‘What? What!’ asked Minnie.
‘Nothing. It’s your mum, she cracks me up,’ said Lee.
Hope sat back, but still held on to Minnie’s hand. ‘I will always regret not giving you a father, li’l one, because you deserved that, and … a father missed out on someone truly amazing.’ Hope was telling her truth as best she could.
‘Thanks, Mum. I’m going to need your help with this. Y’know, what about A levels ’n’ stuff …?’
‘Min, you can delay that, what’s it called … defer it, that won’t be a problem. But, hon, y’know there’s something you are forgetting about …’
‘Oh? What?’ Minnie looked concerned.
‘To do a little dance of joy! Come on! And you, Lee, it’s all your bloody fault after all …’ And with that, Hope dragged them both up and they hollered and whooped and jumped about and laughed.
Minnie was puffing. ‘God, I’d better be careful, hadn’t I? Can a baby fall out?’ she gasped when she sat down, shattered.
Hope joined her on the sofa. ‘This is going to change your lives, you know, you two, and you’ve hardly got started, but the great thing is that you’ll have tons of energy for that little—’
‘Bean,’ Minnie interjected.
‘You’re calling the baby Bean? Who are you – Gwyneth Paltrow?’
‘For now, ’til we find out exactly who she or he is. Yep, Bean.’
‘You bonkers kids. Oh Min, this is going to be amazing. You realize that I will NEVER be called “Granny”, don’t you? I’m only thirty-seven.’
‘What, then?’
‘Umm, something like Queenie or Momma or Grammy or just – Your Highness would do!’ Hope announced.
‘So it’s gonna be all right?’ said Minnie the mum.
‘It’s gonna be all right,’ said Hope the mum’s mum, ‘and the reason I know that is because us guys can get through anything if we stick together. I don’t know much, but I know that. We’re the living evidence, right?’
‘Yeah, ’s right, true dat,’ said Minnie as she walked to the kitchen. ‘Wanna cuppa?’
‘Yep. Always. Hey, Lee, you’d better tell your mum and dad too, eh? Make sure they know I’m gonna be the favourite grammy.’
Lee shuffled off to the bedroom to make the call. He wasn’t sure how the news was going to be received, and he didn’t want Minnie to overhear anything that might upset her. He knew his parents could be brusque, and they weren’t particularly baby-loving; they weren’t anything-loving really, apart from the beloved motorbike.
Minnie clattered about in the kitchen while Hope watched her every move, trying to process all this surprising new information. How was Minnie’s life going to unfold now?
‘Tell you what, Mum, I’m going to have to register properly at the doctor’s now. I know you hate all that stuff, but seriously, I need to be under their care officially. Do you think you could have a look for my birth certificate, a proper look this time? Haven’t you got a file or something …? Or p’raps we can apply for a new one if you’ve lost that one …’ and on she prattled, while a seismic shift happened to the tectonic plates inside Hope.
For this was the moment she’d prayed might never come.
For so long, Hope had avoided taking Minnie anywhere that documents might be needed. She’d managed to convince the lady on reception at the local medical practice that she’d lost the red birth record book that she’d been given when Minnie was a newborn, so they issued her with another. It was relatively easy. No birth certificate was required, and she instantly had a kind of proof that was entirely convincing. A strong foundation on which to build a long-term lie.
It was astonishing how often that little red book with all her inoculations, and measure of height, weight and development, did the job of proof of identity. On the rare occasions Hope was asked for a birth certificate, she fudged it entirely, claiming it was lost and a new one was being applied for. Or she ignored the request. She couldn’t believe how little it seemed to matter. She knew the day would come when it DID matter. Perhaps when Minnie wanted a driving licence, or to get married, or to register for national insurance …?
Hope knew a moment like this was coming, but life got in the way and distracted her from considering it too much. Plus, the thing about denial is that once you have made a conscious decision to let your mind split into two parts – your now, everyday life, and that other part that’s too tricky to allow thinking time for – it’s amazing just how easily you can normalize the crazy, secret stuff. It just sits there, being a heavy weight, yes, but an increasingly bearable, manageable heavy weight, so on you go, dealing with it, living with it, letting it be, letting it lie, letting it, letting …
Now, Minnie was slapping that letting across the face and waking it up. It’s not letting lie any more, it’s fighting to be known, this secret, it’s surfacing, gradually emerging, up and up from the depths, longing for breath. Hope could physically feel it creeping out of her.
What? Here? Now?
This evening, when Minnie had just told her something so immense? Surely not right now, she thought, trying to submerge the huge inevitability, trying to push it down and back into its old familiar cave deep inside her. It wasn’t going to go back, it was going to come up and out. It was stronger than her, this dreadful secret, and it was going to win, Hope knew that. She even knew why.
It was going to prevail, because it was, it is the TRUTH.
And the truth is king.
Hope listened to Minnie blethering on about midwives and babies and hospitals and babies
