Chapter 47
It made no sense. It was definitely my birth certificate – Yvonne Jacqueline Lambert with the correct date and place of birth – but Polly Winifred Lambert should have been listed as my mother and Bryan Edgar Lambert as my father.
Instead, the father’s name was blank and the mother was listed as Marianne Charlotte Lambert.
‘Marianne was your mother?’ Will said, his tone conveying the same shock I felt.
‘According to this, she was. I don’t get it. Why didn’t anyone tell me?’
With shaking hands, I opened out the letter, hoping it would shed some light but it was only one paragraph.
Dear Yvonne
The end is near and there’s much to explain.
I wanted to write it all down but my hands hurt and my writing is scrawly so I’ve decided to record it instead.
You’ll find my tape recorder in my bedroom.
I’m tired so I’ll be doing it in parts. I hope I manage to finish it but apologies if I don’t quite get there.
Marianne
I wanted answers but I couldn’t seem to move.
What was going on? This couldn’t be true.
If my sister was really my mother, that meant my wonderful mum was really my grandma.
I couldn’t get my head around it. My whole family had lied to me for my entire life and my entire life had been a lie. Who was I?
‘Are you okay?’ Will asked.
But I could only stare at him, wide-eyed, and shrug.
‘Do you want me to try and find the tapes?’
I nodded.
He scrambled to his feet and returned a few minutes later with a cassette tape player and a lead. I remembered Marianne listening to tapes on it when I was young.
‘There’s a tape inside,’ he said. ‘Do you want to listen to it now or back at your flat?’
‘Now,’ I whispered. I hoped Marianne had managed to record all the parts because I desperately needed answers.
Will plugged it in, rewound the cassette then pressed play before settling down on the floor beside me. It was strange hearing Marianne’s voice in the room, knowing she was no longer with us. The first part was a repeat of what she’d written in the letter.
‘I’m aiming to cover a different subject in each sitting,’ she added. ‘It’ll be a lot for you to take in all at once so you might want to listen to one part at a time. You might also want a friend with you.’
I glanced at Will and he took my hand and squeezed it.
‘Firstly, if you’re listening to this, I’m dead.
That sounds like a line from a whodunnit, but it’s true.
I’m terminally ill and I don’t want treatment.
Why would I try to prolong a life when I already think I’ve been far too long in a world I get nothing from and don’t contribute anything to?
I felt ready to go long ago, way before the cancer.
You’ve asked on several occasions if I’m all right but I batted your questions away.
You mustn’t feel even a tiny fraction of guilt for not supporting me through my final days because I didn’t want you to.
I didn’t want you to know and I didn’t want you here and that’s nothing about you.
It’s all about me. I wanted to do this alone. ’
There were a few clicks, suggesting that this had been the end of her first session. Her words were slow, the sentences punctuated by coughs and wheezing. No wonder she’d recorded it in parts when a few minutes of talking so clearly took their toll on her.
‘Do you want to continue?’ Will asked.
‘I need to know why they lied to me.’
Another click and Marianne’s husky voice returned.
‘The second thing I need to talk about is the mess. When they told me it was terminal, I assumed I didn’t have long and that’s when the build-up started.
I thought there was no point clearing up as I’d be gone in a few weeks.
I know that might sound lazy but…’ She broke off for a coughing fit.
‘But the weeks stretched into months which stretched into years and it was all too overwhelming. I’m so sorry I’ve left it all for you to deal with.
I really was going to sort it out but, lately, I haven’t had the strength to do anything.
Even this is exhausting.’ She had another coughing fit which cut off suddenly.
Will leaned over and stopped the tape. ‘Are you sure you want to do this now?’
I wasn’t sure of anything anymore. ‘One more.’
He pressed play.
‘Thirdly but probably the most important section for you. If you’ve looked at your birth certificate already, you’ll know I wasn’t really your big sister.
I don’t even know where to start explaining this one.
I can imagine how shocked and confused you are and probably really hurt too.
To understand why it was a secret, I need to tell you about your real father.
Remember how you found it hard to make friends because you couldn’t see anyone outside of school?
It was the same for me but it never bothered me.
I much preferred my own company. I’d walk for miles, happy by myself.
Most of my walks took me across Hayscroft Farm and I kept bumping into Eli Farrow’s son, Richard, and we had this instant connection.
Dad was working at the farm at the time and he told me not to bother Richard so we started meeting in an old shepherd’s hut.
It was just as friends at first, especially as he was eighteen and I was fourteen, but you can’t control who you fall in love with and we gave up fighting our feelings.
We talked about a future together, running the farm, having kids.
I never thought I’d want all of that but, with Richard, it seemed right.
‘When I told him I might be pregnant, he went white as a sheet. I thought he was going to leave me but he said it wasn’t that – it was that he’d be in big trouble because I was underage.
I was so young and na?ve. I thought it wouldn’t matter if we loved each other so I told my parents, foolishly thinking they’d be happy.
Of course they weren’t! Dad hit the roof and stormed to the farm to confront Eli and Richard.
He was gone for hours and Mum was scared he might have hurt them but he came back looking surprisingly calm.
He’d made a deal with Eli Farrow. Dad wouldn’t call the police on Richard, my parents would pretend my baby was theirs, and Eli would gift Dad a smallholding and financial support while he got it established.
Can you believe that? This was my baby – mine and Richard’s – but the deal was made without ever once asking us what we wanted.
‘Eli banished Richard, sending him to some relatives in Northumberland but his out of sight, out of mind strategy didn’t work.
Richard found his way back to me, saying he’d stand by me and we could get married.
Dad called the police and I finally realised how serious it was so I told him to go, that I didn’t love him, that I wasn’t even sure the baby was his.
I must have been convincing because he left before the police arrived.
Fortunately, Dad hadn’t told the police why he’d called them – he’d claimed a suspected robbery on the farm and, when they arrived, he and Eli said it was a false alarm, so there was never any suspicion of Richard doing anything wrong.
As for me, without Richard in my life, there didn’t seem any point going against the deal.
There didn’t seem any point going for walks when I knew I wouldn’t bump into Richard.
There didn’t seem any point in anything. ’
Even though her voice was weak from her illness, there was no mistaking the pain as she’d relived her story. She’d lost the love of her life and had needed to lie to protect him, push him away, make him think she didn’t care and it had been too much for her. She’d given up. She’d been broken.
I leaned over and pressed the stop button. ‘I’ve heard enough for now. Will you take me home, please?’
Will helped me to my feet and wrapped his arms around me. I clung onto him, needing his warmth on what had just become a very cold day.