I’m Here With You

I Remember You

Paul, I just dont know what to do! She wont listen to anyone! Shes determined to have this baby! What child, Paul? Shes only nineteen! Her whole life ahead of her! Shell drop out of university, and then what? Clean the streets for a living? We have to do something! You need to help me!

How, Mum?

His voice was so cold, Irene nearly dropped the phone. Paul had never spoken to her like that before. Hed always been her kind, gentle boy and now this? What had she done wrong? It wasnt her fault, after all. It was Lauras! Fell in lovehonestly! Silly girl. If only shed listened to her mother! But whats the use fretting now? Irene had only herself to blame. Spoiled her, let her do whatever she liked, fancied herself one of Lauras mates and now she had to reap what shed sown. Why, though? Paul had turned out perfectly. Clever, polite, always supportive. Even though he lived on his own nowwell, he was a grown man, after all, just not married yet. No matter how she hinted it was high time to start a family, he took his time

Shed longed for grandchildren for years. When Laura was a little girl, life was busyclubs, endless competitions. No time to brood on the passing years. Now? Laura was grown and independent. Sport was a thing of the past; she was barely home. Forever rushing about: lectures, friends, volunteering, and nownow there was him! Where in the world had she found that odd fish? A proper plank, that one. Irene could see right through him, but Laura was smitten. She never could see what people were really like. Tried explaining that truly decent people are rare as hens teethbut Laura wouldnt hear it. Now, look where its landed them. With Christmas coming, Irenes head was fit to burst. And Paul, toohow could he speak to her in that tone?

Paul, why are you speaking to me like this?

Where is she, Mum? Pauls hands shook as he turned the steering wheel into a narrow side street, parking up quickly. His usual calm had been shattered by the word baby. The memory of loss threatened to rise up inside him, but he forced it down. The most important thing now, he thought, was to do somethinganythingso that, if not his own lost child, at least Lauras baby might stay safe. Oh, Mum! You always loved Laura more. She was your late-in-life miracle. How could you not fawn over that wide-eyed, golden-haired wonder? Laura was beautiful from the beginning. Paul, growing up in a big English family, saw cousins born every yearit was always the same: chunky, blue-eyed, hearty children, the pride of the family. Laura was different. She had the family eyes, but a swan-like gracedelicate limbs, marble-smooth skin, as if sculpted by some master craftsman. At first, her mother seemed shy of her fragile beauty, but later she was only too proud as Laura floated among the cousins at family dos, drawing admiring glances from all.

Where did such a beauty come from? the aunts would sigh, adjusting ribbons in their own daughters hair.

And when Laura walked out onto that gymnasts mat for the first time, all neat in her leotard, feet stretched just so, it was clear she was meant for more than just pleasing the eye.

Her mother threw herself into Lauras training, letting Paul slip free of her eager oversight at last to pursue his own life. Irene loved her son, of course, but her pride in him was sometimes overwhelming, and she couldnt help boasting to anyone whod listen:

Pauls won the physics prize at the college, you know! The top award! Now we wont have to worry about his futuremy boys a genius! Results in maths soon, and Im sure hell top that as well! Its all about giving them time and attention, reallyits not difficult.

Irene never noticed the sour looks and pursed lips of her friends. She was happy in her own worldbrilliant, beautiful children, a loving husband, and a job teaching English she adored, where even students thought hopeless were soon set for Oxford by her careful hand. Parents paid her double what others earned, knowing she always got results.

Depends what people wantmoney or outcomes. If someones prepared to invest properly in their little one, Ill be sure they get what theyre hoping for.

Paul was always astonished by how his mother managed it allLauras training, a busy household, her work. She scheduled life down to the minute, a skill she passed on to her son, which he put to good use daily.

That day, too, his day had been planned out, but the news from his mother floored him.

How long had it been since he last heard those awful words?

Im pregnant. Im not keeping it. Im too young and dont want that kind of responsibility. And its your fault! So you sort it out. Ive found the clinic, you pay.

God, they rowed that day The first real fight in nearly three years together. Paul shouted till the windows rattled, furious and lost. Hadnt he offered, time and again, that they marry, start a family? They werent rich, but they had a little flatenough for startersa car, a small but growing business. What more did she want? He wasnt a lord, but she wasnt a princess either. Just an ordinary girl from some village with a name he never got right, though she laughed whenever he tried. Theyd got together not long after she bumped into him at university, arguing with him as she struggled with a broken shoe, dashing off for an exam.

