Dearest Son
Ellen, you simply wouldnt believe it! Matthew and I have decided, were off to Spain again next year! My stepfather was absolutely beaming with delight. He says he wants that same hotel with the sea view. Well, what can I do for my own son?
He made a point, quite without realising, to call him own son.
Im happy for you, I replied, memories flickering back to happier times before Matthew appeared from nowhere. Own son but youve always told me were a family, that it makes no difference whether Im yours by blood or not.
He had said so. That I was his daughter, regardless of flesh and blood.
Now, dont start that again Ellen, youre my daughter, thats not up for debate! You know I love you as if you werewellas if you were my own. But Matthew
He hardly noticed he was proving my point.
Matthew is the son. And I suppose Im just an acquaintance.
Ellen, what are you saying? I told you, youre like my own!
Like my own Did you ever once take me to the seaside? In all these fifteen years youve called yourself my father?
He never had. Arthur was always fond of claiming that there was no difference between me and Matthew, but I knew better each time I heard what he did for his sonthe difference was vast.
It just never worked out, Ellen. You know how hard things were with money, back then. Youre old enough to understand what two weeks at a five-star hotel would cost. Its expensive.
I understand, I nodded, Expensiveto take me. But for Matthew, whom you only met half a year ago, youre already talking about buying a flat on a mortgage so he can bring a wife home. I suppose those arent significant expenses if its for your son?
Im not buying him a flat. Who told you that?
People talk.
Well, tell those people not to spread nonsense.
Something in me flickered back to life.
You really arent?
Of course not. Oh, and guess where were off this Saturday?he didnt make me answerGo-karting! He did some racing at university, apparently, and Ill just tag along.
Go-karting, I repeated. Sounds thrilling.
Doesnt it just!
Can I come with you? The words slipped out before I could gather them.
Arthur, hesitant, stumbled over his reply: Er, well, Ellen I think youd be bored, honestly. Its really well, its a bit of a mans game. Matthew and I wanted to chat, you know, about father-son things.
That stung.
So it might interest you, but not me?
Not exactly Its just, weve never had years together. Were trying to make up for lost time. We wanted it to be the two of us. You understand?
You understand. Of all phrases in our new vocabulary, that was the cruellest. I had to grasp that blood took priority over bond, and that my place was now somewhere outside the gates.
Matthew truly was impressive. Raised without a fatherall because his mother never told Arthur he existedand yet, against all odds, he was accomplished, clever, handsome, generous.
Dad, I helped out at an animal shelter, fixed up the kennels.
Dad, you know I got a first in my degree?
Dad, look, Ive repaired your mobile.
He was more than a sonhe was a flawless son.
That evening, once Arthur had finished his tea at mine and headed home, I lingered over old photos Arthur and Mums wedding (Mum, gone these five years now, leaving only Arthur and me behind). All of us at the cottage My school-leaving photo
Nothing was ever going to be the same again.
***
Ellen, are you awake? Its urgent, Arthur had arrived at mine as early as eight in the morning.
Whats the big emergency?
I swept my fringe back with a headband and switched on the kettle.
Its about the flat for Matthew.
So its true, then? The words slipped out with a gasp.
Sorry, love, but yes its true.
So you lied to me.
I didnt want to upset you. But I need advice! I really think I should hurry. Hell want to marry soon, surely. While hes still young, he should have a place of his own. I remember what it was like for me…
Then take out a mortgage, I muttered, really wishing we werent talking about Matthews new flat. Matthew did land on his feet, didnt he?
Yes, yes, I know. But, you see, you know what my credit records like Matthew deserves a bit of help from a father he never had.
And so?
Will you help me? If I asked?
Depends how.
Let me explain Ive saved forty thousand pounds. Thatll cover the deposit. But the bank wont give me the loan. Theyll give it to you, thoughyouve got a clean record. Well put it in your name, Ill make the payments, obviously.
The illusion of there being no difference between us was gone forever. There was a difference. He wasnt asking Matthew to put himself at risk.
