Without a Heart
Claudia Smith returned home, her freshly coiffed hair bouncing with every step.
At 68, she refused to surrender to old ageshe pampered herself with regular visits to her favourite hairdresser, never skipping a manicure either.
These modest luxuries were her secret weapon against the doldrums of life.
Claudia, someone claiming to be your relative popped by, announced her husband, George.
I told her youd be home later, so she promised shed return.
Relative?
What relative?
I havent got any left.
Must be some distant cousin thrice removed probably here to ask for something.
You shouldve said I moved to Timbuktu! Claudia grumbled.
Why lie?
She seemed like familytall, dignified, sort of resembles your late mother, bless her soul.
Very refined, dressed well.
I doubt shes here to beg, George tried to soothe her.
About forty minutes later, the mystery relative rang the doorbell.
Claudia let her in herselfshe did, oddly, resemble her mum, and sported an expensive coat, spotless boots, gloves, and twinkling diamond studs (Claudia knew quality sparkle when she saw it).
Claudia invited her to the table, already set with tea and biscuits.
Lets get acquainted, since were family.
Im Claudia, no need for formalities, looks like were in the same age bracket.
This is my husband, George.
So who exactly are you? she asked.
The woman hesitated, cheeks colouring a little, Im Helen Helen Davies.
Were not far apart in age; I turned fifty on June 12th.
Does that date ring a bell?
Claudia paled.
I can see you remember.
Yes, Im your daughter.
Dont worry, Im not after anything.
I just wanted to meet my mum.
All my life, I never understood why she didnt love me.
By the way, she died eight years ago.
Why did only Dad love me?
He passed only two months ago.
Told me about you just before he went.
Asked you to forgive him, if you can, Helen said, nervous but sincere.
Havent a clue.
You have a daughter, then? George asked, bewildered.
Apparently, I do.
Ill explain everything later, Claudia replied.
So, youre my daughter?
Well, youve seen me.
If you expect me to cry and beg forgiveness, that wont happen.
Im not to blame here, Claudia said firmly.
Hope your father told you the whole story.
And if youre trying to awaken maternal feelings, its not going to happen.
Sorry.
Could I visit you again?
I live nearby, out in the suburbs.
Big, two-storey house, you and George could come over.
You might get used to the thought that I exist.
I brought photosyour grandson, your great-granddaughter.
Maybe youd like to see? Helen ventured.
No.
Dont want to.
Dont visit again.
Forget about me.
Goodbye, Claudia shot back.
George called a taxi for Helen and went out to see her off.
When he returned, Claudia had already cleared the table and was tranquilly watching telly.
What stamina youve got!
You should be commanding armies.
Is there no heart in you at all?
I always suspected you were tough, but this Didnt realise you were made of stone, said George.
We met when I was twenty-eight, right?
Well, dear husband, my soul was wrung out and stomped flat long before then.
I was a country lass, always dreaming of escaping to the city, so I outshone everyone in school and was the only one from my class to get into university.
Seventeen, I met Walter.
Loved him like mad.
He was nearly twelve years older, but I didnt mind.
City life after my poor childhood felt like a fairy tale.
My student grant barely paid for anything.
I was forever hungry, so every invitation from Walterto the café, to get ice creamfelt like a feast.
He never promised anything, but I assumed our mighty love meant hed marry me.
One evening, he invited me to his cottage.
I agreed, no hesitation.
I thought Id finally tied him to me for good.
Our cottage rendezvous became routine.
Soon, it was clear I was going to be a mum.
I told Walter, and he was overjoyed.
As my situation became obvious, I asked when wed marry.
I was eighteen, could legally apply.
“Did I ever promise to marry you?” Walter replied.
“And I wont.
Especially since Im already married,” he said, just as calmly.
“But what about the baby?
What about me?”
“Youre young and healthycould carve a statue of you.
Take a leave from uni.
Stay hidden till its obvious, then well bring you home.
My wife and I need a child desperatelyshes much older.
When you give birth, well take the child.
How its done isnt your concern.
I may be young but Im important at the town council.
My wifes head of department at the hospital.
So don’t worry about the baby.
Rest after birth, then back to uni.
Well pay you, too.”
No one spoke about surrogacy back then.
I mustve been the only surrogate mum around.
What else could I do?
Return to my village and shame my family?
Until I gave birth, I lived in their mansion.
Walters wife never spoke to mepossibly jealous.
I delivered at homea midwife was brought in, everything properly arranged.
Didnt breastfeed, the little girl was whisked away.
Never saw her again.
A week later, they gently ushered me out.
Walter handed me money.
Back to university, then straight to the factory.
Given a room in the family hostel.
Worked first as a forewoman, then as senior supervisor in QC.
Had loads of mates, but nobody proposed until you came along.
I was already twenty-eightsupposed I wasnt keen to marry, but it was time.
You know the rest.
Weve lived wellchanged cars three times, house always tidy, garden thriving, holidays every year.
The factory survived the nineties because only one workshop made tractor parts, no one knew about the others.
Still surrounded by barbed wire and guard towers.
Retired with perks.
Weve got everything.
No children, nor need them.
When I see what kids are like these days Claudia finished her confession.
Not so well, if you ask me.
I loved you.
Tried all my life to thaw your heartto no avail.
Fine, we had no children, but you never spared even a kitten or a puppy.
My sister asked for help with her nieceyou wouldnt let her stay a week.
Today, your daughter came.
How did you greet her?
Your own blood and you…
If we were younger, Id file for divorce.
Too late now.
Its chilly living with youcold as a cucumber, George retorted.
Claudia was a bit frightenednever before had George spoken to her so sharply.
That daughter disrupted her tranquil life.
George moved out to the garden cottage.
For years now, hes lived there.
Hes got three dogsall strays he rescuedand who knows how many cats.
He rarely visits home.
Claudia knows he sees her daughter Helen, befriended everyone, and dotes on the great-granddaughter.
Hes always been soft-heartedstill is.
Let him live as he likes, Claudia thinks.
She never felt the urge to get to know her daughter, grandson or great-granddaughter.
Claudia travels solo to Brighton.
Holidays, recharges, and feels marvelous.
