I promise to love your son as if he were my own. Rest in peace
Harry Hart was a man who seemed to have it all. A flat in Camden, a respectable job at a citybank, a sleek Audi, dinner at a fancy bistro, a wardrobe full of the latest fashions. Everything was neatly packaged, except love. He had divorced his wife, Eleanor, just over a year ago after seven years together. One chilly evening she had told him she wanted to live for herself, no children, no domestic fuss. She was too bright for ordinary family life, and he felt too plain and simple for her. Harry, ever the gentleman, valued honesty and propriety. His parents were proud of him, though they lived far away in Bristol, so visits were rare.
Leaving work a little early, Harry drove home, intending to shower and then head to a restaurant for supper. Cooking held no appeal. A sudden whim whispered, What if I break my own rules, stop for a kebab, a Coke, and have an improper night? As he rounded a market stall, he spotted a small boy, about five or six, perched on the curb, tears staining his cheeks. Harrys heart clenched. He parked, stepped out, and crouched beside the child.
Who are you? What are you doing here? Where are your parents? he asked.
Im Tommy Larkin, the boy sniffed. Im starving but have no money. Mums in hospital and Im alone. Im scared.
Wheres your father, Tommy?
I dont know. Mum said he left when I was born.
How long have you been on the streets?
Two days, sir. I have a set of keys but cant get into the flat. I sleep in the hallway. Its freezing and Im hungry.
Alright, lets buy something and Ill take you home. Youll show me where you live.
Tommy nodded. Harry bought a few pies, a bottle of cola, and a packet of crisps, then took the boys hand and headed for the address Tommy gave. The front doors lock was high for a childs reach, so Tommy could not open it. Once inside, the boy darted to the kitchen, seized a loaf of bread, and began to chew greedily. Harry set the bags on the table and said, First, wash up and change into clean clothes. Ill sort something up for us to eat.
Tommy scurried to the bedroom, then to the bathroom with his belongings. Harry peeked in, offered help, but the boy, sounding oddly mature, replied that he was a man and could manage on his own.
They sat at the kitchen table and ate. Harry watched as Tommy gulped the food almost without chewing. Slowly the boy grew full and started to doze at the table. Harry lifted him, carried him to the bedroom, laid him on the bed, and pulled a blanket over him. He wandered through the modest oneroom flat, which, despite its size, felt snug and homely. On the dresser sat photographs: a young woman with Tommy, smiling, her features delicate and bright.
Harry paced, wondering why he was there, what purpose this night served. He glanced at the sleeping child and realized the boy could not simply leave. He stroked the boys hair, slipped the keys into his pocket, and slipped out quietly. He hurried to his car, parked it in the vacant space by the stairwell, and went up the stairs back to his flat. Tommy slept soundly. Harry returned to the kitchen, cleared the table, stored the groceries in the fridge, and noticed a little notebook on the hallway mirror. He brewed a cup of tea, opened the book, and found details of Tommys mother: name, date of birth, phone number. He dialed, but the line was dead. Then he called hospitals and information centres, asking where a woman named Ivy Larkin had been taken. An oncology ward surfaced. A cold dread settled over him.
He entered the bedroom, adjusted Tommys blanket, then lay down on the sofa and fell into a deep sleep.
When he awoke, sunlight filtered through the curtains. Tommy was gone. A bright head peered over the doorframe.
Uncle, are you up? Ive made us breakfast and warmed the tea.
Harry splashed his face, shuffled to the kitchen, and found oddly shaped sandwiches on a plate. In that moment they seemed the most delicious thing in the world.
Tommy, Harry said, I found out where they took your mum. I think we should go visit her so she doesnt worry. Call me Harry, alright? Deal?
Tommy nodded. They packed a bag and headed to the hospital. After asking the ward staff for Ivys room, they slipped on overshoes and entered. Ivys face was gaunt, bruises shadowed her eyes. When she saw her son, her eyes widened and tears streamed down like a sudden rain.
My dear boy, Ive been so worried about you, left out on the streets. How did you get here? Who is this man?
