Charles’ surprisingly successful booklets about the bird life of the estuary had given him a career. He had sighted some rare species and had hopes of others. He had a recorded spotting of a Great Snipe in October 1957 and it was that that had sparked his interest in birds. He really wanted to see a gull-billed tern, an ambition finally fulfilled one hot August day 19 years later. His bird reports had a good following and he got a spot in the local newspapers. He was becoming quite well known and in early 1968 he had been asked to record a programme for the BBC. His gentleness and complete lack of ostentation made him an instant hit with listeners and by 1970 he was a regular contributor to many BBC nature programmes – on radio and television.
One of the regional newspapers had arranged a day of seminars to be held early in July 1970 to be given by local academics – not just people from the university but people who had links with the area from a wide variety of backgrounds and covering a wide variety of fields. Amongst those invited to give talks at the Liverpool Philharmonic Hall were two young men both making their reputations on radio and television, Charles Donaldson, local ornithologist and Carl Witherby, originally from the Wirral but now an increasingly popular national television historian.
By lunchtime on July 7th Charles had given his talk and was waiting for a taxi in the foyer. Carl, sitting next to him, was deciding whether to go straight back down south or spend some time with the Forsters, who were now living back in the Wirral. The two men were both reading The Guardian and had cast no more than a casual glance at each other.
They hadn’t recognised each other. Why would they? It had been a long time.
“Carl, are you OK? Do you need anything?” Amanda, a secretary at the paper was making sure one of the guests assigned to her was comfortable. She noticed the man sitting next to him “Ah Charles. Have you two met? Carl this is Charles Donaldson, the ornithologist. He’s been giving one of his wonderful talks on the recent rare bird sightings on Hilbre Island. Charles – this is Carl Witherby, you know the budding young historian, he’s ...”
Carl interrupted her “Hello Charles”
“Carl. ‘Long time no see’ as they say.”
“You know each other – how marvellous!”
“Not necessarily. Is it marvellous Charles? How long’s it been?”
“The Winter Gardens, May 1963”
“Saturday May 18th 1963 at about 10 o’clock in the evening to be precise.”
Amanda was beginning to realise there were some serious undertones to this conversation and she was out of her depth. It was not just a fortuitous meeting between old friends.
“I don’t suppose you are going to forget that.”
“No I don’t suppose I ever will.”
“Come on you two” Amanda tried to ease the tension “whatever it was it was a long time ago – you must both have been children then – come on let’s all go for a drink. It’s still early but I think you both need a drink – I know I do!”
“Yes, why don’t we Carl – we’ve a lot of catching up to do.”
There was quiet reluctance in Carl’s voice as he agreed. “I suppose we have to start somewhere.”
So Amanda shepherded the two to the pub over the road and bought the first round of drinks.
By the second round the older man had relaxed. He was confident in his life, ‘content’ as Max would say, but unused to beer at lunchtime.
“You won’t believe this,” he turned to Amanda
“No, Charles.” There was warning in Carl’s tone but Charles continued regardless.
“Carl and I are brothers.”
Amanda showed shock and delight all in one movement.
“How fantastic! That’s absolutely fab!”
“Half brothers. We aren’t brothers – only half brothers – we share – if that’s the right word – a father.” Carl tried to correct things.
“So it’s complicated.” Amanda said slowly, “Wonderful! What a fab story!”
“No!” they both shouted at the same moment. That probably broke the ice between them. They had a mutual cause now, they were on the same side against Amanda.
She looked from one to the other. Charles the older was traditionally dressed in suit and paisley tie whereas Carl wore jeans with a black polo neck sweater and a leather jacket. Charles’ hair was cut short, a traditional short back and sides where Carl’s long hair was tied back in a pony tail. But there was a real similarity between them. Their hair was the same dark brown, their eyes the same deep blue. She decided to leave them to it.
“Don’t go.” Charles put his hand out as Carl got up to leave with Amanda. “Stay. Let’s talk.”
It took a few moments to confirm after Amanda had gone, but they both knew Carl would stay.
“You still live in Hoylake?”
“Yes I do, still, funnily enough, still at Sandhey. And you?”
“Cambridge, just outside actually. It’s not so easy a drive. I’m staying at the Adelphi. Should we go back there, have something to eat? I think perhaps we need to talk. Maybe we’ve met like this for a reason.”
Carl wanted to find out about Susannah, he needed to know how she was as he hadn’t heard any news for a couple of years, since his autumn in Bookham. Charles’s motives were rather less clear. Perhaps he was just curious, perhaps he wanted to try to sort things out, perhaps he felt responsible.
As they got back to the hotel Charles saw a young woman leaving the hotel with a man he recognised. He didn’t say anything. He couldn’t think of any good reason why she would be in Liverpool on a Tuesday lunchtime.
After they had ordered their meals Charles opened the conversation.
“Did you marry?”
“No. Far too young yet.”
“What you mean is no one came close to Susannah.”
“No one came close to Susannah.” He agreed flatly. “How is she?” No point in hedging around the subject.
“Difficult to say.” No point in being dishonest.
“When did you last see her?”
“The day before yesterday actually, it was her youngest’s first birthday. They had a small party.”
“Her youngest? How many children has she got?”
“Four.”
“Shit.”
