A Letter to My Father

A Letter to My Father

Oh you are a right one, arent you, Johnny! Charlotte didnt care for manners anymore, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her blouse.

Her mum had made her that blousestitched it with a scrap of silk shed kept aside, heaving a sigh as she thought it was too lovely to give away, but set to work on the sewing machine anyway.

After all, the girl was growing up fast. She needed nice clothes. Whod so much as glance at her if she went about scruffy?

Wouldve been better if Mum hadnt tried so hard… Whats even the point? Charlotte thought as she watched her first loves back.

Said love, Johnny, was striding away in his best soldiers march and didnt look back. Not even once.

It hurt, more than she could have imagined.

Charlotte stifled another sniff, but remembered shed managed to sneak a bit of mascara onto her lashes, despite her mums nagging. Couldnt risk the tears.

Johnny. John. My Johnny…

Her one and only! They only had half a year togetherCharlotte had counted. To the day, since theyd met. Six months exactly, and so much had happened.

Johnny did glance over his shoulder eventually, but Charlotte pretended she didnt see.

You know what? Good! She went to him with such news, and he just turned his nose up? Let him go! He wants his freedom and the open seas? Off with you then! What, does he think shes just a kid? Shed have her baby and raise it on her own, thank you very much. Didnt need his permission or his honour.

Charlotte was fuming, but deep down, a raw, sharp pain was gnawing at her.

How could he? Hed told her he loved her, promised her everything, even said theyd get married. And the moment she mentioned the baby, he bolted?

Well, mentioned is a bit rich…

She told him she wanted more than just the odd weekend together, and he replied that the sea was calling, and he wouldnt change his plans for her whims. Said that if she loved him, she should come with him.

But how could she leave Mum behind? Especially now, with a baby on the way, to the other end of the country where she knew no one?

No. Absolutely not.

Charlotte stood up from the bench, smoothed her skirt and fussed with her hairwhat little there was, but a bit of curling did wonders. Mum was right: looks can change things. Look at Johnny! Nowt to write home about, really, but he had something about him. The girls went mad for him; he was funny and clever, could have a proper conversation, even with only his five classes and two hallways of schooling, as they said up north. Still, he was sharp…

She herself wasnt exactly an academic either. Finished college and that was that. Refused to go to uni despite her mums naggingMum even had a go at her and wouldnt talk to her for nearly a month! Had that ever even happened before?

But Charlotte knew her own mind. What did she need a degree for, when she was earning good money on the building site already? Enough to help mum and keep herself going.

Mum eventually got over it, fussed over her as always. Thats what mums do. But what would she say now, when she found out she was going to be a gran? Would she kick off?

She neednt have wondered. Of course she went mad.

Her mum shouted so loudly the neighbours came running. Not that they explained anythingjust said Charlotte had some trouble at work and sent everyone away. Family business stays in the family, after all.

How could this happen, love? Didnt I warn you to save yourself for marriage? Whos going to want you now?! Oh, Johnny, you snake! Never thought hed do something like this! He seemed such a decent chap! Unbelievable! Danced away the moment you mentioned the baby, did he?

Charlotte wondered if she should tell her the truth. Shed peck her to bits for sure. Better to keep it simpleless trouble for her, and Johnny would be long gone anyway.

Yes, Mum. Thats what happened.

Oh, my poor girl… Whatll we do now?

Well cope, Mum! Were not kids. Well be fine, as long as you dont leave me on my own.

As if Id ever leave you! Whats this nonsense? What mum deserts her child if she needs help?

Charlotte closed her eyes in relief.

There you have it, Johnny! Well be all right without you, my love! Off you go to your precious sea if you care more for it than for your child.

After a while Charlotte barely recalled the details of her last talk with Johnny. She even convinced herself shed told him about the baby and hed basically smacked her in the face by leaving. So, the anger and pain grew roots in her heart, twisted together and would whisper now and again:

Oi, lookyour daughters the spit of her dad! Same little devil! Darts about, drives you up the wall. See if she doesnt ask where her good-for-nothing father went. Swanned off to his ocean one day and vanished. Shell run off just the same when shes older. All because she doesnt know how to love or be loved! Like father, like daughter…

Maybe thats why Charlottes daughter, Molly, grew up certain that in this world, only her gran really loved herand even then, only half the time. Gran would fuss and cuddle her, but let the neighbours start gossiping out back and shed push Molly back to her mum:

Go on! Off with you to your mother! Let her deal with your woes. Oh what did we do to deserve this, Lord?

For the first three years, little Molly thought woe and punishment were just more of her names. Same as Molly herself. Thats what her mum called her, once in a blue moon when her heart thawed a bit. Then, Molly would get a rare and cherished bit of affection.

