Nameless

by Jessie Keane

  ‘Good God.’ Daisy’s face was pale with horror.

  ‘He wound up at a children’s home, but it burned down and he died there.’

  ‘Oh, Ruby, I’m so sorry.’ Daisy’s eyes filled with tears. ‘How awful.’

  ‘So . . .’ Ruby said, blinking and swallowing. Daisy squeezed her hand encouragingly. This was so hard, ‘. . . so I’ve lost him completely, I can never get him back. But my daughter . . . she’s alive, and I realize that you’re only given so many chances in this world, and so I have to take this chance.’

  ‘You’re going to get in touch with her then? Tell her all this?’ asked Daisy, holding tight to Ruby’s trembling hand.

  Ruby was breathing hard. She felt like she’d run a mile. Her whole body was shaking now, and she felt sick again.

  ‘Daisy,’ she said unsteadily, ‘I am telling her all this. Right now.’

  117

  ‘What?’ Daisy was staring at Ruby. Her fingers, which had been stroking Ruby’s hand on the table, suddenly froze.

  ‘Daisy . . . it’s true. I’m telling her now. I had twins. You had twins. They run in families. They run in our family. Daisy . . . darling Daisy. You’re my daughter.’

  Daisy could only stare. What the hell was Ruby talking about?

  ‘Is this . . .’ Daisy was shaking her head, her mouth twisting up in a grim semblance of a smile . . . ‘What is this, some sort of sick joke?’

  Ruby bit her lip. ‘No. It’s not a joke. It’s the truth.’

  Daisy looked down at her hand. Quickly, she withdrew it.

  ‘Wait a minute,’ she said, clutching at her head now, her eyes fixed on Ruby as if she’d suddenly gone crazy. ‘Now wait,’ she almost shouted. ‘This is crap, right?’

  ‘No. This is the truth.’

  ‘It can’t be the truth. God’s sake, look at you. Look at me.’

  ‘Is everything all right here, ladies?’ asked the waiter, coming over, alerted by raised voices and the curious glances of other diners.

  ‘Everything’s fine,’ said Ruby firmly.

  He went away again, but he didn’t look convinced.

  ‘Look, Daisy . . .’ started Ruby, leaning closer, lowering her voice.

  ‘No! No, you look.’ Daisy didn’t bother lowering hers. ‘This isn’t possible. Ma never liked you and now I can see why, it’s because you’re a liar!’

  ‘Daisy!’

  ‘No, come on. You can’t be serious. You’re dark-skinned, you’re what my sainted mother would call “a bit of a mixture”.’

  ‘Or “having a touch of the tar brush”?’ offered Ruby. She could see that nothing she said was going to lessen Daisy’s fury. Better to let her get it all out, what the hell. ‘Daisy, listen to me. My white mother had an affair with a black jazz player, and she had me. So yes, I’m “a bit of a mixture”. And I . . . I’m sorry, Daisy, but I had an affair with your father.’

  ‘My God,’ wailed Daisy.

  ‘At first I didn’t know he was married,’ said Ruby quickly, afraid Daisy might just bolt and not hear this. ‘He didn’t tell me. Then, when I became pregnant – God, Daisy, you have no idea what it was like for me. People didn’t have illegitimate children then. It just wasn’t done.’

  Daisy was shaking her head steadily, like a metronome. ‘This is all lies. Why are you doing this?’

  ‘Why would I do it, Daisy?’ asked Ruby intently. ‘Why would I hurt you? I have no reason to. I’ve bottled this up for so long, but now I have to tell you the truth, and I just have to hope that, sooner or later, you’ll accept it. You’re my daughter. I’m your mother. Your true mother, your birth mother. Not Vanessa.’

  Now Ruby was reaching for her bag, groping inside. She pulled out a polythene bag containing a brown-coloured card oblong. With shaking fingers she pulled the thing out and handed it to Daisy.

  ‘Look, Daisy,’ she said urgently. ‘Look at the photo. That’s your grandmother – my mother. See how much she looks like you?’

  Daisy gulped and opened the folder. Inside was a picture of her. Only it wasn’t. It was old. Sepia-tinted. It wasn’t her at all, but somehow Ruby had mocked this thing up. Got a picture of her and made it look like something taken during the war.

