by Rebecca Pugh
‘Who is it, Felicity?’ a melodic voice called from further in the apartment. Jessica stared down the hallway, immediately wanting to know where the voice had come from. Was it Helen Parker who she’d heard? If so, was her birth mother hidden away in one of the rooms at the end of the hall? She could barely contain her nerves. She twisted her hands.
‘You have a visitor, madam.’ The woman, Felicity, who seemed to be some sort of maid or cleaner, threw a curious look Jessica’s way before beckoning for her to follow. They walked up a darkened hallway, Jessica taking everything in as she followed, etching the details into her memory, until Felicity turned right and disappeared through a doorway. Taking a deep breath, she entered and was almost blinded from the sunlight streaming into the room through the windows. Squinting, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the brightness, but once they had, her eyes located Helen Parker immediately.
She was sitting primly in a high-backed chair beside an untidy desk, directly in front of the windows. The sun was blazing onto her face, highlighting every inch of it, allowing Jessica a perfect first impression. Helen, apparently unconcerned by her visitor, was still focusing intently on the book in her hands. Instantly, a flutter of interest in the book that Helen was reading rose up in Jessica’s chest. She couldn’t help it. Was reading something that they had in common? How bizarre. She glanced at Felicity uncertainly, unsure of what to do or say to catch Helen’s attention, until finally, she slipped a bookmark onto the page and closed the paperback in her lap.
Helen turned her eyes to her visitor for the first time. Jessica watched as, like Felicity, her eyes seemed to linger on Jessica’s face for longer than she felt necessary. But she was sure, as they watched each other, that her own eyes were intrigued in quite the same way. It was like looking into a mirror. She was certain that she was looking at an older version of herself. It was the weirdest thing that she had ever experienced in her life.
Felicity cleared her throat before scurrying off and leaving them alone. She must have sensed something big was taking place between the two women who looked incredibly similar. Jessica remained silent. Helen was the first to speak. ‘Hello, Jessica.’
The air seemed to still around them. Helen Parker knew who she was. And she, Jessica, had found her birth mother. It all felt a little strange and surreal to be standing there, right in front of her, face to face. This woman who, just days ago, had meant nothing to Jessica, suddenly seemed like the most important person in the world. After all, she was the only one who had the answers to Jessica’s questions. She was the one who had brought Jessica into the world twenty-eight years ago. This woman had given Jessica life.
‘Hello, Helen Parker.’ The corner of Jessica’s mouth lifted slightly as she said the words, hardly daring to believe that she was saying them at all. ‘You know who I am?’ she asked quietly. She was slightly surprised by this, but at the same time, pleased. It meant a lot to know that Helen had guessed who she was without Jessica even having to say anything. It meant that Helen recognised her, knew her face. Perhaps she’d been expecting this visit from her long-lost daughter all along.
Helen smiled in exactly the same way as her daughter. ‘But of course I do. I know what my daughter looks like, even after all this time. I did give birth to you.’ Helen removed the paperback from her lap, placed it on the desk and rose from the seat with a small smile on her face. ‘Come. Let’s sit.’ She waved her hand towards the other side of the room, where a deep red chaise longue sat regally, flanked by two comfy looking armchairs which were clearly from a different set of furniture entirely. One was navy blue, the other, emerald green. Both were full off cushions and had blankets draped across the back of them. The room wasn’t exactly untidy, but it wasn’t impeccably clean either. Just the way she liked it, Jessica thought.
Jessica settled down into one of the armchairs comfortably and watched as Helen took the chaise, crossing her legs and resting her hands in her lap.
‘You look like me,’ Helen commented quietly. ‘It’s all rather strange, to see you now, all grown up, when the last time I saw you, you were just a little girl.’ She cleared her throat of the emotion but it was too late. Jessica had already detected it, but she didn’t mind. It was an emotional meeting. She hadn’t expected any less, from Helen or from herself.
Jessica swallowed down the lump in her throat, only for it to return moments later. ‘I was only a little girl?’
Helen nodded and looked down at her lap sadly. ‘Yes. That’s right.’
