My mother was the confidante of a married gentleman, the very man whose blood runs in my veins. As far back as I can remember, we never had a permanent roof; we drifted from one rented flat to another like weatherblown leaves.
When I was five, my mother met another bloke and decided she wanted a life with him. He set a condition: he would take her only if she came alone. She exchanged me for this man without a second thought, dropping me off at his doorstep with all the papers clutched in my tiny hands. She rang the bell, heard the click of the lock turning, and fled. I stood there, bewildered.
The door swung open and my father, Arthur, stared at me as if a mirror had reflected his own forgotten self. He recognized me instantly and ushered me inside. His wife, Eleanor, welcomed me as warmly as she did their own childrena daughter named Harriet and a son called Thomas. Arthur had meant to send me to a childrens home, but Eleanor, with a saintly calm, refused, saying I was blameless.
At first I waited for my birth mother, expecting her to return for me any minute. When she didnt, I began to call Eleanor Mum. Arthur never felt affection for any of his offspring, me included; I was an unnecessary mouth, yet he kept me fed alongside the rest. He was a tyrant, a man who ruled his house with an iron fist. When he came home we would hide together in the nursery, hoping his gaze would never find us. Eleanor could not escape his dominion; he would never hand over the children, and she learned to sidestep his fury, to smother his roars, protecting us from his temper. The house fell into an eerie quiet; we learned his schedule, never set him off. We needed nothing, while MumEleanorshowered us with double the love and tenderness.
A doctor from Manchester once whispered a curious trick that sharpened ones sight. When Arthur finally slipped away to yet another young lover, we all exhaled in relief. By then we were nearly grown; Harriet and Thomas were finishing school. We were all the same age, so I too was preparing for the Alevels. The three of us lifted each other, sharing notes and encouragement.
Each dreamt of entering a prestigious university. Though Arthur was hardhearted, he promised to pay the tuition and kept his word. We graduated, our chosen professions finally within reach.
Then, as if the world tilted, Arthur died, leaving a tidy estate. His last lover, a young woman named Mabel, received nothingshe had not managed to bind herself to him in time. We became the rightful owners of his firm and his bank accounts.
We pressed on, expanding the business. When the moment came to open a new branch abroad, we decided I should lead it. I suggested we take our motherEleanoralong; she deserved a warm, sunny place after all. Harriet and Thomas backed the idea.
The day of departure arrived, and suddenly my birth mother materialised out of the fog of memory. I recognized her instantly; my childhood had etched her face into my mind. She seemed to recall me at last, eyes bright with sudden revelation:
Laddie, Im your real mother! Have you forgotten me? Youve grown into a man. Ive missed you terribly, worried about how you live. Lets finally be together!
Her boldness struck me like a sudden thunderclap.
Of course I remember you, I replied. I remember you running from the door, leaving me a baby in the hallway. Youre not my mother. My Mum is leaving with me now, and I dont even wish to know you. I turned and walked away, not a hint of regret stirring within me.
The woman who raised me, who never feared taking a child that was not her own, cradled me when I was ill, held my hand when my first love broke my heart, soothed my quarrels with friends, taught me, forgave my mischief, endured my teenage whims, and never reminded me that I was not her blood. To her I was a son; to me she was a mother. No other could claim that title.
We left for a foreign land together. There I met my future wife, and Eleanor liked her instantly; they grew close. My mother never hindered my private lifein fact, she dared to carve out her own happiness, meeting a kindly gentleman and settling comfortably. She now travels often, visiting her children and grandchildren, her eyes sparkling with joy. I look into those eyes and feel gratefulshe is my guardian angel, forever part of my dreamtangled existence.
