by Alex Brown
‘I beg your pardon!’ Linda said, indignantly.
‘That’s right. Take umbrage … like you always do—’
‘I most certainly do not.’ She rearranged herself in the chair, and then, ignoring Sam, turned to Barry and said, ‘Do you remember when we were teenagers? We used to ride around the valleys and out into the fields?’
‘No, can’t say that I do,’ Barry glanced up from the newspaper, flicked his eyes to Sam and then busied himself by burying his head back in the page.
‘I’ll make us all some more coffee and fetch in a cake, I’ve got a lovely Victoria sponge going spare … I always make extra, just in case. Shan’t be a minute.’ Dolly darted to the door, clearly desperate to defuse the awkward atmosphere. Tony shot Linda a look, then pushed back his sleeve to see the time on his watch.
‘Thanks Gran,’ Sam called after her, keen to rein things in and get them back to pleasant. Holly would be home soon. Now certainly wasn’t the time or place to challenge his mother. But she just wouldn’t give it a rest, and opened her mouth again.
‘Oh, you must do, Barry. The good old days – now, how old were we?’ She paused to make a show of trying to remember by tapping an index finger on the side of her mouth, her eyes closed tightly. ‘I wasn’t long out of school. And you fancied me!’ Barry visibly groaned, shook the newspaper out and turned the page. Sam rolled his eyes and squeezed Chrissie’s hand, wishing his mother would be quiet. And her version of past events were clearly figments of her imagination … Barry had no idea what she was going on about.
‘Not long now. She’ll be home any minute,’ Sam said, smiling at his wife, both relieved that Holly was safe and their animosity forgotten. And he hoped it would stay this way … He wanted that more than anything. Even more so now, and for Holly’s sake too.
‘Don’t blame you, though, I was a bit of a looker back in the day,’ Linda harped on. Sam tried to block out her drunken drivel and focus on what he was going to say to Chrissie later on, when the others had all gone home and Holly was safe in bed. No more arguments. He was prepared to do whatever it took, and was going to make sure she understood that they would do it together. ‘We had some fun times in the back of that car of yours.’ And Linda did an exaggerated wink in Chrissie’s direction. Sam bristled. He glared at his mother, not daring to even open his mouth this time as he was that close to losing his temper with her.
‘Come on now, Linda,’ Tony said. ‘That’s enough. You’re embarrassing the poor girl. Sam, and Barry too.’
‘It’s fine, Tony. Honestly, let’s just get Holly back and then we can all relax,’ Chrissie said, charitably. Sam nodded, thinking how kind Chrissie had been in tolerating his mother over the years. He hadn’t really appreciated this until now. Even though they had hardly seen Linda, it somehow made her behaviour even worse with it being concentrated into slots of total awfulness here and there.
‘Yeah, maybe we should go, Tony, and leave them to—’ Barry started, clearly keen to escape from Linda, but was interrupted when Chrissie’s mobile rang.
‘It’s Jude!’ she said, quickly answering. ‘OK. Yes, that’s fine. Jude please tell her I love her. Her dad too,’ she smiled at Sam. ‘And we’ll see her soon.’ Chrissie pressed to end the call and turned to him. ‘Holly wants to stay there for a bit longer … Myles is organising fish and chips, her new favourite apparently,’ she smiled wryly. ‘And she’s checked her levels and everything is fine.’ Her voice tailed off.
‘That’s good then, maybe she just needs some space. She’s safe and we are here waiting for her, no matter what,’ Sam nodded and squeezed Chrissie’s hand.
‘And Jude will look after her,’ Tony added.
‘You’re too soft, that’s your problem, Samuel.’ Linda was up on her feet now, tottering around looking for her travel bag. ‘I’m sure there was another bottle here somewhere.’
‘You’ve had enough!’ Sam told her. ‘Have a coffee instead and sober yourself up.’
‘Just like your father … he was boring too,’ Linda slurred, and nearly fell on top of Tony after catching the heel of her shoe on the corner of Dolly’s tassel-trimmed rug.
