Love in a Letter by Melony Gallant

Would a segment about finding your missing twin lead you to find a missing memory? Would you go on a journey to decipher the well kept secrets hidden underneath a blanket of photographs and memories?

Mary-Ellen finds a stack of old papers in a suitcase filled with her unknown mother’s belongings. But these aren’t just any ordinary papers. They are love letters of years ago. It takes Mary-Ellen on a long quest to find out what really happened to the anonymous person who once gave birth to her and on the way she meets and changes the lives of all the people once touched by her mother. Will she find what she’s looking for, or are the secret too well hidden even for her?

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writerâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Love in a Letter Copyright ÂŠ 2011 by Melony Gallant South Africa set on 11pt Palatino Linotype Scribd document All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this document may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and review. 1

For Mary-Ann and Haroldine Gallant

My strength and inspiration in all I do. The two persons who taught me the importance of family

Let us never forget that our love ones are lifeâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s real inspiration. -

MichĂŠlle Van Breda

Prologue Finally.

I squint my eyes as I gazed out the window. The bright morning sun replaced the darkness of the tinted window I had indulged in a minute ago.

I had drunk a huge sleeping pill the night before. The nerves had become too much for me to handle. What was I going to find? Would it be the missing piece Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve wanted my entire life? Like the piece of the puzzle of my existence would finally be replaced. And what would he be like? Would he want me? Would he be happy to see me? 1

The car came to a stop and my friend’s boyfriend parked in the spot between a bright green BMW and a little blue Uno. It was time for me to gather my luggage and enter the crowded airport. I dreaded the moment.

``Right, here we are,” he said. “Are you going to be okay? I can always ... ´´

``If I can survive in a courthouse, I can survive on my own in an airport. Besides, I know you’ve a job waiting for you! ´´ I said.

I know my independent spirit will probably be the end of me, but I’ve never been interested in becoming a damsel in distress to a man. In my line of work, I am usually the one making the last decision, and I wasn’t planning on changing that soon. I had three small bags for luggage - that including my handbag. I opened the door and the frozen air embraced my body. 2

As soon as I entered the white building, a blizzard of voices hit my ears. Around me, people were scattering to queues to buy tickets and others hurried off to catch their flights as they waved goodbye to their loved ones one last time. I couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t help but wish I could feel what they were feeling, but it made me even more excited for what was to come. Finally I would feel it!

As I took my seat in the airplane, I wondered whether this flight would help me put the past behind me, bring me a sense of understanding, or just regret and perhaps start a warpath I was not likely to succeed in.

Closing my eyes and shifting the sounds around me out of my mind, I thought about the little family trees booklet I had bought, the sudden interest I had developed in my family after a segment about a woman who had followed her bloodline and discovered her mother, who put her up for adoption, was still alive. But mostly about the letters of years agoâ&#x20AC;Ś 3

THE LETTERS After the death of both my grandparents, I had decided to sell the house they had left to me. A few possible buyers had come around now and again. I couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t help feeling a pang of sadness, I was about to sell the house I grew up in! For the first time in the twenty years I had lived there, I entered the loft. Armed with a full can of insect repellent and a flashlight, I made my way through the dust and darkness.

My grandparents had been my only family all my life. I never grew up with a mother and a father as other children did. Nevertheless, my grandma always said, with my rock solid 4

temper and strong will I had no shortage from any other person. And I agreed with her.

I had my dream job as a lawyer daily in and out of magistrate courts (Even though I get the small cases) , the huge house Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d always dreamt of owning, a high powered car worth every cent I spent on it, and a fiancĂŠ with a well paying career as the owner of a nationwide known car dealing company. I had been one of the lucky ones to find their prince in shining armour. The money of course was not a factor for me. I could care for myself.

My grandparents had spoiled me rotten, and had given me all the music lessons, toys and encouragement a girl could possibly ask for. But I still had a need for my biological parents.

I wondered about little things: like how their voices sounded, their laughs, if my mother was as much a perfectionist as I am, or if I had anything of my father. However, I never dared

to ask my grandparents these questions, for it was a sensitive subject to them.

I remember one night, after a hard day at school, my grandparents had been watching television. I went over to my granddad’s velvet chair, his favourite chair, and whispered something in his ear,

“Daddy, why did mommy leave me?”

He turned to me with a frightening facial expression I will never forget and asked,”Where did you hear such nonsense? Your mommy never left you. Is it that aunt of yours? I have the bloody mind to tell her exactly where she can put that mouth of hers!”

“Robert! You’re talking about our daughter,” my grandma corrected him.

“No, daddy,” I felt tears sting my eyes. “I just wanted to know myself,” 6

“Well, she didn’t leave you and that’s the end of it! Now go to bed it’s late.” He turned back to the television and ignored me.

I looked at my gran for some kind of comfort, but she only gave a sad sort of expression, her hands moving nervously as they did when something bothered her.

My granddad went first. He was as strong willed as I am, and very strict. He believed in structure and obedience like all policeman of his time did. Anything Avant-garde was like the devil’s seed to him.

Sometimes he scared me when his voice erupted when he was mad. Small things would upset him. But most of the times he was like a sweet teddy bear, afraid to let go of his little princess, as he often called me. He may have been tough but he was a good man. He would work his fingers to the bone for us. The day he retired, they literally had to drag him away from the station.

Grandma went from a heart attack and emotionally it had taken its toll on me. For weeks I could not get it out of my thoughts that now, I was alone. Both people who meant the world to me had gone. How was I going to survive in this world on my own?

A scatter beneath my feet interrupted my thoughts, and I jumped. In that instant the flashlight fell, disappearing into the cloud of darkness beneath me. On my knees, I searched with my open hand for where it had fallen.

“Aah!” I yelped.

Something sharp had pricked my finger. Sucking the bloody finger, I finally grabbed hold of the flashlight. Bracing myself, I switched it on. In front of me I saw a few old boxes and a broken mirror. Well, that would explain the sharp object. I examined my finger and the cut wasn’t as serious that my search had to end. At least I wasn’t one to believe in superstitions and thirteen years of bad luck shmull!

I opened the one box marked “Old Clothes” with a felted pen and indeed, it was full of old clothing of my grandmother. I immediately recognised the green-blue dress that she used to wear while gardening. I clasped it in my arms, the scent of grass still fresh.

The other box looked heavier and I was just about to open it, when I noticed a brown briefcase stashed behind it. I imagined something hidden in there, its content filled with personal belongings. As I took it out, I had another fright. This time a cockroach lay dead behind it. There was nothing hygienic about an attic!

I dusted the briefcase off, and opened its lid. I was instantly transported to another period in time. Inside were old pieces of clothing – for a too younger person to be my gran’s – and I took one out. It looked like a school dress and I searched for a label on the back: Mary-Ellen May. I immediately knew to whom it belonged to, I had been named after that very same person.

My Mother.

There were also old toys and shoes. Looking at the objects, I felt somewhat closer to my mother than I had ever been. A part of her was with me.

I was just about to close the case when I saw something sticking out underneath the clothing. As I pulled it out I noticed that it was a thick stack of papers, turned brown by age, rapped with a piece of string.

I slid off the string and when I opened the first page, I realised that it wasn’t just any ordinary papers, but letters. Was it perhaps my grandparents’ love letters of when they were still courting? I scanned the names and surprisingly it differed. It wasn’t my grandmother’s name but yet again Mary-Ellen May that was written on top.

The letters opened a need in me that I had never really owned. It was prove that I knew absolutely nothing about my parents! These letters were never shown to me, and my grandparents never even mentioned any details of my parents whatsoever.

Why? What happened that was so horrible that their memories became as dead as they were?

The Aunt The answers I’d hopefully find from my mother’s sister, aunt Marianne. She had always been a close family member and I knew I could trust her with anything. It wasn’t possible that she wouldn’t have some kind of information about my mother and father!

I packed my luggage and bought a bus ticket for the next day.

The bus station wasn’t very far away from the Motor Rental place and I rented a car and drove straight to my aunt’s house.

The house in front of me was as welcoming and familiar as always. Armed with my luggage, I walked up the stairs to knock on the door.

I had spent a lot of my school holidayâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s here. My aunt was more of a sister or an old friend than an aunt to me. She was easy to talk to and could cheer you up in a second with her wacky sense of humour. She always stayed updated with modern times and if it wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t yoga, it was kick boxing!

My aunt told me how close she and my mother were. They shared everything. She once told me about their wild teen years; sneaking out of the house to go to parties or covering for each other when one went out on dates with older boys on Sunday nights when Gran and Granddad went out with friends. To this day, my grandparents are completely unaware of their adventures!

It always made me feel lonely when she told me about their childhood together. I always wished that I could have had a sister or a brother to fight with or to laugh with and to share 13

everything with them. But my mother died when I was only a little girl, so she never got married again after my dad.

I heard music coming from inside the house, classical, romantic music. It wasn’t the type of music aunt Marianne listened to on a daily basis!

I heard footstep coming near. There was a clatter from locks on the door being unfasten.

“Elly? What are you doing here?” she asked leaning on the door. Her face softened a little but still looked surprised,

“Sorry, let me try that again. Hi babes!” she said while hugging me tightly. She smelled of expensive perfume. My aunt believed style is never cheap.

“I’m sorry to come so unannounced but ...”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I know how lonely it must be for you. With Ma not being there anymore and all,” she said 14

while walking inside, I followed her, the music becoming louder as it came closer. She was fretting with her hair.

As we entered the living room, I noticed a man nicely dressed sitting on one of the couches with an inquiring look flashed over his face. On the coffee table were two glasses of wine and finger food. Obviously, I had interrupted her date!

“Mary, meet Allen. He’s … a friend from work.” Aunt Marianne gestured towards the man as he stood up from the couch.

She never called me Mary so I knew she was nervous.

“A pleasure to meet you,” he said as he shook my hand.

“Oh! I’m sorry … I’ll come back a bit later if you’d like.” “No, no. It is fine, “he said. “We, uhm, were almost done anyway.” He turned towards her,

“We’ll talk later, okay.” He squeezed her hand and she bit her lower lip slightly.

“Again, it was nice meeting you,” he said towards me before leaving.

There was a silence for a while.

“I’m really sorry, Thompson. I didn’t mean to interrupt...”

