Mother

Billy glanced about him before fixing Christopher with his green eyes. ‘All right. Can I have a lager please? Thanks.’

Leaving Billy to take off his jacket and settle in his seat, Christopher went to the bar and held up his hand, catching the barmaid’s attention almost immediately.

‘Hi there,’ he said, noticing this time the merest hint of a blush on the young woman’s face, the way her eyes widened a little at the sight of him. ‘Could you give me a pint of your strongest lager?’

The woman raised her eyebrows and cocked her head. ‘That’ll be the Grolsch. It’s expensive though.’

‘That’s perfectly all right. And a shot of vodka – a double – if you will, thank you.’

He turned to check on Billy, who was talking to a bald man with a pregnant-looking beer belly. He turned back and, with a wink at the barmaid, tipped the vodka into the lager and handed over the money.

As she returned the change, she let her fingertips linger a moment on the palm of his hand. ‘Know where I am if you need me.’

He smiled, almost winked. ‘I do indeed. Thank you.’

He checked the door. Still no sign of Rebecca. It was possible she wouldn’t come. He had been na?ve to think she would. He thought of the taxi money he had given her boyfriend or whoever he was. It had probably gone on a bottle of cider or an eighth of hash by now; he had been stupid to hand it over. He made his way back to Billy, excusing himself as he pushed past the bald man, who nodded at Billy and turned to rejoin his group of friends.

‘People are real friendly in England,’ Billy said. He took a long gulp of his beer and set it down. ‘Cheers. Thanks for the drink.’

He had not tasted the vodka – the strong lager had done its job.

‘Listen,’ Christopher began. ‘I know it must be a shock to you that Phyllis isn’t here. But the thing is, I need to come clean with you about some things and you’re going to have to listen until I get to the end.’

‘All right,’ Billy said. ‘Go ahead.’

Christopher pulled at his pint and set it down. Looked over towards the door and told himself to stop. If Rebecca came, she came. If not, he would still say what he had to say.

‘So. First thing is, after you left, I opened your letter and read it before I gave it to Phyllis.’

‘You had no right to do that,’ Billy interrupted. ‘You know that, don’t you?’

Christopher raised his hand. ‘Yes. And I’m sorry, but as I said, you have to listen to the end.’ He met Billy’s gaze and, seeing a flicker of assent, went on. ‘Phyllis suffers with nerves. I was worried the letter would upset her. I was right. It did.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that. But she wrote me back.’

‘I know. She made me read her letter, to make sure it was all right. I was the one who delivered it for her. I knew something had gone wrong, you see. Because years ago I traced Phyllis through the official channels. I went through Liverpool Council, the court overseeing the adoption and the Registrar. You’ve come over with a – and I’m not criticising you at all – a whole different approach and I think, in short-cutting the process, you haven’t arrived at the correct information.’

‘So what? You’re telling me I’m wrong?’

‘Wait. Please.’

‘No, you wait a second. You’re telling me you’re not my half-brother?’

Christopher had been about to argue back, but Billy’s words stopped him dead. ‘Your half-brother? Is that what you think? No. No, I’m… Look, let me explain in full and then we’ll do questions, all right?’

Billy opened his mouth to speak but appeared to think better of it. He nodded for Christopher to continue and picked up his glass.

‘All right,’ said Christopher, his heart thumping. ‘After we realised there’d been a mistake, I agreed with Phyllis that I’d investigate further and find out what had gone wrong. She was too upset to deal with it.’

‘But I saw the mother superior…’

Christopher raised his hand. ‘Please.’

‘I’m sorry, all right, go ahead.’ Billy took another long drink of his lager.

‘I realise you went to the convent. But I went there also. It was a simple mistake. Two sets of documents in the same file. You asked for your details, she pulled out mine. And that’s it.’

‘But I have the photograph.’

‘Of yourself and a nun. Sister Lawrence, who is now the mother superior. It doesn’t prove anything, not a thing. I’m sure it’s you, but there’s nothing on that photograph to say that your mother was Phyllis. What the mother superior didn’t realise when you went there is that there were two boys born the same day. I was one; you were the other. Your mother’s name is Rebecca.’

‘But I didn’t see any documents. There was just some ledger book. I had to show her my ID.’

‘Your name is Billy Hurst. Your mother’s name is Rebecca. Rebecca Hurst.’

‘Rebecca? What? That’s not possible!’

‘Wait. It’s not bad news – it’s different news. I know you think you’ve found your mother, and I’m here to tell you that you have. But it’s not Phyllis, that’s all. Listen, I have more to say. But first let me get you another pint.’

Billy appeared to calm down. He looked at his glass as if surprised to see he had emptied it. ‘It’s my turn.’

But Christopher had already stood up. ‘No, I insist. My town, my treat. Besides, I think the barmaid likes me.’ He winked at Billy, feeling himself blush at his own fraudulence. This wasn’t him. He had borrowed Adam’s personality, it seemed, to get him through. Chutzpah: so long a mystery, and now, in extremis, he had found it after all.

He ordered the same again for Billy, and for himself another bitter shandy – this time barely a splash of bitter in the lemonade – and returned to Billy.

‘The beer’s good here,’ said Billy. ‘Tasty, and, boy, I can already feel it.’

‘I’ll take you to the chippy after,’ said Christopher, acknowledging Billy’s attempt to break the tension – a good sign surely.

‘That’s the fish and chip shop, right?’

‘Indeed.’ Christopher raised his pint and they touched their glasses together.

‘You said you have more to tell me?’ Billy said.

‘That’s right.’ Christopher checked the door. Still no one. Where was she? Bloody drug-addled waste of life, could she not turn up for her own son? What a waste of space. ‘So I traced your mother, Rebecca. I knew you were short of time and I suppose I wanted to help. That’s not true, actually, I did want to help you but you must understand that sorting out this matter is of utmost urgency for me too. I mean, I live with Phyllis in her home. I’ve been with her for four years. She and I, we have a unique bond. We are close, we are—’

‘I get it,’ Billy said quietly. ‘I didn’t want to cause trouble. But I’m going to need proof.’

‘I have proof,’ said Christopher. ‘I have all the documentation. But I have more than that. I have your mother. I traced her. I found her parents, your grandparents. And I found her.’ He stopped, drank deeply. The next bit would be more difficult. If he hadn’t wanted Rebecca, there was every reason to suspect that neither would Billy.

‘She should be here by now,’ he said.

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