BITTERNESS AT THE BOTTOM OF THE SOUL
The Council should have taken you years ago to some home! Get out of our family! I screamed, my voice breaking with fury.
All my anger, all my heartbreak, was aimed at my cousin, Matthew.
Oh, Matthew how much I adored him when we were children! That golden hair, blue eyes as bright as a summers day in Kent, the way he always had a cheeky grin. That was Matthew.
Every holiday, our family would crowd around an oak table groaning with roast beef and Yorkshire puddings, laughter spilling into every corner. Among my cousins, I always favoured Matthew. He was a born storytellercould spin you a yarn as quick as youd blink, making the lot of us roar with laughter. And he could draw, too, sketching a half dozen pictures in one evening, pencil flying over scraps of paper. I’d slip his drawings away and carefully tuck them into my desk, treasuring every one.
Matthew was two years older than me.
When Matthew turned fourteen, tragedy struckhis mum, my dads younger sister, simply didnt wake up one morning.
Suddenly, everyone was flustered: what would become of Matthew? The first stop was his father, but he was long gone, remarried, clearly unwilling to disrupt his new life for an awkward teenage son. The rest of the extended family wrung their hands and claimed their own troubles; as the saying goes, when the sun sets, you cant find a relation for dust. In the end, my parents, already with two children, took Matthew in themselves. After all, his late mum was my dads baby sister.
At first, I was secretly pleased Matthew would live with us. But
On his very first day in our home, I noticed something odd. Struggling to comfort him, my mum asked gently, Is there anything youd like, love? Please, dont be shy.
Without missing a beat, Matthew answered, A Hornby train set.
Now, this was no cheap toy; it cost a small fortune. I was stunnedhis mum was barely gone, and this was his hearts desire? My parents, kind as ever, bought the train set. And so it continued: Buy me a tape player, a new pair of Levi jeans, a branded jacket This was the late 80s, when such things werent just expensive, but impossible to come by, yet my parentssacrificing what little we had for our familysomehow procured them, striving to appease the grief of an orphaned boy. My brother and I complained not once; we understood.
By sixteen, Matthew discovered girls. He couldnt get enough of them. Worse, he set his sights on me, his own cousin. I, a netball player, was agile enough to dodge his clumsy advances, and when that failed, wed argue, even scuffle. Many nights, Id run off to my room, tears streaming down my face. My parents never knew. What child wants to worry their mum and dad with talk of things so private?
Having been sternly rebuffed, Matthew wasted no time turning his charm on my friends. They vied for his attention, blissfully ignorant of his true nature.
And then, Matthew began to steal. Boldly, unashamedly. I remember my money boxmonths of saving my lunch money for gifts for mum and dademptied one day. Matthew denied everything, swore up and down hed never touch it, not even a blush on his cheek. My heart broke in silence. How could he? To steal, under our roof? Like a vandal, he shattered our familys trust, and I stewed, worrying myself sick, while Matthew seemed truly baffled by my pain. He behaved as though the world owed him something. Thats when my love curdled to hate, and I finally exploded:
Leave our family! Get out!
I lashed out, words spilling like arrows, so many I could never count them all.
It was Mum who finally calmed me. From that day forward, Matthew ceased to exist in my eyes. I ignored him completely. Only later did I learn that everyone in the family knew full well what sort of person he was. The ones nearby had seen it all over the years. Our family lived a few postcodes awayno one had warned us.
Matthews old teachers even approached my parents: Youve taken on more than you realise. Hell only drag your own children down.
Later on, at his new school, a girl named Alice fell for him, utterly and forever. She married him the moment she finished her A-levels, and they had a daughter. Alice quietly endured Matthews antics, his lies, his endless cheating. As the old saying goes, being single’s a struggle; in marriage, troubles double.
All his life, Matthew took advantage of Alices love, as though her devotion was his due.
Later, conscription cameMatthew was called to serve in the British Army, posted off to Cyprus. There, he managed to start another family, slipping off during leave for secret rendezvous. After leaving the Army, Matthew stayed in Cyprus, for his son was born there.
Alice, stubborn as ever, made her way out and persuaded him, by hook or by crook, to come back to England, to the family fold.
My parents never, not once, heard a word of thanks from Matthew for taking him innot that theyd have expected it.
Now, Matthew Henry is sixty. Hes a regular in the local Anglican church. He and Alice have five grandchildren.
To everyone else, it might look like a happy ending. But the bitterness from those days lingers, sharp as ever.
Not even the sweetest honey could tempt it away.
