by Monica Carly
‘I will ignore that remark, and put it down to ignorance,’ he replied. ‘Off you go.’
She set off, and saw that the yellow car was indeed keeping up with her, although the driver was maintaining a respectful distance. This meant that when another car did catch them up it would pop into the gap, so that she had to pull in to let it go by – otherwise she couldn’t see the yellow car at all. Half an hour later they both duly arrived, and parked outside the cottage.
Fran received a rapturous welcome, and when the greetings were over she introduced Nigel. He had been hanging back respectfully but now he came forward smiling as Fran explained what had happened on her journey. Her parents immediately turned the warmth of their welcome on him, as Fran had known they would, and expressed their thanks for his roadside rescue.
‘Think nothing of it,’ he replied. ‘I make a point of coming to the assistance of, on average, about one damsel per week. But they don’t all take me to birthday parties.’
‘I wonder,’ said Percy tentatively, when they had eaten lots of cake and drunk numerous cups of tea, ‘I wonder if I could have a look at your car? It’s a Nippy, you said? The first car I ever owned was an Austin Seven.’
‘In comparison with the standard Austin Seven the Nippy, as you probably know, has an uprated engine. Fran was surprised that I could keep up with her.’
‘It did seem to go fast for such a small car,’ said Fran.
‘Yes, on a good day and with a following wind, it can make 60 mph or more. The only problem is stopping.’
‘Why? Don’t the brakes work?’
‘Not as effectively as those in your modern vehicle. But you have to admit it’s a lot more fun. I wonder if the ladies would mind if I took Percy out for a little spin?’
‘Would you?’ Percy was beaming from ear to ear.
‘Providing you bring him back safely,’ said Fran.
‘Oh dear, yes!’ Barbie was looking distinctly worried. ‘Please go slowly, won’t you and make sure he fastens his seat belt.’
‘There’s a slight problem with that,’ admitted Nigel. ‘There aren’t any.’
‘You’ll have the police after you!’ Barbie’s fears were mounting.
‘Not at all – you see they’re not a legal requirement on a car of this age. But never you fear – I’ll have him back safe and sound, and all in one piece, in twenty minutes, if that’s acceptable.’
Percy went off looking like the cat who has found the cream. The two women couldn’t help laughing at his boyish enthusiasm, and went to the window to watch. While Percy had a door that opened on his side so that the passenger could get in, the driver, it appeared, had no such luxury and was forced to climb into his seat. With a number of splutters and bangs the car drove away, leaving Barbie and Fran to enjoy a little time of being together and catching up on news. Then the loud bangs and splutters could be heard once more, heralding the men’s return.
‘Wonderful!’ cried Percy. ‘Absolutely wonderful! Takes you back. Upon my soul, that’s for sure – it certainly takes you back.’
‘I hope you didn’t get cold, dear, with it being all open like that.’
‘Nonsense, my love, it’s a beautiful warm day.’
‘I suppose you can only take it out in the good weather?’ asked Fran.
‘There is a cover you can put up,’ replied Nigel. ‘The only thing is …’
‘I knew there’d be a “but”,’ said Fran.
‘Well, the only trouble is that whoever designed the cover forgot that you don’t just need to look ahead – from time to time you need to be able to see out of the side windows as well. You can’t do that, when the cover’s on.’
At last it was time to go. Fran was delighted to see her parents looking so happy, and although Barbie was now frail, Percy, at seventy-five, looked fit enough. It had been a good afternoon. She was pleased she had come.
As they went out to their cars Nigel said, ‘I do hope that was all right, I mean taking your father out in the car. Your mother might have preferred him not to go, as it was her birthday, and you had come to be with them.’
Fran, touched by the thoughtfulness, assured him that Barbie had been quite happy about it.
‘To tell you the truth,’ she said, ‘I didn’t much want to come today because my friends have all gone off for a weekend down to the coast. But actually, it’s turned out to be a lot of fun.’
‘That’s good,’ he said. ‘I’m glad. I shall drive behind you some of the way, until I need to turn off, after about three quarters of hour. By then we should be fairly sure that your car will behave until you get back.’
‘You don’t need to follow me now. I’m sure I’ll be fine.’
‘Oh,’ he said, ‘are we having our first argument? I do hope so.’
‘Why?’ Fran was puzzled. ‘I don’t understand. Why would you want to argue with me?’
‘Believe me, I don’t. But if it’s our first, that implies I’ll see you again to have another.’
Fran smiled. ‘That was the most oblique chat up line I’ve ever heard.’
‘I was just wondering,’ he said, ‘if your friends are still away, whether you might like, that is, I don’t know how you’d feel about having a ride in this tomorrow? But you’d probably hate it. Never mind, it was only an idea.’
Without giving her a chance to answer he climbed back into his car, and they set off. The journey went without a hitch, and Fran couldn’t help smiling whenever she looked in her rear mirror and caught sight of the yellow car, because in some strange way it appeared to be smiling at her. They reached the point where they would be going their separate ways.
He honked his horn and pulled over to the side of the road. Fran stopped also. Nigel appeared at her window.
