by Anne Bennett
She looked at Hannah steadily and said, ‘Ernest loved your son as much as he was able to love anyone. Fortunately, Matthew was a compliant child – anxious to please. He loved and admired Ernest and was always trying to gain his approval.’
‘Did he get it?’
‘Not often if I’m honest,’ Marian said. ‘Approval was not something Ernest gave readily. But,’ she added, ‘I don’t want you to feel sorry for your son, Hannah, for I loved him with all my heart and soul and he loved me I know.
‘Soon when I’m gone he will be a rich man,’ Marian said. ‘It won’t be long now and I know that hasn’t come as a surprise to you. I saw the shock register on your face when you came in.
‘Of course, Ernest never meant to die till he was a good age and he was affronted that he who’d controlled so much in his life had no power to defy the doctors and stop the Grim Reaper.’ She sighed. ‘And now it’s my turn.’ She turned to Hannah and said, ‘Matthew doesn’t know how ill I am.’
‘Doesn’t he see it?’
‘I’m skilful with make-up,’ Marian said. ‘I’ve tried to shield him. Maybe I’m wrong. Ernest’s brother said I was being silly about it and that Matthew is a boy no longer. But to me he will always be a boy.
‘However, perhaps this is the right time to tell him everything. I’d hoped to see him safely married before I had to break the news of my impending death to him, but now that cannot happen.’
‘Do you think they will be terribly upset?’ Hannah asked.
‘Well,’ Marian answered. ‘They’re fond of each other certainly, but they’re young.’
‘Ah, but passions are high when you are young,’ Hannah said, remembering her own youth. ‘It’s the very devil that they had to meet at all. What made you come to Birmingham from Leeds?’
‘Oh, that was because Ernest and Maurice couldn’t agree. After Maurice was demobbed, it was dreadful. They were at each other’s throats daily. If I’m honest, Ernest used to goad Maurice. In the end, he told his father either Maurice went or he did. Well, he didn’t want that, but could see they’d never agree, and he’d made plenty of money during the war, so he asked Ernest to come and establish a new factory in Birmingham.
‘Ernest was glad to go and by that time so was I. Matthew was little more than a baby and in one way I was glad to get away from the city of his birth. No one knew about him here. He was just our son. It was how I wanted it.’
‘I do understand that,’ Hannah said.
‘Do you? I don’t know that I’d be so understanding,’ Marian said.
‘But I do understand,’ Hannah said. ‘I’d probably have done the same. And were things easier between your husband and his brother once you moved?’
‘No,’ said Marian with a sigh. ‘I tried at first; I used to invite them down for the weekend. It was always dreadful. Their parents had died within a week of one another not long after we came to live here, so there was just the two of them then. I’d have loved a brother or sister and I thought they should make some effort, if only for the sake of our sons.’
Hannah thought of the family of brothers and sisters she had who she never got even a scribe of a letter from. The only one who’d cared was Frances and she was no more. ‘Sometimes siblings aren’t so great,’ she said. ‘Different characters, different attitudes. They haven’t got to get on.’
‘Well, Ernest and Maurice didn’t,’ Marian said. ‘Like chalk and cheese they were. But when I knew I was dying, I wrote to Maurice and Phyllis, told them how things were and asked them to look out for Matthew. They were lovely and they made my boy welcome while I went into hospital to have an operation to help me live a little longer. That’s how he met your daughter.’
‘I wondered about that,’ Hannah said. ‘Although there was a girl, Hillary, that she used to spend some of the holidays with.’
‘Yes, Hillary, that was a name Matthew mentioned. And Angela did too.’
‘I wish it hadn’t happened.’
‘So do I,’ Marian said. ‘But it has and we must face it.’
‘I know.’
‘Despite the awful news you brought, I’m glad I’ve met you,’ Marian said quietly. ‘I feel privileged.’
‘And I you, Marian,’ Hannah said and she bent and kissed Marian gently on her cheek. ‘Thank you for rearing my son to be the fine, upstanding young man he is. I’m not surprised you are proud of him.’
‘How do you think Angela will take the news?’
