by Mark Seaman
I smiled. “To be honest, Mum, I haven’t really got past thinking about what I’m going to wear. I mean I want to look and feel confident when I say hello yeah, but I don’t want to look as though I’m there for a job interview do I? And I certainly don’t want to look too casual as though I haven’t made the effort. Oh I don’t know, Mum, what would you wear?”
She looked at me and laughed. “I’m glad you’ve got your priorities right. Here you are about to meet the woman who brought you into this world and ask her some difficult and potentially life changing questions and all you can think about is what to wear.”
“Come on, Mum, you know what I mean.”
She squeezed my arm. “I’m only joking, love, of course I understand, it’s important. You want to set the right tone and feel good about yourself. The good news is we’ve got the best part of two weeks to get you sorted. Why don’t we go shopping together on Saturday and see what we can find, my treat?
“Sounds great, especially the bit about you paying. Mind, it might prove a bit more expensive than you thought if Jenny gets wind of a girly day at the shops.” I leant across the table and held her hand. “Thanks Mum.”
The next week and a half seemed to fly by as I prepared myself and the final list of questions I wanted to ask ready for the big day. We went shopping and of course Jenny came along too. Mum treated her to a new outfit as well, although that was more to placate her after we said that she definitely wouldn’t be coming with me to meet Ruth, at least not on this occasion.
I spent much of the day on the Sunday before what we had all jokingly dubbed “Ruth Day,” with Chris. He was very supportive and like Mum assured me that whatever transpired between Ruth and I our own relationship would remain solid and intact.
“You and Jenny mean the world to me, Mary, you know that? I can’t think of anything that you might find out tomorrow that would affect our relationship in any way.” He kissed me before adding. “Unless of course, you discover you are the love child of that Arsenal supporter. Then, like I said before, I might just have to think again.”
“Just shut up will you? Honestly Chris here I am worried stiff about what’s going to happen tomorrow and all you can talk about is some stupid football team.”
He pursed his lips and shook his head disapprovingly. “Show’s what you know about football girl. As the great Liverpool manager Bill Shankly once said, “Some people think football is a matter of life and death, but I assure you it’s more serious than that.”
“Chris please. I’m being serious as well.”
He put his arm around me sensing he may have gone too far. “Sorry love, just trying to relax you a bit.” He moved my hair to one side and stroked my face. “Listen, there’s nothing you can do about tomorrow or what happens until the two of you actually sit down together, right? So the more wound up you get about it now the more tense you’ll be when you actually do meet her, so just try and calm down a bit eh? Don’t forget she’s probably just as nervous as you are, maybe even more so. After all she’s the one who gave her baby away; she’s the one who’s got all the explaining to do, not you.”
I thought for a moment and realised he was right. I was the innocent party in all of this so why should I be nervous? Addressing it logically like that made perfect sense but my head was so scrambled that nothing appeared as it should do, but I resolved to try my best to calm down, as Chris suggested, and wait to see what tomorrow brought. The two of us had lunch together in a local pub and then picked Jenny up on the way back to take her to a local fun fair that had set up nearby. This proved to be a great idea and distraction for the three of us as we took turns in banging into each other in the bumper cars and then trying to win a goldfish on the coconut shy. I wasn’t so keen on a second ride on the Wurlitzer though as I felt as I’d already left my stomach on it the first time round.
“Chicken, you stay here then,” Chris shouted, leaving me by the entrance. “Jenny and I will go again and show you how it’s done, won’t we, Jen?”
She happily took his hand as they climbed onto the ride. “You’re so rubbish, Mum,” she called out as they strapped themselves in.
“I’m happy being rubbish if it means I can keep my lunch in my stomach.” I smiled and waved them off watching them spin off into the distance and feeling blessed they were both a part of my life.
We had a lovely afternoon and I was really grateful to Chris for the diversion away from all the thoughts that had been occupying my mind earlier about the day to come. Jenny hugged Chris as we arrived home and got out of the car.
