‘Yes, I think so.’ Maddie sighed and stared into the distance once more. Am I all right? She wasn’t sure.
‘Well, you seemed a bit sort of lost during dinner and now you look almost … haunted. I couldn’t help wondering if something was the matter. Did Alex upset you today? I know he can be quite the charmer, but I thought he had grown out of his old ways and stopped flirting with anything in a skirt.’
‘Alex? No, he has nothing to do with this. I’m sorry if I wasn’t very good company.’
‘That’s okay. What’s up then?’
‘Well ...’ Maddie hesitated, then made up her mind. She had to tell someone or she’d go mad. ‘Kayla, you know I told you about the strange things that gypsy woman said to me and how they fit in with a recurring dream I have?’
‘Yes.’
‘Today something happened and I think it might be connected with her prophecy somehow.’
‘How do you mean?’
Maddie knew Kayla had experienced strange things herself a few years past, so it didn’t surprise her that she didn’t question Maddie’s feelings. As far as Kayla was concerned, paranormal things happened and she believed in them wholeheartedly.
‘It was weird, but a man bumped into me down by the marina in Dartmouth, and when I looked at him I thought I recognised him. At first I wasn’t sure why, but I’ve thought about it and I think he’s the man in my dream. The one who grabs me from behind.’ She shuddered. ‘The one who is evil, as the gypsy said.’
‘Did he give any sign that he knew you?’
‘No, he was just angry, as if the whole thing had been my fault. Called me a bloody tourist, or something like that. I followed him on impulse and found out he’s a minister of some sort called Blake-Jones. Have you heard of him?’
‘Oh, yes, actually I have. He’s one of those “fire and brimstone” preachers who put the fear of God into their congregations. Leader of some strange sect apparently. A friend of mine told me he has a wife and daughter who creep around like mice, afraid of their own shadows. The man must be a bully.’
‘Sounds right. He sure looked like one! Grumpy as hell. Not my idea of a man of God.’ Maddie shivered again, recalling that dark visage.
‘So what are you going to do about it? Are you going to talk to him?’
‘No way, absolutely not! I’d rather not meet him again, thank you very much, but I’ve come to a decision. I think I need to find out who I really am. You know, who my real parents were, like you said. Perhaps my strange dreams are connected to my past. What do you think?’
‘Are you sure they don’t just stem from some incident in your childhood? I mean, you would hardly remember anything from before your adoption since you were only a baby. Did you ever ask your parents?’
‘I told my mum about the dream when I was little, but she always said it was just my imagination. My parents didn’t have any friends or acquaintances with either black or red beards. In fact, none with beards at all. Anyway, if something had happened to me that could result in such nightmares, I’m sure she would have told me.’
‘Hmm, well, maybe you’re right. You do need to find out more. If I were you, I think I’d be curious anyway. There must have been a good reason why your natural parents couldn’t keep you. I mean, having had children myself, I can’t imagine ever giving them up, but I suppose there are circumstances that might make it necessary.’
‘Yes, that’s what I thought.’ Maddie had to admit she was curious now. The feeling had been growing ever since she’d found out she was adopted, even though her first reaction had been one of anger and disbelief. Mixed with the curiosity, however, was that fear of rejection which had so far prevented her from making enquiries, but she knew now she couldn’t let it stop her. She had no illusions there would be a happy reunion, but even if her birth parents didn’t want to acknowledge her, she still needed to find out why they’d given her up. At the moment her background was simply a black void and it needed to be filled with information, whether good or bad. It would help her to come to terms with it all.
‘If you don’t mind, I’ll go back to London for a few days and see what I can find out. Tomorrow I’ll call social services to see if I have to make an appointment or anything first.’
‘Good idea. I think you have to get this out of your system before you look to the future.’
Maddie nodded. ‘Thanks, Kayla.’ Her stomach was churning at the thought of what might lie ahead, but there was no alternative. This was something she had to do.
