Anne Bennett - Mother’s Only Child

Maria knew everything Greg said was true. The facts were like little hammers battering inside her head.

‘Do you hate me, Maria?’

‘I feel nothing for you,’ Maria said flatly. ‘My heart is broken.’

‘I know,’ Greg said. ‘And mine too. Saying I am sorry is so inadequate, but I am sorry. You’d not believe how sorry I am. And though I must stand by Nancy and give her and the child my name, she will never have my love, or my heart. That belongs to you.’

Maria looked at Greg and wondered if he thought that made a difference. There was no point in talking any more. The talking was over now; to prolong it was pointless.

‘I think you should leave,’ she said, amazed by the controlled way she could say that, when inside she felt she’d been turned to jelly.

‘I can’t just leave you here.’

‘You can’t not,’ Maria said. ‘What I do is no longer your concern and I want you to go, now.’

‘Maria, please…’

Maria leapt to her feet. ‘Get out!’ she screamed. ‘God damn you. Get out! I don’t want you here, or to ever see your face again. Now get out!’

Greg stood up and lifted his case. He knew he had no option but to go. ‘Goodbye, Maria.’

Maria tossed her head, but did not acknowledge him in any other way. She was holding on to herself with great difficulty and barely had the door shut on him that she gave a great sigh. Her limbs were shaking uncontrollably. She had the urge to throw things—anything, everything. She wanted to scream at the unfairness of life.

Twice a tantalising future had been held before her and twice it had been pulled away before she could sample it. She thought she’d grieved for the college place, her father’s accident, her mother’s collapse, but it wasn’t grieving like this—this devastating hurt flowing through her, the feeling that she was bare, exposed, for all to see.

She sank onto the floor, unable any longer to stay upright, and cried out all the anguish and pain, cried as if she’d never, ever stop. Eventually, she was quiet. She lay for a few moments longer before pushing herself into a sitting position and then getting to her feet groggily. She felt light-headed and she held on to the chair till the room stopped spinning around her. The future was like a bad taste in her mouth and she was in despair.

But there were still her parents to see to. She knew she must go on. She’d already left her father unattended for far too long. She didn’t know the time, had no idea how long she had been there, but the paraffin lamp was spluttering and the fire in the stove much lower than it had been.

It was time to go, time to face the world. Maria put the biscuits away and threw the tea down the sink. She could go and tell the people of Moville of Greg’s betrayal, then take on board their pitying looks and sidelong glances. No, by God, she’d not, she vowed. Pride was all she had left now and she wasn’t losing one vestige of it.

Who knew anything about her and Greg anyway? Maria pondered as she made her way home. She had worn his ring beneath her clothes and had made no announcement. A few of the girls at the factory had known about Greg and they’d understand if she was to say she’d talked it over and they’d decided to cool everything until the war was over and she was a little more mature. They’d swallow that, even approve of it. ‘Don’t want to be rushing into anything now,’ one woman had already said the once.

‘Aye, that’s right,’ Joanne had agreed. ‘I’m having the time of my life at the moment and I’ll not give it up for any man till I’m good and ready.’

Bella and Dora would have to be told the truth, of course, but they’d not spread the tale about if she asked them not to. Her father would be disappointed, she knew. He wanted to see her settled and so did Sean. This latest development would once more chain him down. She wasn’t worried about Barney for he hadn’t approved of the engagement in the first place and she had no doubt that he’d accept what she said.

So, her pride would be intact, but inside she felt dead, numb, like half a person. This was a grievous blow she wondered if she’d ever recover from.

Her father was thankfully asleep when she reached the house. The first thing she did was to fetch an envelope from the bureau in her room and drop the ring in it. Tomorrow she would post it to Greg’s parents, where she assumed he would be staying. There was no need for any explanation.

In fact, Greg wasn’t at his parent’s, for they wouldn’t have him. His mother could scarcely believe that her son had slept with a girl before marriage, before even an understanding, and the news had shocked her to the core. Even his father, knowing more of the world and the need and urges of young men, was censorious.

‘If you couldn’t control yourself, couldn’t you at least use something?’

Greg’s head jerked up. ‘What d’you know about things like that?’

‘Enough,’ his father snapped. ‘I wasn’t born yesterday. I know too it’s against the Church’s teaching—not that they’d approve of fornication either, of course.’

‘I did use something, Dad,’ Greg admitted. ‘Except for one time, the last time. I didn’t think…Anyway, just once we used nothing.’

‘Well, that one slip-up has ruined young Maria’s life. I suppose you know that?’

And mine, Greg might have said, but he didn’t. This was no time to think of himself. He nodded and his voice was thick when he said, ‘I know, Dad.’

‘You’ve condemned her to a life of drudgery and likely broken her heart, for she loved you dearly. The times she’d come here and talk about you, it’s obvious what she thinks, how she feels. God, Greg, I’m surprised you can live with yourself.’

‘Dad, I’m not proud of this, any of it,’ Greg said. ‘But, for God’s sake, what was I to do? I’d finished with Nancy long before I declared myself to Maria and since that moment I have been true to her. But Nancy is pregnant with my child, Dad. I can’t desert her.’

‘Aye, I see that. It’s a dreadful thing you did to that girl too.’

‘Her father’s beaten her black and blue.’

Greg’s father imagined how the man would feel, how he would react if one of his daughters came home with the news she was with child. God, it didn’t bear thinking about.

But what of his son? Should he allow him to come here, flaunting his sin for all to see, showing a bad example to his siblings and further heartache for Maria?

‘Your mother and me have talked this over, Greg,’ he said. ‘You are right, you must marry this Nancy, but we don’t want to see either her or you ever again.’

‘What are you saying, Dad?’

‘I’m saying you are not welcome here. Go back to England, do your duty by this girl and sever connections with your home. As far as your mother and me are concerned, by your actions and for the grave hurt you have caused a great deal of people, you can no longer regard yourself as a son of ours.’

Greg almost staggered from the room. He could scarcely believe the words his father had spoken. He’d always thought whatever he did, or said, they’d always love him, forgive him and welcome him. He’d never envisaged a time when he might be estranged from his parents—disagree with them, certainly, but exiled from home, never.

For Christ’s sake, he was their eldest son. He sought out his mother, but her eyes were cold, her face set as she looked at him. ‘I thought your father had spoken to you.’

‘He has, Mom.’

‘Well then?’

‘I thought-’

‘You thought I would be different. Let me tell you, Greg, you have cut me to the quick and I am engulfed with shame for the wrong you have done Maria and also, to a lesser extent, the piece you are marrying. Do you think I want you here after that, your brothers emulating you and your sisters thinking this is the way to behave? No, Greg. You made your bed and now you must lie in it. You can have one day here to get over the travelling and tomorrow you go back, and I don’t want to see, or hear from you again.’