  Daisy threw the folder onto the table and surged to her feet.

  ‘This is mad,’ she said loudly. ‘You’re crazy.I’m not listening to this any more.’

  ‘Daisy . . .’ Ruby stood up too, hating the pain and confusion on Daisy’s face, hating the fact that she had caused it.

  ‘No, don’t say another word,’ Daisy said, and spun on her heel and almost ran from the restaurant.

  118

  He was waiting for her out on the House of Commons terrace, as arranged. Daisy hurried over to where he sat, watching tourists crowding avidly onto the riverboat down on the riverside for a trip along the Thames. There was an open bottle of chilled Chablis, one of mineral water and two glasses in front of him.

  ‘Daisy!’ Cornelius stood up, hugged her.

  Daisy stiffened, didn’t hug her father back. He felt her pull away, and stepped back a little, looking down at her curiously. ‘What is it, darling?You sounded odd on the phone. Has something upset you? Is it Simon? Are the babies ill?’

  Daisy shook her head and sat down. All she had told her father on the phone was that she had to see him, and he’d invited her here, for drinks. She’d phoned home, too, alerting the nanny to the fact that she expected to be late back.

  ‘No, everyone’s fine.’ She sat down and looked across the table at him. He poured the water out for her and she took a hasty gulp. Shivered slightly. There was a cool breeze coming off the river, and the drink was cold too. She felt chilled, right through.

  She couldn’t stop staring at him. Her father. He was still a big, imposing man, suntanned and with that striking thick thatch of silver hair and those wide, seemingly guileless blue eyes. If what Ruby had said was true – which of course it wasn’t – then he’d seduced Ruby, lied to her, deceived Vanessa. Daisy had always felt that deep down her father was an upright man, a man of principle. But . . . was he?

  ‘So what’s the matter?’

  Daisy just sat there, wondering where the hell to start.

  Had he lied to Ruby, lied to Vanessa, lived with those lies for years by not telling her the truth about her birth? He was a politician. Ruthlessness ran through his veins. But not with his family, surely? But then . . . look at how briskly he had arranged for Simon to come back into her life. She knew he had paid Simon to take her on. She knew that. Knew everyone thought she was a screwball and so a sweetener would be in order.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Cornelius again, feeling slightly unnerved by Daisy’s unblinking stare.

  ‘I had lunch with Ruby Darke today,’ said Daisy at last.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Ruby Darke, the owner of the department stores?’

  ‘Oh? Yes, I’ve heard of her.’

  ‘She’s . . .’ Daisy took another swallow of water to moisten her parched mouth . . . ‘Pa, she said you had an affair with her.’

  ‘She said what?’ Cornelius let out a bark of laughter.

  ‘An affair. That’s what she said.’

  ‘And when was this supposed to have happened?’

  ‘During the war.’

  ‘The woman’s a fantasist,’ said Cornelius.

  ‘She said she had two children by you. Twins. There was a boy that her brother got rid of. He was dark-skinned, she said. You didn’t want him. And there was me.’ Daisy’s eyes were frantic. ‘She said that mother couldn’t have children of her own, that you all agreed that you would take me and raise me. And that’s what you did.’

  ‘Daisy . . .’

  ‘Is it true?’ Daisy asked, tears springing into her eyes.

  ‘Of course it isn’t true,’ said Cornelius earnestly. ‘This Darke woman, from what I’ve seen of her, she’s half-caste . . .’

  ‘Don’t call her that, it sounds horrible.’

  ‘But
how could you possibly be her daughter? Look at you. You’re pale, you’re blonde; you’re the image of me.’ Cornelius reached out a hand to touch her, but Daisy flinched back.

  ‘She told me that could happen with mixed-race parents. One twin nearly black, the other white. And I know that’s true. I’ve heard of it.’

  ‘Daisy. Darling. What are you saying? This is all nonsense.’

  ‘Why would she tell me, if it’s not true?’

  ‘God, I don’t know. I know Vanessa doesn’t much care for her and has left her off a guest list or two. Perhaps the feeling was mutual, perhaps this woman’s cooked all this up to spite her.’

