I took Mrs Johnson through to the kitchen.
“I’ll make some tea for us, you sit down bonny lass” – she said taking her coat off.
“Ah heard that your mum and dad had passed away, I’m sorry about that” – she said, rummaging through the cupboards to find what she needed.
I just sat speechless.
“Did yer Uncle Joe ever get married pet.” she asked, pouring the water into the pot. “Eeh I loved yer Uncle Joe.”
She went on- “he always made us laugh.”
She came and sat down beside me at the table and took hold of my hands.
“You where only 15 when you had your first baby”
She said- “It must have been very traumatic for you, to give her up like that; but we looked after her very well, and she was well loved and she had a good life”.
“Good life” I stammered still in shock and shaking with disbelief. She let go of my hands and picked up the pot of tea from the table and began to pour it into two mugs.
“Your little girl”-, she smiled – “she grew up to be a fine young woman.”
She grasped hold of my hands again and I began to scream inside.
A long silent scream so silently loud that I thought I would pass out. Mrs Johnson held me and fought back tears of her own.
“We called her autumn because of the time of year you left her with us.” she quickly said.
“It’s a secret that I can’t keep anymore Anna, a secret that we both have to face up to now.”
We began to talk and through tears I began to tell Mrs Johnson the whole story.
My mind went flooding back to the night my baby was born; it was a cold October night. No one in the family had ever suspected me of being pregnant, its amazing what a baggy cardigan can hide. I smiled as I remembered Uncle Joe telling me I was getting a right little tubby.
“You need more exercise.”- Young lady; Mother would say.
“You take after your granny champion, she was always on the heavy side of thin.” she would say undiplomatically.
“The father was a boy called Stephen Jenkins, he was a boy that I liked at the time.” I told her.
“He lived in Cawdor Street about two blocks from where I lived. He was just like any other boy looking back; except he made me laugh, like Uncle Joe. We where both just children of 14, it was a messy start to sex, a fumble at a school party that went to far, painful now as I remember and quick, nothing like what I thought it should have been. He never bothered with me after that night.”
“But as the weeks and months passed I knew that something was not right and it wasn’t long before I began to feel the baby inside of me kicking.” I paused to think for a moment.
“It was the 2nd of October 1956.” I went on. “mum and dad had gone out for the evening with uncle Joe and one of his lady friends; I had been feeling unwell all day with pains in my tummy, I never knew I was about to give birth to my secret.”
“Sex, even though I had done it, was still a mystery to me, stupidly I thought the baby would just stay in me until I was ready to have it, sometime in the future I thought, when I was older and married then no one could say anything about it. That’s how naive I was at fifteen.”
Mrs Johnson Just sat and listened intently to every word. Occasionally she would nod and smile.
“We had a wash room.” - I said, - “at the back of the kitchen with a large copper boiler init and an old mangle that mum used to squeeze the water from the bedding sheets;” - I smiled. - “That’s where she was born; on the floor of the wash room, a hot sweaty place with a cold stone floor, the air tasted of acdo, a wash powder that mum used to boil the white sheets in.”
I paused for a moment taking a deep breath.
“When she came I was scared it seemed to go on hours but she came quickly compared to charlotte, thank god, painfully but quickly without to much trouble.”
“You must have been terrified pet.” Mrs Johnson said.
“I lay there for sometime in the dark and the mess, just holding my baby, I was more scared that mum and dad would come home and find me.” I told her.
“So after some time I wrapped her in one of mother’s clean sheets and left by the back way. It was a cool night and I held her close to me for warmth, then I stopped for a while and looked at her tiny little face in the moonlight; it was all innocent and fresh; and she looked back at me trustingly if you know what I mean.” I told Mrs Johnson. She made no sound except for a slight murmur.
“I can’t keep you anymore” – I whispered to her, - “I want to but I can’t.”- I looked at Mrs Johnson. “You understand don’t you.” I asked squeezing her hand. She smiled and nodded.
“I noticed a light at the back window of a house on the other side of the back lane and saw a man through the window reading a newspaper. I knew you and Mr. Johnson had had lost your son Tommy three years before with meningitis.” I told her.
“I was sure you would look after her, I was sure; so I crept down the garden path and kissed my baby for the first and last time before carefully placing her on to the back step; then I knocked loudly on the door and ran from your garden.”
Mrs Johnson again smiled and nodded.
“I saw you that night Anna, I heard a loud knock and saw you running from our garden.”
She squeezed my hands a little harder.
