Oh, my boys finally home! Evas voice cracked with joy as she flung the kitchen door wide.
Nicholas fumbled with his flat cap at the threshold. Hey, Mum, he called, pausing as if choosing his words. Im not alone. He nudged a slender lad in glasses, a battered backpack sagging over his shoulders, forward.
Good heavens, my dear grandchild! Is that Sherry or Alistair? I cant recognise him without my spectacles.
Nicholas dropped into a chair, pulling the boys thin coat over his knees. Here, put the glasses on. This is Victor, my outofwedlock son. Remember when I and Mollie split for a year? I fell in with Vicky, and Victor was the result. I signed his birth register under my name out of sheer foolishness, he whispered, a sigh escaping his throat.
Eva snapped at him, What are you babbling about in front of a child? Hes far too young to know about your tangled life. She turned to the boy. Victor, off to the lounge, have a look at the telly while we sort this out with your father.
The boy slipped away without a word, heading toward the living room. Evas voice softened. Does Mollie know about him?
She never liked my sons wifealways quarrelsome and sharptongued, Nicholas muttered, his jaw tightening.
Evas eyes narrowed. Youre serious, son? If she found out, shed have thrown you out on the street ages ago. I feel sorry for you; I built that boy from the ground up with my own two hands.
Nicholas shivered. Mother, if she knew, Id be homeless by now.
Eva exhaled sharply, Youve always been a wandering fool, not a man but a drifter under Mollies heel all your life. How could you even think of fathering a child on the side? And why bring him here? Mollie will find out and Ill be in trouble.
Nicholas, agitation evident, tried to explain. Vicky, that snake, was about to marry. She fled south with a new lover for a monthcan you imagine? She called me, said Take the boy wherever you like, even bring him home. I went mad, thinking my wife would throw us both out. She warned me shed make life hard if I didnt comply. Ill give Mollie Victors birth certificate; youll have to sort it yourself. Thats all. Im done. Vicky barely forgave me, didnt speak to me for half a year. So I thought, let the child stay with you a month, then Ill come back and take him, he said, eyes fixed on the floor, never meeting his mothers stare.
Eva shook her head. Thats the same reckless boy you were as a child, never changing. If anything goes wrong, Ill help. Now, where should we put him? She hesitated, then asked, Is he really yours?
Nicholas waved his hand dismissively. Of course. Dont doubt it. Vickys no saint, but Im a loyal mothers son.
Silence fell. Eva sprang to her feet. What am I doing just standing here? Lets at least get him fed.
Nicholas rose, guilt shadowing his features. Sorry, Mum, Ive got to go. Mollies waiting at home. I told her I was heading into town for spare parts. Feed Victor, Ill be back soon.
She clasped her sons arm, whispering, God be with you, my dear.
Victor ate with a ferocious speed, eyes never leaving the plate.
More? Eva asked, pity lacing her tone as she watched him polish off the last bite.
No, thank you, he replied, pushing away from the table.
Go out for a walk, then. Ill finish dinner. Whats in that backpack of yours?
Stuff, he muttered.
Eva raised an eyebrow. Do you plan to wash it yourself, or must I?
Victor lifted his gaze, trembling. I dont know how. Mum always did the washing.
She lifted the small rucksack, Alright, Ill take a look and rinse whatever is dirty.
He disappeared down the hallway, leaving her to unpack the modest contents: two plain tees, a pair of shorts and a couple of underpants.
Hardly any clothing, she chuckled, shaking her head. Not even a warm jumper. Typical of a mother who never learns. She dunked the garments in a basin, then turned to the cherry pie cooling on the windowsill.
A sudden cry shattered the quiet. Eva bolted from the kitchen, flour still clinging to her sleeves.
Whats happened?
Victor wailed, clutching his leg. A goose bit me! It hurtsmy eyes are streaming.
Why would you go near the geese? Theyre out in the field, not in the yard, she asked, noting the red welts on his shin.
I just wanted to look at them, he sobbed.
Never seen a goose before? she asked, surprised.
Ive seen them, just never gone close, he whispered.
Alright, lets get you inside, Ill rub some ointment on that. She guided him to the sofa after dinner, laying him down gently.
Sleep eluded her; she lay awake listening to the house settle. The world felt as if it had turned upside down. She thought of the day shed sent her own boy, Colin, to a distant relatives farm. A mothers love, tangled and stubborn, had led her here, clutching a frail child whose trousers seemed worth more than gold.
A muffled sob rose from Victors direction. She knelt beside him. Whats wrong, love? Dont you like it here?
He stared up, voice shaking. Theyll take me to a boarding school when Uncle Victor arrives. I heard Mum and Uncle Victor say theyll hand me over. I dont want to go; Mums house feels safe. Uncle Victor never calls me by my name. Youre kind, but Im not needed.
A pang of grief struck Evas heart. She wrapped her arms around his thin frame. Dont cry, dear Victor. I wont let anyone hurt you. Ill speak to your mother, and you can stay with me. Our school is good, the teachers are kind. Well pick mushrooms, berries, milk our cows. Youre skinny now, but a splash of fresh milk will give you strength. Dont believe me? Tomorrow Ill introduce you to Paulhes a solid lad, as steady as a loaf of bread. Will you trust me?
Victor clutched her neck, whispering, Ill try. You wont betray me?
Eva pressed a gentle kiss to his crown. Never.
Years slipped by. Eleanor, Victors aunt, visited now and then, bringing parcels, always hurrying off when her brother, Victors father, called. Nicholas appeared rarely, his visits thin and brief. Mollie, learning of Victors existence, blamed Eva, claiming the grandchildren werent hers, that she preferred strangers over blood.
Eva cared little for the accusations. The skinny boy shed once fed grew into a sturdy youth. Each morning she prepared his favourite dishes, peering through the kitchen window, hoping to catch a glimpse of his smile.
One day a young soldier in a crisp uniform knocked on the door. Granny, Im here. Where are you?
She threw herself into his arms, Victor, my dearest grandson!
Will you be going back to Mother? she asked.
He set his fork down, surprised, Which mother? The one who abandoned me and only sent trinkets once a year? No, I wont go.
My dear, youre my mother now, and thats not up for debate, he said, sitting down to eat.
Eva dabbed a stray tear from her cheek, grateful beyond words for the grandson who had become her anchor in old age. The kitchen smelled of rosemary and toast, the window framing a world that finally felt like home.
