The Long Way Home: A moving saga of lost family

by Whitmee, Jeanne

  ‘Leicester. I studied floristry there. Now I work in a florist’s shop in Edgware.’ She paused. ‘Were you happy? Did you have any brothers or sisters?’

  ‘No — to both questions. I was in the children’s home till I was seven. My adoption never really worked out. But tell me about you. I can’t get over meeting you like this.’

  ‘It seems Hannah Brown contacted my parents,’ Sally told her. ‘They knew her from when they adopted me years ago. I think they were quite glad to see her. I’ve left home, you see. I took a job in London before they could find out about this.’ She looked down at her expanding stomach. ‘I didn’t want them to know about it.’

  Leah laid down her knife and fork. ‘That’s awful. Are they so terrible then?’

  ‘No. That’s just it.’ Sally sighed, ‘It’s hard to explain and it makes me sound so ungrateful. But I wanted to take control of my own life. When this happened it changed me — made me think. I wanted time and space to discover … who I am, I suppose. I’ve been so shielded all my life, you see. I knew that if I didn’t do it now, I never would.’

  ‘I know the feeling,’ Leah said. ‘I left home too. I was sick of my parents trying to turn me into someone else. The more they pulled me one way, the more I pulled the other.’ She looked at this girl who said she was her sister, trying to feel some bond — some empathy. ‘Will you be all right? Is the baby’s father helping you?’

  ‘No. I’m having it adopted.’

  ‘You’re not serious?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Leah stared at her, her eyes round and very bright. ‘But you can’t.’

  ‘What do you mean, I can’t?’ Sally’s eyes were defensive. ‘I’ve no choice.’

  ‘You can’t just give it away,’ Leah said. ‘Not after what happened to you and me. Why can’t you keep it?’

  ‘How could I? How could I work and support a child? Where would we live, and who’d employ me under those circumstances? As it stands I’ve got a job to go back to. With a child in tow …’ She shook her head. ‘It’s impossible. Do you think I haven’t thought it through?’

  Leah was deeply shocked by the unexpected emotions that gnawed viciously at her insides. Suddenly she had found the bond she was seeking, but it was not for the stranger sitting opposite her, not for her sister, but for the child she carried and planned to give away.

  ‘Look — if you told your parents, they’d help you,’ she said. ‘They sound like good people. I bet they’d hate the idea of your handing your child over to some stranger. The poor little kid might end up like I did. It’s their grandchild, Sally. Don’t you think they have a right to help it? If I were having a baby there’d be no one — nothing on this earth that could make me part with it.’ In her earnestness she leaned forward so suddenly that she knocked over her glass of wine. The blood red stain spread slowly across the white tablecloth.

  Sally jumped up. ‘It’s all right for you to talk like that,’ she said. ‘But it’s not you who’s pregnant. It’s me. And I’ll do what I want — what I feel is best.’ She stood looking down at Leah, her cheeks pink and her eyes bright with tears. ‘I might have known,’ she said bitterly. ‘I might have known you’d be just like all the others. You want to make me toe the line just like they did. I won’t be told what to do with my life.’ She snatched her raincoat from the hook behind the door and began to pull it on.

  ‘Please — don’t go,’ Leah pleaded. ‘Let me try to help. I want to. Please, Sally.’

  ‘No.’ She stood by the door, breathing hard and shaking her head. ‘Leave me alone. I was wrong to come here, I knew it wouldn’t work. I just wanted — I thought …’ She ran out of the room and was out of the basement door and up the area steps before Leah could stop her. Following, she called her name:

  ‘Sally — Sally!’

  But Sally didn’t look back. She just kept moving, as fast as her bulk would allow.

  Standing by the railings Leah watched the stumbling figure of her sister hurrying through the rain towards the main road. And it was only then that she realised that she hadn’t even asked her where she lived.

  *

  When Bill came in he found Leah washing up. The table was still spread with the wine-soaked cloth and the half-finished casserole stood on top of the Aga.

  ‘Hi. Well, how did it go?’ He stood warming his hands over the stove, rubbing them together, ‘It’s a pig of a day, isn’t it?’ When she didn’t reply he turned to look at her. She was hunched over the sink, idly wiping the draining board. ‘Uh-huh. I take it things didn’t go as planned.’ He peered at the casserole, lifting the lid and sniffing appreciatively. ‘You haven’t eaten much. What happened? Mum turn out to be a vegetarian?’