“Nah, it’s okay. So you staying for a few days or a year?” she asked mockingly as she gestured towards the trail of luggage scattered from the doorway into the corridor.

“Hah, yeah well I get my distraught packing skills from your side of the family.” I threw her way. As she started walking towards the spare room with one of my bags, I decided to inquire a bit about the unknown man from a few minutes ago.

“So, what was this Allan guy doing here?” I asked cunningly. 16

“We were discussing work,” she said more to the wall than to me.

“You dine all your employees with wine and sugared snacks, Thompson?”

My aunt and I had a thing for Tintin and we decided to call ourselves Thompson and Thompson after the two wacky detectives.

She turned around to look at me. “Yeah, well, you should keep your nose out of other people’s private business.”

I laughed.

“I take there’s more going on there than just work, right?” I answered.

The silence confirmed my speculations.

“There,” she said after leaving my bag next to the bed. “All done, Thompson. The mission is completed.”

“Yeah,” I said sitting down on the bed next to her. “Only five more to go!”

I looked around the room. It was just as it always was. The window looked out over the well taken care of garden that my Aunt flourished on, the lilac walls were just as relaxing to the room with it’s baby blue and lilac theme. In front of me was a white door leading to my aunt’s bedroom.

My aunt was not always a single woman in her late thirties. She was married a few years ago, happily too, but their marriage hadn’t lasted long because there was an issue that always seemed to drive them apart. My aunt cannot have children. She wanted to so badly, but life isn’t always the way we want it.

Even though she couldn’t, she still hired builders and constructed a room linked to their bedroom. She bought a lot of baby clothing and toys and supplies and decorated the room, as she always wanted to. My aunt always loved decorating and she had a knack for it. Nevertheless, Brian, her husband, didn’t see it that way. He was furious with her for being so obsessive with children and a few months later, they were getting divorced.

I was mad at him for doing that to her. It wasn’t her fault that her heart was still set on having her own child. It’s any woman’s dream to have a baby, he had to understand that.

But later as I started thinking about it and listened to what my aunt had to say, it wasn’t that easy for him either. He also wanted children but didn’t want the constant reminder that he’d never get the chance to. She didn’t blame him for it and now, neither did I.

“Thompson?” I said.

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad I’m here.”

“Me too.”

THE SEARCH BEGINS The next morning I woke up to the sound of chirping birds outside. I jerked up. Where am I! I thought as I looked around the room. Then I remembered the trip to my Aunt’s and the mysterious guy, Allan.

“Good morning,” I said as I entered the kitchen.

I looked around in the petite, light green kitchen, noticing the little pink teapot with a smiling pig face on it that she bought from SHOPPER.COM. Her greatest fault was shopping! She had so many things, that she gave them away, but afterwards she always wished she had kept them. 21

“Good morning? Around here ten o’clock is way past morning,” she said, grinning. She took a plate with two grilled sandwiches out of the oven.

“Microwave these up with the sausages, will you.”

“Where are you off to?” I asked while pressing a few buttons on the microwave.

“I have to go in for a staff meeting. After that I’m yours for the whole day.”

She looked up from the pages and files she was organising in her briefcase.

“I forgot to ask you yesterday, but why this sudden pack and travel act? “I mean don’t get me wrong, I love having you here, but you wouldn’t take time off just to visit you favourite aunt, would you?”

“You mean, my only aunt!” I informed her, “Actually, I guess I’m kind of on a quest.”

I bit into a piece of sausage.

“Oh? What kind of quest would that be?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about mom, and I have a few, actually a lot of unanswered questions.”

She gave a sympathetic look and took my hand.

“Is this because of Ma and Daddy not being around anymore?”

“Sort of, I guess. I mean they would never have let me ask anything about mom while they were… alive.”

“But it’s not just that, right? You want some kind of finality. Like, to go on with your life. Almost like one of those books

where the heroine tries to put her old life behind her. To start a new. “ she looked thoughtful.

I loved it when she thought. She always bit her lip and looked like a six year old trying to figure out how to get the cookies of the shelf.

“Yeah! All my life Gran and Granddad have made my mom’s existence a sort of secret. I could never talk about her. I don’t even know what my dad was like or how they met. I know you told me about her childhood, but I still have no real clue about her.”

The letters! In all my excitement of seeing my aunt, I had completely forgotten about them.

“I’ve got something to show you!” I exclaimed and disappeared up the stairs before she could reply.

“I found these letters in the attic. They’re mom’s letters. I think they are love letters or something.” I handed her the pile.

“Mmm,” She said while examining one. “Well, I don’t know anyone named Greg. She never dated a guy named that, well, none I know of. But she never told me anything, anyway.”

“This is important information!” she said as she looked up into my gaze.

She looked uncertain for a minute, as if she was weighing whether to tell me something.

“You know, I never told you this but … I’ve always wondered about what happened to Mary-Ellen too.” She looked down at the counter,

“When she went off to University we had lost touch with each other. She started talking less to me about her life and became somewhat secretive. Then Daddy had suddenly 25

forbid me from speaking to her. He seemed mad at her. Ma didn’t want to talk about it either. Once Mary-Ellen just told me that, they didn’t agree about some of the decisions she had made at University,

“Then months later they all suddenly announced that she was married to some man she had met, Benjamin. I think I was about thirteen, fourteen. Ma and Daddy seemed happy about it, even though they had never met him and he lived miles away with her! Right after that, she announced she was dropping out! But I sensed she wasn’t happy. Only after you were born a year later she came to visit with you. He only came two or three times. She always made excuses of him being on a business trip. I mean, don’t you think that’s odd?

“And then the next we hear that your dad had died of a heart attack, just so sudden. She came to live with us again when you were three. She had her whole future in front of her. It wasn’t suppose to be that way. And then…” She snivelled and I looked up. There were tears in her eyes. She had been crying the whole time. She cleared her throat. 26

“Ghm… I’m going to be late for the meeting,” she grabbed her briefcase and headed for the door.

“Look, we’ll talk later about this, okay?”

I nodded, dumbfounded by her sudden reaction. She smiled and kissed me on my forehead.

“I’ll see you later. There’s food in the fridge if you get hungry.”

“Okay,” I waved as she drove away.

Her reaction had stunned me. She was talking and all of a sudden, she stopped. What had happened after mom moved back home? And why didn’t Aunt Marianne want to talk about it? But I had to admit she had told me more than anyone had my whole life. It all seemed a bit suspicious.

They never even really knew my dad. For all they knew Benjamin wasn’t even his real name! 27

I wanted to find out more. I was tired of having a blank for history. Whatever upset my aunt must be important. I might just be digging a hole for myself and it would probably be the best to stop right now.

But I know I can’t. My mother was a person too. And I deserve to know her. She was so beautiful! I use to look at her picture every night before going to bed when I was younger. I always thought about whether she’d be proud of me or not. Mom wanted to be a lawyer, Gran once told me. I worshipped her, almost as if she was some famous movie star. I always felt proud of myself for following in her dream, even if she never had the chance to fulfil it herself.

As I walked out into the backyard, I made a decision. I was going to trace my mother’s life back. If I ever want to go on with my life, I have to know who I really am. At least win or lose I have a life waiting for me back home.

COFFEE AND BAGELS Just as Aunt Marianne said, she was back after the staff meeting.

My Aunt owns her own catering business and she’s been running it for years. She never really liked taking orders from a superior force. Just like my mom, I thought the first time she announced her business idea. It seems to run in the family to take risks. Well, at least from the children’s side. Granddad never liked risks, he use to say that it’s only unreliable, naive people that think it necessary for risk taking, and of course, Gran being conventional, agreed. 29

“So how was the staff meeting?” I asked offering her a cup of coffee.

“It went well, thanks.” She took a sip, savouring the taste, “Mmm! That’s good.”

“Was Allan there, by any chance?” I asked sweetly.

“Oh, shut up and go get dressed.”

“Why?”

“I’m taking you out tonight. It’s the least I can do for my guest.” She thought for a while, “Besides, you know as well as I do that my cooking is terrible!”

Complete poison’s more like it!

“It’s not that bad.” I lied out of feeling.

The town was bustling as we made our way towards a little café, Minno’s.

“You’ll love their bagels, It’s like a piece of heaven!” she said as we took our seats at a table near the window side.

After ordering Aunt Marianne asked, “So how is things going with Mr. Cars?”

“Don’t call him that! He is my fiancé remember. ”

“I’m sorry. It’s just, you know that man makes my skin curl!”

“I really don’t know why you don’t like him. He’s sweet and nice and he’s really caring.”

“I don’t know, there’s just something about him that makes me feel uncomfortable. But anyway enough insults, how are you two? You know the big day isn’t far from now anymore.”

“Urggh, don’t remind me! There’s still so much to do and Mark’s mom! Well if there’s anyone that should make your skin curl it’s that woman.”

“Whoah, is she that bad?”

“Worse. She thinks it’s a presidential convention we’re having. And she wants to take care of everything. I hope when I and Mark get married she only comes around once in a decade!”

She laughed. “Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

The waitress came with our coffee and bagels.

“Thank you.” we both uttered.

“Wow, it looks delicious.”I took the sweet aroma of sugar and fresh coffee in.

“See, I told you they make the best bagels here.”

“You know, if anyone can help you with your search it’s Claire Deans.” My aunt said after a while.

“Claire Deans?” I asked. “Who is she?”

“She was probably Mary-Ellen’s best friend. They went to University together. For the holidays she would usually come visit with Mary.”

This was a new name for me. If I could talked to her, who knows what she’d reveal!

“How can I get a hold of her?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen her since that last visit.”

“Can I use your computer when we get home?”

“Yeah, sure, but why?” 33

“We’ve got some searching to do.”

We finished our coffee and bagels, talking about anything we could think of.

After spending time with Aunt Marianne, I started to realise just how lonely I had been feeling in Jo’burg. It was nice to feel that I still had some sort of family left.

When we arrived back to my Aunt’s, I immediately got on to getting a hold of Claire Deans.

I set in front of my aunt’s computer and typed in: Claire Deans.

It led to a list of people with the same name on mypage.com. No one of them seem to be from South Africa.

“What about that one?” my aunt pointed at the screen.

“What, that one? No it says Claire Deans Carpenter. It couldn’t be her.”

“How do you know? Face it she might be married by now.” I clicked on it.

“Aaah!” we both squeeled.

“Look, look!” I said, “South Africa. It must be her!”

