Life at Hope Cottage was strained and tense in the days following Peter’s return. It was clear that he was no longer the confident and optimistic young man who had set sail for Singapore in 1941. Before, he moved energetically and enthusiastically. Now he moved slowly and deliberately, his head often bowed. Conversations at meal times were polite but not illuminating. Any attempt to talk about the war was met with a wall of silence.
Evie found the whole experience very unsettling. For five years she had been nursing the memory of a man she had loved, knowing that he would never return from war. She had allowed her memories to soften and mellow, shutting out anything that deflected from the comfort of those private thoughts. Now she was confronted with a new reality and her private paradise was being shattered. There seemed to be no spark of romantic interest, no endearing words and no close physical contact.
Each morning after breakfast, Peter would leave the house to walk and not return until early evening. Evie asked him where he went and what he was thinking about but he simply replied,
“I need time, Evie. I need time. I’m so sorry.”
One evening after Peter had retired to bed early as usual, Evie lay on her own bed trying to make sense of her feelings. She knew now that Peter had suffered and had locked away terrible memories inside his mind. Somehow, she had to help him deal with these.
She caught sight of the silver box on her dresser. She opened the lid and rifled through the letters until she came to one addressed to her on her tenth birthday. There was something her mother had told her about Jack which she needed to read again.
Dearest Evie,
Happy birthday, darling, on your tenth birthday. I expect you’re very beautiful now. You’ve inherited my auburn hair and I’m sure it makes you look very distinctive. How is your life? I hope it’s full of love. I know that Daddy cares for you very much and will always love you, whatever the future may bring. Is Uncle Jack still with you? If he is, I expect he’s still spoiling you.
I want to tell you a little bit about Uncle Jack. In the future, you may find that he becomes important in your life. Uncle Jack needs to be loved. I think that’s why he found his way into our lives. In the war he was badly hurt. He worked behind enemy lines and was caught. He was badly beaten and tortured. He also blames himself for the death of two French agents who worked closely with him. I’m telling you this because I want you to know that he’s a very special man, not just the kind old uncle who gives you too many sweets. People who have been through what he’s been through seldom want to talk about their experiences but they need to be understood. Please remember this if you ever find yourself harbouring anger in your heart for Uncle Jack.
Evie stopped reading and put the letter down. She had forgotten about Jack’s war service but reading the letter again gave her an idea.
The next day she took Jack’s breakfast tray to him at eight in the morning. They made polite conversation about the weather as Evie drew back the curtains and put cushions behind Jack’s back to help him sit upright.
“Uncle Jack, I know you know what’s going on,” began Evie.
“There’s lots of goings on in this house, Evie, what do you mean?”
“Peter and me. That’s what I’m talking about. We were close – before he went away. We made promises to each other. But now it’s all different. He’s not the same man any more. I want to know why. I want to know what I can do to bring him back – the old Peter who left here in ’41. Mum told me in one of her letters that you’d been badly treated in the war. Can you help me to understand? What can I do to help Peter?”
There was a long pause whilst Jack sipped at his tea and gazed intently at the bedspread.
“What did your mother tell you?”
“Just that you were caught behind enemy lines and tortured. Oh and that two French agents were killed too.”
“Yvette and Simone,” whispered Jack under his breath.
“Did you say Yvette? That’s strange. It’s so similar to my own name. Who was Yvette?”
“She was a very special and very brave woman.”
“How did she die?”
“It’s difficult for me to tell you much, Evie. If you experience those things you spend a life time trying to forget them. But before you can do that, you need to talk to someone first. That’s where you’re mother helped me. She coaxed me to talk about what happened - to face up to the truth. You see in that situation no one’s brave. In the end, everyone talks. It’s just a matter of time. It’s not just your own pain – it’s seeing pain being inflicted on others, maybe people you love. You’re humiliated. They do things to you that I can’t bring myself to describe. You say anything in the end – just to make it stop. But, of course, even then it doesn’t stop – it just goes on and on. And somewhere in all of that you lose faith. What can you possibly believe in that allows all this to happen? And if you lose faith – you lose the will to live. You might just as well be dead. And then you begin to want to die. Each time you come round from the last beating you curse your luck for being alive.”
“I’m sorry, Uncle Jack. I didn’t want to intrude. I just wanted to ...”
