‘That’s okay; I wanted to do it.’ Then she decided to jump straight in, rather than think about it and risk losing her nerve: ‘Mum? Do you have any photos of my dad?’
The colour appeared to wash out of Stephanie’s face. She sat down, as if to prevent herself from fainting. ‘You’ve never asked to see photographs of your dad before,’ she said.
Alice felt uncomfortable. ‘Um... I know. But, I just realised, when I saw those old pictures; well,’ Alice pointed at the photographs displayed in the cabinet above the dishwasher, ‘I realised that I haven’t seen any pictures of him... I don’t know what he looks like.’ She paused.
Stephanie’s gaze fixed on the photographs in the cabinet. The colour had returned to her face now, but she was gradually turning redder and redder. Alice was not sure if she was embarrassed or angry.
Alice coughed to try to get her mother’s attention. Then she continued. ‘The other day, in the café, your friend, Rita, she said I look like my dad.’
Stephanie sighed deeply and stood up. ‘I don’t have any photos of him.’ There was an apologetic tone to her voice, but then she looked directly at her daughter and said: ‘I didn’t really want to look at any photos of him when he left us. Can you blame me?’ Her cheeks were still very red.
Alice looked away. ‘I suppose not,’ she muttered, disappointed. Unsure whether she should continue, she decided to take the risk: ‘Do I look like him?’
‘Well, yes, I suppose so. Yes, okay, you do,’ said her mother, begrudgingly.
Looking at her mother’s face, she saw that her colour had returned to normal. Perhaps she would be okay to talk some more about him. Alice was curious. Now that she had started to talk about him she felt a need to find out as much as she could; it was like unwrapping a gift in a “pass-the-parcel” game—each answer unwrapped a further truth and brought her closer to the mysterious man who was her father. ‘Why did you split up? I mean, your friend seemed really surprised that you were divorced. Why was she so surprised?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Alice, do we really have to talk about this now? It’s not important.’ Stephanie sighed again. ‘Let’s go out.’
‘But, Mum, wait!’ She felt a longing in her heart to find out more, but her chance was slipping away, out of her grasp.
Stephanie turned to face her.
‘It’s important to me. I need to know about my dad.’
There was a look of anxiety in her mother’s eyes. ‘It must be hard for you,’ she said, looking past Alice at nothing in particular. Then she shook her head as if to rid it of painful memories. ‘Look, just forget about him,’ she said quickly, smiling to hide any other feelings. ‘He’s not part of our lives. He’s the one who decided to stay away. I never tried to stop him seeing you, he just never made the effort. He left us. He’s not worth worrying about. You’re an adult now, darling. You don’t need him. We’re happy, aren’t we?’
‘Yes, but...’
‘You don’t need him,’ repeated Stephanie, as if trying to convince her.
‘Lots of children try to find their parents... It’s something I want to try—’
‘I don’t think you should,’ said Stephanie, bluntly.
‘Why not? Is there something you haven’t told me about him? Was he violent?’
Stephanie laughed. ‘No, nothing like that.’
‘Well... I’m not being disrespectful or anything, but just because you two didn’t get on, that’s no reason for me not to know him... He’s my dad. He might want to know me, too.’
‘If he wanted to know you, he’d have contacted you before now. He knows where we live. Please, darling, I just don’t want you to disappoint yourself. He wanted a divorce so he could remarry; he didn’t want us anymore. See how selfish he was? He’s stayed away for so long.’
Alice began to think that her mother might be right. The sad truth was that her father had never once even thought of sending her a Christmas present or birthday card. He didn’t care. She felt upset and disheartened. ‘Sorry, Mum, I shouldn’t have asked you about him. Let’s go out and forget about this.’
Stephanie put a hand on Alice’s shoulder. ‘I’m not trying to stop you, dear. You know that if I thought it was a good idea for you to contact your father, I’d help you, really. I just don’t think it is.’ She smiled and turned towards the door. Alice could not tell what thoughts were going around her head, but she seemed positively relieved that Alice had changed her mind.