‘Madam, shall I bring you some coffee?’ Felicity’s head popped around the doorframe. Helen nodded.
Jessica, eyes glued to Helen’s face, couldn’t stop the carousel of questions spinning round and around in her mind. She wanted to ask so much, find out everything that there was to know, but she wanted to see what Helen had to say first. Felicity entered the room and placed a silver tea tray down onto the low coffee table, just in front of the chaise. Helen nodded her thanks.
‘So, tell me how you learnt about me, Jessica.’
‘I found the postcards,’ she replied, taking a teacup from Helen’s hand. ‘In the back of a photo album.’ Then she remembered. Did Helen know that her sister had passed away? Would anyone have told her? ‘Do you know about them?’ Jessica asked curiously.
‘I do,’ she said quietly. ‘I was told about their death by an old friend. I was unable to make it back for the funeral, sadly.’
Jessica nodded slowly. ‘They left me Bluebell House. I’ve spent the last couple of weeks in Bluebell Hill, sorting through the rooms. I’m getting ready to sell it.’
Helen glanced up with interest. ‘You’re selling it? Bluebell House?’
Jessica was taken aback by the intensity in Helen’s eyes. ‘Yes, I’m selling it. It doesn’t belong to me, never has and never will.’ She sipped on the dark coffee. ‘It could never be my home.’ She cleared her throat and sat up a little straighter. ‘I have questions, Helen. Questions that I believe only you can answer. Do you mind if I ask them?’
Helen’s eyes softened as she studied her face. ‘Of course I don’t mind. I knew you’d have questions. Anybody in your position would have.’
‘Start from the beginning,’ Jessica said, crossing her legs. ‘I want to hear it all.’
***
‘I fell in love,’ Helen began with a roll of her eyes. ‘Stupid, I know. He was never going to take anything between us seriously, your father that is. He was too fond of women to ever stick with just the one. When I found that I was pregnant with you, I didn’t tell him. I realise now that that wasn’t my decision to make, but once he’d moved onto his next piece of skirt, I couldn’t bear to share anything else of mine with him. It was selfish of me, but I’d already given him so much of myself, I couldn’t give him you, too. I adored him, but the feeling wasn’t mutual. Late into the pregnancy, I heard through the grapevine that he’d managed to knock some other girl up. Well, that was enough to make my decision. Plus, apparently he was besotted with this girl, and he couldn’t wait to have their child.’
Jessica watched as Helen’s throat constricted from an emotional swallow.
‘Once you were born, any thoughts of your father left me completely. I was over the moon with you, Jessica. You were the best thing that had ever happened to me. We lived in a flat above a newsagents. It wasn’t pretty, let me tell you. In fact, thinking back to it now, I feel ashamed about ever thinking it was right for us. It was dingy, small, and the smell from the takeaway next door to the newsagents used to float up and stink the place out. At the time, I thought it was better than nothing. I was working part time in a corner shop, taking you into work with me and keeping you behind the counter in your baby seat. I had to earn money somehow, and there was no one to look after you. My own mother and I never got along. My father was an alcoholic. It really was just me and you against the world.’
Jessica, lost in her imagination, seeing the whole sorry thing playing out in her mind, realised Helen had stopped
talking. ‘Me and you against the world?’ she asked, hearing the emotion thick in her voice.
Helen nodded. ‘Yes, me and you against the world.’ She shifted on the chaise and clasped her hands together in her lap before she carried on. ‘The problems began later on. I got poorly, Jessica. Mentally poorly, but I’m sure you know all about mental health problems as they’re spoken about much more openly these days. I’m still not entirely sure what it was that triggered them, if it was anything at all, but things began to go downhill. I began to miss your father severely. I found myself crying most nights. I couldn’t bring myself to eat. It was a mission just to get myself out of bed in the mornings, I rarely got dressed. I began to miss shifts at work, until my boss eventually let me go.’ A look of shame flickered across her expression. ‘You began to suffer from it. We barely left the flat, and the one time we did, I left you.’
Jessica frowned. ‘What do you mean you left me?’
