Abandoned Love

by Rosie Houghton

  “No no problem. I just wanted to forewarn you that I didn’t tell the children’s officer in this case about Mrs Bangerter’s involvement. I said a friend of mine who has since died, put me in contact with you. You don’t mind do you? I’d hate to see her get in to trouble.”

  “No I wouldn’t want her to get into trouble either.” She paused. Marjorie could hear a child running about in the background.

  “I suppose you’ve also rung me about the consent forms that you want me to sign?”

  “Yes.”

  “Listen, I will do everything I can do to help, but I’m a bit tied up with job interviews at the moment as I need to get a job.”

  Marjorie felt she didn’t seem to grab the urgency of the situation or maybe she was having second thoughts. It was one thing to agree to an adoption in a letter. Marjorie knew the birth mother had the right to change her mind right up to when the adoption order was made.

  “What job interviews are you going for tomorrow?”

  “Well I am going back to do an interview at Harrods where I’ve worked before.”

  “Can’t you go to the Court first, as it’s not far from where you are staying?”

  “I have to get a job Marjorie,” she said slightly irritably. “I’ll miss the interview if I go to Court first.”

  Marjorie didn’t receive a further phone call from her for about a week. She wondered if she was now having second thoughts about the adoption. Her lawyer said he hadn’t heard anything.

  She did ring eventually to confirm that she had started a job at Harrods, but had decided to leave as the pay was lousy. She was starting a new job in a pub in Knightsbridge on the Monday and had got the morning off on the Wednesday, so would go and sign the papers at Barnet then and ring afterwards. She said she had left her sister’s. Marjorie asked where she was staying now and she confirmed that she was staying at a hotel in Paddington, although she was still looking for a flat.

  She rang the following Wednesday.

  “Hi Marjorie, Miriam here. I have been to Court to sign the papers, but the birth certificate wasn’t there.”

  “But if the birth certificate wasn’t there, then the consent is not valid.” She could hear herself wail.

  “It’s not my problem the lawyer didn’t sort it out!”

  Marjorie put the phone down and waited for the children’s officer to call. She said she was going to see Miriam that evening and she just prayed that this mess would be sorted out then. She made herself a strong black coffee to steady her nerves and took out a chocolate digestive biscuit from the tin. Sure enough the phone rang an hour later.

  “Hello Marjorie, it’s Mrs Barnet here. I had Miss Sullivan-Cody here about half an hour ago. She apologized for the trouble she has caused. I think we had a good interview.”

  What did that mean she thought to herself, bearing in mind Mrs Barnet’s views on adoption?

  “ Miriam has given me her sister’s addresses. She says she still hasn’t received a letter from the Court asking her if she would like to attend, and I’ve told her I’ll get the Court to send her one.”

  “If Miriam has signed the papers and given her consent, then surely she doesn’t have the right to turn up at Court at the last minute and oppose it?” Marjorie said.

  She was terrified that she would see Rosie and want her back. She hadn’t exactly been forthcoming in signing the consent form.

  “Miriam is still a very confused lady. She is entitled to turn up at court and give her side of the story. I doubt she will oppose it, but most people like to think they can.”

  At the end of the week Marjorie received notification from Barnet County court that the hearing would be on 8th January 1970 at 10.30 am.

  The Children’s officer came to see her about a week before the case came up.

  “I’ve had a meeting with Miriam. She was a little tearful, I’m afraid. She can’t get over the fact that the father isn’t interested in either her or the baby. She said he paid for all the expenses at the time of the birth and that was that. She wants to know whether the Consent form is necessary for the adoption?”

  “She’s not going to oppose it is she?”

  “I don’t know Marjorie. She talked a lot about Rosie’s father, the fact that he was interested in the theatre and making money. I told her the consent form was not necessary for the adoption but obviously it would help. She decided to give me her parent’s address.”

  “Why? She has always told me that her parents are never to be contacted!”

  “She seemed worried about what would happen to Rosie, if you died.”

  “But I’ve told her that I’ve made arrangements for that.”

  “Yes she knows, but she felt it would be an extra safeguard, if I knew how to get in contact with her. I probably won’t know if you die, but rest assured, I think Miriam is more taken up with her emotions at the moment.”

  Marjorie hoped these emotions weren’t for Rosie.

  When the hearing date finally came on the 8th January, Marjorie made her way to Barnet County Court in the freezing cold with Rosie wrapped up in a warm, smart red woollen coat, with gloves and scarf to match. She did not see the woman standing across the road looking at her dressed forlornly in black beneath a bus shelter. Little did she know this was Miriam longing to see Rosie’s face and touch her baby. Tears were coursing down her face.

  As she got to the Courthouse her lawyer was already standing at the entrance. He ushered her inside and guided her to the board with the Court Circular on it.

  “It looks as if we are in Court 4 today which is the fourth along on the ground floor. Do you fancy grabbing a cup of tea first? We are still waiting for the children’s officer to arrive?”

  “Do you think it will be alright this time?”

  “I see no reason why not. I don’t see any sign of the mother, yet.”

