Victor Hart finally rolled into the village of Willowbrook later than usual. Martha, his wife, had been waiting for him, already worrying that something might’ve gone wrong on the road. Their little boy, Tommy, was pestering, Wheres dad? Wheres dad?
At last two big yellow vans lit up the Hart yard the boys dad had arrived.
Dad! Hooray, youre here! Tommy shouted, leaping off the heater, hopping on one foot, trying to cram into his big boot while tugging his coat on the move.
Where are you off to, you daft lad? Its freezing and nights falling, go sit by the fire; your fatherll be in a jiff.
Tommy pouted, his lips pursed, ready to whine.
Dont you cry, I told you, Martha scolded, Dad will be here soon.
Victor still hadnt stepped inside.
Whats he up to, I wonder? Martha muttered, thinking he might be drunk. Tommy, stay inside; Ill go check.
Mum, Im scared, Tommy whined.
Scared of what? Sit quiet, youll be fine, Martha snapped.
She tossed a blanket over his shoulders and kept bickering with Tommy when, all of a sudden, the front door swung open. A cloud of steam puffed in, and right through it trudged Victor, not alone.
Standing beside him was a young woman, barely eighteen, wrapped in a shawl, a brown coat with a black collar, huge grey eyes that seemed half hidden, strands of light hair curling on her forehead.
Come in, come in, Ethel, Martha said, Tom, help the guest settle in.
Martha, not quite sure what was happening, helped the girl off her coat. Ethel was heavily pregnant, waddling like a plump autumn duck. She shuffled to the kitchen table, sat down, and folded her chilly, thin hands on her knees.
Tommy peeked timidly from the heat.
Wheres my son? Victor barked. Nick, what are you doing? Bring the lad here whatever dad brought. Victor snatched Tommy from the stove and hoisted him up to the ceiling. Martha, get us something to eat, were not going to starve.
Late that night, as Tommy finally drifted off, he heard Victor muttering, Martha whispering softly, and the guest sobbing quietly. By morning the whole village knew Victor Hart had brought his younger, pregnant sister.
Poor girls been abandoned, her parents gone years ago, what are we to do with her? Martha told the other women over a cup of tea.
Why didnt you mention before that Victor had family? You said she was an orphan.
Whats an orphan if youve got no parents?
And where did this sister come from?
She grew up in a childrens home, nothing more to tell, Akulina. Got a husband, maybe?
Enough with the gossip, Tom.
Soon after, Ethel Tommys aunt was taken to the local hospital to give birth, and a tiny sister appeared for Tommy: Milly. Ethel never returned.
She died, Martha said flatly, cutting off any argument.
Milly was a little redcheeked bundle, like a doll. Tommy saw her in neighbour Sallys window, a tiny plush named Antonia, and thought Milly would be even more precious. Now Ive got my own little doll, alive, he giggled.
Victor, do what you like, I dont need her here, he told his dad.
What? Youre joking, Tom? Shes a child, blood and all.
Ive given you my word, do what you must.
Its all the same to me, Victor sighed.
Dont send Milly to a home or an ice hole, Tommy shouted, Mum, please, let me look after her. Ill take care of her myself.
Martha waved him off, but Tommy clung to her skirt, pleading in a sweet, stubborn way. Victor sat silently, head bowed.
Fine, do what you like, he muttered, and Martha turned and slipped out into the garden.
Tommy knelt beside Milly, who slept soundly in a cheap blanket, unaware that her fate was being decided. He whispered, Sleep well, sunshine, my little one.
He kept dreaming his mother would throw Milly away, calling her Milly in a whisper.
Dont you worry, I wont do a thing to your Milly, his mum hissed, eyes narrowed. Tommy stared at her, frightened she might drown the baby.
Enough, youre a joke, a neighbour laughed, calling her a little girl.
Martha sighed, I was confused at first, then I got used to the lad. Ill probably hire a nanny next year.
And thats how life settled. Victor works as a truck driver, Martha milks the cows on their small farm, and Tommy and Milly grow up together.
Every day after school, Tommy would race home, arms wide, scooping up his tiny sister, Milly, on her thin legs. The other kids in the lane all called her little girl.
She grew up into a bright, lively girl. Tommy later did his national service, and Milly would scream when he left.
The lads praised him, said he raised her right, like a proper father, the village women would chat, Marthas a bit rough, Victors a quiet sort, but the kids are different.
Milly eventually got a boyfriend, married, and had children of her own. She studied nursing, returned to Willowbrook as the village doctor, found a good husband, and settled down.
When Victor grew old, Martha passed away, and Milly took her mothers place, even though shed resisted at first.
One night, Milly heard a voice calling, Mum?
Whats wrong, love? Thirsty? Hurt?
Sit down, sweetheart, Martha (now a memory) seemed to say.
Please forgive me, Milly.
Im sorry, I wanted to put you in a home
Mum, youre joking, dear? Its my uncles child, not yours. Im not angry, I dont need your forgiveness
The aunt you thought was yours shes gone, and the father I guess he tried to keep you hidden, but the truth came out.
Everyone knew Victors younger sister was the one whod died after giving birth. Shed been a good housewife, looked after Nick, then left for the hospital and never came back.
Mum you took your husbands lover?
Yes, love, I took her in. She was pregnant, what could I do? Let my own son go hungry because my husband couldnt handle it?
Who decided?
God, I suppose.
Ah, Mum youve lived a hard life.
The girl you think of isnt her, shes another orphan with the same name as yours. Your real sister is alive, younger than me by about ten years.
What?
She left you back then, walked away.
Mum
Forgive me, child. I couldnt keep the secret. You have relatives cousins, aunts, uncles.
Yes, Mum, I have a big family because of you. My brother Colin is the best brother anyone could ask for. Aunt Kate, Uncle Victor, all of them Im grateful you gave me life.
My dear, my dear
Marthas health slipped, and when her time came, she left peacefully, smiling at Victor one last time.
Now, Milly Maria Hart tells her own children about the tangled web of their family, how every girl and woman in the village learned to stand tall, just like Martha did.
Dont judge your life by others stories, Maria would say, We never know how things will turn. My mother managed what seemed impossible, and were all better for it.
