Genius

by Clare Nonhebel

CHAPTER 74

  Eldred awoke with a start as Mildred pulled him upright in bed and hugged him. It was pitch dark, the middle of the night.

  'What?’ he said groggily.

  'You were screaming your head off,’ Mildred told him. 'Did you have a bad dream?’

  'Oh,’ he said, remembering. 'Lulubelle. She was in a wheelchair, like Keith.’

  'Well, it was only a dream,’ said Mildred. 'Lulubelle's a survivor; her back will get better all right. Go back to sleep now.’

  'No,’ he said, holding on to her. 'Don't leave me.’

  'What's wrong?’

  'Nothing,’ he said. Just don't go yet. Talk to me.’

  'Eldred, it's two o'clock in the morning. Your father's asleep.’

  'Talk to me for a little while,’ he pleaded.

  'We'd wake him up, Eldred. He has to work in the morning. And you've got school.’ She looked at his face and relented. 'Put your dressing-gown on and come downstairs then. Want some hot chocolate?’

  'Yes, please. Wait for me,’ he added urgently, as she reached the door. 'Don't go down without me.’

  'What is this?’ Mildred scolded, in a whisper. 'A big boy like you!’

  Downstairs, she turned on the lamp and the electric fire. 'Sit there,’ she said, 'and keep warm,’ but he followed her into the kitchen.

  She didn't say another word until he was curled up beside her on the sofa and had eaten two biscuits. Then she patted his shoulder and said, 'Something's bothering you, isn't it?’

  'No,’ said Eldred.

  'Is it the kids at school?’

  'No, they're fine.’

  'Have you made any friends?’

  'Yes.’

  'Has anyone said any more about you not having all the proper uniform yet?’

  'No.’

  'And how are you getting on with Mr Dabrowski?’

  'Fine. He's nice.’

  'Oh, that's good. How about your old schoolfriends, Eldred? Do you miss them?’

  'Sometimes. I saw most of them at the park last week, though, so it's not too bad.’

  'Mm.’ Mildred was running out of inspiration. 'Well, you can see a bit more of them at half-term, can't you? And have one of your new friends to play if you want to. Are any of them interested in computers?’

  'Yes, most of them.’

  'You know your father spoke to Mr Dabrowski last week?’

  'Yes, you said.’

  'He's very pleased with your work. He said in all his years as a teacher he's never known a child work like you.’

  'Yes,’ said Eldred. 'Dad told me.’

  There was silence. Mildred cleared her throat. 'You would tell me, wouldn't you,’ she said, 'if something was bothering you?’

  Eldred drank his hot chocolate.

  ‘Anything at all,’ Mildred said. ‘Any time. I'd far rather know.’

  He drained the mug and put it down.

  'Right, then,’ said Mildred, after a few more minutes during which Eldred stared at the fire and said nothing. She stood up and switched the fire off. 'Back to bed now.’

  'No,’ said Eldred. The bright electric bar faded from red to dull brown.

  Mildred sat down again. 'Come on, Eldred,’ she said. 'It's very late, love. If there is something worrying you, tell me, but if not then go back to bed. You won't have another bad dream now.’

  ‘Anything?’ said Eldred.

  'Pardon?’

  'You said anything,’ he reminded her. 'I could say anything, any time.’

  'Of course you can, love. Who else can you tell, if not your mum?’

  'It's not something to tell,’ said Eldred. 'It's more a question.’

  Mildred yawned and put her hand to her mouth. 'Go on then, but you know what I'm like with questions, even when it's not two o'clock in the morning!’

  'Not that kind of question,’ he said.

  She waited, stifling a second yawn. She could feel her eyelids drooping.

  'Who is my father?’ said Eldred.

  'What?’ said 'Mildred. 'You know who your father is, Eldred. What is this?’

  'Who is he?’

  'What do you mean, who is he? Dad. Edgar Jones.’

  'He isn't the one who raped you though, is he?’

  Mildred's mouth dropped open. Her face changed colour.

  'I saw an old newspaper page,’ said Eldred. 'It said you didn't see the man's face. It wasn't Dad, was it?’

  'Oh my God,’ said Mildred. 'Where? Where did you find this, Eldred?’

  'In the library. On microfilm.’

  Mildred put her head in her hands.

  'I'm sorry,’ said Eldred. He caught hold of her hands and held them. 'I didn't mean to upset you.’

  'When did you see it?’ she asked.

  'A few weeks ago.’

  'A few weeks! Why did you keep it to yourself?’

  'Why did you?’

  'I didn't see any reason why you should know, Eldred. It's all in the past.’

  'But was it Dad who raped you?’

  'Of course it wasn't him, Eldred. How could you think such a thing?’

  'Who was it?’

  'I don't know. I don't want to know. Some yobbo. Probably drunk or on drugs or mental. He kept laughing. They didn't catch him.’

  'Is he my father, then?’

  'No,’ she said. 'No.’

  'Did you know you were pregnant with me?’

  'What? When?’

  'Did you know, Mum?’

  'Do you mean, how long afterwards did I find out?’

  'No. I was there already, wasn't I?’

  She hesitated, not looking at him. 'Oh,’ she said, 'yes, I expect so. I don't remember the exact dates now. It was so long ago, Eldred. It needn't concern you.’

  'But I was there, wasn't I?’ he said. 'I remember it happening.’

  'Oh, Eldred, of course you don't!’

  'I do,’ he said, 'only I didn't know what was going on. It was really scary. I remember being born as well.’

  'That's impossible. You've got a vivid imagination.’

  'No. People often remember being born and have memories from being in the womb as well. I've read about it.’

  'You read too much,’ she said sharply. 'If you hadn't gone reading and prying into what didn't concern you, this wouldn't have come out. It had nothing to do with you, nothing at all.’

  'But I was there too,’ he insisted. 'It happened to me as well, inside you.’

  'It didn't!’ she said, exasperated. 'You weren't conceived until that moment!’

  As the words slipped out, she clapped her hands over her mouth, horrified at herself.

  Eldred froze. 'So he isn't my dad,’ he said. 'Edgar Jones.’

  'Don't talk about him, like that, by his name! He's not some stranger, Eldred!’

  'He's not my father, though,’ Eldred said. His voice was toneless.

  'He is,’ she said. 'He is.’

  He turned on her, tears welling up in his eyes. 'You keep contradicting yourself! I don't believe you! The article said you'd been married eleven years and had no children. If you weren't pregnant when it happened, then it must have been that man - unless it was Dad who raped you. Was he there or wasn't he?’

  'Listen,’ said Mildred. 'Listen. Stop crying. Do you want me to tell you what happened?’

  He nodded.

  'You're sure you want to know?’ she said. 'All right, then.’