  Leah turned to him, drying her hands on a teatowel. ‘As it happened she didn’t turn up at all. And if you want some of that you’d better get yourself a plate.’

  ‘Oh, hard luck — about your mum, I mean. Hey, can I really have some of this nosh? It smells terrific and I’m starving.’

  Leah fetched a plate from the cupboard and spooned a generous helping of meat and vegetables on to it, adding the remaining potatoes. ‘There. That do you?’

  ‘Fantastic.’ Bill rubbed his hands together in anticipation and pulled out a chair. Leah sat down opposite and watched him for a few minutes in gloomy silence.

  ‘Someone else turned up though,’ she said at last.

  He looked up. ‘Oh? Who?’

  ‘My sister. The one I was telling you about. She was waiting here when I got back from Waterloo. I couldn’t believe it at first.’

  ‘Great. So you had a reunion after all?’

  Leah shook her head. ‘I blew it, Bill. Messed the whole thing up. We had a row. Can you believe it? We meet for the very first time. Twin sisters. An auspicious occasion, you’d expect. And what do I do? I upset her — drove her away.’

  ‘So you had a row.’ Bill grinned. ‘Sounds very normal to me. I never stop rowing with my sister. She’ll be back.’

  ‘No, she won’t. You don’t understand, Bill.’ She laid her head down on her folded arms. ‘I can’t seem to hit it off with anyone. It’s me. There’s something wrong with me. There must be.’ She looked up at him sideways, her dark eyes swimming with tears.

  Bill sighed and laid down his knife and fork. ‘Come on, girl. It’s not like you to be depressed.’

  She sat up. ‘How would you know what’s like me and what isn’t? Sometimes I don’t think I know myself.’

  He nodded. ‘Missing Tel?’

  She shrugged. ‘I’ll bet he’s glad to get away from me too.’

  ‘Oh dear. We are feeling sorry for ourselves this evening, aren’t we?’

  Leah got up and walked straight-backed towards the door, ‘If all you can do is make fun of me …’

  He moved quickly, reaching the door before she did. ‘Hey, come on, kid. Where’s your sense of humour? It can’t be as bad as all that.’

  ‘It is. It is.’ She bit her lip hard, hating the idea of weeping in front of someone as tough as Bill. Laughing gently, he reached out and pulled her against him. ‘Go on — have a good howl on your Uncle Bill. You know you want to.’

  She gave in and wept copiously into the shoulder of his plaid shirt, vaguely registering the fact that it smelled of a mixture of leather and tobacco, tinged comfortingly with the scent of male skin. Bill rubbed her back with one of his large paw-like hands, which turned out to be surprisingly gentle. After a moment or two he pushed a large handkerchief into her hand.

  ‘Here, better have a blow,’ he said. ‘Otherwise your eyes’ll puff up and I shan’t fancy you any more.’

  She did as he said, laughing — a little shamefaced. ‘Thanks, Bill.’

  ‘Feeling better now?’ He tipped up her chin to look at her.

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘Tell you what,’ he said cheerfully. ‘You fed me. And incidentally, that was the best grub I’ve eaten since my old mum chucked me out. One good turn, as the saying goes.
Come to the pub with me. We’ll spend the rest of the evening drowning our sorrows together.’

  Seated together in The Prince of Wales, Bill’s favourite local, he confided in her that he’d spoken to his ex-wife on the telephone that morning. She’d told him she wouldn’t be coming to London for Christmas after all.

  ‘Some job she’s been offered,’ he said. ‘At least, that’s what she says. If you ask me it’s some new bloke.’

  ‘Why shouldn’t she tell you if it’s that?’ Leah asked. ‘After all, you are divorced.’

  He gave her a wry smile. ‘Some ties are not so easily severed, my angel.’

  She winced. ‘There I go again. You see. I’m always putting my foot in it.’

  Bill leaned across and took her hand, pressing it warmly between both of his. ‘No. You’ve just got some living to do, love. That’s all.’ He peered at her. ‘What did you and your sister fall out over? You never did tell me.’

