New Arrivals at Hedgehog Hollow

by Jessica Redland

  He smiled wistfully. ‘As I told Josh, she was a lot like you back then – kind, sensitive, always putting others first. I actually got cold feet about going away and leaving her but she insisted I didn’t give up on my dreams saying it was only four years and then we’d have a lifetime together.

  ‘When I was qualified and got a job, we rented a small two-bedroom terrace in town but going from a long-distance relationship to living together was tough. Your mum had built a life for herself in Whitsborough Bay without me. She had friends and a routine and it was hard for both of us to adjust. Your mum liked things done a certain way. She had a quick temper which I’d never seen before and she could be really moody but it’s not like I was perfect either. I hated arguing so I’d go quiet and sulky which wound her up even more.’

  I didn’t say anything but this was unexpected detail. Josh had been right to question their relationship before I came along. It sounded like things hadn’t been quite so rosy between them after all. I nodded encouragingly for Dad to continue.

  ‘Most of the time it was really good and, despite the challenges, I never doubted that your mum was the one. But there were bad times. Way before we got married, I saw flashes of how she is now.’

  ‘See!’ Josh took my hand in his. ‘You’re nothing like your mum. You don’t need to worry about that.’

  ‘Why would you think you were?’ Dad asked.

  I looked at his bewildered expression and squirmed. I couldn’t keep it from him. ‘The subject of having children has cropped up recently and I told Josh I didn’t want any and the reason for that is…’ I paused and bit my lip, hating how much my revelation was likely to hurt him. ‘The reason is because I’m worried I’ll be like Mum. I thought she’d been just like me then changed after she had me. I know it sounds stupid when I say it out loud but the idea of the same thing happening to me is terrifying.’

  Dad’s cheeks paled and he shook his head. ‘Oh, God, Sammie. I never dreamed you might feel like that. I should have been clearer about how things were. You absolutely will not become your mum if you have children.’

  ‘How do you know? You just said you only saw flashes of bad temper and moods but, after I was born, that’s all we ever saw.’

  Dad winced. ‘There’s a reason why your mum turned on you.’

  ‘I know. She never wanted me.’

  He covered his face with his hands and shook his head. ‘There’s something else. I should have told you this a long time ago but it wasn’t… I promised your mum but…’ He shook his head again then removed his hands and looked at me, his eyes full of pain. ‘I think it’s time you knew everything.’

  ‘There’s more?’ My stomach felt in knots. What more could there possibly be that Mum hadn’t already blurted out in anger?

  ‘Your mum was really excited about the wedding and, while we were planning that, things were the best they’d ever been. My best mate from university, Lee, came to stay one weekend. Your mum had met him several times and they’d got on well so the three of us went on a pub crawl. Your mum wasn’t a big drinker but Lee was and we all got a bit carried away. I know my limits and drew the line at the tequila shots but they both kept going. By the time we got to the club, your mum was behaving strangely. She was aggressive towards me but flirty towards Lee and, when we were on the dance floor, she kept pushing me aside and giving him all her attention. He wasn’t encouraging it. He wasn’t the sort to try anything. Inevitably we had an argument and she stormed off to the toilets. She’d said some cutting things and I was seething. Lee felt bad because he’d been the one plying her with drink so he suggested I go home to calm down and he’d wait for her, let her sober up then walk her home.’

  He ran his hands down his face and steepled them under his chin, his eyes downcast.

  ‘Lee didn’t walk her home. He couldn’t find her so he assumed she’d left with me in the end. He met a woman and went back to her place.’ His eyes filled with tears and he released a shuddery breath. ‘I got a call from the hospital at about half three in the morning to say your mum needed collecting. I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. She had a black eye, a bust lip, loads of cuts and bruises. She claimed she’d fallen down some steps then passed out in the alleyway where she was found.’

  ‘Claimed?’ The word came out as a whisper and I shuddered. Please don’t say it! But my thumping heart told me he was going to.

  ‘I came home from work about six weeks later to find her curled up in a ball on the bathroom floor with a positive pregnancy test kit in her hand. She never heard him approaching. She never saw his face but she could still feel the knife against her throat and smell his sweat.’

  He rubbed at his eyes as he fought to contain his emotions but I could hear it all in his voice and see it in his face – the guilt and the pain and the loss.

  ‘She told me that the nurses at the hospital believed she’d been attacked but she’d been adamant she’d fallen. I asked her why she hadn’t let them call the police and I still remember the exact words she said to me. “An extremely drunk female wearing a short skirt and flimsy top who walks home alone after flirting with another man and arguing with her boyfriend about it is asking to be raped, isn’t she?” And suddenly I understood. I hope things have changed now but, back then, she’d have been poked and prodded and made to feel like the guilty party so she’d buried it deep and hoped it would go away. Only it wasn’t going to go away.’

  ‘She had the baby?’ Josh asked.

  Dad shook his head. ‘She couldn’t. She thought about adoption but she hated the idea of the baby growing up and discovering their origins and maybe coming in search of her.’

