The Last First Time

by Andrea Bramhall

  “It might have been his fault, not hers.”

  Alison nodded. “We know that now, Gina. Back then…” She shook her head.

  “But they went to all the trouble of adopting you.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why would they do that if they were ashamed of you? Or going to be ashamed of you?” She shook her head, not sure she could express exactly what she meant.

  “No, I don’t think they were ashamed of me. At least, I don’t think that now. Back then I suppose I did. Now I just think they were ashamed of how they got me. Of what they had to go through to get the family they were supposed to have, that society expected them to have. That they couldn’t have their own kids.” She shrugged. “It made me feel a bit different, I guess. And my mum was already gone then, so I couldn’t talk to her about it. That and the fact that Dad never spoke of it again.” She snorted a quick laugh. “I thought I’d imagined it until I was emptying the house when he died and found all the papers and my real birth certificate.” She shook her head. “Anyway, where was I?”

  “Just the three of you.”

  “Oh, right. Well, I wanted to be like all the other kids, going out and having fun. Like teenagers do. And I met your father. He was a little bit older than me, as you know, and he seemed so sophisticated, so grown up compared to all the other boys. Well, your grandfather forbade me from seeing him. I should have listened, but of course, I knew best. I told my dad that I was old enough to decide who I was going to see and that he couldn’t control me anymore.” She chuckled. “I was a stroppy teenager, and I got myself a good belting for that, just like every other stroppy teenager got at that time. He wasn’t a cruel man, just a strict one. But then I didn’t know the difference. I didn’t like it, so I ran away with Howard. We got married, and before I knew it, I was pregnant.”

  Gina frowned. She knew her mother and father had been married for several years before she was born. “But—”

  “I had a little boy.”

  Gina’s mouth fell open, and her brain stuttered to a halt. She had no sibling. She’d grown up an only child and had never even really thought about having a brother or a sister. To find out there was one…that there was yet another secret kept from her… It was like she’d lived an entirely different life in the same house as her parents. Yes, there were things that, as a parent, she protected Sammy from, but they shared a home, a life, and what happened to them both affected them both. So they both dealt with it all. At a level Sammy could handle wherever possible, but the past few months had shown Gina that Sammy could handle way more than Gina wished she had to. Clearly her own parents had never shared that sentiment. “I have a brother?”

  Alison shook her head. “No, he died while I was pregnant with you. He got tonsillitis. Not usually fatal to children, but he’d never been poorly before. Just the odd sniffle, you know, like children get. So they put him on penicillin.” She sniffed. “We didn’t know he was allergic to it. He came out in these big, black spots that swelled up. They thought it was meningitis, so they gave him more penicillin.”

  Gina plucked a tissue from the box and handed it to Alison.

  “Thank you.” She blew her nose. “It was the allergy that killed him, but they didn’t know that then. They thought it might be something I could catch from him. They wouldn’t let me in with him. He kept crying for me, and all I wanted to do was hold him, but they wouldn’t let me in to see him. They didn’t want to risk you too.” Her shoulders shook with the heaving sobs as she held the tissue to her face and cried.

  Gina put her glass on the table and moved to sit next to Alison. She wrapped her arms around her shoulders and held her as she wept. She held a woman weeping for her dead infant, her son, and as Gina offered her comfort, so many pieces fell into place. They tumbled into order as Gina remembered what little she could of her early childhood. The sad, almost vacant look on her mum’s face in pictures of her as a little girl. Gina had always thought it was something she’d done wrong. Something wrong they saw in her. How self-absorbed we are when we’re young. Until our Galileo moment when we realise that the universe doesn’t revolve around us.

  “It’s so easy now to look back and know I was depressed,” Alison continued slowly. Her words coming in fits and starts as she wiped at her face, and caught her breath. “I was grieving, and I should have gotten help, but I don’t think the doctors knew all that much about depression back then. Not really. All I knew was that I couldn’t be with my little boy when he died because I was pregnant. And I know it isn’t rational, but I blamed you for it. It didn’t help later when your father started to show his true colours.”

  “Later?”

  Alison nodded slowly. “He wasn’t always bad. He just got worse and worse. He wanted a son, you see. But after Michael died, I didn’t want to have another baby. I couldn’t face it. He blamed me for Michael’s death. Told me I’d failed him as a wife.” She laughed harshly. “As if that was the only thing I was good for. So, as much as he wanted it, I refused to give him what he craved most. My little rebellion, I guess. Anyway, he started to take it out on me in other ways.”

  “So he wasn’t always violent?”

  Alison shook her head. “Not at all. We were bad for each other, and instead of bringing us together, losing Michael tore us apart. In our grief, we brought out the worst in each other and couldn’t find a way to change that. I’m not even sure your father wanted to.” She wiped her nose.

  Gina wasn’t able to make sense of every new emotion that filled her only to be replaced moments later by a new one, one even more intense than before. Every scrap of information was pushing her closer and closer to emotional overload, and she knew it would take days, weeks, to process it all. There was no way she could do it all in one night. Instead, she decided that tonight, all she should do was listen and try to absorb what she could. The rest she’d deal with later. She made a mental note to call Jodi and make an appointment. Between the bombing and Alison’s visit…maybe a little counselling session was in order. But that would wait until tomorrow, or Monday. Right now she had to get through the rest of this conversation. “Did you want to?”

