I Need To Know - Part Four
“Well, “ she said, “Your birth Mum”. Mistaking this for a question I said “Yes please my birth Mother…..” as I tried to continue, she cut me off mid-sentence
“We’ve found her”.
I was slowly pacing up and down as people do when standing on the phone before. Now, I was quickly darting left and right not quite knowing what to do with myself. I ended up leaning against the wall in the far corner of the massive workshop at work by the fire exit, staring at the floor.
“What? But we haven't agreed on anything, I, I” I stuttered, “I mean, Wow, erm. Can you tell me how much it's going to be? '' I continued. “It won't cost you a penny,” she said. “We have decided to pick 3 cases from our database and do the searches for free as a Christmas gift, from us to you” I was silent, trying to take it all in as best I could. “Also, I've spoken to her and she is happy to speak with you”. She said,
If you agree, she has asked that I pass her number on to you”. Wow, that was easy! One message and it's done. Joan said she would call back tomorrow, to give me a chance to let it all sink in.
Intermission
I've just had to get away from the laptop, I've sat and written 1200 words in this section so far today and I needed a break. On the walk to the Tesco Express to buy milk and wine, obviously, an unusual emotional moment came over me. I needed to compose myself before I entered the shop. How strange. Sort of happy, then sad all at the same time. All these years on and my past still has a grip on me.
End of Intermission
That evening I spoke with my wife and my parents about the day's events. Everyone seemed thrilled that I'd gotten this far. The question of how I was feeling about it came up a lot and also the advice that I shouldn't feel obliged to make the call if I wasn't ready. How did I feel? The truth is, I didn't know. I was confused and conflicted and excited, I knew that much. But deep down I was ready for it. I am as confused and conflicted now as I was then about the whole ‘Birth Mother' subject. I mean, when all is said and done, I was relinquished by her at birth, what right does she have to hear anything from me? No thanks to her, I turned out ok, so i thought at the time. I didn't hear much from ‘Brian’ back then, nothing I felt I could blame him for at least. But then again. I deserve some answers to the questions that probably hadn't even formed yet. Fuck this. I'm doing it. The next day was Wednesday, Joan from ‘Searchline’ called in the morning, and a telephone call was set up for that evening to my birth mother. Oh shit, what had I done?
Work went by that day and I barely noticed its passing, choosing to focus mainly on the evening's call. My wife was going out that evening with our son to her mum's so I had the house to myself which was fine by me. I was concerned it might go badly and I didn't want to look stupid in front of people. 9 pm found me standing in the lounge at home (I couldn't possibly sit down at a time like this!) I made the call. My heart was in my mouth. What the hell was I going to say? It rang for way too long…. Come on… come on…
A click and man answered “Hullo?” I responded with a “hello”, a bit surprised a man's voice was on the other end of the telephone. Before I could explain the reason for my call I heard the next phrase, I remember it word for word as if its branded into my memory
“We know who you are and what you want, but you can piss off. I’m sorry but we are not interested…. Alright?” barked the man.
“Oh erm, ok” I managed to respond just before the phone line went dead.
Oh my god. What was that all about? I was not expecting that at all. I sunk myself into the sofa, tossed my phone onto the cushion next to me and stared at it in disbelief. For 15 minutes I sat there not being able to move or think or utter a word to the empty house around me. I was just coming around a little still trying to figure out what just happened when the phone rang. I answered, expecting it to be my wife or dad asking how it had gone…
“Andrew, Is that Andrew?” “Yes, this is Andrew,” I replied. “Oh hello, it's [Insert birth mother's name here] I'm so sorry about that, it's difficult you know,” she said. Yes, I thought, it is bloody difficult! “We didn't know what to do,” she continued. “Yes, it's not exactly been straightforward around here either, but I wasn't the one telling myself to “piss off” was I?” I wanted to say but didn't. I recall only five things from that 15-minute phone call that occurred, please don't judge me for this;
I was hurt by the initial “piss off” vibe.
She firmly believed I was born 10 days earlier than my recorded birth date.
She said I sounded like my ‘dad’.
She said she sometimes sees my dad around and he has 2 children.
She sounded very uneducated.
It’s funny that I can remember the minutiae of the events pre and post-the conversation, but hardly anything of the call itself.
Also, the mention of me “sounding like my ‘dad'’' and him having kids was put across to me as if I was standing in a chip shop and asking for salt and vinegar. Did she not realise that this now meant I had other siblings? And not to mention, her seeing my dad around! That ‘man’ doesn't even turn up on my birth certificate, now he's wandering around like a proper human. A small part of me hoped he was dead, but it turns out he's been spared and been allowed to have more kids. At least he kept them I suppose.
She told me that it would be nice if we could speak again and if I agreed she would leave it to me to get in touch. I deleted the number and I never did.
The whole event left me with a nasty taste in my mouth. I was annoyed, I felt cheated and not considered, at the time of my birth and then again in 2003 and I had no intention of following any of that up.
As you can imagine, with the wind knocked out of me I chose not to pursue any more searches and thought I'd put it behind me and just get on with now and stop torturing myself by looking back. Onwards and upwards Wallis!
Jumping forward to 2012 now and a Facebook message that took me completely by surprise said “Does the name David Charles Rice mean anything to you?”
To be continued.
Image: © Andy Wallis
