A Corner of My Heart

by Mark Seaman

  “I am afraid, Ruth, that following your conversation with Helen last night, and much as I had hoped to avoid doing so, I have been forced to tell her the full detail of all that has transpired between us recently, and not just your malicious version of events, but rather the entire story and the real truth.”

  I stood rooted to the spot, my stomach churning with emotion as he continued.

  “I have now shown Helen the items that were discovered in your room after I had noticed them as being missing from around the house along with her diamond earrings; the same diamond earrings you coveted so recently when helping her to dress for a particular function.”

  “I didn’t covet them I simply admired them, Mrs Taylor knows that.”

  “Please don’t argue semantics, Ruth. The truth is you took the earrings along with the other items I discovered here in your room to sell on for personal gain. There is also the sum of money found under your mattress which you also gained illegally from the sale of other objects you had stolen previously. I can only assume that in an effort to deflect attention from your own misgivings or in some crude attempt to get even following my informing you that we would need to contact the police, you decided to invent this unforgiveable story about my being the father to your unborn child.”

  I felt my chest tighten as I struggled to breathe and looked towards Mrs Taylor who had begun to cry again. I moved to speak but he put up his hand to silence me. “Please, Ruth, have the courtesy to let me finish.” He looked at me as a prize fighter might when about to deliver the final and potentially fatal blow to his opponent.

  “Ultimately my real sadness in all of this, and particularly for Helen who has invested so much faith and mistaken trust in you, is that not only have you chosen to abuse our previously heartfelt generosity towards you, but more especially that you have surpassed even this betrayal with your latest decision to lie so outrageously about the two of us supposedly having shared a bed together. Clearly, and, as I have stated already, this was presumably done in an effort to create some form of marital wedge between Helen and myself and to throw our deep and loving relationship into disarray.”

  I felt fit to burst and unable to keep quiet a moment longer.

  “Please, Mrs Taylor, you must believe me, I would never do anything like that, to hurt you or any of your family I…” Mr Taylor interrupted me, his delivery becoming firmer and more authoritative.

  “I’m afraid it is far too late to appeal to my wife’s better nature, Ruth. You should have considered where this might lead before embarking on such a contemptible journey of deceit and subterfuge.”

  He stepped back, taking his wife’s hand as he did so. “Now please listen carefully to what I am about to say as there will be no further discussion after this.” He paused for a moment as if allowing the seriousness of what he was about to say to fully register.

  “Helen has asked me, against my better judgement I might add, not to involve the police at this stage as we have retrieved most of the items that were taken, along with the monies you gained from the sale of the other goods. Personally speaking, I still feel you should face the full consequences of your actions following a thorough investigation by the authorities. However, because Helen has asked me to be lenient and because none of us would welcome the inevitable publicity associated with such an embarrassing state of affairs I have decided, on this occasion, to acquiesce to her wishes.”

  I felt my body shake in disbelief and mounting anger towards my accuser, but at the same time felt powerless to respond in any way short of screaming my innocence aloud. I also recognised that such an outburst would have little effect other than to demonstrate my apparent inability to argue my case in any coherent way. Indeed it would simply add fuel to the perception that I was not only foolish and irresponsible but had also lost control of my mind and any sense of responsibility for my actions. I watched as he let go of Mrs Taylor’s hand and pulled the cuff of his shirt slightly forward of his jacket sleeve as if to straighten it. Then placing his hands behind his back he continued.

  “And so, with all of this in mind, it is with a degree of sadness on both our parts that we have come to the sorry conclusion that you will leave both our home and employment with immediate effect. Further, you will receive no form of reference from us as to your suitability to undertake any similar style of work or service either now or at any time in the future. That is presuming you are ever foolish enough to apply for such a position again, certainly here in the London area at least.”

  The momentum of his speech and assured delivery increased slightly and I watched as he spat out the odious conditions of his revenge for my having dared to speak out against the orders for secrecy he had demanded regarding our joint deception. I took a small crumb of comfort that soon all of this would be over and I wouldn’t have to spend time in his company ever again and certainly not in my bed

  “And finally, should we be contacted at some point by another potential employer seeking a recommendation or commendation as to your work and moral ethic we would of course feel obligated to explain the true reasons for our dispensing with your services. This would be done in an effort to save them from facing the same very real and deep seated personal disappointment in your efforts that sadly we have experienced in recent days.”

  I looked at Mrs Taylor, sensing she was not entirely comfortable with what she was hearing. Also that she had been left with little room to argue my case by her husband who by now was in full flow and obviously enjoying this opportunity of not only putting me in my place, but also in ridding himself of me once and for all along with any other potential menace I might present to his smug and self-satisfied existence.

  “Am I allowed to say anything in my defence?”

  He paused momentarily, his voice returning to a more calm and measured tone.

