Forgotten Child (2 page)

When Robin awoke the next morning, he could hear the sound of raised voices. It was always the same when his father was home, the atmosphere rotten until he left again.

There was a soft tap on his bedroom door and moments later Jenny poked her head into the room, hissing softly, ‘Robin, are you awake?’

‘Yes.’

‘Mummy and Daddy are arguing.’

‘I know.’

‘I heard my name mentioned and think it’s about me. Have I done something to upset her?’

‘I haven’t got a clue. Now just bugger off, Jenny.’

‘But—’

‘Just go!’ Robin snapped, relieved when his sister did as she was told. Yes, his parents were rowing, but it was nothing unusual. He blamed his father for his mother’s unhappiness, and it was odd that they slept in separate rooms. There had to be a
reason, a problem, perhaps his father’s, and Robin wondered if it was something that could explain his own disgusting feelings. Had he inherited some sort of deviant sexual tendencies from his father?

Yes, he knew about sex now, but the knowledge brought him agony. What he felt wasn’t right – what he wanted wasn’t right – yet night after night he lay awake, so aware that Jenny was only in the next room. She was his sister, and all he should feel for her was brotherly love, but from the moment he’d seen her small, burgeoning breasts, his feelings had begun to change.

If anyone found out they’d be horrified, sickened, so the only way Robin could deal with it was by pretending indifference, hiding his feelings behind the same facade his mother portrayed. He knew it confused Jenny, probably hurt her, but it was the only way to keep her at a distance – a safe distance.

Despite that, the temptation was always there and Robin knew he couldn’t stand much more. He’d be finished at college next year and hoped to get the A level results he needed to go on to university. He had to be away from this house…away from Jenny.

Annoyed at the interruption when the milkman knocked, Delia impatiently rummaged in her purse, saying as she opened the front door, ‘I think this is the right money, but I hate this new decimal currency. I’ll never get used to it and why we had
to change from good old pounds, shillings and pence is beyond me.’

‘That’s what most of my customers say,’ the milkman said. Once satisfied that it was the correct amount, he licked his pencil before ticking off the payment in his book. ‘See you next week, Mrs Lavender.’

Delia barely acknowledged the man before closing the door again. The argument with Edward had been raging for half an hour, yet still the issue was unresolved. She returned to the kitchen, ready to take up where they’d left off, only to be thwarted moments later when Jennifer appeared.

‘Good morning, dear,’ Edward said, smiling warmly at his daughter.

Jennifer went to sit next to him, her manner subdued. ‘Hello, Dad.’

‘Why the long face?’ he asked.

‘I heard you having an argument. Was it about me?’

‘Of course not, and anyway, it was just a heated discussion. Now cheer up. It’s a lovely day and after breakfast I thought we could all go out for a drive.’

‘You can count me out,’ Delia snapped. ‘I haven’t got time for gallivanting. I’ve got housework to do.’

‘Can’t you leave it for once?’

‘No, I can’t. Look at this kitchen, it’s filthy. Jennifer was supposed to have cleaned it, but as you can see it hasn’t been done properly.’

‘Filthy? Delia, it’s immaculate as usual, as is the
rest of the house. Come on, let’s all four of us go out together. It’ll make a nice change.’

‘What will make a nice change?’ Robin asked as he walked into the room.

‘Your father wants us all to go out for a drive.’

Robin frowned and then said, ‘No can do, Dad. I’ve missed two days at college and will have to study all weekend to catch up. If I want to pass my A levels next year I’ve got to get my head down.’

‘Why were you home for two days?’ Edward asked.

‘I had a bit of a fever and sore throat, though I’m fine now.’

‘That’s good, but as I’ve been away for a while I’d like to see something of you. Surely you can spare a few hours this morning?’

‘If Robin wants to study it’s to be commended,’ said Delia, ‘and I for one am proud of his dedication.’

‘I’m proud of him too, Delia.’

‘You don’t show it. Jennifer is the only one you praise.’

‘Look, if you two are going to start rowing again, I’m going back to my room.’

‘Don’t be silly, Robin, we aren’t rowing,’ Delia said quickly. ‘Now sit down and I’ll cook breakfast. What would you like?’

‘A boiled egg would be nice.’

‘Yes, I’ll have the same,’ Edward said.

‘Do you want me to help, Mum?’

‘Of course I do, and don’t use that term. It sounds
so lower class and goodness knows what my friends would think if they heard you. I’m Mother, or Mummy. Your father may not object to being called Dad, but I have higher standards. Now lay the table and then butter some bread.’

‘Yes, Mummy.’

Delia saw the look Edward threw her, the disapproval in his eyes, but ignored it. Jennifer wasn’t a child and should earn her keep, help around the house and with the laundry, something she insisted on, whether Edward liked it or not. What he’d forced on her all those years ago had ruined their marriage and if it hadn’t been for her need to maintain her social standing she’d have left Edward years ago. Divorce, however, had been unheard of in their social circle and back then the women at the tennis club would have shunned her, let alone the ladies in the Women’s Institute.

