Is that really his mother, the snarling beastlike woman? she snarled.Her words, Youre my youthful mistake, still rang in his ears.
All Alex knew of himself was that he had been found, screaming with hunger and terror, on the doorstep of a babys home in a cramped Nottingham culdesac. The girls mother, perhaps the only scrap of conscience she possessed, bundled the infant in a warm blanket, wrapped a goathair scarf around him and slipped the wailing bundle into a cardboard box. She didnt want little Alex to freeze.
No birth certificate, no name, nothing at all. All that clutched in the childs tiny fist was a rather large silver pendant shaped like the letter A a keepsake, presumably, from his mother.
The pendant was no offtheshelf trinket; it bore the hallmark of a master jeweller, a oneoff piece that would have been listed in a ledger. The police, hoping the charm would lead them to the reckless, unmotherly woman, hit a dead end. The jeweller who fashioned it had died in his dotage, and his records were mysteriously missing.
The childrens home logged the infant simply as Alex Unknown. And so, the State added another official child to its rolls.
Alex spent his whole childhood in the home, fully supported by public funds, but starved of the love that only a parent can give. He dreamed, like any other orphan, of one day finding a mother and a father.
Something terrible must have happened for my mum to do this, he muttered, echoing the thoughts of every other misfortunate ward.
When he finally left the home for the real world, his matron hung the pendant on his neck and recounted its story.
So mum wanted me to be found later, eh? Alex asked.
Maybe, the matron suggested with a wink. Or perhaps you just yanked the thing off her neck by accident. Little ones love to grab. The pendant was jammed in your fist, no chain attached!
The State rewarded Alex with a modest council flat tiny, but his own. He enrolled at a local technical college, graduated, and got a job in a garage.
He met Poppy entirely by accident: they collided headfirst on a busy Oxford Street. First they bumped into each other, scattering the fashion magazines shed been clutching; then Alex lunged forward, apologising, and tripped over his own clumsiness, sending both of them sprawling. The impact sent sparks from their eyes and tears down their cheeks. They sat amid the startled crowd, strangers laughing at each other through the tears. In that moment Alex realised hed fallen irrevocably.
I must make amends for my clumsiness! Please, join me for a cuppa? he offered, halfembarrassed, halfhopeful.
Poppy, surprised at how easily she agreed, found his bearlike awkwardness oddly endearing, almost like a longlost sibling.
You know, Alex, I feel like Ive known you forever! she declared after only five minutes of chatter.
No way! I feel the same! he replied.
They began dating, their affection so intense that they never went a minute without a call or a text. If Alex ever nicked a finger or cracked a knuckle at work, Poppy was the first to ring, asking if he was alright.
Youre me, and Im you. I think youre my destiny! Alex told her one evening. Its a shame I cant introduce you to my parents as my fiancée I have none.
But youve got me! Poppy beamed. Im sure my parents will like you.
One afternoon, Poppys mother, Lydie Hawkins, a formidable woman with a voice that could cut glass, burst into the kitchen, clutching her chest. Hes a childrens home boy? Are you out of your mind? Theyre all nasty, unsocialised! she shrieked, flopping into the leather armchair.
Mother, Alex is a good, cheerful lad! You cant paint everyone with the same brush! Poppy pleaded.
Exactly, dear! Before you judge a man, you ought to meet him and have a chat. Bring him over, well see what this Alex from the childrens home is made of, intervened her husband, Ian Roberts, a senior HR officer, with a calm grin.
Dave! You dont understand! We raised our daughter to marry someone with a proper lineage, not some streetkid! What if his parents are questionable? Lydie wailed.
Lets sort it out when we see him, Ian muttered, his brow furrowing.
Lydie, defeated, trudged back to her bedroom, slamming the door with a thud.
Ian gave Poppy a conspiratorial wink. Dont worry, love, well get through this.
Thanks, Dad! she giggled, planting a quick kiss on his cheek. So, Im inviting Alex over on Saturday, right?
Of course! Im curious to see who has stolen my only daughters heart.
On the appointed Saturday, Alex arrived tidy, nervous, two bouquets in hand (one for Poppy, one for his future motherinlaw) and a slice of Victoria sponge tucked under his arm. Poppy ushered him into the kitchen.
Mum, Dad, meet my Alex! she announced.