‘What did you say?’ Sam snapped, impulsively. Tony turned to face him after helping Linda to steady herself. Silence. He could feel Barry, Tony and Chrissie’s eyes on him. But Linda was more interested in draining the last drop of wine from the goblet. ‘Come on, Mother. I’m waiting. Tell me all about my father. I want to know.’ And as soon as the words were out of Sam’s mouth, it was as if a dam within him had burst wide open to let all the frustration and disappointment flood out from him. The resentments that had been building up over the decades: Linda going away when she needed him most; the put-downs; making him feel like he wasn’t good enough; her constant chipping away at his self-worth; her disregard for her granddaughter; her nasty comments about his wife; her never really giving a damn about him, or anyone else for that matter. Not ever. And he’d had enough. Had enough of trying to keep it all inside him. Enough was enough. He looked again at Chrissie … now was his chance to wipe the slate clean and start afresh for his family, and there was no way he was going to let his mother spoil it any more.
He was done with her.
But first, he wanted the truth.
‘A Cortina!’ Linda shrieked, standing back up. ‘That was the car.’
Sam stared at Barry. What was she going on about now? But then something else happened within him. A realisation. A hot trickle of adrenalin radiated from his chest. To his arms. Hands. Fingertips. Legs. Head.
No.
It couldn’t be true.
Barry?
But hadn’t she just gone on about all the fun they had in the back of his car?
Sam stepped backwards, with his mind hurtling all over the place like a ball inside a pinball machine. He inhaled through his nostrils, and shook his head, desperate to get a grip on something tangible. Something real to anchor him.
‘Barry is my dad!’
Dolly appeared in the doorway, then stopped as if frozen in time, with a tray full of coffee and cake in her hands.
Nobody said a word.
Barry paled. Dropped the newspaper and then slumped into the nearest dining chair. Sam swivelled his eyes onto him. Scrutinising him for clues.
‘It’s not true.’ Barry shook his head vehemently. ‘It can’t be. She’s drunk. And I never went near her. Not ever.’ He looked at his mate Tony.
More silence.
Sam fixed his eyes back on his mother.
‘Err … um, no. Don’t be silly,’ Linda started with a nervous little laugh. ‘Of course he isn’t. Rob was your dad.’ And she started rummaging in her travel bag. ‘What’s got into you all of a sudden?’
‘Don’t lie!’
‘What on earth is going on?’ Dolly asked, and after placing the tray down on the sideboard she moved into the middle of the room and stood directly opposite Linda. ‘Why does Sam think that Barry is his father?’
‘Gran, I’m so sorry,’ Sam said softly. ‘I never meant you to find out like this.’
‘Find out what?’ Sam took her hands in his, hating how this had all panned out. What the bloody hell was wrong with him that he couldn’t have just kept his mouth shut? At least until he had a chance to get his mother on her own. But it was too late now.
‘Why don’t we sit down, Gran? Or go into the kitchen, perhaps; it will be easier in there to explain—’
‘Oh for goodness’ sake. Stop fannying around,’ Linda said with sudden clarity, and leant into Dolly to tell her. Brutally so. ‘Samuel here isn’t your real grandson. Happy now?’ And she turned to Sam and glared at him as if he were to blame, as though it was all his fault for making Linda break an old lady’s heart.
‘You hateful old wit—’ Sam yelled, willing the tears of anger and frustration and devastation not to spill out onto his face. It was Chrissie who steadied him, moving next to him, her calming touch giving him strength.
‘Well, at lea
st I made sure you had your real father’s name,’ Linda pouted, seemingly oblivious to the impact her bombshell announcement was having on everyone in the room. Dolly covered her mouth with her left hand in horror. Tony stepped forward to place an arm around her shoulders, his heart going out to the elderly woman. Finding out like this that your own deceased son wasn’t the biological father of your adored grandson, after all these years, was unbelievably cruel.
‘What the hell do you mean?’ Sam was shouting now. Absolutely furious that his mother was being so disgustingly blasé about it all. Not to mention the hurt and anguish she had inflicted on Dolly. ‘Sam? Are you saying that my biological father is called Sam?’ He racked his brains in a desperate attempt to figure out if he knew anyone else called Sam. Anyone at all. Anyone in Tindledale who was around the right age to be his dad. But what if the man wasn’t from Tindledale? He could be from anywhere, for all he knew.