And so she had stayed and played her role, but not any more. The time had at last come when she could get rid of Jennifer and she wasn’t going to let Edward stand in her way. She just had to bring up the subject again and this time she would force the issue whether Edward liked it or not.

Edward hated the way Delia spoke to Jenny; how she was often as cold towards their daughter as she was to him. Delia had been a reluctant mother. She had done what was necessary when Jennifer was a baby, saw that she was clean and fed, but that had
been all, any shows of affection brief. Jenny had been a beautiful baby, so easy to love, but instead Delia had rejected her.

‘Daddy, will you be home again for my birthday?’ Jenny asked.

‘I’ve got three branch inspections scheduled, but I’ll do my best.’

‘Edward, if you aren’t here,’ Delia warned, ‘I’ll go ahead with what we’ve been discussing without you.’

‘You’ll do no such thing.’

‘If you aren’t here, how are you going to stop me?’

‘Stop you doing what, Mother?’ asked Robin.

Edward found he was holding his breath, but his fear of Delia blurting it out also forced him to a decision. With no guarantee that he’d be home for Jenny’s birthday, Delia might just carry out her threat. He couldn’t risk it. He’d have to tell his daughter now; at least coming from him the blow might be softened.

‘All right, Delia, you’ve got your own way as usual. However,
I
will be the one to tell her.’

‘When?’

‘After breakfast,’ Edward said, unable to miss the look of triumph that crossed his wife’s face.

‘Dad, are you talking about me?’ Jenny asked.

‘Yes, darling, but don’t look so worried.’

‘Tell me what?’

‘Let’s eat and then we’ll talk,’ he said, glad of even this small delay.

‘Jennifer, do get a move on,’ Delia urged. ‘I want to get this meal over with.’

When his egg was put in front of him, Edward took off the top while his mind searched for the right words – the easiest and gentlest way to tell Jenny. She had always been a daddy’s girl, but what he was being forced to do now could change their relationship for ever. Would he lose his daughter? God, he hoped not.

If he could reveal the
whole
truth it might help, but Edward knew that was impossible. After all, even Delia wasn’t privy to it and, despite her accusations, she never would be.

Jenny barely touched her breakfast. The atmosphere was tense, and something was obviously wrong, yet it seemed she hadn’t been the cause of their argument. What was her father going to tell her? She’d known for some time that things weren’t right between her parents, that theirs wasn’t a happy marriage, and now an awful thought crossed Jenny’s mind. Divorce! That must be it. Her parents were getting a divorce.

Jenny looked at Robin, but her brother seemed unconcerned as he mopped up the last of his yolk. Unlike her, Robin seemed unaware of the tension in the air and now pushed back his chair, saying, ‘Right, I’d better get on with some studying.’

‘No, Robin, stay where you are. What I have to say concerns you too.’

Her father’s words added to Jenny’s fear. If Robin was going to be told too it
must
be a divorce. Her stomach churned. Did it mean her father would
move out of the house? Would she see even less of him than she did now? Unable to help it, Jenny blurted out, ‘You’re going to leave, aren’t you? You and Mummy are getting a divorce.’

‘Of course we aren’t,’ her father answered. ‘Whatever gave you that idea?’

‘I…I thought, well, the row…then you saying you were going to tell me something, Robin too.’

‘Yes I am, but it’s got nothing to do with divorce. You see…er…er…’ Edward stammered, running both hands over his face, unable to find the words.

‘Oh, do get on with it, Edward.’

‘I’m doing my best, Delia, but this isn’t easy.’

‘I’ll tell her then.’

‘No, leave this to me,’ he insisted. With a strained look on his face, he turned to Jenny again. ‘I think it might be best if I start at the beginning. You see, many years ago, some distant relatives of mine in Ireland were killed when their cottage caught fire. They left one daughter, er…Mary…and with her parents’ death she was left entirely alone. I was contacted by the home she was placed in, but by the time I got there she had tragically died too.’

‘Oh, Daddy, that’s awful. Was she badly burned?’

‘No, it was nothing like that. Mary was pregnant and died in childbirth.’

For a moment he paused, his eyes pained, but nothing could have prepared Jenny for his next words.

‘She had a baby girl, one who was left without a
mother or anyone to care for her. That’s where we stepped in, darling. That baby girl was you and I brought you home. Your mother and I adopted you, made you our own daughter and one whom we love very much.’

Jenny stiffened in shock. Adopted! As she glanced at her mother, the feelings she always had of not being wanted, of something missing in her life, suddenly made sense. She wasn’t her mother! Someone called Mary was her mother, but…but she had died. Jenny’s eyes now darted to her father – but he wasn’t really her father either.

‘What…what happened to my real father?’

‘I’m afraid we don’t know, darling. Mary died without telling anyone his name.’

‘Bloody hell,’ Robin murmured.

‘There’s no need for bad language, Robin,’ came the gentle rebuke.

‘Sorry, Mother, but this has come as a bit of a shock.’

‘I think it’s more of a shock for your sister,’ his father chided.