  She shrugged. “At one time, perhaps. But not for long, and not until it was far too late for he and I to ever make it work again.”

  “You wanted it to be over?”

  Alison nodded. “For many years before it happened.” She sighed. “I think if he were honest, he did too. Like I said, we were bad for each other. But that’s not really what you need to know about. I’m here to see if there’s anything we can change between us, or if that’s too late too.”

  From everything Kate had told her about Alison showing up on her doorstep, Gina knew that this was the ending that Alison wanted. But was it what she wanted? The question was still so new to her—and the emotions still so raw—but there was something Alison hadn’t yet touched on. Something Gina still had to know before she could even think about a future relationship with Alison, because it would impact on the most important person in Gina’s life. She pulled away from Alison and slid across the sofa. “I suppose that depends.”

  “On what?”

  “Did you want me to get rid of the baby?”

  Alison frowned. “I wished you weren’t pregnant.”

  The words struck Gina like a cannonball slamming into her chest and expelling the air from her lungs in one great gasp. She grabbed at the fabric covering her chest like it weighed too much and she had to be free of its constricting presence. It was too much. There could be no room for this woman in her life. Yes, it was good to know what had been behind the pitiful relationship they’d had while Gina was growing up. She was sure that would help her in the long-term…maybe. But there was no room in her life for anyone who wished her daughter had been terminated before she was even born. There was no way Gina was going to introduce someone to Sammy who had the potential to make her daughter feel bad about herself. There was already way too much of that in Sammy’s life. Between Connie’s death
and the circumstances surrounding it—including Sammy believing for three godawful days that she was the one who had killed her—and Sammy’s father’s absence from her life because of his own poor parenting decisions that had led to that fateful morning on the marsh, well, Sammy had enough to deal with. Alison would not be another millstone about the child’s neck. “So, yes—”

  “No. That’s not what I said or what I wanted.”

  “You said you wished I wasn’t pregnant.” Gina ran her fingers through her hair, like she wished she could grab the thoughts—those memories—and pull them from her brain. She could still see her father’s face so clearly as he’d raised his hand and pointed to the door. “You’re no child of mine”, he’d screamed at her, spittle collected at the corner of his mouth. “My daughter wouldn’t shame me or herself shagging every Tom, Dick, or Harry that fancied a look in her knickers.” He’d spat at her. She could still feel the sticky mucus from his throat like it had burned her face and left its mark forever upon her skin. “Whore” had been the last word her father had ever screamed at her before she’d run.

  Gina took a deep breath before she said, “What else could you possibly mean?”

  “For me, getting pregnant imprisoned me in a marriage where I was never happy. If I hadn’t had Michael, I’m not sure your dad and I would’ve lasted those first few years, and then, when I was pregnant with you, well, I came to associate pregnancy with being trapped, not with the wonder of having a beautiful child at the end of it. I didn’t want you to get rid of the baby. But I wished you hadn’t got trapped. Because that’s what it was for me. I was seeing my own nightmares again in what you were going through, rather than trying to help you find your path through it.”

  Gina frowned. She couldn’t imagine ever seeing the world from her own perspective, if Sammy needed her, but then she’d never suffered the devastating loss of a child. Her child. Her firstborn child. She’d never been stuck in a loveless marriage, abused, controlled, and seemingly despised by the person who should understand you most. She’d never been forced to face, day after day, the person she blamed for not being able to say goodbye to that child either. Would she have been able to put all that aside if she saw Sammy looking at the same possible future?

  She had to be honest, with herself if no one else. And the truth was, she didn’t know. She’d like to think that she would put Sammy and Sammy’s needs first. In her heart of hearts, she was pretty sure she would. But she also accepted that she and Sammy were closer than she and Alison had ever been. A sad fact, but a fact nonetheless.

  “You said you wanted the truth,” Alison said quietly.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “The truth is I was selfish. I was scared. I was lonely, and I only thought of myself and what I could face from one day to the next. Your father never hit you. I was confident he never would. He loved you.”

  “He had a funny way of showing it.”

  Alison nodded. “Yes, he did. But he loved you. He only wanted what was best for you. What he considered best for you, not necessarily what you considered best for you. His anger was always directed at me. And I had to make the decision daily whether I could take another beating for standing up to him, or if today was a day to keep my mouth shut and hope he’d sleep on the couch.”

  The tears welled in Gina’s eyes. How different it all could have been if Alison’s depression had been treated. How all their lives could have changed.

  “I was very good at pushing his buttons.”

  Alison smiled. “You kept us on our toes.”

  Gina smiled. “Is that your way of telling me that Sammy’s my own fault?” She couldn’t help but let her smile broaden. Sammy was certainly full of mirth and merriment. Mischief followed her as faithfully as Merlin did.

  “I wouldn’t be so presumptuous. I’ve only met the little scamp for five minutes.”

  Gina chuckled. “You wouldn’t be wrong. She can get herself dirty in a clean bath and I never, ever know what a letter brought home from school could be. A report card full of A’s or expulsion. Either’s possible.”