Maddie didn’t waste any time and the next morning she made a series of phone calls. When she’d finished she went in search of Kayla, and found her in the kitchen.
‘I did it. I found out what to do.’
‘Great, so what did they say?’
‘Well, the lady I spoke to wouldn’t give me any information over the phone, but I’ve made an appointment to go and see a counsellor next week. It’s not a requirement because I was born after 1975 and the law changed then and things became more open, but she said it was a good idea. This is quite a big step to take and I agree with her it would be great to have some guidance.’
‘So there’s no problem about finding out who your parents were?’
‘Not as such. People who had their children adopted before 1975 were told that those children would never be able to trace them, but nowadays they’re not given any guarantees. That doesn’t mean they want to be found though.’
‘I guess not. Tricky, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, although they have to disclose the information by law, I think they want me to understand the seriousness of what I’m doing. I have to bring proof of identity, and the woman said the counsellor will give me further details at the interview.’
‘When are you leaving?’
‘I’ll go up to London on Tuesday, the interview is on Wednesday.’
‘Fine. Hurry back, though, won’t you? You only just got here, so we don’t want to lose you yet.’
‘Don’t worry. Wild horses couldn’t keep me in London right now.’
London was dirty and noisy compared to Marcombe, and Maddie wrinkled her nose as she stepped off the train. The odours of pollution and humanity hung over everything like a soggy blanket in the humid summer heat, and she felt contaminated by the dust all around her. It was strange, but she had never noticed before, simply taken it for granted as so many other city dwellers did. London was a wonderful place in many ways, and all its inhabitants had learned to live with both the pros and cons. Occasionally, however, it was a relief to escape from the hustle and bustle of the big city. Maddie had an urge to turn around and catch the train back to Devon, never to return, but her determination to find out more about her background won out. She picked up her bag and headed for the exit.
As she made her way by tube to the tiny flat in Fulham which she shared with her friend Jessie, doubts niggled at her. Was she doing the right thing? Was there really anything to gain by digging up the past? Shouldn’t she be happy that she had been raised by two wonderful people who had cared for her very much? They had been her family. They’d wanted her, unlike her birth parents. She sighed and wiped perspiration off her brow with the back of her hand. The questions whirled round inside her tired brain, but it all came back to one thing – she needed to know. It was as simple as that.
The flat was a short walk from Fulham Broadway tube station and it wasn’t long before she was putting the key in the front door.
‘Maddie! What are you doing here? I thought you were on holiday.’ Jessie had been sitting on the sofa, engrossed in a book, and looked up as Maddie entered. She smiled broadly and jumped up to give her friend a welcoming hug, her long, auburn hair swinging out behind her. Jessie’s violet eyes looked enormous, magnified as they were by a fashionable pair of glasses with lilac frames.
The two girls had met during one of Maddie’s temping assignments and had hit it off immediately. Jessie was quiet and bookish and her main hobby was genealogy, which she pursued wi
th never-ending fascination, but she had a quiet sense of humour which appealed to Maddie and the two of them shared many other interests.
‘I’m sorry, Jessie, I forgot to call and tell you I was coming. It’s only temporary though. Something’s come up.’
‘Oh? Must be interesting if it made you return to this hell-hole. Honestly, this last week I really thought I was going to die of heatstroke. My office has no air-conditioning and the windows barely open. I’ve tried to persuade the boss to install some, or at least buy us all fans, but he says it’s not worth it for just a few weeks a year. Tight git.’ Jessie patted the sofa. ‘Come and sit down. I’ll pour us a glass of wine and you can tell me what’s going on.’
At the end of a catch-up chat, Jessie suddenly remembered something. ‘Sorry, I forgot to tell you – your sister rang. Wanted to discuss something with you.’
‘Oh? When was this?’
‘A couple of days ago. Actually, she’s left several messages since then, but I’ve ignored her.’ Jessie smiled. ‘I thought I’d let you deal with her.’
