by Linda Green
* * *
It was nearly time for Bob. I’d miss him, when he finally decided to stop coming. He was like a faithful Labrador lying at your feet: dependable, reliable, easy to please. The ideal start to a Monday morning, really.
I poked my head round the door to invite him in. It wasn’t Bob, though. It was Jayne. She looked different from the last time I’d seen her. Her face was bordering on gaunt. The shadows under her eyes were darker and deeper.
‘Hello, Jayne,’ I said.
‘I hope you don’t mind me coming,’ she said. ‘Bob said you wouldn’t.’
‘Of course I don’t. It’s lovely to see you. Please, come through.’
She picked up her handbag and walked past me into the room. She smelt of Yardley perfume and sadness. She took a seat, the handbag perched on her knees. Seemingly glad of the handles to hang on to.
‘So, how are you?’ I said.
‘I won’t beat about the bush,’ she replied. ‘There’s no point, because Bob will have told you, anyway. I haven’t been good and that’s why I’m here.’
‘He’s been ever so concerned about you.’
‘I know. He’s a good man. I’m lucky to have him, really. Never thought I’d end up with someone like him.’
‘Why not?’
‘Too good for me, really. Way too good.’
I decided to let it go for now. ‘Anyway, I hear congratulations are in order. Bob told me you’re going to be a grandma.’
Jayne nodded. ‘Yes, that’s right. Cassie’s due in February. February, of all months.’ She fiddled with the handles of her bag. I wasn’t sure what she was getting at.
‘Bob said you’d been finding it difficult.’
She nodded again, still not making eye contact.
‘That you weren’t planning to go over for the birth.’
‘No. I don’t think I’d be much help, really. Don’t want to get under her feet.’
We both knew that wasn’t the real reason. I let her settle herself for a moment before continuing.
‘I’m not going to put any pressure on you, Jayne, but I know you came here today for a reason and I want to spend as much time as I can helping you, rather than keeping up the pretence.’
Jayne looked up at me. I could see her hands were shaking.
‘I want to tell you,’ she said, ‘but it’s harder than I thought.’
‘I understand. I assure you you’ll feel better, though, once you’ve shared it.’
Jayne sat for a moment, twiddled with the handles, adjusted her glasses.
‘If I went over for the birth,’ she said. ‘I would see that baby coming into the world, and I would have its tiny hand grip my finger and I would hold it and I would cuddle it and kiss it. But very soon, far too soon, I would have to leave it, say goodbye and come away. And I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t bear to do that again.’
She opened her handbag and started rummaging around for a tissue. I took one from the box on the table and handed it to her. I pulled my chair up next to hers so I could sit holding her hand.
‘Cassie wasn’t your first child, was she?’
Jayne shook her head. A strangled noise, something between a whimper and a sob, came from inside her.
‘Please tell me what happened, Jayne. I won’t judge and I won’t tell anyone outside this room, if you don’t want me to, OK?’
She nodded. ‘I were sixteen,’ she said. ‘Sweet sixteen, supposedly. I worked in an office. Doing a bit of typing and filing and that. I were a pretty little thing, everyone said. It were nice to have that said about you. I didn’t let it go to my head, though. And I didn’t do anything to give him the wrong idea. At least, I don’t think I did.’
‘Who was this, Jayne?’
‘Robert, my sister’s husband. They’d only been married a couple of years. They had a baby, Julie, she were called, after Julie Christie. Pretty little dot, she were too, I were right proud to be her auntie.
‘I’d just babysat for them while they’d been to pictures. First time they’d been out together since the birth. Good as gold she were, just started crying a few minutes before they got back. I had a bottle ready so my sister took her straight upstairs to feed her and change her and that was when he did it. Forced himself on me, like.’
I felt Jayne’s hand tighten her grip on mine.
‘What did you do?’
‘Nothing. I didn’t really understand what were happening at first. And by the time I did, it were too late. I couldn’t get a sound out, I were too shocked.’
‘What happened afterwards?’