They spent the day in Regent’s Park and then had a meal in a restaurant beside the Thames. Despite the fine weather, there was tension in the air between mother and daughter. Alice could tell that her mother was feeling insecure about the fact that she was showing an interest in finding her father. The afternoon had only reinforced Alice’s suspicion that there was something she had not told her about him. This served to stir her curiosity further. At the same time, she knew that any mention of her father seemed to upset her mother, and that was something she did not want to do. She felt trapped in an in-between place; wanting to know more about him, but not wanting to destroy the relationship she had with her mother. As she made her way to the doctor’s surgery for her appointment that afternoon, she felt tearful.
***
Alice returned home at 4.30 p.m., after her visit to the doctor. Dr. Small said he was unsure about what could be causing the pain in her arm. He said he would refer her to the local hospital for some tests; she would receive a date for the appointment in due course.
Sitting on the sofa in the living room, her feet on the coffee table in front of her, Alice noticed yesterday’s newspaper lying on the table. Her thoughts went back over the events of the day. Feelings of guilt rose to the surface when she remembered how her mother had seemed to be on the verge of tears for most of the day. If she was going to look for her father, she knew she would have to do it on her own.
Her heart felt heavy as she recalled how her mother had inferred that she would probably end up disappointed if she did look for him; he might not want to know her. But Alice knew that was a risk she would have to take. She didn’t want to live her life wondering “what if?”. All the coincidences surrounding the plane crash had kick-started her curiosity. Was Jane Forester somehow related to her? Was she a half-sister she had never met? Her father could have a whole other family. Somehow, Alice had started to feel incomplete as soon as she had decided to try to find him; it felt as if part of her background had been blotted out and it was up to her to fill in the gaps. Her father was a part of her; if he hadn’t existed she would never have been born. Part of her imagination that had rested dormant for years had now begun to stir; she knew she would have to continue in her journey to the end, no matter what the consequences.
***
That evening, Stephanie sat alone in her kitchen, eating a bowl of spaghetti bolognese. Spread out in front of her on the table were the last few photographs she had of Roger Forester. They were old, black and white, and slightly faded. She stared at the photographs, scrutinising Roger’s smiling face as he held Alice in his arms. Would others be able to see what she saw behind the smile on his face? Was that why she did not want to show the photographs to anyone else... even Alice? Stephanie could see that he was faking the smile; but was that just something her mind had conjured up because of everything that had passed between them? Was her imagination reflecting back to her what she thought she knew when she looked at the photograph? Would someone else just be able to see a smiling man, happy to be holding his tiny daughter in his arms?
She felt insecure when she thought about Alice’s new found interest in her father. She was twenty-one years old, and up until now she had never really asked any questions about him. Stephanie had always known that the day might come when Alice may want to know more, but as the years had rolled by she had become more hopeful that perhaps it would never happen. It had come as more of a shock to her than it should have when Alice asked about Roger; after all, she did have the right to know the truth about her
father—but at what cost?
Her meal continued to grow cold in the bowl in front of her as she contemplated the photographs and thoughts about Roger swirled around her mind; thoughts that had been packed away in a box, hidden in the depths of her memories, sealed tightly. As Alice grew up, Stephanie became too complacent, she realised, imagining that she would never have to think about the secrets locked away, buried deep where no one could find them; but now she sensed that the box was like a ticking time bomb, gathering dust, but nevertheless ticking away, and one day the time would come for all to be revealed.
Standing up, she lifted her bowl with the half-eaten pasta and placed it absent-mindedly in the sink. Her mind wandered to a time long ago when Alice had asked about her father. She had only been five years old at the time.
‘Mummy, all the other children at school have a daddy. Why don’t I have one?’
