A Mother's Sin
Page 1
A Mother’s Sin
Mia Henry
AuthorHouse™
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© 2017 Mia Henry. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Published by AuthorHouse 07/18/2017
ISBN: 978-1-5246-5095-7 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-5246-5096-4 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-5246-5094-0 (e)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2016919504
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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
Contents
PREFACE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
CHAPTER 1 - NANCY & EDUARDO
CHAPTER 2 - FRANK & BETTY
CHAPTER 3 - SOUTHERN AFRICA
CHAPTER 4 - AMBER A YOUNG MODEL
CHAPTER 5 - ELLA
CHAPTER 6 - RICHARD
CHAPTER 7 - AMBER’S FIRST MARRIAGE
CHAPTER 8 - MORE WOES
CHAPTER 9 - TORMENTS & ILLNESS
CHAPTER 10 - TUMULTOUS TIMES
CHAPTER 11 - A WIDOWER
CHAPTER 12 - BATTLES REACH A CLIMAX
CHAPTER 13 - TAMMY’S SCHOOL DAYS
CHAPTER 14 - DIVORCE & BEYOND
CHAPTER 15 - FAMILY HOLIDAY
CHAPTER 16 - DRUGS & DESPERATION
CHAPTER 17 - THE SIBLINGS
CHAPTER 18 - ERUPTION
Chapter 19 - THE EXPOSÉ
Chapter 20 - DESPAIR & DESOLATION
Chapter 21 - AFFIDAVITS
CHAPTER 22 - THE AFTERMATH
CHAPTER 23 - THE ONGOING OBSTACLES
CHAPTER 24 - COPING WITH CHANGES
CHAPTER 25 - NEW BEGINNINGS
CHAPTER 26 - 2012
CHAPTER 27 - SURVIVAL
CHAPTER 28 - LIFE
PREFACE
I started writing this book six years ago in 2010. It was inspired by a difficult family situation that took years to resolve. I thought then that being so dramatic, it would make a good story. I started, got to the end of chapter three and laid it aside. Suddenly in 2012, I was confronted with one of the most heart rendering tragedies in my life and couldn’t help recalling my mother’s agony. Do children suffer because of the sin of their parents? It was a deep and disturbing question.
A Mother’s Sin, arose from recollections of my mother’s verbal agonizing, brought back to mind each time a tragedy struck. Reflecting on that, I felt I could add far more to the originally intended story. So six years later, I once again picked up my pen and completed it within four months.
The protagonist in this story is Ella. She had a fair number of tragedies in her life. When tragedy strikes any family, many questions arise.
I had friends who kept encouraging me to write. In particular, a dear friend, Carol-Ann Kelleher, who walked some of my darkest hours alongside me and felt that me recounting my journey, would be healing both to myself and to others.
I would like to think that I have achieved that. Although reliving some moments has proved exceptionally traumatic, I do believe that working on wounds, makes the healing kinder. I compare it to a bad scar. To soften a scar one of the best treatments is micro needling. It involves piercing through its skin cover with hundreds of tiny needle pricks. This ‘injuring’ right into the full depth of the scar releases growth and other factors, which stimulate the formation of collagen and elastin and also assists in forming new capillaries. This then softens the appearance of the scar quite remarkably. This ‘injury’ does not remove the scar completely but helps with its healing and appearance.
Reliving some of the worst and darkest moments in my life has done just that. There was a lot of emotional bleeding, so I look forward to even more healing.
I have tried to portray the raw emotion. I hope it will be an inspiration and a catalyst for healing to those whose lives have also been struck by tragedy.
The book also touches on the underworld of drugs and the harm it does. How it can affect personalities and break up families. But there is always hope of a full recovery.
Mia Henry
Author
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I thank those who inspired me and believed I could write this book. Special thanks for this, goes to my dear friend, Carol-Ann Kelleher. You were there to support me when I needed to be carried and you were there to keep encouraging me to write.
To my family: My husband Michael, my children, my siblings, in-laws and nieces. We were all thrown into the eye of the storm but together we survived. We learnt many lessons along the way. Ultimately, even if we mess up sometimes, as long as we can learn from our mistakes and metamorphose into something more beautiful.
To my children: Taryn Laine & Tegan Ashley, thank you for teaching me so much. Trevor Curtis and Chelsi-Kay, thank you for being the flame in my survival kit.
To my husband Michael: Thank you for your valued contribution to my writing and for all your support and encouragement and believing in me. Your knowledge and sharing your deeper feelings added great value to my work.
To my dad, for always being a sturdy pillar of strength on which to lean on. Your never-ending calmness has been one of the best attributes you’ve taught me.
To my late mom, thank you for the unconditional love you had for your children.
To my friends, my support system: You were always there for me in my deepest, darkest hours of need. You never abandoned me. Special mention must go to Kim Robertson, Carol Jean Fourie, Nicki Kirton and Tina Ketzner. Tina was also often my extra pair of eyes, at times even late into the night, albeit over gin.
