WITHOUT A HEART…
Dorothy Middleton returned home feeling rather pleased with herself. Shed just been to the hair salon. Age be damnedshed recently turned 68, and nothing cheered her up like having her hair and nails done by her favourite stylist. Dorothy didnt care what anyone said; a bit of pampering was good for the soul, or whatever was left of it.
Dottie, a lady came by looking for you. Said she was some kind of relation, called out her husband, Roger.
A relation? At my age I hardly have any left! Must be some fifth cousin once removed, come sniffing around for a favour. You shouldve told her Id moved to Timbuktu, Dorothy grumbled.
Oh, come now, no need for all that, replied Roger. Seemed decent enough. Tall sort, reminds me of your motheryou know, may she rest in peace. Smartly dressed too. Didnt look the begging type.
About forty minutes later, the relation knocked at the door. Dorothy admitted her herself. The resemblance to Dorothys late mother was uncanny, and she was dressed like shed just left Harrods: expensive coat, boots, gloves, and tiny diamond earringsDorothy noticed; she could spot a real gem at twenty paces.
Dorothy invited her to the table, already set for tea.
Well, if were kin, lets have some introductions. Im Dorothy, no need for formalities. This is my husband Roger. How exactly are we related? she asked.
The woman hesitated, cheeks reddening. I’m Sarah. Sarah Williams. Theres not much between us in ageI just turned fifty on 12th June. That date doesnt ring a bell at all?
Dorothy paled.
I see you remember, Sarah said quietly. Yes, Im your daughter. Please dont get flustered, I dont need anything from you. I just wanted to see my mother. My whole life Ive wondered why she didnt love me. The truth is, shes been gone eight years. My father passed away just two months ago, and in his final moments, he told me about you. Asked me to forgive him, if I could, Sarah explained, her hands trembling.
Dorothys husband looked at her in shock. You have a daughter?
Apparently I do. Ill explain it all later, Dorothy replied stiffly.
So youre my daughter? Splendid. Had your look? If you expect me to apologise or beg forgivenessnot happening. Im not responsible for any of this mess. I trust Dad told you everything? And if youre hoping to awaken my maternal instincts, dont hold your breath. Sorry.
Sarah asked shyly, May I see you again? I live just outside townbig two-storey house. You could bring Roger. Maybe once youve got used to the idea, youll feel differently. Ive brought photosyour grandson, great-granddaughter, if you care to look?
No thanks. Dont come again. Forget about me. Goodbye, Dorothy said, shutting the conversation as firmly as a church door in January.
Roger called Sarah a cab and saw her off. By the time he returned Dorothy had cleared away the tea things and was watching reruns of EastEnders as if nothing had happened.
Really, Dottie! You could command a battalion with those nerves. Havent you got a heart at all? Ive always suspected you were a bit ruthless, but this is next-level. Not a shred of feeling, Roger said, clearly upset.
We met when I was 28, right? Dorothy retorted coolly. Well, my dear, my soul got stomped out long before you turned up.
I was a country girl desperate for a new life in the city. Worked myself silly and was the only one from my school to get into university. When I was 17, I met Ted. Madly in love, even though he was nearly 12 years older. Life away from my poor village was a fairy tale by comparison. My grant got me nowhere; I was always hungry, so any invite to a café from Ted felt like winning the lottery.
He made no promises, but I was convinced our love was destiny and hed definitely marry me.
One evening, he invited me to the family cottage. Course I wentI was sure this sealed the deal. Soon, I realised I was pregnant.
When I told Ted, he nearly cartwheeled with joy. But as soon as I mentioned marriage, he looked at me as if Id suggested robbing a bank.
Did I ever say Id marry you? Ted replied.
No, and I wont. Im already married, love. Been for years.
What about the baby? What about me?
Oh, youll be fine. Take a break from uni if you need to. Live with us for a bitmy wifes head nurse at St. Marys, Ive got some influence at the council. When the babys born, well take care of her. Dont worryonce youve recovered, back to your studies. Well even pay you.
Back then, no one had heard of surrogate mothers. I was, unwittingly, the first on the block. What could I do? Crawl back to the village and shame the family?
I lived with them until the birth. His wife never spoke to meprobably too busy being furious. Had the baby at their house, midwife brought in specially. Didn’t nurse hermy daughter was whisked away. I never saw her again. Got a polite send-off and an envelope. Returned to uni, then worked at the factorythey gave me a room in the married quarters, imagine!
Had mates, but no one fancied marrying me til you showed up, Roger. I was 28neither here nor there, but needed to get on with life.
You know the rest. We enjoyed ourselvesthree cars, lovely house, pristine garden and annual holidays on the Med. Our factory weathered the 90s because only one section made tractor partsand heaven knew what went on elsewhere. Razor wire and guard towers still surround the place, would you believe.
We retired on a decent pension. No kidsand just as well, have you seen what children are like nowadays? Dorothy finished her tale, as if ticking off a shopping list.
We didnt live well at all, Roger retorted. I loved you. Spent my whole life trying to melt your heartnever managed it. No children, fine, but not even a kitten or a puppy ever merited your care. My sister asked for help with her niecewouldnt even let her stay a week.
Today, your daughter came, and look how you greeted her! Flesh and bloodand you froze her out. Honestly, if we were younger Id have filed for divorce, but too late now. It’s chilly living with youbloody freezing! Roger declared, heading for the door.
Dorothy felt a shiverthe first time Roger had ever spoken to her so sharply.
Her quiet life upended by a long-lost daughter.
Roger moved out to the garden cottage. Spends most of his time there now. Hes got three dogs, all strays he rescued, and a random number of cats wandering about.
Rarely comes home these days. Dorothy knows he visits Sarah often. Hes adored by the great-granddaughter.
He was always a bit soft in the head, Dorothy thinks. Well, let him live as he likes.
She never quite warms to the idea of meeting her daughter, grandson or great-granddaughter.
She takes solo trips to the seaside instead. Relaxes, rejuvenates, and feels absolutely marvellous.