  Leah sighed. ‘She’s pregnant. And she says she’s having the baby adopted. It just seemed so awful. Like history repeating itself. I said …’ She looked up at him ruefully. ‘Well, too much anyway.’

  Bill nodded understandingly. ‘The guy responsible took off, I take it?’

  ‘So it seems. Oh, Bill, I should have thought. She obviously couldn’t manage by herself. I tried to tell her to go home. Can you imagine — me giving advice like that? And the rotten thing is, I can’t put it right. She left without leaving me an address.’

  ‘Maybe she’ll come back again when she’s had time to cool down.’

  She shrugged. ‘Not a hope. I know I wouldn’t.’ They both drank a little more than was wise, though it seemed to have little or no effect on Bill, and at ten o’clock they walked back to Melbury Street hand in hand. The rain had stopped now and the sky was clear. There was a fine frosty moon and a sprinkling of stars.

  ‘So you’re not going home to your folks for Christmas?’ Bill asked.

  Leah gave an explosive little laugh. ‘You’ve got to be joking. I’m the last person they’d want to see.’

  ‘But would you like to see them — be honest now?’ Bill bent his head to look into her face.

  ‘The only person I’d like to see is my gran,’ Leah confessed. ‘She’s the only person who was ever honest with me. The only one I’ve missed.’

  ‘Well, why don’t you go then?’

  ‘I couldn’t.’

  ‘Why not? Just get on a train. Go for the day.’ Leah was silent, examining her own reluctance. ‘Time off might be a problem.’

  ‘You could get the morning off and be back in time for the evening rush.’

  Leah pursed her lips. ‘Mmm — Nenebridge is very small. Someone’d be sure to see me.’

  ‘Okay, so they’d see you. Would it matter?’

  Leah laughed. ‘You’re right. What the hell? Why don’t I just do it? If there are trains running at convenient times, that is.’

  In the kitchen at Melbury Street Bill made coffee while Leah did the rest of the tidying up. She was at the sink, still fussing over the wine stain on the table cloth, when he made a sudden exclamation. She turned to see him looking at his diary.

  ‘How far from Nenebridge is Huntingdon?’ he asked.

  ‘Not too far — about twenty miles. Why?’

  ‘Just that I have to go there next Saturday to interview a politician at his country home,’ he said. ‘It’s to be a big double page spread with colour pics and the works, so I’ll be taking a photographer. But there’s room in the car for one more little ’un. Why don’t I drop you off at your gran’s on the way — pick you up on the way back?’

  Leah drew in her breath sharply. ‘Oh, Bill. That would be marvellous. Thank you.’ She launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him soundly.

  ‘Hey, no need to bust a gusset.’ He laughed down into her eyes. Then, driven by some irresistible urge, he gathered her close and kissed her again. The feel of her slender body in his arms and her soft mouth on his made his cynical heart beat like a boy’s again. Very reluctantly, he put her gently from him.

  ‘That’s enough of that. Next thing you know I’ll be getting to like it.’ He took her arms from around his neck and held her two hands firmly in his, kissing the fingertips. ‘If you take my advice you’ll get off to your room now, kid. Go on.’ He turned her round and gave her a little push. ‘Hop it while the going’s good.’

  She turned at the door and looked at him with shining eyes. ‘Goodnight, Bill. And thanks again.’

  *

  Nenebridge looked much the same as before she left. The streets were busy with Saturday shoppers as they drove through the town. In the market place all the familiar stalls were there, the traders doing their usual brisk trade in fruit and locally grown vegetables. And Leah saw with a small pang of nostalgia that the man with the Christmas trees was in the same pitch he always had in the weeks before Christmas. He stood there just as he had every year since she could remember, his cap pulled down over his eyes and a dew drop on the end of his long nose. As they crossed the river she saw that the war memorial still wore its collar of weather-worn poppy wreaths and everywhere the festive decorations brightened the grey winter gloom.

  Leah got out of the car outside Kate Dobson’s bungalow and waved to Bill and his photographer friend as they drove away. She walked round to the back and tapped on the door. Inside, she could hear Kate muttering to herself and a moment later the door opened to reveal the familiar wrinkled face and springy white hair. Granny Dobson stared at her incredulously for a moment, then the blue eyes lit up and she flung the door wide with an exclamation of delight.

