Stranger at Home

2008

Kelly was improving in her gymnastics all the time, so much so that her coach, Tracy, phoned Karen one day and asked to meet up and speak with both of us about her exceptional talents.

"Your daughter is the most incredible gymnast I've ever seen", she told us. "I've been working here for twenty-two years now, and I've never seen anyone quite like Kelly. I really believe she'll be at the next Olympic Games after this one – London 2012.

We were obviously thrilled with the news, but later decided not to get our hopes up – there was a lot of competition these days in the world of gymnastics, and Kelly was still four years away from London yet. Anything could happen in that time.

"How can you tell, at sixteen years of age?" I asked Tracy.

"Believe me, I know", she replied. That was all I needed to hear, I suppose. I could not really argue with that. The woman had been coaching for over two decades – I guessed she knew what she was talking about.

The coach continued. "Now, there is the decision to make of how many hours you want Kelly to give to this. It could mean missing out on a fair amount of schoolwork".

Kelly was in the middle of her GCSEs. She wanted to go to college, I knew that, but at the same time, this opportunity had to be taken seriously. This could turn into a lasting career for Kelly, and we knew we could not get this wrong, whichever decision we made.

"We'll let Kelly decide", Karen said, making the decision for the both of us. "It's her life, and she's old enough now to decide what she wants to do with it. Have you spoken to Kelly about this?"

"Several times, and she does want to up her hours to practice, but it will cost more obviously".

"We don't mind paying extra", I said, knowing that Karen would feel the same way.

"Kelly has even offered to fund some of it herself", Karen added, referring to the part-time jobs Kelly had been working recently. She was a very busy girl, our daughter. The money she made from work would only contribute a small amount overall to her lessons, but her work ethic was there, and she was passionate about what she did. We had to make this work for her.

"I'm glad you feel that way", Tracy said.

"I'm still taking her education seriously, mind", Karen pointed out. "She needs to have some qualifications under her belt".

"And she will", Tracy replied. "She's a bright girl, and she'll go far in life whichever path she chooses, but it is my belief that she is destined for the Olympic Games. I could even arrange to have specialist trainers come in alongside me if you like".

"It's alright", I said, thinking of how much that might end up costing. "Your professionalism has always impressed us".

I had seen Kelly perform many times – in school, in local clubs, gym performances, our front room. I could see by the way she moved, the positions she perfected, that there was something special in her gymnastic abilities, and it made me even more prouder as a Dad to see that she had overcome her eating disorder and was starting to make something of her life. There was no doubt about it that she was talented, but the cynic inside me told me that it was all too good to be true, that the coach was having us on, and that she was abusing her own position of trust to fiddle some more money out of us because we knew that she was capable of great things, but at the same time, not necessarily at the highest possible level. Still, our decision was final, and Kelly was more than happy to devote a lot more time to the sport she adored so much. It turned out that she did not have to miss much school at all, and she worked her way around her exams, which she did rather well in.

While all this was going on, as Matthew was settling down with Rebecca and Lily (they had announced their engagement on Valentine's Day that year, although there were no realistic chances of affording a wedding anytime soon), Matthew told me that Rebecca was pregnant again. At first, I sighed and put my hand to my head, although that was out the way of Matthew to prevent an argument, but again I later decided that it was not so bad. They were doing alright with Lily, so why not manage with this one? That year I slowly started to realise that Matthew was not a child anymore, and he was a responsible, mature adult. That recognition made me feel even older.

In October 2008, Rebecca gave birth to our second grandchild and first grandson, Joshua. As with all our children and grandchildren, he was beautiful.

One night towards Christmas that year, it was just me and David in the house. Karen had taken the rest of the kids to a show or somewhere in the city centre, and David and I were not bothered about going. It was rare, just me and him being together, so we decided to have a lad's night in – pizza and Xbox. In those days, it would have been FIFA 08 and Call of Duty 4: Modern Warfare. Games have developed since then, but I enjoyed the older games the most – they gave me the best memories with my sons (and Molly, she was quite the gamer too), unlike the games that come out today such as Fortnite. If I'm not mistaken, I think Fallout 3 came out that year as well – one of the greatest games ever, in my opinion (although it could never match up to New Vegas, which was still a few years from release at that point). I borrowed New Vegas after David was finished with it, and that one was perhaps my favourite game of all.

As David was thrashing me on FIFA (he did every time), we got talking about my family. I had shown him the photo album that Mary gave me, the one which contained pictures of my parents and grandparents, but David wanted to know more. I could recall having a conversation like this when he was much younger, but he had reached an age where he deserved to know the story in more detail.

"I never knew much about your parents", he said. "I know it's been sort of taboo in this house for obvious reasons, but I do want to know more about who they were".

"I don't talk about them because I don't know what to tell you, son", I explained. "What can I pass on about my parents when I really don't know who they were? When one of them killed their own child, but I don't know which one?"

"But you must have an inkling..." he said.

"I did for a long time", I replied, wondering just how many people had said that to me over the course of my life. "I thought it was Jessie, your grandmother, but now I'm not so sure. Mind, I'm not sure if Harry did it either".

"So, you're saying it was someone else?"

"I'd love to believe that, really I would. But no, they both blamed each other for the murder. It would make no sense for it to be anyone else. It had to be one of them".

"I hope I'm not upsetting you", David said. I then suddenly remembered that he was studying criminology. Something like this would have come up time and time again in the things he had read or listened to in lectures. No wonder he was fascinated to know more. Once he finished his degree, I would ask him what he thought of it all, because I would have valued his insight from his perspective.

"No, not at all. It's only what's been in my head my whole life anyway", I replied.

To tell the truth, I was quite upset, because the mention of them put a dampener on the great night we were having, but David wanted to know more. How could I deny him that? I bet most of his friends at university still had at least some grandparents who were still alive – his were all long dead.

"Believe me, David", I told my son. "It's best to just forget about them. I've chased this and chased it all my life, but then I realised, the answer is probably never going to come. That's the harsh reality of life – I'll go to my grave never knowing the truth. And you know what? Maybe that's for the best. Maybe wanting is better... or less bad, than knowing".

"I don't know about that", David replied. "Once you know, you know. You can have closure, whether the truth is what you wanted to hear or not".

I sighed. "And either way, the truth would never be what I would have wanted to hear. It's tragic news either way".

"Which one do you want it to be? I mean, which one would you be more devastated by if it was them?"

The answer to that one was easy: "Jessie. I'd be more upset if it was her".

We said little else about it after that. I thought the conversation would go somewhere, with David asking me that, but it didn't. I suppose he was just inquisitive. The conversation did open my mind to it again, though. I had done well up to that point, not to think about it, but over the weeks afterwards, I could not stop thinking about it. I also started to get upset over Jessie again, because she would have loved to have met all her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. It would have provided her with a new lease on life, having such a large family.

Then, one day shortly after Christmas, Karen gave me an idea. She suggested something which once again transformed my life and gave me a way to make good come out of the upsetting and frustrated thoughts I was having.