Not My Brother's Keeper

by Colette McCormick

  ‘He’s not coming back, Janet,’ Dad said.

  Mum didn’t disagree with him, at least not before I quietly climbed the stairs and went into the bathroom.

  I made sure I was at the door to meet Michelle and I could tell that she was terrified at the thought of being here again. I put my arm around her shoulder and moved her gently through the door and into the house. She had done it unaided dozens of times before but she seemed to be finding it hard to get her feet moving that day. I didn’t say anything to her, because I was fairly certain that my mum would have her ear to the door, but I tried to reassure her with a smile.

  That first meeting between her and my mother, now that she was with me and not Robert, was a bit testy to say the least but Dad was really supportive. I knew that I had an ally in him.

  I don’t know if it was that conversation with my mother that set me thinking, but something did.

  In my heart, I knew what I wanted my next step to be, but in my head, I couldn’t help wondering why. My heart said that it was because I loved her but my head said that I barely knew her. My heart told me that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her but my head reminded me that if Robert hadn’t buggered off, Michelle and I would never even have had a date. A worm had buried itself into my mind and insisted on asking if I was still trying to be the brother that I had once idolised. Was I trying to be him by living the life that could have been his?

  It kept me awake more than a night or two I can tell you, but in the end, I couldn’t deny the way that I felt. I loved Michelle, pure and simple. I accepted that we hadn’t got together in a conventional manner, but my feelings were real. I could spend the rest of my life questioning my motives or I could just go with my gut...

  It was sometime in June, a warm summer’s day, and we’d been out somewhere, I don’t remember where. We were walking to the pub that used to be at the bottom of Hague Street; they stocked these nuts that Michelle really loved and she was craving them that night. That pub was the only place that we’d ever found them so we went there a lot. Anyway, we were walking there and I must have appeared as distracted as I was feeling, because Michelle asked me if I was all right.

  ‘OK, I said to myself as I took a deep breath and prepared to jump in at the deep end.

  ‘Michelle?’ I stopped walking as I said her name and she walked on a step or two before she realised. When she turned around, she had a puzzled look on her face.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked.

  ‘Will you marry me?’ My voice was barely a whisper as I asked.

  She was clearly surprised by my question and just stared at me. She didn’t say anything and it was as if her eyes were asking me if she had heard me right. My stomach flipped and I thought that I had blown everything. I thought that I’d been kidding myself that we had a future.

  ‘Why?’ she asked. ‘Why would you ask that?’

  To tell you the truth, that wasn’t the response I’d been hoping for, but I tried to laugh it off and said something like, ‘Why do you think?’

  She turned her head to the side and pouted. ‘You shouldn’t tease me,’ she said,

  ‘Who’s teasing?’ I asked. ‘I’ve never been more serious.’

  She turned back towards me and I watched as she scraped her lower teeth over her upper lip. Then she lifted her hands up and covered her face. I didn’t know what to do. I’d thought that she’d... well, I suppose I’d hoped that she would feel the same way I did and say yes. I didn’t know what was going on. I couldn’t work out what she was feeling or thinking. She was breathing deeply and I saw her chest moving up and down. She seemed in distress and I was just about to reach out to her when she dropped her hands and I saw her face. Her eyes were wide.

  ‘How can we?’ she asked. ‘How can we?’

  She said it louder the second time.

  She hadn’t actually said no so I thought that I might be in with a chance as long as I could answer all of her questions. But first, I had one of my own. ‘Why can’t we?’ I asked.

  ‘Where would we live?’ she asked, which struck me as on odd thing to say, but Michelle is nothing if not practical.

  ‘We’ll find somewhere,’ I said. Finding somewhere to live seemed the least of our concerns.

  There was a wall running along the gardens of the houses we were passing and she leaned against it. I did too. She looked at the ground between her feet and I watched her.

  ‘How will we live?’ she asked. ‘I’m going to have to give up work soon.’

  ‘I’ve got a job,’ I told her.

