As she entered the crescent, it was apparent little had changed when so much of her life had. The house hadn’t altered. The property’s proportions were all the same; the flower borders of the front gardens were boasting the same blooms they had all those years ago. More than likely nearly everyone in this affluent part of Owerdale was in the same house they were a decade ago, the opportunities to move here few and far between. Not that Dawn wanted to move here or would ever have the kind of money required. It was just sometimes it was wise to keep an eye on the past.
As it was, she knew the children she’d once played with were now adults like her and had long since moved out. So there was no danger of finding Caitlin here, or at least she hoped not. It would be just her luck if she was popping by. Not able to worry about whether this was the right time to call, as there was no way she was going to come here again, she rang the doorbell and waited for an answer, hoping it would be the right person.
It was Friday morning and she’d left Archie with his Auntie Rebekah after he’d developed an unprecedented level of excitement at sharing his other meerkat DVDs with Harry. It was a quiet relief to be able to leave him and carry on with this errand.
While she wanted to remain practical about it, the past was too close for comfort here with every step she took. The wooden doorframe with the kingfisher glass panel was unchanged. She’d often wondered if she’d started coming here more often to be with her college friend, or for him. What started as one thing had eventually turned into another at such a dawdling pace she’d not noticed until it was too late and she was well and truly entranced.
It was the humour she’d noticed first. The ability to make up a joke in the quickest, wittiest way that never failed to make her laugh. The smile that captured her when he laughed at her jokes. Those shared moments when no one else mattered. At some point, it had started to do things to her insides and the visits had shifted to her being more interested in seeing him than her friend. And it wasn’t her brother, as Caitlin had concluded: it was her father.
He’d been made redundant and was spending a few months enjoying the redundancy package before searching for another job. ‘When in life do you ever get the chance of a break? Never, so I’m not waiting until my retirement to have one. I’m having it now. If I had the money, I’d travel the world.’
He always said it with such a twinkle in his eye she believed he meant with her. He said so many things that made the world seem so much more awesome than it really was. It was a spell she was under and was powerless to break. He was old enough to be her father – of course he was, given that he was Caitlin’s dad – and he was married. But, despite all those things, it still happened.
As she waited on the doorstep, no longer certain she wanted to see what a decade of regret might have done to a person, she recalled how those fleeting glances had grown to so much more. His offer to help them video a project they were working on was the start of it. The film only needed to be a couple of minutes long, but they wanted it to be perfect. The subject was saving water in the home and it needed to be informative as well as fun. So Caitlin and Dawn went round Caitlin’s house filming snippets. It was Shaun who’d suggested setting the cameras up at different points and speeding the film up. It would be an effective way to demonstrate potential water wastage. It also meant more trips to the house.
A small shudder crept along Dawn’s back. It seemed so pathetic now. She’d never been out on a date and she’d ended up pregnant. But she wasn’t blameless in that. She’d started turning up early, knowing he would be home alone. She’d found opportunities and excuses to see him. She longed to be captured in his arms.
It was a shock when it happened. Far more intense than what she’d imagined. Not that he hadn’t been gentle and kind and careful, but it was nothing compared to how she’d dreamed it would be. It was over and done with too quickly and with equal speed they’d both realised it was a mistake. Whatever it was they’d been lusting after was gone in a minute, and with it came consequences far more magnificent than the act they’d indulged in.
After that Dawn didn’t go back to the house. She’d keep herself busy, citing reasons as to why she couldn’t come over. She’d been young and naïve in so many ways, most notably with the changes occurring in her body. The periods that dried up, the soreness of her breasts, the swell of her belly. They’d used a condom. It was the one thing neither of them questioned. So believing there was no risk of a baby, all those symptoms by themselves were easy to ignore. It wasn’t a possibility.
Dawn’s mum knew before she did. It was part of the reason their rift was so wide now, and neither mother nor daughter had visited the other much since her mum scarpered to Spain. She hadn’t for one moment believed her daughter was oblivious to the fact she was six months-plus pregnant when she dragged her to the doctor for confirmation. Her mum had made her views on what she should do very clear. She didn’t want her to keep Archie.