‘Badly,’ Hannah said. ‘I’ve steeled myself to the thought that I’ll lose her all over again, but we cannot let this go on.’
‘No, no, indeed not,’ Marian said.
For a while, both women were silent, each thinking their own private thoughts, and then Marian said, ‘I think we should have tea together. Take off your coat and I’ll ring for tea and I’ll tell you about my son and your son, Matthew. I wanted marriage with Angela for I didn’t want him alone when I’m gone, but now he’ll have you. I thought I would resent you, feel jealous of you if ever I met you, but I don’t.’
‘You have no need to feel jealous of me,’ Hannah said gently. ‘You brought my son up. I just gave birth to him.’
‘Thank you for giving him away,’ Marian said. ‘I know now the courage and heartache it took, but he made my life complete. Matthew means everything to me,’ and she reached out to Hannah. ‘Soon he will have only you.’ It was too much; Hannah marvelling at Marian’s courage, felt tears trickling from her eyes again and Marian gripped her arm tight. ‘Don’t cry, my dear. Please don’t cry.’
Mrs Foley, summoned and asked to make tea, was surprised on taking it in to find both of them in tears and the bed littered with photographs of Matthew. She knew they had previously been kept in the albums that Mrs Olaffson took such pleasure in that were kept on a shelf above her dressing table.
What’s more, despite the tears her employer was shedding, she looked more alive than she’d seen her in ages. Somehow happier. And Marian was happier, happy and relieved to have met Hannah. She thought her a fine woman.
‘Tell me honestly now,’ she said. ‘Do you think Matthew will hate me for not telling him sooner he was adopted?’
‘No. No, of course not. He is, as you said, your child and he loves you dearly. That is very clear. That will never change for a person he hardly knows who just happened to give birth to him,’ Hannah said, though it hurt her to say it. ‘Take heart, Marian, Matthew is too generous and open-hearted a person to bear a grudge against you. I fear my daughter won’t feel the same.’
‘I don’t understand, have never understood, why you left your daughter behind,’ Marian said. ‘Matthew told me you fell in love with another man, though he never mentioned names. He thought at first you were dead because Angela never spoke of you.’
Hannah began the story and told Marian of the frightened, ashamed and traumatised young woman who arrived at Gloria’s door and the tea grew cold in the pot and the scones remained uneaten as Marian listened to Hannah’s life unfold. She heard of the sham of a marriage she had had with Arthur Bradley and how Arthur had connived to gain full control over Angela, due to Hannah’s affair with her doctor. ‘He’ll be outraged over this latest snippet of news,’ Hannah said. ‘As I explained, he knew I wasn’t a virgin when I married him, but I told him nothing about a son. He has to know now, though, but I doubt he’d open the door to me.’
‘Then who will tell him and Angela?’
‘Vic suggested our parish priest, Father Fitzgerald. He does know the family and has always taken a keen interest in us. He doesn’t know about my past of course, there has never been any reason for him to know until now. When I leave here, I’ll go straight round and see him and tell him everything.’
‘Will he be shocked?’
Hannah shrugged. ‘Who knows? But shocked or not, he’ll see he’ll have to do something about it. I just hope he can break it to them as gently as he can.’
‘I don’t know that priests are very good at that sort
of thing,’ Marian said. ‘To be honest, I had little time for them until that lovely priest came to see me in that hell hole I was in at that time. I’m sure he contacted the nuns and told them how desperate I was for a baby. No one else would bother. Ernest once admitted he agreed to have Matthew only to please me. Apparently, the doctor had told him I was close to going over the edge into madness. He threw that knowledge at me one day when he was annoyed at something Matthew had done. I had wondered at his change of heart, for I’d suggested adoption before and he’d dismissed it out of hand.’
‘Father Fitzgerald is different,’ Hannah said, ‘although he doesn’t approve of me for divorce is not recognised in the Church and the children are therefore illegitimate. But when there was a bit of trouble about getting the Abbey school to take Adam because of it, he stepped in. He’s a good man and a kind one, but he has to follow the rules, yet even in his disapproval, he will help.’
‘Wouldn’t it be better for you to break it to Angela?’ Marian asked tentatively.
