The Paper House

The Paper House

Hurry up, Ellie, or well be late!

Im just coming, Dad! Ellie hopped about, trying to pull a sock over her foot.

Her socks were rather comical, each a different colourone pink, the other green. Aunt Martha had given her those socks, along with her trainers. Those, too, didnt match. Martha insisted mismatched things were all the rage these days.

Ellie believed her. Martha was always bang on trend. She claimed that if nature hadnt gifted one with looks, there were other ways to shine.

Ellie, however, didnt agree with her about looks. So what if Martha wasnt quite the beauty standard of the day? Skinny as a rake and dark-haired, with the sharpest blue eyes, Martha was so striking that Ellie couldnt help but laugh when they walked together down the street.

I dont get noticed, do I? Everyones turning to look!

Who? Martha would stop and peer around theatrically.

Ellie would double up with laughter. Martha was such a child at heart. Older, perhaps, but Ellie always felt almost the adult when they were together.

Marthas naivety floored her.

He said he likes me, Ellie! I dont know what to do!

Well, do you like him?

Very much! But Im terrified!

Why?

Hes so handsome. All the girls at work fawn over him. And for some reason, he likes me. Its absurd!

Martha, youre not absurd. Youre clever and lovely! Why shouldnt he like you?

There was no real answer. And no matter how Ellie tried to crack Marthas carapace of self-doubt, she made no progress. It angered Elliesometimes to the point of tearsbut she couldnt change things.

Its hard to undo whats been woven for years, love, said George, Ellies father, shaking his head, comforting his teenage daughter.

Who did the weaving, Dad? And why? Why take a bright girl and knot her up with doubt? You didnt raise me like that!

Oh, I tried not to. Had a few decent teachers along the way.

And Martha? I know youre talking about Gran, by the way. You never actually say it.

What would you have me saythat my mother was wrong? Would that do anyone any good? Youre old enough to understand respect. She brought me up, you know, on her own after my father left. It wasnt until later she met Peter. I loved him, respected himhe filled that fatherly role. He was patient while I got used to him, and taught me so much Im still trying to unpack it all. Importantly, he never let my mum interfere in how I was raised. Said men should raise boys.

Thats all well and good, Dad, but why didnt he step in with Martha?

He did. But with a girl, he thought a mother knew best. Dont be harsh on her, loveshe had her reasons.

What reasons, Dad? I look at Martha and want to cry. Shes wonderfulalmost too good. But shes I cant put ittimid, miserable even. Shes scared of everyone and everything! Why?

You know, your granny was besotted with worry over Martha. It went beyond reasonwalked her to school by the hand until nearly the end. Why? I suppose she thought something terrible would happen to her. Martha was hard won, you knowyour gran nearly lost her before she was born. I remember. Gran was in bed for months, and during that time, Peter and I became a team, two men anxiously waiting for the woman we loved to get better. Peter did everythingsoups, pomegranate juice, fresh liver from the butchers at dawn. It was then I realised how much he loved her and how a man ought to be. He was never much for words, your grandad. You dont remember him, which is a pity.

I dontbut I do remember the rocking horse he made me.

Indeed. He put it together while we waited for you. Always clever with his hands. He was so unwell at the timeworked through it regardless, eager to finish in time.

Wheres the rocking horse now?

Up in the loft. Ill fetch it down for the grandchildren one day.

Oh, Dad!

What? Dont you plan to make me a grandad one day?

Not for ages!

Phew, thank goodness for that!

Dad!

What did I say now?

George batted away her playful scolding and breathed a sigh of relief. There would always be more questions, and he wasnt ready for half the answers.

Their family had always been complicated. When Martha was little, she called their home a paper house.

Why a paper house, Martha? George, lanky and perpetually distracted at sixteen, still made time for his little sister. Martha amused him.

Because its like your paper tulip, Martha replied, turning the creased flower in her small handsa treasure her brother had folded for her. See how pretty? But what if

She laid the flower on her palm and brought her other hand down in a clap.

Whyd you do that? George grinned in surprise at the bang.

Its empty inside, see? Please make me another!

Youll squash it as well?

No. Ill show you something.

She fetched colourful putty from her craft box and carefully packed it through the little hole at the base of the new paper tulip. It took ages, but Martha was determined.

See? Now it cant be crushed. Its still paperbut its strong. Our house isnt; it needs something inside.

George marvelled at his sisters understanding of their home, turning the toughened tulip in his hands. The craft was one a girl from school had taught himAlice, always fiddling in lessons.

My fingers itch if Im not doing something while I think, Alice would say, folding her origami menagerie, never missing a question in class.

George collected Alices creations to bring home to Martha, who would examine every new paper marvel with wonder.