Come here, love! Let me do your hair. Youve got such lovely thick locks… Not like mine. Just like your dadshis hair was thick and dark as a ravens wing, eyes blue as the sea he ran away to… You look just like him, beautiful as you are, but dont count on happiness. Not in this family!

Why? Molly would pout, on the brink of tears.

Just because!

Her mothers voice would crack and Molly knew better than to ask more. Better to scuttle off to Gran and bury her face in her apron, smelling of roast potatoes and shepherds pie, and let the tears flow. First feeling sorry for herself, then for her mum, and, for good measure, her gran too. After all, it was her mums shame Gran had to bear.

Molly didnt really understand what was so shameful, or why anyone should have to drag it around their whole life, until much later. She was turning ten when her mum up and bloomedgot herself all dolled up and went off to the city, starting over.

Molly stayed with her gran.

It’s not like she missed her mum all that much. Shed gone off to work for long stretches before, always saying, Someones got to put food on the table. But this was different. In the past, her mum came back smiling, even if tired. Shed bring gifts and new clothes, remark over how thin Molly was, accusing Gran,

Mum, whys she so skinny? People will say we dont feed her!

Your girl hardly eats at all. Picks at her toast and shes full! If her mum were here, shed eat properly! But me? Ive got to mind the animals, the farm, and the house, plus the child! You want things done different, you come home yourself and look after her!

No need to fuss, Mum. Shell be fine. Look, I got you something nice!

What do I need your presents for? Oh, my girl, I wish youd just stay nearby. My heart aches… I miss you…

Her mum would darken, and Molly would shrink into the corner, dreading the row that was sure to come.

Oh, so youre bored, are you?! You think Im having a grand old time?! Im still young and pretty, but whats the use? I live like an old spinster! And now youre having a go as well! Makes me think whats the point of anything! Mum, for heavens sake, give me a bit of sympathy! Lifes hard enough already. Id never have let him go if Id known it would be like this…

Its no use, love. Whats done is doneno sense crying over it now.

Mum!

What?! You have a childraise her! If you wont, write to her father, see if hell take her in?

I give Molly away? Not a chance! He never wanted her, and now I should hand him a ready-made daughter? No way! Not after slogging all these years.

Well then, stop whinging! The girl hears everything, you know. Dont you think it hurts her, learning her dad was a scoundrel and her mums all worn out from working herself to the bone?

Well, let her be hurt! Life isnt all roses, you knowsometimes it slaps you so hard you dont know where you are! Anyway, lets drop it, Mum. And dont you dare write to Johnny yourself! I know you!

Of course, Gran kept her promise. But only for a while.

Molly was prepping for her GCSEs when the news came: her mum had given birth to a baby boy, and a week later shed passed away, never getting the chance to explain anything to anyone.

The mystery of Mollys beginnings would have stayed forever locked up if she wasnt as stubborn as she was.

When Gran heard the news, she packed up and left for the city, leaving Molly bawling at the doorstep, with strict orders to keep the house running.

Weve got to think about living, not tears, love, Gran whispered as she tied her black shawl tighter. What are we going to do? How are we going to cope? I havent a clue…

Gran, Ill get a job!

Lets see, my dear. We need to get things sorted with the little one first. His dads claimed him but wont lift a finger to help. And me… will we manage, Molly?

Do we have a choice, Gran? I grew up more or less without a mum. What, were going to put him in care? Never!

I know, I know… But Im scared, Molly. I dont know how long Ill last…

While Gran was away, Molly tore through the house. She knew, as sure as anything, she had to find her father. Otherwise she and Gran wouldnt cope…

She knew what to doshed known since she was a child. Before she could even write, shed draw pictures for her father, hiding them from her mum and gran. Whole stories in pictures: telling about a new puppy, or learning to make fairy cakes with Gran. One day Gran found the albums hidden under Mollys bed but said nothing. She tried to speak to her daughter again, but eventually gave up, seeing how deeply she still blamed the man who had vanished, never knowing he had a daughter at all.

Then came the wobbly letters as Molly learned to write, and she filled notebooks with her lifeits joys and sorrows, her grumbles and little victoriesaddressed to a father shed never sent a word to.

Now, it was time for a proper letter. The one shed finally send.

Molly found his address, tucked away behind a photo frameher mothers secret, hidden so well Molly would never have found it if the frame hadnt slipped and shattered when she took it from the wall. As she swept up the glass from under the studio portrait of her mum, she saw the edge of a battered envelope.

Whats this? Molly tugged at the corner and, when she realised what it was, burst into tears. Mum! Why? What have I done to deserve this?

