She told me to keep him safe. I had done what she asked.

The little mite didn’t stop asking for his mama. Never mind that I kept telling him, I was his mummy now. Crying at every opportunity. I wondered if the tears would ever stop. I was just beginning to grow tired of looking at his red eyes and wet cheeks, when one day, he stopped and he gave me his first proper smile and I knew I was made for this job. I was always careful not to let anyone get close to him. I invented a new memory for him. A fire that destroyed vital paperwork and photographs. And he was to blame. He held onto that memory so tightly and I knew he felt the brunt of the guilt, but at least he would never suspect why there were no legal documents in his name.

I taught him to drive, told him lessons were a waste of money. We had a mile-long road leading to the beach house, so once he was old enough I allowed him access to the driver’s seat, and we went up and down that road every day. I then let him use my little car to drive to and from his gigs. He never questioned not getting a licence, because to him it was normal. He didn’t seem to strive for anything more than what he knew.

I knew we were running out of time once he met Daisy. She began to show him everything about the world that I refused to show him. I kept him sheltered for his own good. That night in July last year when he didn’t come home, well… then I knew. It was the beginning of the end.

But then he brought her here, into my home, pregnant! And she reminded me so much of her, of Jenny with her long golden hair and her perfect complexion. Of course he would fall for a woman like that, the image of his mother was imprinted on his brain.

How could Ben not be attracted to this golden beauty who bore so many traits like his own tall, handsome mother’s. The one whose face lit up the whole sixty inches of that TV screen that day in town. A mother who just wouldn’t give up. I refused to have a television or turn on a radio. I didn’t want to live my life on the edge. Out of sight, out of mind. Ben accepted it, never even questioning it once he started school and all the other kids had TVs. Such a good boy.

I changed Ben’s birthday from the 12^th of August to the 17^th of December. Just a few months’ difference. He was a tall lad anyway so it was never going to make too much difference. Besides, I adored Christmas and I wanted Ben to share his birthday with the most magical time of year. Pity he never really appreciated the season as much as I did.