July7th! No way that could be a coincidence. And the name Andrew Same first name, different surname and middle name. Its like adoption paperwork could swap a whole identity, even the name itself She stared at the portrait for ages, hoping to spot something familiar.
Emma Anderson, the head of the councils estates office, was processing the paperwork for a new cleaner. She picked up the phone and said:
Eleanor, could you come in? Your new shifts waiting.
A few minutes later Eleanor stepped into the little office and, without missing a beat, introduced herself:
Are you the new cleaner?
Thats right.
Im the caretaker, Emma Anderson, the boss said, smiling. And you are?
Eleanor, she corrected the puzzled look in Emmas eyes. Eleanor James.
Come on, Ill show you where youll be working, they left the office, chatting as they went. Youll be on the whole third floor
***
Eleanor was thrilled with the job. She beamed as she looked around her new domain:
Only two years left until I hit retirement, and I could even keep going afterwards. The pays £8,000 a month plus the occasional bonus. With David, well manage fine. The kids are grown and living their own lives. I cant even remember the mayors full name! Itll be embarrassing if anyone asks. Lunch is soon theres a photo of every mayor on the ground floor. How did I miss that?
***
On her way back from the staff canteen she passed a display board and read the mayors details: Andrew Barrow, born 7July1983.
Oh, hes still a young man. Not even forty yet, Eleanor thought, and then the memory hit her. Andrew! 1983.
She turned back, read the birthdate again, and the same words flashed in her mind:
July7th! No way that could be a coincidence. And the name Andrew Same first name, different surname and middle name. Its like adoption paperwork could swap a whole identity, even the name itself
She kept studying the portrait, as if hoping a familiar face would emerge.
***
The new job pushed any stray thoughts to the back of her mind. That evening she chatted with David in the living room, then each of them drifted to their own rooms to watch football. Their threebedroom house felt spacious now that the children had moved out. David still sometimes slept with Eleanor, but it was getting rarer.
Lying in her bedroom, Eleanors mind wandered back to her youth and to a secret shed never told David. Shed once had a son named Andrew. Shed been nineteen, broke, with no steady work. Shed been living in a cramped dorm from her trade college, nowhere suitable for a baby. After barely six months shed given the child up to a childrens home.
Three years later she married David. They never spoke about what happened before the wedding. Their two daughters arrived soon after. One studied at the university in the county town and later married there; her grandchildren now go to primary school. The younger daughter moved to London after getting married.
Eleanor never managed to get a professional qualification. For the last twenty years shed been a caretaker at a factory. The factory went bust and everyone was made redundant. Then a friends sister offered her a cleaning job at the council. She took it.
Now the mayor, AndrewBarrow, was born in 1983. Eleanor didnt complain about her life, but the thought of her son kept slipping into her thoughts, even showing up in her dreams. She just wanted to be sure he was alright, that the boy shed given away was doing okay.
***
A few days later Eleanor was tidying her floor when a voice rang out. Mayor Andrew Barrow was walking past, deep in conversation with a colleague. He gave her a quick nod and kept on his way.
In that instant Eleanor saw a flash of Vitaly, the lad shed been infatuated with forty years ago. Hed been cheerful and goodlooking then, and shed always imagined him as a serious, businesstype man. Seeing the mayor, she realised that the image shed built of Vitaly back then was exactly the one she now associated with Andrew.
Vitaly had left when he learned Eleanor was expecting a child, saying hed go off to earn money elsewhere. Shed waited, hoped, then finally understood hed simply run away.
Could the mayor really be my son? If Id never handed him over, maybe things would have turned out differently. My daughters are doing fine the older is married with a nice flat and a car, the younger is happy too. But my son theres no trace of him.
She wondered whether shed ever married David if shed kept the baby. Maybe Andrew Barrow isnt my son at all, she mused. Could there be such a wild coincidence?
It didnt matter much now. Hed been raised by other parents, who probably never told him the truth. His childhood seemed happy enough, and it wasnt every day a bloke from a modest background ends up mayor.
***
After lunch, Eleanors young colleague Olivia stopped by:
Hey, Aunt Eleanor!
Hi!
Were throwing a birthday for Lucy on Friday. She cleans the sixth floor and turns fortyfive. You in?
Absolutely! Eleanor grinned.
Thatll be £200, and bring a quirky salad or something special.
Sure thing, Eleanor handed over the cash.
Call me Olivia, not colleague, right?
Of course, Olivia!
***
Friday night, the staff gathered on the seventh floor. One office was empty, so they set up a table, poured drinks, and started the usual round of toasts, each followed by a sip of red wine.
The door swung open and in walked Mayor AndrewBarrow, beaming:
Happy birthday, Lucy! he handed her a small box. A little present.
Thank you, Mayor! tears welled in Lucys eyes.
Andrew, have a seat with us! the caretaker urged.
Just for a bit, he said, sitting beside Eleanor.
She served a fresh salad and slices of ham, filled the glasses, and the mayor raised a toast. Eleanor watched him, her heart thudding. She finally felt certain: this was her son.
Andrew lingered for about twenty minutes, said his goodbyes and left.
What a character! said Katie, the longestserving council worker, who seemed to know everyones story. The former mayor never imagined wed have him sit with us.
Has Andrew been here long? Eleanor asked.
About a year. Remember we elected him last year?
Eleanor drew a blank; David usually made the decisions for her.
You know his parents are wealthy, right? Katie continued. But they arent his real parents.
What? Lucy gasped.
It came out two years ago when he was prepping for the election. Supposedly he never learned the truth himself, and he didnt react at all.
Katie, how do you know all this?
The former mayors deputy, Olga Parker, had a hand in gathering information on Andrew, hoping her boss would stay in power. In the end, the old mayors allies lost.
Does he even know who his parents are? Eleanor pressed.
Probably not. He loves the folks who raised him. By all accounts, hes a decent bloke.
Eleanor stared at the door where Andrew had just been sitting, a mix of joy and melancholy swelling inside her. Joy that her son seemed to be doing well, sorrow that shed never get to hold him. She whispered to herself:
I wont bother you, son. Ill always be around, just in spirit.
And thats where the story ends.