Stephanie felt a lump in her throat as she continued to get Alice dressed for school. Looking into her daughter’s innocent eyes, she didn’t know what to say. She began tying the child’s shoelaces, looking fixedly at the laces as if directing the reply to them. ‘Well, darling, a daddy is just the same as a mummy really. It is just a name for someone who looks after you.’ Stephanie smiled, and hoped that Alice would not ask any further questions. ‘Come on, let’s go and have breakfast.’ She lifted Alice off the bed.
‘But, Mummy, why does everyone else have a mummy and a daddy? Karen said I should have a daddy too. She said maybe he died. Natalie’s daddy died. What does that mean, Mummy? Did my daddy died?’ Alice’s forehead creased into a frown, her brown eyes waiting for a reply.
‘No, your daddy... You don’t have a daddy. You only have a mummy. Not everyone has a mummy and daddy. When you’re older you’ll understand.’
Alice then saw her cat run up the stairs to greet her and she began to play happily with the creature, forgetting her questions, and leaving Stephanie to worry whether she had said the right thing and what she should say the next time.
When Stephanie thought Alice was old enough to understand, she explained that Roger had left them, telling her that their relationship had broken down, they had grown apart and could no longer live together. In a way, Stephanie preferred it that Roger had cut himself off from them completely; it made things less complicated.
***
Stephanie emerged from Alice’s bedroom. It had taken longer than usual to settle her to sleep, as Alice was teething and didn’t want to be left alone. Eventually, after Stephanie read her a story, the child had fallen asleep. As she stepped out of the bedroom, her head throbbing, she wondered how long it would be before Alice started crying again; she prayed that she would somehow sleep through the night tonight. For three nights now, Alice had woken her up throughout the night and she had hardly been able to get any rest.
Stephanie walked into her own bedroom, ready to collapse onto the bed. Roger was packing a suitcase. ‘Roger? What are you doing?’ In her groggy state of mind, she wondered if she was dreaming. For the past couple of days it had been hard to tell if she was asleep or awake half the time.
‘I’m leaving you,’ he said, throwing the final items of clothing into the suitcase and slamming it shut.
She stood at the doorway, now holding on to the door handle to steady herself. ‘What do you mean?’ she heard herself say, but it was more of a mumble, and she could not be sure if she had said it or thought it. He didn’t appear to have heard her.
‘Excuse me,’ he said gruffly, as he approached the door. He then indicated with a gesture that he wanted her to move away from the door so that he could leave.
‘Wait, what’s happened?’ she asked, unable to believe that he was just leaving, without warning. Things had not been going well between them; there had been a lot of rows over trivial things, but she hadn’t expected this... Tears filled her eyes, threatening to spill.
He stood up straight and looked her in the eyes, his gaze was cold, unemotional. ‘Don’t pretend you didn’t know this was coming. This marriage isn’t working. We both know that. We hardly speak to each other—’
‘We have a small child—’
‘We both know you wanted a child more than I did.’ He pushed past her, forcing her to let go of the door handle. She turned around quickly to face him, and saw stars before her eyes. She took a deep breath to settle herself. The lack of sleep was making her woozy. Now, what she was hearing from Roger didn’t make sense. She thought he wanted Alice, too. She thought they’d both wanted children. ‘You... You never wanted her? Is that what you’re saying?’
‘I never said that.’ He began walking down the stairs.
‘Why didn’t you tell me before?’ Stephanie hurried after him, turning towards Alice’s bedroom door, speaking in a low voice to avoid waking her, praying she would stay asleep.
‘Your heart was set on having a child, remember? It was like it would be the end of the world if you never had one.’ Roger was talking to her from the bottom of the stairs.
She stood holding onto the bannisters, looking at him. He had made up his mind, he was leaving; he didn’t even want to discuss it. She didn’t want to let him go.
He reached towards the front door.
‘Roger, please.’ She wiped her tears on the sleeve of her dressing gown. ‘Don’t leave, not like this; let’s talk.’