  Alison chuckled. “Then, yes. It’s your own fault.”

  “I was never that bad.”

  Alison shrugged. “You had more to be fearful of than she does.”

  Gina mulled it over for a minute. Would she have been as mischievous as Sammy if she hadn’t been terrified of going home to tell her mother and father what she’d done? Yes. Without a doubt. Suddenly she was more grateful than she ever imagined she could be for Sammy’s naughtiness. As much as people would tell her it meant she was getting it all wrong, in her eyes she could see now she was getting something right. Her daughter didn’t live in fear of her. To Gina, that suddenly meant more than anything else.

  Fear had caused Gina to suffer panic attacks on and off since she was a teen. Had made her too scared to have a relationship, to have friends, to open up to people. Because she was always afraid of being rejected by them, just as she’d been rejected by her parents before she even understood what rejection was. So many tiny pieces of her own psyche and behaviour suddenly made sense. “I don’t want to be scared anymore.”

  Alison shook her head. “You don’t need to be. He can’t hurt you.”

  “I wasn’t afraid he’d hurt me.”

  Alison watched her. “Then what were you afraid of?”

  “What had already happened.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I told you I needed to know the truth, that knowing it was going to be painful. And it has been. Believe me. It truly has been. If words could inflict actual wounds, there’d be blood everywhere—”

  “I’m sorry.” Alison whispered, tears welling in her eyes again.

  Gina waved the words away. “I asked for the truth. I can’t and don’t blame you for giving me what I asked for. But I guess I’m asking now if that’s what you want. Do you want the truth? Even if it will hurt?”

  Alison took a deep breath, clearly steeling herself for whatever Gina had to say. “Yes. I think we both deserve the truth.”

  Gina nodded, reached for her glass before she realised it was empty, and leant back in her chair again. “I was afraid of being rejected even further. I felt I was hanging on to my family by my fingernails. I knew neither of you wanted me there, but I had no idea why.” She laughed bitterly. “At one stage, I thought you could see all the naughty thoughts in my head, and that was why you hated me.” She swiped angrily at the tears running down her cheeks. “I was just a little kid, and I didn’t know anything except I wasn’t good enough to love. Not even for her own parents to love her. And that affects a child. Deeply.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Gina shook her head. “I understand why now. You were ill. I get that. But that doesn’t change the effect it’s had on me all these years. Until Kate, I never found anyone to love, because I didn’t think anyone would stick around. I have panic attacks. I’m terrified still that Kate will find someone better and ditch me. And I’m most scared that one day my daughter will grow up and realise that she doesn’t love me either. That I was a bad mum.”

  Alison shook her head. “No. I saw the way she looked at you. She adores you.”

  “She’s nine. She adores anyone who feeds her.”

  “That’s not true.” Alison reached forward to take Gina’s hand but stopped before she made contact. “You will have your ups and downs with her. She’s your daughter, and there will be times when you’d gladly strangle her and times when she’ll tell you venomously that she hates you. But you’ll come through those because she loves you and you love her more than anything else in the world. And you will always, always, put her first. I can see that. And as much as I love you, and I truly do love you, I know that I can’t say the same thing. I put myself first too many times.”

  “You were protecting yourself from being abused, Mum. I don’t think—” Gina frowned as Alison’s face paled and her eyes widened again. “What? What’s wrong?”

  �
�You called me ‘Mum’.”

  Gina realised what she’d said, but she didn’t know what had changed in her head to make the switch. “Sorry.” Suddenly she wasn’t looking at Alison Temple any more. She was looking at her mum, the woman who had brought her into the world, nurtured and loved her as best as she was able, despite being about as broken and downtrodden as a woman could be and still function. Hearing her admit how she’d failed Gina had softened her resolve to see her as a different woman, as Alison Temple. While the reasoning behind her silence was flawed logic, Gina could see that it was an extension of Alison’s own pain, rather than a manifestation of Gina’s predicament. When Alison—her mum—had spoken of Sammy, there had been nothing but warmth in her voice.

  Was it enough for them to build a relationship on? Gina had no idea. But clearly her overwhelmed brain was telling her something. That it was ready to take a chance? She was too tired and too emotionally wrung out after everything she’d just learnt to make a decision tonight. It could wait. One thing she was sure of was that they had time now. And a chance, if she was ready.

  Alison shook her head quickly. “No, please don’t be sorry. I just never really expected you to call me that again.”

  Gina smiled sadly. “What did you think I’d call you?”

  Alison chuckled. “Maybe bitch.”

  “It crossed my mind when I first opened the door.” Gina laughed.

  “Good to know.” She joined Gina in laughing, slowly at first, just a few chuckles, then more. Until they were both laughing loudly.

  Gina pulled her into a tight hug, and the laughter turned to tears.

  “You’re keeping me awake.” Sammy said from the doorway, her hands planted firmly on her hips, and a look of confusion on her face. “Why are you laughing and crying?”

  “Because grown-ups are crazy, kiddo.” Gina reached her hand out, and when Sammy stepped forward and took it, she pulled her into a hug too. “Didn’t I tell you that?”