‘No,’ Linda spoke, this time with at least a shred of decency as she flitted her eyes downwards to the rug beneath her shoes.
‘Then tell me. Tell me right now, or I swear to God I will—’
‘Come on, it’s OK Sam, we’ll sort this out, it’s going to be—’ Chrissie tried, and went to put her hand on his arm again. But Sam was so fired up that he was having none of it, and pulled away from his wife and fixed his eyes on his mother.
‘I’m waiting. I want to know the name of my dad. My biological father. Right now!’
An agonising silence followed.
Barry, Tony and Chrissie all bowed their heads, none of them daring to even breathe, but all wishing they were anywhere else but here right now.
Dolly moved into the centre of the room and right up close to Linda.
‘You know, I always had my suspicions about you,’ she said, calmly and with dignity, pointing a finger in the other woman’s face. ‘I knew you weren’t to be trusted. You may have hoodwinked my dear son, Robert, for all those years, but you never fooled me.’
‘Oh purlease, Dolly Morgan, you aren’t all that yourself, you know,’ Linda sniffed. ‘You always did like to look down your nose at me … so you aren’t the charitable, kind old lady that you make yourself out to be.’
‘Right. That’s enough,’ Tony intervened. ‘You need to leave right now. Come on. Get your stuff together and I’ll take you to the station.’ And he went to bundle Linda from the room.
‘Take your hands off me.’ Linda wrenched herself free.
Tony, not the kind of man to hassle a woman, lifted his hands up in the air and away from her. Chrissie helped Dolly over to the sofa to comfort her.
‘She’s not going until she’s told me!’ Sam thundered. ‘And then you can get on your way.’ He stood in front of his mother, fearless now the secret was out and the worst of the damage had been done. He would pick up the pieces with Dolly later, tell her how much they all loved her, no matter what.
‘Yes, all right! But there’s no need to shout in my face.’ Linda scanned the room, clearly realising that she was snared like a fox in a trap. ‘It’s true. Robert wasn’t your real dad.’ A collective gasp ricocheted around the room.
And she fixed her eyes on one man.
They all turned to see.
‘Tony is!’ she paused for dramatic effect. ‘Samuel Anthony Morgan … meet your real dad, Tony Darling!’ And at that exact moment Jude appeared in the sitting room with Holly by her side.
‘Dad?’ she stopped moving and stared at him. ‘What’s going on?’
But Tony didn’t look at Jude. His eyes, full of sorrow and hurt, were fixed on Linda. How could she? He looked at Sam. His head moved from side to side as if in slow motion. It was as though time had stood still. Frozen. I didn’t know. I never did. I was infatuated back then, but I stopped it. I stopped it all as soon as I saw that ring. The big, shiny engagement ring. Barry used to let me use the Cortina. And I was weak. It was wrong. All wrong. Rob didn’t deserve it. He was my best friend. The words were going round and round inside his head but nothing was coming out of his mouth. Tony felt as if he was sinking. The floor, like quicksand now around his legs, pulling him under. The room swayed. He put a hand to his head.
‘Dad! Please. Please, someone tell me what’s going on?’ Jude darted forward and took hold of her dad’s arm, helping him as he staggered to the nearest chair. Chrissie quickly took Holly from the room.
‘I didn’t know!’ Tony managed to get the words out as he tugged to loosen his shirt collar. ‘I’m really sorry, Sam. I honestly didn’t know …’
Chapter Twenty-Five
Two weeks later …
The day of the May Fair, and Holly felt so happy that she thought her heart might soar so high and burst right out of her chest into a million, trillion, tiny, fluttery pieces of joy. The church bells of St Mary’s were ringing out across the fields as they all walked in the glorious sunshine to the Blackwood Farm Estate. Aunty Jude … her actual proper aunty now – how brilliant was that? – had sorted it for her and Katie to be the first ones in the swimming pool. And she couldn’t wait. But the best bit of all was that Mum was being really nice to her now. And Dad too. Mum had said that life was much too short for recriminations and resentments, or something like that … anyway, it didn’t matter now, because Dad had just put his hand on Mum’s arm. Yes, she could see them up ahead, even through the trees; she knew she hadn’t missed it. Dad definitely had touched her, and Mum hadn’t even moved away from him or anything. And that meant one thing. They were getting back together. In time for her birthday! The wish was actually starting to come true.