  I moved to the other end of the sofa and reached across for Dad’s hand. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Your mum was never the same after that. She told me I didn’t have to marry her now that she was “soiled goods”. I was never going to stop loving her because some bastard had violated her. I also had this desperate need to protect her because I blamed myself for leaving her. I knew how drunk she was. It was my responsibility to make sure she got home safely – not Lee’s – and I’d let her down. The only way she’d agree to getting married was if we eloped. She couldn’t bear the thought of everyone looking at her, convinced they’d somehow all know. All those big plans she’d been so excited about were shelved. We went away for a weekend with Louise and Simon and came back as Mr and Mrs Wishaw.’

  ‘Did they know?’ I asked.

  ‘Louise did but, to this day, Simon doesn’t. Chloe doesn’t. Your grandparents never knew. They were really hurt by us eloping. That’s what started the deterioration in her relationship with them.’

  ‘So it wasn’t just because they hated how she treated me?’

  ‘No. That didn’t help but the decline was way before that. They didn’t understand why we’d changed our minds and married without them. They asked questions that she didn’t want to answer so she started to push them away, stopped visiting so often, was aloof when she did.’

  ‘That’s awful. Poor Mum.’

  ‘When she fell pregnant with your sister, she was so excited. Perhaps overly so. Being pregnant and preparing for motherhood was like a project for her – a focus on something pure for the future that had nothing to do with what happened that night. She pored over baby books, practised making her own baby food, knitted and sewed loads of clothes. And then we lost the baby and she became convinced it was her punishment for not going through with the previous pregnancy.’ He slumped back in the chair and shook his head. ‘You know the rest.’

  ‘I can’t believe she went through that.’ I smoothed the pile on one of the scatter cushions beside me, trying to get my head round it. How horrific! It explained so much. Mum claimed she hadn’t wanted me because she hadn’t wanted another baby after losing my sister at seven months but it clearly ran so much deeper than that. She’d thought my sister had been taken away from her because she was unworthy and couldn’t face it happening again so she completely shut
herself off to me. No wonder she’d fallen apart.

  ‘She was a good woman, Sammie. She still is somewhere deep down but we’re talking over thirty years ago when this happened. Mental health was barely a thing. Counselling wasn’t commonplace. When people lost their way either the support wasn’t there, or it was and we didn’t know about it or how to access it. As for going to the police, she saw no point and kept saying it was her fault.’

  ‘I still think she needs help.’

  ‘So do I, poppet. I actually think she has post-traumatic stress disorder but I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve had conversations with her about it over the years. She claims she’s dealt with it and that her relationship with you was nothing to do with what happened. I say it has everything to do with it.’

  ‘I agree.’

  He sighed. ‘If we bring this all back to the starting point and Josh’s conversation with me about whether you’re like your mum, it’s an answer of two halves. You have your mum’s best qualities. You’re like the Debs I remember from our early years. One spring evening a sequence of events fundamentally changed her. It scarred her physically and it scarred her mentally and the Debs who became your mother… she’s what he did to her. And what I did to her because I failed her every step of the way.’ His voice cracked as tears rolled down his cheeks.

  I rushed to his side and flung my arms round his neck. ‘No, Dad. You tried but you can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.’

  50

  Josh

  It was just as well that I hadn’t promised Dad I’d be back at the hospital on Sunday night or even see him on Monday. After Jonathan’s unexpected revelation, there was no way I could leave Sammie on her own.

  ‘I’m struggling to take it all in,’ she said as we fed the Disney Quads. ‘I can’t believe she went through all that. I’m not surprised Dad thinks she has PTSD. It doesn’t sound she ever dealt with the rape or any of the fallout from it.’

  ‘Do you think she ever will?’

  Sammie shrugged. ‘I’d like to think so but she’s tried to bury it for thirty-two years already so I don’t hold out much hope.’ She ran her finger over Belle’s tummy as the hoglet greedily sucked from the syringe. ‘It explains so many things, though. Not just about her behaviour towards Dad and me but other comments she’s made over time.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘You know how I’ve always said she idolises Chloe? Never had a bad word to say about her or to her but now I’m remembering that, when we teenagers, she used to obsess about Chloe wearing short skirts for a night out. She’d go on about it sending out “the wrong message” and beg Chloe to go home and change but, of course, nobody tells my cousin what to do. I remember them having a few heated debates about it but I just put it down to Mum being all adult-y on her.’

  ‘She never lectured you about it?’

  Sammie rolled her eyes. ‘Have you ever seen me wear a short skirt? Not my style at all. She used to lecture us both about knowing our drinking limits and never walking home alone. Parents say these things to their kids but, now that I’m thinking about it, there was an intensity to the way Mum said it that clearly came from personal experience.’

  ‘Did she only say that when you were going out with Chloe?’

  She scrunched her forehead up as she pondered the question. ‘Do you know what? She didn’t. I still got the warnings when Chloe wasn’t with me although it was always like a barked order from a military sergeant rather than given with genuine motherly concern.’

  ‘But she still said it so maybe there was some motherly concern there.’

  Sammie laughed and rolled her eyes at me.