I looked at her info page.

“There’s a phone number,” my aunt said.

The phone rang for a while, but eventually someone picked up.

“Claire here.” I let out my breath. It was her!

“Hi, Mrs. Deans…”

“Oh heavens no, I haven’t been called that in centuries! It’s Claire Carpenter now.”

“Mrs. Carpenter, I’m calling about Mary-Ellen May. I want to find information about her and I was wondering if we could meet.”

“Mary-Ellen… Are you her daughter?”

“Yes. How did you guess?”

“You sound just like her. Oh, I’ve always wanted to meet you. I’d love to talk to you. Mary was a dear friend of mine. The least I can do would be to help her daughter.”

“Where do you live?”

“In Clanwilliam, Westbury.”

“Oh, I’m in Cape Town right now but would it be okay if I visit you in the following days?” 36

“No, no, not at all. I’ll just give you my address ...”

“She lives in Clanwilliam!” I said to my aunt after I hanged up.

“Oh, that’s great. Are you going to visit her?”

“Yeah.”

I couldn’t believe it.

“Ooooh,” she hugged me. “I hope you find what you’re looking for, babes.”

“I will. Thanks, you’ve really helped me a lot. There’s a lot of things I’ve found out since first arriving here,” I hugged her.

“Oh, you’re welcome. And Elly?”

“Yeah ?” 37

“You’re always welcome here, okay? Whenever you need a family, I’m always available.”

I reached out to give her a hug. I really needed to hear those words.

AN OLD FRIEND After arriving in Clanwilliam, I drove a rented car to Claire’s house. The drive was nerve-racking, yet at the same time, I was excited. It felt weird to think that the answers that I was searching for might just be right here where I was only a week ago, emptying out my grandparent’s loft. I hadn’t even thought of looking right here!

As I drove, I realised that Claire’s house was near the high school Aunt Marianne and mom went to. Gran and Granddad’s house is just a few kilometres away from here, I thought. 39

I stopped in front of the house and climbed out of the car. In front of me stood a lovely house, with an equally lovely garden to match.

“Hi!” she threw her arms around me.

She was in her late forties and very beautiful. Her blonde hair smelled like shampoo, I noticed while her arms were tightly clasp around my waist.

“Oh, sorry about that. It’s just, you look just so much like my Mary!” her eyes were beaming just like the bright smile on her painted red mouth.

It was easy to see that she was a warm, easy-smiling person.

“I do?”

“Yeah, I mean, you have her fired-up big eyes, that slightly lopsided smile. It’s almost as if she’s standing here in front of

me right now! Though the green eyes and red hair are probably your dads, right?”

After she introduced me to her husband, and two boys, we went to the backyard and sat at the outside table. The back garden was as exquisite as the front. Roses and Carnations spread everywhere.

“Mary-Ellen and I were very close,” she said. “We use to do everything together. Cookie?”

“No thanks.”

“We almost never fought. You see, I met Mary at the University of Rhodes in Grahamstown. I grew up there so it was the nearest University for me. But not for Mary, she came from Clanwilliam. I studied teaching and she studied law,

“It’s quite a coincidence how we met. I worked at the university’s pub for the students. Somehow she, Miss butterfingers herself, got a job there too. I was the unlucky 41

one who had to train her. Oh, it took weeks to finally get her to know everything. But it was also the most fun I had on the job. You mother was never a burden, but always a blessing. But then later we lost touch.”

“Why?”

“She met this wonderful, completely attractive guy and he became friends with us. They were madly in love. Anyone could see that. But then the worst happen. And maybe also the most wonderful thing happened. She got pregnant,”

What? I couldn’t believe it.

“With who?”

“With another friend of ours. Benjamin.”

“He’s my father. She married him.”

“She did? I’m glad to hear that, 42

“I was so mad at her. For doing that to the poor guy. The guy she met really liked her. I mean, she never showed she liked Benjamin at all. We were all just friends...”

She paused.

“And I was mostly mad at her because she... Ben was suppose to be mine. I loved him.”

She laughed.

“Though, of course he never noticed it at all.”

“What happened after she got pregnant?”

“She pulled out of University and went home. I never saw her or Ben ever again after that. Ben moved to Pretoria and Greg he moved to Cape Town.”

“Did you say Greg?” 43

“Uhm, yes. Why?”

“I,” I took the letters out of my handbag. “ I found these letters. They were written to my mother. By Greg.”

“Let me see that.”

I gave it to her.

“They are love letters,” I said.

She paged through a couple of the letters.

“I can’t believe it.”

“What?”

“When were you born?”

“ Twentieth November 1986.” 44

“I thought so. She found out she was pregnant in January of 1986. When did she marry your dad?”

“The same year. Why are you asking this?”

“Because some of these letters were written in January 1987. How could Mary have contacted Greg if she was married to your father by then?”

“You don’t think she was cheating on him, do you?” I whispered-asked.

“Maybe he was still writing her, not the other way around. Here, listen to this,” she read the letter.

“Dear Mary-Ellen, I miss you so much. When can I see you again? I know you told me that it would be best if we would just go our separate ways. That it is what you need to do for your parent’s sake. But frankly I don’t want what you need! If I could just go up to your parents and talk to them. Just tell 45

them that we are in love, that I’d take care of you. I have offered to marry you, Mary, but you turned it down. I need you in my life more now after…” her voice trailed of, her eyes buried into the wrinkled piece of paper.

“What’s wrong? What does it say?” I asked.

“I don’t think this is really what you want to hear. He says, ‘ I need you in my life more now after we lost our baby!” she gave me a horrified look,

“ I wish so much she had survived. She would have been two months old now. I wanted to have a child with you so much. I don’t want you to keep blaming yourself for it, El. It wasn’t your fault. And no El, I still love you even though it happened. Maybe I love you even more. Knowing I could have lost you too, it drives me mad!

“But your father just will not see how desperately we need each other. I never wanted to ask this of you but there is no other option. Mary, we can start our own life, with or without 46

your parents being included. Think about it, please. Love, Greg.’ ”

“This doesn’t make sense. She couldn’t have been pregnant twice! How is this possible?”

“It looks like you... Greg is your father. “

STUCK After I left Claire Deans’ home, I felt more confuse than ever before.

Instead of finding insight in the matter, the trip had led me to a crossroad. I wondered whether I should inform my aunt about the news but thought better. I couldn’t tell her before I knew for certain.

First, I have to find out about this Greg. I took a cab to my Grandparent’s house. My first stop was the attic. I was on a desperate quest to find any more clues. Anything!

I opened box after box but found nothing that belonged to the year of 1986 and 1987, only stuff that belonged to my gran or granddad. I slid to the floor, tired and puzzled.

As I passed the living room, I noticed the little book on family trees I had bought laying on the coffee table. What a help that had been, I thought. I picked it up and threw it on the floor as I entered the kitchen.

I felt tired of searching. It hadn’t been as easy as I thought it would be. The things I had found out so far hadn’t brought me any bit closer to her, but rather further apart. What kind of person was she? What kind of person would lie like that? Was everything a lie? Perhaps she hadn’t even had a clue about which man was my father at all herself!

I took out the wrapped kettle in one of the boxes and plugged it in. I hadn’t eaten anything since my visit to Claire, and could barely swallow the cookies she offered me after hearing the news. I sat at the table and looked at the letters. Why had I gone searching for something in the first place? I must have 49

thought that I’d find unpleasant stuff. The past always carries its secrets. The picture I had painted about my mother was way off. Grandad was rightfully strict. She was definitely not as mature as I thought!

I opened one letter from 1986, the year she assumingly married my father who turned out to be not my father. I couldn’t help but feel cheated.

As I read the letters one by one, I noticed how much they must have loved each other. In almost everyone he tells her how beautiful she is and how much he loves her. Then there was the issue with Granddad.

I never knew he had such a hold on her life. In one letter he mentions how Granddad had chased him away, telling him that he’d kill him if he ever came near his daughter again. In another, he exclaimed how mad he was about Granddad’s shame in his daughter, enough to even tell her that she wasn’t his daughter anymore. She had to hide the whole relationship from him! 50

They hadn’t planned the pregnancy and even though they both knew that it was a big mistake he was still so excited about it. He was so happy about becoming a father. He kept saying how he hoped it would be a little girl, his little girl.

It started to become slightly addictive. I felt that I had to find out more. I sat there and read letter for letter, my hunger long forgotten. And as I read, I knew in my heart I had to find him! If there was a chance of finding out the truth, I had to find my father first…or at least his family. And if he was still alive, then that would mean that somewhere out there was my real father.

In his mind, there was never even a baby, just an abortion!

I unfolded one letter. The date read 12 February 1987.

“Dear Mary-Ellen,” I read out to the empty room, “I can’t wait to see you again. How are things at home? I wish you could still study. I miss our walks at the University. You have been very quiet lately, but so have I. You seemed upset in 51

your letter. You would never believe what I did a few days ago. I was walking pass a small shop, when I noticed a couple trying out rings inside. They looked so happy, smiling eye to eye. I kept thinking of you and how badly I wanted us to be like that too. But the silly thing is I walked inside quite in a daze and stared at the rings. The woman behind the counter asked me if I was interested in one for a special person and I said yes. I guess I was not thinking straight but I bought you one and now as I’m writing this the ring is beside me, safely tucked into the small box I bought it in. See, it does not matter if your parents or even my parent does not want us to get married. I will do the respectable thing and ask for your hand but if they disapprove that’s that and we’ll get married without them.”

I reached out for the next letter but grabbed nothing.

There were no letters left! But it was impossible. He said he was going to ask her parents for her hand. What happened after that? Why are there no letters left? This might have been where their relationship ended. What did she write back to him? If only I could know ...

THE OLD LIFE That night while I still fixated over the letters, my Fiancé called. It was wonderful to hear his voice and yet at the same time strange. I had been so obsessed with the past that everything of my own current life felt out of place.

He wanted to know when I’d be coming home. I couldn’t give him any specific date. I had been so lost in this mystery that all time had fled me.

Knowing that I had left my responsibilities behind to go on a scavenger hunt felt awful, but I could feel that I was getting closer. 54

My grandparents loved to record moments of me growing up. They had a complete collection of vacations, birthdays, and every Christmas. I knew that my gran had stashed them way up on the top shelve of her closet since I snooped around the house one morning to find my birthday present.