Helen sniffed and it was then that Jessica noticed the shiny trail that the tears had left behind as they ran down Helen’s cheeks. ‘I left you alone. I took you to the park. You needed fresh air. I put you in the swings, pushed you, made you laugh, and for some reason, I began to walk away from you. There was no one else in the park. Just me and you. I walked out of the gate and kept going.’ Helen inhaled shakily and shook her head. ‘Of course, I only got so far. My instincts kicked in and I rushed back to you and cradled you against me while I cried. I couldn’t control myself. It was as if I’d been a different person for those moments when I walked away from you. And anything could have happened,’ she cried, pulling a tissue from out of her cardigan pocket. ‘Someone could have snatched you up, anything could have happened to you while my back had been turned, and it would have been my fault. It doesn’t even bare thinking about.’
Jessica was reeling. Although sat completely still in the chair, the world around her felt like it was spinning wildly. She gripped onto the armrests, could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and tried to imagine how much of a bad place her mother must have been in, to have left her child alone in the park and walked away. She noticed Helen watching her and shook her head helplessly. ‘I don’t know what to say.’ It came out as a whisper. ‘Couldn’t anybody help you?’
Helen stared straight ahead. ‘I had no one, Jessica. No one, except Miriam.’
Chapter Fifteen
Miriam. Helen’s sister. The woman who had taken her in and then hired Esme to take care of her. ‘I was wondering where Miriam came into it,’ Jessica murmured. ‘How did I end up at Bluebell House?’
Helen stood then, twisting the piece of tissue around her fingers, and walked slowly towards the window. She paused once she was in front of it. ‘Miriam and I may have been sisters but we were so very different from each other. Miriam was older than me by three years, therefore she thought she had some God-given right to tell me what to do and how to do it. You should have seen her face when I told her that I was pregnant.’ Helen laughed but it held no mirth. ‘I’d already moved out by that point to that seedy little flat, and Miriam had moved out a couple of years before, with the man she’d married. She couldn’t stand the sight of me. You see, Miriam had this determined streak in her. She wanted to do well in life. She was very materialistic, and of course, to be materialistic, she needed money. So, she trained as a surgeon, got her degrees, studied hard, and I’ll admit, she came out on top. She was also very selfish though, which is a trait I’ve always detested, but made her the perfect match for her husband, your uncle.’
Jessica pursed her lips. ‘I see.’
Helen turned back from the window to face her. ‘When things got too much, and because I was incredibly desperate for help, I had no choice but to get in touch with Miriam. Trust me, it was not an easy decision to make. She’d moved away by that point, to Bluebell Hill, and your uncle, after being left a ton of money in his father’s will, purchased Bluebell House for them to live in. They had no desire to bring up a family in the house. It was more of a show-home for them, nice to look at and impressive without a doubt. When I called her, she was appalled. She’d detached herself from our family as soon as she’d been able to, so hearing from me wasn’t exactly something she’d been hoping for. When I told her my situation, she laughed. She told me that she’d always known I’d end up messing up my life. She found it funny that I was turning to her for help but, what surprised me most was that she didn’t immediately say no. She told me to go to Bluebell Hill, and she’d speak to me in person. So, that’s what I did.’
‘What did you think when you saw Bluebell House?’ Jessica asked with interest.
Helen smiled weakly. ‘I loved it. It was the perfect house to raise a family in. I have to admit, I was bitterly jealous that it belonged to Miriam and not me. I would have given anything to have lived there with you. On the day I arrived, with you in your pushchair, Miriam invited us inside. We sat in the posh lounge and drank tea from her expensive teacups. She told me that I looked awful, close to death, and I knew that I did. I’d lost a ridiculous amount of weight, I struggled to pick you up. I was pale, paranoid, and I wasn’t in the right mind to be responsible for you, Jessica. We lived in a horrible street, it wasn’t safe, and if I couldn’t even take care of myself then what good was I to you?’
Jessica’s lip trembled as she stared into the eyes of the woman who had given birth to her. The woman who had taken her home, wrapped in a blanket, and cuddled her through the night. Right up until things had gone wrong. Her eyes pooled with tears as she watched Helen return to the chaise and sit back down.
