Not My Brother's Keeper

by Colette McCormick

  ‘Thanks for coming,’ he said, and immediately took a sip of beer. I didn’t answer him. If he’d looked at me he would have seen me nod but his eyes were down as he drank. If I hadn’t known him better, I’d have said he looked embarrassed.

  A period of silence followed and, I’m not going to deny it, it was awkward. Eventually I had to ask the question that had kept me awake for the previous two nights. ‘What do you want, Robert?’ I asked.

  ‘Who says I want anything?’ he asked, though he failed to carry off the characteristic cockiness I think he was trying to achieve. He turned his attention to Michelle and I thought I saw the look in his eyes soften. ‘You look good, Chelle,’ he said and immediately realised he shouldn’t have called her that and apologised.

  ‘I am good,’ she said as she made a point of turning her head and smiling at me.

  We spent the next ten minutes dancing around the details. He asked me about my job and I asked him about his, though I couldn’t have cared less about what it was like to own a pub. He said he was pleased that Michelle had returned to nursing. It was all just meaningless small talk to fill the silence.

  ‘How long have you been married?’ Robert glanced at each of us in turn like he wasn’t asking either of us in particular.

  I answered for us. ‘Nearly seventeen years.’

  He did that thing where you nod your head and screw up your lips which told me that I had just confirmed something he had assumed. I didn’t want him to dwell on it so I asked, ‘What about you?’ Are you married?’

  ‘No,’ he said. There was a smile – or was it a smirk? – on his face when he told us, ‘Angie and me never got around to it.’

  ‘How long have you been together?’ Michelle asked. I doubt she was really interested; I got the feeling that it was just something to say.

  ‘A long time,’ he laughed, ‘fifteen years or so.’ He took a sip of his beer before he said, ‘You’d like her,’ directly to Michelle. I think he realised that I didn’t care about his love life.

  Another awkward silence was followed by what we knew would come.

  ‘So,’ Robert said, trying to sound casual, ‘you have three boys.’

  ‘Yes, we do,’ Michelle said defiantly.

  Silence. I couldn’t stand it. ‘Look Robert,’ I said, ‘just ask what you want to know.’

  He smiled, genuinely smiled, at me. ‘You haven’t changed, Tom,’ he said. ‘Straight to the point as usual.’

  I shrugged my shoulders. It was true; I’m not a fan of pussy-footing around.

  ‘All right,’ he said. He took a couple of deep breaths before he asked, ‘Is Simon mine?’

  Before I could get a word out Michelle beat me to it.

  ‘No, he’s not.’

  I looked at Robert’s face and I saw that, just like Michelle’s had been, the muscles around his mouth were tense, so much so that I could actually see him twitching. He turned his attention to me and I suspect that my facial muscles were betraying me, too. I certainly felt strained enough.

  ‘You’re lying,’ he said. He sat upright and pushed back on the chair. ‘You’re lying,’ he repeated as he shook his head and switched his eyes between us and his near empty pint of beer.

  ‘Why would I lie, Robert?’ Michelle asked. There was something worryingly calm about the tone of her voice. ‘You left me with nothing but a note and some bad memories.’

  His eyes stopped flicking to the beer and rested on my wife. ‘What about the baby you were expecting?’

  ‘What baby?’ she spat. ‘The one you wanted nothing to do with?’

  He started to say, ‘Come on, Chelle,’ but she cut him off before he was even half way though the words.

  ‘Don’t “come on, Chelle” me,’ she hissed through gritted teeth. I had never seen her so angry before, and she was more than a match for my brother. She had over sixteen years of pent up anger to get rid of.

  Although he spoke the truth, Robert really shouldn’t have gone on to say, ‘You were pregnant when I left.’

  ‘Yeah, well, you weren’t bothered about that then so why are you bothered about it now?’

  Michelle lifted her glass to her mouth and emptied about half of it down her throat. God love her, she’s not much of a drinker at the best of times, so I feared for what she might say once the alcohol took effect. Not that I made any attempt to stop her. Why should I? She was entitled to this moment. I think wanting to have that conversation was why she had insisted on coming with me that afternoon.