  The logical next step – what Sammie would probably do if our positions were reversed – would be to make more of the chink in her mum’s armour. The downside was that it might send Sammie scurrying back to Whitsborough Bay, hoping to start over. I hated the thought of her getting hurt again so I remained silent and left her to mull it over, hoping that was the kinder thing to do.

  51

  Samantha

  Bank holiday Monday dawned and the first thing on my mind when I woke up was Dad’s revelation about Mum. I could hardly believe it. Yesterday, my heart breaking for her, I’d wanted to drive straight over to Whitsborough Bay but what good would it do anyone? It might make me feel better to try to give comfort but, if she knew Dad had shared her secret, it would likely drive a wedge between them. She could turn an amicable divorce process into something ugly and I couldn’t risk that. Dad had enough stress without me adding to it.

  I kept recalling more things she’d said and done over the years that clearly stemmed from what had happened that fateful evening. If only she’d talked to someone about it, our relationship could have been so different. Yet she’d never wanted to talk about it. When I’d gone across to Whitsborough Bay in March to see whether we could find a way to move forward, she’d accused me of ambushing her and said, ‘What’s the obsession with talking? Why does everything need to be dissected and analysed?’ At the time, I’d assumed they were just words thrown out in anger but now I knew differently. Dad and Auntie Louise had tried so many times to get her to open up and address the past but she’d refused to do so. Had she been afraid that it would all come out if she talked to me?

  She’d accused me of turning her parents against her and taking her husband away from her but now I knew she’d pushed them away herself. Had it been easier for her to project the hate and blame for everything onto me? I did, after all, have a name and a face. Her attacker didn’t.

  Josh spoke to his dad once we were up and organised but Paul insisted he was fine and Josh should stay at the farm with me. I was glad he did because we had a lovely, relaxing day together, tending to the hogs but also walking round the farm, hand in hand, talking about everything that had happened over recent weeks.

  He was worried that he’d interfered by going to Dad but I assured him it was the best thing he could have done because now I knew everything. I was devastated for Mum for what she’d been through and for Dad too but, the more I talked it over with Josh, the more positive I felt about my relationship with her. It filled in gaps. It made me feel like Mum’s behaviour towards me was not as personal as I’d previously believed.

  In the evening, PC Sunning and Fizz’s dad, Sergeant Kinsella, visited Hedgehog Hollow with a full update. As soon as they’d got my attackers back to the station, they’d been able to confirm who they were because they were both in the system. The driver turned out to be Cody Grimes’s younger brother, Connor, and the other degenerate – the one who’d thrown the egg box – was one of his mates. Both were on parole – Connor from prison and his friend from a youth detention centre – so they’d been sent straight back. They’d admitted responsibility for all the incidents so I didn’t need to worry there was someone else at large.

  I asked about other family members picking up the mantle and there never being an end to the harassment. Sergeant Kinsella assured us that they’d already spoken to the immediate family and there would be visits to the extended family over the next few days. The message was loud and clear about what the repercussions would be if they so much as sneezed in the direction of the farm.

  ‘It’s finally over,’ I said to Josh when they’d gone. ‘I honestly couldn’t have coped with any more.’

  He hugged me close and I closed my eyes. No more attacks, no more trying to work two full-time jobs and no more believing I’d caused all Mum’s problems. Things were looking more positive than they ever had.

  52

  Josh

  On Tuesday morning I drove to Wilbersgate to collect Dad for his hospital appointment and reflected on the police visit. Sammie seemed comforted by what Sergeant Kinsella said but I wasn’t convinced it was over. I’d read the letters Gwendoline’s loathsome family had bombarded her and then Thomas with over the past four decades. Hate like that passed down from generation to generation wasn’t going to disappear just like that. If anythin
g, they were the sort of family who’d blame Sammie for Brynn, Cody and Connor being in prison. I wouldn’t say anything to worry her but I’d certainly be extra vigilant about security.

  Dad’s oncologist, Dr Burrows, confirmed a date in June for the second round of chemotherapy but anticipated that a stem cell transplant would also be needed. I heard Dad’s sharp intake of breath at those words. He kept a poker face but I knew that, like me, he’d been hoping it wasn’t going to go that far.

  Dr Burrows turned to me. ‘I understand you want to be tested?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘Okay. Before we do that, let me explain what we’re looking for. We need a donor who matches or closely matches your dad’s tissue type. When someone needs blood, there are lots of donor matches because there are only eight blood groups. With tissue type, there are significantly more variations. Each person’s tissue is made up of five genes, each of which has two variations, one inherited from the mother and one from the father. Biological siblings are therefore usually the best match for donation because they have the same parents but children are not. We don’t need it to be a ten out of ten match but it needs to be closer than a child is likely to be.’

  He opened a drawer on a wall unit and removed a package. ‘I’m very happy to test you today, Josh, but I need to know first that you understand how unlikely it is that you’ll be a match for your dad.’

  ‘I understand.’ Didn’t mean I wouldn’t get my hopes up. I couldn’t help it. I was going to be on tenterhooks waiting for the results.

  ‘Would you be prepared to go on the register in case you’re a match for someone else? Testing you for your dad is not conditional on your answer, by the way.’