But Dawn was never going to let that happen. She might not have had long to adjust to the fact she was going to be a parent, and perhaps not in the best of circumstances, but the concept of handing her baby over to someone else wasn’t one that appealed to her. It was a trying few months when, rather than look after her daughter and grandson at home, her mother made every effort to make sure they were rehomed so she could head off on her own adventure.
The fact she wouldn’t let on who the father was made matters worse. Her mother wanted someone to blame, believing her daughter to be innocent. But Dawn knew she wasn’t as innocent as her mother thought and it had been a moment in time. One that would be enough to ruin a family if they’d found out. She’d known that when it happened, and the truth was it wasn’t worth getting anyone into trouble for. The lust that had existed within her had evaporated with the reality of what they were doing. That was until several months later and she was expecting a baby.
But it didn’t change the fact that she would be risking the end of her friend’s family. So when her mum took her out of sixth form, she didn’t complain, and nor did she tell her mother who the father was. It was a stand-off that had lasted an entire decade.
When he opened the door there was a lack of recognition on both their parts. A decade did a lot to change a person. Shaun’s formerly full head of hair was now shiny and bald and his slender figure was no more; instead his cheeks were swollen and his belly pushing the restraints of his jogging bottoms.
‘Chemo.’ Dawn said it aloud, not having meant to, but the shock of seeing him so changed was so unexpected. What a time to walk in on his life.
‘Dawn,’ he said, recognising who was on the doorstep. She was different as well. A woman rather than a girl.
‘Wow.’ This wasn’t going like she’d expected. There was far too much to take in and process and she’d not even crossed the threshold, not that Shaun was showing any signs she was welcome, which was understandable.
‘Did you want to see Caitlin? She said she’d seen you. That you’d had a baby at a similar time to her. She’s not here, but I can give you her number.’
Caitlin’s number was already in her contacts list. It was the one she’d been trying not to use because of the past she’d been avoiding. Because her friend had got it all wrong. ‘I’m here to see you.’
‘Oh.’
‘I can pop by another time if now isn’t convenient?’ Dawn had no idea if anyone else was in. Caitlin might not be, but his wife or son could be. If she was going to tell Shaun, it was up to him if he told the rest of his family.
‘It’s fine. The district nurse is due to come and see me in about half an hour, though. That’s who I thought was at the door.’
Shaun let her in and she wondered if he had any inkling of what she was going to tell him.
The house was unchanged. There hadn’t been any interior design teams in here since she’d last been and it was eerily familiar.
They sat in the front room. The only things to have altered in here were an upgrade to the TV and sofas. On the sideboard, there was box upon box of medication and dressings.
‘How’s the treatment going?’ Dawn asked, not ready to plunge into “you have a son I’ve been keeping a secret” quite yet.
‘It’s terminal,’ Shaun said, very matter-of-fact. ‘It’s my third battle and it’s quite nice to be able to bow out gracefully this time.’
‘But…’ Any words dried up in Dawn’s throat. She knew the world moved on; she’d expected divorce or a new house or any number of things. But not death. That was for in twenty years’ time when he was old. And of course he was older, but not so old that such a thing would be imminent. ‘How long?’
‘Is a piece of string?’ Shaun shrugged his shoulders. ‘They said two months. This is number four.’
‘So…’ Again Dawn started a sentence she couldn’t finish. If she said out loud he could die any day now she was scared it might come true. ‘How do you feel?’
‘I can still walk. I can still eat. I can still watch an excessive amount of TV. I’ll live a bit longer yet.’
‘Good,’ Dawn said, finding nothing more adequate to say. She wanted to ask him if he ever did get round to travelling the world like he said he would. Or if he’d been happy with his life here in Owerdale.
‘So why did you want to see me? Did Caitlin tell you there wasn’t much time left?’
Despite the changes in him, Dawn still recognised those sparkling grey eyes. The looks she’d been so captured by in the past.
‘I didn’t know… about this,’ she said, glancing at the medical paraphernalia round the room.