“You wanted to know how you can help Peter. Do as your mother did with me, Evie. Be there to listen. Don’t ask too many questions. Don’t make judgements. Just be there when he wants to start talking. And he will want to start talking. Sometime soon he’ll need to start talking.”
The next morning as Peter was preparing to leave the house, he encountered Evie in the hall putting on her outdoor clothes and boots.
“You’re not going to work in those, are you?”
“No, Peter. I’m coming with you.”
Peter’s face dropped. “But I need to be alone. I thought you understood. I just need time.”
“You don’t need to worry. I won’t talk to you. I just want to be with you. Now put your coat on and we’ll go.”
Peter looked confused and a little crestfallen but he did as he was bid. They set off down Duck Lane, away from the town towards the meadows where Evie and Emma had played as children and where in earlier years Alice, Jed and Flora had planned their futures, brimming with optimism and idealism.
They walked in silence along footpaths and climbed styles over walls onto rough farm tracks. Peter walked with his hands in his pockets and his head lowered. Every so often he would stop and look, not at the scene in front of him, but at some other image in a distant place. His face would contort and sometimes fill with fear. Evie said nothing but occasionally took his hand, feeling his damp clammy palm against hers.
The next day was the same. The sky was overcast so they put on waterproof jackets. After an hour of silent walking, Peter stopped and looked at Evie. He reached out to hold her hands and for the first time since his return he looked her straight in the eyes. Evie remained silent, determined that she would ask no questions. Peter seemed to be struggling with words or perhaps with the ideas that would give meaning to his words. But there seemed to be a barrier that he just couldn’t overcome. He turned away from Evie unable to bear looking at her.
Twice more on that same day, Peter tried to get his words out but was beaten by the demons that had taken control of his mind. Evie wondered how long she could keep this up. She was needed back at the construction company as Jed was beginning to get anxious about her absence. The third day dawned bright and crisp. A hint of an early spring hung in the air. Wild daffodils formed a yellow ribbon along the embankments and hedgerows.
“Let’s go a different way today, Peter,” said Evie as they arrived at the first meadow. “Let’s go to Offa’s Mount. It’ll be beautiful up there today. You’ll be able to see for miles.”
Without saying anything, Peter followed her along the track which led away from Frampton to higher ground to the west of the town. It took just over an hour to trudge the three miles to Offa’s Mount. Evie noticed that Peter’s walk was getting more steady and confident. He was also beginning to look around him rather than keeping his eyes focused on the ground.
The top of Offa’s Mount was sparse, boasting only a stone mound on which was placed a roughly cast metal plate indicating the four points of the compass. Evie and Peter stopped by the mound and looked out over the flat East Anglian countryside. An early mist still hung over the fields giving the appearance of an undulating ethereal ocean. The sun overhead was bright with just the faintest hint of warmth registering on exposed flesh. They both stood in silence, mesmerised by the simple beauty of the scene which lay before them.
When Evie looked at Peter, she was astonished to see tears rolling down his cheeks. She threw her arms around him and held him tight.
“What is it, Peter, my darling? What is it?”
“When you’re in those God forsaken camps, this is what you think about,” he replied shakily. “When they tie you up in a cage and leave you to roast in the jungle heat you try to make your mind go somewhere else. You try to detach it from your body. And this is where I came. You remember we came here the day before I left. This was my last memory of peace and happiness. I made it my special memory. And when they hit me, or pretended they were about to shoot me or beat my best friend to pulp in front of me, I always tried to come here. To stand at this place and look out over this beautiful country.” Evie held him tight but said nothing. Jack had told her just to listen.
“It’s not so much the pain or dying. The mind has a funny way of dealing with those. It’s fear. There’s always fear. You learn to live with it, learn to expect it all the time. Fear of being betrayed, fear of letting down a comrade, fear of being weak, fear of just waking up. And that’s what it’s like now, Evie. I’m consumed with fear. People tell us we’re heroes but they didn’t see us crying out for mercy or begging for food or begging to die. I’ve got to live with these memories, Evie, and I don’t know how to.” There was a long silence as they held each other tightly.
“I can’t begin to understand what you’ve been through, Peter, and I can’t say anything that will help. But I can always be here to listen and to help share some of the pain. I know you’re not the same young airman who came to visit us in 1941, but I don’t know who you are now. I want to find out. I want to be a part of your future - not your past. And I know it’s early days but you must begin to think about the future. It’s the only way to lay the past to rest.”
