Ah, my son had turned up at the gate, and Eleanors eyes lit up with a sudden joy.
Nicholas fumbled with his hat as he stepped over the threshold. Good day, Mother, he said, pausing as if gathering his thoughts. Im not alone. He nudged a slight, bespectacled lad forward, a knapsack slung over his shoulders.
Oh dear, youve brought my grandchild, Eleanor gasped. Is he Thomas or Edward? I cant tell without his glasses.
Nicholas sank onto an old wooden chair. Put them on, then. This is Victor, my son born out of wedlock. Do you remember how Zena and I were apart for a year? It was during that time I fell in with Valerie, and Victor was the result. I foolishly put my name on his birth register, he sighed.
Eleanor snapped at him. What are you babbling about in front of a child? Hes far too young to know the mess of your life. She turned to Victor. Now, boy, go into the sittingroom and have a look at the television while I sort things out with your father.
Victor slipped away in silence. Eleanor leaned in, voice barely a whisper. Does Ethel know about him?
She never liked the wife of her son, Nicholas muttered, his brow furrowing.
Eleanors eyes narrowed. What, Mother? If shed found out shed have thrown us out long ago. I built this lad from the ground up with my own hands.
She let out a weary sigh. Youre a proper rogue, not a man at all. Youve been under Ethels thumb all your life, and now youve gone and fathered a child on the sidehow extraordinary. Why bring him here? If Ethel learns of this, Ill have no peace.
Nicholas, fidgeting, tried to explain. Valerie was about to marry a scoundrel and fled south for a month, then called me, saying Take the child wherever you like, even home. I told her Id gone madmy wife would drive us both out. She warned shed make my life difficult if I didnt comply. Ill give Ethel the birth certificate, and youll have to sort it out yourself. Thats the end of it for me. She barely forgave Valerie; they didnt speak for half a year. So I thought, let him stay with you a month, then Ill come back and collect him. He never lifted his eyes to his mothers face.
Eleanor shook her head. Thats how you were as a lad, and youve never changed. Whatever you do, Ill help. Where shall we put him? He isnt of our line, she hesitated. Are you certain hes yours?
Nicholas waved a hand. Hes mine, no doubt. Valerie isnt a saint, but Im a loyal wife.
A heavy silence fell. Eleanor sprang to her feet. Why am I just standing here? Lets at least get him something to eat.
Nicholas rose, apologising. Forgive me, Mother, but I must be off. Ethel is waiting at home, and Ive told her Im off to the city for supplies. Feed Victor, and Ill be gone.
Eleanor clasped her errant sons cheek and whispered, Go with God, my dear.
Victor ate quickly, never looking away from his plate. More, perhaps? Eleanor asked, pity thick in her voice as she watched him polish off the food.
No, thank you, he replied, rising from the table.
Take a walk outside while I finish dinner. Whats in that knapsack of yours? she inquired.
Just my things, he grumbled.
Will you wash them yourself, or shall I have to? Eleanor asked.
For the first time, fear flickered in his eyes. I cant. Mother always did the laundry.
Eleanor lifted his small pack. Off you go, then; Ill rinse what I can.
He stepped out, and she began sorting his modest belongings: two shirts, a pair of shorts, a couple of underpants. Not much, she mused, shaking her head. Even a warm jumper is missing. Typical motherless lot. She soaked the clothes in a basin and turned her attention to a cherry pie she was baking.
A sudden shout came from the lane. Eleanor dropped the dishcloth, hands still dusted with flour. Whats happened?
Victor returned, clutching his leg, tears streaming. A goose niped me. It hurts badly.
Eleanor knelt by him, eyeing the red sore. Why did you go near the geese? They were out grazing, and you were in the yard.
I just wanted to watch them, he sobbed.
Never have you seen geese before? she asked, surprised.
Ive seen them, but never got that close, he whispered.
Very well, lets get you into the house. Ill rub some ointment on that. She helped him inside, laid him on the settee, and found sleep eluding her long after dinner was cleared.
She thought of the life shed led, never sending her own child off to anothers care. What a tangled web, she muttered, recalling how her own mother would have never let her raise a lovers boy.
Hours later she heard a soft whimper. She tiptoed to Victors side. Whats the matter, lad? Not liking me? She soothed him. Wait a month, and Mother will fetch you back.
He lifted his head, eyes wide. She wont. I heard Uncle Victor and Aunt Margaret say theyd send me to a boarding school when they return. I dont want thatIm happy here with Mother. That Uncle Victor never calls me by my name. Youre kind, Grandmother, but Im not wanted.
Eleanors heart clenched. She gathered his thin frame in her arms. Dont weep, dear Victor. I wont let anyone hurt you. Shall I speak to your mother and keep you with me? We have a good school here, teachers, fields to roam, cows to milk. Youre slight now, but a splash of fresh milk will give you strength. Youll see tomorrow when I introduce you to our neighbour, Percy, a sturdy lad who loves milk as much as a scone loves tea. Will you stay?
He clutched her neck. I will. Will you keep your promise?
She pressed a gentle kiss to his crown. I promise, my child.
Years slipped by. Occasionally, Valerie visited, bringing parcels, always hurried off by Uncle Victor, who barked at her to leave. Nicholas appeared now and then, but seldom. Ethel, having learned of Victor, blamed not her husband but Eleanor, claiming she didnt need any grandchildren and preferred the odd ones out.
Eleanor paid it no mind. The skinny boy had grown into a sturdy youth. Each morning she prepared his favourite dishes and glanced out the window, hoping for a glimpse of his smile. One day, a young soldier entered the house, calling softly, Grandma, Im here, where are you?
She threw herself around his neck. Victor, my beloved grandson!
Will you be going back to Mother? she asked. He set his fork down, puzzled. Which Mother? The one who abandoned me and only brings trinkets once a year? No, I wont go. You are my mother, and thats settled, he answered, then resumed his meal calmly.
Eleanor wiped away a tear, heart swelling with gratitude that she still had a grandson to lean on in her twilight years. His blood ran in her veins, a true comfort and support.