‘I made it hard for you to still be friends with Caitlin. I’m sorry about that.’
‘You didn’t. It wasn’t like that.’
‘I’ve always wondered about you over the years. Worried we’d done something we never should have. I’ve always been grateful to you for not saying anything, but it shouldn’t have ended like it did. I’m glad you’re here. It’s always felt like unfinished business.’
Unfinished was certainly a good way to describe it. And seeing Shaun here now, it was possible the news had the potential to finish him. The shock might be too much, given the state of his health.
‘Is he mine?’ Shaun asked before Dawn mustered the courage to tell him.
Dawn nodded, not able to find her voice. Was it so hard to realise that he might have known? Caitlin would have told him the reason she’d left sixth form so abruptly was because she’d had a baby. The rumours would have reached here. It wouldn’t have taken the boldest bit of maths to work out the possibilities.
‘What’s his name?’
A lump in her throat was so overbearing it was hard to push past it. The reasons for never telling anyone now seemed so flimsy and inadequate. Because being brave enough was coming too late. With minus two months left, Archie was never going to know his father in the way she would have wanted him to. ‘Archie,’ she managed.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
Dawn started to cry. They were the uncontrollable-type tears that had taken her by surprise since Harry’s birth, and thinking about him felt like another reason to blub. ‘There’s so much to explain,’ she said, not sure if there was enough time to say everything before the district nurse arrived. But then if she didn’t tell him now, would she ever get the opportunity again?
‘Try,’ Shaun said, perhaps thinking the same.
Dawn gulped down her tears and tried to get a grip. ‘After, when it was over, I didn’t know. We’d been careful so it didn’t cross my mind. It was my mum who realised and dragged me to the doctor. I was so shocked and nearly seven months pregnant by that point. What we’d had was already over and I was going to cause a lot of trouble for you if anyone found out. That was true before I knew Archie even existed so it didn’t change because of him. My mum wanted blood. She would have had it if I’d told her, so I never told anyone. I’ve kept it to myself all these years.’
It was hard finding that something that had once felt like the right thing to do now felt so wrong. She’d deprived a father of a son and a son of a father.
‘I’d like to meet him,’ Shaun said. ‘You don’t have to tell him who I am, but I’d like to see him at least.’
Dawn nodded. ‘I’m sorry you won’t ever get to know him.’ It was all she was able to summon in the way of an apology. There was no fixing this. She couldn’t rewind the years or gift him more time.
‘You did what you thought was right. I’ve had a very happy family life. I have three grandchildren. I might never have experienced those things in the way I have if you’d decided to do things differently. You don’t need to say sorry. I need to say thank you for being so brave.’
Dawn didn’t feel particularly brave at this point in time. She’d always wanted to do right by her boy and was scared all this time she’d done everything wrong. Depriving him of a father, causing a rift with her mother that seemed so unbridgeable they’d never get past it. If anything, Dawn had been stupid, a kid trying to make adult decisions when becoming a mother had been thrust upon her. ‘Are you able to get out of the house?’ It would be an unconventional meeting, but it would be the easiest way for it to happen without complicated explanations.
‘I potter in the garden. Any further and I have to take the wheelchair.’
‘We go to Owerdale Zoo every Saturday morning. Archie’s obsessed with the meerkats so we’re at their enclosure by ten, usually for an hour or so. If you want to see him he’ll be there. And if you want to meet him just ask him some questions about the meerkats. He’ll happily chat about them for hours.’ Dawn didn’t know if it would be possible. As he’d need to use his wheelchair she suspected he’d need help and arranging that might take some explaining.
Those were all things for Shaun to decide. But for every Saturday that was left in his life, there was an opportunity to see his son.
‘I’ll be there,’ he said as the doorbell went, signalling an end to their time together.
‘See you then.’
It was an inadequate way to end the encounter. It didn’t speak for the years in-between or the decisions that had been made. And Dawn now knew Archie would never know his father in the way she’d thought might be possible until she’d come here today.
All of life was moving on, so why did it feel like she was the only thing that wasn’t? She’d been defined by the past for too long.