  ‘You have a job?’ She sounded surprised and squinted her eyes to get a closer look at my face. ‘A job as well as college?’

  ‘Instead of college,’ I said. She was the first person I’d told, and though I’d wondered if I’d done the right thing taking it, now I knew that I had.

  She started to speak but she didn’t get any further than, ‘But...’

  ‘But nothing,’ I said. ‘It’s done. I start as a draughtsman at Lodge’s in a fortnight.’

  She let the words sink in.

  ‘Why, Tom?’ she said the words quietly. ‘Why do you want to marry me? Why would you want to marry me?’

  ‘Why do you think?’. I started to wish that she’d just turn me down and put me out of my misery.

  ‘But I’m pregnant,’ she said.

  I pushed myself away from the wall and took a couple of steps away so that I could gather my thoughts before turning around. ‘Why does it always come back to that?’ I asked. I said it louder than I meant to and Michelle seemed to flinch. I felt bad about that because it hadn’t been my intention to sound harsh. I calmed myself down and said, ‘It’s a baby Michelle, not a spare head.’

  She laughed at that, and then she smiled. She glanced away for a few seconds, then said, ‘I wish...’ but she left the sentence hanging.

  ‘What?’ I pushed her. ‘What do you wish? Tell me what you’re thinking, Michelle.’

  I could see that she had started to shake and I wanted to put my arm around her but given that I had just asked her to marry me and she hadn’t instantly said yes it felt awkward to say the least so I just stood and waited for her to tell me what she wished.

  ‘I wish,’ she said eventually, ‘that things were different.’ She spoke slowly and carefully. She opened her mouth to say something else but nothing came out. A couple of deep breaths later the words were there. ‘I wish,’ she paused and looked at me, ‘that things could be the way you say they can.’

  ‘They can,’ I said, but she shook her head. ‘They can,Michelle.’ I felt like I was challenging her but I didn’t care. I had to make her see things the way I did. ‘Why can’t they

  be?’

  ‘Because of the baby,’ she whispered.

  I remember putting my hands on my head in a gesture of exasperation. ‘Can we forget about the baby for a minute,’ I said.

  ‘How can I?’ Now it was she who sounded exasperated. ‘How can I forget about it?’ she gestured towards the bump on her stomach. She stifled a sob and I couldn’t help but put my arm around her that time and bugger the awkwardness. Her face was buried in my shoulder but I could still hear her say, ‘I don’t want to be pregnant.’

  ‘Let me look after you,’ I whispered in her ear. ‘Let me look after both of you.’

  After about a minute or so she lifted her head and looked at me and said through a sniff, ‘Ask me again.’

  So I did. This time, she smiled and nodded her head as she said yes.

  As we hugged, I saw a woman looking at us from the window of the house we were standing in front of. I thought she was about to tell us to get off her wall so I held my hand up to apologise, but she didn’t say anything. She just looked and shook her head and disappeared. Either way I thought it best not to push our luck and I encouraged Michelle to move.

  We made it to the pub eventually and that was where we made plans for our future as Michelle sated her craving for honey roast almonds.


  ‘What do you think they’ll say?’ she asked as we walked home. I didn’t have to ask who ‘they’ were – I’d spent more than a minute or two thinking about it already.

  ‘I really don’t know,’ I said. ‘I doubt they’ll think it’s the best idea that either of us have ever had, but what does that matter?’ I stopped walking and because she had her arm linked through mine she stopped too. It was quite funny at the time, because she had such a surprised look on her face as she realised her legs had moved but her upper body hadn’t. I’ve not thought about that night in years but I can still remember that look on her face.

  Her eyes were like saucers as she asked, ‘What’s wrong?’

  There was nothing wrong – quite the opposite – it was just that even though it had been hours since I’d actually popped the question, and we’d spent those hours talking about it, the reality of what had happened only just hit me.

  She had said yes. From now on the woman with those wide eyes and the surprised look on her face was going to be my priority and, as such, I would take care of her. I planned to spend the rest of my life looking after her; she would never have to face anything alone again.