‘He didn’t say owt. Just zipped himself up and took me back home in his car. Told me that if I said a word to anyone, he’d tell them I’d come on to him. That I’d been asking for it. I made a mess in his car, of course. Because, well, you know, it were first time and that. I crept indoors and went straight up to my room and took off my dress, put it in a bag with my undies. It all went in dustbin next morning.’
‘You didn’t tell anyone? Not even your mum?’
‘No. I felt so ashamed. Like it must have been my fault. I didn’t say a word. And then, of course, my period didn’t come, or the one after. I didn’t realise straight away. I mean, nobody talked about that sort of thing in those days, not around where we lived, anyway. But then I started feeling sick when I woke up every morning, and that were when I knew.’
‘So what did you do?’
‘Nothing. I didn’t know what to do at first so I didn’t say owt. But then I went downstairs for breakfast one morning and I were physically sick in kitchen, right in front of my mum. I had to tell her. I told her it were Robert and what happened. She said I were making it up, that I’d got myself in trouble and I were a dirty little girl and I’d have to get rid of it.
‘I couldn’t, mind. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. She booked me into a clinic. Told my father we were going away for a couple of days, some sort of shopping trip. So the night before, I packed a few bits and pieces. And first thing in morning I crept out of the house and caught a bus down to train station. I got on a train to Leeds and when I got there the next train out were to Manchester, so I got on that. I panicked a bit when we got past Bradford, mind. I’d never been outside of Yorkshire before. So I got off at Halifax instead.’
I realised it was me holding Jayne’s hand tighter this time. Too tight. I loosened my grip slightly. All the time trying to remember how old Jayne had said she was.
‘Where did you go?’
‘I went straight to the council and got a flat. You could do, in those days. I got a job too, a few days later. Doing some secretarial work for an accountant. Nice chap, he was, must have been near retirement age.’
‘And what about when you started to show?’
‘He didn’t say a word. Too much of a gentleman. I’m sure he didn’t approve, but main thing was he didn’t fire me. I told him I were going to stay with an auntie in Scarborough for the birth. He gave me an extra pound in my pay packet the week I left.’
‘And then what?’
‘I stayed in my flat and waited mostly. Kept myself to myself, as they say. There were one nosey woman, so I told her the same story. Just to stop people asking questions, like.’
‘So you were on your own for the birth?’
Jayne nodded. ‘When the time came, I put the radio on to cover up any noise I might make. It were the hardest bit, trying to keep quiet through it all. And then he came, just before midnight, just when I thought I wasn’t going to be able to do it on my own.’
‘A boy?’ My voice was breaking slightly as I asked.
‘Yes. I always thought it would be a boy. I remember picking him up off the bed, wrapping him in towel. I couldn’t quite believe he were real. I sat there holding him until the placenta came out. That were more of a shock than the baby, to be honest. I cut the cord with my kitchen scissors and flushed it down toilet, didn’t know what else to do with it. He were so good, though. I did a bottle for him, it were the only
thing I’d got in ready, and he drank it and went to sleep in my arms. He didn’t cry or owt. It were almost as if he knew. I just lay there with him, looking at his little face while he slept, too scared to sleep, just waiting for the sun to come up.’
‘And then what?’
‘I put a nappy on him. Wrapped him up in a blanket to keep him nice and warm. My case were all packed ready. I put the towels in a brown paper sack. I’d stripped the bed first so sheets didn’t get spoilt. I were all paid up with my rent, so I just left key on kitchen table, put the sack in the dustbin on the way out and went.’
For a second I wasn’t sure. Maybe I’d got it wrong.
‘You left the baby there?’
‘Oh no,’ said Jayne. ‘I wouldn’t have done that. They’d have traced me, see. And he might not have been found for hours. No, I took him with me, like I’d planned. It wasn’t easy, carrying him and the case. We didn’t have those slings they have now in those days. I actually carried him in a shopping bag, so no one would see. He were fine, quite happy in there he were. And then, when I got there, I just popped him on doorstep, making sure he were under cover in case it started raining. And that were it. I couldn’t stop, because they were going to be opening at eight thirty. So I just had to turn and walk away, crying my heart out as I went.’