  ‘All I want to know is,’ Robert said slowly, ‘am I Simon’s father?’

  ‘And I have told you,’ Michelle said just as slowly and emphasised every word, ‘no, you are not.’ She put her trembling hand in mine. I squeezed the tips of her fingers and hoped that it told her that I was one hundred per cent behind her. ‘You were the sperm donor if that’s what you want to know,’ she tapped the table with the index finger of her spare hand, ‘but you are not Simon’s father.’

  ‘Semantics,’ he said as he glared at her. He turned away and said, ‘I’m getting another drink. Does anyone else want one?’

  I shook my head and said I was driving.

  ‘Very responsible of you, Tom,’ he said as he stood up and I couldn’t help feeling he was sneering at me. I felt my legs starting to push me up but Michelle must have felt it too because she exerted extra pressure on my hand.

  ‘Don’t bite,’ she whispered.

  Michelle said she would have another white wine but just a small one this time and, while Robert waited his turn at the bar, we put our heads together and whispered.

  ‘Are you all right?’ I asked.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, and for a split second I was scared because I didn’t know what she was apologising for. If I’m being truthful, it did cross my mind that she was going to tell me something that I didn’t want to hear. My fears were allayed when she said, ‘I didn’t mean to lose my temper.’

  I laughed at her. ‘Don’t be daft,’ I said. ‘You’re entitled to be angry.’

  ‘I know, but I didn’t want to let him get under my skin.’ She managed to get the words out just before Robert put a glass down in front of her.

  ‘Cheers,’ he held his glass up and saluted us. ‘So,’ he said after a large gulp of his new pint, ‘fair play to you, Tom.’ There was more than a hint of mockery in his voice, ‘It’s not every bloke who would take on another man’s baby.’ He let that hang a second or two before adding, ‘especially when that other man is your brother.’

  I felt Michelle’s nails sticking into my hand which was enough to curtail my desire to smack him in the face.

  ‘I don’t know what I ever saw in you,’ Michelle told him. ‘You make me sick.’

  That seemed to take the wind out of his sails because Robert always thought he was God’s gift and my guess was that no one had ever said anything like that to him before. But it bothered me that he seemed to care what she thought about him.

  ‘Does he know?’ Robert asked, once he’d recovered himself.

  Michelle and I looked at one other, an involuntary action that told him everything he needed to know. By the time we looked back at him, he was shaking his head.

  ‘He doesn’t, does he?’ He gave a little laugh and looked at each of us in turn. ‘I think I’d like to meet him,’ he said and, even though I’d half expected the suggestion to be made, I wasn’t ready for it. I felt sick.. ‘I’d like to meet all of your sons,’ he said, though that did nothing to make the feeling go away. I knew that it was Simon he wanted to see.

  I suppose we could have said no, told him he couldn’t, but the genie was out of the bottle and I doubted that the boys’ mythical Uncle Robert would disappear again just because we wanted him to.

  ‘OK,’ I said reluctantly, ‘they’ve heard about you and I’m sure they’d like to put a face to the name.’

  He sounded surprised, ‘You told them about me?’

  ‘Mum talks about you,’ I told him.


  We agreed that he could meet our sons but we didn’t set a time or a date. We left shortly after and drove home in silence. My eyes were on the road ahead but every now and then I would flick my eyes to the left and, each time I did, I saw that Michelle was staring straight ahead. Her hands were on her lap but they were restless, moving over each other, pulling at each other and I thought that they probably reflecting what was going on in her head.

  I almost spoke, before realising that I had no idea what to say. I didn’t want to ask her any questions that I didn’t want to know the answers to.

  Simon was staying at his mate’s house that night and Michelle’s parents had suggested that they keep the other two at their house overnight. Her mum had said something about giving us some space after the meeting with Robert and I for one was pleased that we wouldn’t have to face the kids right away. Having said that, the house was unnaturally quiet when we went in, which was a bit unsettling.

