Forgotten Child

by Kitty Neale

  ‘Yeah, but he…’

  ‘We’ll go over it later in the week,’ Marcos interrupted, ‘at my place.’

  ‘Just the four of us?’

  ‘There’s no need to include Dan. He’s just the driver and doesn’t need to know the details of the job. I’ll be using Tommy, but I’ll pay his cut.’

  ‘So you’re gonna pull your usual stroke?’

  ‘Yes, but that’s strictly for your ears only. As far as the others are concerned, we’re sticking together. When they see you’ve got the haul they won’t argue.’

  ‘Are you sure you can trust Tommy? You know what he’s like with the booze.’

  ‘We go back a long way, and yes, I trust him.’

  ‘If you say so, boss.’

  ‘I do,’ Marcos said shortly, looking up and seeing a man looking over a car in the showroom. ‘That’s enough for now. You’ve got a customer.’

  Bernie hurried out while Marcos sat back in his chair. The decision was made, with just a few tweaks left to sort out, but yes, he’d pull his usual stroke. If anything went wrong, the others would be the main focus of attention, while he slipped quietly away.

  Edna Moon was thinking about Marcos as she changed the sheets. Jenny, as she wished she could call her instead of Mrs Cane, was lovely and if hadn’t been for that bastard she’d have enjoyed working for her. It made her sick that the poor young woman didn’t have a clue. She wanted to put her straight, to spill her guts out, but Marcos had warned her to keep her mouth shut. She’d wanted to refuse the job, but with Tom pouring anything he earned down his throat, the money had been too good to resist.

  It was the break over Christmas that had done it, lowered her guard, and Edna had spoken without thinking. Now Mrs Cane wanted to know more, but she couldn’t tell her, daren’t tell her. Edna’s nerves were jangling. Good money or not she wanted out, but would Marcos let her leave?

  No, she thought, not without a bloody good excuse, but somehow she’d have to think of one. Her health perhaps, she could try that, but she doubted Tom would have the sense to keep his mouth shut. If Marcos asked how she was, the daft sod would say she was fine, and then what?

  She wished God would strike Marcos down, but in her experience men like him always survived. The devil takes care of his own, they said, and Marcos was definitely in league with him.

  At ten thirty Jenny answered the telephone.

  ‘Good morning, Jennifer, it’s Penelope. I’ve invited your mother round for coffee at eleven. She gave me your number and I’m ringing to see if you’d like to join us.’

  ‘Er…well…yes, and thank you.’

  ‘Wonderful. See you in half an hour then. Bye for now.’

  Jenny was left listening to the dialling tone, her grip tight on the receiver, wishing now she’d had the wits to make an excuse. If this led to more, Marcos would hate it, but it was too late now. She’d accepted the invitation and Penelope Grainger was expecting her. Of course, this was down to her mother again, Jenny thought. She was probably champing at the bit to see the inside of Penelope’s house.

  With her hair brushed and a fresh coat of lipstick applied, Jenny was on her way back downstairs again when Edna came out of the kitchen with her coat on.

  ‘I’m off now, Mrs Cane.’

  ‘All right, Edna, and thanks.’

  ‘You…you won’t say anything to Mr Cane…you know, about what I told you earlier?’

  ‘No, I won’t say a word.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Edna said, looking relieved. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  ‘Hang on a minute. I’m popping next door and instead of waiting to buzz you out, I’ll come to the gate with you. This entry system is such a nuisance. I’ll have to ask Marcos to give you a key.’

  Edna said nothing as they walked along the drive, only calling goodbye as she hurried off. Jenny shook her head, still wondering why the woman was so reticent about Marcos, but then saw her mother pulling up outside Penelope Grainger’s. Delia got out of her car, having chosen to drive rather than walk and Jenny could see why. Her mother was dressed up to the nines, complete with a hat, as though going for a formal lunch.

  ‘Jenny, hello. Coffee with Penelope. Isn’t it wonderful?’

  ‘For you maybe, but I’m not so sure.’

  ‘Nonsense. It’s about time you became acquainted with your other neighbours and I’m hoping Penelope has invited a few of the wives along.’