There she sat, pouring her heart out to her mum, asking forgiveness, for what she couldnt say…

But she didnt feel any lighter.

Sorry, Mum, but Im not doing what you wanted. You never wanted me to know my dad, I know… But I need him! Gran always says shes not going to be around forever. It annoys me, but I know shes right. We cant do this on our own. And if he turns out to be as awful as you said, at least Ill know not to count on anyone but myself. If hes not… Well. You always said I was ungrateful, but can you blame me? You never tried to love me, just made out Dad was a monster. How can I know for sure unless I meet him? So dont hold it against me, please. I need to hear his side.

She didnt think for a minute that the man whod once written to her mum might have moved.

She didnt let herself think about anything, really. She just got on with it.

All night and half the evening, she worked over a single page ripped from an old school exercise book. She managed, after a fashion, to find the words: her hurt and hope all bundled in three short lines, asking for help, begging for some sign he cared.

She posted the letter on her way to school. When she got back, Gran was already there, with a restless, red-faced, tiny baby shed brought from the city.

Here you are, Molly… This is Alfie. Your brother… Gran sobbed and turned away as she laid the little lad on the bed, and Molly peered at him with wide eyes.

Gran, whys he so little?

Thats normal. You were even tinier. You see how big youve got, dont you? Hell grow.

Really?

Of course. Youll see.

Gran, what about his dad?

He says hell help, but he wont take him in. Says he cant.

Well, its better than nothing, Molly said, mimicking Grans tone so perfectly it made her laugh.

Oh, Molly! How will we cope?

Oh, you know, just like everyone else gets bywith a bit of hard work!

Molly learned to look after Alfie fast. Ksenia (now Kate), with her battalion of siblings, popped in once, whipped off Alfies nappy and snorted at his skinny arms and legs.

Well, hello, little soldier! Good lungs, thats a start! Right, Molly, listen uptheres nothing to be scared of. All mums cope and so will you. Ill show you the ropes and then youre set. Wheres Gran?

Shes in town sorting paperwork. I just wanted to check with you.

Why, whats wrong with Grans methods?! Kate frowned.

Oh, dont get me wrong! I just thought youd knowthe twins are only just out of nappies!

Ha! Yeah, I remember all right. Feels like yesterday.

So youll show me? I dont want to do anything wrong, hes so little still…

Dont worry, Molly! Youll be great! Kate whipped another nappy out, showing Molly how to wrap up a wriggly baby and make him happy again. Years ago, they married girls off at fifteen. Youd have two by now! Youll manage.

Molly watched, thinking she wasnt at all ready for motherhood. Its more than nappies and bottles, after all. You have to learn to love your kid… but how?

Alfie taught her, in the end. From that day, Molly didnt walk home from schoolshe flew. At home, someone was waiting for her. And Alfies first gummy smile went to her, not Gran, by fates odd choice. He learnt her name before any other word.

Mowy! hed shout, toddling across the garden to meet her at the gate.

Im here, sweetheart! Come to me!

His chubby hands would wrap around her neck, and Molly would melt, kissing his grubby cheeks.

Whereve you been now? Why are you filthy again? Lets go and get washed.

Hed tolerate soap and water for hernever for Gran. Gran would watch and laugh,

Slippery little eel, isnt he! Hold on tight, Molly, or hell bash his nose again.

Busy with Alfie, Molly quite forgot about the letter to her dad. No reply came, and she decided his silence was an answer in itself. He didnt care.

A worm of resentment twisted a bit, but she barely noticedthere was no time for self-pity with Alfie needing her.

Gran kept on about university, but Molly wouldnt hear of it.

Gran! You know I cant! Id have to leave the village, and how would you two manage? No, its not happening,

Gran argued her case, and Molly got defensive. There was plenty of work here: on the dairy, in the corner shop that Kate and her husband had just opened. Kate had already offered Molly a job if she wanted it.

But Gran wouldnt let up.

Molly! Cant you see youre wasting your life, just like your mum did! I want whats best for you!

I know, Gran, but there are more important things than study!

Then, right in the thick of these rows, he arrivedthe man she thought shed never see.

Molly was walking Alfie home from Kates house. Alfie, worn out from playing with the twins, started to whinge but trailed behind her, knowing better than to push his luck. Near the gate, he tugged her skirt:

Mowy! Carry me!

She scooped him up, smiling at his cheeky Carry me!

She pushed open the gate, took a few steps down the path to the door, and stopped. There was a stranger on their porch, balancing on a rickety stool, fiddling with the porch light that hadnt worked in living memory.

There we go! Sorted! the man said, grinning as the bulb finally lit up, and hopped down.

Thats when he saw Mollyand Alfie, quiet for once in her arms.

