Four Waifs on Our Doorstep (34 page)

I was stunned, and full of emotion too. Some of the things she wrote in her letter really heartened me, that maybe I had done some things right after all, and a few of the
things I had said had stayed with her. The apologies struck me as genuine, though she didn’t directly mention what she did to Mike. Maybe that was too much to hope for.

Straight away I texted the only number I had for Stacey to thank her for the letter, to let her know I appreciated how hard it must have been for her to write, and to tell her I appreciated the
apologies and I sent her my love.

Only a few days later, two more letters arrived, this time to Carrie and Sam. Stacey had handwritten these. I never saw Sam’s. I don’t know what he did with it and he didn’t
ever talk about it. But Carrie was very pleased to have a letter to herself and showed it to me. Stacey had taken care to write a really chatty letter, remembering back to some funny times together
and, in between some affectionate phrases, she apologised to Carrie too.

‘I’ve never had a letter from Stacey before,’ said Carrie with a beaming smile. ‘Do you think she will come and live back home again?’

‘No, I don’t think so, love. She has her own life now, but maybe she will come back to visit. Let’s wait and see.’

Jamie had a letter as well. So now Stacey had apologised to me and to the other three. Mike was pleased for them especially, and he had read my letter a couple of times.

‘I’m glad she admitted the thefts,’ he said. But it’s what he didn’t say that upset me. He must have felt that we had heard from her and he hadn’t. We had all
had apologies, but nothing for him, and he was the one who was hurt most.

Finally one day, when I logged on to my emails, there was one from Stacey starting ‘Dear Dad . . .’. I went out onto the landing to call him, but of course he
couldn’t hear me, so I had to go and find him.

‘There’s an email for you from Stacey,’ I said.

‘Really? What does it say?’

‘I don’t know,’ I laughed. ‘I don’t read letters addressed to you, well not unless you want me to.’

‘OK, let’s have a look and see. Perhaps she’s after all the pocket money she would have had since she left!’ He grinned. ‘Why don’t you sit down with me and
we’ll read it together?’

So I brought in another chair.

We both sat back in silence, overwhelmed. After all this time, three long years, she had finally admitted how malicious she had been with her terrible allegation and apologised
direct to him.

‘Phew,’ said Mike. ‘She’s done it. A bit late, but she’s done it.’

On the following Saturday, I went to pick up Stacey in Durvale and bring her back to the city with me. She had asked me to go with her to the police station to retract her
allegation.

The journey into town was tense and silent. I could see she was petrified. I was petrified! I thought they might want to put her away for wasting police time.

It was a strange feeling, sitting with her, listening to what she told them as she took it all back, everything she had accused Mike of.

‘It was all lies,’ she admitted, and they wrote down what she said. Then I watched her sign the retraction with a flourish.

‘There!’ she sighed.

‘Well done, Stace.’ I gave her hand a squeeze as we left the interview room and went back to the car.

‘To be honest, Mum, it’s a great relief,’ she said. ‘Social Services next.’

So off we went and we walked in together. I let her hand over the second signed copy of her retraction at the desk. ‘Put that on file,’ she said in a steady voice.

I could see she felt good about herself, having done it.

‘Now let’s go back to the house for a cup of tea,’ I said. ‘And Dad is waiting to see you.’

Just for a moment, she looked uncertain. A wounded look, as if she might change her mind about seeing him, but then she seemed to compose herself.

‘Yes, I’d like to see the old place again, and especially Dad. But I’m frightened he might not want to see me.’

‘He does, Stace. He’s waiting for you now.’

When we walked in through the front door, Mike came into the hall, walked straight over to Stacey and put both his arms around her. She was as rigid as a board. I felt so moved that he had done
that and so sad that she had not been able to reciprocate.

We didn’t really talk about the letters she had sent or where things might or might not go from there. She told us about where she was living and some of the people she worked with. I felt
she had been through it enough for one day, so we kept the conversation light, almost as if she had never been away. Finally I drove her back home.

‘Dad is looking older,’ she said in the car. ‘It’s all my fault, isn’t it?’

‘Well, yes it is your fault in a way, because of the allegation especially, but you know it’s not
all
your fault. You didn’t choose the birth parents you had or the
terrible life you lived when you were little. You can rise above all that and be the different person you always wanted to be. But you have to tell the truth. No matter how bad things are, you have
to tell the truth, because with the truth we can fight the demons.’

‘Yes, Mum. You’re right. You always know the right thing to say. I wish I could do that.’

‘It took courage for you to go to the police station today and to admit you had lied.’ I paused to let that sink in. ‘And I think it probably took even more courage to come
home and see Dad this afternoon. I know he was very glad you did.’

29

O
ur golden wedding anniversary was only weeks away now and I really wanted to have the whole family together, including Stacey. I didn’t know
whether inviting her would do her any favours, especially if she thought everybody was going to forgive her. I knew that wasn’t going to be possible.