‘Yes,’ Robin said, smiling now, ‘but Jennifer isn’t really my sister, is she? Just how distant was this relative, Dad?’

‘Mary’s mother was a third cousin on my father’s side of the family.’

‘Wow! That means that Jenny and I are so distantly related that there’s hardly a link at all.’

Jenny’s head was reeling. Robin wasn’t her brother either, instead just a very distant cousin. Not only that, he actually looked pleased about it. She couldn’t stand any more, couldn’t listen to any more, and, flinging back her chair, Jenny fled the room.

Edward reared to his feet.

‘Did you have to be so indelicate, Robin? It was enough for Jenny to take in without you adding to her confusion.’

‘Robin was only trying to make sense of it all, Edward,’ snapped Delia. ‘There’s no need to shout at him.’

‘Didn’t you see his face? He looked delighted to hear that Jenny isn’t his sister.’

‘What do you expect? Robin knows what a trial that girl has been to me.’

‘
That girl
is our daughter.’

‘I have never accepted her as that.’

‘Yes, you’ve made that obvious. You’ve treated her more like a servant. Nevertheless, legally Jenny is our daughter, our responsibility and this is her home.’

‘For now,’ Delia murmured, her head down as she began to clear the table.

‘I won’t have you driving her out.’

‘What!’ Robin exclaimed. ‘Mother, surely you don’t want Jennifer to leave home?’

‘She’ll be sixteen next month and leaving school soon after to find employment. That makes her perfectly capable of looking after herself.’

‘And just where is she supposed to live?’ Robin asked.

‘She can get one of those bedsit things.’

Robin now reared to his feet too, and Edward witnessed a change in his son. Like a worm turning, he glared at his mother with an expression of disgust.

‘Despite what you say, Mother, from what I’ve seen Jenny has never been a trial to you. She doesn’t deserve this and if you force her out I’m going too.’

Delia’s face was a picture, her expression registering both shock and bewilderment. ‘Don’t be silly, Robin.’

‘Silly, am I? No, I don’t think so. If Jenny leaves just watch me walk out behind her.’ With this threat hanging in the air, Robin stormed from the kitchen.

Delia looked stunned, her jaw agape; before departing the room too, Edward couldn’t stop himself from commenting, ‘Well, Delia, that didn’t go down quite as you expected.’

Jenny was still unable to process her thoughts into coherent order. She had no feelings of self. She wasn’t Jennifer Lavender, daughter of Edward and Delia, but instead her mother had been Irish, and her father unknown. There were so many questions
tumbling around in her mind that she felt relieved in a way when the man she had thought of as her father knocked softly on her bedroom door.

‘I’m sorry, Jennifer. That must have been an awful shock for you.’

‘I…I don’t know who I am any more.’

‘You’re still the same person. You’re our little girl, and you’ll always be that.’

‘But I’m not. I…I’m some sort of distant cousin.’

‘No, Jennifer. When we adopted you, your mother and I became your parents.’

‘I’ve always known that Mummy…no, Delia…has never really loved me. I thought it was me, that I’m unlovable, but now…What was she like, Dad?’

‘Your mother had a difficult birth with Robin and it took her a long time to recover, but she was as keen as me to adopt you.’

‘I’m not talking about her. I meant my real mother.’

‘Oh, I see. Well, darling, I’m afraid there’s very little I can tell you. As I said, they were very distant relatives and I hadn’t seen them since my childhood. I…I never saw their daughter, Mary.’

Jenny felt a sudden pull to Ireland, a need to see what it was like, where her mother had lived. At that instant, she vowed that one day she’d go there.

‘What was her last name?’

‘Murphy. She was Mary Ann Murphy.’

‘It…it’s a lovely name, I like it. So my name should really be Jennifer Murphy.’

‘Oh, sweetheart, don’t say that. Your mother and I chose the name Jennifer, and as we legally adopted you, your name is Jennifer Lavender.’

‘You…you said that you were the only family she had left. Does that mean I haven’t got any relatives at all in Ireland? Isn’t there anyone who could tell me more about my real mother?’

‘I’m afraid not, darling.’

‘You also said she didn’t name my father, but I don’t understand. Why didn’t they know who he was? Why didn’t he claim me?’

There was a pause, a sigh, and then he said, ‘Jennifer, the home your mother was placed in was one for unmarried mothers.’

‘Unmarried!’ Jenny gasped. Earlier, when told that she was adopted, her mind had almost frozen, but now the truth sank in. ‘That…that means I…I’m a basta—’

‘Don’t say it,’ her father quickly interrupted. ‘We have no idea what Mary went through, how she ended up in such a place, but one thing I’m sure of – had she lived, your mother would have loved you very much.’

Tears came then and began to run unchecked down Jenny’s cheeks. She had never known a mother’s love. All she had ever known was rejection, a feeling of being unwanted and in the way. She felt the bed dip
as her father sat down next to her, and though he wasn’t her real father Jenny had always felt close to him – always felt that at least
he
loved her. His arms reached out to her and, sobbing, Jenny fell into them.