‘Come on,’ Holly said to Katie, who was walking alongside her, ‘race you.’ And, after grinning at her best friend, Holly started running as best as she could, heaving the big bag of all her swimming gear up under her arm, her long red silky scarf flaring out behind her. And she didn’t feel breathless or weak or anything. She felt on top of the world. The happiest girl alive. And it was amazing.
What a surprise she’d had when she’d got back to Granny Dolly’s house that night she had run away. Everything had gone mental. She had heard Grandma Linda arguing and then, later on, Dad had explained that Tony was actually his dad, which meant he was her new granddad. And Holly thought it was brilliant. She liked Tony. So she had told Dad right away that this meant their name was Darling too. How mad was that? Holly Darling. She loved it. And had already altered all her social media stuff. Her friends thought it was just a thing, you know, change your name for a laugh … she had been Holls Horror for Halloween, with a cute pumpkin emoji. But this wasn’t just a thing … it was for real. And Lauren, her diabetic friend from the hospital had Snapchatted her to say that Holly Darling was the perfect vlogger name … so she was definitely going to think about launching her own YouTube channel, and had even put it on her wish list. Everything was going to be great now. She just knew it.
Sam put his hand out to touch Chrissie’s arm, relishing the moment he had thought would never come around again. After that night, when Holly had disappeared for those agonisingly long few hours, he and Chrissie had eventually managed to talk, just like he had hoped they would. Late into the night, once everyone had gone, they had sat in Dolly’s sitting room, and talked. Properly talked.
Chrissie had told him how she really felt: that she was scared to let go, to trust him. She wanted to change, to open herself up to sharing life’s responsibilities. And he had been honest too. He told her that he’d never felt he was good enough, that anything worth having would be taken away, ever since his father – yes, Rob would always be his father – had been snatched away from him and he’d been rejected by his mother. They didn’t have all the answers, and they would always do things differently, but it was a start. There was no such thing as perfection and they couldn’t return to how they were in the past. There was a lot of work still to do. But they had both agreed that they’d like to try to rebuild what they had. Together. Chrissie still loved him, and he loved her. It was like Rob had said in his letter, ‘
love is all you have at the end of the day …’ So Sam had got in touch with a marriage guidance counsellor and booked a course of sessions for them.
And Chrissie confirmed that there was never another man … ‘Gavin from the choir is happily married to his husband, John, you idiot. We’re friends, that’s all. He’s been a great support these last few months,’ she had said when Sam asked. ‘And he kindly gives me a lift because it’s tricky to get to the village hall when there’s only one bus on the hour every hour.’ They had laughed at that, reminiscing how this quirk of country living had hindered their relationship in the early days before Sam could afford his first car. The times he spent sitting in the bus shelter in the village square, aching to see her, and a whole hour felt like an eternity. But she had lived at least three fields away from him and the narrow country lanes were pitch black without street lights, so there really was no alternative.
They had talked about Rob and the blood tests too, and the revelation that Sam had discovered about his family heritage.
‘Why didn’t you tell me you had all that going on too? I had no idea, and it must have been so difficult for you … I would have liked to have shared that, shouldered the burden with you,’ she had said softly, when they’d broached the subject of Tony, who had been absolutely brilliant since finding out he was Sam’s biological father. Of course, he had been devastated not to have known earlier, especially since his best friend, Rob, had died. Tony wasn’t sure Rob ever knowing would have been fair on him, but he would have liked to have stepped up more, openly been more of the dad Sam hadn’t had after Rob passed away. But, now was now, Tony had said, and nothing could change what had happened to date, so … and if Sam was in agreement, then he’d very much like the chance to be the best dad that he could be for him from now on.