  Daisy absorbed this. It sounded absurd. This was a monumental bombshell to drop on anyone, over a mere social snub. She thought back to all the times she’d been with Ruby. Ruby cleaning her up after that scare she’d had with Kit; Ruby going to the gatehouse with her, but being noticeably reluctant to go up to the house. Vanessa’s stone-cold reaction to her. Daisy stared at her father. A politician, a practised liar. Her face grew very still.

  ‘It’s true, isn’t it?’ she said at last.

  ‘Daisy, no.’

  ‘Only it sort of makes sense. A lot of other things, little things, they all seem to add up now. And – oh God, yes – Aunt Ju telling mother to shut up after I got drunk and misbehaved at my deb’s dance; she said something about “bad blood” and I never knew what she meant, it’s puzzled me for years. This is what she was talking about. The fact that I’m not her child. That I’m Ruby’s.’

  ‘Daisy, darling, I promise you . . .’

  But Daisy was standing up, staring down at him as if she’d never seen him before.

  ‘Don’t bother,’ she said, and left him sitting there.

  The moment Daisy left, Cornelius surged to his feet. He felt almost dizzy with rage that this was all blowing up in his face when he had tried so hard to suppress it. It seemed to him grossly unfair – unbelievably unfair – that a simple mistake made when he had been young and foolish should still have the power to disrupt his life.

  He had a good life. A beautiful home, a wife who was always there. He could please himself, see to his own desires exactly as he wanted. But this . . . this woman continued to be a thorn in his side. If people knew about this, then his reputation would be damaged and his standing, his career, could be compromised. And he couldn’t allow that to happen.

  He left the House and went out into the road to flag down a taxi. He got in, gave the name of the place, and sat there, seeing nothing, as the cab wove through the traffic. That bitch had ignored the warning, and now things would have to get really dirty.

  He got out when he reached his destination, paid the driver and went into the club. Tito was there, sitting on one of the stools at the bar. His ice-blue eyes widened when he saw Cornelius coming in, looking distraught.

  ‘Trouble?’ he asked.

  Cornelius nodded, still so furious he could barely utter a word.

  ‘Take a seat,’ smiled Tito, patting a stool. ‘Tell me about it.’

  119

  Daisy got down to Brayfield late in the evening, and charged into the drawing room where she found Vanessa watching television.

  ‘Daisy! Why didn’t you let me know you were coming?’ she said, smiling, starting to get to her feet.

  ‘No, don’t get up.’ Pale and drawn-looking, Daisy hurled herself down onto the other sofa and stared across at her mother.

  Her mother.

  Daisy felt like her whole world had shifted, plunging her into hideous uncertainty. Everything she had once believed, all that she had lived by, was now called into question.

  ‘I had lunch with Ruby Darke today,’ she said.

  ‘Oh.’ Vanessa’s face seemed to freeze.

  ‘You don’t like her. I could see it when I brought her here.’

  Vanessa gave a slight shrug. ‘She just doesn’t seem our sort of person, that’s all.’

  ‘Is that the only reason you don’t like her?’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean. I barely know her.’

  ‘You know her well enough to take her child off her, apparently,’ said Daisy.

  ‘I . . . what did you say?’

  ‘Ruby told me all about it. About her wartime affair with Pa, and that you couldn’t have a child of your own and so you took hers. Me. I’m her daughter, not yours.’

  ‘Daisy, this is ridiculous. I hope you haven’t been troubling your father with this rubbish?’

  ‘Oh, God forbid I should trouble anyone. I’ve only just learned I’m a bastard, born out of wedlock. And that I had a brother, a twin, but you didn’t want him, did you? Because he was dark-skinned, like Ruby. The pair of you wanted a white baby. Someone you could easily pass off as your own.’ Daisy’s eyes bored fiercely into Vanessa’s. ‘Well, aren’t you going to say anything?’

  Vanessa swallowed and looked away from Daisy. ‘Your father denied all this, of course,’ she said stiffly. ‘Didn’t he? Just as I do.’

  ‘He denied everything.’ Daisy’s eyes were sparkling with tears and malice. ‘But d’you know the funny thing, the one person who seems to radiate truth is Ruby. Not Pa. Not you.’

  Vanessa looked back at her. ‘Daisy. This is all nonsense.’

  ‘That’s what he said, too. I didn’t believe him. And I don’t believe you.’

  ‘I have no idea why she’s trying to stir up trouble like this . . .’ started Vanessa.