Hed followed her, bewitched, and when she breezed out of her exam, clutching her top marks, she took his arm and declared, A distinction! Weve got to celebrate! Suggestions?

They dated a year or more before moving in. Paul had stayed with his gran, looking after her while his mum was away and dad was at work, but after gran passed, his parents wanted him to move somewhere bigger. The little flat felt too small now gran was gone, and somehow too empty. He missed her terribly. No more morning grumbles, Go on, ladbreakfasts waiting.

Shed been unstoppable until granddad died. Then she faded fast, saying only, Whats left for me here without him? and Paul saw for the first time what lifelong love could really be.

He dreamed of that with his girlfriend, but the look she gave him, reaching for his bank card, icy and businesslike, made him realise hed been chasing shadows.

She took his card herself. After their fight she packed in a hurry, didnt ask, just pulled his wallet from his coat. When the bank sent a message about a withdrawal, Paul called to block the card, then went to his parents.

His mother was in bits, sobbing, but his father just clapped him on the shoulder: Need help, were here.

He told them little, only that he and his girlfriend had split up. Better Irene think it was his decisionwhy give her ammunition to rage against the girl for the rest of time?

Alone on his old childhood bed, in the musty little box room with the same tatty sofa his parents refused to replace, the world seemed unbearably dark. Thoughts like molasses clogged his mind. Where was any light to be found?

It was Laura who brought it. She slipped into his room, perched on the mat by his feet, squeezed away his tears with slender fingers, then gently said, Youre hurting, Paul. What can I do? I want to help, but I dont know how.

Just sit here. So I dont do anything stupid.

She stayed all night, just sitting with him, not leaving until dawn, when the alarm went off and their mother bustled in. She never guessed Laura had been there all night, thinking it nerves before a gym competitionbut the two of them had finally talked. Paul realised his little sister was more wise and empathetic than hed ever guessed.

You should be a counsellor, Laura! hed teased, and Laura blushed, secretly pleased.

It wasnt what their mother had in mind. She wanted Laura to be a star gymnast and drove her toward it with all her energy. When she stormed into the room the next morning, she scolded Laura for dawdling, gave Pauls hair a ruffle (annoying him, as always), then dashed off to make breakfast.

Laura won those days competitions, flying weightless round the mat as the music played. She poured out all shed heard from her brotherhis pain, struggle, the bare threads of hope. Her performance moved the judges so much they began discussing moving her to London to train.

Then disaster struck. One evening, walking home from training, Laura noticed two men behind her. Her father was late from work, and she thought herself grown-up enoughno reason to call her brother. Just a short walk through the back streets.

Excuse me, miss! Dont rush offhave a look at our lovely dog!

A low growl behind her made Laura quicken her step.

Too proud to talk to us? Think youre too good? Bad idea Rex, go get her!

Terrified of dogs since childhood, Laura desperately tried not to run. She knew it would set the dog on her. The block of flats was just ahead, with lights burning in the lobby. Skirting the icy steps, Laura hurried upbut slipped at the top, crashing down hard.

She woke in hospital, her mother white as a sheet beside her. Her head spun. Her legs ached dreadfully.

Mum

Youre awake? Irenes face was so puffy from crying she could barely open her eyes. Oh, Laura how could this happen

Laura never knew if her mother grieved the pain or more that her daughters sporting career was over. She got little comfort. Laura wasnt one for self-pity, but all she wanted that moment was a hug and her mothers reassurance that things would get better. She never got it.

It was Paul who gave her that comfort.

Hey, you, chin up! I know it hurts, but shall I bring the biggest cake youve ever seen? Well scoff it until our tummies burst! Or theres snow outsideshall I pick you up and you can throw snowballs at me from a bench? Lets buy you some really cool crutches for when youre back on your feet! You still want to be a counsellor?

She hid in his arms, feeling safer.

Recovery was slow. By the end of her first year at university, Laura could walk almost as well as before. She wasnt as light and graceful; sometimes she felt like a broken mermaid, but at least the crutches, which Paul had painted bright pink at a local garage, were gone. She wanted to keep them for memorybut then she met the search team: a group helping to find missing people, many of whom faced bigger struggles. Laura gave her crutches to Helen, one of the team leaders, who coordinated searches from her flat.

Helen, do you ever get a break? Laura would ask, as she made tea and sandwiches for the volunteers out on searches.

Why would I want quiet? Helen replied. If I lived like a hermit, what use would I be? Here, Im needed. Isnt that what matters?