‘Thanks,’ Maddie said, making a face. ‘Just what I need. I guess I’d better call her back straight away and get it over with.’
Olivia, as usual, didn’t have time for any niceties. ‘At last,’ she exclaimed, without so much as a ‘hello’. ‘Where the hell have you been?’
‘None of your business.’ Maddie was through being conciliatory and she’d hoped never to hear from Olivia again. ‘You rang?’
‘Yes, I need the silver tea spoons.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘You heard me – the silver spoons you took. I’m having a little dinner party and I need them back. They belong to the rest of the cutlery set Mum and Dad had and …’
‘No!’ Maddie almost shouted, then took a deep breath and started again. ‘No, they were given to me by the aunts and uncles on my tenth birthday. There’s a card inside the box signed by them all. Mum said they’d decided I was old enough to be given something “useful” instead of toys. So go buy your own tea spoons.’
Olivia went quiet for a second, but soon rallied. ‘Fine, whatever. But you’ll have to give back Mum’s gold bracelet. I don’t see why you should have that. Or at the very least, we should sell it and split the money.’
Maddie gritted her teeth so hard her temples hurt. ‘Olivia, listen to me. I’m not giving you back a single thing I took from that house. You’re getting my entire share of the sale of it so I owe you nothing. Nothing! And for your information, I bought Mum that bracelet, so I bloody well do have a right to it. Now sod off and don’t ever call me again, got it?’
She slammed the phone down and fumed silently. If only she’d had a decent sister, how much easier life would have been. But the conversation with Olivia had helped in one respect – she now felt doubly justified in searching for her birth parents. If she found them, she’d have some family other than her adopted sister, and whether they wanted her or not, it had to be better than what she had now.
Chapter Seven
‘God, this is worse than going to the dentist,’ Maddie grumbled.
She was sitting in the waiting room of a non-descript office building somewhere in Holborn with Jessie, who had come to lend her support. The time for her appointment had come and gone, and she was sure that if it wasn’t her turn soon she would return to Devon without any nails whatsoever. She had bitten each and every one down to the quick and they were beginning to ache. Swearing under her breath she sat on her hands.
‘Shame we don’t have to wear gloves these days,’ she muttered. ‘I can see why they used to now.’ For some reason she was convinced her future happiness depended on the outcome of today’s interview, and that terrified her.
‘Calm down, I’m sure it will be your turn soon. You know government officials always work at their own pace.’ Jessie said reassuringly, and Maddie gave her a grateful look.
‘It’s lucky I have you and Kayla. I don’t know what I would do without you two.’
Jessie smiled. ‘Why don’t you read a magazine or something? It will take your mind off the waiting.’
‘Madeline Browne.’ A small woman had appeared at the door and Maddie jumped at the sound of her name. She stood up abruptly, almost overturning the chair in the process.
Jessie whispered, ‘Good luck,’ before giving her a small push in the right direction. Maddie swallowed hard and followed the counsellor into a maze of corridors.
The woman introduced herself as Bridget Wells, and eventually led Maddie into a small room with a rather dismal view of more office blocks. It was a curiously bare space – no plants, no pictures except for one large print of a particularly ugly Picasso painting and no papers. The desk was uncluttered and even the bin was empty. It gave the impression of being impersonal and cold, even sterile, and was obviously not someone’s office, but simply a room used for conducting interviews. A few pigeons were seated on the window ledge outside occupied with grooming themselves, and Maddie tried to focus on them to calm herself. She wasn’t very successful though, since she usually found them irritating with their constant cooing and pecking.
‘Please have a seat, Ms Browne.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Right then. Have you brought some form of identification?’ Maddie produced the necessary documents. ‘Excellent. Now tell me a bit about why you wish to find out about your natural parents, please.’
‘Well, my adopted parents were killed recently in a car crash, and it wasn’t until the reading of their will that I was informed of the adoption. They had never told me and always treated me as if I was their real daughter. Which, I suppose, to them I was, I mean ...’
