A terrible surprise came to light by pure chance. My four-year-old sister Lucy had developed an umbilical hernia. The doctors insisted it shouldnt waitthe sooner the surgery, the better. Lucy refused point-blank to go to the hospital without Dad. We waited for him to return from his haul, and he walked her all the way to the operating room.
“Daddy, will you wait here for me?” my little sister sobbed.
“Where else would I go, love? Of course, Ill wait. Why are you crying? Youre so brave, arent you?”
“Im not crying! Im just sighing!”
And with that, they wheeled her away. It was a routine procedure, but the hospital required Mum and Dad to donate bloodno exceptions.
“Only one of us will match, surely,” Dad said. “Couldnt you test first? So we dont give more than needed?”
“Theres no such thing as too much blood!” the doctor replied firmly.
Mum and Dad both donated. Mum turned pale, looking like she might faint any second. Afterward, she couldnt sit still, darting in and out of the treatment room, chatting with the nurse. Eventually, Lucy was wheeled out, and Dad went to meet her as promised. He stayed with her the whole weekend. Mum seemed to calm down, checked on Lucy, then insisted on driving me homethough I protested.
“I can stay with her too,” I argued stubbornly.
I was eleven by then. Lucy, my little blonde sister, was my whole world. Maybe even more than Mum and Dad. How could anyone not love her? She was an angela golden-haired angel in the flesh.
Picture a small market town with its modest hospitalnew, well-equipped, even with a blood bank. But a small town is still a small town. Three days later, Lucy was home, and Dad was preparing for another haul. He popped out for cigarettes but returned looking like a thundercloud.
“Daddy!” Lucy wailed from her room (she was still on bed rest). “Did you bring my marshmallows?”
Dad left the shopping bag in the hallway, told me to go to Lucys room, then steered Mum into the kitchen.
“John John, whats wrong?”
The conversation that followed was one I wouldnt understand until years later. At the time, Lucy was too young, and I obeyed Dad without question. Lucy whined for him and her sweets, so I offered to read to her. Thankfully, she agreed.
In the kitchen, John, eyes wild, backed MumZoeagainst the wall.
“Is it true? Lucy isnt mine?”
“What what are you saying? Have you lost your mind?”
“Ill tell you what Im saying. Im blood type A positive. Youre O positive. But hers” He jerked his head toward the door. “is B negative. If theres been a mix-up, we can re-test.”
Zoe shoved him aside, slumped at the table, and dropped her head into her hands with a groan.
“Bastards. I begged them! Why do they have to ruin everything? Theyre jealous, John. We had it all. Beautiful kids, a good life.”
“You begged them right. Got it.”
He stormed out, leaving Zoe in tears. Just one slipout of loneliness, boredom, with that engineer on assignment. Dad was always on the road. In films, being a lorry driver seems romantic. In reality, its cold and miserable. Zoe convinced herself he wasnt faithful eitherhow could he be, away so much? She jumped up to chase him, but he was already gone. Only a box of marshmallows remained on the table.
After his next haul, Dad sat me down for a serious talk. He asked me to leave with him.
“Dad, what about Lucy? Mum? Cant you stay?”
A boulder of dread settled on my shoulders. Rocks are made of layersId seen videos. This weight was no different. Fear of losing Dad. Fear of choosing. Either way, Id lose someone. In my head, the math was simple: Lucy + Mum outweighed Dad alone. Though, just Lucy mightve tipped the scales.
Dad and I met often after that. He acted like Lucy didnt exist. I didnt understand, but if he couldve explained, he wouldve. At first, Lucy cried for himit was painful to watch. Then she stopped asking. She withdrew, lost in her toys. I couldnt fathom why this punishment had fallen on her, but I had my guesses. As for Mum
Mum lost it. She started dragging rubbish home from the dump. First, harmless, useful things. Then anything and everything. She stopped caring about us entirely, muttering over her “treasures.” How a young, beautiful woman could turn into that in eighteen monthsI couldnt comprehend. But I never told Dad. Our neighbor, Auntie Mary, helped with Lucy and me sometimes. Dads child support covered food, but the stench soaking our flat kids at school mocked me relentlessly, though I avoided fights.
“Auntie Mary, can you teach me to iron?” I asked her one day.
“Oliver, you need to wash them first,” she said, wrinkling her nose.
“Pointless. I did. But Im seeing Dad tomorrow, and I cant look like this”
“So he” She gasped. “He doesnt know about Zoe?”
“I wont tell him. He left. Its not his problem anymore!”
She let me in, then reconsidered. “Bring Lucy too. Ill tidy you both up. And bring your clotheschange here. Ill help however I can.”
So we did. At least I no longer reeked like a tramp at school. But Auntie Mary didnt stop there. She confronted Dad, shaming him. He met me after school.
“Why didnt you tell me?”
“Would you have come back?”
“No. But you couldve lived with me.”
“And Lucy?”
He fell silent. I shook my head and turned toward home.
“Wait! Lucy could stay with Grandma.”
“Grandmas got a new husband. Shes not interested.”
“Figures where you get it from” Dad cut himself off.
He tried talking to his ex-mother-in-law anyway.
“John, are you mad? Why would I want little kids? Im starting over!”
“But Lucys your granddaughter!”
“Pity.”
“What?!”
“Pity motherhoods obvious, but fatherhood isnt. If I had a son with kids, whos to say theyre mine? Clean hands. But shes mine, alright. Still, Ive got my own life.”
“Right. Shouldve taken a closer look at you before marrying Zoe.”
One morning, I woke to find Mum gone. Her hoard remained untouchedshed at least kept mine and Lucys room clearbut shed vanished. I opened the window, letting frosty air dilute the stench. Fed Lucy, nibbled something myself, then took her to Auntie Marys.
“Mums missing. Ive got school.”
“Missing? Its freezing! Where is she?”
My reckless, broken mother ended her days on a distant landfill. Why she froze instead of coming home, no one knew. Auntie Mary said social services would take us now. And they came. A woman surveyed our flat and turned to Mary.
“Could we handle the paperwork at yours?”
“Of course,” Mary sighed.
“Hold it.” Dads voice echoed up the stairs. “Sorryjust back from a haul. These are my kids.”
“And the flats yours?” The social worker smirked.
Dad didnt even glance inside. “Pack your things. Were going home. Well sort this place later.”
“And Lucy?” I whispered, terrified.
“Obviously. Lucy, you too.”
My sister peeled herself from the wall and shuffled toward him.
“Daddy?”
“Yes, love?”
“Is it really you?”
He scooped her up, hugging her tight with a heavy sigh.
“Its me. Im here. Its alright.”
“Dont leave again, Daddy!” Lucy wailed.
I froze. Shed spill everything, and the stern woman would take us despite having a living father. But the social worker had lost interest, gossiping with Mary instead. And Dadtears streamingheld Lucy close. Hed tried so hard to resent her, to stay away, but his love for her, for us, won in the end.
“I wont. Im never leaving you again.”