  “I’m afraid there is no defence for what you have said or done in recent days, Ruth. Nor as to the upset you have brought to this family, especially my wife, and for that I am afraid I can never forgive you. Helen would argue differently and maintains that there must be some vestige of goodness in you despite all that has transpired. It is because of this and my desire to honour her wishes that I have agreed to pay you in full until the end of the month. This money will serve not only as remuneration for your duties carried out to date but also as severance pay. Although I might add, I would be well within my rights to withhold any further monies from you in view of your recent actions and there wouldn’t be a court in this land that would argue differently.”

  Mrs Taylor stepped forward. “Please, Robert, can we stop this bickering now and leave? You have said all that we intended and simply going over everything again will do none of us any good.” She put her hand to her forehead. “I’m afraid all of this tension has made me feel quite unwell. I think I would like to lie down for a while.”

  I could feel the tears filling my eyes once more as I witnessed the deep sadness displayed across her face and tried one last time to argue my innocence.

  “Please, Mrs Taylor, I beg of you to listen to me, none of this is true. I would never do anything to hurt you or the children you must know that?”

  She took a step towards me, her face and expression readily portraying her obvious pain and distress.

  “I’m really not sure I know very much about anything anymore, Ruth. But what I am clear about is that for whatever reason, you are the one at the centre of this whole sorry affair and I won’t have my children or my marriage put at risk or threatened by this awful episode any longer. I have trusted you not only with the care of my family but also as my confidant at times, sharing some of my deepest thoughts and hopes with you. And for some perverse reason because of that I find myself still standing here trying to defend your words and actions when I should actually be agreeing with Robert when he says, quite rightly, that all that has happened in the past few weeks is utterly indefensible.” She raised her han
dkerchief again to wipe away her own freely flowing tears. “Whilst not everything may have happened in the way it has been described the truth still remains that certain valuable objects have gone missing from our home only to be discovered in your room, along with money that has apparently come from the sale of other personal items that were taken. Also, we know now that you are pregnant following your visit to Doctor Anderson. The only thing therefore that is in doubt is as to who the father is? It is here I am afraid that both my sympathy and patience for your circumstances evaporate entirely and run dry.” She looked directly at me with no hint of the affection we had so often shared between us now evident in her eyes. “How you could ever expect me to accept that Robert might be responsible in any way for the condition you now find yourself in is beyond belief. I have no idea why you would choose to say anything so hurtful, other than to agree with his explanation that you were seeking some form of heartless revenge against him following the discovery of the missing items and money found in your room, and of his threatening to take legal action against you because of this. I can only surmise you had sought to blackmail him in some way and in so doing pressurise him into not saying anything to me. Sadly you have underestimated our feelings for each other as husband and wife. Fond though I may have become of you since you joined our household I am afraid those feelings pale into insignificance when compared to the love and respect I have for my husband, the father of our children and my dearest friend.” She paused as if preparing herself for what was to come next. “The truth is, Ruth, you have chosen to betray my trust, and for whatever reason you feel you might have had for doing that I can say without any shadow of a doubt that is something Robert would never do.”

  I stood motionless, my heart breaking as the tears rolled down my cheeks once more. Mr Taylor took his wife’s arm as she continued to struggle in holding back her own emotions.

  “I think we’ve all said enough, and I am sure, despite all the pain you have caused us, Ruth, even you would not want to see my wife upset more than she already is? I suggest for all our sakes we end our discussion here and that the two of us leave you to finish packing while I take Helen to our bedroom to lie down and begin to recover from what has been a traumatic few days for her, indeed for both of us. I will meet you at the front door in fifteen minutes to see you off the premises.”

  Mrs Taylor turned to leave and spoke without looking at me. “Goodbye Ruth.”

  As they left the room Mr Taylor allowed himself one more glance in my direction, his smug expression saying more than any amount of words could ever do. I felt my body shudder in an automated response to the door closing and also in the reluctant acceptance of my fate. My thoughts went back to the day I left Birkenau, and horrific though my life and existence had been in that awful place I could still recall the soaring feeling of hope that had flooded my being as I stepped out of that terrible prison camp and on towards whatever challenges the future held for me.

  Little did I know those feelings of joy and excitement would turn again so quickly to ones of such deep sorrow and despair?

  As the front door closed behind me on the house I had begun to think of as home I felt a distinct chill in the air as rain clouds gathered overhead. I turned my collar up and stepped out to face a new set of challenges seemingly even more uncertain than the ones I had anticipated when leaving the death camp. As I walked along the pavement my stomach lurched and a wave of nausea came over me. Was it simply tension and nerves that had knotted within me or was it a reminder that whatever the future held it was not only myself I had to think about now, but also the new life growing within me?

  Twenty–One

  I thought a lot over the next few days about what Dad had said and knew that he and Mum were right in suggesting I would be the poorer if I didn’t arrange to meet with Ruth and hear her side of the story, a story that for all my misgivings had shaped each our lives and made us the people we were today.