‘Perhaps you would be kind enough to give me your telephone number? Then I can ring later, and make sure you’ve arrived home safely.’
‘What if I haven’t?’
He thought for a minute.
‘Then don’t answer the phone.’
He ran back to his car with the piece of paper containing her telephone number, climbed in and started up again. They moved off, and Fran saw him wave just before the Nippy moved out of range of her rear view window. She waved back, laughing to herself, and continued on her way home. Feeling certain she’d hear from him later she found she was rather looking forward to speaking to him again.
Chapter 24
Fran had been married to Nigel for eight years when she heard the news that Barbie was fading fast and wasn’t expected to live much longer. Immediately she asked Nigel if he would come with her as she went down to the care home where Barbie had been living for the past six months to pay what would probably be her last visit. She knew he would not demur – he had turned out to be a kind, gentle man, and beneath the joking exterior there was a surprising sensitivity to her needs and to those of other people, so that she blessed the day when their paths had accidentally crossed.
She knew she had this fighting spirit, which probably meant she wasn’t the easiest person to live with. It wasn’t always easy living with herself. Nigel gave her all the freedom she needed and made few demands – other than that she kept the fridge loaded with cheese and pickle, so that he could make his daily sandwiches. She did her best to enter into his world of old cars and engines, often going for rides with him in the Nippy, which she never came to love, as he did – it was frankly rather a nerve-racking ride – but she enjoyed being out with him. Meanwhile she pursued her career in accountancy, achieving a position with a London firm of high repute. She found her job satisfying, and enjoyed the challenge of it as she had to hold her own against the bright young men there.
There was one issue in the marriage which could not be resolved. They were both getting on in years, and she knew Nigel would have liked a child before it was too late. In many ways Fran would have liked one too, but there was one insurmountable barrier. She had broached the subject, o
nly two weeks previously, when it had been a beautiful weekend, and they had gone out for a picnic.
‘You must think I’m very selfish, letting my baggage get in the way of something so important.’
‘I don’t see it as selfishness. I see it as a total impasse until the basic issue has been explored, and in some way sorted out.’
‘You’re so understanding, as always, which makes me feel worse than ever.’
‘Just see if you can put it into words – that way perhaps we might see a way through, or if not that, at least perhaps a beginning. You see, it’s not just the question of a child. It’s really about you, and your “baggage” as you put it. I can hardly live with you as your husband without being aware that there is something gnawing away at you. For your sake I should like to see you being able to deal with that. So let’s take it out and have a look at it.’
They were sitting on a rug at the edge of a grassy field, their picnic spread out before them. There was little sign of life, other than a few insects who were taking rather too much interest in their sandwiches. Nigel knew some lovely spots where you could wander away from the bustle of city life. Fran always found her spirits lifted and refreshed when they had been out for one of their ‘little jaunts’, as Nigel called them.
If there could be a better time or place to open her heart, it would be difficult to imagine it. Even so Fran had to think hard. It wasn’t easy to express her feelings, but she knew she owed it to her husband.
‘I would love to have a child so much – I can’t tell you – but I can’t bear to inflict on that child the feeling of being in limbo that I have always lived with. When you don’t know who you are, you feel … this is the bit that’s so hard to describe … that you don’t belong anywhere or to anyone. No matter how brilliant your adoptive parents have been, the feeling is still there. You can keep it submerged, and lead a normal life, but it never leaves you. It comes up and hits you at the most unexpected times. I don’t want my child to have to go through that.’
‘You don’t think it would be a little bit different, in that our child would know his parents? And the relatives on my side of the family, such as they are, especially those who aren’t behind bars, are an open book. It’s only your side that is missing.’
‘Of course you are right. I know you are. But there’d still be that whole area where I wouldn’t be able to answer any questions.’
‘I do see that.’
‘Do you know, when I was about nine, my school gave us the task of producing family trees. We had to ask our parents to help us, and go through old family albums – that kind of thing.’
‘Oh dear, I see big problems ahead.’
‘Exactly so. We sat down together and spent a whole day working on it, and when it was finished, instead of being delighted, I argued that it wasn’t right, and I drew another, and all it had on it was my name and two big question marks!’
‘I bet that went down well!’
‘Poor Barbie was dreadfully upset, and Dad made me promise that in future I’d say I wasn’t thinking about it any more, even if I was. That was quite a burden to put on a small girl! And at that tender age I simply couldn’t understand why my mother got so distressed at the thought of me having a natural mother. Of course, as I grew older, I was able to see it from her point of view. I realised she thought I might feel I belonged to my natural mother more than I did to her. As she and Dad had always been so wonderful to me, I simply couldn’t do that to them, so I resolved to wait until they were in a place where it wouldn’t trouble them any more.’
‘Well, you lost Percy last year with his heart attack, and now Barbie is frail and confused, and unlikely to know anything about it – so I suggest you start making some enquiries. The sooner you lay this ghost, the better I think things will be for you.’
‘Oh Nigel – do you really think it would be all right to start the search now?’
‘Yes, I do. After all, I’m sorry to say that I think, for Barbie, it will only be a matter of weeks now.’
