Her Secret, His Son. Barbara Hannay

gift.

      That was how things were and how they must remain. Nothing more complicated than that.

      She gestured to the box. ‘This is very kind of you, Tom. You must come inside and give it to Ethan.’

      ‘Are you sure it’s OK?’

      ‘Absolutely. I’ll make some fresh coffee.’

      ‘I must say I’d like to meet Ed’s boy.’

      Mary stepped back to allow Tom entry, and as he walked past her into the hall she drew a sharp breath. He was taller and more broad-shouldered than Ed and he seemed to fill the narrow hallway.

      With the front door closed behind them she took Tom through to the kitchen, where the breakfast things were still on the table. Then she put the packet with Ed’s watch on the counter and resisted the impulse to dash about madly trying to clear away cups and bowls and cereal packets. She didn’t have to impress Tom; he hadn’t come to check out her homemaking skills.

      He stood in the middle of the room, holding the boxed gift in both hands.

      ‘Ethan,’ Mary called. ‘We have a visitor.’

      As the boy came running into the room her heart jolted painfully. Had Ed told Tom that he wasn’t Ethan’s biological father? She glanced from her son to Tom and saw the intense expression on Tom’s face as he stared at the boy.

      Oh, Tom, don’t look like that.

      For one horrible moment she thought the storm inside her might break through, but then she dragged in a deep breath and walked over to Ethan. The simple journey across her kitchen felt as dangerous as walking across thin ice, but once she reached the boy she drew him against her and brushed his fine blond hair with her trembling fingers.

      ‘This is my little man,’ she said, hoping her voice didn’t sound as shaky as she felt. ‘Ethan, honey, this is Tom. He’s a friend of your daddy’s.’

      A brief frown creased Tom’s brow when she said that, and she wondered if he expected her to add that he was also an old friend of hers. But they’d been so much more than friends and she couldn’t say that.

      ‘Hello, Ethan.’ Tom smiled and held out his hand, while Ethan hesitated and leaned shyly against Mary’s leg.

      ‘Say hello to Tom,’ she urged, giving him a gentle nudge.

      ‘Hello, sir.’ Ethan’s big brown eyes seemed bigger than ever as his hand disappeared inside Tom’s.

      To Mary’s surprise, Tom dropped to squat at Ethan’s level as he offered him the box. ‘Call me Tom,’ he said.

      ‘Hi, Tom.’

      ‘Your Dad told me about you. I figured that you probably like knights in armour.’

      The boy’s eyes widened and he nodded solemnly.

      ‘This is for you.’

      To Mary’s relief, her son remembered to say thank you without being prompted.

      ‘Would you like a hand to open it?’

      Ethan nodded and Tom set the box on the floor. For the next few moments the two males were silent and focused as they stripped the brown paper away and opened the box to reveal a toy castle, complete with towers, turrets and pennants. There was even a moat and a drawbridge.

      ‘Wow!’ exclaimed Ethan.

      ‘The knights are inside,’ Tom told him, and he swung a hinge that opened the castle.

      ‘Wow!’ Ethan breathed again as he reached in and drew out a model of a knight in shining plastic armour seated on a black horse. ‘Oh, this is so neat.’ He looked back to Mary, his eyes shining.

      ‘Aren’t you lucky?’ she said.

      ‘Is this from my dad?’ Ethan asked. ‘He said he’d bring me a present.’

      Before Mary could set her son straight, Tom said without hesitation, ‘Sure, mate, this is from your father.’

      Ethan’s eyes shone and Mary suppressed a choking sob.

      ‘Now, these guys with bows and arrows go up in the keep,’ Tom said, lifting out some models and setting them in place.

      ‘And this one can be riding across the drawbridge,’ Ethan chimed in excitedly.

      Mary was so absorbed by the astonishing sight of them together that at first she didn’t notice the way her eyes were brimming with tears again. When a damp splotch rolled down her cheek she hurried away to clear the breakfast things and to make coffee.

      After a while, Tom straightened again and left Ethan to play. He crossed the room to where Mary was taking a blue and white sugar bowl from an overhead cupboard.

      His eyes drifted to her feet and his mouth quirked into a grim smile. Mary followed his gaze. Good grief! She was wearing one red shoe and one lime-green. Heavens, there must have been two pairs of slip-on shoes under the kitchen table and she’d taken no notice.

      ‘So you still have trouble making decisions, Mary-Mary.’

      ‘I jumped up to answer the door in a hurry,’ she muttered as she crossed the room and extracted the odd shoes from under the table. She slipped off a lime-green shoe and swapped it for a red one. ‘There, that’s better,’ she said, forcing a tiny laugh. ‘At least I’m colour coordinated now.’ She was wearing a red shirt and blue jeans.

      She looked back towards Tom and their gazes linked. One corner of his mouth lifted into a tight, rueful smile. Was it her imagination, or could she see a shadowy sadness in his eyes as he looked at her for a long moment without speaking?

      ‘Ethan looks like you,’ he said at last. ‘Same big brown eyes and soft blond hair.’

      She nodded and gulped.

      ‘Ed’s mighty proud of him,’ he added.

      At the sound of his father’s name Ethan’s head snapped up. ‘My dad’s a Ranger,’ he announced with pride.

      ‘That’s right, General.’

      The boy’s eyes grew huge and worried. ‘Why did you call me General?’

      ‘It just kind of slipped out. That’s what your dad called you when he talked about you.’

      Ethan’s lower lip trembled.

      ‘That was Ed’s special nickname,’ Mary explained. ‘No one else called him General—only Ed.’

      ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t realise.’ Tom walked back over to Ethan, bent down and touched him on the shoulder. ‘Your dad and I were good mates.’

      Don’t talk in the past tense, Mary pleaded silently. Ethan’s very bright and he picks up on any subtleties.

      ‘Do you know when my dad’s coming home?’ Ethan asked.

      ‘No,’ Tom admitted with reluctance.

      The light died in Ethan’s eyes. He turned back to the knights and the castle and played with them quietly, keeping his head low, as if he needed to retreat. Sensing his mood, Tom backed away, but tension hovered in the air.

      Mary fetched milk from the refrigerator and set it and the sugar bowl on the table. After a very short while Ethan asked her, ‘Can I go back to watch TV?’

      ‘I guess so,’ she answered, nodding.

      The boy hurried away and left the castle and its splendid knights on horseback lying abandoned in the middle of the kitchen floor.

      Mary worried her lower lip with her teeth. ‘He’s not dealing very well with the bad news about his father,’ she said.

      ‘I dare say it will take a long time.’

      She frowned. ‘Why do you keep acting as if Ed’s already dead? Surely, while there’s