Mum, this is Harry. Hes my friend, a good man. He bought me food yesterday, I ate and fell asleep, and he stayed with me.
Ivy looked at Harry. Who are you? Thank you for looking after my son. I have nowhere else to turn. I didnt know where to find him.
Mrs Larkin, please dont panic, Harry said gently. We met by chance and became friends. I wont abandon Tommy; hell live with me. Focus on your treatment, and when youre ready, youll be back with us.
Ivys voice trembled. I wont leave this place. Its the end for me. Since youre a friend, could you take Tommy to the orphanage where I grew up? Ive given the headteacher my address; he knows everything. Hes the only person I have left.
Harry promised to try. The doctor later explained, Her condition is advanced. At best, she has a month, maybe less. Shes on heavy pain relief. We can move her to a private ward if you wish.
Harry arranged a brighter, spacious room for Ivy, stocked it with juices, fruit, and warm meals. Despite the pain, she ate a little, smiling at Harry with a mix of gratitude and sorrow, silently pleading that he would not abandon her son.
Day after day Harry visited, bringing bouquets of roses, sharing humorous anecdotes, lifting Ivys spirits. She began to blush again, and hope flickered in Harrys heart. After three weeks, a faint colour returned to her cheeks. He approached the doctor, who simply said, Shes leaving.
That night Harry lay awake, pacing, sipping endless tea, listening to the house creak. Ivys mother, in her mind, clung to the thought of her sons future. In the morning she watched Tommy stand before a mirror, all dressed up.
Where are you off to looking so sharp, love?
Im getting married, he said. Ive thought it through. If I become Ivys husband, things will be different. Ill speak to a solicitor friend, then to Ivy. Youll prepare a celebratory dinner.
Ivy, lying in bed, stared at the ceiling, her thoughts only of her son. Time slipped away, and the only person left who truly cared was Harrykind, goldenhearted, and handsome. He entered the room, a towering bouquet of roses in his hands, a small box beside it, and knelt on one knee.
Ivy, Ive changed my mind. I dont want to send Tommy to an orphanage. I want him to stay with me. If youll agree, Ill marry you, secure adoption, and well be a family. A registrar will be waiting in the corridor. Will you be my wife?
She gazed at him as if at an angel, her soul overflowing. Yes, I will.
In half an hour the ceremony was over. Harry slipped a ring on Ivys finger, kissed her cheek, and hurried to the doctor.
Doctor, may I take her home? Apart from the painkillers you give her, theres nothing else. I can manage the injections, and Ill look after her.
The doctor wrote instructions, If she deteriorates, call an ambulance.
Harry returned to the ward, said, Alright, my love, lets head home. No more staring at the ceiling. A nurse helped Ivy into a wheelchair. As he lifted her into the car, he felt she weighed almost nothing; life flickered weakly within her. He wished he could press his own breath into her.
That evening, their flat held a modest wedding feast. Tommy bounced around, overjoyed. Ivys mother, her best friend, and Grandma Lena shared the laughter.
Harry spent the night beside Ivy, administering injections, soothing her cries. In the mornings she ate breakfast, then Tommy and Harry. This went on for five days, until Ivys heart could no longer bear the pain. Harry felt a piece of his soul break, as though a dear relative had slipped away.
At the graveyard, a man and a small boy stood together, surrounded by Harrys parents and friends. Harry held Tommys hand tightly, as if afraid to let go. Tommy looked up at him.
Uncle Harry, Mum told me youre my dad now, that youve found me. Is that true? Will you always be with me and never go away like Mum?
Harry crouched, pulling Tommy close. Yes, lad, Im here and Ill always be with you. And Mum, shes never truly gone; she watches from the sky and lives in our hearts.
Tommy hugged Harry, turned to a photograph of his mother, and whispered, Mum, dont worry. Our dad is here, and well stay together. Ill look after you, granddad, and grandma. Come visit often, and Ill tell you how were doing. I love you, Mum, and you, Daddy.
His childs hand brushed the picture, tears streaming down Harrys cheeks. In that surreal moment, Harrys life transformed. He finally had purpose, a reason to live, because he had promised his wife to raise a son as his own.