How does she do it?

Would you like her to show you?

Yes, please!

George would then petition their mother to let him take Martha to the park, never daring to bring Alice home; he knew his mother would never allow it.

Mrs. Margaret, George and Marthas mother, could be sternstiflingly so. George justified it for a while; after all, she was simply frightened for her children.

George, you must take charge of your future! No one owes you anything! Ive done my bitgiven birth, brought you up. Now its down to you. I have Martha to worry about. And dont pin your hopes on Peter. Hes not your father, only your stepfather.

George never argued. Deep down, he knew Peter would be there in a pinch. He hadnt called him stepfather for years. He was Dad, this reticent, rugged man.

George knew if Peter heard Margarets lectures, hed nip them in the bud. Peter held family above all and strove to make it right for everyone.

But George realised early that right meant different things to different people. Peter favoured spoiling the children; Margaret, strictness and above all, fear.

Margarets worries overflowedshe feared for her children twenty-five hours a day, always adding just in case. This odd phrase echoed through Georges childhood and became part of daily life when Martha was born.

What if someone upsets Martha? she would say of teachers, school friendsnone of whom were quite good enough for her daughter. Relationships were always strictly professional; hugging a teacher was out of the question. Why should Martha need friends when she had her family? Everyone else was a danger, a stranger.

Why Margaret was so wound up about protecting them, George didnt know for years. He simply watched her dart about, changing jobs to collect Martha from school, learning to drive just to ferry her to lessonsloath to let her daughter go anywhere alone. George helped when he could, but by the time Martha was older, he had his own life.

And in Georges life there was so muchAlice, and later, a tiny daughter of their own, which shocked Margaret, who hadnt imagined shed become a grandmother before George was twenty-five.

Georgie! Why now, of all timesso unwise! What about your degree? Margaret would pace the kitchen, arms wrapped around herself, her shoulders trembling as always when she was upset.

Mum, Im not a child. Im responsible for what I do. Alice is expecting my babyour baby. Do you see?

But you could have been careful! And even now its not too late to

Stop, Mum. If you say what youre about to say, I wont be able to forgive it. Ive heard enough. But Ill chalk it up to shock, and let you think over what Ive said.

George left the kitchen, found Martha to say goodbye, and finally paid a visit to Peter.

Peter had been terribly ill for six months now. He stayed quiet, not wishing to worry Margaret or Martha, speaking only to George about how difficult it was, struggling against what he couldnt control.

That day, he pressed Georges hand a fraction too firmly and slipped him the keys to his flat. Well sort the papers this week. Your mother and sister will keep the house in the countrysidetheres to be a new development, prices going up. Theyll be fine. You and yourslive! Youre doing the right thing, son. Your child should have a proper home. A strong, safe home. You know what I mean?

I do, Dad. I do.

Peter never met little Ellie. She was born one week after Georges father leftnot a sound marking his passing.

George took up the mantle for the family, unasked, and Martha at last could breathe. She always knew George kept the little paper tulip above his desk.

Why? shed ask, fingers pressing the stiff, paper petals, feeling the old putty inside.

It keeps me from feeling hollow, Martha. Reminds me what I must do.

And whats that?

To fill your lives with something bigger than emptinessnot just for Alice and Ellie, but for you and Mum too.

Its hard, Georgie. She wont listen.

But I have to try.

Yes You can at least try Martha would sigh and change the subject.

She desperately wanted to keep the peace.

With Margaret, things were fraught. Shed closed off some deep part of herself after Peter died. Martha couldnt fathom it; George didnt need to. He remembered when their first father left, when he was just four, and the crying, the smashing of a favourite vase, the pieces collected up as she snapped at George in the corner. Those were everyday things then, and she would either scold him mercilessly or, wracked with guilt, smother him with hugs and apologies. But George, somehow, had a tough shell.

Youre thick-skinned, my boy! Untouchable! I cry, and you dont shed a tear. Dont you feel sorry for your mum? Margaret would lift her brows and only calm once shed seen his bitten lip as he fought not to cry.

George always remembered and tried to shield Martha where he could. But to do that, he would have had to live with them, which was impossibleAlice was much too delicate, like her wonderful paper creations.

Darling, I told you so! At least Ellies healthy! Poor Alice, so frail at her age, and a weak heartshe shouldnt have suffered like that. But youve your work, your babyoh, how much rests on the right choice in life

George would grit his teeth and reply, Mum, stop! Well fall out!

Dont say that, darlingI only speak my mind, you know I always have.

Always George would collect his daughter after a weekend with her grandmother and leave for home, forgetting, on such days, to ask his sister after her own troubles.