  Jenny was ushered down the drive, her mother prattling on as she rang the doorbell. ‘You could have made more of an effort, Jennifer. That dress and cardigan are hardly suitable.’

  ‘It’s just coffee, Mummy,’ she protested.

  Penelope opened the door dressed in brown corduroy trousers and a thick, green, baggy crew-neck jumper, her hair dragged back untidily. Jennifer glanced at her mother, saw her shocked expression, and had to bite her lip to stop herself from bursting with laughter.

  ‘Delia, Jennifer, come on in,’ she said, ‘and give me your coats.’

  ‘Thank you, and thank you too for inviting us.’

  Her mother sounded so formal, but Jenny just smiled at Penelope as they stepped inside. The entrance hall was a shamble of coats, wellington boots and umbrellas, and their coats were hooked precariously on top of a pile of others.

  ‘Goodness, you look awfully smart, Delia.’

  ‘This is just an old suit,’ she blustered. ‘I’ve had it for years.’

  ‘And there’s me still dressed for the stables.’

  ‘Do you keep horses, Penelope?’

  ‘Of course, in local stables. Don’t you?’

  ‘Er…no.’

  ‘What about you, Jennifer? Do you ride?’

  ‘No, it isn’t something I’ve tried.’

  ‘Goodness, how odd. My father put me on my first horse before I could walk. Come on through,’ Penelope then said, leading them to a drawing room that was clean, but dreadfully untidy. There were shabby leather sofas with cushions scattered haphazardly and side tables piled with magazines. ‘Take a seat and I’ll fetch the coffee.’

  ‘This is nice, sort of cosy,’ Jenny commented as she sat on a wing chair by the fire.

  ‘It isn’t what I expected.’

  ‘No, I didn’t think so.’

  ‘Still, now I’ve looked around there are some wonderful pieces in here. That clock is marvellous, and that horse painting,’ Delia said, pointing over towards the hearth. ‘It looks like a Stubbs and if so I bet it’s original.’

  ‘Of course it is,’ Penelope said, holding a tray. ‘It was my father’s and he gave it to us as a wedding present. I had the coffee ready, but excuse the mess. I’ve just lost another daily.’

  Jenny saw that her mother was flushing, obviously flustered that she had been overheard, but Delia recovered quickly. ‘Yes, staff can be very unreliable. Jennifer has a wonderful woman, though, and she’s been with her for over a year.’

  ‘Has she? Jennifer, do you think she’d work for me too?’

  ‘I don’t know, I could ask her.’

  ‘Wonderful,’ Penelope enthused, pouring the coffee. ‘I’m having a small dinner party on Thursday night. You must come, Jennifer, your husband too of course.’

  Just as she had feared, an invitation, one Marcos wouldn’t like, and Jenny quickly sought an excuse. ‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible. Marcos is rather busy at the moment and he’s rarely home before nine.’

  ‘I can sympathise with that. When Freddie was training he worked so many hours that I hardly saw him. Of course that was many years ago. Sugar, Delia?’

  ‘No, thank you.’

  Jenny was thankful when the two of them began to chat, mostly about the WI, and she was happy to sit quietly. She had got out of the invitation this time, but for how much longer?

  At last, after they had both refused another coffee, her mother said, ‘We should go now, Penelope, but you must come to me next time, perhaps tomorrow?’

  ‘Sorry, Delia, I’ve got something else on, lunc
h with friends and after that a frantically busy week.’

  ‘I see, well, never mind,’ Delia said, lips tight.

  They left then, and as soon as the door shut behind them, her mother hissed, ‘Did you hear what she said, Jennifer? Lunch with friends, but she didn’t invite me, nor did she invite your father and me to dinner. That invitation only went to you and Marcos.’

  ‘I shouldn’t think Daddy will care about that.’

  ‘Well, I do,’ Delia said as they reached her car. ‘When you moved into Almond Crescent – in a superior house to Penelope’s, I might add – I hoped it would gain me entry into her set.’

  Jenny frowned. ‘I see, so what you’re saying is that you saw me as a way in to what you deem a higher social circle?’

  ‘Well, yes, but you make it sound awful.’

  ‘What do you expect? I really thought you’d changed, but now I realise what all this mother-daughter stuff has been about. You just wanted to use me.’