I walked towards my grandparentâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s room, it still looking just the same as it had over the years. My gran was a real perfectionist. Everything was in perfect order. Her clothes are still neatly organised in the cupboard. I hadnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t had the courage to pack it up yet. I searched with my hand for the box with the videos and pulled it down with great effort.

Of course, the first four years were missing. It was only when my mother moved back that the collection had started.

Each one had a nametag with a clear description of what they recorded. As I went through them I noticed one was lying on its side underneath the others. It had no nametag and unlike the others was a very old Beta tape.

I pushed it into the Beta video machine. For the first few seconds a blank screen appeared. Then I saw a figure. It was a child of about seven or so, someone Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d only seen in pictures before. My mother was playing outside in the garden with Granddad, both of them grinning and laughing. I watched the tape until it started to rewind towards the beginning.

She looked a little like me. Even in black and white, you could see how her soft bouncing curls shined in the sun. My mother as a little girl, I thought as I switched off the television.

***

The phone call was short. I’ve kept my aunt in the dark for too long, it was about time she found out about him. I knew that it was going to be hard to tell her that my father was never really Benjamin but Greg.

“What do you mean Greg is you father? You know Benjamin is!”

“No. Mom lied. She lied about a lot of things.”

“Don’t say that! She would never lie.”

“But Claire and I ...”

“So who are you going to believe. A stranger? I was there!”

I fell quiet for a moment. It was the first time aunt Marianne had gotten mad at me like that.

“There’s another thing. Mom was talking to Greg while she was married and Greg thought the baby, I, was stillborn.” 57

There was a long stretched out silence.

My aunt sighed. “Are you sure? That she was still talking to him?”

“Yes, I’m sure,”

“Aunt Marianne, how did my mother die? You never told me that part.”

I could only hear her heavy breathing on the other side.

“I can’t talk now. I have a hot pot on the stove and it’s going to burn.”

“But you don’t ...” The phone went dead. “... cook.”

She had given me an excuse to run off. Just like that day while she was talking in the kitchen. She’s hiding something from me and I’m really tired of it. Why can’t anyone in my family be straight forward with me? 58

After the unfortunate event of our fight, I decided I had to go back to my normal life. What I knew of my mother or didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t, did not matter anymore. I have to tell myself that that part of my life is over.

I was on my way to the bus stop, about to go back to my normal life.

The whole chapter with my mother, my grandparents and Greg was about to be closed like the cold cases that can never be solved.

I opened the door of my house. The dark rooms were anything but welcoming as I dragged my luggage towards the bedroom.

Here in my house there was no one to welcome me, and nothing to care for. Just an empty well furnished house for one tiny person.

Mark and I were discussing some of the arrangements with his parents about the wedding. I wasn’t very excited about it, because just being in a conversation with his batty mother gave me a splitting headache!

“I really think you should use the string quartet Cecilia used on her wedding day,” Mark’s mother suggested. “Oh, was that a beautiful wedding! And such a lovely child. You know, Marky dated her once.”

“Mommy!”

“But for some silly reason he decided to end it,” she rolled her eyes as she picked up her cup and pouted her lips as she took a sip. She resembled a person eating sour lemons. I thought about my encounter with Mark the afternoon when we met up.

“Hey, baby.” He said and kissed me on the cheek.

“Hi, love.” I replied and hugged him. 60

“I’m so glad you’ve finally decided to come to your senses and return to the real world.”

He looked at me.

“Are you really going to wear that to meet my mother?”

“Yes, what’s wrong with it.” I looked down at my outfit. I was wearing a slim white dress with a floral pattern on it.

“Nothing, I just thought you’d rather have tried something more formal,” he paused.

“Here,” he said and hold out a rubber band.

“What’s this for?” I asked confused.

“Tie your hair, silly. It will look much better.”

I was stunned but took the hair band and tied my hair up like he said.

“My mother’s waiting in the guestroom’s gardens.”

The Robinsons have never known what it means to be poor. They both came from rich backgrounds and were use to whining and dining as they pleased.

They already decided that there was going to be two hundred and fifty guests; some expectant clients and a few business executives that could give Mark a step forward in his career. The others would be family and family friends, all wealthy and from a higher ranking.

I sat at the table like a lifeless body. A few weeks ago, I would have loved planning on my wedding. But now, everything seemed plastered on like an act.

“Mary-Ellen, I hope you have already put in your note of resignation. You know you’re not going to need that job anymore after you’ve married Marky here. Right Mark?”

“Of course. We have discussed this mother.”

“Good. It’s a woman’s place to be at home looking after the estate of the husband. And of course I’ll be expecting a baby boy next year from you two.” she gave an monotonous laugh.

I knew in my heart I wasn’t happy. That this wasn’t the man I thought I had finally found. He was suddenly coarse and dictating. Eating up every thought his so responsible mother had to share. It’s kind of weird, but I haven’t noticed it until now.

To me my family was just as important as his. So why couldn’t he see that it was okay for me to want to have them closer.

I didn’t fit into their world, not the least. It was becoming clearer to me than ever before that Mark and I were two incompatible persons.

My father was in my thoughts daily. I wondered when I’d ever meet him, how precious this time was that was wasting away. Anything can happen, so easily can someone die and then take away any chance of seeing them ever.

“Mary-Ellen!”

“What?” I was suddenly swung back into the events of my current life.

“I’m been calling your name four times, Dear. Where are your thoughts?” his mother said, “Honestly, you can be such a dreamy school girl sometimes.”

THE MAN OF THE HOUR The next day had an unexpectant change in weather and on this sunny day, I decided that I was going to clean up around the house a bit. In my bedroom some of my luggage still stood just the way I left it when I came back.

I placed one of the luggage bags on top of the bed and unlocked it.

Inside were a few clothing pieces and other necessities I had taken with.

As I unpacked, a booklet slid out from between two shirts onto the bed. It was the book about family trees. I picked it up and opened to the first page.

“ Family is one of the most important parts of a human being’s life. You cannot truly know yourself if you do not know where you come from and how you came to be. It is important to keep those who are a part of you, even unwarily, close to you and let their lives give you hope for your own.

” 66

My mother sprung to my thoughts. I don’t want to remember her as a misguided person who only made mistakes in her life and had a lot of secrets. I want to know her life story, to learn from it and remember her for who she really was.

That night the cocktail was to take place. I was preparing myself for the evening at home and brushed a few strides of makeup on my pale face. I looked in the mirror and saw the clock against the back wall. Seven thirty. I snatched up my purse and got my coat.

It was an hour into the cocktail and everyone was talking and enjoying themselves.

“You know, Elly, your wedding is definitely going to be the wedding of the year here in Joeys,” said a young woman with blonde hair.

“You’re absolutely right. There couldn’t be a more suitable and perfect couple than you two.” 67

I smiled. Mark and I do fit each other well. Maybe I was wrong about him.

“And the money you two will be making together. Prepare to become millionaires, darling,” said another snooty looking woman.

“You’re right there,” said the blonde woman. “The power and success is yours, dear.”

“Well money isn’t everything. I’m not marrying him for his assets,” I answered. The nerve of these women, implying that I was a gold-digger! “I can look after myself.”

“Well of course we know that, but doesn’t it feel good to know you’ve got a man with benefits. Fame, money, class ...”

“Not to mention his other assets.” They all cackled.

“Excuse me.” I said and made my way to another spot near the bar. 68

“Can I get you something, Ma’am?” the Barman asked.

“No thank you, I don’t drink,” I answered quickly, sounding strange to myself.

“Excuse me. Can I have your attention! Everyone,” Mark said, clinking a spoon against his whine glass. Drops of white whine spilled over and fell on the stage.

“You all know that we are gathered here tonight to celebrate my wedding that will be happening in a week’s time.

“Mary,” he turned to me. “We have had a pleasurable time together for a year and five months,”

I showed ten purple painted fingers.

“Oh, ten months. My, where did the time go?”

Everyone laughed. 69

“And now finally you are going to be my wife. I know that we will be successful together. “

“Now,” he said, “I would like to introduce you to the man in my life.”

Laughter escaped again. I did not laugh. I was confused.

“I would like you to meet my new partner Mr. Van Zyl. Mr Van Zyl, if you’d please.”

A tall man in a dark suit walked up to the stage.

One of the women near me whispered in my ear, “You never told me Mark had a new partner.”

There was nothing to tell. I didn’t even know it myself.

“Most of you probably know this man. He is internationally renowned for his motor dealing companies. 70

“Well we decided to unite our companies into one and become Right Ways Motors.”

Everyone clapped. I stood motionless as he shook the hand of the gentleman and patted him on the back.

I couldn’t hear the exchange between them. I was upset and then suddenly mad.

“So now that the speeches are done, take pleasure in a drink and enjoy the night.” They clapped.

When Mark walked past me, I quickly grabbed his arm and lead him to the corner of the room.

“I know you want some attention, honey, but I’ve got important clients waiting for me.”

“See, that’s the point. I thought this night was about us, not a business deal.”

“Of course it’s about us baby, now you’ll have to ...“

“It sure didn’t look that way. You spoke about us for a second and directly switched over to your wonderful partnership. And when were you going to tell me about that?”

“Woah, I did.”

“No you did not!”

“Well, it wouldn’t have made a difference if I did. You’d probably not have listened since you’re always acting like Nancy Drew prying about your messed up family.”

“How dare you. My family is not half as messed up as yours. Your father left your mother for a prostitute, remember.”

“That’s none of your business.”

I threw my arms in the air. Honestly, none of my business? I was going to be his wife, for goodness sake!

“Stop fooling yourself.” he said. “Your mother was a slut! She slept around and got so confused she didn’t know which one to call dad.”

“Stop it! You know nothing about my mother!” Everyone was staring at us now.

“Would you lower your voice,” he whispered between gritted teeth.

“No, I won’t, you...you...jerk! You know, I’m glad this happened. You just gave me a reason to leave you for good.”

I threw his pathetically big bloody red ring on the tasteless grey tiles.

“Keep it,” I spat out. “Red was never my colour!”

His face changed to an ugly look of shock.

“Wait, baby...”

“I’m not your baby!” I shouted.

For the first time I realised how unattractive he really was. His face scrunched up like a sun-dried peach. His thick under lip sticked out like a carpet being rolled out.

