Papa!» Lucy wailed.
I froze. Now shed give us away, and the stern woman would take us despite Father. But the woman had lost interest, gossiping with Mary instead. And Father, tears streaking his face, cradled Lucy. Hed tried so hard to resent her, to stay awaybut love for her, for us, his children, had won.
«I wont. Im never leaving you again,» he choked out.