‘In the end, after I told Miriam everything, she agreed to take you from me. She told me she’d ensure you would have a good childhood, that you’d be taken care of and never want for anything. I believed her. After all, they had that big, old house and all of that money. I cannot begin to tell you how hard it was for me though, Jessica. To hand you over to Miriam? It didn’t just break my heart. It broke my soul. You were all I had that was good, but I needed to make sure you didn’t turn out the way that I did. You needed sunshine and cake and pretty dresses. You needed to be happy.’
‘I wasn’t happy,’ Jessica choked through her tears that were now escaping freely. ‘I wasn’t happy at all. They didn’t take care of me. They hired a nanny to do it instead. They were too busy working all the time. They were never around. Never.’ She wiped the wetness from her cheeks. ‘What happened after that?’
Helen sighed loudly. ‘I went back to the flat. I cried and cried and so many times, found myself hurrying to the station to get you back. But each time, I had to stop myself. What would bringing you back have achieved? Nothing, that’s what. I decided that I needed serious help and eventually found it. I was given medication, had regular check-ups, and gradually, over the years, began to recover. I never stopped thinking about you though, Jessica. I can assure you of that. You remained in my mind forever. I did hope that you’d find me one day, but it became something of a hopeful dream as the years passed by. I figured you were just enjoying life, and perhaps were completely unaware of my existence.’
Jessica leant down and rummaged in her back. ‘These led the way. Why did you send postcards without a message?’ She slid the small pile onto the glass-topped table towards Helen.
Helen, smiling fondly at the sight of them, leant forward and gathered them up. ‘Part of the deal of Miriam taking you was that I stayed away. She didn’t want someone like me barging into her perfectly made-up life. I decided, one day, that I’d send postcards. Only signed with the letter ‘H’. What harm could they have done? I’m surprised to find that she kept them actually,’ Helen commented as she shuffled through them.
‘And this,’ Jessica added, holding out the wristband.
‘Wow,’ Helen breathed as she took it from Jessica’s fingers. ‘It’s been a long time since I last saw this. I left that baby-box with Miriam when I dropped you off for the last time.’ The tears returned to Helen’s eyes. ‘I can’t believe it’s taken
you this long to find it.’
‘But didn’t you think that I’d find out once they’d passed away?’
Helen shrugged. ‘I had no idea. When I heard of their death, I immediately thought of you, but I suppose it was just a game of chance. You’d either find out about me, or you wouldn’t.’
Jessica closed her eyes and rubbed her face tiredly.
‘Can I make you some lunch?’ Helen asked quietly.
‘That would be lovely,’ Jessica replied. ‘I can feel a headache coming on. Probably because I’m hungry.’
Helen smiled and left the room.
***
A plateful of salmon and cucumber sandwiches and a cup of tea later, Jessica was leaving the apartment.
‘I’d like to see you again, Jessica.’ Helen lingered in the door. ‘We have a lot to catch up on, and I’d like to apologise for everything that happened. I know an apology most definitely won’t cut it, but I think we should at least try to make up for lost time.’
Jessica stared down the hallway. ‘Can I have your number?’
‘Of course.’ Helen disappeared into the apartment and returned seconds later. She handed over a piece of paper with her number scrawled on it. ‘Let me know. I would love to hear from you again.’
Tucking the number into her bag, Jessica glance up at her birth mother’s face. ‘Thank you.’ They remained standing there awkwardly, until Jessica said goodbye and hurried down the hallway. Despite having listened to Helen speak all afternoon, she still couldn’t quite believe that she had found her.
Back in the hotel, and with Sarah still not back, Jessica had a quick shower and tried to organise her thoughts about what had been revealed to her.
She felt terrible for all that her birth mother had been through. Mental health was a serious issue, and was nothing to be taken lightly. She had no experience of it herself, but from what Helen had told her, and from what she’d read and seen on documentaries, it was quite obviously a horrible, life-controlling issue. She couldn’t imagine Helen leaving her child alone on a park, couldn’t even begin to fathom how her birth mother had been feeling at that moment in time.