Trying Not To Love You

Part Sixty Nine

Chapter Sixty Nine

Sonny stood his ground, watching Michael climb out of his car and cross the muddy yard to him.

                “Tell me about her,” he waved the photos in one of his hands.

It pleased Sonny that the first sign from him was concern for his mother; he had always hoped that his father, whoever he turned out to be, would remember his mother with affection, love even. That was more important than how he was to him - or maybe a distraction from how he’d feel about this.

He looked at him for a moment, as Martha and Ethan reappeared.

                “We’re off to the shop, we’ll be a while. The kettle’s on.”

She smiled at the two men knowingly as Ethan waved.

                “She knows?” Michael asked a little surprised.

Sonny nodded, “she knows everything about me.” He spotted the older man flinch at that, and he was glad to inflict a little discomfort on him. “Do you want a coffee?”

Michael nodded, “I need something.” Waving to Derek they both watched the car drive off, then made for the kitchen.

                “So Catherine. Tell me about her?”

Sonny started to fill the mugs with coffee, “the letter explained. She never recovered from you. She wasn’t a great mother, her depression and sadness changed her.” He dropped his eyes for a moment, “she died when I was eight.”

                “But it wasn’t good before that.”

Sonny laughed, “it was out of the frying pan into the fire. The care system isn’t the easiest place to survive. But at least I had regular meals, and generally the places I stayed were heated.”

Michael swiped at his eyes for a moment, “I never knew. About you. She never told me.”

Sonny gave a little nod, watching his father intently, and he continued. “I did end things dramatically, but I was told I had to marry Camilla, my wife. It wasn’t my choice, and it came out of the blue. You may be angry that I just left your mother...but that was how it had to be. It was a different time then.”

                “So you believe me?”

Michael sighed, looking at the photo still clutched in his fingers. “I loved her,” he lifted the image. Not really acknowledging his question. “More than anything. Camilla was an old flame, I’d left home got away from my family and Camilla had been part of that past. In London I had freedom, working, living, shedding the responsibility of my upbringing. But she turned up one day, Scott in her arms. I knew he was mine; it was obvious from day one. And I had to do the right thing, I was a coward.” He dropped his head, “but your mother, she was so vibrant, so confident. I had no idea that she’d fall apart.”

Sonny had moved to the far corner of the kitchen, whilst this man was obviously grief stricken, he himself couldn’t ignore the feelings that this confession was causing. His poor mother. All his life he’d resented her, resented that she’d failed him, that she’d allowed depression and alcohol to dominate her life, that he’d been second place, unloved, unfed and unwanted. But the letter...it had given him a view into his mother’s world. And it was painful.

As Michael confessed to doing wrong by his mother he fought the desire to hit him, to share the hurt that his desertion had caused.  Instead Sonny turned and left the room, escaping out of the utility room. He couldn’t breathe until he hit the cold fresh air of the yard. Pain almost blinding his eyes. This wasn’t the reaction he wanted, he had imagined being the picture of cold calculated calmness as his father explained himself, instead he was engulfed with unwanted yet familiar emotions, feelings that had bubbled under the surface all his life.