  ‘No, Jennifer, that isn’t true. I’ve really come to enjoy the time we spend together, and you moving here just seemed opportune, that’s all. In fact, why don’t we spend more time together today? We could go for a look around the shops if you like.’

  Jenny shivered, cold in just her cardigan, but her mother sounded sincere and she wanted to believe her. ‘I’ll have to get my coat.’

  ‘Rather than getting yours out we might as well go in my car,’ Delia said.

  ‘All right,’ Jenny agreed and after getting a jacket rather than a coat, she climbed into her mother’s car.

  ‘I don’t know about you, Jennifer, but I’m a bit peckish. I thought Penelope would have at least offered us a biscuit with our coffee…and the way she was dressed. My goodness, she looked awful.’

  ‘She’d just returned from the stables.’

  ‘She could have changed.’

  ‘Perhaps Penelope doesn’t place as much importance on appearances as you do.’

  ‘Obviously not, and I’ve been silly, Jennifer. I haven’t got a thing in common with the woman, least of all horses, and no doubt the rest of her friends will be of a like mind. In future, I don’t think I’ll bother with Penelope. She really isn’t my cup of tea.’

  Jenny hid a smile. In reality the situation was the reverse, and it was her mother’s pride talking. It had been nice though when her mother had said that she enjoyed their time together. They usually met once, sometimes twice a week. At other times Jenny had to admit that she was often lonely. She hadn’t had a real friend for ages, not since Tina, and still found herself thinking about her now and then, wondering where she was and if she’d at least put her father’s money to good use.

  It still hurt to think about what Tina had done, and the experience had left Jenny slow to trust. It had meant that the young women of her own age that she had met at cookery classes remained just acquaintances, and these had now drifted away. She had Marcos and her parents, but what Jenny really wanted was a baby, something to fill the empty space she still felt in her life.

  Jenny inadvertently touched her tummy, a small smile playing around her lips. It was possible, just possible.

  Chapter Forty

  The end of February found Jenny smiling in anticipation. She couldn’t wait to see Marcos’s face and just hoped he’d be home a little earlier than usual. She had been wondering what to get him for his birthday, and had eventually settled on a watch, giving it to him that morning. Now, however, she had something much better – the perfect gift.

  Headlights lit up the curtains and she rose to her feet. It was only five o’clock but he was here. She wanted to fly out to the hall to welcome him, to blurt it out, but resisted. This was so special, so precious, and she wanted to savour the moment.

  ‘Hello, darling,’ Marcos said.

  ‘I was hoping you wouldn’t be late, but wasn’t expecting you yet.’

  ‘Is this a nice surprise then?’

  ‘Yes, lovely.’

  ‘Good, because I’m afraid I won’t be home at all tomorrow night. I’ve been offered a garage in Wales and as sorting out a deal might drag on I’ve booked a hotel for the night.”

  ‘Oh, right,’ Jenny said, hardly listening.

  ‘You’re not upset, are you? It’s only one night.’

  ‘No, no, it’s fine,’ she said. Then, unable to wait any longer: ‘I…I went to see the doctor today.’

  ‘The doctor! Why? Are you ill? What’s wrong?’

  Poor Marcos, he looked a little worried, and now Jenny smiled widely. ‘There’s nothing wrong. That’s unless you consider pregnancy an illness.’

  His eyes widened, his mouth opened, then closed again, and the next thing Jenny knew she was in his arms, lifted off her feet.

  ‘You’re having a baby!’ he cried out joyfully. ‘Jenny, you’re having a baby!’

  ‘Yes, I am,’ she said as he put her down, though his arms remained around her.

  ‘I can’t believe it. A father. I’m going to be a father.’

  ‘You certainly are, and our baby will be born in August.’

  He was quiet for a moment, but then said, ‘That means you’re already three months gone. Why didn’t you say something before this?’

  ‘We’ve had false alarms, disappointments, and well, this time I wanted to be one hundred per cent sure.’

  He released her, stepped back. ‘What am I doing, Jenny? Sit down. Rest.’

  ‘There’s no need. I’m fine.’