“Thanks, Chris, see you soon I hope,” she shouted, making her way up the path. “I’ll leave you two love birds to say goodbye. Kissy kissy, yuk.”
I watched her go into the house. “She’s really fond of you, you know that, don’t you?”
“And I’m really fond of her.” He pulled me close to him. “But not half as fond as I am of her mum.” We kissed, pressing our open lips together as I let him explore my mouth with his tongue. It felt good to be in the embrace of someone I could trust and who cared for me as a woman in my own right and not just as Jenny’s mum.
“I’d better go in before she comes back and asks what we’re up to?”
“She knows what we’re up to, that’s why she went in in the first place.”
Chris caught my arm as I moved to open the car door.
“Mary, when tomorrow is over, and whatever you decide about Ruth I want you to know I really do care about you.”
“I know you do.”
“No, what I meant was, maybe we can think about making some plans of our own, you know, about the future?
I sat back in my seat and looked at him. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I love you, the two of you, and I want to make a life for us, all three of us.”
He put his finger to my lips as I moved to speak.
“I don’t want you to say anything now, just think about it. Not that you haven’t got enough to think about already at the moment of course.” He laughed but I sensed it was to fill the awkwardness of the moment as I struggled to respond, my emotions beginning to get the better of me.
“Chris I…” He put his finger to my lips again.
“Not now, okay? This is hard enough for me to say anyway without you blubbing.” He took a deep breath and smiled at me.
“What I’m saying is that when you’re ready I’m here for you, both of you, long term, okay? How that works we can talk about, but for now at least I want you to know when you meet this woman tomorrow and whatever you discover about your past you are still loved by me. I want to be your future, Mary, yours and Jen’s if you’ll let me.
I fought back the tears as I leant forward and kissed him deeply again. “Thank you.” I was too emotional to say anymore.
Chris held me close for a moment and then, pulling back a little, cupped my face in his hands.
“Okay that’s enough about us for now. Off you go and get a good nights rest before your big day tomorrow.” He kissed me lightly on the forehead. “Let me know how it goes yeah, I’ll be thinking of you.”
I climbed out of the car, squeezing his hand as I did so before closing the door behind me and walking towards the house. After a few steps I turned to face him again. “Love you.”
Chris smiled as he started the engine. “You too, see ya.”
I watched as he drove away, the worry about what might happen tomorrow fading as I embraced the promise of security Chris had offered me, and Jenny. We had a real future to look forward to and nothing was going to change that. I wiped the tears from my cheeks and smiled to myself as I walked to the house feeling more positive than I had in a long time.
Dad and Mum were equally excited about what Chris had said although, as ever, Dad put his sensible hat on before Mum and I got too carried away.
“Let’s get you through t
omorrow first and then we can think about whatever Chris has planned for you and Jenny. One day at a time, Mary, and tomorrow is the next big one you need to get through.” I smiled at him perceiving a hint of jealousy in his expression as he sensed the affections of another man in my life taking priority over his own.
“Oh don’t be such a kill-joy, Mary’s just excited, that’s all.”
“I know that, Carol, and I’m pleased for her as well. All I’m saying is let’s see what this woman Ruth has to say for herself first and we can take it from there, that’s not unreasonable is it?”
Mum and I looked at each other knowingly. “Ever the optimist, not! Just as well for you Mary that I got the cup that’s half full or we’d all be in trouble.”
I laughed and gave them both a kiss.
“I’ll go and check on Jenny and then have a soak in the bath if that’s okay with you? I’ll leave the two of you to have your lover’s tiff on your own.”
“We’re not having a tiff. I’m just trying to be practical that’s all, for everyone’s sake. There’s no need to start clambering up the next mountain until we’ve conquered the one in front of us first.”
Mum shook her head, poking him in the ribs as she did so. “Thank you, Sir Edmund Hilary, for that mountaineering lesson.”