Ian shook Alexs hand, Lydie accepted the flowers, then went as white as a wedding cake. She seemed to lose her voice for a moment.
Recovering, she gestured everyone to the table.
Sorry, I just got a bit carried away, she explained, blushing.
Over lunch, Lydie, eyes flicking to the pendant, asked, Alex, thats a rather unique piece of jewellery. Not a massproduced trinket, I see.
Its the only thing I have from my mother. When they found me on the doorstep of the childrens home, I clutched it in my fist, he replied.
Lydie stayed silent for the rest of the meal, pushing peas around her plate with a melancholy sigh. Ian, meanwhile, discovered plenty of common ground with his new soninlaw: football, skiing, and fishing.
Splendid lad! Ian praised as Alex left.
What a splendid lad? Lydie snapped, her tone suddenly sharp. No upbringing, no manners, a cheeky little
Lydie, whats the matter? Has he done something to you? Ian asked, bewildered.
Lydie, unmoved, turned to Poppy and declared, You must break it off with him. Immediately!
She retreated to her room, door slamming behind her.
What now? How could this happen? Two strangers meeting under the same sky on this massive earth? Alex thought, eyes brimming as he stared at an old photograph hidden behind the glass doors of the bookcase. In the blackandwhite picture, a youthful Lydie posed proudly, a matching A pendant glinting on her neck the very same one Alex wore.
So I didnt lose it after all. This little scamp must have ripped it off! she mused, pocketing the photo. I cant let Ian and Poppy see this now. I need a plan.
Lydie lay awake all night. The only sensible idea that surfaced was to persuade Alex to leave town forever.
Dear, could you give me Alexs number? I I need to apologise to him properly, she whispered into the phone.
Poppy, none the wiser, happily scribbled down Alexs number and, buoyed by a sunny mood, flounced out of the house.
Alone, Lydie dialled Alexs number.
Alex, hello! Could you swing by this afternoon? Maybe an hour later? she asked.
Certainly! Ill be there, he replied.
An hour later, Alex stood like a nervous brigadier on Poppys front step. Lydie opened the door, eyes rimmed with tears, voice trembling.
We need to talk, she said, ushering him into the sitting room.
Alex, you must break up with Poppy. Its my secret. Swear you wont tell my daughter or my husband, she pleaded.
Alright, I swear! Alex blurted, his legs shaking.
Alex, Poppy shes my sister! Lydie announced, thrusting a photograph of herself wearing the pendant into his hands.
Mother? Alex gasped, eyes welling. And my father?
Lydie shook her head. No, Ian isnt your father. I was with Dave years ago. He went off to a military academy. I was foolish and young. When I found out I was pregnant, he left. I never told anyone. My belly grew, I moved to another city to stay with my mother, claimed the baby was stillborn, and left you on that doorstep. Then I returned, married Ian a few months later.
And me? Alex choked. What am I to you, Mother?
Youre my youthful mistake, she spat, voice cracking. You werent meant to be here. You arrived uninvited, and now youre a nuisance. Leave! Disappear! Give my family peace!
Alex could only stand there, hollowed by the revelation.
Is this really the woman you called mother? he whispered, the words echoing the earlier accusation.
Lydie, trembling, finally said, Ill tell your real father everything.
Alex sighed, rose from the sofa, and said, Goodbye, Lydie. I wont betray a secret.
Fine, Ill tell my husband! a disembodied voice shouted from the hallway.
Both Alex and Lydie flinched as Poppy, arms crossed, stepped into the doorway, eyes blazing with fury.
I always thought you were a decent person, Mother youre a disgrace! she shouted.
Sorry, sis! Alex mumbled, bowing his head, tears slipping unnoticed.
He fled, feeling like a bursting bubble, wanting to vanish completely.
A few days later Alex enlisted at the local recruitment centre, signing up for a stint overseas. Ian and Poppy came to see him off. Ian gave him a firm, brotherly hug.
Stay safe, lad. Remember, were your family now. Come back to us, he said.
Poppy wrapped her arms around Alex, whispering in his ear, Come back, brother. We love you.
For the first time, Alex felt warmth in his chest. Though his mother had vanished, he now had a father and a sister. He only regretted that his affection for Poppy had outshone any sibling bond.
Lydie was left alone. Ian, fed up with her melodrama, ended their marriage, citing her horrendous act. She continued to blame Alex for constantly turning up at the wrong time.
The End.