‘And, Dottie … didn’t mind? You coming out to see me?’
‘Actually, it was her idea.’
Suddenly, it’s like a weight she’s been carrying for years is lifted from her shoulders. Dottie’s come around? Forgiven me for whatever it is she felt I did to her?
She takes hold of George’s arm. ‘That’s wonderful, George. You have no idea how happy that makes me. Come in. You must tell me everything. We have so much to catch up on.’
***
Ellie reaches for the teapot. ‘More tea, George?’
George shakes his head. ‘Thank you. I’m fine.’
His face is fuller, Ellie notes, and tired. Dark marks like thumbprints dent the skin under his glasses, and his black hair, still carefully combed and shiny with brilliantine, is thinning, and grey threads the hair at his temples.
‘It’s lovely to see you, George. Though, it’s such a surprise. Why didn’t you write to say you were coming?’
‘I know.’ He takes off his glasses and, removing his handkerchief from his trouser pocket, rubs the lenses. He puts the glasses back on and looks back at Ellie.
‘I need to talk to you about something.’
‘Is it about the cheques?’ She reaches over and squeezes his arm. ‘It’s fine. It really was presumptuous of me to ask you for money after Thomas died, and you’ve been so good. The money got me on my feet, though the past few months have been … challenging. But, I’ll manage. Don’t worry at all about that.’
She looks down at her teacup, at the tea leaves clumping on the bottom of the china cup. ‘I had no one else to turn to after Thomas died. You don’t know what it was like. I would have gone back to England, if I could have.’ She presses her lips together into a sad smile. ‘But that was impossible.’
Shifting in the wooden chair, George pulls his arm away. He rubs his forehead and clears his throat. ‘I was happy to do it, Ellie. I was … I was so pleased you came to me. I’ve always … I’ve always loved you. You have to know that.’
‘George—’
‘No, please. Let me say what I’ve come here to say.’
Ellie sits back in her chair, surprised by the note of urgency in his voice. ‘All right.’
‘The money stopped because Dottie found out about it.’
Ellie holds her hand up to her mouth. ‘She didn’t know? You didn’t tell her? Oh, George.’
‘I couldn’t. Dottie’s changed a great deal since you last knew her. She’s … I was careless. She found one of your letters on my desk. She didn’t take it well.’
‘But you said it was her idea for you to come here.’
He leans his elbows on the table and presses his fingers into his forehead. ‘You know she can’t have children?’
Ellie shakes her head. ‘No, I didn’t know. I’m sorry, George. But, there’s been no communication. She’s never answered any of my letters or cards. The only time I heard from her was a short telegram when Poppy died. And you never said anything, either, in your letters, though I did wonder why you never mentioned the twins to me over all those years.’
‘Nothing would make her happier than to have a child.’
‘I’m so sorry, George. If only there were something I could do.’
George looks over at Ellie. ‘There is, Ellie.’
***
Emmett stands behind the screen door. He watches his mother bury her face in her hands. Watches the man with the shiny hair reach over to touch his mother’s shoulder. Watches her bat the hand away.
Slipping off his rubber boots, he pads down the porch steps, careful to avoid the creaking step. When he reaches the dirt road at the bottom of the hill, he stuffs his feet back into the boots and heads back down to Rod Fizzard’s. Just last month there’d been a notice up for fisherman up in the Change Islands. He was too late for that, but he’d keep an eye out. The government was finally throwing some money at the outports. It wouldn’t be long before something else’d come along. When it did, he’d take that money from Ottawa. It might take him a dozen years or so fishing cod, but he didn’t need much to live. He’d save every penny he could. Then he’d buy the boat-building business from Rod Fizzard and he’d provide for his mother. He’d never let her be brought this low again. One day he’d pay back the man with the shiny hair. Every cent. He’d save his mother’s immortal soul, free her from this black debt, and set her free.
Chapter 77
Tippy’s Tickle – 17 September 2011
‘What did my father mean when he said you could do something?’
Ellie reaches out a thin hand, the veins like blue rivers against the white, age-mottled skin. ‘I’m your mother, Sophie.’
Sophie pulls her hand away. ‘Dottie was my mother.’
‘Yes, of course, she was. She raised you and loved you. But I gave birth to you.’
Sophie steps away from the bed and stares at the old woman, her mind a rollercoaster of confusion. ‘How can you be my mother? That’s impossible. I was born in England.’
‘Yes, you were born in Peterborough, England, just like your birth certificate says. George and I had to go to a hospital where no one would know me. He said I was Dottie. I had her identity papers. He paid for me to fly back to England for the birth. Emmy had gone up to Fogo to join a fishing crew for a few months before I started showing and I left Winny with Agnes. I told her Dottie was ill, and I needed to be with her for a while. I told her George was buying the aeroplane tickets for me.’
‘Why on earth did you do such a thing?’
‘I did it for Emmy’s and Winny’s futures. I did it because I thought it might heal the terrible rift between