They sat down by the base of the stone mound and words began to tumble out. Peter talked of being shot down off the coast of Singapore in the days before the Japanese invaded the island. He told Evie how he had managed to swim to the coast of Malaya and hide in the jungle from Japanese patrols. How eventually he’d given himself up to villagers, hoping that they would hide him but how, in fact, he was traded to the Japanese for a couple of bags of rice. Rather than being taken to a main camp, he was held in the jungle in a makeshift prison run by Malayan collaborators, brutal people who exacted terrible punishments for minor infringements of rules. He was there for three years, half starved and often suffering from dysentery. Death seemed like a blessed relief – always just out of reach.
Evie told Peter about her war years. She didn’t hide from him the fact that she had relationships with a number of men. She needed him to understand that she too had known despair and desolation - that the old pre war values of chastity and monogamy were irrelevant in a world where relationships might last only a few days before a soldier would be gunned down or an airman shot out of the skies. Whatever remained of their relationship, Evie was determined that it could only be built on honesty, that no dark shadows should remain harbouring demons that might one day endanger their future.
They returned to Hope Cottage by mid afternoon as the sun was losing its warmth. Jack was asleep in his chair by the fire. Peter took Evie silently by the hand and led her through the parlour to his room. He shut the door and pulled Evie to him. Their lips made light inquisitive contact. Then he was kissing her wildly, passionately, out of control.
“Stop, Peter,” she whispered breathlessly. “Not this way.”
He sat down on the bed, confused. Then Evie began to undress. Peter watched her in silence. When she was naked, she began to unbutton Peter’s shirt and remove the rest of his clothes. Then she pulled him down onto the bed.
They made love selfishly and greedily, each seeking atonement for the years they had been forced to spend apart. When they climaxed together, their bodies fused and they clasped each other until they both cried out with pain.
Afterwards, they lay for over an hour in each other’s arms. Evie began to talk to Peter about a future, a shared future, perhaps with children. Peter talked about his boyhood dreams to travel and work abroad. Now all that seemed so irrelevant. He had travelled and made it back home. He yearned to belong somewhere and to belong with someone.
That evening, Peter and Evie announced that they were going out and would probably find somewhere to eat in Cromer. Evie had prepared a meal for the two men which Jed put the finishing touches to when he arrived home from work. Jed was glad that he had the opportunity to speak to Jack alone about an issue that was causing him growing concern.
“They seem to be getting on well, them two,” suggested Jed as he was ladling out the stew.
“Peter and Evie? I saw it coming,” remarked Jack. “It doesn’t surprise me. Spent the last three days together they have. Spent a lot of time in Peter’s room this afternoon too and I don’t expect they were playing cards either.” Jed dished out the vegetables in silence and pushed Jack’s wheelchair up to the table.
“You see, Jack, there’s a bit of a problem. Suppose they decided to get married?”
“Well, that’s alright isn’t it? Peter’s a good lad. Had a difficult time of it, obviously, but there’s no one better placed than Evie to help him sort himself out.”
“That’s not the point,” persisted Jed. “They can’t get married.”
“Why ever not?”
“Because Evie’s your child,” said Jed with a sudden edge to his voice, “and Peter’s your nephew. Don’t you see? That makes them first cousins.”
“Well, it’s not illegal for first cousins to get married is it?”
“It’s not illegal but there can be problems. If they have children there may be, well, health issues. Sometimes they can be deformed. Sometimes they can be a bit ... simple.”
“How do you know all about this?” asked Jack, laying down his knife and fork as the conversation became more tense.
“It’s been a big issue in these parts, especially in some of the isolated villages round here. ‘In breeding’ they call it. You’ve heard of people talking about village idiots. Well, that’s what they mean, simple people, often with a deformity and it’s usually from in breeding.”
“Well, you can’t stop them getting married,” replied Jack. “If it’s legal you can’t get in their way.”
“No, but we can tell them the truth and let them decide. You can’t let them go into this not knowing.”
“You can’t tell Evie the truth, not now, not after all this time,” replied Jack, becoming visibly agitated. “It would kill her. And what would she think of us? She’d turn against us. She’d know we’d lied to her all these years. You can’t do that, Jed.”
“But we can’t let Evie and Peter marry without knowing the truth. That would be immoral. I always knew this lie would have to end one day and I think that day has arrived.”