“You’ll be sorry, you tramp! You honestly think anyone would want you? I should of known you were only after my money. Mommy told me, but I didn’t listen. ”

I turned my back to him and walked out. Out of that life, I never belonged in. Out of a relationship that never existed. I’m going to sell my house, get away from this horrible city and buy a small house in a small town somewhere.

THE SHOEBOX I decided that it was time for me to pack up the lies. I drove all the way to Clanwilliam and started putting everything possible into storage. All the other stuff I sold.

I left the worst for last: my grandparentâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s bedroom.

I packed my granddadâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s things first. His pants were spotless. No jeans in site of course, he never wore jeans. I paused at his church suit. I use to sit on his lap when he wore it. If I could be that little girl again would I still sit on that lap, or would I refuse. Now that I know it changes everything.

Then I turned to my grandmotherâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s side of the closet. Inside were floral patterned dresses. I took them out one by one. I gazed at the floor of the closet. Shoeboxes filled the space. Gran kept her shoes in the original boxes she bought them in, she felt it would make them last longer. I knelt down to pick them up one by one and placed them on the bed.

I sat down on the bed next to them and opened a few. There were a pair of light pink high heels and also a silver grey pair. I stood up to continue, but ... Oomff ... I accidently tripped over a box still on the floor. I examined the damage: a scraped knee. I chuckled. When was the last time I actually scraped my knee?

I looked at the box lying on its side, the shoes spread in different directions. But then I noticed an envelope on the floor. It must have been in the box. But why? My stomach started to throb as I picked it up.

23 FEBRUARY 1987

Dear Mary Ellen I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t understand what I did wrong? Why are you ignoring me? I love you Elly and I know you know that. You shouldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t let your parents rule your heart. I know you have declined before but I must ask this again. I promise it will be the last time I do. El will you marry me? We can be happy together, start a family. I want to spend the rest of my days with you. I want to grow old with false teeth and a crooked back with you right beside me looking more beautiful than ever. I want us to meet up as soon as possible. If your answer is yes meet me at the Church near your home next Friday. We can talk their and go to your parents afterwards. Love Greg 77

Why was she ignoring him? And then it hit me; my grandmother hid this letter. My mother never got it! She probably never even knew about the meeting.

I opened the envelope to replace the letter but it didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t budge. I looked inside. It was a photograph. A young man in his late twenties was staring back at me.

He had slightly curled reddish hair and light green eyes. You could slightly see the bristles of his days old beard and he had a broad easy smiling mouth. In the distance the sun was going down and only a little bit of light lit his face.

I knew immediately he was my father. I was staring back at my own reflection. The same reddish hair and those eyes, those green eyes.

I started searching frantically for more letters or anything I could find. I opened a brown box and underneath the shoes, I saw five letters never opened. It was from Greg to my mother. 78

How could they do that to her? She never received it and probably thought he wanted nothing to do with her. Was the pathetic honour of their family really so important that they had to hide the existence of an illegitimate child? That my motherâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s happiness wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t even an issue.

I found nothing else. I sank down on the bed like a big lump. I was tired. I felt like crying but no tears wanted to escape. I wondered what would have happened if I was the one pregnant at perhaps sixteen. Would my grandparents have acted the same way. Would they also push me away like I never existed or was worthy of their love.

With sudden determination I marched over to the drawer, the one place I had not searched yet.

Underneath a pink blouse, I found a brown envelope with nothing written on it. I opened it slowly, my yearning for knowing fading.

To my love ones... I’m very sorry that I’m writing this letter to you but I see no other way. I’ve come to a crossroad and there seems to be no way out of this. I’m sick of lying, sick of destroying your lives and sick of the guilt I carry around for my sins. Mama and Daddy you have raised and nurtured me al my life but I’m afraid you have also suffocated me. You kept me away from the only man I really loved. But I know now that perhaps you were right about him after all. Dear Marianne, do not be angry with me please. I know as an older sister it’s my job to be there for you and give you advice, but I cannot give advice to someone I care so 80

much about, if I cannot even fix my own life. Always know that I love you and that Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m sorry. I love you all and thank you for you help with my beautiful Elly. Please look after her and love her as your own. Let her know that her mother and father loved her a lot and Mother remember to keep the promise of the letters. Hold it in a safe place for Elly. I know we will see each other again Love Mary-Ellen

I held the crumbled letter in my trembling hands, tears staining it in places. Emotions were making waves in my body. She talked about me. I finally heard my own mother talk about me and call me Elly. You could hear her love for me in her words. 81

Then I gazed down to the second last line: â&#x20AC;&#x153;...and Mother remember to keep the promise of the letters.â&#x20AC;?

What promise?

Inside the brown envelope was another letter sealed with tape that has turned yellow. On top of the page was written in pen : Greg.

AN E-MAIL The only thing I could do was to find out whom my mother was really married to. I went back to Johannesburg and to the Home Affairs office to find my mother’s death certificate. I left early in the morning. I knew it would probably be full at Home Affairs and I wasn’t in the mood to wait in long queues my whole day.

I entered the Home Affairs building, clutching my handbag tightly. The whole place was full of people in queues waiting for their turn to be served. It hadn’t helped to come early, it was like everyone was already there, ready to pounce like vultures.

I walked to one of the queues and prepared myself for a long wait.

A tall woman with gypsy pants and brown sandals was in front talking to the black lady serving her. She had a pile of documents with her. You could see through the thin material of the pants that she wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t wearing any underwear underneath.

In front of me was an old man probably in his seventies with trembling hands. He looked exhausted and breathed with difficulty. He must have been standing there for hours.

A couple appeared from a room at the back with papers and smiled happily. They are probably newly-weds.

I thought about what day it was and I realised with disbelief. Today was supposed to be my wedding day. I couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t believe that I forgot. I suddenly wondered what Mark and his horrid family were doing. He probably had another woman in his life already. He always teased that he had many female 84

admirers. I felt relieved to be out of that situation. It would have been the biggest mistake of my life.

My mother couldn’t stop herself from making mistakes anymore, from marrying someone she didn’t love, but at least I could stop myself from falling into the same hell-hole as she.

When it was finally my turn, I walked up to the counter.

“How can I help you, Ma’am?”

“Hi, I am looking for my mother’s death certificate.”

“What is her name?”

“Mary-Ellen. Mary-Ellen May.”

“Can I see your ID please,” she said bored. She was supporting her head with her right arm.

I opened my handbag and looked in the usual place I stored it in. I had a handy old fashion bag with a lot of pockets to put my things in. But my ID wasn’t there. I started to panic and looked frantically for the damn book.

I looked up. “I’m sorry, I seemed to have misplaced it.”

She looked annoyed and I turned back to my handbag.

“Found it!” I squeaked, “Here you go.” I said as I gave her my Identity Document. It still looked brand new and unused.

My ID photo wasn’t the best photo I’ve taken in my life, but it wasn’t as bad as the stories you hear in the movies. My hair was fastened in the photo, something I regret, and I wasn’t smiling. Only recently have they decided to allow people to smile for the photo. Unfortunately I had missed that bus.

“Okay, I’ll be back in a minute.”

She disappeared to the back. I took a deep breath. 86

When she finally returned she was holding a file.

“I found a file for a Mary-Ellen May,” She opened the file and examined it.

“She died in 1991.”

“That’s right, yes.

“It also says she died of unknown causes.”

Unknown causes? How can a person die without anyone knowing what sickness they had?

“Can you tell me who she was married to.”

“She wasn’t married, Ma’am.”

“She wasn’t?”

I couldn’t believe it.

“Therefore, she and Benjamin were never married.” I said more to myself.

“If you’re done you should probably leave. There are other people in the queue.”

She gestured to the line of people behind me. Every one of them looked as sour as the woman in front of me.

I left the building confused. Another lie yet again. When would it ever stop?

I have to find Benjamin. It’s the only way I will really know what was going on.

The next day I switched on my computer. I typed in the name. Benjamin Allen Redhard

I waited for the page to load. These days my internet connection was really slow and I felt like calling my ISP to tell them how bad it was.

I found pages for an Allen Greenwood, Benjamin Dale and Lewis Redhard but no pages for Benjamin Allen Redhard. I typed in a new search for Benjamin Redhard. The new page with quite a few websites appeared.

Benjamin Redhard. It must be him! I clicked on the website www.mypage.com.

There were three Benjaminâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s. How was I going to know which one was him?

I clicked on the first one.

A sixteen year old boy from New York appeared. I wrinkled my nose. Not him.

I clicked on the next one. A man in his twenties appeared with long blond hair. Also not him.

The third and final one. I took a deep breather. Please, please let it be him.

I opened it and there was no profile picture. I looked at the information.

Name: Benjamin Redhard Age: 57 Gender: Male Country: South Africa

It must be him! He was the appropriate age and lived in South Africa.

I clicked on the message button and typed automatically.

Dear Benjamin,

My name is Mary-Ellen and Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m from South Africa, Johannesburg. I know this letter must come as a bit sudden, but I would really like to meet you about my late mother, Mary-Ellen May. I have reason to believe you knew her long ago. If you could be so kind as to respond, we can discuss a suitable place to meet up.

Yours Faithfully

Mary-Ellen May

I hoped it wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t too formal yet too right to the point. I pressed the send button before I could make any more changes. Now I will have to wait for his response.

I was so happy that I found this man. Hopefully it will be him and I will finally get some answers.

I went on the next day but there was no answer. Day after day I waited, not knowing what was my next step in Johannesburg. I couldn’t go to work since I took the whole month off. Only the fourth day after I send the message, did I get a response.

Dear Mary-Ellen

Yes, I do know a Mary-Ellen May and I think it must be the same one you’re talking about. I’m leaving town in a few days but I’m sure we can meet. If you know where Café Monty is, we could meet there at five this Saturday.

Ben

I was ecstatic and gave a little squeal. I immediately typed a message to confirm.

My next step had been prepared for me and I was finally going to talk to someone who actually wasn’t in the dark about things. Aunt Marianne and Claire couldn’t help me, but I knew Benjamin couldn’t possibly have been in the dark about things to. It felt unreal and terrifyingly exciting.

I was going to meet him!

THE FATHER There were only a few people left in the badly lit but intimate restaurant. Around me, the aroma of fresh coffee mingled with the different voices and smells of the customers.

I glanced around nervously at everyone, trying to figure out who was Benjamin.

