The Secret Mother(62)

I nod, already aware of her illness. The press really milked this part of the Fishers’ story, it being doubly tragic that Dr Fisher was recently widowed when his son went missing. And doubly heart-warming when they were finally reunited.

‘Her doctor said they could try surgery,’ Angela continues, ‘but the risks were high. She decided to do it anyway. Without the operation, she would die. With the operation, she had a small chance to live. Dr Fisher did not want her to do the surgery because he said he might lose her too soon. But she insisted it was the best chance even though he did not agree.

‘The day before she went into the hospital for the operation, she called me into the drawing room, where she was lying on the sofa, all covered in blankets, even though it was warm in the room, with a fire and everything. She looked like a little baby bird. I wanted so badly to cry, but I told myself: Angela, you have to be strong. This lady does not need to see your tears. You need to keep being strong. To keep being her angel.’

Hearing Angela tell me about Mrs Fisher’s illness brings a lump to my own throat. I know that feeling of trying to keep it together for someone else. Trying not to let them see you’re breaking inside. Putting on a mask to boost them and keep them strong for whatever they might have to face next. I shake away the memories.

‘But I was not prepared for what Mrs Fisher told me,’ Angela says. ‘I thought she might be losing her mind, I thought it was the medicine making her confused. It made no sense, what she said.’

‘What did she say?’ I ask, leaning forward.

‘She wanted me to make her a promise. She wanted me to take Harry and give him to you.’

‘Fisher’s wife asked you to do that?’ I don’t understand what it is that Angela’s telling me.

‘I said to her, “You cannot give your child to someone else just like that. What about his father?” and I told her, “They will put me in prison if I take your child.” So she gave me a piece of paper. Wait, I will get it.’ Angela rises to her feet and leaves the room for a moment.

I try to digest what she’s told me so far, but I can’t work out why a dying woman would send her son to me, a complete stranger. Unless maybe her husband wasn’t a fit father and she wanted to get Harry away from him. But even then, it doesn’t make sense.

Seconds later, Angela returns to the room. ‘Here,’ she says, handing me a sheet of blue Basildon Bond paper, which has been folded into four. ‘Mrs Fisher gave me your name – Tessa Markham – and your address and she made me swear to take Harry to you after she died. I asked her who you were. You were her friend? Relative? She said it’s not important. I said, of course it is important. Of course.

‘She said I must tell Harry that you are to be his new mother. That if I didn’t do this, she is scared she will go to hell. She said something terrible has happened and only I can put this right. Me.’ Angela places her hand on her heart, her eyes wide, as though she still can’t believe what Mrs Fisher asked her to do.

‘She made me swear on the Virgin Mary. I did not want to do this, but she begged me. She gripped my hand so tightly. I looked at her and saw this frail woman, like a little feather. You would not think she had so much strength. But she was gripping my hand so hard that it left a mark. I don’t know what possessed me, but I swore to her on the Virgin Mary that I would do this thing for her.

‘Mrs Fisher, she was also Catholic like myself. Our faith is very strong. Dr Fisher, he does not believe in any God – he says he is a scientific man. But Mrs Fisher, she said her husband is a stubborn man, and even if he wanted to believe in God, he would rather go against his true feelings than change his mind or admit that he was wrong.’

Unfolding the sheet of paper, I’m hoping for a revelation as I begin to read Fisher’s wife’s spidery handwriting:

12 October 2017

I, Elizabeth Fisher, request that Angela Merida Flores take my son, Harry Fisher, to Tessa Markham and leave him in her safe keeping. Tessa is to be Harry’s new mother. I certify that Angela does this at my request and she should not be accused of any wrongdoing.



Below this brief message my name and address have been written out in full, followed by Fisher’s wife’s signature. But Elizabeth Fisher can’t have been in her right mind, because I’m pretty sure this letter wouldn’t legally absolve Angela of any wrongdoing. Taking a child from his widowed father without his permission has to be illegal, with or without his dead mother’s approval.

‘What happened to make Elizabeth Fisher think she was going to hell?’ I ask. ‘What did she do?’

‘Mrs Fisher would not tell me anything more. I asked her and I asked her, many times, but she was so tired then. She kept closing her eyes, and in the end, she waved me away and she fell asleep. After that, I never had the chance to speak to her alone, and I had a strong feeling that she did not want Dr Fisher to know what she had told me.

‘I thought, I won’t do anything until I have the chance to speak with her again after the operation. I thought that maybe when she told me this thing she was delirious. Dreaming. I don’t know. But then, after the operation, she never woke up. She died a few days after that. It was so sad. I was devastated for Harry and for his father. I tried to make everything easy for them in their house. But Dr Fisher, he was crazy with grief. I thought to myself, I cannot do what Mrs Fisher has asked me. It is not right to take the boy away from his father.