  We were barely through the door when Michelle announced that she was going for a bath and disappeared up the stairs without a backward glance. I watched her until she was out of sight before I went into the living room and flopped onto the sofa. As I lay there I wondered what Michelle was thinking about as she lay in the bath.

  She hadn’t seen Robert in almost seventeen years and, if I’m honest, I’d been worried that something might have rekindled. She hadn’t said or done anything to make me think that, but the niggle was still there. Even after all these years, there were still times when I asked myself what I had done to deserve her. God, I hated my insecurities.

  I thought about Robert. They’d been close once – very close. There had been an attraction between them so it would be understandable if it was still there. Feelings had lain dormant for years but now that they’d seen each other again maybe those feelings... I couldn’t even bring myself to finish the thought.

  It occurred to me that right at that moment perhaps Michelle might be trying to work out how she was going to tell me that she’d realised she still loved Robert. My heart was beating like the clappers and I could feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead. She’d told him that she despised him, she’d said that he wasn’t Simon’s father. She’d said that, but... what did it matter what she’d said? It was what she was thinking and what she was feeling that worried me.

  I covered my eyes with my arm and let all manner of things go through my head: every fear, every thought, every doubt that I’d had in the last seventeen years. I didn’t know what I would do if my nightmare came true.

  It was well over an hour before I heard the bath draining. Michelle came downstairs a few minutes later wrapped in a towelling dressing gown with her hair combed tight to her head.

  She gave my feet a tap and I lifted them up so she could sit down next to me. She looked like she’d been crying. She pulled my feet onto her knees and started plucking at my socks.

  ‘We need to talk,’ she said, without taking her eyes off my feet.

  My stomach flipped as I waited for her to start – it felt like a long time before she eventually spoke. She chose her words carefully.

  ‘What does this mean for us?’ she asked. She turned her head to me and I could see that there were tears sitting in the edge of her eyes. I lifted my feet off her knee and sat up. I moved close to her and as our legs touched I felt her knees knocking against mine. She was clearly just as petrified as I was. I put a hand on her knee and held it still.

  ‘What does it mean for us?’ she said again, though the second time it was barely more than a whisper.

  ‘It doesn’t mean anything to me,’ I spoke with more confidence than I felt, ‘not as far as we’re concerned anyway. It means nothing to us as a couple, if that’s what you mean.’

  ‘But he’s back,’ she said.

  ‘More’s the pity,’ I lifted her hand to my lips and kissed her palm. ‘But we always knew it could happen.’

  She wiped her eyes with the heel of her spare hand, leaving a red mark across her cheek.

  Now that it appeared she wasn’t going to tell me her old feelings for Robert had returned, my confidence grew by the second. ‘His coming back doesn’t change anything between us,’ I said. ‘You are still my wife, the mother of my children, and I love you very much.’

  She looked deep into my eyes and said, ‘ I love you too, Tom. More than I think you realise.’

  That was all I needed to know. Robert coming back would obviously make a difference to our lives but it would not change us. I know I was naïve, but as long as I had Michelle I knew that I could face anything that the world – and that included Robert – threw at me.

  ROBERT

  I hadn’t expected Michelle to be there, so of course I was surprised when she walked in. I’d assumed it would just be me and Tom. At least it saved me the bother of asking him if his wife was the girl I had left behind all those years ago. There she was, looking almost the same as she had the last time I’d seen her: marriage and motherhood clearly suited her.

  I couldn’t help noticing that they were holding hands and as soon as I saw that I felt a knot form in my stomach. I’d expected that she would have moved on, I just hadn’t expected her to move on with my brother.

  He ordered drinks but I said I’d buy them. It seemed like the right thing to do seeing as I was the one who had made the invitation. Michelle had wine, which surprised me because she’d been strictly a lager and lime girl when I knew her. I guess she had changed.

