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Back One Winter Morning Save as PDF
Chapters (56)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. By the same author
  4. Dedication
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. Acknowledgements
  54. Read More
  55. Two Years Later
  56. THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING

‘It was,’ I manage. Then, as her words sink in, ‘You knew her?’

‘Enough to know what an amazing mother she must have been.’ Bonnie confirms. ‘She kind of became like a mother to me for a while.’

‘She did?’ I sit up straighter in surprise.

‘I lived with her and David while I was pregnant with you,’ she explains.

My brain feels like a washing machine that has been set on continuous spin.

‘What?’ I splutter. ‘You lived with them? I know they met you, but not that you lived with them? I don’t …’ I begin, mouthing with confusion. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘There is so much I need to tell you,’ she says. ‘That’s what I’ve been doing all this time in England, I’ve been writing down my story for you.’

I shake my head as I try to take in what she is saying.

‘You wrote it down? For me?’

Bonnie nods.

‘I thought it would help, and make it easier.’ A pause. ‘For both of us. You can read through it all, and then we can talk properly.’

‘Sorry,’ I say, talking over her. I am unable to articulate quite what I’m feeling, which is an odd mixture of fear, relief and bewilderment. ‘I just … I don’t know where to begin with all this.’ I had thought it would be me leading the interrogation, that I would be the one calling the shots of our first conversation, but Bonnie is way ahead of me. I feel like a sprinter who’s been overtaken in the final seconds of a race.

‘How about you start at the beginning?’ suggests Bonnie. ‘I think it’s about time you heard the whole story – if you want to, that is?’

I wish that Anna were here, that she could give me a comedy thumbs-up like she always used to and tell me that everything is going to be fine, and that no matter how tough the truth is, I need to hear it. I deserve to hear it. But she isn’t, and that means it is up to me to do the brave thing. This is my story, after all, and nobody but me can make the decision to hear it.

‘You’re right,’ I say, turning to face my mother. ‘It is definitely time.’

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41

It is mid-afternoon by the time Bonnie and I emerge from the hay barn. A persistent sun is casting lazy shadows across the yard, and horses doze over the open half-doors of their stables. Tui is up on the mounting block with Beavis, the two of them lost in a make-believe game, while Allie sponges down the ponies that have not long returned from the last ride. She seems to be in better spirits, and gives me a friendly wave as I pass.