The Crush by Scott Monk Page A

‘Why won’t you believe that you’re my grandson? Isn’t that why Heather sent you here?’
    He spun round. ‘No. I came here because I found these letters hidden in her room.’ He pulled them from his back pocket and fanned them in front of her. ‘I also came here to tell you to leave her alone. You can take us to court but we don’t have any money. And it’s not as if you need any more.’
    â€˜Heather doesn’t know that you’re here?’
    â€˜No. And she won’t either.’
    Stopping, the lady paled. ‘We might have a problem then.’
    â€˜You’ve got that right. How dare you threaten my mum. She’s struggling enough without your grief.’
    â€˜Matthew, come with me,’ she said, walking back towards the kitchen.
    â€˜Why should I?’
    â€˜We need to talk.’
    â€˜No, I’m out of here,’ he said, reaching for the door handle.
    â€˜Matthew, just give me a second.’
    â€˜I don’t want to—’
    â€˜Please. It’s very important. For you and your mum.’
    Breathing in, he wanted to shout some more but the fright on her face was genuine. Momentarily, he collared his anger and followed her into the kitchen.
    â€˜Take a seat.’
    â€˜I’ll stand.’
    â€˜I insist.’
    â€˜I don’t care. Tell me what you have to say, so I can get out of here.’
    Beaten, she sat down and nursed her orange juice. She looked out the bay windows and watched the finches hop between branches in their aviary. Small shadows hid in her wrinkles as the sunlight streamed inside. Slowly, she drank a mouthful, swallowed and asked, ‘How much do you know of your mother falling pregnant?’
    â€˜Enough.’
    â€˜Nothing, in other words.’
    â€˜So?’
    â€˜So are you interested in the truth?’
    â€˜Of course. But I won’t hear it from you.’
    The lady gave a pained smile. She was tiring of his stand-offish behaviour. But he was sick of her lies.
    â€˜When your mother was fourteen,’ the lady began, ‘she fell pregnant to a sixteen-year-old boy she’d met at a party. They were both from bad crowds and known to do crazy things. Your mother had snuck out of her parents’ house to go to the party and your father—that is, my son—had gatecrashed it. There were no adults at the party, but plenty of beer.Something was bound to happen. Before long, your mum and dad were drunk and flirting heavily with each other.
    â€˜Your dad said to your mum that he wanted some air, so the both of them went for a walk along the nearby river. Your mother was slimmer and more attractive back then so it was natural that your dad became interested in her. They kissed some more before they, well, you know what happened next. Your mother was worried about getting pregnant but your father foolishly convinced her that it couldn’t happen on the first time. They were lying on the river bank when the police arrived at the party and scared everyone away. Your parents escaped through a back street.
    â€˜Two months later, your mother found out she was pregnant and told your father. He panicked and wanted her to prove that he was responsible. But of course he was the only person she’d slept with. That was my son. Always denying things. I tried bringing him up the right way, but he never listened to me. Eventually, after a lot of tears, your father agreed to take care of your mother as long as she didn’t say a word to their parents. But you can’t hide a pregnancy for long and so we all found out.’
    â€˜My mum says she never knew who my dad was,’ Matt scoffed.
    The lady shook her head. ‘Typical Heather. Always trying to rewrite history. The truth is your mother knows exactly who your dad is. He was at your birth. We all were.’
    â€˜So what happened?’ he asked, taking a seat.
    â€˜After you were born, your father panicked. He