It was through the group that Laura met Matthew.

On this point Irene was, perhaps, right. Matthew was quiet, lacklustre to some, blending into the background. But he achieved more than most. Laura knew his storyshed never share it with her mother, who would never have approved. Matthew joined the team when his stepfather went missing. The police were no use: Wait three days before reporting. In desperation, he rang the volunteers.

Matthews relationship with his stepfather, George, was special. His mother, Susan, had married twice before George, fleeing her first husband when she was pregnant. Matthews grandparents raised him while his mother worked away, sending money, but barely visiting. When she returned, the new man she brought was harsh, and Matthew soon ran away, finding shelter again with his grandparents.

Susan left the marriage soon after, and eventually settled with George, a widowerkind, modest, and patient, loved by her friends as a real chance at happiness. Matthew didnt warm to him at once, but George took him fishing, and something in the peace of the dawn, the silence between them, changed everything. Over time, George became the one Matthew went to with any problem.

Both grandparents passed within a year and Matthew had to return to his mothers, but he wasnt afraid now: George was there, and gradually Matthew called him Dad. When Susan passed away, George quickly made the adoption official.

Only if youre alright with it, George said, squeezing his shoulder. Youre not alone, son. As long as Ive got strength, Ill be with you.

George disappeared coming home from work, likely after stepping off the bus too soon, choosing a shortcut through the park. By the time Matthew and the volunteers found him, it was too latethe cold had claimed him. If only someone had checked sooner. It haunted Matthew for ages.

After the funeral, he went straight to Helen:

What can I do? I want to help others, like you helped us.

Laura introduced Matthew to Paul almost at once.

I really like him, Paul. Perhaps even more than that.

Thats good, then?

I think so.

Whats he like?

I think hes a good man

Paul, on meeting Matthew, could see Laura was right. They looked an odd pairLaura, tall and startlingly beautiful; Matthew, short, awkward, unremarkable. Paul knew what their parents would think, so spoke up for his sister.

All that matters is his character, isnt it?

Irene sniffed but said nothing, while their father looked over his glasses, thought a bit, and nodded.

Well see.

Well, weve seen now, Paul thought, guiding his car back onto the road. He had to find Laura. Shed not do anything reckless, surely, but after Mums shouting, who could say? Irene didnt know about Matthews passing: how could she, when she hadnt even listened? Now there was only their child

It was a silly, awful accident. Matthew was talking to Laura on the phone, crossing a busy road on a rainy night, wearing a dark coat that made him invisible. No blame to the driver, who couldnt have seen him. Paul knew that stretchhow gloomy it was at dusk.

It had happened two days ago; tomorrow was the funeral. Laura hadnt told their parents, barely spoke or even cried.

Tears wont come, Paul. I just whimper into my pillow, so Mum and Dad dont hear.

Havent you told them?

I cant. Mum shell start You know what shes like. I just cant take that right now

Why Laura hadnt told Paul about the baby, he didnt know. Maybe she hadnt realised in time, or felt she couldnt share

Too many questions and no answers.

As always, Helens flat was open. Paul rapped lightly on the kitchen door, and Helen, turning from the chopping board, said, Shes in my room. Go onshe was waiting for you.

It was dark. Paul didnt switch on the lightif Laura had been crying, the brightness would hurt her.

Paul

Im here.

Good

Her voice was hardly more than a sigh, so torn that Paul strode to the narrow bed, sweeping her and her blanket up in a fierce hug.

Dont be afraid, little one. Im hereyoure not alone! Well get through this. I know it seems hopeless, but it will be alright. Theres the baby, and a new life ahead! That baby will be wonderfulwith parents like you two, how could it not?

Laura let out a sniffle, then at last cried, her tangled hair against her brothers shoulder.

You shouldve been a counsellor, Paul Youd have been brilliant I just feel so rotten. So, so rotten

That night, Paul took Laura back to his place. He told their parents simply that Laura would be living with him now, and if they didnt want to lose both their children, theyd have to accept her decisions were her own.

It wasnt easy after thatLauras pregnancy plagued with sickness, negotiations with their parents, who begrudged accepting the children were now adults. Most of these, of course, fell to IrenePaul and Lauras father visited quietly, helping his daughter prepare for the baby, even finding a good doctor to ease her discomfort as much as possible.

Little Victoria came into the world one bright morning, putting Laura through her paces, then announcing herself so loudly the midwife laughed out loud: Well, listen to those pipes! Youre a slip of a thing, but your daughters got lungs! Who does she get it from?

