WITHOUT A HEART… Claudia returned home after her usual trip to the hairdresser—at 68, she regularl…

WITHOUT A HEART

Margaret returned home after her usual trip to the hairdresser. Despite her respectable ageshed just turned 68she treated herself regularly to a cut and tidy up with her stylist. Margaret always had her hair and nails done, and these simple things lifted her spirits and gave her life a boost.

Margaret, some relative of yours stopped by earlier, her husband, Geoffrey, told her as she hung up her coat. I said youd be back later. She said shed call in again.

What relative? I havent got any left. Probably some distant cousin wholl be after something. You shouldve told her Id gone off to Scotland, Margaret replied, her voice edged with annoyance.

Why would I do that? No need to lie. I think shes from your sidetall, dignified, looks a bit like your mum, bless her soul. Doesnt seem the sort to ask for favours. Well dressed, quite posh, Geoffrey tried to reassure his wife.

About forty minutes later, the woman knocked on the door. Margaret opened it herself. The resemblance to her late mother was unmistakable, and she was dressed smartly in a pricey coat, boots, gloves, and diamond studs twinkling in her earsMargaret knew real jewels when she saw them.

Margaret invited the woman to sit at the laid table.

Well, if we’re family, lets get acquainted. Im Margaret, no need for formalities. It looks like were about the same age. This is my husband Geoffrey. So, how are we related? she asked.

The woman hesitated, her cheeks flushed. Im Helen… Helen Wilkinson. Theres not much age difference, really. I turned 50 on 12th June. Does that date mean anything to you?

Margaret went pale.

I see you remember. Yes, Im your daughter. Please dont get upset. I dont want anything from you. I just wanted to see my real mum. Ive lived my whole life not knowing. Never figured out why Mum never loved me. By the way, she passed eight years ago. Only Dad ever cared, and hes only just gonetwo months ago. He told me about you at the very end. Said he hoped youd forgive him, if you could, Helen said, her nerves plain.

What on earth…? You have a daughter? Geoffrey blurted, stunned.

Apparently, I do. Ill explain it all to you later, Margaret replied.

So youre my daughter? Well, youve seen me now. If youre expecting apologies or remorsenot from me. Im not to blame for any of this, she said to Helen, voice firm. I hope your father told you everything. And if youre hoping to spark any maternal feelings in me, dont bother. Sorry.

Could I see you again? Im living just outside town. Weve a big two-storey houseplease come visit, you and Geoffrey. You might get used to the idea. I brought pictures of your grandson and great-granddaughter. Maybe youd like to see them? Helen asked, hope thin in her voice.

No. I dont want to. Dont come back. Forget about me. Goodbye, Margaret snapped.

Geoffrey called a cab for Helen and saw her out. When he returned, Margaret had already tidied away and settled down to watch television.

Youve got nerve! You could run an army, you know. Is there no soul in you at all? I always thought you were tough, but I never thought you were completely heartless, her husband said.

We met when I was 28, right? Well, the soul was ripped out of me years before, Geoffrey.

I grew up in a village, dreaming always of breaking away to the city. Thats why I worked so hard, got into universitythe only one from my class.

I was 17 when I met Ronald. I adored him. He was nearly twelve years older, but that didnt bother me after my childhood poverty. City life was a fairy tale. My grant was never enough. I was always hungry, so any invitation from my beloved for tea or ice-cream was a treat.

He never promised anything, but I was sure wed marrylove like ours couldnt end any other way.

One night, he invited me to his cottage. I went without a thought. After that, the cottage visits were regular. Soon enough I realised I was expecting a child.

“I told Ronald. He was delighted. When it became obvious, I asked about us marrying. Id just turned 18time to start thinking about it.

Did I ever promise to marry you? Ronald replied, with a question.

No, I didntnever will. Besides, I already have a wife Just as calmly.

But what about the baby? What about me?

You? he said, as if I was an afterthought. Youre young, healthy, as strong as an oak. Take a study break at uni. Keep going till you show, then my wife and I will take you in. We cant have kids. My wifes much older. When youve given birth, well keep the child. How its sorted isnt your worry. Im someone in the town council, you know, and my wife runs a ward at the city hospital. Our child will be well cared for. Rest up, then finish your degree. Well even pay you.

Surrogacy wasnt a word back then. I suppose I was the only surrogate mother around. What could I do? Go back to the village, shame the family?

Before the birth, I stayed in their townhouse. Ronalds wife never spoke to meperhaps she was jealous. I gave birth to a daughter at home; a midwife was brought in, everything proper. I never nursed her; she was whisked away straight after. I never saw her again. They politely sent me on my way after a week, Ronald handed me some money.

I returned to university, then moved on to work at the factory. They gave me a room in the married quarters. I started as a supervisor, then became senior inspector.

Had plenty of friends and no proposalsuntil you came along. By 28, I wasnt keen on marriage, but it was time.

You know the rest. Weve led a solid life: changed three cars, a house full of every comfort, a neat summer home. Yearly holidays. Our factory held steady in the nineties because our department made tractor gauges, and nobody knew what goes on in the rest. Even now, the factory is hemmed with wire and watchtowers.

Weve got our retirement sorted. We have everything. No children, and Im glad. I see the youngsters these days Margaret finished her confession.

Weve not lived well. I loved you. Spent my life trying to warm your heartnever managed it. No kids, fine, but youve never shown love to anything, not to a kitten nor a puppy. My sister needed help for her niece, youd not even let her stay a week.

Today, your daughter cameand what did you do? Your own flesh and blood, and you… Honestly, if we were younger, Id be filing for divorce, but its late for that. Its cold living with you, Margaret, cold, said Geoffrey, his voice clouded with anger.

Margaret was startled; Geoffrey had never spoken to her so sharply before.

Her peaceful life had been shattered by that daughter.

Geoffrey moved into their summer house. Hes lived there ever since, with three rescue dogs and goodness knows how many cats.

He rarely comes home. Margaret knows he visits Helen, has met all the family, and dotes on his great-granddaughter.

Hes always been soft-headed, and always will. Let him live however he likes, Margaret thought.

She never found the desire to get close to her daughter, grandson, or great-granddaughter.

She travels to the seaside alone, rests, recharges, and feels perfectly content.