by Diana Finley
My need to know Shelley in every detail – what she looked like, how she spoke, what sort of person she was, and above all, how she had reacted to seeing Lucy for the first time – bordered on desperation. I drew every drip of information from them, almost as if I were a parched traveller lost in the desert, attempting to draw water from a dried-up well.
‘Was she very … upset?’
‘Well, first of all she checked the birthmark on my neck to make sure it really was me,’ Lucy told me.
I gasped in astonishment at this. ‘Really? Did she? So she did know! She had seen it,’ I mused. ‘Well … that was very sensible of her.’
‘Yes, and she had lots of questions. They just tumbled out of her, one after another. She was very emotional, as you might expect, but actually she appeared mostly really happy to see me.’
‘I see …’
‘She wanted to know,’ Lucy continued, ‘if you’d treated me well, if I’d had a happy childhood. That was what seemed to be most important to her.’
‘Oh? So … what did you tell her?’
‘What do you think? Of course I told her you’d treated me very well, that you’d loved and cared for me as if I was your own child …’
A heavy lump gathered in my chest, making breathing an effort. I scrabbled in my bag for a handkerchief and dabbed my eyes. Lucy paused; I looked at her, waiting for her to finish the sentence.
… and that, on the whole, I’d had a happy childhood.’
Oh, the relief. I released a long breath and shook my head. ‘She must have been very, very angry with me. I would have been, in her place. How she must hate me. The whole family of course, they must all despise me … and rightly so.’ I sighed and gazed out of the window, imagining their loathing.
‘She’ll have gone straight to the police after seeing you, I suppose, so I must expect to be arrested any time now.’
‘At first, I guess she must have thought she would tell the police, but I asked her – I begged her – not to, nor to make the information public in any way – at least, not at the moment.’
Lucy’s words struck me like the blow from a fist. I turned to look at her in shock.
‘Did you, dear?’ I tried to control my faltering voice.
‘Of course I did. Why does that surprise you? She was surprised, as you might expect. She found it hard to understand why I would ask it, but when I explained why I wanted her to keep it all quiet … when she heard how well you had looked after me … when I explained …’
‘Yes?’
‘When I explained how much I love you … well, in the end she agreed.’ Lucy paused reflectively. ‘I told her about your illness.’
‘I expect she was rather pleased to hear about that, and who would blame her?’ I said.
‘Actually, she wasn’t. I think Shelley is a very kind woman, a very … sensitive and generous woman.’
I fought my impulse to contradict Lucy’s view of this woman, whom I had despised and resented all those years.
‘Yes,’ I replied, ‘she does sound it. I had no idea.’
‘My eldest sister, Leanne,’ Lucy continued, ‘took a bit more persuading, but in the end she agreed too.’
‘Your … sister …?’ I could hardly speak the words; they seemed so unreal.
Guy had been sitting silently, watching and listening. Now he stood up and came to sit with me on the sofa.
‘Lucy has a whole family down there, Alison,’ he said quietly. ‘So far we’ve only met Shelley, Leanne and the youngest of Leanne’s three children, but there’s Dave, Leanne’s husband, and their older children too …’
Guy opened his notebook and glanced at it.
‘Sorry, it’s still hard to remember them all – it’s all so new. Yes, let’s see now … there’s Dean too, Lucy’s eldest brother, and all of his family. Then there’s Ashley. She has twin boys of seventeen. She works in a library apparently. Sean and Kelly – Shelley’s own twins – are next in age. Kelly works in human resources. She’s not married – quite a career woman by all accounts. Sean’s a paramedic. He’s married and has two children at school. Lastly there’s Ryan. You may remember – he’s nearest in age to Lucy – just two or three years older. He has his own successful plumbing and bathroom business. He’s married with one little girl of about two, and they’re trying for another baby.’
I was completely dumbstruck. I stared at Guy in amazement. How could it be true? I had always assumed they were just a hopeless, dysfunctional family. I stood up and started pacing back and forth. I covered my face with my hands and shook my head. I turned and looked at Lucy and Guy beseechingly.
