“John?” Yvonne shouted.
“She was upset; the Broadheads were a dead end, and it explains why he did what he did, doesn’t it?” John replied.
“Explains why he did what?” I asked sternly.
“Stepped off the Brigg,” John said matter-of-factly.
“He didn’t kill himself! Is that what you think, Yvonne?” I shouted.
“I don’t know what to think,” she mumbled solemnly.
I ran upstairs to collect my things. I wasn’t about to stay in that house a moment longer than I needed to; it was filled with liars and snakes. I walked into Harry’s old room, and I wanted to smash the place up. The walls were littered with pictures of him and his achievements, and the very smile I fell in love with was featured in every single photo. I wanted to rip them all off the walls and tear everything down. I collapsed on the bed, sobbing until I heard my phone beep.
Amelia, I sense you are getting closer to the truth. Seek out the woman. She can point you in the right direction.
If you are so psychic, why didn’t you tell me about this? Why can’t you just put me out of my misery?
The path makes itself clear, one step at a time. I only see the direction, not the destination.
Did he love her?
It was a fleeting encounter long before you met. Put your energy into finding this woman. She will point you further.
James’ message was actually quite comforting. As annoying as his style of writing was, he did have a knack for saying exactly what I needed to hear. I started to feel like I could rely on someone for the first time since Harry had died. It did feel slightly pathetic that it was a clairvoyant man I’d never met, but beggars can’t be choosers. My sobbing ceased, and I continued packing my things away. James’ words didn’t change anything, and I still needed to get out of that house.
Yvonne entered the room, and I couldn’t even make eye contact with her without clenching my jaw. I started to aggressively pack my things away, totally ignoring her presence. She remained standing in the room, waiting for me to speak, but I was far more stubborn than her.
“John has just told me. You’re pregnant?” Yvonne asked.
“Yes. And if you think you are having anything to do with it, you are mistaken,” I warned.
“It’s my grandchild, Amelia.”
“Not your first grandchild, though, is it?”
“I was going to tell you,” Yvonne began, sitting on the end of Harry’s bed, “I just didn’t know how. I hadn’t even spoken to Harry about it. I found out by accident.”
“Who was she?”
“They met on a night out at university. It was just a one-night thing. She got pregnant and didn’t know how to get in touch with him.”
“Is that why he had a second mobile phone? For his other family?”
“I don’t know, love. But he didn’t cheat on you, and Joshua was an accident from ten years ago.”
The whole thing made my skin crawl. When I was losing my mind because we couldn’t conceive a child, he was speaking to some tart he met at university about their son. Even though I didn’t want to, I kept picturing them together as a family, living the life I wanted. I knew I was getting carried away with myself, but if I wanted the truth, I’d have to find her and ask her myself.
“One more thing, love,” Yvonne started, “about the drinking, are you going to stop now?”
The brass-necked, unbelievable cheek of it.
“Are you for real?” I laughed.
“It’s bad for the baby.”
“I’ve just lost my husband. And you are the last person I would accept a lecture from about drink.”
“I’m just saying, that’s all.”
It couldn’t have been more obvious if Yvonne was holding a little flag ready to plant directly into my stomach. She was already making a claim on my body and my child, just like I knew she would. But I meant what I said. If I had my way, that woman would never even meet this child. Part of me thought that Harry would also actually approve of that course of action. She had already messed her own kids up, and she wasn’t going to be involved with mine.
“Did this Becky leave an address with the letter?” I asked.
“Not that I saw,” she replied.
“Harry must have kept it somewhere.”
“Amelia,” Yvonne said, putting her hand on my knee, “just leave this alone. You need to relax. You don’t want to put too much stress on the baby.”
“I need to know what was going on.”
“I know, but this will only end badly.”
I zipped up my packed bag and left Yvonne sitting on the edge of Harry’s bed, staring into space. I didn’t care about Yvonne’s opinion on the matter. I lost Harry at the height of our love, and I deserved answers. Being pregnant didn’t affect that. John gave me a nod as I walked through the kitchen. I wished I’d dropped him in it with Yvonne as a parting gift, but I didn’t have the energy.
I drove straight home; there must have been something in that house with Becky’s address on it. I doubt he would have kept the letter that was sent, but he must have scribbled it down somewhere. Harry was the most organised person I’d ever met, and he kept diligent notes about everything; it was engrained in him from his work. I cradled my stomach protectively as I sped down the motorway towards home. As much as Yvonne’s words didn’t matter to me, I couldn’t help but dwell on what she’d said. Who knew what damage I’d already done to the baby with the drink and the anti-depressants I was taking? I had been waiting for these fabled parental instincts to kick in, but I must have been born without them. I’d only found out I was pregnant after Harry had died, and to be honest, I was so numb about the whole thing that I didn’t believe it myself. We’d gone through so many failed attempts and early miscarriages that I didn’t think I’d get to full term this time either.
I felt like the entire world was against me. The list of people I could trust was growing shorter by the day. I always knew I couldn’t trust Yvonne and John, but I never thought they would keep something so important from me; they knew how it would affect me. Steve probably also knew about Harry’s son, and it’s what he was going to tell me the night he died, along with the Broadhead ballad. It was my own fault, really. I’d never had time for anybody else; I was just so wrapped up in our marriage. And with Harry gone, I was quite literally alone.