“It was meant to protect us all. Don’t you remember, Jed? You agreed with it. Alice wanted it and we all agreed. You’d be letting Alice down if you told Evie now.”
“I’m not sure Alice ever intended it to go on this long and I’m sure if she’d lived she would have told Evie herself. And there’s another thing, Jack.”
Jed paused and looked away out through the parlour windows to the wintry night beyond.
“It’s not just this lie - it’s the other one too. I want that out in the open.”
Jack looked coldly at Jed, his face hardening. “What other lie?”
“You know, the one about Flora and her girl Emma.”
“You better watch what you’re saying, Jed. You know nothing about me and Flora.”
Jed turned back from the window and faced Jack directly. “I was there, Jack. I saw it. I saw what you did to Flora. You took her forcefully, against her will. You raped her. And it’s to my everlasting shame I did nothing about it.”
Jack erupted into a violent coughing fit, wheezing and struggling to get his breath. It took over ten minutes before they were able to resume talking.
“You were there like a bloody peeping Tom and you watched. What does that make you?” demanded Jack with as much venom as his aching body could muster.
“It makes me a coward and I’m ashamed. But it doesn’t stop me doing what’s right now. If we’re going to tell Evie the truth - and we are, I promise you - let’s tell Emma the truth too. Let her know that you’re her father. Do what’s right, Jack, before you die. You were brave in them war years. Prove you’re brave now. Prove you haven’t lost it.”
There were tears beginning to trickle down Jack’s cheeks now. He looked his age. His body was thin and bent. He coughed mucus from his congested chest and struggled for breath.
“Jed, I’m begging you,” he gasped. “Do you really hate me that much? Is this your final revenge? Is this what you’ve been planning all these years – to let me go to my grave alone, with everyone against me. I’m begging you, Jed, don’t do it. No good’ll come of it.”
Evie was glad she’d taken a little trouble to dress up. She thought Peter had probably intended that they stop at a small pub on the way to Cromer but here they were, mounting the wide sweeping stairs up to the doors of the elegant Hotel de Paris. Peter had booked a table in the restaurant away from the dance band, making conversation less difficult. The restaurant was busy with couples and a few families. There was still a good smattering of uniformed military personnel with returning English soldiers slowly reasserting their presence in the vacuum left by the departed GIs. Evie and Peter chatted easily over their main course, avoiding subjects that might evoke pain or regret.
“I asked you here for a reason,” Peter announced when their plates had been cleared from the table. “I’ve thought about it a lot.”
“Peter, it’s alright. You don’t have to …”
“Evie, let me just say this my way. It won’t be stylish but it comes from my heart. I can’t live without you, Evie. I know that now. The way you’ve been with me and listened to me with all my worries about the war years, well, there’s nobody else I could tell all that to – nobody else I would trust. You’ve shown such loyalty and love to me that I want to return it. The trouble is, if you accept my proposal I can’t tell you what sort of man you’re going to marry. I don’t know myself any more. I know I’m not that man who kissed you under the oak tree before going to Singapore. That man’s gone, Evie. He died in some hell hole in the Malayan jungle. But I don’t know what’s left. Only you can help me find out. Will you take that risk?”
The next day was a Saturday and Jed returned from work about 2 o’clock. He was surprised to find Peter alone in the parlour.
“Oh, Jack’s in the sitting room having a snooze and Evie’s writing some letters upstairs,” explained Peter nonchalantly.
They exchanged pleasantries for a short while about Jed’s current building contracts and about the state of recovery after the war.
“Jed, there’s something I need to ask you.”
“What’s on your mind?” replied Jed, a little uneasily.
“Well, it’s about Evie and me. Jed, I’ve asked Evie if she’ll marry me. Do you mind? Will you give us your blessing?”
There was a pause as Jed gulped at a mug of coffee and turned to face Peter.
“I saw this coming, Peter. I saw that you and Evie were getting on well. Peter, I can’t give you my blessing – not yet.”
Peter looked bewildered and crestfallen.
“Why ever not?”
“Oh, it’s nothing to do you with you. I think you’d make a good husband for Evie. She needs someone who understands her and listens to her and, of course, loves her. You score high marks there. No, it’s not about you, well, not directly that is. But there is something that I have to tell Evie - about her past – something that might change how you’re both thinking about the future.”
“I don’t understand. Surely it’s down to Evie and me. How can her past affect how we both feel about each other now?” replied Peter, trying to restrain his anger.
