Forgotten Child. Kitty Neale
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‘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