‘If she could be on her best behaviour,’ suggested Mike, ‘that might help.’

‘Yes, but it would be hard for her to cope with anyone’s disapproval.’

‘Time for another family powwow?’

‘Yes.’

So we invited them all for lunch one summer Sunday and I broached the subject in the afternoon.

‘Now that we’ve got the party planned for our golden wedding,’ I said, ‘let’s talk about the guest list.’

‘How many people do you want, Mum?’ asked Jane.

‘Well I’d like to come,’ grinned Mike, who had joined us for the discussion this time.

‘We could hardly do it without you, love.’ I put my arm round his shoulders.

‘Let’s have as many as we can squeeze in,’ said Laura, who always loves a big party.

‘Have we got that many friends?’ joked Mike.

‘Yes, let’s invite as many friends as we can. I’ll make a list. We’ll hire a marquee so there will be lots of space. It can be a day and evening do. And, of course we
want all of the family to be there.’

‘Except for Stacey,’ added Jane.

‘No, including Stacey, if she will come. I’ve talked about it a lot with Dad and we both want to invite her, then it’s up to her.’

‘That’s right,’ agreed Mike.

They all looked shocked, dismayed.

‘It will be hard for her to come and face you all, but she has written apology letters, as you know. And I went to the police station with her so I heard her telling the policewoman that
her allegation had been all lies.’

‘But none of that really matters,’ protested Jane. ‘The damage was done, and it was the most terrible damage she could have inflicted.’

‘She realises that now,’ I said.

‘Well I’m not coming if Stacey comes,’ announced Laura, who had always been Stacey’s friend before all this had happened.

‘Me neither,’ said Brett, and all of the family joined in.

‘We just can’t have her in the house, stealing our things like she always did,’ said Sam, who obviously felt strongly about this.

‘Yes,’ agreed Carrie. ‘She mustn’t go upstairs to my bedroom.’

‘It’s OK to keep in touch. We text each other sometimes,’ said Jamie. ‘But having Stacey here would be much harder for everyone.’

‘Especially with so many of your friends here,’ agreed Laura. ‘Knowing what she did to you both.’

‘I can’t ever forgive her for that,’ stressed Jane.

‘Phhh . . .’ I let out a long breath, disappointed, but hopefully not completely defeated. ‘Look, it’s just one day. If we haven’t brought you up well enough for
you all to just . . . I’m not asking you all to throw your arms around her. But it’s an important day in our lives, Dad and me. It’s an achievement, fifty years . . .’

‘You can say that again,’ laughed Mike.

I gave his arm a slap.

‘Did I tell you about the domestic violence?’ he asked everyone. It broke the ice a bit, which helped me continue with what I wanted to say.

‘It’s something we should celebrate, and I really would like us to celebrate as a whole family.’

‘Well, I’m not speaking to her if she comes.’

‘She can stay away from me too.’

The responses had changed just slightly, but was I asking too much?

‘Right,’ said Jane. ‘I think I’m speaking for all of us?’ She looked round and everyone nodded, so she carried on. ‘I accept that it’s your party, so
you should invite who you want to. We can all understand that. But it doesn’t mean we have to accept Stacey if she dares to come. It doesn’t mean we have to speak to her, and it
certainly doesn’t mean, and won’t ever mean, that we forgive her.’

‘I agree,’ said Anna, with little Carla sitting on her knee.

So I sent an invitation to Stacey, with a note saying that Dad and I would love her to come, but she must be sober and she must be on her best behaviour. She must try not to upset anyone and she
must agree not to go upstairs, under any circumstances. We wanted it to be a happy day, and we wanted very much to include her.

It was a few days before I received her reply, by text. Yes, she would like to come and she agreed to be a good girl.

The day came, the weather was dry, the marquee had been set up the day before and decorated by the family. We did all the last-minute things and then got dressed up ready for
the fray. It was amazing.

The whole long drive was like a procession of vehicles, stretching all the way uphill from the road. Soon the marquee was buzzing and it was wonderful seeing so many of our old friends together,
especially for us. If we’d had time, I think we would have felt quite overwhelmed by people’s kindness and generosity, some coming very long distances, just to spend a few precious
hours with us.

I can’t remember what time of the day Stacey arrived, but I remember she was driven over by two male friends in their battered car, and all three of them got out and came to say hello to
us in the marquee, then left in the direction of the house. I knew there were several people in there, including Carrie and Sam, so I didn’t worry too much. Perhaps Stacey just wanted to show
the house to her friends. But quite a few people had noticed her arrival and none of them had spoken to her as she passed.

‘Mum . . .’ Jane waved to attract my attention and pointed to the house.

‘I’m just going to see if the people in the house are all right,’ I said to Mike.

As I walked into the hall, both Carrie and Sam made panicky faces at me and looked pointedly at Stacey and the two lads who were halfway up the stairs.