“All I’m saying is that Jack and I need to talk to Evie, to tell her a certain truth and it won’t be easy. In fact, I’d like you to be here when we tell her – not in the same room but nearby. She may need you afterwards.”
It was agreed that they would speak to Evie that evening. Jed had asked her if she would join them both in the parlour at five because there were domestic issues they wanted to discuss with her. Evie assumed this was something to do with Jack’s care and resolved not to give way on the principle that she wouldn’t revert to being Jack’s nurse. Peter was briefed to stay in his room until he was needed.
Jack and Jed were in the parlour well before five. Jack looked frightened and frail. Jed stood by the fireplace trying to assume an air of authority. Five minutes late, Evie breezed into the room.
“Can we make this quick?” she suggested. “We’re going to motor into Norwich this evening - might see a show.”
“Evie, my dear,” began Jed, “your Uncle Jack and I have something to tell you – something that may distress you deeply. But you must remember at all times that what we did was in your best interests. We did it because we love you.”
Upstairs, Peter lay on his bed turning over in his mind what sort of issue was about to be revealed to Evie and how it could affect their plans to marry. Was she ill in some way? Was there some inherited disease or maybe lunacy that was passed down the family line? Maybe he shouldn’t have asked Jed’s permission. But Evie had wanted it. She had told him that Jed would be so honoured to be asked.
His thoughts were interrupted by a piercing scream. He leapt to his feet, unsure whether to race downstairs or to respect Jed’s wishes. Then he heard another scream, the sound of agitated men’s voices and a door banging violently. He rushed downstairs to find Jed by the front door and Jack holding his hands over his face by the entrance to the parlour.
“What’s happened? Where’s Evie gone?”
“It upset her. She couldn’t cope with it. She’s gone off.”
“What couldn’t she cope with?” shouted Peter, grabbing Jed roughly by the lapels of his jacket. Tell me, Jed. What have you just said to her?”
“I’ve told her she’s not my daughter. She’s Jack’s daughter,” spluttered Jed, his words constricted by Peter’s hold. “And that makes you cousins. So now do you see? You and Evie are first cousins. She had to be told. I couldn’t let the lie live on into another generation. Now you know the truth.”
Peter looked aghast. He said nothing. Simply looking at Jed and Jack told him that this was the truth. He released his hold on Jed and swung the front door open. Running to the gate he stared up and down Duck Lane. There was no sign of Evie. He decided to turn left towards the meadows. He was certain that was the route she’d take.
Evie reached the end of the made up road and stumbled onto the grass path. It had rained and the ground was soggy. Mud splashed over her legs as she ran. Her head was spinning. Her whole world had been shattered. How could her father, the man she had been brought up to trust and obey, turn out not be her father at all? And how could the loving uncle, who was always there to comfort her, turn out to be the one who had slept with her mother and brought her into this world? What did this make her? She wasn’t who she thought she was at all. She was somebody else.
She half stumbled, half ran along the path towards Offa’s Mount. She was crying out loud, pain welling up from inside. And what of Peter? What would he think now? Jed had explained that they were first cousins and that they needed to think carefully about the risks. Why would he take the risk of having damaged children? He would leave her and find somebody else.
Worst of all was her mother’s betrayal, allowing her all these years to believe that Jed was her father. Through her letters, Evie felt she had come to know her mother. She had let her into her life. She had become her best friend and confidant. But now she felt that she didn’t know her at all. Like the others, she had lied to her. She didn’t know any of them anymore. She felt completely isolated.
Peter arrived at the meadows, breathless and confused. Had she gone right towards the oak tree or left towards Offa’s Mount? He guessed the Mount and set off in that direction. He could hardly comprehend the enormity of the lie, to bring up a child not knowing that her father lived as a member of the same household. How could Jack have done that, allowing another man to bring up his child? And how could Jed, always so righteous and honourable, have subscribed to this deception? No wonder Evie had run from the house. She’d been betrayed - betrayed by those who professed to love her most.
“I told you that’d happen,” hissed Jack. “She won’t see it like we do. To her, we’ve lied, cheated on her, made her life a complete parody. And it’s down to you, Jed, you and your bloody self righteous streak. Why didn’t you just leave things as they were?”
She had twisted her foot and was out of breath. She could go no further. She crawled over to an embankment by a swiftly running stream. She lay on the grass, listening to the burbling water as it tumbled over rocks.