“I was upstairs making the bed, in Tommy’s room, I always made his bed up,” – she smiled- “it’s something I could never stop doing even though I knew he would never come back to us.”
Her eyes welled with tears and she hesitated before her taking a small bottle of whiskey from her bag, which she began to pour into each of our cups.
“I think we both need this lass.” – She smiled placing the bottle back inside her bag.
“I used to come and look at her, in her pram outside your front door in the summer.” I choked.
“I know lass we often saw you pulling back the cover to have a peep.” That’s why we thought it better to move away.” She added. “To help you forget.”
“I never forgot her” - I quickly said. “How could you think that?”
She interrupted me by raising her hand. “I never meant it in that way Anna;” – she said quietly – “It just seemed the best thing to do at the time.”
I nodded approval, and took a sip of my tea. “Does she look like me?” I asked.
“She had you father’s eyes, lovely deep blue eyes.”- said Mrs Johnson – and a dimple in her chin just like you had as a bairn, I have some photos” – she said rummaging in her bag.
“No please”- I replied – “not yet, I’m not ready.”
Mrs Johnson took out a small black album and placed it onto the table in front me, it was bound shut with a pink ribbon worn and frayed around the edges.
“I’ll leave it there for you, when you’re ready, it’s yours to keep.” She smiled pushing the album towards me.
“Why now?” – I asked – “It’s been so long.”
Her face suddenly dropped and a deep sadness appeared in the corners of her eyes. Her voice faltered, choked with emotion at what she had to tell me.
“It’s not easy this Anna” – she said gripping my hand tighter –“losing our Tommy like we did and then.
And then her voice faded into the background and I felt detached almost from the whole scene, I knew what she was going to tell me but I didn’t want to hear it, I couldn’t bare the pain of it, my mind raced and my heart pounded so loud inside my chest I thought it would burst out and yet it was almost as if I had stopped breathing in anticipation of what was to come.
But then she said it. The word, dead, and a long almost animal sounding cry quietly filled the room. It was too much for me to take in, much, much too much.
Now sobbing I held on to Mrs Johnson.
“I suppose I deserve that for being such a bad person to her”. I cried full of self pity.
“You did what you thought was best pet and we never judged you for that.”- Mrs. Johnson told me sternly. “But I would never have come at all to put you through all this now if it wasn’t for unfolding events.”
“What unfolding events?” - I asked.-
“Autumn died in child birth Anna, the baby survived, She was born in the July and was named summer.” She smiled and continued.
“She always said she would call her summer, if it was a girl.”
“But that’s harry and charlotte” - I gasped. “And remembered what charlotte had written in her letter to me about Harry.
“Aye pet, the unfolding event I came to see you about.” Mrs Johnson said.
“When Harry told me who it was he was going to marry I just knew fate had lended us a hand.”
I stared at her in disbelief. “The baby” – I said quickly. – “I don’t think I could bear to see her, not now.”
Mrs Johnson cut in. “You will Anna, you have to.”- She went on. - I’m getting too old.”
“But I can’t.” I blurted. “I just can’t.”
Mrs Johnson looked into my eyes with a sadness that looked old and worn.” “You gave me a baby once to look after and cherish because you couldn’t Anna, you were too young.” – “Now I’m giving you a baby, your grandchild because I’m too old.” she said.
“Oh it will be Harry and Charlottes to bring up, but it will be you to watch over her, for the both of us like.”
This then appeared to be my fate and even though I felt I couldn’t do this I knew I had to.
“Did, did autumn ever know about me?” I asked half hoping she would say yes.
“No pet, but she’ll know now that’s for sure, and she will be looking down on you and hoping that you play a part in her daughters life; I’m sure of that.”
I smiled and thought that’s what dad would have said.
“We still have to keep the secret mind you.” – She said. “It’s for the best now.”
I nodded. “It’s a second chance.” I heard myself whisper –“a chance to make amends.”
I picked up the small photo album from the table. “I remember this ribbon I said, untying the album.”
“Aye lass, I saw you untie it from your hair one time and put it into the pram, autumn wore it on more than one occasion, and it’s on the photos inside. I always told her it was her mums.” She smiled.
“Thank you so much for being my daughter’s mother.” I cried putting my arms around her.”
Thank you for choosing me.” She whispered through her tears. “I always knew one day she would come home to you.” she said holding me tight. “I could always feel you calling to autumn.
“I was always calling to her.” - I said finally.
The End.