Chapter 31
For a second day, I’ve been walking around grinning. Last night, once Stefano and Luisa had left and the kids were in bed, Theo and I ran upstairs to the cottage—tripping over some of the steps—and made love. Once again, I felt complete. I felt safe.
But today I’m feeling something else—something else that surprises me: I’m feeling brave enough to have a look and see if my mum did write to Wilf.
When Theo takes the kids to visit the kittens, I pretend I need to stay behind to do jobs. I creep through the house and close the door to the cottage, to shut out the banging that’s coming from the builders. I reach under the bed, pull out the second box of letters and start sifting through it.
After a few minutes, I recognize Mum’s handwriting.
Fuck!
I flip over the letter and read the name Suzanne Webb. My pulse tripping, I see the address she’s given isn’t that of our old house but the shop where she used to work. Why would she do that?
I tug in an unsteady breath.
I’m about to open the letter when I remember there may be others—and I want to make sure I read them in the right order.
I continue sifting through the pile and, sure enough, there is another letter. Again, Mum’s given her work address. So she mustn’t have wanted Dad to know she was writing to Wilf.
I continue looking but there isn’t a third.
I lay the two letters on the bed next to each other. I read the postmarks and one is dated March 1989, the other a month later. Mum died on 5 May.
My heartbeat’s in my ears.
Am I brave enough to do this?
But even as I ask myself the question, I know I have no choice.
Dear Uncle Wilf,
This is your niece, Suzanne. I know this must be coming out of the blue but I found a letter you wrote to your mum and dad explaining where you were if they wanted to find you and that’s how I got your address.
I came across it a few years back when I were was clearing out the house after my mum died.
Actually, do you know she died—your sister Kathleen?
Did anyone tell you? I’m sorry if that’s a shock.
Come to think of it, all the family’s dead now, except me and our Julie.
But you must know about your mum and dad?
Flamin eck, I’m making a right mess of this already.
I’m sorry I’m a crap writer. I might as well get that out of the way now.
I should probably have worked harder at school rather than messing about with the lads.
Although I’m not sure I should be admitting that to a teacher. You are still a teacher, aren’t you?
Anyway, I only found one letter so I’m assuming no one wrote back to you.
I’m sorry, Uncle Wilf. Now that I think about it, my granddad were was a bit of a dick.
Let’s be honest, so was my dad. And he were was a shit husband.
My mum was scared of him because he was always getting pissed up in the pub and would come home and knock her about.
Not that I’m trying to make excuses for her not sticking up for you.
I don’t think there’s any excuse for disowning your family and I’m sorry they all gave you such a shit time.
In your letter you said you’d never change and you were happy with the love of your life and I think that’s mega.
And I know you must have been really hurt by what happened and having to move a long way away but I also think it’s dead romantic you got your happy ending.
Anyway, I’m glad I found out what happened because nobody told me owt anything at the time and they all just acted like you didn’t exist. I remember once I asked my granddad where you’d gone and he belted me so I never mentioned it again.
I know I were was only young when you left but I really loved you and I used to love sitting on your knee when you read me stories and I loved it when you brought me sweets and took me to the pictures.
You took me to see my first film, South Pacific, when I was only little.
Do you remember? Anyway, for a while I thought you’d just dumped me and forgotten all about me and I must have done summat something wrong.
But you know what kids are like, they only think about themselves.
By the way, I hope you don’t think I’m being selfish by writing to you because you said in your letter you didn’t want me and our Julie to know.
I should say I haven’t told her. We’re very close but very different.
Our Julie’s sensible and has a posh job in an office, she were was never one to have her head turned by the lads, not like me.
Anyway, if you want nowt nothing to do with me I’ll understand.
I just want you to know that the way you are doesn’t bother me.
I don’t think anyone should be told they’re a bad person because of who they love.
Mind you, I would say that because that’s kind of the reason I’m writing to you.
This isn’t easy to admit, Uncle Wilf, but I’m having an affair.
I’ve been seeing this bloke called Gary for about a year now and it’s all built up and become this big thing and I don’t know what to do about it.
Sorry, I should probably tell you about my husband first. Flamin eck, I really am making a mess of this.
My husband’s name is Martin but everyone calls him Mart and I met him when I were was 18 and he’s a mechanic which isn’t very exciting but he was dead fit and everyone said he was Manchester’s answer to Warren Beatty.
All the girls fancied him and I wanted him for myself so they’d all be jealous.
I sometimes wonder if part of the problem was I didn’t really know what to do with myself after school.
I was always the pretty one and I was rose queen and everything and people used to say I should be a model and I did once get chatted up by this bloke who said he was an agent in London and he gave me a card with his number on it but my dad went berserk when he found out and ripped the card up and threw it away.
I told you he was a dick. I work in a women’s clothes shop now and it’s alright because the clothes are nice and me and the girls have a laugh, especially when we go out for drinks.
But when I first left school I was working in this crap shop selling old lady clothes with this boss who was a right bitch and I hated it.
I think that may be one of the reasons why I got married when I were was 20, I just wanted something else in my life, something more exciting and Mart was nice and I did think I loved him.
The problem was, it all got dead boring dead quickly.
I suddenly had all this housework and cooking to do and I can’t cook, honestly I could burn water.
I’m crap at ironing too. And then I got up the duff and our Adam were was born and he’s going to be 12 this August and he’s gorgeous and dead clever and does really well at school and I love him to bits.
And right from the start I loved having a baby and he was so cute but Mart never wanted to do anything exciting anymore, he just wanted to stay in.
And he never kissed me or told me I looked nice except when he’d had a few pints and he wasn’t romantic or passionate and I just felt like I was invisible.
Then last year I was on this works do in town and I met this mega fit bloke called Gary.
All the girls thought he looked like Michael Douglas and I’ve always fancied Michael Douglas, especially in that film Fatal Attraction.
And he chatted me up and told me I looked nice and started buying me drinks and I felt like a film star.
The funny thing was, I’d been chatted up by blokes before when I were was out with the girls but I’d never done anything about it because I wasn’t looking for it—I’m not a slag or anything.
But for some reason it was different with Gary.
We sneaked off and before I knew it he were was kissing me and I liked it and then he came into the shop a few days later and pretended to be buying summat something for his sister and asked if he could take me out.
He took me to this Italian restaurant and it was dead posh and I felt like a film star again and thought he must really like me.
A few hours later, he booked us a room in this hotel and we ended up in bed together and it was mega and afterwards I just couldn’t control myself.
I knew I was in love with him and he always says he loves me and I know some people think it’s wrong what we’re doing but I don’t think it makes me a bad person because how can it if it feels right?
I think our Julie can tell summat’s something’s going on, it’s probably a woman thing, although I’ve denied everything.
And I do feel guilty about cheating on Mart but I can’t help it if I don’t love him anymore and anyway he hasn’t told me he loves me for years so maybe he doesn’t and that makes the two of us.
And I feel dead guilty about lying to Adam, although I keep telling myself I’m only lying to protect him and this doesn’t change how I feel about him which it doesn’t because nothing would ever change that.
But at the end of the day this thing with Gary makes me happy and I just want to be happy.
I don’t know why I’m telling you all this but I think maybe all the creeping around and keeping it secret is starting to be too much and I just need to get it out of my system.
I suppose I also know you won’t think I’m a bad person because people said you were a bad person but you knew you weren’t and you were doing the right thing and look how it turned out for you.
Maybe that’s why I think you’ll be able to help and will know what I should do.
What do you think, Uncle Wilf? Should I leave Mart so I can be with Gary?
All hell would break loose but I think it would be worth it. Am I right, do you reckon?