  ‘Well, well. Look what the wind blew in. Come you on in, my old sugar. Don’t stand out there freezing to death.’ She held out her arms and Leah hugged her warmly.

  ‘Oh, Gran. It’s lovely to see you.’

  The old women held her at arms’ length, looking into her eyes. ‘Have you come to stay?’ she asked.

  Leah shook her head. ‘No. A friend was coming this way and he offered to give me a lift. I’ve only come for the day — to see you.’

  ‘So you won’t be paying our Jack a visit?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Gran. I did ring Hilary a while ago, but she didn’t seem pleased to hear from me. She hung up, in fact.’

  Gran shook her head as she went about putting the kettle on. ‘That Hilary. Stupid, shallow woman. Not that our Jack is any better, though I s’pose I shouldn’t say it.’ She smiled her mischievous smile at Leah. ‘Well, never mind. All the more time for you to spend with your old gran then.’ She patted Leah’s shoulder. ‘And you don’t look so bad either, seein’ as you live in that dirty old city. Come on then. Tell me all your news.’

  They sat over the fire in the living room, drinking cup after cup of Gran’s strong, scalding tea and exchanging gossip. Leah told about the time she spent at Cleybourn and worked at The Mermaid; her move to London and her job at Bella’s; about the house she shared with Terry and Bill. She confided to Kate her disappointment over the broken appointment with her mother. And finally the surprise arrival of Sally. Shamefacedly, she confessed to the quarrel they’d had about the coming baby. Gran listened to it all gravely but impartially.

  ‘Seems you’ve packed a lot into the time you’ve been away,’ she said at last. ‘But then that’s modern life for you. It all moves much too fast for old biddies like me.’ She shook her head. ‘No wonder folks burn themselves out so young these days. So you've had a setback with your blood relatives then?’

  ‘It’s more than a setback, Gran. More like a disaster. I’ve tried so hard to find them. I wanted so much to get to know them both, and now — through my own stupidity — it looks as though I never will.’

  ‘This social worker person you mentioned, can’t she tell you anything?’ Kate asked. ‘She must know how to get in touch with both your mother and your sister.’

  ‘I’ve been trying to ring her all week,’ Leah said. ‘But she’s not ans
wering the phone. She must be away.’

  Gran smiled reassuringly. ‘Well — she’ll be back, girl. And when you tell her what’s happened she’ll help you. It’ll all come out in the wash. Just you see if it don’t. I’ve lived long enough to see that everything works out for the best in the end, my girl.’ She winked. ‘Things haven’t exactly stood still here, you know. It may not be London but it’s not short of a bit of drama.’

  Leah grinned. ‘Tell me about it.’

  ‘Well, we had a Royal visit in October. When they opened those new flats down by the river. The Queen Mother came. I went to see her. Got a lovely view.’ She smiled. ‘Aah, lovely, she was, in her blue hat and coat.’ She chuckled. ‘Caused quite a kerfuffle, among the councillors by all accounts; fighting over who should be presented to her and all. Then there was Bill Thompson — him that lived next-door to Jack and Hilary. He had a heart attack soon after. All the excitement I shouldn’t wonder. Okay now, but touch and go for weeks it was.’ She leaned forward. ‘Then there’s our friend Tom Clayton. Now, he’s got himself into a real mess.’

  ‘Tom has? How?’

  Gran chuckled. ‘Started runnin’ round with a young married woman from over Kingsbury way. His missus found out and there was all ’ell let loose. She got in touch with the woman’s husband. Now she’s suin’ Tom for divorce.’

  ‘Really?’ Leah said.

  ‘They do say she’s tryin’ to get three-quarters of everything he owns,’ Kate went on. ‘Mind you — could be he thinks it’s worth it. Ate, drank and slept them horses, that Angela did, so they say. Put them before everything. No wonder poor old Tom was lookin’ for his oats elsewhere.’ She chuckled as she helped herself to another biscuit. ‘He come off a poor second this time though, in more ways than one. I heard that the woman’s husband gave him a black eye. Waited for him leavin’ his shop one night and dotted him a good fourpenny one. He had to wear dark glasses for a fortnight.’ Gran slapped her knee and laughed, but the laughter developed into a fit of uncontrollable coughing, turning her face red and making her eyes water. Concerned, Leah poured her another cup of tea.