Suddenly, she felt so sorry for Jed. All these years she had treated him with indifference and scorn, reserving her affection for Jack. Jack laughed with her, spoilt her, gave her treats and stuck up for her when Jed was angry. Now she could see why. He was protecting his own daughter whilst refusing to acknowledge her as his own. Yet Jed had unselfishly taken on that responsibility. It was he who dealt with her tantrums, he who chastised her and he who set out the clear boundaries which had guided her upbringing. Even though she wasn’t his own child, Jed had willingly taken responsibility and raised her as his own.
“Evie, are you there? Where are you, Evie?” She recognised Peter’s voice not far from the embankment. She felt like remaining silent. She needed time to think and plan, like Peter had done when he returned from the Far East. But then she remembered how she had been frustrated by his silence and by being locked out of his life.
“I’m over here by the brook.” His head appeared over the embankment, sweaty and out of breath.
“Oh, thank God you’re safe. I thought you might have fallen into one of these streams.” He slithered down the embankment and put his arms around her.
“Jed told me,” he said. “He told me about the lie. It must be a terrible shock.”
“Of course, it’s a shock!” Evie retorted, sounding more aggressive than she had intended. “I’ve been lied to for twenty four years. I don’t know who I am anymore.”
“Well, that makes two of us then,” said Peter with a wry smile on his face. “Perhaps we’ll make a good team, both in search of our identity.”
“You know why Jed decided to tell me now, don’t you?” asked Evie.
“I can guess. I asked Jed this afternoon for his blessing. He said he couldn’t give it - not at the moment, not until he’d spoken to you first. He wouldn’t say what was on his mind, just that the time had come for the truth to be told.”
“So it turns out we’re first cousins, you and me. They say it’s not a good idea for first cousins to marry.”
“I don’t care what people say or think, Evie. I’ve told you I want to marry you and I’m not going back on that. Look, we’ve both come through an ugly war and survived. I’m not sacrificing our future now to some bit of rural folk lore.”
Peter arrived back at Hope Cottage as dusk was falling. He was carrying Evie in his arms. He took her straight to her room and they both stayed there that night. The following day, Evie remained in her room and declined requests from Jed and Jack to be allowed to talk to her. Peter was with her for much of the day, helping her to make sense of the new situation. What particularly worried Evie was the right or wrong of getting married to Peter. She loved him wholeheartedly but was it immoral to enter into a relationship knowing that their children were at risk?
Later in the afternoon, Peter went for a walk leaving Evie alone. She lay on the bed trying to digest some of the conversations that she’d had with Peter that morning. Her eyes alighted once more on the silver box containing her mother’s letters. A thought suddenly occurred. She took the box and opened the lid. One letter remained unopened. It was intended for her twenty-fifth birthday next May. She was honour bound not to open each letter until the appropriate birthday but everything had changed now. She no longer held her mother in the same esteem that she had before learning the truth about her father and she felt she was no longer bound by promises made under false pretences.
Nervously, she slit open the envelope and began to read.
Darling Evie,
This is the last letter that I will write to you. I am growing tired now and I sense the end may not be far away. Writing these letters has been such a comfort to me. They have helped me to feel that the end is not so final, that through these words you and I have kept our love alive over these past twenty years. I have spoken to you about thoughts and ideas that seemed important to me and that I hope have meant something to you too. But in a sense, all that I have been telling you has been preparing you for this final letter. Because, Evie, my darling, there is something that I have kept from you and that I must tell you now because it’s your right to know. As a result of this you may hate me but that is a risk that I must take. I hope that in time you can come to understand what led me to do as I did and to forgive me.
There is no easy way to tell you this. Daddy, my Jed, is not your father. Your real father is Uncle Jack. Maybe you already know this and have come to terms with the news. Maybe this comes to you as a terrible shock and is hurting you now terribly. Maybe you are crying and hating me. I am so, so sorry.
It’s a long story and I'm too tired to go into detail. Jed is a wonderful man. I married him because he offered me hope and a way out of the life I despised. But I didn't love him in the way I needed to. Then Jack came into my life and filled it with passion. My plans were all lost. I gave myself to this man because he opened my eyes to a side of me that had lain undiscovered up to that point. Once my soul had been awakened, there was no going back. And you, my darling, are the result. Imagine the hurt to poor Jed. Imagine the rejection of all the plans we’d made together. And so it was decided that we would try to remain a family. To the outside world, Jed would be your father and Jack would be your uncle. I think, my darling, that I thought that the affair with Jack would end quickly and then Jed and I could go back to leading a simple life. But then I became ill and it was clear that your future would lie in the hands of two men who had been brought to the brink of hatred through their love for me. It was a terrible situation to wish on both men and a terrible start for you, my dear, in life. I don't know what happened. I pray it turned out for the best.
