by Lynda Paige
She paused again to wipe her wet face with the back of her hand before she went on, ‘I can’t believe now that all the time my mother was telling me my baby was dead, the new parents must have been downstairs getting my baby ready to take home with them.’ She then furiously blurted, ‘How could any woman who calls herself a mother tell her own daughter such wicked lies, deceive her so despicably, and all because she was worried about what people would say if she had a daughter who’d had an illegitimate baby? My mother deserves to rot in hell for what she has done to me… to all three of us. Denying us being together for her own selfish reasons. My father, too.’
She paused yet again to take breath for a moment whilst she tried to compose herself and, once she had, she went on, ‘By the time the fair came back to town, of course I hadn’t seen you for a year, Solly, and I didn’t know whether you still felt the same about me. As it was, my mother found out when the fair was due to arrive and made sure that I wouldn’t get to come and see you, if that’s what I intended to do. For the whole week it was there she arranged for me to be picked up from school and I would be locked in my room for the rest of the night. She excused what she was doing by telling me it was for my own good. It never entered her head that there was a drainpipe outside my bedroom window with thick ivy growing next to it which I could use to make my escape. If there hadn’t, I would still have gotten out somehow, as I was determined to see you, Solly. Thankfully Mother was out most nights attending some council or her women’s group meetings, my father was always locked in his study working and, once I knew Mother had left the house, I would shimmy down the pipe and make sure I was back in my room before she got home.
‘I was terrified the first time I came to see you, Solly. I didn’t know what to expect after us not having set eyes on each other for a year but as soon as we saw each other we fell into each other’s arms. It was obvious our feelings for each other hadn’t changed one little bit, if anything had grown stronger. I was so deliriously happy. I meant to tell you about the baby, had it all planned what I was going to say to break it to you as gently as I could, but just when I was about to it struck me just what pain this would cause you, to know that I had gone through all that and you not there to help me through it. The pain of losing a child is like no other pain. It never leaves you either. You just learn how to live with it. You are constantly wondering what life would have been like had the child lived, what they would have looked like, been like as a person. I didn’t want you suffering that pain every second of your life like I was, Solly. Not when I was suffering enough for us both. So that’s why I never told you.’ She lifted her head and looked over at him then before she remorsefully uttered, ‘I just hope you can forgive me.’
She waited for a sign from him that he did but she couldn’t see his face as he was sitting with his head bowed now, shoulders slumped. It was plain for her to see that this revelation, that he had a daughter he’d known nothing about, was difficult to come to terms with. So she turned her attentions to their daughter then, who had sat in stony silence all through Gem’s story and implored her, ‘You were not thrown away like rubbish. I might have been young but I would have given up everything to be your mother. Solly, I know, would have too. We would have raised three children together, not two, but because of my mother we never got the chance. I know you don’t know me, but I swear on my life that every word I have told you has been the truth.’
The young girl looked blankly at her for what seemed like an age before she said quietly, ‘I do believe you.’
Gem then looked again at her husband for any sign that he did too but he was still sitting, head bowed, slumped forward like he was frozen in time.
At her daughter’s confirmation that she believed her story, Gem’s whole body sagged in relief. Again an overwhelming need to throw herself on her daughter and hug her, proclaim her love for her, flooded her being, but Gem sensed that she was far from ready at this moment for such an intimate display of affection from her and so instead she quietly asked her, ‘Have you had a good life? What were your parents like? Your name? We don’t know your name!’
She took a deep breath before she responded. ‘Jennifer. Jenny. Yes, I have had a good life. My parents were good people. I couldn’t have wished for better. I was their only child. They were both very loving and kind. There was always lots of laughter. My father worked in a busy newsagent’s, well, he managed it really as the owner had several shops and wasn’t around very often. My mother helped in the shop when she wasn’t busy looking after us. I did too, when I was old enough. I used to love weighing out sweets on a Saturday morning to the queue of kids that came into the shop with their pocket money. We weren’t well-off, as such, but we lived in a nice flat about the shop and my parents did their best to make sure I wanted for nothing. My father died ten years ago. Suddenly, it was. Natural causes. He’d been in two wars fighting for his country and had worked long hours in the shop, sometimes sixteen a day, and the doctor’s opinion was that it had all taken its toll on him. He was only fifty-two. I was fourteen at the time. It was a bad time for me and Mum. But we got through it together. Of course that meant a new manager for the shop and Mum and me had to leave the flat.
‘Mum found a little two-up, two-down terrace that she could afford on her wage from a job she got herself as a factory machinist. It wasn’t in the best of areas but Mum made it homely for us both. When I left school, I went to work in the office as a junior in the factory Mum worked in. I went to night school to learn shorthand and typing and worked my way up to be the factory manager’s secretary.