Ms Wells nodded her understanding as Maddie floundered in her reasoning. She felt confused and once more had to sit on her hands. The temptation to chew her nails was always strongest whenever she was agitated, and it had never been as difficult to resist as today.
She managed to continue, ‘Naturally, it made me curious, and although I’m aware that my birth parents may not want me to contact them, I would at least like to try and find out a bit more about my real background. Perhaps to understand why ...’ Maddie broke off, suddenly unable to go on because there was a lump forming in her throat. The enormity of the situation had been brought home to her more forcefully by sitting in this bleak, depressing office, talking to a complete stranger, albeit a sympathetic one.
‘I see,’ said the counsellor. ‘Well, your curiosity is understandable, Ms Browne, but it’s my duty to prepare you for the fact that you contacting them may cause everyone concerned a lot of emotional stress and anguish. When someone gives up their child for adoption, it can be a very painful process, something they might not want to be reminded of. And although they will not have forgotten, they may not be pleased to hear from you. That, in turn, would affect you badly as well.’
Maddie felt her stomach contract painfully. ‘I know,’ she whispered.
‘It could be that you were adopted because your birth mother wanted to keep her pregnancy a secret, and in her later life she may not want the secret to be discovered. I’m sure you can understand that.’
‘Yes, of course I do.’
‘I just want you to know the possible effects of your actions before you do anything else. You have to be absolutely sure you are ready to face whatever facts you find. Believe me, you hear a lot of stories about people who find each other after twenty, thirty years and hit it off straight away, but the reality isn’t always quite so rosy. In fact, most often it’s not.’
Maddie stared out the window, attempting to keep her own emotions in check. This interview was a lot more painful than she had imagined it would be.
‘However,’ Ms Wells continued, ‘on a more positive note, there is a slight chance your birth mother would have changed her mind by now and is longing for you to contact her. After all, this happened a long time ago, and just as you are curious about her, she might wish to know what has become of you. Her circumstances c
ould have changed as well. You could begin by checking on internet sites where people can reconnect with one another.’
Maddie nodded and fidgeted on her chair, studying her poor mistreated fingernails in minute detail. ‘So what happens now?’
‘I have here the details of your original name, date and place of birth, et cetera.’ Ms Wells pushed an A4 size paper across the desk towards Maddie, who picked it up almost reverently. ‘With this information you can apply for a full birth certificate from the Registrar General. That takes about five working days. Once you receive it, you will have to try and trace your birth parents yourself.’ A slight frown creased her brow. ‘I’m afraid there’s been some sort of administrative hiccup though and at the moment we don’t have any more information relating to your particular case. There should have been some, but it has most likely been saved in the wrong file or something. We are working on it and we’ll soon find it, I’m sure.’
‘I see.’ Maddie lifted the piece of paper with shaking fingers and read the scant notes. The stark black writing stood out against the pure white of the paper. To begin with, the letters danced in front of her eyes, and she had trouble making sense of them, but she took a deep breath and the words finally settled down into a coherent sentence. ‘Madeline Browne, original name Sorcha Kettering, born 19th August 1984, Shepleigh, Wiltshire. Mother’s name Ruth Kettering, father unknown.’ The name of the local authority who had authorised the adoption was also stated.
Maddie’s chest felt as if it were enclosed in an iron vice, and her stomach refused to settle down.
‘Ms Browne?’
Maddie realised Ms Wells was speaking to her. ‘What? Sorry, I ...’
‘I was just saying that you’re welcome to call me at any time if you have any further queries. And I will, of course, be in touch once we find the missing file.’
‘Thank you. You’ve been very kind. I, er ... thanks.’ Maddie was about to leave when she noticed something. ‘Hang on a minute. The date of adoption – it’s three years after my birth. Can that be right?’
The Soft Whisper of Dreams Page 5