  ‘Did you have a script? Have you been looking at it together, the pair of you?’ Daisy gave a sour laugh. ‘That’s what he said too. That it was just Ruby being bitchy because you’d forgotten to invite her into the inner circle along with all those dried-up harpies you fundraise with. Well I don’t believe Ruby’s that shallow, and furthermore I don’t believe she’d give a fuck about your meetings and your charitable functions and all that crap anyway.’

  ‘Daisy . . .’ Vanessa was squirming in her seat.

  Daisy pulled her hands through her hair. ‘Did he phone you, is that it? Has he pre-warned you about this?’

  ‘I haven’t spoken to your father since last weekend.’

  Daisy dropped her hands, her face naked with hurt and bewilderment. ‘For God’s sake,’ she said, starting to cry. ‘Won’t one of you at least have the decency, after all this time, to admit to the truth?’

  Vanessa stood up, her face cold.

  ‘Daisy,’ she said firmly, ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Fine,’ snapped Daisy, jumping up. ‘You won’t admit it. OK. But I don’t want to see either of you any more. And I don’t want you near the children.’

  ‘Daisy!’

  ‘And I don’t want you near me.’

  Daisy drove around after she left Brayfield, aimlessly, not knowing where to go or what to do. She ended up in London, at Michael Ward’s restaurant, where she found Kit at the bar.

  ‘Oh, it’s you,’ he said. ‘Thought you’d left the country or something.’

  He hadn’t seen her for ages. He’d heard she’d got married, had a couple of kids. She’d dropped out of the London scene, and he hadn’t expected to see her again. Now, here she was. And the last thing he needed right now was Daisy.

  It had been a hard day, he’d received some bad news. He’d been visiting Jennifer on and off for a long time now, taking her little presents, chatting to her; but today, when he’d gone out to High Firs to see her and take her some new pens, she was nowhere to be found. Her room was empty, the bed stripped. He’d found the manageress, and asked her what was going on.

  ‘Jennifer Phelps?’ The manageress was shaking her head. ‘I’m terribly sorry, she died last night. Went peacefully in her sleep, bless her.’

  He left the home, still clutching the pens he’d bought for her, feeling bereft. They hadn’t been close, of course – he rarely got close to anyone – but he’d enjoyed her company, dotty as she was, and he knew she enjoyed his. Now the poor old duck was gone, and he felt sad about it, sadder
than he would have expected.

  Added to that, he’d been doing the rounds for Michael this afternoon, getting on with business, and that fat fuck Tito had cruised by with some of his boys, and Tito had grinned at him, mocking the fact that Kit couldn’t do what he wanted to do, and smash the bastard’s greasy face to a pulp.

  He wanted – so badly – to do something about Tito. But Michael had said no; that they did business together, that it was impossible.

  So tonight he didn’t want to hear about anyone else’s troubles; he had enough of his own. But Daisy looked like she’d been knocked sideways by something. He sighed. ‘All right, come on, what’s up?’ he asked.

  ‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘Get me a glass of wine, will you?’

  Kit summoned the barman.

  ‘Shit! No. I can’t drink, give me an orange juice.’

  The barman popped open a bottle of Britvic and decanted it into a glass. Daisy snatched it up and drank it, straight down. Then she turned and looked at Kit. She had to talk to someone about this, she had to.

  ‘Ruby told me something today,’ she said.

  ‘Oh yeah? What?’

  ‘She says I’m her daughter.’ It poured out of Daisy then, the whole sorry tale. That Ruby had given birth to illegitimate twins, and Daisy had been taken by Cornelius and Vanessa, but the boy had been – apparently – passed on elsewhere.

  ‘Right,’ said Kit, draining the last of his pint as he listened to all this.

  ‘What?’ she asked, looking at his face. ‘You don’t seem very surprised.’

  ‘That’s because I’m not. I tried to trace that boy. Ruby’s son. She told me you were her daughter. The twin of this boy I was looking for.’

  Daisy stared at him. ‘You knew, and you didn’t tell me?’

  ‘It wasn’t my place to tell you.’

  Daisy nodded her head, bit her lip. ‘It’s so awful. She said he died in a fire.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Daisy,’ said Kit. ‘It’s true. He was taken to a children’s home, but it burned down. He’s dead and gone.’