She was crying again now. She dabbed at the corners of her eyes with the scrunched-up tissue in her other hand.
‘Where did you leave him, Jayne?’ I asked, barely able to get the words out.
‘Outside a doctor’s surgery,’ she said.
I nodded and gulped. I couldn’t hold the tears back, though. Not any longer.
‘I walked straight to train station afterwards,’ she said. ‘Let the wind dry my eyes on the way. I got a single ticket to Leeds, thought I could lose myself there in the big city, see.’
‘And how long ago was this?’ I asked. Just to be sure, quite sure, about it.
‘The fifteenth of February 1969. I’ve never forgotten. I couldn’t if I wanted to. Not with him being a Valentine’s baby. Every year it gets worse as soon as I see the cards in the shops.’
‘That day you didn’t come,’ I said. ‘When Bob said you’d locked yourself in the toilet.’
Jayne nodded. ‘It were worse than ever this year, what with Cassie having gone too. I just couldn’t bear it.
‘I don’t even have a photo of him to remember him by. The only thing I’ve got is this.’ She opened her handbag and took out a tiny clear plastic case and handed it to me. ‘He had all this lovely dark hair, see. I snipped a little bit off before I left the flat. It’s all I’ve got left of him.’
I looked down at the case in my trembling hand. Inside was a lock of dark, curly hair.
Chris’s hair.
It happened on Christmas Eve.
I was doing Santa’s sacks for the children, trying to be as quiet as I could. And he walked past the plate they’d left out for Santa and stopped and stared at me and asked why there was a biscuit instead of a mince pie. And I had to tell him that they’d sold out in Lidl and I didn’t have time to go anywhere else.
He picked up the vegetable knife – the one I’d used to cut the carrot in two, because it was a big one and Maisie had been worried that Rudolph wouldn’t have been able to manage it whole – and he stabbed me with it in the hand. The blood was oozing out everywhere, it looked like I’d been nailed to the cross, and I looked at him and I realised for the first time that I meant nothing to him, absolutely nothing. Not compared to a mince pie.
29
I sat in the car at the end of the morning’s sessions, still trying to take it all in. I had found Chris’s mother. Without even looking. I hadn’t told her, of course. I would need to seek some professional supervision before working out what to do there. It wasn’t something they tended to cover in general training, discovering that one of your clients was actually your mother-in-law. I’d checked her date of birth on the file as soon as she’d left. It all fitted. There was no room left for any doubt.
Jayne had gone home to tell Bob. Said she thought she could do it, now she’d told the story once. She’d made an appointment for them to come back later in the week. Which just left me. Wondering if I should tell my husband.
We hadn’t talked about whether he’d want to meet her if he could. There’d been no point. Until now, that was. I felt like a gatecrasher at a family gathering. It seemed so unfair, that I should get to meet her first, even if it was accidental. But I knew that, if I was going to tell him, there was one other person I should tell first.
And also, something I wanted to do. Something which I didn’t think Barbara or Chris had ever done.
* * *
Barbara was in the garden when I got there. On her knees, digging with her trowel in amongst the rose bushes. She looked up and waved at me, her hands caked with earth. All I could think was that Jayne would never do that. Jayne was definitely a gardening gloves and hoe kind of person.
‘Hello, love,’ she said. ‘This is a nice surprise. Everything OK?’
I’d become used to the question over the past few months. A coded way of asking if there was any news without having to state what the news might be about.
‘Everything’s fine,’ I said. ‘I could do with a cup of tea and a chat, though.’
Barbara nodded, put down her trowel and stood up.
I followed her into the house and waited until we were sitting in the front room, two cups of tea and a plate of rich tea biscuits on the table between us, before saying anything.