But Martha never complained. She took after her fatherquiet, serious, open just to her closest kin.

Even so, her relationship with Margaret was delicate as glass. Affection and trust both balanced on the thinest of iceone wrong move, and shed plunge into the cold void of loneliness.

Alice passed away five years after Ellie was born. One morning, she simply didnt wake up. George, getting ready for work, careful not to stir her, stopped in his tracks, tea slopping from his mug and startling the cat, who dashed off. In that split second in the chilly kitchen, George knew. The world was silent, and a single thought hammered in his mind.

Ellie!

Step by step, he crossed to the nursery. Ellies toy tomcat, her constant, lay on the pillow. That night, shed stayed at her grandmothers; George had dropped her off after collecting her from pre-school, leaving the toy behind. Gripping its velvety ear, George howled like a wounded animal, desperate to muffle his pain.

How long he crouched there, he would never remember. In time, the darkness ebbed, and he managed to stand, enter the kitchen, and ring his mother.

Mum? Can you keep Ellie a bit longer? Yes, I know you have work. Its important. Ill call later

George remembered little of the two months that followed. He went through the motionscooked, looked after his daughter, and Ellie clung tight, understanding more than she could say, never asking about her mother. At first, George didnt notice. Then, one day, he saw her sneak into the locked bedroom, curl up on the floor with her tomcat, and speak to the photograph of Alice by the bedside. Thats when he realised Ellie knew.

He left her be. When Ellie came out, George swept her up and, burying his face in her untidy braids, asked gently, Who told you?

Grandma. She said I had to be gentle with you, and not talk about Mum because itd hurt you.

He hugged Ellie so tightly she squeaked, then apologised.

Im sorry, little one. You can always talk to me about Mum. Dont listen to anyone elseonly me, you understand?

From the way Ellie burst out sobbing, he understood what his neglect had cost her. He cursed himself, and fumed at his mother for failing to grasp things so simple and vital.

But his anger turned to fury the following night, after a late-night visit from Martha.

Hed settled Ellie to sleep and sat in the dark kitchen, stroking the cat and staring at the black window. Sleep never came. He rested on an inflatable mattress in Ellies room nowsomething had to change, either the flat or life itself.

He heard a soft knock only because the house was silent. Later, he shuddered to think what might have happened had Martha not found the courage to knock that night.

Soaked through, her hair plastered to her face by the endless November rain, Martha stepped inside and hugged him fiercely, just as he had his own daughter earlier.

Martha! Whats happened?

It hurts Martha swayed and George caught her, realising some disaster had struck.

An ambulance came half an hour later; she slept soundly on the childs mattress, unable even to explain.

George pieced it together the next morning when he saw bruises on her arms.

Whats this?

Though she wore Georges oversized t-shirt, she tried to pull the sleeves down to hide the dark marks.

Martha?

I dont want to talk about it, George.

I understand. But you must, Martha, or I cant help. I need to know.

Her big blue eyes filled with tears.

It was Mum? he finally forced himself to ask, heart sinking.

Martha nodded and clutched his hands.

Dont make me go back. Not now. Im scared, George

George comforted her, mind racing. If he exploded at Margaret, it would solve nothing. If Margaret had at last crossed a line, it meant she felt Martha was the last thing that truly belonged to her.

Just tell me what happened. Well work it out. Martha, I promise Ill never let you suffer again. You believe me, dont you?

Martha hesitated, then nodded. She sat up very straight, her jaw set just like their fathers, making George shiverhe could not let Peter down.

Mum found out about Max. Remember him?

That shaggy-haired lad? George pushed a mug of tea and a sandwich towards her. Eat!

I cant. Later. Youre the shaggy one! Yes, him. It wasnt anything serious, I swear, George! We went to the cinema, walked in the park in the day! He didnt even try to kiss me.

Martha, keep your voice down. I believe you. Tell me what happened with Mum.

She yelled at me! Shook me and yelled she said things I couldnt repeat Whyd she do this? What did I do wrong? I always listened to her! Always! I know its not my time for romance yet. But she shouted Id end up saddled with a baby like you Sorry! I shouldnt repeat it, but am I what she said? Cant even keep my mouth shut!

Martha wept, helpless and bitter, and for once, George was lost for words.

The answer came. Martha looked so much like Ellie, George simply scooped her up, and sat her across his knees, holding her as he would his daughter.

Well flood the kitchen if you carry on! Dont cry, lovenobody will ever hurt you again, not on my watch!

Her blue eyes fixed on him, and he said it again, firmer, Nobody! Not even Mum. I promised Dad. Do you think Id break it?

Martha shook her head, hiccuping.