My girl…

Johnny took a step, then another, and before Molly knew what was happening, he pulled both her and Alfie into a hug.

My dear girl…

Molly was shocked to see tears in this strangers eyes.

Im sorry, love! I had no idea about you! Is this your lad? he nodded towards Alfie, who stared wide-eyed at the funny man whod just appeared in their lives. Will you trust him to his granddad? Come here, let me look at you!

It suddenly dawned on Molly who this man was.

Hes not minenot my son, I mean! Dad, this is Mums… Hes my brother, Alfie…

I see! Johnny hugged the little boy close, and Alfie, oddly, just nestled in, nuzzling the mans stubbly jaw.

Prickly!

Not for long, mate! Ill shave! Right, love, lets get inside. The mozzies out here are brutalIve nearly been eaten alive these last half hour!

Its the river, Dad…

I remember…

Gran greeted Molly with a look that told her all she neededolder wounds had been healed. If Gran was at peace, then so was she.

What did it matter what went before? The point was, now her family had grown, and that was something to be thankful for.

She watched Alfie darting around her fathers feet, and knewthis was their life now. There was a man in the house again, at last. And that was good…

Molly would later learn her letter hadnt been lost at all, but had reached its address. Her dad hadnt lived there for ages, but the woman now at the house went out of her way to track down Johnny, sending the letter on to him. It took time; shed had to search for contact details, send the letter, then it waited months for him while he was at sea.

As soon as your letter reached me, love, I came straight away! I thought I was alone in the world. I wrote to your mum plenty of times, begged her to come home. I wanted a family.

And Mum?

Just the one note back. Said she was married and to stop pestering. So I stopped… Oh love, if Id known how things really were, Id have swum here myself! I cant believe my luck. I dont deserve you. Come with me, will you? Ive got a big flat in Portsmouthloads of space, sea views, sunsets to make you grateful for life itself.

I cant, Dad

Why not?

Im not leaving Alfie and Gran behind! Thats not right!

Who says you have to leave them? Flats big enough for all of us. You need to get to uni, love. Gran can look after Alfie and well get you sorted for college.

But what about money? Gran and I are barely coping already. Alfies dad promised to help, but he doesnt. We havent seen him in over a year. He only ever showed up once, stayed ten minutes, saw Alfie was all right, and disappeared.

What, you think I cant look after two ladies and a little lad? Hey! Come on! Start packing. Grans already said yeswe were just waiting on you. Now Im taking that as a yes, yeah?

Yeah, Dad. Yes…

Molly hugged her father, grateful for the day shed found the courage to write to him. Soon, shed be heading to the seaside with him, where the ocean would never be called calmnot really.

And if her life was never truly peacefulif there were enough storms and calms to fill three oceansMolly would know for certain that she now had a safe harbour waiting, come what may.

And in that harbour, it would always be warm and homely. Her family would be waiting, along with the smell of freshly baked cheese and onion pasties shed never quite manage to perfect, despite Grans best lessons.

There, too, would be her tousle-haired brother, greeting her in his earnest, nearly-deepened voice:

All right! Dad said youd be round! Molly, Ive missed you!

Ive missed you too, mate. I really have…She pulled Alfie into a bear hug as the sun slanted golden through the kitchen window. Down by the water, the gulls were shrieking, the tide smacking stones and salt into the airchaos, yes, but alive and calling, always calling. Molly glanced at her father standing by the kettle, humming off-key, flicking the switch with the same nervous energy she remembered from stories her mum used to tell.

Gran wandered in with a basket of clean linen and a whiff of lavender. Dont just stand there, love. Table needs setting if were to eat before the little one strips it bare!

They laughedher, Gran, Dad, and Alfie, all tumbling about this secondhand kitchen with its chipped mugs and riot of colour. It was imperfect, yes. But it was theirs, stubbornly, sweetly, all theirs.

For the first time, Molly felt the ache begin to softengrief deepening, not fading, replaced with a bitter-sweetness she would carry like a secret beneath her skin. She saw the world through her mums eyes now: rough-edged, fierce, worth every moment fought for.

Later, as darkness crept in and the salt wind rattled the windows, Molly wrote a last letter, this time to herselfa promise. She wrote that she would never run from the storm, nor shut her heart against hope. That sometimes, broken strands can be knotted tighter than before. That sometimes, the sea does bring something back.

And as she tucked the page behind the old photo on the mantelpiece, she smiled. She was homea little battered, yes, but loved, at last, from every side.

Tomorrow, there would be work, and noise, and the mess of learning what it meant to belong. But tonight, Molly sat by the window as the world faded quiet, and listened to her familys voices, tangling through the house like a net.

She would never stop listening. Not ever.