Forgotten Child

Chapter Three

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.

Chapter Four

Robin knew Jenny was upset, but he was over the moon at the news that she was adopted. Jenny wasn’t his sister, she was only a very distant cousin, and it meant that what he felt for her wasn’t wrong, incestuous or sick.

Relief had flooded through him when he had heard, but Robin could have kicked himself for allowing his pleasure to show. Was it any wonder that Jenny had looked stricken as she fled the room? Yet what followed her departure had left Robin stunned. His mother’s callousness had shocked him and the last thing he wanted was for Jenny to leave home. He just hoped that his threat to do the same would work.

Robin knew he had to speak to Jenny, to find an excuse for his behaviour. He couldn’t tell her the truth yet. It would shock her; maybe frighten her off, so for now he would have to tread softly.

It was some time before Robin came up with something that might sound convincing. The timing was a bit out but, hopefully, with the shock of what she’d been told, Jenny wouldn’t remember.

At last Robin heard his father going back downstairs. He went along to Jenny’s room, asking as he opened the door, ‘Can I come in?’

Her face was blotchy from crying, but thankfully she nodded.

‘Jenny, I know I looked pleased when Dad told us you’re adopted, but I think you got hold of the wrong end of the stick.’

‘You were pleased.’

‘No, Jenny. It was more relief than pleasure.’

‘Relief? Why?’

‘I’ve seen how unhappy Mother has been, heard the rows, and I thought Dad was going to tell us they’re getting a divorce.’

‘Yes, I thought the same at first. So you aren’t pleased that I’m adopted?’

‘Why should I be? After all, it won’t make any difference and doesn’t change anything. They’re legally as much your parents as they are mine and our lives will go on as normal.’

‘Yes, for you, but my life in this house has never been normal.’

‘I know Mother can be difficult,’ Robin placated, ‘but she suffers with her nerves, gets depressed, and you have to make allowances.’

‘Since you started college, you’ve been as bad, hardly speaking to me, shutting me out.’

‘Have I? I didn’t realise,’ Robin lied, unable to come up with a better excuse quickly enough. ‘I’ve been hard at it, Jenny, keen to get good exam results for university.’

‘If you say so. But please, my head is splitting and I want to be on my own for a while.’

‘All right, but if you need me I’ll be in my room,’ Robin said, hoping he had done enough to cover his behaviour.

Robin had always known his mother didn’t show Jenny much affection, and the fact that she was adopted now explained it. He was simply happy that he no longer had to think of Jenny as his sister, and went back to his studies with a smile on his face.

Delia’s mind was raging. Edward was right; Robin turning on her like that was indeed the last thing she’d expected. She and her son shared a special bond, one that didn’t include Jennifer, so why he had acted like that on the girl’s behalf was beyond her comprehension. She had planned this moment for so long, a time when she could finally get rid of Jennifer, but instead she now stood to lose her son too. No, no, that couldn’t happen. Yes, she would miss Robin when he went to university next year, but they wouldn’t have been estranged. He would come home every weekend and that would have fitted perfectly into her plans, but now…

Oh, that girl. As usual Jennifer had spoiled everything, forced her to rethink, and Delia began to quietly fume. She had to do something to bring Robin round…but what?

At last, though she was unhappy about it, by the time Edward had come back downstairs, Delia had decided what she had to do. If she didn’t want to lose Robin it was her only choice – but one day, no matter what, she would make Edward pay for this.

Jenny stayed in her room for over an hour, trying to come to terms with the fact that she’d been adopted. She would never think of Delia as her real mother again, but Jenny couldn’t feel the same about her father, and was deeply upset that she wasn’t really his daughter. Edward loved her, she was sure of it, really loved her, and though they were only distantly related, at least that was some kind of link.

She clutched her pillow, trying to imagine what her real mother had been like, what her own life would have been like had she lived. It was half an hour later when thirst drove Jenny out of her room, only to find that Robin was leaving his at the same time.

‘Hi, Jen, how are you feeling now?’

‘I was just going to get a glass of water,’ she said. Robin walked behind her as she went downstairs.

‘Jennifer, there you are,’ Delia said, smiling warmly. ‘I know you’ve had a dreadful shock and I felt it best to leave you alone for a while. Are you feeling a little better now?’

‘Er…yes,’ Jenny said as she poured a glass of water and gulped it down. Delia was being nice, but as usual she was modifying her behaviour because Robin was around. However, she got a shock when he spoke.

‘Mother, don’t pretend that you care about Jenny’s feelings.’

‘But I do…’

‘You could have fooled me,’ he said.

Jenny had no idea what had caused Robin to turn on his mother, and feared being blamed for it, but then her father came in from the garden, smiling when he saw her.

‘Jenny, I was about to see if I could persuade you to come downstairs.’

‘I was too,’ Delia said. ‘I wanted to talk to you, Jennifer, to assure you that though you now know you’re adopted, it won’t make any difference. We are still your parents and this is your home.’

Robin made a snorting sound and left the room, leaving Jenny still feeling bewildered at his sudden change of attitude towards his mother.

Delia continued to be pleasant for the rest of the day, yet it didn’t fool Jenny and she guessed it was her usual act put on for Robin and her father’s sake. She avoided being alone with her, keeping close to her father; dreading him leaving when the weekend was over.

Chapter Five

All too soon it was Monday morning, and Jenny woke early. Her father would be leaving shortly and she was already close to tears. He might not have been her real father, but she loved him dearly and treasured the closeness they shared. She dressed hurriedly and crept downstairs.