There was a fat man in a very small suit – a businessman perhaps – talking to a skimpy dressed blonde woman – his secretary I presume – while caressing her hand. She sucked her cheeks in as if it would make her features look more 94

sophisticated and her eye lids looked like dried out flower petals. I felt sorry for his wife alone with the kids at home.

A waiter flew by with an overfilled trey in each hand and neatly placed it in front of a family before vanishing again. The kids immediately digged in and their mother scolded them for being ill mannered.

At the back of the small room I saw a pale man hidden under a hat. He was looking just as nervously around him as I was.

A part of me hoped that he was Benjamin but another part was afraid of the strange looking man.

I slowly walked towards him.

When I reached the table, it was hard to see him, because the light was dim. He had grey hair forming at the sides and lines under his eyes.

“Excuse me, but are you perhaps Benjamin Redhard?” I asked.

He finally looked up at me, “Yes, yes I am. And you’re MaryEllen. You look like your mother. ”

“Yes I am, thank you,” I sat down. “I’m really glad to meet you. There so much I want to ask you.”

“Yes,” he sighed, “I knew someday my sins would follow up on me.”

I frowned.

He wasn’t as I expected him to be. The man in front of me was miserable, and worn out from years of worries.

“I don’t understand, what sins?”

“At the time I thought I was helping her, but instead I ruined her life.” 96

I was silent.

“She was a wonderful woman. So bright and hyper. She always smiled no matter how she felt. I want you to know I loved her dearly.”

“What happened really?” I got to the point.

“We met each other at Rhodes university in Grahamstown. Me, your mother and another friend, Claire...”

“I’ve met her.”

“You have?” he looked surprised.

“Yes. Before I came to you, I went to her.”

“How is she?” he asked curious, suddenly brightly lit at a welcoming memory of his past.

“She’s well,” I said. “You said you met each other at Grahamstown.”

“Yes. I was studying to become a history teacher. Your mother was studying law,

“We spent every day together, the three of us. Every holiday we’d go to Clanwilliam to visit Mary’s family. It was some of the happiest times of our lives. And every Friday night we’d go to the University pub where all the students hanged out. We’d eat and dance until the early morning,

“And could she dance! Your mother glided on that dance floor. I loved watching her dance,” he looked into space.

“One Friday night just like the others, your mother spotted a young man across the room. She didn’t think Claire and I noticed them looking at each other the whole night, but we did,

“Anyone could see there was a thing between them. Even I had to admit it. It was hard but I had to realise she would never look at me the way I looked at her. He joined are friendship group and the four of us did everything together.”

He stopped and his face scrunched up.

“And then it happened. It had to happen.”

“What? What happened?”

“She fell pregnant. We ... we were so shocked ... Greg and she... She went away. Back to her home town, Clanwilliam. But she still stayed in contact. She would write me letters.

“That first letter I received...I was so shocked, I just couldn’t believe it. She told me that no one was to find out that Greg was the father. That her parents felt ashamed of her having an illegitimate child. The whole community would push them away if they knew. Than she asked something of

me...I...couldn’t have said no! I owed it to her! She was my friend,

“She asked if they could use me as the father.”

“What! What do you mean use me as the father?”

He sighed and leaned forward.

“See, the plan...the plan was that she’d go away to her dad’s brother’s farm in Robertson...”

“What? My grandad doesn’t have a brother.”

“Yes, he does,” he said desperately. He wanted to make sure I believed every word.

“Did Claire know, about the plan?” I asked.

No. It was just me.”

100

“She went to the farm for the whole duration of her pregnancy. The plan that everyone was to believe that she married me and went away to Grahamstown where I live. But your granddad nearly messed it up! He told a few people the wrong name instead of mine. But luckily it was only a few.”

“Then after the pregnancy everyone had to think the baby was mine,”

He saw my horror and gave a sad look.

“I didn’t know what to do! I had no choice. I couldn’t let her go through it alone. I begged her to tell Greg, but she didn’t want to. She told Greg that she was pregnant and was going to deliver in Robertson. That he couldn’t visit because her father’s brother didn’t allow any visitors on the farm. Even I couldn’t visit her. Then after the birth, she told Greg that the baby was stillborn. Dead at birth. He was never to know that his child lived.”

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“Why would she do that!”

“She didn’t want him to come running along. She knew it would be trouble and that her dad would never allow Greg to be in her life, or the baby’s. He hated Greg. I don’t know why but he never like him. He always liked me.”

Benjamin said this with a pang of resentment.

“He wanted her to marry me. I guess it was because I was going to be a teacher. You know, he always wanted to be a teacher but his father forced him to be a policeman. That’s why he was happy with me being the father, even in pretend. I had to come visit a couple of times or so with her after the birth, to make it look authentic. She stayed in Robertson for three years. And then they decided to “get rid” of me. They pretended that I was dead of a heart attack. She still wrote to me,

“Her letters...they broke me in to pieces. She was so unhappy. She told me how horrible it was in Robertson on the farm. 102

She was trapped in the house with no one to talk to. She would cry a lot, mostly at night in bed. But it became worse after the birth. After that she just collapsed. Her dad kept calling her a whore and kept talking about what a disgrace she was coming back home with a bastard child after he spent so much money on her studying something he didn’t even approve.

“She changed completely. She was more quiet, kept talking about death, about killing herself. And the dreams, no they weren’t dreams they were nightmares! About a large black dog with golden eyes, her baby being pulled away from her and being thrown in a deep dark hole with Greg calling for her. Being unable to speak,

“She still talked to Greg. If it wasn’t for her dad’s brother’s wife it wouldn’t have been possible. Her father and his brother would never had allowed it. Her aunt secretly sent it each time she made a trip into town. He kept wanting to ask her father for his blessings. He didn’t listen when she told

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him not to do it. Of course her father chased him away like a stray dog,

“It just kept getting worse for her. She told me Greg stopped responding to her letters. She couldn’t take anymore.”

I feared what he would say next.

“Benjamin, how did my mother die? Was it a car accident?”

It looked like he couldn’t bring himself to talk. He kept looking down at the table opening and closing his mouth as he thought.

“She, uh, she ... jumped.”

I felt my body turn ice cold even though it was hot in the restaurant. I stopped taking normal breaths and felt like I was going to have a panic attack. I gripped the chair’s seat for support.

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“Where?” I asked. My voice sounding far away and strange.

“At the local bridge. At lake Louis. It was only the next week that they found her. Her dad pleaded with the policeman to make a false report. Being his co-workers they did. It was written off as a death by a car accident,”

He looked like he was going to cry. His voice trembled.

“I ... I couldn’t even go to the funeral. Everyone thought I was dead. How could I suddenly show up? I never got to say good-bye, to say ... sorry.”

I put my head in my hands and sat like that until he spoke.

“Look, I’m really sorry. I want you to know if ... if I could, I would go back and change everything I did!”

I couldn’t help it. I felt tears sting my eyes. I could imagine her fear, her desperation, standing on the edge of that bridge ready to jump, ready to throw away all her dreams because it 105

felt so impossible. She wanted to be with me, with Greg but she couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t take it anymore, she couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t go through this dominating life that was being lived for her.

She was sick of the stares, the gossip, the fear of what other people would say if they knew the truth. The shame that made her feel like dirt, like second-hand goods. She felt unloved and afraid.

The bridge was cold and the wind was blowing loudly. She closed her eyes and as if it would make it better, spread out her arms like wings and jumped. It was almost instant. She died while falling, suffocating. And as if nothing happened the night went on, the crickets still sang and the wind blew happily along. As if a life was meant to fall free, swift, into the unknown without a slow crescendo.

I need to find Greg. My real father. If he is still alive. A part of me hoped really hard that he was, and another wished to never meet him. To never see the truth for myself.

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“What was Greg’s last name?”

“Simmons. Are you going to look for him?”

“I have to, he’s my father!”

“Well, good luck. I hope you find him. And ...and when you do tell him about what really happened, can you tell him I’m sorry. About everything?”

“I will.”

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BREAKING POINT “Hallo?”

“Aunt Marianne.” I struggled to get out. Tears were streaming down my face. I was in a phone booth and in a state. I couldn’t care who saw me, not now. Not that anyone would care. People just walked by you in the city. Like you didn’t even exist.

“Elly, is that you?”

“Aunt Marianne?”

“Yes, baby.” 108

“I want to come home.”

“You get your butt over here as fast as you can. I’ll be waiting with bagels and fresh coffee.” ****

As soon as my aunt opened that door, I was a blubbering mess.

“Oh, hun,” she stroked my head as I lay against her, “I didn’t want you to do this. I knew it would hurt you.”

I pushed away.

“You knew!”

“Well.. yes.. I mean ...”

“And you kept quiet the whole time, you would rather let a complete stranger tell me he isn’t my father!” 109

“What? What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Greg being my real father. My mother going to grandfather’s brother’s farm to deliver her baby. I never even knew grandfather had a brother. Benjamin told me.”

She looked confused.

“He’s alive?” she asked

“Yes. Wait, you really thought he died?”

“But... ma and daddy ... they told me he...” she trailed off.

“You said daddy’s brother. He lives in Robertson on Moonlit Cove. We use to visit him every Christmas but daddy suddenly didn’t want us to go anymore. So that’s why. MaryEllen was there,” she paused, “What else do you know?”

110

“That my mom committed suicide! Is that what you didn’t want to tell me, aunt Marianne? That my mother was suicidal?”

“I didn’t want you to get hurt. I never thought you’d actually find out about the suicide. Only our family knew about it. How did you find out?”

“Benjamin. How could you do this to me, Aunt Marianne?”

”See this is exactly what I was afraid of, if you only didn’t find those stupid letters.”

“It doesn’t matter if I didn’t find the letters, I always wondered, don’t you see? Anyone would want to know his or her parents. My whole life, my whole life I wondered. I’ve never been able to ask anything about my parents. My own mother, she was a stranger to me!”

A hatred look was in my eyes, I could feel it. I felt like punching the life out of my aunt. 111

I hated them all. My grandparents who lied and killed my mother, my aunt who played along and the stupid community who couldn’t keep their noses out of other people’s business.

“You, all of you, you killed her!” I ran down the street and didn’t look back. I could hear her calling me. Her voice loaded with tears.

I felt sorry for what I said but felt livid for what she did. I didn’t know if I could ever forgive her.