‘Maybe, but Arthur would never let me see her,’ Hannah said. ‘Besides, I’d be afraid. He’s been violent towards me in the past.’
‘Ah, then it’s better to get someone else to convey the news,’ Marian agreed.
‘And thinking of that, I must be off,’ Hannah said, getting to her feet. She’d seen tiredness etched on Marian’s face and thought she’d stayed long enough and she bent and kissed her goodbye.
Marian watched the door close behind Hannah and lay back on the pillows with a sigh. She hadn’t felt so exhausted in a long time, but despite the fatigue, she wouldn’t have missed the encounter for all the tea in China.
Later, when Mrs Foley come in to clear away the tea things, she found Marian in a deep sleep, such as she’d not enjoyed for many weeks now. ‘And without her pill too,’ Mrs Foley remarked to herself as she carried the tea things from the room. ‘So that young woman did some good after all. I did wonder when I saw the mistress in tears, but whatever she came for and whatever she said worked.’
Father Fitzgerald listened to Hannah’s tale without any sign of shock, though he felt his insides tighten. Such a thing that happened to Hannah had happened to many in the turmoil of war. What a tragedy the man hadn’t been able to marry her. And what a double tragedy that her daughter should meet her own half-brother and become engaged to him – of all the coincidences in the world!
However, he knew Arthur and the high moral stance he put on everything, the standards he had that few others aspired to. The priest knew he had no patience with people not as morally stalwart as himself. Sometimes he’d become irritated with his lack of charity for the unfortunates in society.
He also found him hypocritical in divorcing Hannah and he’d spoken about it at the time. He had though felt sorry for the way the man had been left, and had popped round to see him on many occasions after Hannah’s defection, so Arthur wasn’t that surprised to see him at the door that evening. ‘Hello, Father. Come along in.’
Father Fitzgerald stepped over the threshold with a heavy heart for he knew there was no way he could soften the blow for Arthur or Angela.
And he was right, Arthur was outraged, livid, and he ranted and raved. Angela shared her father’s views and said she was disgusted, both by Hannah having a baby and then giving it away.
She had no knowledge of how hard life had been then and how easy it was to become pregnant without the pill that she and Hillary and many of their friends had used so successfully. But when the priest identified the child as the man she was promised to marry, she’d become hysterical.
The priest begged Angela to be calm with no effect and eventually Arthur slapped her face, shocking her into silence, and then he grabbed her arms tight and shook her. His face was puce and spittle formed on his lips as he spat out, ‘You see what she is to you, your mother? A dirty filthy trollop, that’s what. That’s the woman you’ve been sneaking behind my back to see. Some mother! She gave away her son and had no time for you either when you were born. Pauline brought you up. But now she’s scuppered your wedding plans right enough,’ he went on. ‘You can hardly marry your own brother.’
Father Fitzgerald tried to free Arthur’s grasp on Angela, because he was shaking her like a rag doll. ‘Leave go, man! For God’s sake, Arthur!’ Arthur appeared not to hear the priest and Angela, in shock, was making no effort to protect herself. When Arthur flung her away from him as if in disgust, she sank to the floor in a dead faint and it was the priest who went to her aid.
Father Fitzgerald waited until the doctor had been summoned before he left the house and although he could feel sorry for all of them in this business, the one he felt for most was Hannah and he could imagine how she was suffering and his heart went out to her.
All evening, Hannah waited. She’d put the children to bed early and Vic, knowing she needed to be alone but not wishing to leave her altogether, stayed in the surgery, dealing with paperwork. She was grateful to him. He seemed to know instinctively what she needed. However, when the knock finally came to the door at about half-past nine, Hannah’s legs turned to jelly when she tried to stand. It was Vic, hearing the bell ring the second time, who crossed the hall and opened the door to Matthew Olaffson.
The young man faced Hannah across the living room and asked bluntly, ‘Is all of this true?’
She nodded. ‘It’s true and I’m sorry. I’m not sorry I’m your mother, but I’m sorry for Marian who adopted you and loves you as if she’d given birth to you and I’m sorry that you had to find out this way and I’m sorry for you and Angela.’