‘I might have guessed,’ Edward said, smiling. ‘It’s so early, but here you are, the only one up to see me off.’

‘I wish you didn’t have to go.’

‘So do I, darling,’ he said, rising to his feet and hugging her. ‘I know it’s been a difficult weekend for you, but I promise that, no matter what, I’ll be back for your birthday.’

Jenny didn’t want him to go and clung to him. Her birthday was on the seventeenth of July, in about five weeks, but to her it felt more like five years as he pulled away. She watched, fighting tears as he picked up his briefcase, and then, with a quick kiss on her cheek and a whispered goodbye, he was gone.

Delia was annoyed to be disturbed by the sound of Jennifer getting up to see her father off at the crack of dawn. As far as Delia was concerned, she was glad that Edward was leaving. After all, it was Jennifer who got all his attention when he was here. To punish him she decided she would remain in bed.

She was still angry at being unable to get rid of Jennifer as planned, and at a loss to understand her son’s change of allegiance. One minute Robin had been on her side, happy to leave Jennifer out in the cold, but then, at the mere mention of her moving into a bedsit, he had turned. Delia had been kind to Jennifer all weekend but it hadn’t helped, and Robin was still giving her the cold shoulder.

Still puzzled by her son’s behaviour, Delia continued to mull on it, wondering if it was sympathy that Robin had felt for Jennifer. Perhaps her son was soft and more like his father than she had realised. If that was the case, the only way to get Robin back on her side would be to turn the tables and become the damsel in distress.

With an idea coming to mind, Delia pondered on it. Robin was no longer a child; he was a young man and surely old enough to be spoken to as an adult. Yes, of course he was, though she daren’t tell him everything.

At last, satisfied that what she’d come up with could work, Delia managed to doze off again until her alarm sounded at seven. She then got up to follow her usual routine. There would be no making an appearance downstairs until she was bathed, dressed, her make-up applied and hair immaculately in place. It was a standard that had been set by her late mother, one Delia always adhered too, and she ensured that both Robin and Jennifer followed her example.

Ready now, Delia went along to her son’s room. Opening the door, she called, ‘Robin, it’s time to get up.’

‘Yes, I know. I’m awake.’

Delia was surprised. Robin was usually difficult to rouse, the last one to make an appearance every morning, but for once he sounded fully awake and alert. She wanted to speak to him out of Jennifer’s hearing and now made the most of this opportunity.

‘Robin, I’m so unhappy and desperately need to talk to you.’

‘Not now, Mother.’

‘Please, Robin, it won’t take long. It’s just that I need to get this off my chest.’

‘Can’t it wait until we’re downstairs?’

‘No, darling, I’m afraid it can’t,’ Delia said, moving further into the room to sit at Robin’s desk. Books were strewn over it, some still open, notes written, some crumbled up and tossed aside, but for once Delia’s fastidiousness was put to one side as she composed her face to one of sadness. ‘Robin, I was against adopting Jenny, but your father virtually forced me into it.’

‘From what he said, we were her only family.’

‘We were so distantly connected that I’d hardly call us that. Your father hadn’t seen them since his childhood, so of course I had never met them. We already had you, and with so many childless couples desperate to adopt, I felt it would be kinder if Jennifer went to one of them. Your father didn’t agree and I suppose I was full of resentment, but despite that I did my best when we adopted Jennifer and grew fond of her. I tried to love her, really I did, but she was such a difficult baby and I’m afraid one can’t love to order.’

‘I don’t remember her being difficult.’

‘You wouldn’t, darling. You were just a toddler then,’ Delia said, forcing tears into her eyes as she changed the subject. ‘Oh, Robin, a few months ago it was my fortieth birthday and all I’ve ever been is a wife and mother. With you leaving home to go to university next year and Jennifer almost grown up too, I’ve been feeling lost, as though I won’t have a role any more. I’ll be redundant as a mother, with nothing to do but rattle around in this large, empty house.’

For a moment Robin looked a little sympathetic, but then said, ‘If that’s the case and you’re fond of Jenny, why would you want her to leave home too?’

‘All right, I’ll try to explain. As I said, I was beginning to feel lost, but then a woman at the tennis club, Marcia Bateman, made me look at things differently. When Marcia’s children left the nest she saw it as her time, a chance to be something more than just a wife and mother. She studied interior design and then started up a very successful business. I admire Marcia, and it made me realise that when you go to university there’s nothing to stop me from doing something similar.’ Delia paused to bite her lip, eyes lowered for effect.

‘Yes, well, I suppose you could.’

‘Robin, there’s a lot of work involved in setting up a new business, and though this is going to sound dreadful, in truth I wanted the freedom to work as many hours as necessary without feeling I have to rush home to look after Jennifer. It was selfish of me and I realise that now. Until Jennifer is older this will remain her home, and I’ll just have to rethink my business plan.’

At last Robin smiled. ‘If that’s the case I’d hardly call you selfish, but I don’t think you need to change your plans. Jenny will be at work too, and she’s quite capable of looking after herself until you come home. Now, why don’t you tell me about this business venture?

‘With so many large houses in this area needing domestic staff, I’m thinking of setting up an agency to provide them, along with catering services. However, I’m not going to do anything until you leave for university, and so for now I’d rather you didn’t mention my ideas to your father.’

‘Why? Do you think he’ll be against it?’

‘Yes, I do. You see your father wasn’t well off when we married and I had to use my inheritance to buy our first house.’

‘I didn’t know that. I knew he’d lost his parents during the war and was brought up by his aunt, but I still don’t see why he’d be against you starting up a business.’