  Maybe if I hadn’t listened to Jenny when she first asked about my parents, or had taken the easier route and simply said they were dead or that I didn’t know anything about them, then perhaps none of the mental anguish we had all experienced in recent months would ever had happened. But it was too late now, the door to my past had been opened and the only way forward was to walk through it and meet whatever lay before me head on. We couldn’t change the events of the past but hopefully in discovering the truth about what had really happened we could each move forward to a more settled future.

  Jenny was excited when I first told her I had decided to meet with Ruth and asked if she could come as well. I did think about it for a while, wondering if having her with me might soften the blow for each of us and keep the conversation polite and respectful, with neither Ruth nor I wanting to upset Jenny. However, I soon realised this would also mean the two of us, having taken this momentous decision to meet, might then feel constrained in our ability to discuss the deeper detail of our experiences, along with the things we both really wanted discover about ourselves and each other from our past. So after due consideration I eventually said no. I also didn’t want Jenny to see her mum upset, and I was pretty sure that I might shed a few tears or show my frustration if the conversation between us didn’t go the way the both of us hoped it might. Jenny was fine about it, especially after Mum and Dad supported my thinking. We agreed at some point Jenny could meet her grandmother, providing it was at the appropriate time, and that it was the right thing to do for all concerned.

  Even with the correspondence we had already exchanged it still felt strange writing to Ruth and finally agreeing to meet with her. On the one hand here was my mother who hadn’t seen me since I was seven weeks old saying how much she was looking forward to seeing me again and talking with me, and here I was asking why had it taken twenty eight years for her to come to this conclusion. I was also interested to know what had changed over the years to make her feel this way. No matter how hard I tried I simply couldn’t understand why, if having given your own baby away at just a few weeks old, presumably forever, would you now be so keen to see that same child twenty eight years on as an adult? When I first wrote to her I was fully expecting my request for contact to be rebuffed but the reply I received was the exact opposite. This had confused me and only added to the list of questions I needed answers to. Would she be willing to address those same questions, ones that only she knew the answers to, but for me were still a mystery to be solved? Would she speak to me about what had really happened and be willing to relive her own experiences of that time all over again? I comforted myself with the fact that nervous though I was about meeting her I still had the love and support of Jenny along with Mum and Dad to fall back on should all my hopes and dreams be dashed when the two of us finally spent time in each others company.

  When we first started to consider where the best place might be for us to meet I proposed somewhere public, perhaps a café or restaurant, as this would give us both the option to leave if the conversation became too difficult or either of us felt threatened in some way, not physically but more through the enormity of our actually being together in the same room again after such a long time. Dad and Mum suggested meeting in a public place might appear to be a good idea on the face of it but that it would also require us to be aware of everyone else in the room. This would mean, as would be the case if we allowed Jenny to be present, we might then feel reticent about speaking openly and honestly about certain areas or events in our lives, and certainly for me of the perceived failings of Ruth in her love for me as my mother. This indecision about where to meet continued for some time until Ruth herself suggested I might like to visit her at home. My immediate reaction was to say no, but after talking things through with Mum and Dad her proposal began to sound like a good idea.

  “If you go to her house you will be free to talk openly,” Dad suggested. “And if you find yourself feeling uncomfortable in her company or you’re not getting the answers you are looking
for you can simply excuse yourself and leave.”

  Mum nodded in agreement. “Of course you are welcome to ask her here, but if things didn’t work out it might prove even more embarrassing if you then had to ask her to leave. She might also feel awkward about coming to the house that her daughter had been adopted into and grown up in. Dad and I would go out of course and leave the two of you alone but even so it would place an added degree of pressure on her, perhaps on the both of you? Meeting at her house would also give you a chance to get the feel of what sort of a woman she is. You know, in being able to see inside her home and take note of the pictures and other personal items she has around. I always think you can tell a lot about people from their nick knacks and ornaments.”

  Dad smiled at her. “Well if that’s true I’m not sure what it says about your mother and her huge collection of thimbles. She had shelves of them she’d collected over the years, although she never did any knitting with any of them. Mind If she had she could have used a different one every week for a year and still had a few left over.” He laughed. “So what did that say about her, except that she was a stitch short of a knitting pattern to start with?”

  “You don’t use thimbles to knit with,” countered Mum.

  “And it wouldn’t have made any difference if you did. She still didn’t use them; they just collected dust like half the other stuff she kept lying around.”

  I felt the need to come to Mum’s defence. “I used to enjoy playing with Granny’s thimbles when I was small. I gave them all a name and she would tell me where each one had come from.”

  Dad laughed again. “I rest my case. A woman who collects thimbles for no good reason and a granddaughter who gives them names! Honestly what chance does a man have for a sensible conversation around here? Perhaps I should have a word with Chris before he gets any further involved with the women in this house?”