Watch what you say! Hes your brother, for Heavens sake! My stepdad snapped, giving me a sharp rap on the back of the head. It didnt hurt much, but it bruised my pride. Mum shook her head disapprovingly.
You were just a little thing once, needing care and love. You had all that, didnt you? she said.
I felt a flicker of shame, though it was only a spark. Over time I realised Id become, to the grownups in our flat, nothing more than a piece of furniture like an old wooden chair theyd dragged from a cottage when they moved to a new house, then left to gather dust.
Until I was five, Id been fairly happy. Then dad vanished, Mum grew sad and sometimes wept. I never dared ask where hed gone; I only knew my parents were divorced.
For the next two years, Evelyn Thompson, my mother, worked long hours, tired herself out, smiled less and seemed perpetually gloomy. I wanted to help, but I didnt know how.
My greatest help is to behave well, Grandmother Martha told me, and, turning away, added in a low voice, Dont bring the boy to his father, God forbid.
I tried my best obeying Mum and Gran, not sulking, and at school I applied myself. When Mum suddenly brightened, looked younger and even prettier, I told myself Id caused it.
I was wrong.
Mum blossomed after meeting David OConnor. They married quickly and he moved into our flat.
This is Uncle David, love, Mum announced, smiling. Hell be your dad now.
Come off it, Eve, the new stepdad brushed off, chuckling. What kind of dad am I? He shrugged, Im not opposed to it. I, however, was not.
David was a cocky sort, running the flat as if it were his own house, imposing his rules while Mum gazed at him with adoring eyes. Who could like that?
I tried to rebel, refused to obey Uncle David, but when I saw Mums face fall, I fell silent. Gran even urged me to be good: Your mother will at least stop overworking two jobs. David may not be rich, but hes sober and hardworking.
So I settled. The three of us got along enough, and soon baby Tom arrived a common son for Mum and her new husband. I watched the adults scramble around that flushed, wrinkled, squeakylikeakitten creature.
One day I asked why they did it, and David gave me another rap on the back of the head.
Think before you speak! Hes your brother! He said. It wasnt painful, but it wounded.
Mum shook her head again. You were just a little boy once, needing love. You had it all. I felt a tiny shame.
Gradually I understood Id become, to the adults, a sort of old stool theyd taken along when they moved from the cramped council house to a tidy terraced one. Everyone now stepped around me, and if they stumbled over me they only glanced for a second, then moved on. It would be a shame to throw away a sturdy stool, after all.
My imagination was vivid. Left to my own devices I read a lot, dreaming of becoming a psychologist. I soon changed my mind, though; I had to help Mum with chores because David was often away on work, and it was hard for Mum and little Tom to manage alone.
Secretly I hoped Mum would notice me more, but I was wrong. Evelyn was completely absorbed in caring for Tom and David; I was at the bottom of her list. Only Gran tried to show affection, but she died when I turned thirteen. Thats when I finally snapped.
I didnt sign up to be a cleaner or a nanny! I shouted at both parents. Take care of your own Tom! Mum gasped. Hes your little brother, hes only four, how could you
Youve raised him as you see fit, David muttered. No thanks.
Youre nobody to me! I roared. Mum, tell him! Mum tried to calm me. Son, thats not right.
Wheres my own father? Why wont you speak of him? The argument erupted, ending in Mums tears and the fact that I was no longer asked to look after Tom. I never learned much about my father then.
He finally appeared when I was in college, training as an electrician. He was a thin, ordinarylooking man with tired eyes. He approached me as I left the campus with my mates.
Talk, we need to, he said, staring straight at me. I snapped back, but something made me listen.
He was welldressed, smelled of cologne, and the street was bright and busy nothing to fear.
My names ValElliott. Im your father, he announced, as my friends stepped back, curious.
No way, I scoffed. Where did you pop up from, old man?
I understand your reaction, Val said calmly. But it isnt simple. Listen, then decide what to do.
Inside a nearby café we sat, and he told me his story: years ago hed been in prison for an armed robbery, got out early, started a modest garagerepair business with a mate. Hed wanted to approach me sooner but thought a convicts past would shame me. Now hed made his money, and he hoped Id be proud.
Im glad youre here, Dad, I said, halfheartedly. Ill never be ashamed of you.
Never say never, he warned. And dont blame Mum.
We talked for ages after that and began meeting regularly. I felt like Id finally been given wings a real father who cared.
Mum noticed my bright mood and asked what was up. I promised not to tell her, but I couldnt hold back.
Ive got a father now, so everythings fine! I blurted. Dad? He showed up out of nowhere! I thought Id stripped him from my life!
Mum, Im an adult now I muttered.
You dont need a criminal father! He almost killed someone, you realise that? she screamed.
Hes decent! He loves me, unlike you. I dont care about you and Tom any more! I shouted back.
She pleaded, I love you too, I want the best for you!
Ive got everything I need! If you keep stopping me from seeing him Ill just run away! The shouting went on.
Mum eventually broke down, but I was less shaken than before. The stepdad intervened at the end, chastising me for harshness but not really scolding me. Perhaps he hoped Id finally leave and not cause more trouble.
I did plan to leave, but Val explained Id need to restore my parental rights first. He wasnt going to be a notorious dad in any biography. I was only a year and a half from adulthood then, so nothing changed.
Mum and I drifted apart, though she never drove me away. After I earned my electricians diploma, I moved into Vals flat. I was happy, but only briefly at nineteen Val fell ill and died. Hed been sick for years, keeping it from me.
He left a will: a flat in Manchester, a couple of million pounds in the bank, and his share of the garage business. I mourned, but soon settled into a comfortable life.
Years later Mum called out of the blue wed only exchanged polite greetings lately: How are you? Hows your health? This time she asked to meet.
I know youre well off now, she said, a hint of flattery in her tone.
Im not a millionaire, but Im not broke either, I replied, unsure where she was heading.
Our situation isnt great. David lost his job and cant find a new one. Toms about to go to university; tutors and tuition will need money. She sighed.
Im sorry to hear that.
Son, can you help? Youve got the money, dont you?
Thats my fathers money, the man you despised. He ruined your life, I retorted.
Dont I deserve some compensation for that? she pressed. I raised you despite everything. Now you owe both me and your brother.
You think because Tom was born, you can spit on me? Did you forget I never abandoned you? I snapped.
Dont speak like that, love. I still care for you, she pleaded.
Thats it, Mum. If you called me here just to milk me, goodbye. I stood up, ignoring her tears, and walked out.
I owe her nothing. Let them sort their own problems. My decision stays firm.
