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.

almost immediately, there is a hollow rumble of movement, the bang of

The door opens.

She’s there.

tired. Lines radiate from the corners of her eyes. Her mouth is down-turned at the corners. Silver

to speak but find I can't. Sucking for saliva, I

her eyes running up and down me. Reaching out, she touches my face, her eyes widening, her mouth opening. She’s trying to speak, her lips making

throwing her arms around me. “You’re alive. Oh, God. It’s you. You’re alive.

she’s laughing and crying and so am I. And she holds me tight, then stands back to look at me, then pulls

*****

James

out a box of tissues, then a rucksack, slinging it over his shoulder. “Why d’you reckon

“Beats me.”

the car, standing to lean against it. Eyes creasing, Michael is

want

at each other. Up and down the street, curious faces are swinging

Jade…

My Jade…

Finally finding your dreams…

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.

Green…

So familiar…

then return to

Charlotte whispers the final word and

in,” she says. “You’d better come inside.” She

I’m a family friend. And I am delighted

*****

tiny lounge. Shabby with age, 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

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,

Get it over with…

says, “Would you like

of his, holding up his rucksack. “I have something better. “Champagne.

on him, albeit eyes shining red and

cheek. “Congratulations. I’m so happy for

Mitch’s eyes follow him…

a daughter

But a son-in-law…

was a

Meeting my new son…

And it was Michael…

champagne into disposal plastic flutes, handing them around, then sits back, an ankle resting up on one

Tall…

Handsome…

Devastatingly charming…

pretty pleased

my glass. “To

others follow suit.

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

good a hint

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