Charles deliberately misunderstood “Yes, that’s what we all think actually. He is a bit of a shit.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it. But is he?”
“Absolutely. Did you hear how they got together?”
“No – just that they did, and it must have been bloody soon after I had – gone”
As they ate their meal Charles told Carl details that he had not known. It hurt, but he had imagined things far worse.
“How are they? I mean are they happy?”
“No. Sorry, I’d love to say they are but it’s pretty obvious they aren’t – at least Susannah isn’t – Joe’s as happy as a sand boy. He’s got absolutely everything he could want – a wife, children, a home and a job – none of which he could possibly have had if he hadn’t got Susannah pregnant. No he’s fine and dandy, it’s Susannah we’re all worried about.”
“Worried about?”
Charles told him about the birthday party and the tensions and something of Susannah’s obvious pain and loneliness.
“Why haven’t you done anything about it? Why haven’t you got her away from him? Why have you all just sat there and make her put up with it? I can’t believe you’ve just left her to it!”
“We didn’t do anything because, until last Saturday, we had no idea how bad it was. She has always, always, put on a brave face.”
“For Christ’s sake Charles, couldn’t you stop him or something? Four children and she’s not 24 yet!”
“It was her decision.”
“No. It was not. It was her family’s. It was yours and mine and Arnold’s and Kathleen’s, and yes, and Alicia’s – the only person who has had no say in it at all is her. Christ what was she when she married? 16? 17? They all – you all – we all should have known better.”
People were looking at them.
Charles tried to calm him down so he changed the subject by asking Carl what he had been ‘up to’ in the intervening years and was rewarded by a brief summary of life with the Forsters, his degree years in Sussex, his lecturing at Cambridge. Carl ended up thoughtfully. “Funny that – us both writing books and being on the radio.”
“Perhaps there’s more to this ‘inheritance over environment’ stuff than meets the eye!”
They relaxed again as the coffee was poured.
“I met your mother you know.” Carl decided to stray onto dangerous territory.
“Oh yes? When? What was she up to?”
He didn’t answer directly “In Leatherhead, I went travelling after finals, to Spain, and when I got back I decided I would find her to check that Susie really was my sister. Silly really. Anyway I did find her eventually.
“And....”
“And she told me that Susie and I don’t share one parent, let alone two. After all that shit and bollocks we aren’t related at all.”
“What?” Charles was clearly stunned.
“You don’t know?”
“Absolutely not! She must be your sister – you’re definitely my brother, Arnold’s son, aren’t you?”
“In a nutshell then – my parents are Kathleen and Arnold. Susannah’s parents are Alicia and Henry.”
That was greeted by the shocked silence Carl had hoped for when he had dreamed of telling someone in the family the truths he had known since that dreadful trip to London on Alicia’s birthday nearly three years earlier.
“How the hell?”
“To cut a long, and not very pretty, story short Henry raped Alicia when his wife, Kathleen, was carrying Arnold’s child – me.”
He fleshed out some of the details – he had forgotten nothing that Alicia had said to him but he was definitely not going to tell Charles everything. The restaurant was emptying – they were alone.
“God almighty! I knew they were all a bunch of selfish shits but I didn’t realise…”
“Anyway – the day after you saw Susie and me in that bloody cinema Kathleen and Arnold rang Alicia. I don’t think they knew who Susie’s father really was – I think they thought she had sex with both of them.”
“Good God!”
“Anyway they phoned Alicia. Who lied. She said Arnold was Susannah’s father. She lied quite deliberately.”
“And because of that lie Susannah married Joe, you went off to god-knows-where and nobody lived happily ever after.”
“Pretty much.”
“Shit.”
“Yes, she was wasn’t she?” It was Carl’s turn to deliberately misunderstand.
“Well what are we going to do about it?”
“Nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing. We can do absolutely fucking nothing to put past wrongs right.”
“I suppose she needs to know but it can’t help her now.”
“Well, Arnold is dead. Alicia’s very ill – probably not got long.” He was matter of fact though it was his brother’s mother he was talking about. “Henry’s dead and Kathleen has probably made her own life – nothing’s been heard of her since Arnold’s funeral.”
“So if anything’s going to be done it has to be....”
“....while we’ve still got Alicia with us.” Carl finished for him.
“If we don’t have one of them to tell the truth – sign an affidavit or something in front of a solicitor – then nothing can be proved. Where is she?”
“I don’t know – I used to but I know she’s moved – but we both know a man who will.”
“Ted! Of course! Funny how he always gets involved in this family. And I know where to find him.”
“Do you go alone or do we go together?”
“A united front I think. Do you have to get back to Cambridge now or could you stay up a day or so?”
“I don’t have to be anywhere for a few weeks actually. I’m on vacation – supposed to be heading off to Italy in a few days but nothing is cast in concrete. I can stay up – of course I can – this is far too important – for Susie.”
The two men drained their cups. “Yes. Let’s.” And they walked quickly together out of the bar, through the foyer, practically knocking over a young girl as they pushed through the crowd “I beg your pardon.”
“Wow! That’s real polite.” A sarcastic American voice was lost on them as they had already pushed through the revolving doors to run down the steps and grabbed the pale green taxi that was just about to leave from the bottom of the steps.
As they settled back Charles said with uncharacteristic mischief “You really will never guess where he’s living!”