‘What have I done? What have I done? I thought none of them would amount to anything. I thought Shelley was a dreadful failure of a mother; neglectful, stupid and selfish … but … she’s not, is she? She seems to have done very well. They all seem to have done rather well.’
Drained, I slumped down on the sofa again.
Lucy came over and sat on the floor in front of me. She put her lovely head on my lap. I stroked her hair. She looked up at me.
‘Assumed is the right word, Mum. You didn’t know them. How could you judge? They’re human beings, with the usual mixture of strengths and weaknesses. Flawed perhaps, just like the rest of us.’
Chapter Forty-Nine
Lucy
Back in Edinburgh, our lives were hectic on all fronts. Cassie and Ed were supportive to us both, as always. Cassie had begun working as a GP in a busy practice, but she and I managed to meet up for lunch or an early evening drink about once a fortnight. Ed, an engineer in the oil industry, spent regular periods away from home, so Cassie was often on her own.
Following his psychiatry training, Guy was working at the Royal Edinburgh Hospital. Somehow, through all the ups and downs of the last years, I had completed my PhD, and found a job working three days a week at a clinic supporting disturbed adolescents and their families.
With two reasonable salaries, even though mine was part-time, we had managed to buy a modest terraced house on the southern edge of Morningside. It had a sunny, narrow garden, which was my joy, and my haven.
We had planned a simple, small, civil marriage for the following May, with only closest family and friends present. However, now there was the added complication of exactly who constituted close family members. We decided to keep strictly to Guy’s parents and sisters, Alison, Cassie and Ed – and now of course, Shelley. How would my numerous “new” brothers and sisters, their partners and children react to Alison being included, while they were being excluded? The prospect of explaining the arrangements to both Alison and Shelley – who had not yet met of course – and to the wider family, drove me to near panic.
There was so much to think about, so many complications, that we decided to put the marriage plans on hold for the moment – to enjoy a couple of years of normality. How naive to imagine that were possible. There were further complications lurking in store for us.
Chapter Fifty
2007
My anxiety increased exponentially once more when we discovered, unexpectedly, that I was pregnant, the baby due in February the following year. Despite the shock, we rejoiced at the prospect of a child – our child. We invited Cassie and Ed round for supper to share our news with them. They were equally delighted. Cassie wrapped me in one of her bear hugs.
‘Lucy! Guy! That’s fantastic! Not that I’m totally surprised – I thought you were looking a bit podgier than usual lately, Lucy!’
‘Podgier! Do you mind …?!’
‘No, just a tiny bit. You must both be so excited. Wow, fancy you getting to the “parent stage” – I guess that means we must be grown-up now,’ said Cassie.
‘I’m not sure I feel grown-up enough. It feels pretty scary at the moment: the idea of being totally responsible for another human life.’
‘You’ll make a great mother, Lucy,’ said Ed, ‘and Dad here will be pretty good too.’
‘That’s what I keep telling her,’
said Guy.
‘You know, every time you two come to see us, I feel like we have momentous news to impart,’ I said.
‘Yes, you do. We’ll expect nothing less from you. No boring small talk, just earth-shattering revelations every time. So what’s next?’
‘Well I don’t know about earth-shattering, but I do have something else to raise with you.’
They all looked at me expectantly, including Guy.
‘I’ve been thinking about this since Guy and I met Shelley …’
Guy regarded me apprehensively. “Now what?” his eyes seemed to be asking.
‘Whatever it is, maybe you should talk to Guy about it first,’ said Cassie, her gaze flicking between the two of us. She was always sensitive to non-verbal cues and atmosphere.
‘I did mention this in front of Guy some time ago, so he does sort of know. The thing is, I’ve told both Alison and Shelley that I can’t call either of them “Mummy”, “Mum”, “Mam” or any other mother-specific name. To do so would risk upsetting one or other or both of them. Nor does it feel natural, or even possible for me, knowing everything I do now. I decided I can only call them by their first names. They didn’t like it, but they seem to have accepted it.