‘I had no idea I was adopted until just before my mother died three months ago. She was ill for about a year before she died. Stomach cancer. I nursed her as best I could. It broke my heart to watch this once big, jolly woman slowly waste away to skin and bone. She was only days away from dying when I was sitting by her bed reading to her one night and she suddenly took my hand and said she had something to tell me. It was something she should have a long time ago but it was just that the time had never seemed right. If she didn’t do it now, she might never get the chance. That’s when I found out I was adopted. Both my parents had dearly wanted children but after years of trying and nothing happening they decided to adopt. By that time, though, they were both coming up for forty and were told they were too old. They were devastated and resigned themselves to the fact that they would never have children but then my mother heard about private adoption. After making a lot of enquiries, she found a woman who arranged them. I assumed money was involved but my mother never mentioned that. She went to see the woman and, to her pure joy, the woman told my mother she would put her on her list.
‘She said the wait for the summons from Mrs Lovitt… that was the name of the woman arranging the adoption… to tell them she had a baby for them seemed like an eternity. They had made a nursery for the baby and each night my mum would go in there and sit in the rocking chair imagining cuddling her baby in her arms and how this baby was going to complete their lives. She told me that the moment I was put in her arms she felt an overwhelming love for me as much as she would have done if she had given birth to me herself. My father felt the same too.
‘They were both so grateful to the woman who had given this precious gift to them they asked if it was possible they could pay a visit to her, who they knew was upstairs in the house, to thank her, assure her that they would be good parents to me. They were told that wasn’t possible but the message would be passed on. She then told me that all she was told of my mother was that she was an unmarried woman and it wasn’t possible for her to raise her child. They did manage to find out something else though. While they were preparing to leave for home with me, Mrs Lovitt left the room for a moment to deal with the mother of the woman who had just given birth to me; she’d come down to ask for a pot of tea. Mrs Lovitt forgot to shut the door properly so they could hear her and the other woman talking. Mrs Lovitt addressed the other woman as Mrs Garvey and Mrs Garvey was telling
Mrs Lovitt that she wanted her to pack up her daughter’s belongings for her as quick as she could as she didn’t want to miss the train back to Harrogate. Mrs Lovitt told her that her daughter should at least be allowed to rest until tomorrow, but Mrs Garvey was insistent that she was well enough to travel. Mrs Lovitt then asked her if she wanted her to include the baby clothes that Gemma had made for the baby but the answer was no as they wanted no reminders at all of it. So all she could tell me about the woman that gave birth to me was that her name was Gemma Garvey and that she came from Harrogate, but at least I knew something.’
Her face scowled darkly then. ‘To find out after twenty-two years that the woman I believed was my mother wasn’t, that some other woman had given birth to me who didn’t want me, wanted no reminder of me at all, knocked the stuffing out of me. I felt like all my life had been one big lie. I wasn’t who I thought I was. I desperately wanted to find this woman who had given me away and tell her what I thought of her for what she had done. But then the woman who had raised me, who I dearly loved, was dying and out of respect for her I put this all to the back of my mind and concentrated on making her remaining days as comfortable as I could for her. A week later she died.’
Gem was feeling acutely jealous, furious and cheated that another woman and man had nurtured and raised her daughter when it should have been her and Solly. But at least the people who had raised their daughter had been been good to her, given her the best life they could. That was something indeed to be thankful for.
‘Once the funeral was over, I was determined to find out what I could about my real mother. I didn’t want anything from her, nothing at all to do with her in fact, but I did need to know why she gave me up. I know she wasn’t married and it would have been a struggle but other unmarried mothers keep their children, so why didn’t she me? At least try before she gave me away. If her mother could pay for her to be cared for by a woman while she was pregnant and to arrange my adoption, then she wasn’t from a poor family so she surely could have afforded to keep me. I wanted to look her in the eye and hear from her own mouth her excuses and then have the pleasure of telling her what I thought of her.
‘At work we have telephone directories for every town we do business with and one was for Harrogate. I borrowed it to take home with me. I had realised that my mother was probably married by now and would have changed her name, but I thought it worth a try. There were a few other Garveys listed with different first initials but there were five with the first initial of G so I thought they might be worth a try first as one of them might be Gemma or, if not those, one might be a relative. Next day I called them from work when my boss was out of the office. The first four I called, one didn’t answer but the other three were single men.
‘The fifth call though was answered by the wife of a Mr George Garvey but again they didn’t have a daughter called Gemma. As I was just about to tell her I was sorry to have bothered her, she told me to hold on a moment as although they weren’t the Garveys I was looking for, her husband did have a second cousin; Wilfred Garvey. The cousins had never been close, moved in different circles in fact. Wilfred had his own successful business and her own husband was just a factory worker. His cousins were the sort of people who thought themselves too good to mix with sorts they felt below their station, relations or not. But if she remembered correctly, Wilfred had a daughter called Gemma or it could have been Gina or Jasmine, she wasn’t sure, but felt it was worth me enquiring. She told me she believed they lived in a big house and the name of the road she thought it was on, then wished me well in finding my old school friend after having lost touch with her, as that was what I’d told her was my reason for telephoning. I immediately looked in the telephone directory for Wilfred Garvey or W. Garvey but there wasn’t any listed. I called Directory Enquiries but was told that number was ex-directory so they wouldn’t give it to me. The only thing I could do to find out if they were the Garveys I was looking for was to go and visit them in person. I had the name of the road they lived on, so finding which house they lived in shouldn’t be difficult.’