‘There’s a couple in their sixties I’ve been counselling for a while,’ I said. ‘They’ve both recently retired and their daughter’s emigrated to Australia. The husband thought it was empty nest syndrome making his wife sad. Anyway, it turned out it wasn’t that at all.’
Barbara nodded. She knew I didn’t usually talk about my clients, but she clearly had no idea where this was going.
‘The lady told me this morning that she’d got pregnant when she was sixteen. That she had the baby on her own in secret and left him outside a doctor’s surgery. In Halifax.’
Barbara put her hand to her mouth.
‘It’s definitely her,’ I said. ‘The dates check out and everything. Chris was actually born on Valentine’s Day, just before midnight. She didn’t have a photo or anything but she did have a lock of his hair.’
‘Good grief,’ said Barbara. ‘After all this time.’
I nodded. ‘I know. It was quite a shock. I didn’t tell her, obviously. And I haven’t spoken to Chris yet, either.’
Barbara looked at me, uncertainty written across her face. ‘Are you going to tell him?’
‘I don’t know. I think I should. There’ve been too many secrets in our family. But I didn’t want to do it without speaking to you first.’
‘It doesn’t matter what I think.’
‘Of course it does. You’re his mother.’
‘She’s his mother.’
‘No. She’s just the woman who gave birth to him.’
Barbara gave a little smile. ‘Well, for what it’s worth, I think he has the right to know.’
I looked down at my hands. ‘There is one other thing. Something which makes it more difficult.’
I saw her face tense, her hands clench in her lap. I wished I could find a nicer way to say it but there wasn’t one.
‘The lady, Jayne, her name is, she told me how she got pregnant. It was her brother-in-law. He raped her.’
Barbara’s eyes screwed up tight. I went across and sat down on the carpet next to her, rubbing her arm. When she finally opened her eyes, a solitary tear ran down her cheek.
‘I always wondered,’ she said. ‘I mean, I hoped it were just a lass who’d got into trouble with her boyfriend or summat. But I always knew it could be worse. Ken told me not to think about it. You can’t help yourself, though.’
‘I just don’t know how Chris would take it,’ I said. ‘It’s such a horrible thing to hear.’
‘It is,’ she said. ‘But not knowing how you came into the world must be pretty horrible too.’
I nodded. ‘You’re right. I’ll tell him tonight.’
Barbara looked at me. ‘Give him a hug from me, love, will you? I know it’s daft, but he’s still my little boy.’
* * *
I watched Chris playing with Matilda after her bath. Some daft game of theirs which involved a towel monster and the dreaded comb. He was making an effort, a real effort, I knew that. Because the gaping hole inside didn’t heal over like the one in an earlobe which no longer sported an earring. This one was raw. You could still cut yourself on the edges, it was so sharp. And however much you smiled on the outside, it didn’t numb the pain within.
He still had a smile on his face when he came downstairs from reading to her.
‘What?’ I said.
‘She was doing Miss Root’s voice in Demon Dentist. Scary. Very scary.’
‘You know the boy’s dad dies at the end, don’t you?’
‘I thought you didn’t skip ahead? You always used to say you hated people doing that.’
‘I know. Sometimes you have to, though. So you can help someone else to prepare for what’s to come.’
Chris sat down opposite me at the kitchen table. The smile had disappeared from his face.
‘It’s nothing about Josh,’ I said, knowing what he was thinking. ‘It’s about you.’
He frowned at me.
‘I need you to know that I didn’t go digging for information. This isn’t a case of me meddling or anything like that. It was pure chance, really. Although, I suppose, in my line of work the chances are slightly higher than they’d be for most people.’
‘Are you going to tell me what you’re talking about?’ asked Chris.
‘One of my clients shared a secret with me today. The thing that’s been eating away at her for years. Only it turns out it’s the same thing that’s been eating away at you.’
Chris was frowning at me now.
I reached out and held his hand. ‘She abandoned her baby when she was sixteen,’ I said. ‘Outside a doctor’s surgery in Halifax. On February the fifteenth 1969.’