What can I say to you? Sorry seems irrelevant. I did what I had to do and you were conceived in love. Be impetuous, darling, be yourself but remember that you have the capacity to hurt as well as to love. How you balance these two impostors is the greatest challenge you will face.
Good bye, my love, and may God bless you always.
Your loving mother, Alice XX
Evie wept as she read the letter. Her mother had fallen off the pedestal that she had placed her on but suddenly she had become a real person, someone who made mistakes but lived with them. Her mother was not a quitter. She had lived life fully and given herself to others with energy and commitment. Could she do the same? What would Alice have advised her to do? Surely Alice would go with the man she loved, regardless of obstacles. She would seize the opportunity and live with the consequences. Evie felt the bond with her mother renewing – not as some unapproachable idol, but as a real person, vulnerable, ambitious and loving.
The following day, Evie agreed to see Jed and Jack separately. She felt able now to talk to them without the anger that had gripped her in the previous days. Jed came to see her first. He told her again how sorry he was but that he felt the truth had to come out. She told him that he had been a good father to her and she would always go on thinking of him as her father. She asked him about Alice and about the affair with Jack. He told her that he always thought it would end, that one day Alice would return to him. For that reason he accepted the humiliation of having another man living in his house with his wife. Evie hugged him and told him that there was never a better father than he had been to her.
She met Jack in the sitting room. He was in his wheelchair by the fire nervously fingering a handkerchief.
“So you’re my father then?” she said in a matter of fact voice. “Yes, I am, Evie, and I have so missed being a real father to you.”
“I have a real father - Jed. And that hasn’t changed.” Jack lowered his eyes.
“Why did you do it – give up your daughter?”
“Because I loved your mother so very much. At the time it seemed the only way out. She wouldn’t leave Jed and I couldn’t live without her. I didn’t expect to live long. They’d only given me three years. I thought that after I’d gone Alice would get back with Jed and everything would be OK. By then I would’ve helped Jed build his business and he’d be able to look after you both. I’d just be a memory in the churchyard. That’s why I went along with it, Evie, but I’ve regretted it many times since.”
“Why, Uncle Jack?”
“Because I couldn’t have that intimacy and bond with you that a real father has with his daughter. Oh, I played the role of doting uncle alright and gave you sweets and toys, but we’ve never had a proper conversation. You’ve never let me into your heart, Evie.”
The next day, Evie insisted that she and Peter take a walk. It was blustery but not cold. The landscape was still firmly rooted in winter, milky white skies looking down on leafless trees and dormant fields.
“Where are we going?” demanded Peter.
“You’ll see,” she replied.
It soon became clear that they were heading for Offa’s Mount. Peter immediately realised that there was purpose in Evie’s walk and braced himself for whatever was about to happen.
They reached the top of Offa’s Mount and looked silently over the view that had already played an important part in their lives. Heavy rain clouds racing in from the east cast shadows across the landscape, interspersed with shafts of bright sunlight which lit the scene like a stage. In the distance, they could just make out the sparkling reflection of the sea. To the south and west, pastures and ploughed fields stretched as far as the eye could see.
“There’s something about this place,” said Evie. “It’s where we come when we need strength or when we need to begin again. It seems to have the power to create new energy.”
“Why have you brought me here, Evie?”
“Because I want to accept your invitation of marriage. I do want to marry you, Peter, with all of my heart and all of my soul. But I want you to ask me properly, here, now on Offa’s Mount. Because it’s special to us.”
Peter dropped onto one knee and took both of Evie’s hands in his. Wind gusted round the Mount and a break in the clouds allowed sunlight to percolate through. He had to shout against the rising wind.
“Evie Carter, I love you with all of my heart and all of my soul. I want to be with you forever. Will you marry me?”
The wind tugged at their clothes and drops of rain started to lash at their faces.
“Of course, I will, Peter. Of course, I’ll marry you.”
She dropped to her knees and they kissed, alone on Offa’s Mount with only the elements to witness their commitment.