  The children’s officer, Mrs Barnet arrived whilst they were drinking their cups of tea and they all agreed it was time to go in front of the Judge. They approached the usher who ushered them into Court 4 before Judge Grant.

  “All rise”

  His Lordship entered and everyone in the room bowed. There were two barristers in gowns and wigs sitting in front of them, one represented by the local authority and one instructed by her solicitor, called Mr Bentham QC.

  “If it please your Lordship.”

  “Can we dispense with the formalities my good counsel. We have a child present, who unless her intention is to become a lawyer will not benefit from such theatre.” said the Judge dismissively.

  “ My Lord since we were last before you, significant and I might say fruitful attempts have been made in this case, to locate the birth mother. Your Lordship may recall that when we were last before your Lordship, you were satisfied with the care Rosie was receiving in this case, but nevertheless, the mother should be informed of Mrs Ronson’s change in circumstances.”

  “Yes.”

  “I am happy to report my Lord that the mother has agreed to an adoption in the form of a letter to the applicant. May I refer your lordship to exhibit A of the applicant’s affidavit.”

  “Yes, I have it here in front of me.”

  “My lord, the birth mother did also attempt to lodge the consent form at the Court but unfortunately the Court had not retained a copy of the birth certificate.”

  “A case of pilot error, I take it?”

  “Yes my Lord.”

  “Has the mother been invited to make an appearance today, Mr Bentham.”

  “Yes she has, my Lord and as you can see she has not shown to appear.”

  “Very well.”

  The judge asked the lawyer if everything had been tied up and he said it had. He then turned to Marjorie and said.

  “I’m sure you will cope single-handed, manfully, that’s the wrong word, but if you need help at any time you will ask ?”

  “I will,” she said. But she didn’t need anyone’s help or anyone interfering. She wanted to move on. She had had
enough of that from the children’s officer.

  “And you must not look upon her as compensation for your own loss. That must be a temptation sometimes, but you must let her have her freedom.”

  “Of course I will.”

  “And you have friends?”

  She said she had. He turned to the children’s officer and asked if she was satisfied with everything and she said she was. Marjorie was relieved.

  The Judge handed a tin of sweets across, lovely big wrapped chocolates. The children’s officer told Marjorie to take two. Rosie chewed one and Marjorie put the other in her pocket.

  “Mrs Ronson, having considered all the evidence before me, and the mother’s acceptance of the situation, I am prepared to agree to the adoption.”

  Oh My God, Marjorie couldn’t believe it. All this time she thought the odds had been stacked against her, that she might lose the only precious thing she had left which was Rosie. Even then she couldn’t quite believe it that Miriam hadn’t turned up at the last minute. The Judge got up and came down towards Rosie.

  “What lovely pink cheeks she’s got, have you been pinching them to make them pink?”

  “They are always like that.” Marjorie said proudly.

  “You’re a lovely little girl.”

  He then bent down and held out his hand to her. She put hers in his and he held it a few seconds, looking at her and she smiled up at him and wrinkled her nose. He said again.

  “You are a lovely little girl.”

  Then he said to Marjorie.

  “She’ll bring you much joy.”

  He turned to the children’s officer and said.

  “You’re still looking for a new children’s officer aren’t you?”

  “Yes we are.” She said.

  “I might apply you know.” He said grinning.

  “We’re looking for someone really first class.”

  “Oh I’d better not apply then.” He beamed.

  They then went outside and Marjorie’s lawyer remarked on what a human judge he was. She didn’t notice that the lady in black had now disappeared, unable to cope with the trauma of never seeing her little girl again. Now she had to move on with her life as Rosie had to move on with hers with Marjorie.

  ROSIE 1970s

  LONDON

  ROSIE REMEMBERED BEING left at the gates on her first day at school. She was clutching this letter that her adoptive mother had given her in her hand on a small piece paper.

  My Dear Rosie

  I am writing this in case I die when you are still little, before I have been able to tell you how I came to adopt you.

  When Daddy and I married it was a second marriage for both of us. We had each been married to someone else, and those marriages ended in divorce. I had no children in my first marriage, but daddy had two sons, Michael and John. Daddy and I met some years after our first marriages ended, and fell in love, and we were married on 11th July 1966, when I was 44 and Daddy was 53. We longed for a baby, but we did not have one. Forty is rather late for a woman to have her first baby. So we decided to adopt one. When we applied to several Adoption Societies they would not accept us, because they have so many people wanting babies they will not consider anyone over 40.

  Then I met your mother whose name is Miriam Sullivan-Cody, through a friend of mine. Miriam had been very friendly for a year or so with your father whose name is Leonard Jackson. She hoped they would marry, but this did not happen, so she had no home for you, and would have to work to earn money. She thought it over very carefully, and decided it would be better for you to be adopted by someone who wanted a baby very much, and could provide you with a real home. So, when you were a tiny baby you came to us, and we loved you as our very own. Daddy often gave you your bottle and your feeds, and I am enclosing a photo of you with him when you were about two months old and one with me. We took them on a bright sunny November morning. We planned to look after you for some months and then apply to adopt you. In the meantime you thrived and we were all very happy.

