‘What with?’
There was a long pause, then:
‘Knife.’
‘Sorry?’
‘A knife. I keep one on me -’
‘For God’s sake, Robert. That’s how you get killed.’
‘Saved my life tonight though, didn’t it?’ he spat back, unrepentant.
‘Maybe.’
He lapsed into silence.
‘So let me get this straight. They attacked you first.’
‘For sure.’
‘And you fought back?’
He nodded again.
‘Did you injure them?’
‘Got Davey a bit on the arm. Nothing bad.’
‘Ok. Well, we can probably make that one play, but you’re going to have to cough to carrying the knife. Nothing to be done about that. I can probably get you out of here and back home, if I promise to stand for you.’
Robert looked up, surprised.
‘But I’m going to need you to promise me that you won’t carry again. You get caught with a knife a second time and I won’t be able to help you.’
‘Course.’
‘Do we have a deal?’
He nodded.
‘Right, let me talk to them. We’ll leave Davey to stew for a bit, shall we?’ Helen replied, a smile creeping through. To her surprise, Robert smiled back, the first time she’d ever seen him do so.
She was nearly at the door when he spoke.
‘Why are you doing this?’
Helen paused. She considered her answer.
‘Because I want to help you.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you deserve better than this.’
‘Why? You’re a copper. I’m a thief. You should bang me up.’
Helen hesitated. Her hand was on the door handle. Would it be safer to turn it and go? Say nothing?
‘Are you my mother?’
The question hit her like a sledgehammer. It was unexpected, painful and rendered her speechless.
‘My real mother, I mean?’
Helen took a breath.
‘No, no, I’m not. But I knew her.’
He was looking at her intently.
‘I’ve never met anyone who knew her before.’
Helen was glad she wasn’t looking at him. Tears had suddenly sprung to her eyes. How much of his life had he spent wondering about his birth mother?
‘How did you know her? Were you a friend or…?’
Helen hesitated. Then:
‘I’m her sister.’
Robert said nothing for a second, stunned by Helen’s confession.
‘You’re… you’re my aunt?’
‘Yes, I am.’
Another long silence as Robert took this in.
‘Why didn’t you come and see me sooner?’
His question cut like a knife.
‘I couldn’t. And I wouldn’t have been welcome. Your parents had carved out a good life for you – they wouldn’t have wanted me butting in, raking up old ground.’
‘I don’t have anything of my mother. I know she died when I was just a baby, but…’
He shrugged. He knew virtually nothing of Marianne and what he did know was a lie. Maybe it was better to keep it that way.