  ‘I’ll have to see about getting you more help. We’ll extend Edna Moon’s hours.’

  ‘Marcos, please, that isn’t necessary.’

  ‘All right, maybe not now, but in a few more months.’

  He looked so worried and just to reassure him, Jenny said, ‘We’ll see, but there’s no need to get in a tizzy. I’m only having a baby.’

  ‘Only! Jenny, you have no idea how much this means to me.’

  ‘Me too,’ she said, moving back into his arms. Over the last month or so, she had dared to hope, but her monthlies had always been a bit irregular, and until the doctor had confirmed it she’d had doubts, especially as there’d been no sign of the symptoms she’d heard about, morning sickness being one of them.

  ‘I wonder if it’s a boy or girl?’ Marcos said, standing back again to place his hand on her stomach.

  ‘Do you mind?’

  ‘No, but a boy would be nice. I can’t believe I didn’t notice before. You’ve actually got a little bulge.’

  ‘It’ll be a lot bigger than that soon.’

  ‘You’ll still be beautiful. You’ll always be beautiful to me. Now then, time to be practical. No doubt babies need lots of things, and we’ll have to kit out a nursery. I’ll put more money into your account before I leave for Wales tomorrow, enough to cover everything.’

  Jenny smiled. Yes, there were times when Marcos appeared different, cold, hard, but they were few and far between. Mostly he was like this, so loving, so generous, and he’d be a wonderful father too.

  Marcos went upstairs to freshen up, his mind racing. As though she was in the room with him, he whispered, ‘See, you old witch, you were wrong.’

  Smirking, he shaved, something he had to do twice a day. A son, yes, he’d love a son, and his boy would never suffer as he had. His father had beat him, thrashed him with a belt, while his mother had stood by watching it happen, doing nothing to stop it. He knew why, of course, she had been too frightened that the old man would turn on her. Better to let her son suffer than for her to be at the receiving end of his blows.

  He had grown up with hate in his heart and had hardened, determined that outside of his home nobody else would dare to lay a finger on him. He’d become the leader of a gang, and built a reputation for violence to any opposition. Still the beatings from his father had continued, until one day Marcos had turned, using his fists and more until the old man’s face had looked like pulp. It was only then that Marcos realised he’d gone too far, and he had stupidly agreed to his father’s dying words
, made that vow that had held him for so long. What a mug he’d been then, but at least as he’d had the wits to cover his tracks well, disposing of the body so far from home that it had been weeks before it was found. Only the old witch had guessed, thought she knew, but she couldn’t prove it, which was just as well or he’d have taken her out too.

  Marcos didn’t want to think about her now. He’d just had wonderful news. He was going to be a father and he swelled with pride. His child would want for nothing and it was just as well the job was on for tomorrow night to fill his coffers. Jenny was pregnant, but it didn’t mean he had to change his plans. With the proceeds, along with everything else, they’d still go to Spain where his son, or perhaps his daughter, would be born.

  Refreshed, Marcos went back downstairs and pulled Jenny into his arms again. ‘Have you told your parents?’

  ‘No, of course not. I wanted you to be the first to know.’

  Marcos found that he wanted to share the news, to preen, to show he was a man. ‘Come on then, let’s go round to your parents’ house now.’

  ‘But what about dinner?’

  ‘It’s only six o’clock, and anyway, I think that after we’ve told them we should all go out to celebrate.’

  ‘They’re going to be grandparents and thrilled to bits,’ Jenny said, her eyes shining as she went to get her coat.

  Marcos hid a smile. By the time the baby was born they’d be long gone, in Spain, and Jenny’s parents would be well and truly out of the picture.

  Delia was surprised to see Jennifer and Marcos, even more so when her son-in-law said, ‘We’re going out for dinner and wondered if you’d like to join us?’

  ‘What, this evening?’ she asked.

  ‘Well, yes. You see, we have something to celebrate.’

  Delia smiled as the penny dropped. ‘Of course, your birthday.’

  ‘And thank you for your card and present.’

  ‘You’re welcome and happy birthday,’ Edward said.

  ‘Thanks, but we’ve more than that to celebrate and I’m sure Jenny is itching to tell you. Go on, darling.’