  The conversation was stilted to say the least and I put my foot right in it when I called her Chelle. I hadn’t meant to, it just popped out. I did it without thinking because it’s what I’d always called her. I apologised but it was too late and, if such a thing were possible, I’d made a bad situation even worse.

  I asked how long they’d been married and when Tom said almost seventeen years it was all the confirmation I needed. However, the truth just presented me with another problem and I wasn’t sure how to proceed. I made a comment about them having three boys and Tom got straight to the point and asked me what I wanted to know. I’d spent much of the week imagining the moment that I asked ‘the question’, wondering how I would react when I found out the truth. But Tom had given me the opportunity, so I took it and asked straight out if Simon was my son. I hadn’t anticipated the answer I got. Michelle looked me in the eye and told me I wasn’t.

  I called her a liar. Well, I didn’t use that word – I said she was lying, which amounts to the same thing. She asked me why she would lie. I asked her what had happened to the baby that she was having when I left, I got nowhere with that, so I asked her outright again if I was Simon’s father. She said no again and, to be fair, when she explained it, I got what she meant. A father provides for their child – you know, feeds them, clothes them, things like that. She admitted that I was his ‘sperm donor’, but there was no way I was his father. I hated that, hated the way it sounded. Like it or not, I knew she was right. I hadn’t shown any interest in the baby; I’d buggered off to avoid having anything to do with it, so what right did I have to ask if he was mine?

  I needed another drink, and I asked if anyone else wanted one. When Tom said that he didn’t because he was driving I made a snide comment about him being responsible. Terrible, I know. And then, as if that wasn’t bad enough, I said something about him taking on another man’s baby. But I didn’t even stop there, and I added something about that other man being his brother. I wasn’t proud of myself for that but once the words were out it was too late, it had been said.

  Michelle said that she didn’t know what she had ever seen in me and I almost laughed at that. She just wanted to hurt me, and she knew exactly how to do it.

  I said that I wanted to meet Simon but quickly realised that I had to extend the invitation to the other two lads as well. I’d never had nephews before and I genuinely wanted to meet them, but I wanted to meet my son more. Even the sound of the word ‘son’ in my head felt weird. Wanting to see him felt very real, I wanted to see ho
w he’d turned out. I thought that they’d put up a fight but they didn’t.

  I was surprised when they said that the lads knew about me. It pleased me, but Tom soon put me right and said that Mum talked about me. Good old Mum. I knew I could rely on her.

  We didn’t make definite plans or any plans at all but Tom’s a man of his word so I knew that the meeting would take place.

  They left the pub before me but were only just leaving the car park by the time I left five minutes later. I saw the back of their car disappearing through the gate and around the corner as I walked across the tarmac.

  I didn’t set off straight away either, I sat in the car staring straight ahead and trying to come to terms with why I felt the way that I did. I’d left... No, let’s be honest... I’d run away, because I didn’t want anything to do with the baby Michelle was having. And when Angie had persuaded me that there was no baby I was happy, so why was I so interested in him now?

  I thought about that all the way home.

  We left the pub in Colin’s capable hands and sat together in our flat as I told Angie everything that I could remember about the afternoon. She’d asked me to tell her ‘word for word’ what had happened and I did the best I could.

  After I’d finished talking I could almost see the cogs going around in Angie’s head as she worked out what she thought.

  ‘How did you feel when you saw her?’ she asked.

  ‘Surprised,’ I said, ‘I thought I was just meeting Tom.’ I could tell from the look on her face that she hadn’t meant it that way. She wanted to know how I had felt. I shrugged my shoulders and admitted, ‘I don’t know. She looked just about the same as she did before. Her hair’s a bit longer but apart from that she’s barely changed.’ Still not what she was looking for so I stopped beating about the bush, ‘If you mean did I look at her and think Oh my God I wish I’d never left her behind or I still love her then the answer is no. I’m not going to lie to you Angie, it felt a bit odd seeing her holding hands with Tom but it would have been odd seeing him hold hands with anyone. He’s my little brother for God’s sake.’ She looked sceptical but I assured her that I was telling the truth, and I was.