Good. A man must keep his word. Will you watch Ellie for a bit? Shell wake soon. Feed her whatever you like, Ill go to Mums now.

Dont Martha leapt up.

I must, George sat her firmly back down and gave her half-eaten sandwich. Finish that, and freshen up! Dont scare the child.

The conversation with Margaret went badly. She shouted, demanded Martha back, then switched to pleading, begging George to give her life back. He waited for her to calm.

Mum, Marthas staying with me.

Warding off her rant with a gesture, he continued, She needs peaceand so do you.

But, George! She has school! Exams! Terms end!

Mum, listen to yourself. What about her? You didnt even look for her all night! What if she hadnt come to mine?

I thought she was at home!

In your need for control, youve stopped seeing us as people! Maybe you never did. Did it cross your mind we arent dolls but living souls?

Nonsense, George!

When did you last speak to me as a mother, not a manager? Did you ask how I was since Alice died? How Im coping? You help with Ellie, and Im gratefulbut you talk to us like were staff. Its the same with Martha. Were your children, not employees! Youre a marvellous boss, they say, but as a motherlets be frank, only I can judge and youre terrible! Even now, when Marthas crying on the other side of the city, youre only worried about her next exam and more trophies. Enough! I know what youll sayabout the future, about hard work. Martha has me. Let her get failing grades! Ill pay for her to go to vet schooldid you know she wants that? No? Well, now you do. Not a doctorshe wants to be a vet. And she will be. I promise you!

You cant! Thats not your choice

And what gives you the right to break her spirit? George calmed. In front of him stood not a tigress but a dishevelled, bewildered woman. She shouted, but for the first time in years, there was no certainty in that shout.

George took her shoulders and looked her straight in the eye.

Mum, do you want to end up alone? This is not a threat, just the truth. If you go on this way, youll lose us both. Martha will always have me. But what about you? Think it over.

He kissed her forehead, left the flat, and slumped on the familiar stairs.

How many times had he run up or down those steps? Too many to count, sometimes bounding with joy, sometimes dragging his feet. Today, though, he could barely move. He just sat, frozen in that instant, and wondered how many steps made up a single flight.

Years spent running up and down, not knowing. Wasnt it strange?

A ringtone brought him back. He got up, counted the steps, nodded to himself, and headed home. He knew what to do.

His approach worked. Margaret couldnt bear the separation long. Within days, she visited and tried to reconcile with Marthathough it was a slow process.

Martha couldnt forgive lightly. It took five years before their relationship resembled anything like balancea lurching seesaw with no clear direction.

Margaret tried, for now she understood: her children were grown. They wouldnt sit waiting for her to come to her senses. The refrain in her heart now: Theyre togetherwhere am I?

Martha got her degree, took a job at a good veterinary clinic. Ellie roared with laughter to see her father sigh when Martha arrived with yet another patient.

Martha! Thats a python!

So? Georgie, look how charming he is! Feel how warm! Go ongive him a stroke! Yessee? Not so scary. Its only for a bit, until his owner comes back. Poor George is lonely on his own!

He has a name?

Of course!

Ellie found this all hilarious, threatening to follow in her aunts footsteps.

Not if I can help it! George exclaimed in mock horror.

Work, home, awkward visits with MargaretMartha went through the motions. Ellie would beg her father to find Martha a match amongst his friends, but nothing came of it.

And thenone day:

Id like you to meet my boyfriend, Martha said, bashfully. And promiseno laughing!

Martha, if anything, its enough to make me weep! Ellie threw an arm about her aunt.

Ellies missing trainer, chewed yesterday by Marthas last patient, was discovered under the bed in Georges room. Ellie shoved the battered shoe on and dashed to the hallway.

Im ready!

Are you? Well, we neednt rush. Martha wont forgive us being late anyway, George shrugged at her.

Oh, Dad! Stop the drama! We have half an hour!

As they walked up the avenue to the park, they spotted the couple from afar.

Dad, is that him? The hairy one?

Ellies stage-whisper was so loud Martha glared and wagged her finger.

Max.

George.

Handshake, a smile, a nod.

Ellie.

The hairy one! Max laughed, looking at his fiancée. Dont scowl, Marthasmile! Thats right. I want you always to smile! Cor! Great trainers! I want some just like that!

Exchanging glances, George and Ellie burst out laughing. Only then did Ellie notice the change in her aunts eyesno longer hard steel but silver-bright and full of life. It was such a transformation Ellie could only stare in wonder, clapping delightedly, much to Maxs confusion.

What? Were all a bit odd in this familyget used to it!

Thats a relief! Now I know Ill fit right in with your team? Or is that not the word?

Family, Maxfamily! Ellie winked at Martha, slipping her arm through her fathers.