‘What?’ I was blind-sided for a moment. Dad had found it difficult to talk about Mum since she’d moved into the care home – he missed her so deeply he usually found it easier to simply avoid talking about her altogether rather than thinking about how much she’d changed. But now he’d brought her up twice in as many visits.
‘Your mother wasn’t the tidiest person in the world, as you know, but she was a stickler for cleanliness. She’d be furious at me if she could see this mess.’
‘Dad, it’s more than just a mess. You know that, right?’
‘Yes, yes, of course. But it’s nothing I can’t sort out.’ He sighed, as though exhausted by it all. ‘Your mother would have simply thrown everything in the bin.’
‘She would.’ I smiled, then took a deep breath. It was now or never. ‘I went to see Mum a couple of days ago.’
‘And how was she?’ His voice was even but I could see it hurt him to talk about her.
‘She was okay. She was—’ I stopped. ‘She was a bit confused.’
‘Oh dear.’ He steepled his fingers beneath his chin and studied me. ‘Did something happen love? Come on, it’s obvious you’ve got something to say, so spit it out.’
He was right. It was time to stop pussyfooting about.
‘Dad, do you know who Johnny is?’
I didn’t know what reaction I expected, but as I watched what little colour there was left in Dad’s face drain away, I realised it wasn’t this. I’d expected a straight-forward no, or a denial of some sort. Not this look of horror.
‘Dad?’
He looked up at me, his eyes heavy. ‘Has your mother been talking about him?’ His voice was a hoarse whisper.
‘Yes.’
He hung his head. ‘I’m surprised it’s taken this long.’ He snapped his head up again. ‘You haven’t been playing her music again have you?’
‘I have,’ I admitted.
He shook his head. ‘I knew, when you said you were going to try this music therapy business that something like this might happen.’ He sighed. ‘Although she gets confused, your mother has always known she loves me, even when she doesn’t recognise me. All these years of her mind deteriorating and I’d been expecting her to remember Johnny, and to ask me why it was me visiting her and not him. But it hasn’t happened. Until now.’
‘Oh Dad, I’m sorry.’
He shook his head. ‘It’s not your fault. It was bound to happen.’ He looked up again. ‘Anyway, I don’t suppose it really matters. Not to your mother, at least. She probably won’t remember him again by tomorrow.’
‘But it matters to you?’
He nodded. ‘I suppose it does. What did she say about him exactly?’
How much should I tell him? It was clear that he knew about Mum and Johnny, and that he knew Mum had loved him. But how much had she actually told him?
‘She said she loved him, before you and her met.’
He nodded slowly. ‘She did.’ I waited for him to continue, not wanting to push him too much. ‘I always knew she loved him more than she loved me.’ His breathing was heavy. ‘But her father didn’t want her to marry someone like him.’
‘Like him?’
‘He didn’t have a good job; a labourer I think. Her father wanted her to marry someone with prospects. Someone who could give her a good life. I met her at work shortly before she ended it with Johnny, and we became friends. We’d go for walks together at lunchtime and she’d talk about him, how happy he made her, how he wanted her to marry him. And then – well, her father gave her an ultimatum. Leave Johnny, or move out. She left him but I could see how heartbroken she was when she made her choice.’ He sighed heavily. ‘I always wondered whether I was just in the right place at the right time.’
‘But Mum loves you, Dad.’
He nodded. ‘Oh I have no doubt of that. I loved her instantly. I mean, who could fail to fall in love with her? She was so bright, so vivacious, so full of fun. She shone everywhere she went.’ His eyes were wet now, lost in the past. ‘And even though I knew she didn’t love me in the way she’d loved Johnny, I tried to forget that, and tried to give her the best life I could. Over time, she did love me. I have no doubt of that. But it wasn’t the kind of love to set the world on fire.’ His voice trailed off now and I swallowed. Bob Dylan still played gently in the background and we both sat and listened for a few moments, remembering, perhaps, the times this had played over the years when we’d all been here together, a happy family. But had my childhood been one big lie? How many people had been hurt by this decision? How different would Mum’s life have been if she had been allowed to follow her heart?
‘I’m sorry Dad.’
‘It’s okay Reeny. It’s surprisingly good to tell you about it after all this time.’ He smiled weakly and I reached over and held his hand. He looked down. ‘When your mother told me she was pregnant, I was the happiest man alive you know.’ He sniffed. ‘When she told me, I knew right then that everything would be okay. That Penny would never leave me, and that we’d make a perfect little family for ourselves.’ He looked up at me. ‘I always wanted to give you a brother or sister but in the end it was just the three of us. I think—’ He stopped. ‘I think your mother wanted to give herself options. I think she felt so much love for you, she didn’t dare to have another child, in case she ever wanted to leave.’
