The Imposter Child

I worked at the Willowbrook Health Resort, the one I had to reach by a commuter train from the town of Whitby. The journey was exhausting, but the pay was decent and the schedule let me combine work with my little garden club. In the summer it was tolerable, but in winter the walk to the station was dreadful: darkness, a handful of people, and the empty parking lots Yet they didnt dump me near the lots; they parked me right by the platform. A large black LandRover pulled up, the window rolled down, and a man with a thick beard asked:

Care for a ride, love?

Emily had never been called a beauty, and in any other situation such a line might’ve flattered her. But her old boots were numb, her nose was running, and the train was still seven minutes away. All she wanted was to get home to a warm, heated house. Who else would stir the fire for her? In half an hour the train would warm her up, shed dash to the garden centre, then pop to the shop, get home, light the stove and fix dinner. She had enough on her plate to worry about, not idle chatter. So she answered:

Fine, youre a sight for sore eyes, arent you?

and walked along the frostbitten path. The car passed her, stopped again, and a different man no beard, tall and solid hopped out, deftly helped her into the back seat.

The bearded one, smiling broadly, called out:

Youve caught my eye. Youll be having dinner with me.

Emily instantly sensed that the driver was far too drunk and unaccustomed to rejection. She burst into tears.

Let me go, my daughters waiting! Why would you want me? Im thirtytwo, not pretty, and I cant keep a conversation. You dont even look at my coat; a neighbour gave it to me out of kindness. Under it Im wearing an old sweater and trousers. What dinner?

The hulking fellow whod ushered her into the vehicle leaned over and whispered something to the bearded man. The bearded man shook his head and said:

All right, dont sob. Im taking you back from the resort, youve seen my sweater, havent you? You look just like my mother, she always dreamed of being taken to a nice restaurant. Come on, dont stall. Want me to buy you a dress?

I just want to go home, Emily sniffed. I need to fetch my daughter.

How old is she?

Four.

And wheres the father?

He left.

Mine left too. Should I go to another woman?

No. His mother keeps saying the child isnt real. She thinks the babys from a lab.

What do you mean not real?

We did IVF. He agreed at first, then she said children born that way have no souls. Hes good but very impressionable, Emily defended her exhusband as best she could.

Not real, then, the bearded man repeated. Alright, lets go see. Tell me where your nursery is, or whatever its called. Tom, drive.

Emily sank into the seat, frantically trying to work out her next move. It was clear the bearded man wasnt about to let her go. Her only hope lay with the hulker, who seemed to look at her with a flicker of pity.

When the whole party the caretaker, the parents in their warm overalls, everyone finally fell silent and stared at Emily, she realised shed never been seen like this before. Little Irina, unafraid of strangers, asked straight away whether the bearded man was FatherChristmas and if anyone had seen her father. Shed been asking about her dad from everyone; Emily was used to it and no longer blushed. When they got back into the car, Irina was fascinated by the steering wheel and announced she could drive too.

The bearded man laughed:

Cheeky little thing. You say youre not real. Want some icecream?

I do! Irina squealed.

They headed to the icecream parlour, then to a supermarket where the bearded man filled a basket with useless groceries: salted fish, exotic fruit and mouldy cheese. Emily would have preferred chicken and pasta, but you dont look a gifthorse in the mouth.

They dropped them off right at the house, and the bearded man, now a bit sober, begged for a cup of tea. While Emily tended the stove, he stared, then said:

I always thought my childhood was hard Do you really have a toilet out in the garden?

Really, Emily replied with a grin.

She no longer feared the bearded man; she saw he was harmless, just a foolish drunk. His sidekick turned out to be a decent chap, having slipped in some milk, bread, decent cheese and childrens curd. He must have his own kids.

When the unwanted visitors finally left, Emily suddenly trembled. She started crying, startling Irina, but couldnt stop: tears flowed as they had since the day her husband packed his bag and returned to his mother, leaving her heavily pregnant in the freshly bought cottage. Hed said the child might be not real, but the house should stay theirs.

The next morning, the same black LandRover waited outside the resort. The bearded man was gone; only his driver, Tom, remained.

Hop in, he said. Ill take you into town.

Why? Emily asked. Do I look like your mother?