  Then on a Monday morning, 15th January 1968, Daddy had a heart attack at the office. He was rushed to Barts Hospital. Gran came to stay with me to look after you while I went to see him each day. He slowly recovered, and was allowed out of bed a bit longer each day, and one day Gran and I took you to see him at the hospital. On Sunday 28th January he got worse and had another heart attack, and he died in the evening of Monday 29th January.

  It was tragic, and I won’t try to describe it to you. After some weeks I went to daddy’s solicitor to ask how I could adopt you. He told me to wait until 18 months old, and then apply. This I did. We contacted your mother, and she gave her consent and I finally adopted you on 8th January 1970. The adoption was granted at Barnet County Court by Judge Grant, who was kind and gave you two big chocolates.

  I shall now tell you all I can about your original parents. I met Miriam Sullivan-Cody and liked her. She was tall, slim with black hair and brown eyes. Her parent’s home was Cork, and her mother was Irish, her father English and she had several brothers and sisters. She was at the time a Dress Designer. She told me that Leonard Jackson was British/South African, born in England and brought up in South Africa. He was tall, blond and blue eyed. He was a Company Director in Dublin and came to London quite often. He was a keen businessman and fond of the theatre.

  I am typing this because ink might fade. I am leaving it in safe keeping with Mr R.M. Ritchie of Trower Still & Keeling, 5 New Square, Lincoln’s Inn London WC2. He is my solicitor and if when you are older you want advice about your affairs, I’m sure he would help you.

  I have appointed Gran and Aunty Joy to be your guardians and left some money to pay for what you will need until you are grown up. I hope darling that you will settle and be happy and make the most of your life.

  Marjorie

  “Enjoy your first day at school darling.”

  She shuffled off to the classroom, which was full of rows of small wooden desks. She found herself a table and sat down. Gradually the other pupils began to arrive. Some emptied the contents of their satchels out onto the tables. She tucked away the letter in her pocket. The teacher walked into the classroom. She was wearing a light green shift dress with a matching cardigan. Her blonde hair was held back by a green grip.

  “Now children, settle down.”

  They all sat down and gazed at this woman in authority. Her desk was larger than the others, with a small bunch of peonies, in a vase on the left. Behind her hung a huge large blackboard with some sums on it.

  “My name is Miss Price and I am going to be your Form teacher for Year One.”

  Being her first day of school, she was slightly nervous like the rest of the pupils. She shifted about in her seat, which was a little uncomfortable. She laid her ruler and pencils on the groove in front of her.

  “I would like you as your first exercise today, to draw a picture of your family. You can include pets if you like.”

  The teacher handed out some pieces of paper and gave them some colouring crayons. The light shone through the classroom windows, casting a shadow over the piano in the corner.

  Panic started to rise up in her throat. She hastily looked round the classroom to see if anyone had noticed her reaction. Her palms felt all clammy. She had no one to draw but her adoptive mother, and by judging from the other mothers she’d seen dropping off the other kids, a mother that was considerably older than the other mothers. Now she’d found out she’d got two mothers. She couldn’t out of love for her adoptive mother admit she wasn’t her real mother. She constantly reminded Rosie that she was even more loved than most children because she had chosen her. She was so confused. Why had her mother chosen to tell her on her first day of school that she was adopted? It didn’t make any sense. How could she fit in with these children who came from proper families? The tears just started welling up and streaming down her face.

  “Whatever is the matter Rosie?” the teacher asked bending over her to place a hand on her shoulder.

>   She started heaving. The other pupils couldn’t stop staring. They didn’t know what to make of her sudden outburst and most of them held their pencils in mid flow waiting for Miss Price to bark her next orders.

  “Let me take you over to the corner by the piano. We can talk more privately there.”

  She pushed the chair backwards and tentatively walked towards the piano. The teacher came over and gave her a small hug. She never had that sort of hug at home, she thought.

  “Now tell me what’s upsetting you?”

  She couldn’t blurt out what was really upsetting her. The words just wouldn’t come out. She hadn’t had time to sort it out in her own mind yet, how she had started out as a one parent family when most had two, to now, a two mother one.

  “My daddy died when I was a baby.”

  She didn’t really have a concept of death at that age she just knew it made her adoptive mother unhappy that her father had died, except as it transpired, he wasn’t her father either.

  “Oh I am so sorry. How insensitive of me. Here’s a tissue to wipe your eyes with.”

  She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. She couldn’t tell her what she really wanted to tell her, that her mummy wasn’t her real mummy, that even at a young age she had realized she didn’t have anything in common with her. Not only did she not look like her, she didn’t feel like her.

  “How about I have a quiet word with mummy when she picks you up from school?”

  Oh no she thought. She wasn’t sure she was ready for her to announce to the world that she was adopted. They never spoke about it in public.

  “I don’t want to upset mummy.”

  The teacher told Rosie to calm down. She could feel the other children watching her, slightly bewildered by the whole incident.

  “I suggest you stay here by the piano, while the others continue. Perhaps you would like to sort out the building blocks in the play box for when you start to feel better.”

  She sat down on the floor and began to assemble the wooden bricks together. What a mess she had made of her first day at school and what would her mother say? All she knew is that she wished she came from a normal family like all the other children in her class.