I laughed again and made my way towards the hall. “Like I said, I’ll leave you to it.”
As I climbed the stairs I could hear the two of them still playfully squabbling between themselves. I wondered if that’s how Chris and I might end up and took heart from the fact that even if we never argued we would still struggle to be any happier than Mum and Dad appeared to be. Mum told me once they had always been close, pulling together as a couple and always seeking the best for each other and for those they loved. I knew this to be true from experience having never had any reason to doubt either their love or commitment to both Jenny and I in years we had lived with them.
I lay in the bath for ages thinking about what Chris had said, his words making me feel as warm on the inside as the water did against my skin. Eventually Dad’s more immediate concerns for the day ahead took over and I began to think about all of the questions I planned to ask Ruth. I was pleased I had made a list of them although I was equally sure they would change once the two of us sat down together. As I battled with my rapidly diminishing self-confidence and indecision I suddenly became aware of something I hadn’t yet truly considered. How would I respond to any questions she might ask? What if she wanted to know about my growing up with James and Carol or as to how I had brought Jenny up as a mother myself? What could I say without it sounding judgemental of her and would it matter if it did? After all I owed her nothing other than the fact she had brought me into the world. Then again if she hadn’t I wouldn’t have Jenny in my life nor be the person I was today?
I stared up at the ceiling, my mind frozen in panic, and decided that drowning in the bath was a far better option than addressing the overwhelming feeling of dread that was now permeating through my whole being. I slid back in the bath, my head disappearing under the water. Unfortunately I hadn’t factored in that it would immediately fill my open nostrils and cause me to raise my head involuntarily, choking on the warm soapy bubbles as I did so. Perhaps I was being told something? As I sat up struggling to clear my nose and throat I realised a different solution to my problem was required. I clambered out of the bath and dried myself deciding to take Dad’s advice and face each challenge and associated hurdle as they presented themselves, one at a time.
I eased myself into my bed that night exhausted both mentally and physically, especially after my earlier exertions on the fun fair rides. I read for a few minutes in an attempt to distract my mind from the meeting with Ruth which had found its way back into my thoughts despite my earlier resolve not to let it. Eventually I put my book to one side and, snuggling down under the blankets turned out the bedside lamp closing my eyes in search of the refreshing sleep my mind and body craved. As I lay there in the dark I was overtaken by a very real sensation of fear. It was as though I were a child again in trouble for doing wrong. It felt as if whatever happened tomorrow I would be the one found to be at fault. It would be me that would be held responsible for the unrest others had experienced and it was me who should be punished for causing such unhappiness. I knew these feelings were irrational and that the exact opposite was true. After all it was me that had been deserted at only seven weeks old and handed over to others to care for. The fact those people were James and Carol and they had showered me with nothing but love was almost beside the point; that outcome couldn’t have been predicted at the start of my journey. At that time I was merely a baby, only a few weeks old and given away by her mother. I had always claimed it was Ruth who had rejected me, so how could I be blamed now for what had happened all that time ago?
And yet as I lay in my bed looking at the shadows on my wall thrown there by the sliver of light coming in from under the door those self same shadows all appeared to be pointing towards me and whispering, “It’s all your fault. If you hadn’t been born none of this would have happened.”
Although I felt warm and safe under my blankets my body still shivered, not from any chill in the air but from this unfounded and irrational sense of fear. My mind raced again. What if she hated me for ruining her life as a young girl and wanted to say that to my face? I closed my eyes tight to shut out the shadows of doubt dancing on the walls and pulled the blankets high over me in an attempt to quieten the accusing voices in my head. I lay there like that for some time until the blessed release of sleep eventually overtook me.
Twenty-Four
The final two weeks of my pregnancy seemed to be the longest. Perhaps it was because I didn’t have Diane there to make me laugh anymore, or dear Susan to share my deepest thoughts and hopes with. Whatever the reason I often felt alone and abandoned in those last few days, increasingly unsure about my future or that of my baby once it was born.