  That included her parents. We told them the following evening.

  I don’t suppose they’d given it much thought when Michelle got ready to go out, or even when I knocked on the door, but when Michelle took me into the living room where her parents were watching the television, I could see the colour drain from her mother’s face.

  ‘Tom?’ she made my name sound like a question.

  I nodded a welcome to her and then one to her husband. Michelle grabbed my hand as she sat on the sofa, forcing me to sit down with her. I couldn’t help but feel Michelle tense up beside me and when I glanced at her I could see that she was visibly shaking.

  She opened her mouth but nothing came out, and when she looked at me I could see the fear return to her eyes. Then, after a couple of seconds, something changed and the fear turned to defiance. She took a deep breath, puffed out her cheeks and turned to her mother.

  ‘Tom has asked me to marry him,’ she said, ‘and I’ve said yes.’

  I could sense her dad moving in his chair and when I turned I saw that he had moved to the edge of his seat. ‘What do you mean he’s asked you to marry him?’ he asked.

  I thought it was pretty self-explanatory but I didn’t think it was the time for sarcasm. Now, I can’t remember who asked which question because they were both going at it. I felt like I was watching a tennis match because my head was going from side to side that much, and I can’t remember the order they came in but, basically, the questions all came down to why?

  I mean, they asked the practical things like where we would live and what would we live on, but basically it was all about the why?

  After being interrogated for what felt like hours Michelle’s mum went to make a cup of tea because, as we all know, that makes everything better – at least in a mother’s world. Her dad fixed me in a steely stare.

  ‘You know you don’t have to do this don’t you, son,’ he said.

  Well that’s not patronising is it was another thought that I kept to myself, though I could see where he was coming from.

  ‘I know,’ I said simply.

  I could see how uncomfortable he felt as he started to say, ‘Just because it was your brother... ‘

  I had to stop him before he went any further. ‘I am not my brother’s keeper, Mr Jenkins,’ I said. ‘I am not responsible for what he did and, while I hate what he did and I would kick his teeth in if he walked into this room right now, I am not doing this to make up for his actions. Nothing can make up for the pain that he caused Michelle,’ – his face seemed to soften a bit at that – ‘ but something good came out of it.’ I smiled at Michelle and put my arm around her shoulders. ‘I got to know just how wonderful this young lady is and I want to spend the rest of my life with her.’ God, the kids would retch if they heard me tell this story, but it was the truth and I wasn’t afraid to say it.

  I hadn’t realised that her mum had come into the room in time to hear my speech. She didn’t say anything but she did smile at me when she handed me my cup of tea. It was a breakthrough.

  I’m not sure that they understood our motives for getting married, but by the time I left they had accepted that it was going to happen. Michelle stood on the doorstep with me as I prepared to leave.

  ‘One down and one to go,’ I said and she asked when we were going to tell my parents. We decided that the weekend would do

  I opened the door to Michelle the following Saturday afternoon. Mum had scowled when I’d said that she was coming round, so you can imagine her face when I brought Michelle into the living room where she was sitting with my dad. I think she’d assumed we would be going out.

  Dad looked up from the newspaper he was reading and said, ‘Hello, love.’ He folded the paper and put it on the arm of his chair.

  ‘Hello, Mr Ellis,’ she said in a shaky voice that told everyone that she was nervous about something.

  Mum had been reading too – a book I think – which she put down as well. She aimed a sour look at Michelle as she sat next to me on the sofa.

  ‘You all right, Mum?’ I asked.

  She transferred the look to me as she said. ‘Fine thank you.’

  ‘How are you keeping, love?’ Dad asked. Now it was Dad’s turn to get the look from Mum, but he didn’t seem to notice and, if he had seen it, he certainly didn’t care.

  Michelle took a deep breath, ‘I’m fine thank you, Mr Ellis,’ she said. ‘How are you?’

  I’m willing to bet my life that Dad said ‘Can’t grumble,’ because that was his standard answer whenever anyone asked him how he was.

