“I know that name,” I began, “I was told my father was a Robert Fraser, a young soldier, a Royal Marine, he was killed, in The Falklands…”
She nodded.
“Robert was my older brother, by a year; he was a lovely boy. I’m your aunt, Darryl, your father’s younger sister…!”
I was taken aback; for no good reason, I had assumed that, with his death, there was no more connection with Robert Fraser; he was only my biological father; my dad was my dad, end of story. Now this woman was here, claiming to be my aunt. I was curious as to why now.
“This is all very interesting, but it’s all kind of ancient history, no offence. My dad, as far as I’m concerned is David Morgan, my mum is Maureen, and they don’t live here anymore, they moved to Cyprus, so I’m afraid I can’t help you, I’m sorry.”
She reached out and touched my cheek, gently turning my face to the right to look at my profile.
“So much like him, and so much like Lizzie, too! Robbie’s gone, but he still lives on in you, even if you didn’t know him. I always hoped to meet you one day, Darryl, perhaps tell you about him, I think he’d have been proud of you. You’re taller than he was, but you have his eyes, his hair, even his way of standing. It does my heart good to see there’s so much of him still here! He was just a boy, not even out of his ‘teens when he died in that stupid little war. My father got a pennon and a medal in exchange for giving up his only son, not much of a trade, I’m sure you’ll agree, but he would have been proud to see his grandson grown so tall, so handsome, so much like Robbie might have been if only…”
She dabbed her eyes with a tissue and smiled.
“I was hoping to see Mr. Morgan. I came here not really expecting to find him, but hoping I’d strike it lucky; I last saw him here over 25 years ago-when you were born, actually. Do you by any chance have a forwarding address or contact telephone number for him? It’s really quite important…”
I wasn’t about to give out mum and dad’s details to some stranger, no matter what the claimed relationship was, so I asked her why she needed to speak to dad. Her answer caught me completely by surprise.
“I came because Lizzie asked me to…”
I sat back in shock. Elizabeth, my birth-mother? After 25 years? Why? I had to know.
“Why now, after all these years? Dad said there were no words, no falling-out, Elizabeth left because she was too young to bring-up a child alone; okay, I accept that, but why keep dad in the dark for 25 years? What did he do that was so bad that she had to shun him my whole life?”
Emma looked sad.
“Your dad did nothing; Lizzie kept away first because she didn’t want to be reminded about the child she’d left behind, but she soon grew out of that, and then she didn’t want to confuse and maybe alienate you by suddenly appearing and trying to be your mother again, and finally because her… lifestyle wasn’t something she was too proud of.”
I was fascinated, and asked her to go on.
“Lifestyle? Please, do tell, I’m all ears!” I grinned.
Emma looked thoughtful, obviously picking her words carefully.
“Remember, this was the 80’s, the age of excess, and try and not judge a young girl too harshly, okay?”
I nodded, so she continued.
“Lizzie fell into the club scene, the whole ‘New Romantic’ thing, new bands, this month’s flavour of the month, getting passed around from music producer to producer, it was kind of like that line in the Lou Reed song ‘Take a walk on the wild side’, about being everybody’s darling in the back-room, the music scene and the life that went with that; money, fashion, wild behaviour, sex, drugs…”
Emma looked at me to gauge my reaction, but all I said was “Go on,” so she did.
“She was there from the beginning, she knew everyone, and everyone knew her; no party was complete without Lizzie Morgan, or Lolly Moore, as she called herself. Every wild party, every new club, every new band, she was there, part of the glitterati, usually coked-up and off her face on some latest sensation’s arm, partying in Acapulco, and Monte Carlo, Mustique, rumours of affairs with pop royalty, real royalty, trying to find the millionaire, jet-set lifestyle she talked about and wanted when we were in school. She changed her appearance so much I never even recognised her when saw her in the papers, and I grew up with her. It’s amazing what big blonde hair, collagen, and a new chest can do for you!”
I was impressed in spite of myself; my mother was an ‘It’ Girl? Far out, as mum used to say…
I listened as Emma continued.
“Of course it all had to end; when it did, I was there to pick her up; Lizzie and I went through school together, we were friends from when we were five years old, she was my best friend, and Robbie was always crazy about her, from the first day he ever set eyes on her. When they got together, he was over the moon; he couldn’t believe his luck. When he shipped-out, she said she’d wait for him, and when he was killed, something inside her just… died as well, or gave up, I don’t know which, but she changed, it was like she decided that there was no point in being there for anyone, because no-one would be there for her; her mother had abandoned her when she was small, now Robbie was gone. When she had you, I think that was the last straw; you were her reminder of Robbie, and he was gone, so she left, and left you.”