***

I went back to Johannesburg.

Days went by. I spend weeks in my room. I only left it to get dried bread and water. I never washed, shaved my legs or brushed my teeth. I felt stuck.

My face was sore from all the crying, my lips felt cracked. 112

I was wearing a week olds pyjamas and my hair was a mess but I didn’t care.

The phone rang.

“Hello?” I answered completely out of it.

“Hi, Mary-Ellen? It’s Benjamin.”

“Benjamin? How did you get my number?”

“You gave it to me, remember?”

“Oh, what’s wrong?”

I couldn’t really care any less what he had to say. Was there another secret he forgot to tell me about? Was my grandparents secret killers, was my aunt a hooker, no, no, even better was I a twin?

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“I just thought I had to let you know. After you talked to me it felt like a weight was lifted from my shoulders. I felt like all those years of hating myself was gone. I can go on with my life,

“I contacted Claire and we met up. We talked about everything that happened and she didn’t judge me. She didn’t judge me for lying! I realised that all those years Claire was there seeing me but I never saw her.”

“But Claire is married?”

“She’s divorced. We decided that we are going to give it a go.”

“Well, whoop for you.” I flung myself down on the couch.

“What’s wrong?”

“My whole life is falling apart. My grandparents killed my mother, my aunt lied to me and my fiancé is history.” 114

“And you think feeling sorry for yourself is going to help.”

“Hey! I’m hurting here.”

“So what. Pull yourself together and do something about it. It won’t help to hate your aunt for lying, perhaps she felt she had a duty.”

“She had a duty to me!”

“Wouldn’t you try to protect your sister?”

He paused. “And this fiancé. Was he any good?”

“No.”

“Then why are you crying about him? He’s worth nothing. Definitely not your time.”

“What about my grandparents?”

115

“You know my mom always said that you have to forgive not for their sake but for yourself. Without that forgiveness, you can’t go on with your life. You can’t be whole.”

“But what should I do now?”

“Well, what do really want to do?”

“I really want to find my father.”

“Then do it.”

“But how?”

“Google him, ask people on the net, put advertisements in the paper, airmail him, anything!”

I thought about it. He was right. I had to stop feeling sorry for myself, stop living in the past, and I had to take action.

“Benjamin, you’re absolutely right.” 116

â&#x20AC;&#x153;What are you going to do?â&#x20AC;? he asked frantically.

I knew exactly what I had to do.

****

117

ANOTHER LIE? I was on my way to Robertson. I was going to find out what happened on that farm of my grandfatherâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s brother.

The air was humid and the roads were dusty. I struggled to drive on the unpaved roads.

The farm came into my gaze. At the entrance was a board saying Moonlit Cove. The farm was old and looked like it hadnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t been taken care of in a long time.

I stopped in front of the house and climbed out the car.

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The air smelled of farm animals and I became a little queasy. I found it difficult to walk with my shoes on the hard ground but finally reached the porch.

I took a breath and knock softly.

I waited for a while, looking around the farm. It looked dry and empty.

I knocked again this time harder.

The door opened and a woman looked at me.

“Who are you? What do you want?” she asked hostile.

“I’m Mary-Ellen May. You ... you’re my great aunt.”

“You ... you’re Mary’s little baby?” she grew pale.

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“Yes. The reason I’m here ... I want to find out what happened that months she was here, when she was pregnant.”

She looked lost, like she didn’t know what to do with herself.

“Yes, yes,” she said and looked around, “Come in, come in.”

I followed her into the house. It was dark and badly lit. It felt like one of those creepy houses in those movies about serial killers.

She led me to the living room.

“Do you want some tea?” she asked nervousely.

“No, thank you.”

She finally sat next to me on the sofa.

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“I always wondered about you,” she took my face between her hands, “You look just like Mary.”

She started to cry. I didn’t know what to do. Should I console her? Should I sit quietly and wait for her to calm down.

I chose the latter.

After a few minutes, she took a breath and settled down.

“What happened while she was here?” I asked.

“Mary was always a lively child. She would climb trees and do handstands and run after the chickens. It was always a pleasure having her here. And she grew into a beautiful young woman,

“But she hated being here those months. John, my husband, didn’t want her to go out. Especially not in the town, because people would start asking questions. It wasn’t long before she started to show and she grew quite big, 121

“I said to her she would have a little girl. But we all thought she would have twins. She would always sit in her room and write. Oh, she was always busy writing. To that young man mostly. The father,

“She pleaded with me to send the letters for her. I just couldn’t get it over my heart to say no. So every time I went to town I would send the letters off. There were always two letters. One to a Benjamin and one to your father. But she grew very quiet later. The sparkle in her eyes started to fade, she became pale and her arms and legs were very thin,

“I should have done something. I wanted to, really I tried. I pleaded with John but he wouldn’t listen. I told him the child was fading away.”

She stopped and furiously wiped her tears away.

“The night of the birth was terrible. Oh, she screamed so loudly, clutching the blankets. And so much blood, everywhere. I remember the first scream. It was a little girl. 122

Such a beautiful face, even while covered with blood. I tried to calm her. But she cried so much. She wanted to see her baby. But John took it away from her. He didn’t want to show her the baby. Oh, how terrible! How horrible that it happened!”

“What!” I cried.

“No, no. Please, no more. I don’t want to speak about it.”

She frantically waved her arms around.

I had no choice but to leave. She didn’t want to see me anymore.

What happened, I thought. What did she mean? Was she talking about the suicide?

123

A FRIENDLY HAND After I got back home, I decided to search for Greg. I googled his name.

There was a Greg Simmons on mypage.com.

There was no photo but I hoped it would be him.

I send him a e-mail asking him to meet with me. He replied immediately and said he would. I didn’t want to mention my mother’s name yet. I didn’t want to scare him off.

****

124

It was a cold day and the rain was pouring down from the grey skies.

I made my way to the coffee shop and desperately rubbed my hands together for warmth.

“Can I help you?” the man behind the counter asked.

“Yes, can I have a take-away coffee, please.”

“Why don’t you try some of our delicious pastries, freshly baked.” he said.

“No, thank you, I’ll just take the coffee.”

I looked around for Greg. No one looked familiar. The man gave me my coffee.

“Thank you.” I said and turned around.

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But that was a mistake because next thing I knew my coffee poured down a poor stranger’s shirt.

“Oh no! I’m so very sorry!”

He laughed.

“No, it’s fine. It’s just a shirt. Thought the coffee does sting a little.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Let me clean that up for you.”

Without thinking about it any longer, I grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bathrooms. I marched into the ladies bathroom and took my scarf off. I made it wet under the water from the tap and dabbed at his stained shirt.

He stood quietly and waited for me to finish.

“Oh, it doesn’t want to go off!”

126

He put his hand on my hands, stopping it from moving.

I looked up at him, noticing the stranger for the first time. He had brown soft hair, curling at his neck. His dark eyes weren’t any colour I’ve seen before. It was dark black. It mesmerized me, dragged me into it’s gentle evil trance.

“It’s okay,” he said, “It’s just a shirt.”

I didn’t know what to say. I just kept looking at him.

“Yes,” I finally said, not really hearing what I was saying.

“Ggghm,” he cleared his throat, smiling, “I’m Greg.”

“Greg,” I said dreamily. I had totally lost it.

Then it hit me like a dusty hard brick.

“Greg! Gregory Simmons!”

127

“Yes, how do you...wait you’re Mary-Ellen?”

“Yes, oh, it’s not you, “ I said disappointed.

It’s not him! I thought and I was glad, thanking the heavens he wasn’t family.

So it turned out that we sat and talked over a decent nonetake away coffee.

“That’s really fascinating,” he said after I told him my story, “My dad ... he wasn’t that honest to us either,”

“He had another wife and family and we never knew about it. My mother was so in love with my dad she never suspected he was living a double life. Then when his will was being read after his death, we all had to hear about his wife and other children getting most of his assets. “

“That’s terrible!”

128

“Oh, I’m fine with it now. I really didn’t need his money,” he smiled suddenly, “So are you going to buy me another shirt?”

I cringed.

“Yeah, sorry about that again. I’m never that clumsy.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

And he was right about that. There is a first time for everything. And I think I might have just found mine.

129

I tried searching for Greg again. Even though it was nice meeting that wonderful stranger, I still had to find Gregory.

There was a Greg Simmons on yourbiz.com. I clicked on the link and the page started to load.

GREG SIMMONS LAWYER ENGLAND, LONDON EDUCATION: RHODES UNIVERSITY, SA INFO: I AM ORIGANALLY FROM SOUTH AFRICA BUT MOVED TO ENGLAND FOUR YEARS AGO. I CAN BE CONTACTED FOR LEGAL ADVISE AT ANY TIME AT gregsimmons@bsc.com.

Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s him! I knew it was him. It had to be.

I went to my mailbox and started typing my letter to Greg. I took a deep breath and pressed send.

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FINALLY I opened my eyes as the voice of the pilot blares over the intercom.

â&#x20AC;&#x153;We will now be landing. Please fasten your seat belts and relax.â&#x20AC;?

I look out the little window. It was early in the morning and people were working on the landing field. Planes were waiting to take off and the ladders rolled away from them.

One by one the passengers unfastened their seatbelts and took their hand baggage and left the plane into the tube that

131

lead us into the airport. I walked with a sense of triumph, knowing that I had come this far.

The airport was buzzing as all airports do and people of different colours, languages and cultures were standing in queues, taking their luggage and wheeling it to the exit.

With trouble I finally grabbed mine as it went by. I looked around me, gripping the picture of him, and looked for a familiar face.

And there he was. I immediately recognised him. The smiling green eyes, the soft brown hair with a touch of grey at the sides. He had glasses on, but his eyes were still very visible.

And for a moment I suddenly realised. I didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t know how to react. Should I go up and hug him? Should I run to him? Should I burst out in tears?

He slowly walked over to where I was standing, frozen. I couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t keep my eyes off him. 132

“Hello,” he said softly. I could hear the broken voice by tears hidden behind those beautiful eyes.

“Hello,” I said.

And the next thing I was in his arms, sobbing terribly. I didn’t care who saw us, I didn’t care where I was. I just knew I never wanted this moment to end.

I could feel his tears falling on my back. I welcomed those precious tears. My father’s tears.

