10 - James

Driving over to Martin, James let his mind wander to places it had not been in ages.

It had taken him sometime to accept Martin as his father. Biological, yes, but not his real father like Nathan, the only father he had ever known from as far back as he could remember.

He began to realize that he did not have a dad like his other friends did one day when he was sitting outside the gate of the primary school waiting for his Granma to pick him up and take him to her home. He would stay there until his mummy came for him. Some parents were standing nearby and he heard one say, "The poor little mite. The spitting image of his father. To think he could run away and leave Louisa to bring him up alone." He didn't know quite what that meant but he knew it wasn't something nice judging by how they stopped talking when they realized he had overheard them.

He loved his Granma. She doted on him and always dropped everything she was doing to give him her full attention. When he asked her what the parents he had heard talking meant, she hugged him and said in the soft voice she reserved for him, "People like to talk rubbish. Have your milk and a fresh biscuit I baked especially for you then we'll have a look at your homework. "

He persisted, "What does poor little mite mean?" Joan thought about ignoring his question then she remembered that he would not stop until he got an answer. That is how she and Louisa had taught him to discover new things. He would only end up going to her and that would make her even unhappier than she was.

"A poor little mite is a child who doesn't have anybody to care for them. It could also be an animal. Do you remember your special lamb, Sadie? How when her mother died and she was alone, how we cared for her, you especially? Do you see how she has grown strong and beautiful? Some rubbish people would think that she was a poor little mite, but you and me know she wasn't. We looked after her and she always had us."

"Oh, I see."

"I'm glad. Now, James Henry, you're not a poor little mite. You have your mummy, me, Uncle Chris and all the people who love you and look out for you." Joan was on a roll now, but inwardly she was seething. She knew exactly who the gossips were and planned to give them a piece of her mind.

"So they were talking rubbish when they called me a poor little mite?" James asked glad to have that puzzle solved.

"That's what I told you. Remember? Now go eat and let's look at your homework. It wont get done by itself."

It took him a while to figure out that Granma and his London father were related. One day, he fell asleep on her sofa and woke up to find her leafing through a photo album. Being a naturally curious child, he wanted to know who was the person she was looking at. That was the first time he saw his father. Most of the pictures were of him as a young boy. When he asked her why he looked so sad, she told him that it was because he did not have a nice mummy like he did.

Nathan was at teacher at a school in Wadebridge. Between him and Louisa, they made enough to enjoy a good, simple life. They did things as a family which he enjoyed such as outings, picnics, zoo and museum visits, camping, football games, cricket matches and as treat, sometimes a week in summer at a beach cottage. There was nothing flashy about their life. James never lacked for anything, save for Martin. He once overheard his mummy telling Nathan that the money his father sent was for James and James alone. This was the first time he had heard them quarreling. Nathan was angry. He demanded to know why it could not be put towards family expenses. His mum started yelling and told Nathan that Martin had been more than generous. He sent large cheques, was putting away money in a trust fund for James, sent extras when he thought things were difficult and that was all she could ever ask of him. Nathan stormed out of the house shouting, "If he's so generous, why doesn't he want his son."

Nathan hadn't seen him, but Louisa saw him standing outside the back door. She pulled him inside, sat on the sofa with him and held him in her arms for a long time. It was the first time he had seen his mum crying. Being a good son, he said nothing. "James, sometimes Nathan and I get angry at each other, but we love you and would never do anything to hurt you. Your other father in London also loves you very much, but he's not able to be in our life." That made no sense to him, but he believed her.

The first time he got seriously ill was when he found out that his father was a doctor. He had heard his mother talking to him on the phone and knew that whatever advice she gave him, was what made him better. During one weekend with his Uncle Chris, he discovered that his uncle was a good friend of his father. When he got older, he would pester him to tell him about his London father. Chris showed him pictures of them in medical school and told him that his father was a brilliant surgeon who saved a lot of people's lives. Of course, he never told his parents about his interest in his London father. He just knew it was not the thing to do.

Granma didn't like talking about Martin. It made her sad. This is what James picked up. He tried not to ask too many questions, but sometimes he just couldn't help himself. When he got old enough he began searching the Internet for Martin Ellingham. He was proud to read about all the people's lives he was saving. Again, he never told his parents about this because he saw how sad his mother was sometimes.

He used to wonder why Louisa and Granma got quiet when anybody mentioned his father's name. It was Nathan who explained things to him one day when they were driving back from a football match they had gone to watch in Truro.

"Your mum and your father used to love each other and were going to get married."

"Why didn't they?" he interrupted.

"It's hard to explain. They thought they would not make each other happy so they called off the wedding."

"That makes no sense. Couldn't they have tried a little harder."

"They did James, but it wasn't enough?"

"Then why did they have me if they knew they were not going to be together?" he was almost pleading to understand now.

"I didn't know your mum then. This is all I know. He is a very important surgeon in London so he's very busy, but he never forgets to provide for you."

What he didn't know then was that Nathan had spoken with Martin a few times, especially when Louisa was too upset to talk when James or Joan was ill. Martin didn't make Nathan feel as if he was intruding, in fact he was grateful to Nathan and told him so. He got along very well with Chris and thought that if he and Martin were close friends, he couldn't be all that bad. Nathan was a math teacher. He dealt in facts and figures, things as they were, not as they could or should be.

James cringed at the memory of that conversation. Although he loved Nathan, at that moment he had wanted to have his real father with him. Keeping his mind on a busy section of the road, he continued driving until he reached a patch where he could allow his mind to wander freely again.

Two week before Granma died, she was very ill, but he still asked if he could stay with her while Louisa ran errands. He was sitting on her bed talking quietly with her, when she pulled him to her and said, "I have something very important to say to you."