So, Matthew gets the flatand I get saddled with the mortgage? Is that it?
Arthur shook his head with a look of genuine hurt, as if I had suggested it.
Dont be like that! Ill pay it all I dont expect you to pay a penny. It would just be in your name, thats all. Think about it, yes?
You know, Arthur, Im not thinking about whether Ill take a loan or not. Im thinking about the fact that you no longer think of me as a daughter. Youve got a son now. Someone youve known six months, me, fifteen years, but the only thing that matters is that hes yours.
Thats not fair! Arthur flared. I love you the same!
No. Not the same.
Ellen, thats not right! Hes my blood
Curtain down. I was no longer his daughter. I was accepted, manageable, so very convenientuntil someone real came along.
I see, I managed, polite, I cant, Arthur. Someday Ill need to buy a place of my own, and the bank wont give me a second mortgage.
It seemed only now that Arthur remembered I was also without a home of my own.
Ohright, yes, youll be needing your own as well But for now, while youre not buying, you could help out. Ive forty thousand, theres not so much more needed. Its only for a year or two.
No. I wont put my name to anything.
And I never believed Arthur would understand.
Fine, he said, if you cant help me as a daughter nevermind. Ill sort it out myself.
Whether hed ever truly considered me a daughter, or whether it was just convenient, no longer mattered. From then on, Arthur was someone I saw only in photographs.
One evening, scrolling absent-mindedly on my phone, I saw it.
A photo from the airport. Arthur and Matthew. Both in pale jackets, Arthurs hand resting on Matthews shoulder, and beneath, the caption: Off to Dubai with Dad. Family means everything.
Family.
I put my phone down.
A memory from my own childhood came rushing back. It was years before Mum married Arthur. I was maybe five. Life was modest, and my favourite doll from Granny had broken. I was sobbing, and my own fathermy bloodhad said, Ellen, what are you crying for? Stop bothering me with nonsense.
You could never distract himdrink was all he cared for. Truth be told, Id never really had a father at all. I thought Arthur had taken that place
Arthur tried again, not long after.
Ellen, I think we need to do something about your lack of trust
What lack of trust, Arthur? I told you, its no.
You simply dont see it. Matthew he never had a father. Thats a big gap to fill. Hes a grown man, and he needs a home. You wouldnt have to do anything, just put your name down; I promise you wouldnt spend a penny.
Wholl fill my gaps, I wonder
He bristled at that.
Enough, Ellen! I cant deal with arguments. I do love you, honestly! But you must see Matthew is my real family. When you have your own children, youll understand. Yes, I love you differently, but that doesnt mean I dont need you.
You need me. As a resource.
Cool down, Ellen! Youre being dramatic.
You dropped me for him in half a year, Arthur, I said quietly. Im not asking you to choosenot that theres really a choice. You spoke the truth: Matthew is your own, and I never really was.
Six months passed. Arthur didnt ring once.
One day, idly checking for news, I came across a new photo.
Arthur and Matthew, standing in the mountains. Arthur in smart ski gear, the caption: Teaching Dad to snowboard! He may be a bit old, but with your son, you can do anything!
I stared at the picture for a long time.
I reached over to my desk to finish a report, when my phone buzzed. Unknown number.
Hi Ellen. Its Matthew. Dad gave me your number, but is too nervous to call himself. Hes found another way for the flat, doesnt need you, but he worries about you. Hed really like you to come to ours for the Bank Holiday. He doesnt really know how to explain but hes asking a lot.
I typed a response, deleting and rewriting it again and again.
Hi, Matthew. Tell Arthur Im truly glad all is well for him. I do still think of him. But I wont come. Ive made my own plans for the Bank Holiday. Im off to the seaside.
I didnt say Id bought those tickets myselfand was going, not to Spain, but to Brighton, and as it happens, not with a father, but with a friend.
I pressed send.
And thought, perhaps, I could be happy without him after all.