‘Well, that sounds reasonable. It makes sense,’ said Cassie. ‘I’m glad they’ve both accepted it.’
‘The thing is, I think the problem may extend to me too.’
‘What do you mean by that, Lucy? How does it extend to you?’ asked Ed.
‘Well, think about it. Alison thinks of me as Lucy. Shelley thinks of me as Stacy. It doesn’t feel fair to stick with either name – and somehow, I feel sort of detached from both of them now …’
‘So what do you want to do about it, sweetheart?’ asked Guy, his face a picture of anxiety.
‘I’ve been thinking maybe I need to choose a new name altogether.’
‘A new name? What a weird idea. Have you thought of one?’ asked Cassie.
‘Well, not exactly; it’s not very easy. First I wondered if I could combine Lucy and Stacy; you know, use the beginning of one name and the end of the other. But they both end with a “y”, so it doesn’t quite work. So then I looked at using the beginning of one name with the vowel of the other. But then you get either “Stucy”, which sounds ridiculous, or “Lacy”, which is equally weird, and vaguely reminds me of that 1980s American TV police drama!’
Everyone laughed at this.
‘So …?’
‘So, I thought maybe I had to come up with a completely new name.’
‘Go on then – what is it?’
‘I don’t know, I haven’t thought of one yet … I wondered if you might all help? You know, we could try sort of brainstorming …?’
Nobody spoke for a few moments. They all looked at me.
‘Oh God, it sounds ridiculous now … It is ridiculous, isn’t it?’
‘It’s not ridiculous, Lucy,’ Cassie said, ‘but how will you feel connected to a new name? How will we? How will any of us feel it’s you?’
‘Obviously it would take some time to get used to it,’ I said feebly.
‘I’m not sure,’ Guy said, frowning. ‘When your whole identity – and your concept of who you are – has been so deeply undermined by recent events, is it really a good idea to introduce a new name as well? Surely you’ve been Lucy for as long as you’ve been conscious of having a name. I think taking on a new one could be very disturbing.’
‘I agree,’ said Cassie. ‘I mean, I know we’ve talked about how you have to keep reinventing yourself as you go through life and take on new roles and responsibilities … We all have to do that, but adopting a new name at such an unsettled time seems a step too far. We all think you’re pretty fragile at the moment, Lucy.’
‘Thanks very much. Now you think I’m mad too.’
‘I said fragile, not mad. Of course you’re fragile after all you’ve been through – and are still going through. Anyone would be. Wasn’t it you who had a panic attack in the middle of Princes Street after you found out about your past? If that isn’t a sign of unbearable stress, I don’t know what is.’
‘OK, OK.’
‘Mmm,’ said Ed, who was always less ready to venture opinions in matters psychological. ‘I’m no expert in this sort of field, but it seems to me that what you need most at the moment, Lucy, is permanence, not more change.’
They were right of course, I could see that. In uncertain times, I was looking for certainty, but in the wrong direction.
That evening, I told Guy that I planned to write another letter to Inspector Dempster. I wanted to inform him of how things stood, but I needed to remain anonymous until it was time for the full truth to emerge. He agreed it would be helpful to share the situation with the man who knew more about my history than almost anyone else.
Chapter Fifty-One
There followed a period of relative calm, to everyone’s relief. Guy was kept busy with his work. I enjoyed combining my part-time work with some intensive home-making: painting and decorating our flat and making it ours, and our future child’s. Alison had been in remission again for an extended period. We alternated between visiting her in Newcastle, and seeing Shelley and my new-found family in Riddlesfield. It was a relief to have postponed our marriage plans for the time being – there was so much else to think about.
We all knew it couldn’t last. Everyone was waiting for the “next step”, and of course I was procrastinating as usual, hoping against hope that the problems would disappear if I ignored them. I knew I couldn’t expect my birth family to wait much longer. In the end it was events out of my control that took over. One grey, damp day in the autumn of 2007, Susan rang.
