This was Hope’s regular MO. Putting absolutely everyone else first. To anyone else, Hope was a benevolent soul, a loving mother and a generous relative. Hope harboured a different opinion of herself, of course.
Only she carried the truth, and it was present in her very bones. It was a hefty weight. She longed to unburden herself of it all, especially as the heaviness seemed to increase incrementally rather than fade. She was carrying an internal deposit box of a lie which kept being added to, not with feathers but with bricks. It was a cruel parasite that chomped away at her conscience, and gored her with its ugly horns. She hurt a lot. She was a walking bruise that no one else could see.
Hope had never considered a new relationship. How could she? She would have been bound to embark on that journey with secret, lethal luggage, as she could never tell the truth about Minnie. And she genuinely didn’t want to risk bringing any other child into the world, in case the same unthinkable horror happened again. She thanked God for the blessing that was Minnie every day; she didn’t want to push it, be greedy.
And she loved someone else.
Every single night, she thought of Isaac as she tried to sleep. He was the one person she could share it all with, and probably the one person who would understand and even possibly forgive her. Yet she had made a promise never to contact him, to let him go and have his lighter life, free of all this bulky guilt. In her abundantly true heart, she hoped he’d found all the happiness he deserved. She didn’t want to interrupt that but, boy, did she long for him as the other half of her, as her confidant and her love.
The one thing Hope never did was watch television on 1 January. She didn’t want to see any appeals about Florence. All of that uncomfortable history was kept at arm’s length. Or in a cupboard.
In a box, in a box, in a box at the back of her wardrobe were seventeen letters from Africa. From Isaac. Hope collected them from the PO box in early January each year, and diligently stored them all together, unopened, for one day …
It was the only contact from him. His birthday letters to his daughter. Hope wondered every year whether or not he would’ve remembered or even wanted to continue. She longed to read them so much. She thought about what he might be saying to Minnie. Would he be telling her about his life? Would he be asking about hers? Would he be telling her how much he still loved her? Would he be taking a huge risk and telling her all about what happened? The letters sat in the nest of boxes and they waited, one of them for each of Hope’s seventeen years, until one day … this day.
Hope’s soap opera finished, and she was having a much-enjoyed stretch when Minnie and Lee walked in from the bedroom. She could see that Minnie had been crying. ‘Hey. What’s up, Min?’
‘Umm, Mum, can I talk to you? Can we talk to you …?’
‘Always.’ Hope lifted the remote, turned the TV off and patted the sofa next to her.
‘Right,’ started Minnie, trying not to cry again, ‘well, God, I can’t believe this, it’s actually happening …’
‘You’re worrying me now …’ Hope put her hand to her mouth. Minnie grabbed her hand and held it firmly in hers.
‘I’m not completely sure how this has happened, to be honest—’
‘Aren’t you?’ Lee chipped in. ‘You’d better go back to school then!’
‘Shut up, Twat! No, I mean, of course I know how it happened, it’s just I thought we were being dead careful.’
‘Oh God.’ Hope felt her stomach lurch.
‘Mum, listen, it’ll be OK, won’t it? It’s just, me ’n’ Lee are … God … we’re having a baby.’
Hope’s mouth was agape, and it remained so for far too long. Her wide-open eyes were locked on her daughter. A kaleidoscope of memories flashed through Hope’s mind.
The dead baby in her arms.
The taken baby in her bag.
Isaac’s beautiful sad face.
Her birthdays.
Standing in front of the mirror together.
Braiding her hair.
In her uniform on her first day of school.
Her face, her music, her big wide laugh.
Her hand in Lee’s hand when she first brought him home.
And, now, her hand in his as she told her mum this huge news. Hope wanted to say something memorable and important, but instead uttered, ‘Umm. OK. That’s … big.’
‘You OK with it?’ Minnie enquired, worried.
‘You are … so young, but I suppose that if you’re planning to stick together through thick and thin, then it’ll be all right …’
‘Other than the fact that you’ve just said the most blatantly hypocritical thing I’ve ever heard, yes, we’re planning to do this together. Well, I say plan, we only just found out. The only plan is to do the right thing, that’s all I know,’ Minnie said.
‘I know it sounds hypocritical, hon, but the fact is, it’s no picnic to raise a kid on your own. Even though you ’n’ me have done it – together, just us – done it so well, I would wish for you to have an easier time, have tons of support. That’s all, darlin’.’
‘Enter the faithful boyfriend with a job and a big bag of commitment,’ Lee interjected.
‘Lee, you don’t know how happy it makes me to hear you say that, you sound like …’ Hope was tempted to say Minnie’s dad, but she stopped herself in the nick of time. ‘… such a decent dude. You ARE a lovely guy – I’m so glad she has you, glad THEY have you.
