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Authors: Jane Davis
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and
cackled. 'But I had no regrets. Bill was my rock, you see.
'You know that Kevin's not actually mine?' she
twittered. 'My Bill and I got along famously, don't get
me wrong, but for some reason we never really hit it off
in the bedroom department. I mean, we gave it our best
shot, as Bill would say, but nothing happened. So we
put in for a child and ended up with Kevin. Two years
old, he was. Funny little lad, all these dark curls and a
cross little face, like he thought he'd been hard done by.
Talking of love at first sight! You grow up thinking that
the big love of your life is going to be a man, so it comes
as a complete surprise that it turns out to be a child.
That you are capable of so much love for one person. I
don't give a twaddle that he's not my own, I really don't.
I couldn't love him any more than I do.
'I often wonder what he remembers of those first
couple of years before he came to us. He'd been fostered
but it hadn't worked out. Put with a man with a violent
temper on him. They were worried that it might leave
him scarred. But I said, "Give him to me and I'll sort
him out," and Bill said, "Aye, she will an' all," and they
let us take him. He hid behind the armchair in the
corner when we got him home. It was as much as I could
do to coax him out with a slice of cake. It was about two
months before I got a smile out of him and another six
months before he let himself go and had a good old belly
laugh. I hadn't really noticed that Kevin hadn't laughed
until I heard that noise for the first time.' She nudged me.
'Filthy, it was. And the first time he took my hand in his,
instead of me having to grab hold of him to cross the
road . . .' She sighed and smiled. 'That little hand wrapped
around my big, old, clumsy sausage fingers. It was one
tiny step at a time with him. He's never been much of a
talker – my Bill wasn't either. But when Bill said something,
it made you stop and listen. Like it really meant
something. I kidded myself into thinking he'd always be
there. After he was gone, nothing was right any more.
Kevin and me was out of sorts. Sunderland wasn't home
without him, so we came back here and lived with my
sister for a couple of years while we got our bearings again.
That was before we moved in down the road.'
She had been tapping my hand that was covering the
photographs. 'That's quite enough about us. What've
you got there, then?'
I had to talk to someone and there weren't too many
people who dropped in – unannounced or otherwise.
She had caught me at a moment of weakness.
'I'm not sure,' I said, taking my hand away to reveal
the photos.
'Well, let's have a butcher's.' Lydia took the pile and
looked at them one by one, starting with the pictures of
the baby on his own. 'Oh, look at the wee bairn.' Her
face widened into a smile. 'Who's this little fella? You?'
I shook my head and shrugged. 'Oh, what a poppet.
Good set of lungs on him, by the look of it and all.' I let
her continue but the comments soon subsided. 'Did
your mother have a child before she was married
to your father?' she asked.
'She was pregnant again when I was quite small.
Uncle Pete gave me a photo recently and it was obvious.
He said the child was stillborn.'
'Uncle Pete? Now, he's your godfather?'
I pointed to the man in the photos. 'Oh,' she
mouthed silently.
'I don't understand why I can't remember.'
'You wouldn't at that age, love. I bet you'll find that
you can only really remember the odd few things
until you are least five. I know I can't.'
'I have a vague memory,' I started, warming my hands
on the sides of the mug of tea. 'I thought it was a dream,
but now I'm beginning to think it actually happened. I
can't remember everything in detail, it was more the feeling that something was wrong. I was woken up by
my mother in the middle of the night and bundled into
the car, wrapped in a blanket. I was half asleep, so I
don't think I asked where we were going, but I did ask
if Daddy was coming with us. She said, "Not
cackled. 'But I had no regrets. Bill was my rock, you see.
'You know that Kevin's not actually mine?' she
twittered. 'My Bill and I got along famously, don't get
me wrong, but for some reason we never really hit it off
in the bedroom department. I mean, we gave it our best
shot, as Bill would say, but nothing happened. So we
put in for a child and ended up with Kevin. Two years
old, he was. Funny little lad, all these dark curls and a
cross little face, like he thought he'd been hard done by.
Talking of love at first sight! You grow up thinking that
the big love of your life is going to be a man, so it comes
as a complete surprise that it turns out to be a child.
That you are capable of so much love for one person. I
don't give a twaddle that he's not my own, I really don't.
I couldn't love him any more than I do.
'I often wonder what he remembers of those first
couple of years before he came to us. He'd been fostered
but it hadn't worked out. Put with a man with a violent
temper on him. They were worried that it might leave
him scarred. But I said, "Give him to me and I'll sort
him out," and Bill said, "Aye, she will an' all," and they
let us take him. He hid behind the armchair in the
corner when we got him home. It was as much as I could
do to coax him out with a slice of cake. It was about two
months before I got a smile out of him and another six
months before he let himself go and had a good old belly
laugh. I hadn't really noticed that Kevin hadn't laughed
until I heard that noise for the first time.' She nudged me.
'Filthy, it was. And the first time he took my hand in his,
instead of me having to grab hold of him to cross the
road . . .' She sighed and smiled. 'That little hand wrapped
around my big, old, clumsy sausage fingers. It was one
tiny step at a time with him. He's never been much of a
talker – my Bill wasn't either. But when Bill said something,
it made you stop and listen. Like it really meant
something. I kidded myself into thinking he'd always be
there. After he was gone, nothing was right any more.
Kevin and me was out of sorts. Sunderland wasn't home
without him, so we came back here and lived with my
sister for a couple of years while we got our bearings again.
That was before we moved in down the road.'
She had been tapping my hand that was covering the
photographs. 'That's quite enough about us. What've
you got there, then?'
I had to talk to someone and there weren't too many
people who dropped in – unannounced or otherwise.
She had caught me at a moment of weakness.
'I'm not sure,' I said, taking my hand away to reveal
the photos.
'Well, let's have a butcher's.' Lydia took the pile and
looked at them one by one, starting with the pictures of
the baby on his own. 'Oh, look at the wee bairn.' Her
face widened into a smile. 'Who's this little fella? You?'
I shook my head and shrugged. 'Oh, what a poppet.
Good set of lungs on him, by the look of it and all.' I let
her continue but the comments soon subsided. 'Did
your mother have a child before she was married
to your father?' she asked.
'She was pregnant again when I was quite small.
Uncle Pete gave me a photo recently and it was obvious.
He said the child was stillborn.'
'Uncle Pete? Now, he's your godfather?'
I pointed to the man in the photos. 'Oh,' she
mouthed silently.
'I don't understand why I can't remember.'
'You wouldn't at that age, love. I bet you'll find that
you can only really remember the odd few things
until you are least five. I know I can't.'
'I have a vague memory,' I started, warming my hands
on the sides of the mug of tea. 'I thought it was a dream,
but now I'm beginning to think it actually happened. I
can't remember everything in detail, it was more the feeling that something was wrong. I was woken up by
my mother in the middle of the night and bundled into
the car, wrapped in a blanket. I was half asleep, so I
don't think I asked where we were going, but I did ask
if Daddy was coming with us. She said, "Not
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