‘You could have told me, Marie.’
Marie shook her head. ‘Not my story to tell, Willard.’
It wasn’t shaping up to be the family reunion he was hoping for. When he’d started his search, he wasn’t entirely sure what he would unearth, but dead druggie mother — harsh but that seemed to be the case — wasn’t on the list. He wasn’t quite sure who to feel sorrier for: Babs, his deceased mum, or himself.
He looked at his gran and realized she probably wouldn’t even remember him tomorrow. He swallowed hard. He had to regain focus.What a bloody mess!Would his dad’s line be able to answer more questions?
As if reading his mind, Marie asked Babs if she knew anything about the father.
‘No. Mindy didn’t know.’
Mindy.
‘That lad was stabbed though,’ added Babs. ‘A few years after my Mindy passed away. Good riddance to bad rubbish.’ Her eyes shot up to Will. ‘He wasn’t your dad. He had her sleeping around with other men for money before you were born. Mindy didn’t know who she was half the time. And I will say, you don’t look anything like the ugly rat.’
Will took a long steadying breath. And another for good measure. There was no way of finding out who his biological dad was. That was it. He’d reached the end of his quest. It had allseemed so light and easy in the beginning. Sure, he figured a sad story would come his way — butthis!
And poor Babs. He observed her afresh; she really did look so frail, lost, and alone. How she must have suffered all those years, worrying each and every day about her daughter being used and abused. The thought made his blood boil. He realized he’d have loved the opportunity to get his hands on the scumbag who destroyed his mother.
A swirl of sickness hit his gut as it dawned on him he wasn’t born out of love. And it appeared all this talk of her dead daughter was having a similar effect on Babs. She was having a lucid day from dementia. It needed to be filled with happy vibes, not some strange bloke sitting in her cottage bringing up terrible times.
For years he’d managed to live without knowing about his roots. Part of him wished he hadn’t bothered. Just the thought of his biological father being some loser who paid drugged women for sex made him feel all kinds of weird.
‘What a fabulous man your grandson grew up to be,’ said Marie, beaming his way as though sensing his distress.
Babs smiled at Will. ‘I’m so pleased you look like my husband. He was a good man. Died young. That’s when Mindy met that horrible lad. Life wasn’t the same after that. Been on my own for years, I have.’
‘You’re not on your own now,’ Will found himself saying before he could think.
Babs patted Marie’s hand. ‘Go fetch my photo album, love. The one by my bed. I want to show my grandson my Willard.’
Will smiled. ‘Your husband’s name was Willard?’
‘Yes, love. I named you, and I told him to watch over you. Keep you safe, no matter what. See, he did good by you. Tell me you’ve been happy.’
Lying wasn’t something that was part of his set-up, but she didn’t need to know how his heart ached for a family, how alone he often felt, how much he threw himself into the navy just so he could belong somewhere. How could he tell her how unloved he felt? How wary he was of falling in love in case his already broken heart got broken again. He’d never given relationships much of a chance, rejecting women before they could do the same to him. It was such a dilemma to want such closeness but be too afraid to have it.
Will tilted his head and nodded. ‘I’ve been happy.’
‘Here.’ Babs waved him closer and removed her bracelet. ‘You take this. It was your mum’s.’
‘Oh no, I couldn’t—’
‘Shush now, Willard. It belongs to you.’ She slipped the gold into his palm and curled his fingers around it.
Will didn’t know what to say or how to feel. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted anything of Mindy’s. ‘Thank you,’ was all he could muster.
Her fragile fingertips raised to lightly stroke his cheek. ‘You’re a good boy. Will you visit me again?’
A lump hit his throat. ‘Every day,’ he told her quietly, not wanting her to slip away again.
‘Where are you living, love?’
‘I’m staying at a B&B along Harbour End Road. It has a nice sea view.’
‘I bet you’re a good swimmer.’
He nodded. ‘I am.’