Her father, Laura smiled, gazing at the wrinkled, red baby, suddenly content. This was her new life. Matthew would go on in her, because the baby hadnt her familys blue eyesshe was clearly Matthews daughter. Paul might yet carry on their own line, but Victoria was Matthews legacy.

Three years later.

Vicky! Come here, sweetheart! Ive brought you a present! Paul called out as he took off his scarf, stamping snow off his boots.

Paulanother one? Laura called from the kitchen, hands white with flour. Its New Years, not her birthday! Stop spoiling my child like this!

Im her uncleand godfather! Im supposed to spoil her! One was an uncles present, this is a godfathers!

Vicky stopped tugging the old cats tailthe grumpy thing spread out on the rug in their tiny sitting room of the modest flat Paul had bought for Laura and her daughter. Hed sold his own place, and put the money towards two identical one-bedroom flats in a new block, so he could be close by for them.

With the same serious, thoughtful gaze her father had, Vicky peered at the box Paul handed her and, when he opened it, her eyes shone brighter than fairy lights.

Do you like them?

Carefully, Vicky touched the glass baubles inside.

Can I?

Of course! I brought them for you. Lets hang them on the tree together.

Laura came in, wiping her hands on her apron, as Paul lifted Vicky to help her hang a Nutcracker ornament on the highest branch.

Goodness, what a treasure trove! Paul, these are beautiful! Butglass! What if we drop one?

Doesnt matter! I know where to get more. Anyway, look how much she loves them.

Sitting by the tree, Vicky, hugging the cat, chattered away, telling him her own fantastical storythough she rushed through it so fast, the cat might tire and wander off before the ending. Shed seen the real Nutcracker ballet with Paul just yesterday, and all day shed been twirling round, copying the dancers.

Looks like she doesnt need us here at all. And you said she wouldnt enjoy it!

I thought she was too little, and wouldnt sit stillbut I was wrong. Whod have guessed my girl could be so well-behaved?

Paul raised an eyebrow and laughed.

Well remember that when you try to get her to bed tonight! Lets see, then, whos calm and whos a proper, lively child. Now, can I get something to eat? Ive got to get to work this evening.

Arent you staying? Mum and Dad will be here any minute!

They can have more time with their granddaughter. Ill be back tonightI need to relieve the poor cat anyway. Hes about had enough of her games.

You know Mums found a ballet studio for Vicky, dont you?

Oh, Lord!

Exactly. What do we do now?

Well work it out. Channel Mums energy into something positive.

And if that fails?

Then you remember youre the parent, and Ill back you all the way. She wont stand a chance against the two of us.

You really think so?

No question! Now, will someone please feed me?

Youre hopeless! When am I going to marry you off, ehso your wife can cook for you instead of me?

She ducked away from the playful swat he aimed at her and ran laughing from the room.

Youve been talking to Mum! I knew it! Dont you start as well! Ill never get any peaceIll never see my own nieces and nephews!

Women! Paul grumbled, with a mock sigh.

The figure of Clara on the tree spun gently, nudged by a tiny hand. Vicky murmured a song and spun into a dance. Even the cat shuffled out the waywho knows, perhaps she would be Englands next prima ballerina one dayPaul watched his niece pirouette, her cheeks flushed in the golden afternoon light, and felt something settle inside himan old ache soothed at last. The living room filled with Vickys soft singing, with Lauras bright laughter in the kitchen, and the scent of baking scones, drifting in from the oven. Even the old cat, patient and content, seemed to sense that every note, every giggle and footstep, belonged exactly where it should.

There would be, he knew, more long eveningsworries over work and heartbreak, sharp words with their mother, tired mornings wrangling a stubborn child into her shoes. But none of the dark memories could outshine this: the sound of little feet, the comfort of home rebuilt, hope blooming again in the humblest places.

Soon, hed leave for work, but for a few more moments, Paul let himself belong to this room, this day. He bent down beside Vicky, who twirled one final time and flung her arms around his neck.

I remember you, Uncle Paul! she whispered, as though confiding a secret. Even when you go away. I remember you in my heart.

He hugged her tight, feeling the weight of promisethe simplest, oldest one in the world. That even in the hardest winter, love leaves its mark, and what we give to each other endures, long after the music has faded.

Outside, snow tumbled from the grey sky, covering roads and gardens and sorrow alike, until everything shone pure and new.

Inside, laughter rang, and the baubles on the tree glimmered softlyfragile, cherished, unbreakable.