Michael

It’s an ordinary house, as average as they come; one small property in a block of near-identical brick-built terraces. The paint is fresh, but not too fresh. And the door, fronting directly to the road, looks well-used. But the windows are clean; no litter fouls the frontage…

And there is a light on inside…

Charlotte sits in the car, inert. Her face is a pale sheen and, as I take her fingers in mine, her hand is cold.

I lift the fingers, press them to my lips. “This is it, then.”

She nods but doesn’t move. “Suppose she doesn’t want to see me?” She’s gasping for air…

Panic attack?

“… She abandoned me all those years ago. Suppose she just didn’t want me?”

“Why would she not want you?”

“Because I’m his.”

James speaks. “There are plenty of mothers whose children have unworthy fathers, but they still love them.”

“You don’t have to do this, Charlotte,” I say, “but if you don’t, you’ll never be happy. Whatever happens, good or bad, at least you’ll know. Your life can move on.”

A figure moves past the window. Partially silhouetted against the light inside, nonetheless, there is the impression of a pale face, a red tint to the hair.

Charlotte straightens up, muttering. “Right… I’m okay. Let’s do this.” Without looking back, she steps out of the car and crosses the road.

I wind the window down. “Got any tissues in the car?” murmurs James.

“Course I have.”

*****

Charlotte

I stand in front of the door, suddenly timid again. My heart pounds so hard there’re touches of black at the edge of my vision.

Chill out…

Calm down…

*Deep breath*

*Roll neck and shoulders*

My chest loosens and my breath flows a little more easily.

Good to go…

My finger hovers over the brass-button bell, then presses. A Bing-Bong echoes from somewhere beyond.

movement, the bang of a

The door opens.

She’s there.

of her eyes. Her mouth is down-turned at the corners. Silver threads through amber hair. But her green

to speak but find I can't. Sucking for saliva, I try again. “Hello. I’m…

Reaching out, she touches my face, her eyes widening,

words turn into a shriek. “Jenny!” And she flings herself at me, throwing her arms around me. “You’re alive. Oh, God. It’s you. You’re

so am I. And she holds me tight, then stands back to look at me, then pulls me close

*****

James

the dash and pulls out a box of tissues, then a rucksack, slinging it over his shoulder. “Why d’you reckon women cry when they’re

“Beats me.”

both get out of the car, standing to lean against it. Eyes creasing, Michael is holding in a smile, the tissue box cradled

to want ‘em

mother are flooding tears, babbling incoherently at each other. Up and down the street, curious faces are swinging

Jade…

My Jade…

Finally finding your dreams…

two women pause, I think to grab air. Charlotte looks my way, swiping the back of her hand under her nose and Michael waves the tissues at her. She nods as he walks across, offering the box.

Green…

So familiar…

him, then return

Michael… my husband… Mom…” Charlotte whispers

“You’d better come inside.”

a family friend. And I am delighted to meet you

*****

but immaculate; dingy but dust-free, it looks like cheap rentals everywhere. The same tired furniture. The same dismal wallpaper. I’ve stayed in a few like it myself in my time; after my divorce, when money was tight, and home was

serves coffee. It’s cheap supermarket instant, tasting mainly of chicory and it rattles down my throat kicking and punching as it goes. But I drink the dreadful brew anyway. To my side, Michael looks down at his cup,

Get it over with…

says, “Would you like

rucksack. “I have something better. “Champagne. Thought I’d keep it back ‘til

turns shining eyes on him, albeit eyes shining red and

kisses her cheek. “Congratulations. I’m so happy for

Mitch’s eyes follow him…

just a

But a son-in-law…

was a

Meeting my new son…

And it was Michael…

back, an ankle resting

Tall…

Handsome…

Devastatingly charming…

I’d be pretty

raise my glass. “To

others follow suit.

to Char… to Jenny. She’s been searching for you

a hint

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