She paused for a moment as her face darkened angrily. ‘I couldn’t believe how nice the house was. It was huge, at least four bedrooms I guessed, and had a big garage at the side for two cars at least. There was a short drive leading up to the house and the garden was immaculate, not a blade of grass out of place. An old man was working in it. I asked him if I had the right house for a Mr and Mrs Garvey and he told me I had and that Mr Garvey was out but Mrs Garvey was in.
‘I was expecting a really old lady to answer the door considering she had a twenty-two-year-old granddaughter, so was shocked that she could only have been in her late fifties. I didn’t think it was my grandmother at first until I told her I was looking for a Mrs Garvey and she told me that she was Mrs Garvey. She was very polite to me at first. I think she thought I was collecting for the church bazaar or something. As soon as I told her who I was and that I believed that her daughter Gemma could be my mother, her whole manner changed and she looked at me like I was something she would scrape off her shoe. She poked me hard in my shoulder and told me that she’d made it clear when I was adopted that the family wanted nothing to do with me ever and to remove myself from her premises and never come back. She told if that if I didn’t, she would call the police and have me arrested for harassing her. She then slammed the door on me. So that was it. That nasty woman left me in no doubt that I was never going to find out why my mother had given me away. And her my grandmother too. I was devastated.
‘As I was walking back down the street, though, I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was the man I’d seen working in the garden. He looked a little jumpy, said he needed to be quick for fear of Mrs Garvey seeing him. He went on to say that he couldn’t help but overhear our conversation and felt it was shameful the way Mrs Garvey had spoken to me. He had worked for the Garveys for over thirty years keeping up their garden and seeing to odd jobs around the house. He had known Gemma. He said she was a nice girl; always stopped and had a chat with him when she came home from school if he was working in the garden even though he knew her mother had warned her not to fraternise with the staff. When she was about fifteen though, she suddenly left home. He’d no idea why as the family were very tight-lipped on the matter. He had seen her again though, quite a few times in fact and very recently too. He’d never approached her in case Mrs Garvey got to find out and sacked him.
‘The first time he’d seen Gemma was when the fair came, about a year after she’d left home. She was taking the money for one of the kiddies’ rides. Every year since he had seen her, working on different rides each time. He and his wife always took their children to the fair, then the grandchildren. He noticed she was wearing a wedding ring and the next time he saw her she was pregnant. He didn’t see her for a couple of years after that but the next time he did, she was pregnant again and had a little boy with her. I asked if he knew the name of the travelling fair and he told me it was Grundy’s. The fair wasn’t due there for another couple of months for their annual visit but he felt sure that if I made enquiries I would find out were they were just now. I thanked him for his trouble and the information he’d given me and told him that that’s what I’d do. I’d ring all the councils and find out where the fair was. After a few calls that’s how I found out it was in Barnsley. But after what the gardener had told me, I was furious. What kind of woman would hand over her baby, then give up the good life she had to go and live in squalor with gypsies, marry one and then have more children. She must be a monster. Certainly had no conscience anyway.’
‘But now you know different, that I’m not a monster?’
Jenny looked at her for a moment before slowly nodding her head. ‘Yes… yes, I do.’ Then, to Gem’s shock, she jumped up. ‘I have to go.’
Gem jumped up too, imploring her, ‘No, no, please, you can’t leave yet. We have so much to talk about. You have two brothers to—’
She raised her hands in warning for Gem
to stop. ‘I need time to get used to all this. You have to realise I came here hating you, expecting to find… well, as I said, a monster. I was ready to rip into you and make you feel guilty for what you’d done; if ever I could make a woman like I thought you were feel guilty that was. Now to find out that it was my grandmother that’s responsible…’
Her voice trailed off and she spun on her heel. Before Gem could stop her, she had run out of the van.
Gem made to chase after her but thought better of it. Her daughter had told her she needed time to get her thoughts around what she had learned today and Gem should honour her wish. She sank back down in the chair, buried her head in her hands and the tears came then; great fat ones of sorrow, loss and despair, but intermingled were those of joy to have discovered that her child had not died at birth after all but was alive and well. She felt an arm around her shoulder and lifted her tear-stained face to see Solly perched on the arm of the chair looking sadly down on her. ‘Do you think she’ll come back?’ she uttered chokingly to him.
‘Once she’s come to terms with all this, hopefully she will. We need time too, Gem, to digest this. When I got up this morning I was the father of two sons but, hours later, I now find I have a daughter as well. Three children I have, not two. Same for you too.’ He heaved a deep sigh. ‘I am angry with you, Gem, for not telling me about this. I understand why you didn’t, I do really, you were only trying to protect me. Even so, I had a right to know. It’s killing me to know that you’ve been mourning the loss of our child by yourself when I should have been able to comfort you.’