I was working in the laundry room as usual when my contractions started. It’s strange, but although I had never given birth before I still recognised, like so many others before me, that this was my time. My waters broke and I called out for one of the nuns to help me. She took me to the delivery room and I was relieved to see Sister Rosemary walk in as I lay there waiting for the next wave of pain to overtake me.
“I thought I’d come and hold your hand, Ruth. That’s if you’d like me to?” She smiled down at me wiping the sweat from my brow with her handkerchief. I nodded my approval and winced at the same time as another contraction took hold. Having her there squeezing my hand and supporting me at every step meant more than I could ever express by way of thanks. I no longer felt abandoned or on my own but rather I was part of something bigger than just myself. The fact that another human being recognised this and was willing to stand by me in my time of need encouraged me in ways that are practically impossible to describe in simple words.
The birth itself went well and took less than three hours in total from the first contraction to holding my baby in my arms. I knew if it was a girl I wanted to name her Rebecca after my mother, and this was confirmed to me as I lay in bed the next day and saw a rose growing in the garden through the window. I remembered how Mama had told me about the first time she had held me and thought of naming me Rose after her favourite flower. Eventually she and Papa had decided on Ruth, but as I lay there holding my own little rose petal in my arms, so delicate and fragile I knew that naming her after Mama was the right thing to do.
Sister Rosemary came again later to check I was okay. She smiled down at the two of us. “She’s beautiful.”
As I looked across at this little bundle of life sleeping in the cot beside me I felt confused. I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep her; that fact had been driven into me along with all the other girls from the day we first arrived at the home. But I also knew for the next few weeks I would be the one responsible for feeding her a
nd preparing her to leave in readiness for someone else to bring up as their own. That was the way it had been presented to us by the nuns as being the best outcome for everyone concerned, especially the baby. Although I had struggled with this reality at times during my pregnancy I had also begun to accept that I wouldn’t be able to offer a new baby the home, clothing, sustenance and care it would need, certainly in those first few weeks of its life. But things were different now; her arrival had changed the landscape regarding her future well-being completely, at least it had for me. Now she was real and I had given her a name, my mother’s name, even though I’d been told not to as the adoptive parents would be the ones legally charged with doing this as far as all future official documentation was concerned. Also, that it would be a name of their choosing and not mine. Suddenly, as had been the case with Diane, I became overwhelmed with a feeling of absolute and unconditional love for this precious new life. She had come from me and no matter what the circumstances of her beginning or arrival she was mine and I wanted to keep her.
The next seven weeks flew by and with each passing day I fell more in love with my beautiful Rebecca as I watched her grow and change. She had a habit of screwing up her little nose while I was feeding her which made me laugh and I swear she smiled at me one day as if to say, “I know you, you’re my mummy and I love you.” That might sound silly but when you’re in love lots of gestures, both spoken and unspoken, that others don’t see or understand make absolute sense to you and the other person involved in the relationship, and I had definitely fallen in love with Rebecca. I would spend every moment I could with her, holding her little body close to me and talking about things she couldn’t possibly understand, but I didn’t care and seemingly from the way she gurgled happily back at me neither did she. Even her smell became familiar to me as I held her up and kissed her face and skin after a bath and when I was drying her. She had totally captivated my heart and I grew closer to her every day, convincing myself that she had the same feelings for me. Any thought of letting her go was, for me, now beyond comprehension and I began to make plans as to how I might persuade the nuns to let me leave with her, and if they wouldn’t then how I might smuggle her out and we could make a run for it together. I knew in the back of my mind both scenarios were unlikely to succeed, but at least the possibility of Rebecca and I remaining together gave me hope. There was little of that afforded to any of us girls in that overtly strict and harsh environment, and when Sister Claire was on the war path the same could be said for the rest of the nuns in the home as well.