  There were no pleasantries coming from my mother so I took the bull by the horns, as it were.

  ‘I’ve asked Michelle to marry me,’ I said. I was speaking directly to my mother and she opened her mouth to say something but I got there first with, ‘and she has said yes.’

  Mum closed her mouth. She looked at Dad and so did I. He had one elbow on the arm of the chair and the other one on his knee. As he looked at us I swear I could see his support beaming towards us. It’s like I’ve said before, I knew that we had an ally in him.

  ‘Congratulations,’ he said with a smile. ‘I’m very happy for you.’

  I let that sink in, enjoying the moment before I turned to my mum and waited for her to say something negative.

  ‘You’ve only been going out for five minutes,’ was all she had.

  ‘Long enough,’ I replied.

  ‘But you’re so young,’ was her next offering.

  ‘We’re old enough,’ I said. To be fair to her we were very young at twenty but, as far as I was aware, love wasn’t just for the over twenty-fives or thirties or whatever age Mum deemed old enough.

  ‘What do your mum and dad think about this, Michelle?’ Mum asked.

  ‘They’re pleased for us,’ she looked straight at my mother as she answered her.

  The three of us were shocked when Mum said with a sneer, ‘I’ll bet they are.’

  Dad made a noise like he was going to say something, but he didn’t get the chance because I asked first, ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  I think even Mum was embarrassed by what she had said because she backed down and muttered, ‘nothing.’

  ‘We hope you’ll be very happy,’ Dad said after a moment or two of silence while he glared at his wife. Then there were a few more moments of silence before he made a point of saying, ‘Don’t we, Janet?’

  She agreed that she did and for the rest of the time that we were there she made the right noises and said the right things but I knew it was for Michelle’s sake. I was certain that she would have more to say to me when we were alone, and I wasn’t wrong.

  ‘Are you mad?’ she asked when I got back from taking Michelle home.

  ‘No,’ I said flippantly. I know I shouldn’t have taken such a dismissive attitude, b
ut it was a ridiculous question.

  She followed me into the kitchen and I could feel her eyes boring holes into my back as I filled the kettle. I switched it on and dropped a tea bag into the nearest mug. I put my hands on the worktop and leaned my weight on them. I knew that if I waited long enough she’d say what was on her mind.

  I had to wait for a very long minute before she asked,

  ‘Why?’

  I didn’t bother asking ‘why what?’ I just turned around slowly and said, ‘Because I love her.’

  ‘Have you got any idea how hard it will be?’ she asked.

  ‘I expect it’s hard for any young couple getting married,’ I said.

  ‘It is,’ she acknowledged, ‘but it will be twice as hard for you.’

  ‘Why will it?’ I poured the water from the kettle into a mug as I spoke. I lifted the mug of steaming tea to my mouth and took a sip. It was too hot and I blew gently over the top of it. Mum was staring at me, so I asked her the question again. I know that I was goading her to a certain extent but I just wanted to get it over and done with.

  ‘It’ll be twice as hard, Thomas,’ she explained, ‘because she’s having a baby.’

  ‘I know she is,’ I said.

  ‘And it’s not your baby,’ she said. Did she really think I didn’t know that?

  ‘No, it’s not,’ I said defiantly, ‘it’s your other son’s.’

  ‘Rober—’ She started to say his name but couldn’t get it out. She almost collapsed into the chair she’d been sitting on that day I’d found her looking at the note Robert had left. She put her elbows on the table and buried her head in her hands. ‘Where is he?’ she said.

  I didn’t know the answer and I didn’t bother to guess.

  Over the next few days Mum gradually seemed to come around to the idea. She’d probably realised that if she didn’t, she would lose two sons.A couple of weeks later, Michelle was lying on the sofa at her parents’ house and resting her head on my knee. I was stroking her hair and I was happy. Her parents had gone to an old friend’s birthday party or something and Craig was on holiday so we had the house to ourselves.