Victor drives in from the countryside later than usual. Margaret, his wife, waits anxiously for good news, already fearing something went wrong on the road. Their son, Tom, whines, Wheres dad? Wheres dad?
At last two bright yellow fenders flash in the driveway of the Harringtons; Victor pulls up.
Dad? Papa! Hooray, dads here! Tom leaps from the stove, hopping on one foot, trying to slip into his boot while tugging his coat over his shoulders.
Where do you think youre going, you little rascal? Its freezing and nights fallinggo back to the fire, Ill be right with you, Margaret says.
Tom scowls, puffs his cheeks, and threatens to bawl.
Dont you cry, I said Ill be right with you, his mother snaps, Dad will be in a moment.
Victor still hasnt stepped inside.
Whatever hes doing, Margaret frets, maybe hes had a few drinks. Tom, sit tight; Ill go check.
Im scared, Mum, Tom whines.
What are you frightened of? Sit, I told you. While she throws a shawl over Toms shoulders and argues with him, the front door swings open and a plume of steam pours in. Victor staggers in, not alone.
At the doorway stands a young woman, about eighteen, wrapped in a shawl, a short brown coat with a black velvet collar, huge grey eyes that dominate her face, and a light curl of hair on her forehead.
Come in, come in, Eleanor. Margaret, help the guest settle down, Margaret says.
Without understanding, Margaret helps the girl remove her coat. Eleanor is heavily pregnant, swaying like a plump autumn duck before a storm. She waddles to the kitchen table, sits, and folds her trembling, chickenthin hands on her lap.
Tom peeks nervously from the stove.
Wheres my son, Nik? What are you doing? Bring the thing dads brought. Victor snatches Tom from the stove and hoists him up to the ceiling. You, dear, get something to eat while we wait; we wont starve.
Late that night, as Tom drifts to sleep, he hears his father muttering, his mother whispering disapprovingly, and the guest sobbing softly.
By morning the whole village knows that Victor Harrington has brought his younger, pregnant sister.
The man abandoned her; mother and father are long gone. Where do you put a girl like that? Margaret tells her friends over a cuppa.
You never said you had relatives, Victor. You claimed to be an orphan.
If there are no parents, am I not an orphan?
And where did this sister come from?
She grew up in a childrens home. What else do you want to know, Agnes? As if youd care. a friend snaps.
Soon Eleanor, Toms aunt, decides to give birth. Victor drives her to the district hospital, and shortly after a tiny sister appearsMilly. Eleanor never returns.
Shes dead, Margaret says curtly, snapping to keep Tom from stumbling over her.
Milly is a little, rosy dolllike baby. Tom sees his neighbor Sallys baby, Anton, and thinks Milly will be just like him. Ha, now I have my own little doll, alive, he grins.
I dont know what you want, Victor. I dont need her here, Margaret protests.
What are you saying? My child is alive, bloodspilling?
Ive given you my word. Do what you will with her.
What kind of woman are you, taking this on at first Where do you want to put her? An orphanage or a frozen pond?
For me it makes no difference, Margaret sighs.
No, Milly cant go to an orphanage or a pond, Tom shouts, Mum, please, let me look after her. Ill care for her myself. He clutches at the hem of her skirt, cursing gently, begging her to keep his sister.
Victor sits silently, head bowed.
Fine, do what you like, he mutters. Margaret turns and disappears into the barn.
Tom kneels beside Milly, who sleeps peacefully in a thin blanket, unaware that her fate is being decided. He whispers sweet nothings, calling her sunshine, little one.
Toms sleep is restless; he dreams his mother will throw the baby away. He calls her Mila in his mind, a whispered threat.
Sleep, you little devil, I wont do anything to your Milly, his mother hisses, eyes narrowed, fearful that Tom might drown Milly.
Ha, what a laugh, he mutters, She calls me a helper, Margaret.
Dont worry, Margaret says, I was lost at first, but now Im used to the girl. I wont give her away. Next year Tom goes to school; Ill think about hiring a nanny
And so they live. Victor works as a lorry driver. Margaret milks the cows, and Tom and Milly grow up together.
Tom sprints home from school, arms spread wide, catching his toddling sister Milly on her tiny legs.
All the neighbouring boys and girls call her the baby and she becomes the villages little girl.
Tom later joins the army, his sisters cries echoing in his memory.
He raised her, took care of her, for both dad and mum, the village women gossip, Margaret is blunt, Victor is a quiet man, the children are different.
Milly later welcomes a brother from the army. After a month he settles, takes a drivers job, brings a girl home, watches to see if Milly approves. She does, and the future looks bright.
Tom marries, Milly grows into a beautiful young woman. She goes to the city to study, but first visits her brother, then returns home.
Milly knows shes a niece, not hidden, loved equally by both sides, free of heavy memories. Sometimes she feels her mother loves her more than Tom does, but she accepts it.
Milly finishes her studies, returns to the village as a doctor, finds a good husband, marries, has children.
The elders age, Victors time to depart arrives, Margaret passes away. Milly takes her motherinlaw in, even though she resisted at first.
One night she hears a voice calling, Mum? She sits up, hears her mothers soft plea.
Are you okay? Do you need a drink? Does it hurt?
Sit down, dear, Margaret whispers.
Im sorry, Milly.
For what? Margaret asks.
Sorry for everything. I never wanted to send you to an orphanage
Mum, you think I dont understand. Hes your brothers child, essentially a strangers. I hold no grudge, you neednt apologize
The sister was yours, a daughter?
How?
Its a story of love and loss. Your father brought her back, confessed everything. Everyone learned his younger sister had been raised at home, looked after Nikola, then taken to give birth, never returned
Mum you took your husbands lover?
Yes, dear, I took her in. She was pregnant, a child inside. What else could I do? Abandon a child because the father failed? Perhaps fate intended it. I wanted a daughter, and you appeared
Who sent it?
God.
Mum, youve lived a life by the grave
Its not her its another orphan girl with the same name as your mother. Yours is alive, younger than me by ten years
How?
She left you then, walked away.
Mum
Im sorry, child. I couldnt keep this secret, it was unfair to you. You have relativesbrothers, sisters, aunts, uncles. Kolya is my best brother, I always hoped hed be my real brother. You have Aunt Kate, Uncle Vic, cousins, a huge family, all thanks to me. You werent born by me, but you were given life, my dear.
My dear child
Milly lives on, her mothers memory gentle and smiling, joining Victor in the afterlife.
Now, as an older woman, Milly, now Mary Harrington, tells her own story to her grandchildren, recalling how every young girl and woman once stood where Tamara once stood, laughing, crying, and learning to live beyond what seemed possible. She reminds them not to judge others lives, for anyone can change, and to remember how many years ago these events unfolded. She bows her head in respect to the woman who survived it all.