To my long time friend and travelling ‘sista’, Zelie Giannetti, whose friendship goes back over 40 years. Distance and time has never broken our bond. Thank you for being instrumental in getting me to laugh again and enjoying this beautiful thing, called life.
To my four Yorkshire Terriers, Nugget, Nunu, Bela & Binki, thank you for being the best therapists ever.
Thank you to my publishers Author House, for making the culmination of my journey, pleasant and hassle-free.
To my children, then and now
CHAPTER 1
NANCY & EDUARDO
In a small town, a civil parish, in the northern coast of Portugal, Richard was born. Barely a few months later, his father Eduardo Gelo, once again ventured into Africa. He wanted a new life for his family. It took Eduardo three years to establish himself well enough there and only then did his wife, Nancy, his daughter Ella and son Richard, join him in the city of gold, Johannesburg, South Africa. Those three years waiting in Portugal had been tough for Nancy.
She had spent some time in Angola, where her daughter Ella was born and had fallen deeply in love with Africa. The pr
ospect of returning was exciting but even more so, that of seeing and being with her husband again.
Nancy and Eduardo had first met in Angola. Nancy was a beautiful, elegant blue-eyed woman with long goldilocked hair. Her passion for the theatre had seen her become an actress.
Eduardo, dark and handsome, often called an Elvis lookalike, was acting in a movie for a French company. He had been given a lead role as a sheriff and the producer had chosen Angola as the location to film the movie. A hidden gem of rambling nature reserves with rugged highlands and scads of pristine scenery situated inland to the east of Lobito, was a perfect spot for a Western production.
Both Nancy and Richard were based in the picturesque shore town of Lobito, a hub of maritime activity. Before the country was ravaged by war, it was at that time one of the main harbors in West Africa. Besides the miles of beautiful beaches, one could never tire of the daily ritual of watching the fiery golden majestic sunsets rippling across the evening sky, enlivening the ocean with glistening and shimmering rays. The local community, were also known for their fun loving and friendly nature, making living in this port paradisiac.
In time Nancy and Eduardo met. For Eduardo it was love at first sight. For Nancy it took a little longer before she fell head over heels in love with Eduardo.
One late afternoon, Eduardo together with his crew, were at a local pub after a sweltering hot and demanding day, when the dames from the theatre company arrived for a refresher. Due to the intense and scorching African heat, it was common practice for the men and woman to spend late afternoons in the local pubs drinking the local beer or cerveja, as it was called.
Nancy glanced over her shoulder and noticed Eduardo perched on the upper deck of the pub, intensely gazing at the picturesque shoreline and the mile long pristine beach impregnated with coconut trees. Looking at Eduardo shirtless, in bermuda pants, she felt her heart miss a beat.
Nancy went over to the bar to collect her cerveja filled caneca (mug), and then walked over to Eduardo.
‘You look deep in thought, mind somewhere in America maybe?’ she asked.
He winked. He had spied her approaching him.
‘Can I join you?’ Nancy asked.
‘My dreams are just getting better,’ he responded with a wry but delighted smile.
Three hours later they were still perched on the same deck, titillating, laughing, joking, stirred on by a good few more cervejas. Eduardo even missed his ‘pot bonding time’, with the boys. They cultivated their own cannabis and on every occasional late afternoon off work they would meet on the beach, at their ‘bonding dune’, for their four-twenty indulgence of the forbidden fruit and the witty banter which followed rapidly thereafter. This indulgence could only happen on days when they didn’t have to get back to set in the evening. Jokingly, they would say it was their creative way of team building. It would seem that for these aspiring actors their métier was breaking free from reality. Spending many hours on film set and using the few that remained to pursue their pleasurable indulgences meant that there was no time for the real world.
When the boys left for their little escapade, Eduardo offered to walk Nancy over to her beach bungalow. They rambled alongside the shoreline, jolly and frivolous, under the influence of the considerable intake of cerveja. Nancy relished in all the flirtatious comments from Eduardo as to how young and beautiful she was.
They arrived at the bungalow, both now bellowing with laughter as they tripped over the fallen coconuts. Despite Nancy’s thundering alcohol-induced headache, she still invited Eduardo into her bungalow for an espresso.
Nancy’s beach bungalow was hidden behind a sand dune under the shade of towering palm trees. A little rustic but superbly clean, neat and very appealing. The only place to sit was her bed draped beneath a mosquito net.
They talked and flirted some more. Although it was a sultry hot late afternoon, there was a gentle breeze coming in through the netted screens on the windows and door. As they both sat on the bed Eduardo would reach over sometimes and whisk a hair off Nancy’s face. They stared into each other’s eyes for a little while. The attraction was intense and the desire overwhelming. Eduardo parted the mosquito net and pulled Nancy onto the bed with him. He slowly rolled her body under his. They were soon entangled in each other’s arms, erotically exploring each other. The lovemaking continued unabated into the early hours of the morning.