He got very quiet and did not interrupt. He didn't know if this was when she was going to die.

"I love your father very much. He has always been good to me. I love him like a son just as how I love you as my grandson. James, sometimes adults get busy, they make mistakes, yet they still love you. Marty is busy in London, but I don't mind because I know he loves."

Taking hold of his hand in her weak, work-roughened hands, she leaned closer and said, "James Henry, no matter what you might hear, your father loves you very much."

That was one of his last times with her because after that conversation she became even weaker and could hardly speak. The last time was the night in the hospital when he and his mum sat on her bed after she had asked the doctor and nurse to give them some private time together. She was trying to speak but her voice was so low that his mum pulled him closer to her. "James, don't ever be afraid. You are the most loved child that I ever known and one day you will meet your father and love him." All he remembered next of that night was his mum running out of the room with him to call the doctors and nurses, and how she sat in the backseat of the car holding him as she cried uncontrollably while Nathan drove them home.

He vaguely remembered meeting Martin at her funeral. His mum cried a lot so he tried to comfort her because Nathan had told him that she would love that. When the funeral was over, and they were in village hall for the repast, a tall, grey-haired man came over, leaned down and said, "Hello James. How are you?"

He didn't know who he was, but his mother had told him to be extra polite today, so he answered. "I am fine, thank you." Because he was so sad, he found himself telling the stranger, "I miss Granma. I love her very much." Next thing he knew, he felt a tear trickling down his cheek. The man hugged him tight, took out his handkerchief, wiped away his tears and told him, "Your Granma loves you very much too. Please be a brave boy for your mum."

Then his mum came over, gave the man a sad smile, held James to her and said "James, this is your other daddy who lives in London." He remembered that she started to cry after she said that and said to his daddy, "Martin, I'm so sorry you had to meet James like this." His daddy put his arms around both of them and whispered, "James, I'm sorry. Louisa, thank you." He didn't quite understand much of what happened that day, but he liked the man's eyes. They were grey blue just like his and they were sad when he said goodbye, hugged him and reminded him to be a brave boy for his mum.

That night his mum came into his room after he had gotten into bed. He was too big to have her read him bedtime stories, but he liked when she came in and tucked him in with a kiss. Tonight she said, "Move over. Let's talk for a little. It has been a sad day." Because he was tall for his age, he had a big bed so there was more than enough space for her.

He didn't want to talk about Granma, but he had been thinking about the daddy who he had met today. Smart as he was, he didn't want to upset his mum so he choose his question carefully. "Does my daddy really love me?"

Louisa smiled. "Yes he does. He may not show it like daddy Nathan does, but he loves you." James remembered how good it felt when his London daddy hugged and how Granma always told him that he loved him.

"Granma said he had a bad mother. Is that why he doesn't show that he loves me?"

"But he does, James. His bad mother is a part of it. My little boy, one day you will understand that people love differently. Granma loves you differently from how I love you. Auntie Jenny and Auntie Caroline love you, but look how different they love you? Now it's time for bed. We can talk about this some more if you want to."

He never spoke about it with her again. There didn't seem to be any point. That didn't stop him from thinking about it every now and again.

James parked outside Martin's house, waiting on the Parsons to join him. He didn't think he could face his parents alone. The wait wasn't long, but enough for his mind to run wild again.

As he got older, he heard plenty from the gossiping that was a village's pastime. Putting bits and pieces together, he learned that his mother had been devastated when his dad left shortly before he was born. Some thought she had gotten pregnant so that she would get her hands on his money. Then there was Mrs. Tishell, the chemist, who gave him the creepy crawly. When she saw him without his mum, she would say, "Poor little doc" then say something unkind about her.

James was an excellent student, good at sports and had a lot of friends. After he figured out what had happened between his parents, he threw himself into his school work extra hard because by then he knew he wanted to be a doctor and get away from the ugly gossip in the village. When it was time for him to go to university, and his mother told him she was sending him to his father, he almost said that he would stay in the village. As bright as he was, he knew that wasn't one of his best ideas.

When he met Martin in London, he wanted to dislike him. He knew it wasn't right, but he was grown and didn't want to have to develop a father son relationship with Martin. Something else, but not that. He could be as stubborn as Martin. In time, he came to understand Martin and realized they were very much alike. Accepting him as a father wasn't easy, but as they got comfortable with each other, he saw a side of Martin that few people knew and it became a little easier to forge a relationship with him. He came to know him for the generous person he was. The thing was, Martin never blew his own trumpet. That wasn't his style. Come to think of it, it wasn't his own either. If he were fair, he was a lot like Martin - the same analytical mind and fixity of purpose. But these traits were balanced by the people skills his mother's genes had passed down to him.

One day when he was getting ready to visit Portwenn, Martin asked, "Are you looking forward to going home?" Not really, he thought. He would be happy to see his mum and dad, and his friends. Then there was the parting which he had come to dread. He knew that Louisa would be down for a couple of days after he left.

"Well, James?"

"Yes and no." What was it about being in London and missing Portwenn and being in Portwenn and missing London? "Truthfully, I now think of London as home, not Portwenn."

"Home is where your heart is" Martin shot back cryptically.

Looking at him in bewilderment, James thought it was time for him to retire. Martin Ellingham waxing poetical!

James worried about his mother being alone after Nathan's death. Privately, Nathan had asked him to look after her. James was glad that Louisa and Martin were getting along. He never dreamt that they could be a couple. What was the point, at their age? What if it didn't have a happy ending? Wouldn't she be hurt all over again? And what about him? Would he take sides? A picture of the yearning in the eyes of his parents as they tried to recover from the shock of seeing each other at the Parsons's flashed before his eyes. There was no mistaking the electricity between them. Yet, he was deeply conflicted.