Every family has secrets. But some have more than others.
“Five Siblings at 23 is a truly beautiful story which is full of emotion. You will laugh and cry, with moments that will touch your heart. Paul Ilett writes so beautifully, his words woven in a manner which will draw you into the book, and captivate you until the final page.”
☆☆☆☆ Priya Murugesan, The Online Bookclub
On Charlie Fletcher’s 23rd birthday, he decides to tell his dying mother that he’s gay. Knowing she does not have much time left, she shares a secret in return. But it’s a far greater family secret, one that will have repercussions for Charlie and his siblings for years to come. Because the Fletchers are a family with more than their fair share of skeletons in the closet, and as one of the most closely guarded secrets is finally revealed, are others about to be uncovered too?
In an epic tale spanning more than two decades, we visit the family each time one of the Fletcher kids is 23 years old. Through the years, we follow their joys and heartbreaks, their successes and tragedies, as they discover you can't escape your past.
Every family has secrets. But some have more than others.
“Five Siblings at 23 is a truly beautiful story which is full of emotion. You will laugh and cry, with moments that will touch your heart. Paul Ilett writes so beautifully, his words woven in a manner which will draw you into the book, and captivate you until the final page.”
☆☆☆☆ Priya Murugesan, The Online Bookclub
On Charlie Fletcher’s 23rd birthday, he decides to tell his dying mother that he’s gay. Knowing she does not have much time left, she shares a secret in return. But it’s a far greater family secret, one that will have repercussions for Charlie and his siblings for years to come. Because the Fletchers are a family with more than their fair share of skeletons in the closet, and as one of the most closely guarded secrets is finally revealed, are others about to be uncovered too?
In an epic tale spanning more than two decades, we visit the family each time one of the Fletcher kids is 23 years old. Through the years, we follow their joys and heartbreaks, their successes and tragedies, as they discover you can't escape your past.
Charlie Fletcher stood outside the small Victorian manor, smartly dressed in his best navy suit and clutching a small bouquet of pink tulips. It was raining softly, a cold March breeze whistling across the grounds, but he barely noticed the weather. From the moment he’d arrived at the entrance, he had found himself unable to go inside, as if the longer he stayed in that moment, stood quietly in the rain, he could somehow hold time in its place. It was his birthday, his twenty-third, the last birthday he would ever share with his mother, and he did not want the day to end.
There was so much he wanted to talk to her about, so much that he wanted to share, things he’d never told her. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his life believing his own mother had never truly known him. But the days had passed at such a cruel pace, and Charlie had never found the right moment to share with her the quiet truths about himself. Now she was receiving end-of-life care in a local hospice, and all he could do was stand in the rain and wish time would stop still so nothing bad could happen to his mum.
‘Would you like to come in, my dear?’
It took a moment before Charlie registered that someone had spoken; he glanced to the entrance and saw a woman smiling at him, her hand held out in his direction. She was in her sixties, wearing a dark grey trouser suit and had the air of someone who had been through this process many times before. Charlie was not sure whether to take comfort in her demeanour or feel sad that his mother would soon become just another poor soul who would see out her life under that roof with so much time left unlived.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I just lost myself for a moment.’
‘That’s quite alright, dear. But do please come inside.’
Suddenly in motion, Charlie found himself walking next to her through the doors and into the quiet reception area.
‘Susan Fletcher,’ he said. ‘She’s my mother.’
The woman gestured for him to take a seat. ‘I will go and check she’s awake for you,’ she replied. And once Charlie had sat down, she walked behind the reception desk, picked up the phone and proceeded to have a quiet conversation.
Charlie looked directly across the room and realised he could see himself reflected in the mirrored back of an empty display cabinet. Droplets of rain glistened in his dark hair, and he noticed his eyes – the same deep brown he had inherited from his mum – were glistening as well. He knew she would not want that. She would want him to be brave and to enjoy his birthday.
His younger sister and brother, Vicki and Billy, had wanted the same, to make the day as happy and as normal as possible, although he suspected that was as much for themselves as for him. There had been a homemade cake at breakfast, with a cheerful chorus of ‘Happy Birthday to You’, followed by cards and presents.
Billy had bought him a t-shirt with the slogan ‘I Survived Y2K’, and Vicki gave him a couple of CDs and a bottle of cava. His father had put in a brief appearance, but Charlie had noticed his dad’s thick blonde hair was unbrushed, and his clothes were creased as though he had slept in them, which was unusual for a man who always took great pride in his appearance. He stayed just long enough to hand Charlie a £20 note and wish him a happy birthday before making his excuses and returning to his bedroom.