Three months passed and it dawned on Nancy that she had not had a period for two months. She confided in her friend Irene.
‘Maybe the change of climate has thrown my hormones out of sync’ Nancy lamented.
‘It could well be so, but best you see a doctor’, was her friend’s response.
Nancy was suddenly overwhelmed by nausea. Deep in her gut she knew.
The news tormented Nancy. It was the early 1960’s. She had embarked on a voyage about which her parents had been apprehensive. The director of the theatrical crew was a close friend of the family so this had given Nancy’s parents some reassurance that their daughter would be fine.
‘What am I to do?’ she sobbed to both the bearer of the bad news, the dotora, and her friend Irene.
The dotora was very understanding and compassionate. She was a young doctor, with a presence and aplomb of a woman ten years older.
‘You go home and think about it. Tomorrow morning when you wake up, your mind will be made,’ said the dotora.
That was easier said than done. Nancy knew any decision meant hell. Her parents were staunch Catholics and she had been raised strictly. To her however, abortion was out of the question. She needed to muster some strength and face the consequences.
Eduardo was extremely supportive. He had loved her from the day he had set eyes on her. To commit to her for the rest of his life was both easy and very desirable. He suggested that they get married immediately. So a whirlwind of arrangements followed and they were married two weeks later.
It took another six months for Nancy to tell her parents that she was heavy with child. She remained traumatized about it and carried this guilt with her for the rest of her life.
‘Our baby must never discover it was conceived out of wedlock’ she would say to Eduardo. ‘This is Africa, the systems don’t work well here, to tweak a birth certificate shouldn’t be a problem’, Nancy muttered, trying to find solace in her own words.
Late January, on a sweltering Tuesday, she lay in the early hours of the morning in discomfort. The heat was intense, the pains were becoming more consistent and fierce. A few hours later, a baby girl was born with far less intensity than the night she had been conceived. The birth was easy.
‘How could I have been blessed with such an easy birth and a beautiful baby?’ Nancy asked, looking quizzically at the dotora.
Eduardo beamed with pride as he looked down at his newborn baby with a mop of jet-black hair.
Eduardo had been offered a role in another movie. The offer had come from a filming company in the USA. So life seemed good for Eduardo, Nancy and their newborn daughter, Ella.
CHAPTER 2
FRANK & BETTY
It stormed the day Amber was born, on the eastern coast of South Africa, the second child of Frank and Betty Bandrock. They were delighted. But from that day forward it appeared that the storm would never abate.
Betty, she was tall and of slender stature, with striking sea blue eyes, and a capable woman who thrived on busy activity. Frank, also tall and lean, with a mop of prematurely silver hair in his late twenties, lacked ambition. He preferred a much more languid lifestyle, providing a mediocre life for the family. Betty also worked to supplement their income. Despite that, family income was erratic and they often struggled to make ends meet.
But there was one perfect aspect to their life. That was, their daughter, Amber. Raising that beautiful little girl with penetrating blue eyes and a mop of golden curls brought Betty and Frank a bucket load of
joy. Every passerby would ‘ooh’ and ‘wow’ every time Betty or Frank would take her out in the stroller.
Their firstborn, William, was a bonny little boy, but never created the attention that they were now experiencing with Amber. Frank then was already entertaining thoughts that one day, his doll, his little girl, would ‘go big’ as a model.
And so Amber grew in her beauty. School was hard for her and Betty would often agonize with Frank regarding her poor performance.
‘O lighten up woman, she doesn’t need all that education, her beauty will bring in the big ones’, Frank would say to Betty.
And so the conflict continued through the early years of Amber’s school career. It was during these years that Frank enrolled Amber in a modeling school.
By the time Amber turned sixteen her eyes were set on Europe. Although she still had four years left of school education, legally she could drop out.
‘O Frank, she is our baby, she is too young’, Betty would lament day after day.
His reply would always be the same. ‘What else is there for her? She has been blessed with beautiful looks and a body for modeling. Let her go and we will all reap the benefits one day.’
Frank always made light of something that caused Betty great anguish.
In no time, Amber was grabbed by a modeling agency. Whether or not her parents approved, she was going. At the least, she knew she had her father’s blessing to fully pursue a modeling career.
Dropping Amber off at the airport was traumatic for Betty. Although she was her baby, Amber’s confidence and looks meant she could easily pass for twenty-six, yet at only sixteen she was about to embark on a journey unfamiliar to both Betty and Frank.
Frank stood proud in the airport departure lounge. Betty on the other hand was a broken woman, but had to put up an appearance of strength in the face of her baby daughter appearing callous and unaware of her mother’s emotions. When Amber did notice tears welling up in her mother’s eyes, her reaction was ‘O mother, please lighten up!’