Dont be ridiculous, Tom snapped. Im heading that way anyway, thought Id give you a lift.

All right, Emily sighed. Wheres your boss?

Hes napping. Dont be angry, hes a decent bloke. Yesterday was his mothers birthday if she were still alive, that is. He doesnt drink.

Emily nodded. What did it matter? She got in.

At first they drove in silence; Tom wasnt much for small talk. Then he asked:

So the child really came from a testtube?

Actually, yes.

Funny what people dream up, eh?

Do you have kids?

Nope. Ive got three younger siblings, theyve driven me mad. Ones enough.

Right, Emily agreed.

Irina loved the car and asked if theyd go to the icecream parlour again.

No money for that, Emily warned.

Come on, Ill treat, Tom offered, waving his hand.

On the way back Irina fell asleep. While Emily fumbled with the seatbelt, Tom scooped the little girl up and carried her toward the house.

Little thing, he muttered. Not worth much.

For a few days Emily didnt see Tom, then she spotted another black LandRover, this time with a bearded driver.

Victor, he introduced himself. Sorry about the other night, I wasnt myself. Id really like to invite you to dinner at a restaurant. Not today, whenever suits you.

Emily first wanted to refuse, but then thought, why not? She could find a dress; the only problem was who to look after her daughter.

Tom, hearing this, said:

I can watch her.

Leaving her child with a stranger felt odd, yet Toms calm gave her some comfort. She suggested taking Irina to the playroom, which made it easier for everyone.

The dinner turned out amusing. Victor was chatty and a bit vain, but charming. Emily hadnt felt like a woman in ages, so when he suggested a gallery visit the following week, she said yes.

Irina loved both the playroom and Tom. When he brought in a bag of groceries, Emily thought it was too much, but Tom said:

Its from Victor.

The parcels kept turning up every few days. Emily didnt know whether to thank Victor or politely decline, as she earned enough to buy a loaf and butter, as the saying goes. Yet the gestures kept coming. Victor began to act like a suitor, whisking her to restaurants and cultural events when his schedule allowed, which felt more like a date. Tom, by default, became the regular babysitter, and everyone seemed content.

One evening Tom blurted out:

Victors fallen for you. Hes even thinking about marriage. The child scares him hes still a stranger to it.

Emily was taken aback. In love? He hadnt even taken her hand. And a child that wasnt his

Id rather not marry, she snapped.

And why not? Tom perked up. Hes rich, youd be safe as houses.

I dont need a rich man

What do you need then?

Emily shrugged. She remembered her exhusband no, she didnt want anyone like that.

I dont know, she admitted honestly.

Suddenly Tom lunged, pulling her close and planted a kiss. Emily startled, stepped back. Tom, flushed, stammered:

Sorry, I dont know sorry

and fled. Emily wasnt sure whether shed liked it or not; it was sudden and confusing, leaving her unsure how to act around him afterwards.

The next day Irina fell ill with a high fever a nightmare for the spa, where sick leave was frowned upon. Victor was upset; theyd planned to go to the theatre.

Maybe Tom can sit with her?

What if she catches something? Emily hesitated.

Come on, she wanted to see the play!

Why Emily agreed is unclear. It was inconvenient to waste pricey tickets, but she wanted Irina to feel better. By evening Irinas fever broke. Victor later spoke of a skiresort trip, and Emily cut him off:

Listen, you buy me groceries and theatre tickets, thats fine. But I wont go on a holiday at your expense.

What groceries? Victor asked.

The ones Tom brings.

I get it. Toms a good soul. But the resort my mother loved skiing; it would be nice if someone invited her.

A sudden clarity struck Emily. She took Victors hands and said:

Your mother would be proud of you, Im sure. But you dont need to force this. Find someone you truly love. As for me, Ill always be myself, no matter how you dress me. I think I love someone else

Victor, hurt, let a tear slip, complained he didnt understand women, yet he drove her home. On the way back he said hed go his own way, leaving Tom to do as he pleased.

Irina fell asleep hugging the teddy bear Tom had given her. Tom dozed in his seat. Emily tiptoed over, leaned down and brushed a soft kiss on his lips. He woke, bewildered. Irina whispered:

You ran off too fast yesterday. I didnt expect it. It scared me, you know?

She kissed him again, and this time neither of them was afraid.