March 2024 Writing

10 Sept 1996

Rearly wierd tonight. We’ve got this new projekt at scool. Mr Harris said for the first few weeks of year 4 we’d be talking about Family and we could write what we wanted. So I toled Mum and Nan at teetime and I thort Mum looked a bit upset and gave Nan a funy look. So then I looked at Nan and asked if she could help me do a Family Tree because Tim and Jake are doing 1. Well, youd think I’d called her a rude name, the way Nan shouted at me. Ruth was nearly crying. I dont know What I did wrong but thats the last time I talk about Dad or family. I’ll make up a family tree – Mr Harris wont know any different and he did say we could write whatEver we wanted

10 Feb 2023

Ruth’s got it into her head she wants to do our family tree. After all the kerfuffle at home when I mentioned it years back, it’s a closed subject as far as I’m concerned. But Ruth doesn’t remember.  She loves “Who do you think you are?” and has always wondered whether we have royalty or scoundrels in our past. Nan’s gone now and it’s probably too late to ask Mum as she’s so wrapped up in her own little world.

Ruth’s found Mum and Dad’s birth certificates and their wedding certificate but she can’t find Dad’s death certificate, so she rang me for more information. She’s 18 months younger than me and seems to think I must remember a lot more than she can. How old were you when Dad died, she asked.

It’s all a bit hazy in my mind but I remember coming home from school one day to find the house really cold because Mum hadn’t lit a fire as she always did. She and Nan were sitting at the kitchen table and stopped talking as soon as I walked in. Mum’s eyes were red and puffy and Nan’s lips were set. I looked from one to the other and eventually Nan said “it’s your dad. He’s been in a serious accident. He…” Her voice tailed off and Mum’s shoulders shook. After that, they never really liked talking about Dad or how he died and eventually, I learnt not to mention him, what with  the awkward silence that would follow and then the quick change of topic. I must have been 5 or 6 then. Ruth had our Dad’s full name and said she couldn’t understand why no death certificate was coming up for those 2 years.

                       * * *

The doorbell rings. It’s Ruth, breathless. “I know I should’ve rung Paul, but I had to come straight away.” She pushes past me into the kitchen. “Dad’s not dead! Never was.”

“That’s not true” I stammer. “He died in an accident. Nan said”

“No!! He’s alive, down south. I’ve spoken to him.” I stare at Ruth open-mouthed. My mind is reeling. “But Mum…. Nan said….”