His mum’s best friend, Carol, had popped in with birthday gifts she had bought on behalf of his mother. Her son Tyler was with her, just eight years old, but a thoughtful young boy who’d made Charlie a batch of chocolate brownies for his birthday and presented them proudly with a homemade card. Carol had spent a few moments upstairs, speaking with Charlie’s dad. Charlie couldn’t quite make out what they were discussing, but at one point, their voices had been raised, and after about five minutes, Carol returned to collect Tyler, and then they had left. No one mentioned the argument. Instead, they simply tidied the kitchen, after which Billy left for school, and Vicki made her way to the local bus stop to get to work.
Charlie had showered and dressed and driven himself to Southend Hospital to spend some time with his new baby sister Elizabeth; the family had already decided to call her Lizzie. The staff in the neonatal unit understood the very difficult circumstances into which Lizzie had been born, and so had been able to provide Charlie with some private time during his visit.
He picked up some flowers for his mum at a little florist shop before making the difficult journey to the hospice, where she had agreed to be transferred less than a day after giving birth. The previous few months had been unforgivably cruel to his mother. At first, she had been offered the joy of an unplanned pregnancy at the age of forty-six. But too soon after, there had been that awful day when something unexpected had shown up during her first prenatal appointment.
And then there had been all the terrible, dark days that had followed, where every glimmer of hope had been extinguished with brutal speed. Amidst all the anger and fear and loss, Charlie could only watch helplessly as his beloved mum tried to steer focus away from herself and make sure everyone remained excited at the imminent arrival of a little baby girl.
‘Your mum’s ready for you,’ the woman said. ‘It’s Charles, isn’t it?’
He stood. ‘Everyone calls me Charlie,’ he replied politely, following the woman from the reception area into a long corridor that contained half a dozen doors leading to private rooms, each of them with a sign naming the occupant.
‘We have your father, Peter Fletcher, as the emergency contact,’ she said. ‘But we only have a home number for him. Is that right?’
‘There’s usually always someone there,’ Charlie replied, ‘so it is the best number to get us on.’
‘And I hear you have a little sister now,’ she said.
Charlie nodded. ‘Little Lizzie. Six pounds and eight ounces. Quite a miracle, really. I have photographs for Mum. We bought one of those instant cameras. You know, like they used to have back in the eighties? So, we don’t have to spend time getting them developed at the local chemist.’
The woman stopped outside one of the doors, which carried a small sign reading ‘Susan Fletcher’. ‘Sounds like your mum was quite a miracle,’ she said.
And then, with a less jovial tone, she added, ‘You know that she’s been through a lot over the past week, and I think labour took the last of her strength. She’s very frail now. She is not in any pain, but I do want to tell you, my dear, that I don’t think we have much more time with her. There is a buzzer next to her bed, so please just press it if you are worried about anything.’ And then, before she left, the woman gently held Charlie’s arm. ‘Are you OK?’
Charlie tried to reply, but a lump in his throat stopped any words coming out of his mouth. Instead, he just nodded. The woman offered him a reassuring smile and then left. Charlie took a moment to prepare himself, and then he opened the door to the room.
He could feel himself weighed down by his secret, wracked with uncertainty as to whether he should unburden himself. Would it be selfish, he wondered, or would his mother be pleased to hear of his happy life away from the family home? But as he stepped inside his mother’s room, he had no idea she had a far greater secret she intended to share with him.
Taking tentative steps toward his dying mother's hospice room, Charlie Fletcher is weighed down by the secret he's been keeping from his family. With his mother's days numbered, he thinks she must depart this world knowing who he really is. Worried that this will be the thing that tips his mother into the grave, he is shocked to find that his little secret is a quietly known fact. But his mother has actual files of her own that she wants to dish out. Leaving him (and me) with more questions than answers, Susan Fletcher pulls the rug to reveal the heap hidden underneath it and knocks Charlie (and me) off his feet.
Five Siblings at 23 by Paul Ilet starts on the day Charlie turns 23 and celebrates with his siblings Vicki and Billy then goes to see their newborn sibling, Lizzie, in hospital. Right from the beginning, I was hooked and the book never let go, so I kept turning one page after another seeking answers and explanations. It was such an engrossing read that I found myself exclaiming, smiling along, and being saddened and nostalgic over memories that are not mine.
Other than a tiny writing error here and there, there is not much to fault about this book. Although it is a lengthy book, it was a quick read. The short chapters and the story kept me convincing myself that I am just going to read one more chapter. If you enjoy family drama, this might be the book for you. Seeing Charlie carry the secret his mother has placed on his shoulders back to his life while she exits life is heavy. Watching him try to learn how to carry it so that he does not crumble under the weight of it when he had actually gone to unburden himself in that room is such a turn of events that the reader cannot help wanting to see how the story unfolds.