**** When we walked up to the beautiful house, I was still in shock. I just couldn’t believe it was over. No, it wasn’t over it just began. I finally met my father. The one person I’ve been wanting, needing all my life.

He rang the doorbell.

133

I felt his warm hand behind my back, holding me close. It felt unreal. I wanted that embrace all my life, and now it was here whenever I needed it.

The door opened. A small girl stood in front of us. She was standing there with her one thumb in her mouth. Her innocent eyes looked curiously at me.

It was like looking at those video’s when I was younger. The image of myself at seven was staring back at me, and I couldn’t believe it.

“Sweetheart, go call your mother, will you?” he said to her.

We walked inside the house.

It was warm inside. The sun was brightly shining in the house but it still had this cool atmosfere.

“She looks just like me.”

134

“What?”

“When I was younger, I mean. I looked just like that.”

“I would like to see that,” he smiled.

A small built woman appeared.

Her light brown hair was neatly combed and she had soft red lipstick on. She had an apron on, but it didn’t look unflattering.

“Oh, finally!”

She came towards me and gave me a sudden big hug.

“I couldn’t wait to meet you. We all couldn’t,” she said as her little daughter took shelter under her mom’s arm.

She took my face between her hands.

135

“You are a gift, Elly.”

I couldn’t keep the tears in, it spilled down over my cheeks.

We sat in the living room, all four of us.

I showed them the photo album of my baby pictures until my teenage years.

Then I turned the page and the familiar photo I looked at for years appeared, my mother was standing in the garden smiling. She posed for the camera dramatically and smiled brightly with a complete set of white sparkling teeth.

I looked at Marlena, Greg’s wife. I feared that she wouldn’t like seeing his old girlfriend’s picture.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, “She’s so beautiful.”

She looked at me.

136

“Just like you.”

I appreciated her lovely heart so much. She was so pleasant, so kind. She was like a mother I never knew. She took me in so quickly. Even though she never knew me.

That night I slept in a just made bed. The linens smelled of sweet roses.

My dad suddenly came in. My dad. It feels so weird to say those two words. But it feels strangely so warm and easy in my mouth.

“I just thought I’d come tuck you in.”

I smiled.

“I know you’re too old for that. But I really want to do that with you. If you’d let me.”

“I would really love that.” 137

He came closer and started tucking the covers at the sides of my body. Then he came over the right and gave me a kiss on my forehead. A tender kiss.

“Good night, love.”

“Good night,” I said.

Uncertain I called, “D..dad?”

He turned and looked surprise but please.

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

He sighed.

“I love you more.”

138

A NEW BEGINNING I stayed for a whole week.

In that week I saw a person in Greg that I had never met in my life. He was alive, funny, happy and encouraged me.

He was really happy that I left Mark.

“He wasn’t good for you,” he said.

“Yeah.”

We were looking over at the river at the back of the house at the porch. 139

Birds were calling and the stream of water made a soft, soothing sound.

Greg disappeared for a moment and I followed him with my gaze.

He came back. With a rose in his right hand.

He leaned on the porch wall again.

He held the rose out to me.

“You know, a rose takes a lot of work to take care of. It’s so gentle and precious and must be looked after very carefully. It smells wonderful and looks beautiful. But if you tread on it, you can break it so easily. So many kids come by and smash my roses with sticks. They can’t see how valuable it is. How much needed that beauty is in this cold world,

140

“But one day an old man came pass my garden. He bent down and smelled a rose. I saw such a pleasant smile appear on his face. He stroke the rose gently and walked away.” He put the rose into my hands.

“You are that rose, Elly. One day someone will come along and treat you with the utmost respect. He will carry you on a pedestal.”

Greg was good with that. Making you feel like the most precious person alive. He could give such wonderful messages to you. Encouraging ones.

“Actually, I might of met such a person.”

“You did?”

“His name is also Greg. We met while I was searching for you. I can’t explain it. I got this feeling, that it was just right, you know.”

141

“I know,” he had a far away look in his eyes, “That’s how I felt about your mother.”

“Why do you think she did it? Why didn’t she fight? For you two.”

“She couldn’t. When your family rejects you , it breaks you. You feel lost without them. Like you lost your identity.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“I’ve always wanted to know what happened. I couldn’t understand how I could’ve lost her,

“For years I wondered. I couldn’t move on at all. Until I met Marlena,

“Instead of getting mad at me for missing someone else, she kind of made Mary-Ellen apart of our relationship.”

“I miss her.” I said. 142

“I miss her too,” he said looking sad. But then he brightened up, “But she left me the greatest gift anyone could ever leave. You.”

“I never told you how I met your mother.”

“No you didn’t,” I felt excited again.

“It was one night at the University pub, a Friday. Your mother was there with her friends. She was so beautiful. She had a red dress on, all twirly at the end. I watched her dance all night and I could swear she looked at me also a couple of times.

“The next Friday she wasn’t there. I knew I had to see her again. I looked all over campus for her until I found her. It was kind of the old movie way but we bumped into each other and our books fell. Of course our hands didn’t touch, no, instead we bumped our head as we both went down to pick it up,” he laughed.

143

“We started hanging out after that.” he looked spellbound. I remembered the letter.

“I got something for you,” I said and went inside of the house. When I returned I held the letter out to him.

“It’s from her.”

He took it, shaking, and started to read. He started to cry softly and smiled when he finished.

“What does it say?” I asked.

“It’s a good bye letter.”

144

A TWIST I called Aunt Marianne.

We made up finally and I told her everything.

“I’m so happy for you Elly,” she said.

I could feel she genuinely meant it.

“Thank you, Aunt Marianne.”

“Aunt Marianne?” I said. “I will always love you. You know that, right?” 145

“Yes.”

“You will always be my family.”

“I know. And you’ll always be mine.”

There was a pause.

“Elly, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Yes?”

“When I was sixteen, I ... I met a boy. We started dating and we saw each other almost every day. One day after a school dance, we drove around in his car,

“We started talking about anything. But then he stopped and started kissing me. It was nice at first, but it became rougher and rougher. I pulled away and asked him what he was doing. He... he said I must relax and started...touching me. 146

“I tried to stop him and he slapped me. I jumped out of the car and ran away, but he followed me ad threw me on the ground. He pulled my clothes of and...” she wimpered.

“He raped me.”

“Oh, Aunt Marianne, I...”

“I couldn’t tell my parents. I felt too ashamed. Then I missed my period and I knew immediately. I was pregnant. Daddy was so angry ... he called me a whore. He... he never forgave me for it. He forced me to get an abortion. I didn’t want to. It was my baby! My baby.”

I didn’t know what to say. The silence sat in the air like the death. The death of a child.

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Greg agreed to come back with me to South Africa. He wanted to meet my aunt.

The flight was nice suddenly. I wasn’t alone. I had someone with me. Someone I actually knew.

The other Greg and I met up.

We promised to keep talking to each other via email. I really felt this could be it!

He reminded me of someone. At first I couldn’t figure out who. Then it hit me. Greg. He was just like him. I felt myself starting to fall in love with him. He was my Greg!

When we entered the airport, I immediately saw Aunt Marianne. She didn’t see us, though. She looked nervous, folding her hands tightly against her chest.

We went over to her. She saw me. Her face immediately lightened up. And I knew I’d missed her. So much. 148

“Hi!” she gave me a big hug.

She looked at Greg.

“Hi,” she said shyly.

“You can’t imagine how wonderful it is to meet you.”

She smiled a fond smile.

And the ice was immediately broken.

For hours my aunt, Greg and I sat talking about mom. We cried, laughed and appreciated knowing and loving such a wonderful person as my mother.

We drove to the graveyard where my mother was buried. I was nervous. I’ve never been here before. We walked over the grass. All over were graves. Some looked new, other were old and almost broken.

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There were flowers at almost every grave.

“I have a surprise for you, Elly,” my aunt said excitedly.

She lead us to the grave.

I saw a beautiful grave with a golden angel on top.

It read...and then I knew it was the grave.

My aunt smiled.

“It’s this one,” I said more to myself.

“Yes.”

“It’s the perfect grave for someone as special as Mary-Ellen.”

I read the engraving aloud.

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“A loving daughter, a loving sister..” I paused, “and a devoted mother.”

Tears welled up in my eyes.

“I added the last part. I felt it was needed.”

She gave me a soft hug from behind.

I placed the fresh flowers on the grave.

I smiled.

“Let’s go.”

We entangled into each other and walked away.

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I went to Johannesburg again, back to my house. I was cleaning up.

I decided that I was moving to Cape Town. I wanted to live near my aunt.

Greg went back to London. I was going to visit every holiday. Marlena send her love.

I saw it with the corner of my eye. The old briefcase. I picked it up. I gently touched it. It meant a lot to me this old briefcase.

I put it on the bed. I was just about to walk away, when it fell.

â&#x20AC;&#x153;Oh!â&#x20AC;?

I picked it up. But there was something underneath it on the floor. I picked it up. It was another letter.

I must have been stashed inside the briefcase somehow. 152

I opened it.

Dear Mary-Ellen By now you have probably found the letters in my cupboard and hopefully the letters on the loft that I kept for you all these years as promise to your mother. I am so sorry that I had to hide your past from you. Your grandfather was very strict and hated to think that he failed in raising our beautiful daughter. I cannot completely blame him though, because as much as he, I also hid it from everyone. If only he could have realised before his death that he didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t fail, that he raised the most wonderful, outspoken, talented daughter anyone could have had. I know this does not make up the least for what we have done. We were afraid of what the community would say if they realised our daughter had a child out of wed153

lock. Our name would have been slandered and we would have been kicked out of the church. So we made the story up that your mother had gotten married and was living out of town. Instead of that she was actually in a house in Robertson. I remember how she cried but still tried to be brave. It broke me inside. I even had to hide it from my own daughter, your aunt. She also believed the story. I don’t know what really happened to the boy, your father, but hopefully he can also find it in his heart to forgive us for our dreadful sin. I know that I might die with this secret but I wanted you to know so you wouldn’t die without knowing. And know that you are not a mistake but the biggest blessing in my life. I also want you to know about the part that hurts me the most. There were two of you. But she didn’t make it. She was born too early. She died the next day. 154

The doctor didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t know there was still one baby left but you were soon born and luckily survived. You were twins.

My shaking hands folded up the piece of paper and put it down on the table.

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