47

‘And then what happened?’ asks Stephanie, two days after Aunt Viv told me she was my mother. ‘After Matthew slammed the door and left.’

‘I asked her for an explanation.’

‘I can see you’re upset. Are you ready to go on?’

I nod. ‘Aunt Viv explained that the day she’d had the crash I was on the backseat, next to my baby brother, Sam. Sam was two; I was five months old. My brother was killed outright. Aunt Viv’s brother was taken to hospital but he died the following day. The car had rolled over. It was miraculous that both Aunt Viv and I survived with barely any scratches. She was driving Sam to nursery, hammered, but she always hid it well, us addicts do. The rest you can imagine. My mother …’ I press my head into my hands. ‘My aunt never forgave Aunt Viv, she told her she wasn’t fit to be a mother so she adopted me. Aunt Viv went to prison and here I am, telling the tale.’

‘Polly, your anger is understandable.’

‘I’ve been living a lie all my life. My biological dad was an addict too, some rich playboy. Money had done him no favours. He left Aunt Viv the moment she was pregnant. What chance did I have? Two parents, both as bad as each other. At least it makes sense,’ I concede, as if it’s finally sinking in.

‘What do you mean by that?’

Trying to compose myself I say, ‘All my life I felt like I didn’t belong, that I wasn’t part of the family. It’s hard not to love Hugo more. Of course she said that. He was her son. Mum took me on to punish Aunt Viv; she didn’t really want me.’

‘Has your mother told you that?’

I shake my head. ‘My aunt, you mean?’

‘Your aunt, who raised you.’

‘I haven’t spoken to her. I can’t. Not yet. I am the product of Aunt Viv. Mum, well my aunt … what a messed up family we are,’ I say with a weak smile.

‘I’m following,’ Stephanie reassures me.

‘I think she resented me. Each time she looked at me she was reminded of losing the brother she loved and all the damage Aunt Viv had done to our family.’

*

‘Would you like to talk more about Matthew?’ Stephanie suggests, after she’s given me time to cry and to try to make some sense of the traumatic events of the past forty-eight hours.

‘Done.’

‘Done?’

‘Over. What a fool I was to trust him again. So naïve. What an idiot.’

‘You wanted Louis to have a father.’

‘He has a father, in Hugo.’ Tears come to my eyes. ‘Hugo isn’t my brother. I think that’s what’s thrown me the most, he’s my cousin, but I don’t care about titles or labels.’ I think about Ben, what he’d said about his stepfather. ‘Forget the title, it’s the man that’s important.’ ‘He is my brother and he’s the closest thing Louis has to a dad.’

Stephanie nods. ‘How is Louis?’

‘Upset. He doesn’t understand. “Where’s Daddy gone?” “Why isn’t he coming to see me again?” “I won’t!” is his favourite phrase right now. Digging his heels in whenever I ask him to do anything. Hugo and I told him too much, maybe, I don’t know if it was right, but I said Matthew hurt me. Hugo talked to him too, explained that sometimes his dad wasn’t kind and we all had to stop seeing him, that this wasn’t a punishment, that it was best for all of us.’ I pause. ‘Unbelievable how so much can change in a couple of days. The last time I saw you, the night Matthew was coming over, I was confused. In my head I wanted it to be happy families. I wanted so much to believe he’d made a fresh start, for Louis, maybe for me, I don’t know. I knew it was wrong when he offered me a drink. I nearly did, later, after everyone had gone. I went into the kitchen and the first thing I saw was that bottle of wine on the table. It was half-full. For the rest of the night I couldn’t sleep, just rocked in my chair, working out what I was going to say to Louis, going over everything, how my whole life had become this sham overnight. I kept on thinking about that bottle of wine, sitting there. I couldn’t concentrate. I went into the kitchen, picked it up, I needed something to take away the pain. I felt betrayed. The one person I have trusted more than anyone in my life, the person I felt safe with, and she’d lied to me for years. All those times I’d talked to Aunt Viv about my mother and confided about not fitting in, not feeling a part of the family, and she still couldn’t tell me the truth. All this AA talk about honesty and amends and doing the right thing …’

Stephanie is quiet, letting me carry on.

‘I carried the bottle back to my bedroom. I was this close. I was exhausted, it was almost as if I were sleepwalking, couldn’t think straight … I was about to …’ I stop, as if recalling that moment.

‘What stopped you?’

‘I heard a voice. It was your voice at first, but then another voice took over. My own.’

‘What was your voice saying?’

‘Don’t throw your life away again. Throw away that wine. So I did. Went into the bathroom and watched it disappear down the plughole.’

‘Polly, I’m proud of you. That showed guts.’

‘I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.’

‘Yes, yes you would. You chose not to drink, not me.’

‘I wouldn’t have been able to do it a year ago. I know now, whatever life throws at me, I have an inner strength, I have belief in myself, something I’ve never had before. There was no way I was going to have a drink, not after all the hard work to get sober. Besides, I have unfinished business.’

‘Unfinished business?’

‘One thing came through loud and clear that night as I chucked the wine away.’

She waits.

‘I love Ben.’

Stephanie is trying hard not to smile.

‘I think I’ve always felt this way about him, but I was too scared to admit it. Like you said, easier to go back to your old ways. But I love him. I love him, I love him.’

‘Well, I know I shouldn’t really give advice.’ She pauses. ‘But maybe you should tell him that.’