Matthew said nothing. He was thinking of the most devastating news he’d been given that day and that was that the only mother he had ever known had cancer and hadn’t long to live.
He could barely take it in. They had talked and talked about it and both had cried and hugged each other. Matthew, at first, suggested getting a second opinion, private consultants, even trying for treatment abroad, until Marian convinced him all avenues had been tried, and the diagnosis was one and the same. ‘That’s why I pushed for the marriage with Angela,’ she said. ‘So that you wouldn’t be alone. But now that can never be.’
‘Why?’ Even amidst his distress, Matthew was puzzled.
Marian didn’t answer his question. Instead she said, ‘There is someone else who has a claim on you now. Though not a claim as such, she’s actually said she’s relinquished any claim, but she cares about you. And that, Matthew, is Angela’s mother, Hannah.’
‘Angela’s mother? What has she to do with all this? She has no claim on me.’
‘Listen,’ Marian said. ‘What I am going to tell you is something I should have told you years ago.’
‘What?’
‘Matthew, I was many years waiting for a child,’ Marian said. ‘I’ve told you this often and told you that’s why you were precious to me. And all that is true, Matthew, but the point is I never gave birth to you, Hannah is your birth mother. She was without support in the world and had to give you up for adoption.’
‘Hannah is my birth mother?’ Matthew repeated and Marian just nodded and then slowly Matthew said, ‘Then Angela is …’
‘Your half-sister,’ Marian said. ‘That is why you cannot marry her,’ and then Marian grasped one of her son’s hands and looking into his face said, ‘Say you don’t hate me for deceiving you?’
‘How could I hate you?’ Matthew asked, squeezing Marian’s hand. ‘You’re still my mother, the only one I know and the only one I love, the one I will always love.’
But Marian knew the news had shaken Matthew, she’d seen it in his eyes and when later he said, ‘I must go round to Angela’s mother, talk to her,’ Marian wasn’t surprised. It was what she had expected he’d do. ‘I think you’re right,’ she said.
He’d whipped himself into a state by the time he arrived at Grange Road. Shock had taken hold and he shook all over as he stood on the doorstep. Funny that he’d never doubted a word his mother had said. How could H
annah be so convinced he was her son? He thought once you gave a child up for adoption that was it, you never were able to know what happened to them. Well, he’d find out.
And he did. ‘How are you so sure I am your son?’ he asked as he sat on the settee she’d indicated and accepted a glass of whisky and was glad of it for waves of emotion still ran through him.
‘Because you are the image of your father,’ Hannah said. And then, because she’d been expecting Matthew, she showed him the few precious photographs of Mike that she had.
For Matthew, it was like looking at a picture of himself, he was so like the dashing young soldier, his cap set jauntily on his fair hair. There were some of him taken with Hannah, his arms possessively around her, and Matthew thought with a start that they could be pictures of himself and Angela.
But then he told himself stranger incidences had happened before surely. ‘You can’t be absolutely certain,’ he said.
‘You have the same birthday and you were born in Leeds where I was at the time in a home for unmarried mothers run by nuns,’ Hannah said. ‘That alone would almost prove the point, but the real proof was the birthmark.’
Immediately, Matthew clapped his right hand over his left arm and Hannah had the desire to take his hand away and trace the mark with her fingers. But she couldn’t do that. Instead she said softly and sadly, ‘I held you after your birth, just once, and because I knew I’d never be able to do it again, I examined every bit of you so that the picture would stay with me. You had the birthmark then.’ Then more softly, she asked, ‘Did you love Angela so very much?’
Matthew realised that with all he’d been told and had to cope with, what it meant to him and Angela mattered very, very little. In fact, if he was honest, he felt relief. He’d felt he was being hustled into something he wasn’t ready for. ‘No,’ he found himself saying. ‘No, it isn’t that. It’s just I need to be sure.’
‘I’m sure, Matthew,’ Hannah said.
‘Can you … would you mind telling me about my father?’ Matthew said. ‘I never really measured up for my adoptive father. I think I understand a little more now why he was the way he was.’