‘Lucy, you’d better come down. Alison’s back in hospital. I’m afraid she’s not well. The cancer’s spread.’
It was what I had dreaded. We went down to Newcastle for a dismal meeting with Alison and the oncologist the following day. Alison looked terrible: wan and exhausted. She was adamant she wanted no further chemotherapy. The specialist agreed it was a case of palliative treatment only, to control her pain as far as possible, and ensure some quality of life for the last few months.
The following day I composed a letter to Inspector Dempster:
October 2007
Dear Detective Inspector Dempster,
I wrote to you some years ago to tell you that I believed that I might be Stacy Watts. I didn’t feel sure, nor was I ready to admit it fully to myself at that time. Things have moved on since then. I now know for certain that I am Stacy. The woman who abducted me, and whom I have regarded as my mother throughout my childhood, has admitted everything to me. Although it was an abduction rather than an adoption, I shall refer to her as my “adoptive mother”, for the sake of clarity.
I know you have had ongoing contact with Shelley Watts and have provided her with some support. Following my adoptive mother’s admission, my partner and I went to Riddlesfield and found Shelley, my birth mother, and spoke to her and to my eldest sister. It was an understandably emotional reunion. I asked Shelley not to go to the police, nor even to tell you, which she had wanted to do. I particularly asked her not to make news of my “return” public, until I feel it is the right time – and she has agreed. So I would be grateful if you do not press her for information about me. I will briefly explain the situation.
At the time she abducted me, my adoptive mother believed she was doing the right thing by removing me from what she then regarded as an inadequate home. I believe she was at least misguided, and possibly mentally disturbed at the time. She has brought me up with great care and love, and is deeply attached to me, as I am to her.
She – my adoptive mother – now has terminal cancer, and may have only a few months to live, perhaps even weeks. She has come to recognise that her action, in taking me, was wrong, and she is tortured by guilt.
I myself am expecting a baby, which is due in February next year.
My adoptive mother will readily admit her role in abd
ucting me and is prepared to face the consequences, but I am not. I do not want her to spend the last weeks or months of her life in custody, and I ask that you can give me some assurance that this will not be necessary.
I am now becoming close to my birth mother, Shelley. I have come to regard her as a very admirable person. She has agreed to cooperate in not making any complaint against my adoptive mother. I’m sure you will understand that to protect my adoptive mother, I cannot yet give you any direct contact details for me, but I ask that you write a letter of assurance to me via Shelley Watts, whom I trust to send me the letter in confidence.
I am also putting my trust in you.
My thanks.
Whose name to sign: Lucy or Stacy? I left it unsigned – he would know who I was. Although Shelley had given me Detective Inspector Dempster’s home address, I sent the letter to him at the central police station in Riddlesfield; it felt more formal somehow. I knew he might well have retired by this time, but surely it would be forwarded?
After one of my visits to Alison, I took the sealed envelope and drove all the way to Riddlesfield. I deliberately posted it near to Shelley’s house. If the police attempted to trace where it had been posted, the only information they could glean would be that I had been near Shelley’s home – and I had already explained my contact with her, so it was nothing new.
I had explained the letter to Shelley, and she had agreed to forward any response from Detective Inspector Dempster to me in a plain envelope, which I left with her, ready addressed. In case her home was being observed, further visits to Shelley would now be possible only after hearing back from Detective Inspector Dempster, or after “going public”.
About a fortnight later, an envelope dropped through our letterbox. It contained the following letter:
8th November 2007
Dear Stacy,
(I can only address you by this name, in the absence of information as to what you might now be called.)
I am very pleased that you felt able to contact me again after these last several years. Please be assured that everything that could have been done to find you after you were abducted, was done, but sadly, our search was unsuccessful. That was partly due to the very careful planning of your “adoptive mother” (to use your own terminology). However, the case remained open, and you were never forgotten.