Nigel had been right. Barbie’s time was running out fast. Having gone down to be with her, Fran sat at her bedside, holding her hand, but Barbie did not open her eyes. Something told Fran not to go away, so she went and found Nigel, who was giving his car a polish, and told him that she wanted to stay on. He told her not to worry – there was nothing he needed to get back for and he was perfectly happy to wait.
Thanking her lucky stars that she had such a supportive husband, Fran went back inside. Barbie’s breathing had changed, and she was now struggling to draw breaths. The nurse came and said gently that she thought they wouldn’t have long to wait. Fran sat quietly and watched as the miracle happened – the opposite of a new life coming but a miracle just the same – the moment when an old life goes, leaving behind all suffering, and entering a welcome state of peace. She kissed her mother tenderly, tears running down her face.
‘Thank you, dearest Mummy, for everything you did for me, and for all the love you gave me,’ she whispered. ‘You’ve been the best mother in the world, and I shall never forget you.’
Then they went back home and there, on the doormat, was a letter. The search agency she had contacted believed they had traced her natural mother. If she telephoned they would provide details so that she could go and visit.
‘Oh Nigel!’ breathed Fran. ‘This is the moment I have been waiting for. This is what I have been longing for, all my life. I can’t believe it has come at last – and I’m terrified!’
‘Try to take it slowly,’ advised Nigel. ‘She may not immediately be receptive to you.’
‘I know. I know I mustn’t expect too much at the outset. But I am just desperate to go and see her, and find out what she’s like – this woman who gave birth to me almost forty years ago. Oh Nigel, now it’s got to this point, I’m so scared, but I’m so happy too. At long last, everything I’ve been longing for is about to happen!’
Nigel smiled, hoping, for his wife’s sake, the moment was going to be all she had anticipated. But he said nothing.
Chapter 25
‘Get out of my flat! Get out – and don’t ever come back!’
Claudia had risen from her chair, her white face taut with anger, her whole body trembling. Fran didn’t move. She remained seated and looked steadily at the furious woman in front of her.
‘How dare you think you can come waltzing back here after forty years and expect to be received like an honoured guest! How dare you assume I’ll be glad to see you! I’ve told you to go, so do it. Now!’
Still Fran didn’t move. Claudia’s stiff stance began to loosen. Her body was shaking uncontrollably. She fell back into her chair, put her head in her hands, and sobbed – great heart-broken sobs. The pain that seared through her chest was a reminder of the torture she had experienced forty years ago. First there had been that dreadful day when she had signed the papers agreeing to hand her child over to the Adoption Society. Then the moment when she had walked out of the hospital alone, leaving her baby behind – a moment that was etched indelibly in her memory. She had cried for a week before she had taken control of herself and vowed she would never allow herself to think about that day again. From the moment she had made her resolve she had kept a watertight control over all her emotions so that they were untouchable by any other human being – or so she thought.
‘I know it’s a terrible shock for you’ said Fran, gently. ‘I’ve thought for a long time about whether I should write in advance, but I decided not to do that as you might well have refused to meet me and then my bridges would have been burned for all time. But I can’t tell you for how long I have wanted to contact you – I’ve longed to know who my birth mother was, and–’
‘I know. You wanted to know why some terrible woman left you to the tender mercies of an adoption society and abandoned you without a thought. Well, now you know what that woman is like – an embittered spinster, who lives by herself with only her cat for company, who h
as no life now that her career is over, and no friends. The only acquaintances are the school colleagues who, for years, made fun of me behind my back. So now you know, go away and leave me in peace. I don’t want to know anything about you, and I don’t want you to know any more about me.’
The sobbing had ceased and a hard, set look had taken over. It was the sort of look her colleagues knew so well. It was the look that said, ‘Keep your distance. Don’t think you can invade my personal territory. We communicate strictly for business reasons, and then we part. Don’t ever overstep the mark.’ It was a look that had daunted all who worked with her over the years. Now the look was directed at Fran, but Fran did not flinch.
‘I am not asking you to tell me my background at this stage, although obviously I am curious both about you, and about my father. I understand that you don’t want to know anything about me. I just want to say that I had a very happy home. I grew up with two of the kindest people it is possible to imagine. But the older I grew the more I realised that somehow I did not fit with them. I knew I belonged in a different setting. I was anxious to leave home and get more education and training, so that I could have something of a profession, rather than just a job. I’m not sure now that I have fulfilled my potential, but I am satisfied that I have achieved something worthwhile. Now I’ve seen you I am beginning to understand these feelings that puzzled and bothered me so much when I was growing up.’
‘I’m glad your problem has been solved.’ The icy sarcasm was blatant. ‘So now you can go back to wherever you came from feeling comfortable about yourself and forget you ever contacted me. I mean it. I don’t want to see you again. I don’t want to know any more about you. I washed my hands of you when you were born and I knew, that day, that I never wanted to have anything further to do with you.’
Claudia stood up once more, making it clear that the conversation was over. Fran started to say something, thought better of it, and decided she should leave. What did one say in these circumstances? ‘It was nice meeting you’ hardly seemed appropriate. Should she offer to shake hands? Her mind whirring she stumbled towards the front door. Unable to bring herself to look back she opened it and walked through.