Shepaused and looked into my eyes.
“I’m sorry none of us ever came for you, Darryl; she made us promise we’d leave you with her dad and leave you alone; he’d look after you properly, much better than any of us could. She was right; I was just a teenager myself, my dad was a zombie after losing Robbie, I was trying to take care of my two younger sisters, we were definitely not the place for a baby to be. She made your dad promise not to tell you about her until you were ready to hear it all.”
I was intrigued in spite of myself; this was my mother we were talking about, but try as I might, I couldn’t dredge-up a single emotion for her; love, hate, disdain, bitterness, none of those were in me when I thought of her. Mum and dad had given me all I ever needed, I had no missing love to yearn for, no part of my life that she had denied me, no unfinished business, and so I could be completely detached when it came to thinking about Elizabeth, my birth-mother.
“So… Emma, what did happen to Elizabeth… Lizzie?” I asked, and a movement caught my eye. I looked up to see Lena watching from the doorway, her expression interested and curious. I wondered how much she’d heard. She came and sat by me, and took my hand, and smiled at Emma.
“Please, go on, we’d both like to know; what did happen to Elizabeth?”
Emma looked startled, then smiled back at Lena.
“You’ve got be her sister; God, you look just like her!”
Lena leaned forward, her eyes fixed on Emma.
“You were about to tell Darryl what happened to Elizabeth, so please, go on, what happened to make her turn her back on all that?”
Emma looked at me as she started to explain.
“What happens to all of us, eventually; she grew up; the life she was living only had a few ways to end, none of them good, and she came to realise that eventually. One day there was a knock on my door, and there she was, Lolly Moore was gone, and Lizzie Morgan was back, older, maybe wiser, but ready to be a grown-up at last; it took its time, but I suppose that realisation came to her in time, which was a good thing; all her so-called friends from those days were using, in rehab, in jail, or dead, and I suppose she realised one day that those were her choices. Whatever the reason, and she’s never told me fully, she was back, and back inside herself again.”
Lena leaned forward, her eyes wide.
“Where is she now? Why did she never come back? Her father wanted to know what he’d done to keep her away so long, why didn’t she ever come back, even if it was just to say ‘hello, I’m not dead!?”
I realised Lena was angry, and Emma reared back slightly.
“Oh my God, you looked just like her then! Lizzie has that exact expression when she’s mad!”
Lena said nothing, her eyes flashing, and Emma smiled slightly, covering her mouth with her hand.
“For a second there you looked so much like her it was scary! To answer your question, she kept away because she didn’t know how to come back. I suppose staying away had become a habit that was just too hard to break; she thought she had no reason to come back, then she was too guilty to come back, and finally she just couldn’t work out how to come back, perhaps she thought too much time had passed to ever make it right again, so she left well enough alone.”
“But now she wants to see her father just this one last time. When she was in her mid-twenties she met a man, a good man, the usual happened, and they had a home, not too far from Bristol, as it happens, he had a good job, they were happy. They had two children, a boy and a girl, then things started to go wrong between them, and eventually they broke up, he left, and she’s there today. The little boy, Marcus, looks an awful lot like her, like you actually, and very much like your dad!” she grinned, looking at Lena.
“The little girl, well, not so little, she’s almost a teenager now, her name’s Allie, she’s the very image of Lizzie, just like how I remember her looking when we were young. They’re a good family, a happy family, they don’t have much, but they all love and support each other. Lizzie wants to come home, to say the things she should have said all those years ago, but you say her dad’s gone, he lives in Cyprus now. Would you give me his address, or maybe a telephone number? I know Lizzie needs this; perhaps her dad needs this as well. Please give her a chance; she’s not the Lizzie who left, that girl is long gone, I should know.”
Lena stood up.
“I want to meet her, I want to look the woman in the face who walked away from Darryl, from my dad, and let him suffer all that guilt for all those years for nothing. He did nothing, and yet she punished him; I want to meet her so I can say what needs to be said to her, things I know my dad would never say; then it will be square. I get to meet her, she gets to talk to dad; hell, I’ll even take her there, but she looks me in the face first, got it?”
Emma nodded, a small smile on her face.
“It’s amazing how like Lizzie you are when you’re angry, God, you’re just like her!”
Lena stuck out her chin pugnaciously.