‘You haven’t wanted to talk to me for the past couple of months, why start now?’ he huffed.
‘I’ve been moody sometimes, yes, but so have you. It’s Alice, she doesn’t sleep well. I’m up half the night.’
‘You’ve got time to sleep during the day; you’re not working.’
‘It’s a full time job running the house and looking after a small child; looking after you.’
He fished inside his coat’s pocket for his car keys: ‘Well, you won’t have to worry about looking after me anymore. I’m going.’ He opened the front door.
She ran down the stairs and tried to hold onto his arm, but he pulled it away.
‘Stephanie, stop fooling yourself. We’re living separate lives already. Think about it, when was the last time we had sex?’
‘Is that what this is about—’
‘No, that’s not it! We’re different people. It’ll never work. We hardly talk to each other anymore. We’re better off apart.’ He stepped outside the door.
‘But, Alice... What will happen to Alice? She’s your daughter...’
‘Take care of Alice. Good-bye, Stephanie,’ he said, pulling the door closed behind him.
She stood alone, the slamming of the door resonating in her ears. Alice began to cry.
***
As Stephanie sat in the kitchen and recalled the memories, she wondered whether she had pushed things too far. Roger had never been as keen to start a family as she had. She began to think that maybe he had not wanted Alice from the start. Perhaps they should have been trying to work out the problems in their relationship, before thinking about having a child.
Stephanie’s mind went back to the conversation she’d had with Alice earlier that day. What if Alice found Roger, and what if she got to know him? Surely, he wasn’t a threat to her now... or was he? She couldn’t be sure what he would tell Alice about the reasons he left home. Would he tell her about— Just at that moment the telephone rang, interrupting Stephanie’s train of thought. She walked into the living room, sat on the sofa and picked up the phone.
‘Hello,’ she said absent-mindedly.
‘Steph, hi, it’s Rita,’ said the friendly voice on the other end.
Rita’s voice brought Stephanie back down to earth. ‘R... Rita,’ she stuttered, ‘how nice to hear from you.’
‘It was so nice to see you again on Tuesday; it brought back so many memories. I can’t believe Alice is already so grown up. It seems like only yesterday she was just a baby. Doesn’t time go too quickly?’
‘Y... Yes, it does.’
‘We really must meet up soon,’ Rita babbled on, unaware that her v
oice was making her friend feel uncomfortable.
Such timing, Stephanie couldn’t help feeling edgy; she had just been thinking about events from years ago, and now she was hearing the voice of someone who knew everything... all about her secret. The truth now seemed to be bubbling under the surface ready to reveal itself, like a chick cracking through the shell of an egg, slowly chipping away until soon all that was left would be shattered remains.
‘We used to be so close; it’s such a shame we lost touch.’ Rita’s words awaited a response.
Perhaps this was a good thing; maybe Rita walking back into her life now was a blessing—after all, she was the only one who ever knew.
‘Rita,’ she began tremulously, ‘I’m sorry if I wasn’t very friendly when I saw you on Tuesday. I just hadn’t expected to see you, and it brought everything back—all the memories. Sometimes, I think I’d prefer to forget.’ She laughed to hide her nervousness.
‘Steph, don’t worry. It was as much of a shock for me seeing you. It did upset me to hear that you and Roger split up. I don’t know if you want to talk about it. I knew you had problems when I was around, but I really thought that would change when Alice came along. I mean, you both wanted a child so badly, didn’t you?’
‘Hmm, it’s funny. I was thinking about that just before you phoned. I’m not sure. Maybe Roger didn’t really want Alice. She asked me about him today. Of course, I expected her to ask about him sooner or later, but it still came as a shock. She’s never really seemed that bothered about him not being around. I’m sure if she finds him and finds out everything, she’ll hate me. What do you think? I’ve been going crazy all day worrying about it.’
‘Why would Alice hate you? I don’t understand. Of course, I don’t really know much about what went on after I left town. How old was Alice when Roger left?’