Love Child
A Memoir of Family Lost and Found
1
I am playing on the parquet floor of the drawing room. The wood is golden, with dark lines that swirl like puddles when you jump in them. The wax gleams dull. It must be a cloudy day.
There are grown-ups in the room, but I don't pay them much attention. The atmosphere is somber. I feel like I'm the only one who's entirely alive, so I slide my feet across the smooth floor to prove it. I'm wearing woolly tights and no shoes. I want to make some noise because the silence is getting loud, but I'm a good girl so I don't.
"I want you all to come up to Ricki's room."
I don't have to look up to know whose voice that is: precise, almost fussy, with a funny lilt. It's my godfather, Leslie Waddington. He has tight curly hair and a nose like a bird's beak. One of my favorite books is a field guide to birds.
His words clang a sour note in my ears. Why, I wonder, should everyone barge into my mother's room when she's not there? She's been away for a few days, and won't be back for days more. You don't go into people's rooms without permission. Still, I've already reali ... read full excerpt from: Love Child: A Memoir of Family Lost and Found ebook
