by Karen Osman
Angela didn’t know. She tried and failed to imagine what it would be like to have a child. Katie was just a child herself! What on earth was she thinking, getting pregnant? She was too young for such responsibility and what could she do with her life now? She was trapped. Angela looked around the group, as if seeking confirmation at the idiocy of Katie’s actions, but instead she was met with a sea of sympathetic faces.
‘Having a baby has changed everything,’ announced Katie. ‘Before, I was more open to understanding and forgiveness but now I look at my birth mother and think: how could you give away your child? I just feel so angry!’
Sympathy turned to agreement, as various group members nodded. Angela struggled to comprehend it. She tried to keep her face neutral but inside she was irritated. Of course having a baby would change everything – what did she think would happen?
‘I don’t want to be in touch any more but how can I tell her without hurting her feelings?’ concluded Katie.
‘Thank you for sharing,’ said Susan quietly. ‘That can’t have been easy.’ Turning towards the group, she asked, ‘Does anyone have any advice?’
Katie tended to her baby, who had begun to mewl quietly, and Angela saw a tiny arm fight its way out of the blanket.
‘I think you have to just bite the bullet and tell her directly,’ said a voice to Angela’s right. Turning to see who had spoken, Angela saw a dark-haired, clean-shaven man. He stood out because he was the only one, apart from herself, dressed in a suit.
‘As young adoptees, we never had a choice, and our futures were determined by others. But now you do have a choice,’ he emphasised, ‘and I think you should do what feels right for you.’
‘But what if Katie’s feelings are temporary?’ countered an older lady, who wore her glasses perched on the end of her nose. ‘Perhaps a result of post-pregnancy hormones? I had only a few years with my birth mother before she died, and although I went through the whole range of emotions, I was patient and worked through it. Staying in contact is not for everyone but I think for me, it helped.’
‘Thank you, Linda,’ replied Susan. ‘I agree that it’s important to be patient.’ Turning to Katie, she continued, ‘Don’t make any rash decisions. These things take time. One piece of advice is to write down your emotions, perhaps in a diary. It may help you process them and come to a decision. Katie, perhaps we can have a chat in our next one-to-one session and discuss it in a little more depth,’ said Susan, her tone more of a statement than a question, skilfully bringing the debate to a close.
Angela wanted to leave. She didn’t want anyone’s advice or sympathy. All she wanted to do was find her birth mother and she was completely emotionally equipped to deal with that. She didn’t need to be at these meetings. She would call Susan tomorrow and pass on the details for her to start the search for her birth mother but would politely decline the attendance at the support group. Before she could get up from her seat, though, Susan had invited her to speak. Not wanting to appear rude, Angela decided she would give the basic information and then discreetly leave the meeting to get back to work. But as all eyes swung towards her, patiently waiting, Angela felt a moment’s hesitation as she quelled an unexpected rush of nervousness. Sensing her unease, Susan tried to reassure her. ‘This is a safe space for you to share as much or as little as you like, or you simply may have questions and that’s fine, too. There are no rules here except that we all respect each other.’
I’m a solicitor, not a child, thought Angela crossly. She just needed a minute, that was all.
‘OK, well, I…’ Angela faltered, surprised. Clearing her throat, she tried again. ‘I grew up in a children’s home here in London before I was lucky enough to be adopted by an amazing couple – James and Rosemary. I was a little older than most kids who got adopted, but they took such good care of me and I think of them as Mum and Dad. I wouldn’t be where I am today without them. While I have always been curious about my birth mother and knew I wanted to find her, it’s only recently that I have decided to do something about it. My dad’s not well, you see, so…’
She hadn’t planned on talking about her dad’s cancer. What was she doing? Angela quickly wrapped up. ‘They want me to have as much support as possible and to be there to help me… during the process… if I find her.’
‘Thank you, Angela,’ said Susan. ‘It’s not easy sharing your story with the group for the first time. Your parents sound incredibly supportive.’
Angela swallowed hard. ‘Yes, they are,’ she managed.
Relieved that she could now finally escape, Angela sat back in her seat. She hadn’t expected this at all. She’d lived with the knowledge of her adoption all her life but she wasn’t used to talking about it. In fact, very few people knew, and she only disclosed it when absolutely necessary such as for medical reasons. While she told herself she wasn’t ashamed, she knew that people would see her differently if they knew the truth about her background. But this meeting had made her feel like she had an issue to overcome. She’d never seen it that way before. Angela’s take on it was that life with the Steeles was every adoptee’s dream – she had no reason to complain. Did it hurt that her mother had given her away? Of course, but it didn’t help anyone going over and over it. It was best to simply get on with life. But as the rest of the members continued speaking, sometimes tentatively, sometimes angrily, and occasionally with tears, each story picked at Angela’s subconscious like a seam ripper. It was only when Susan called the meeting to a close that she realised she had forgotten her plan to slip away early.
*
As the various group members stood up and started to leave, Alison briefly closed her eyes. She felt drained. She told herself that the long working weeks were having more of an impact on her than they used to. In her early twenties, she could easily do twelve-hour days and then socialise in the evenings and weekends for months on end. All she wanted to do now was go home but she needed to get back to the office. Angela thought wistfully of her tiny but beautiful flat in South Kensington. Maybe she would stop off at the pharmacy and see if she could pick up a supplement to help her energy levels.
As she was about to walk towards the door, Susan gently took her to one side. ‘Thank you for coming today. I do hope it wasn’t too daunting. As you can see, people have had so many different experiences with adoption and, as a result, different emotions and opinions.’
‘Thanks for having me,’ replied Angela politely. ‘It was an interesting session.’
‘Have you got very far with your search yet?’ enquired Susan.
The search. Angela had almost forgotten that that was the reason she was here.
‘Not very far, no. To be honest, I haven’t really done much about it apart from get the details from my parents and get in touch with you.’
‘I see. Well, as I mentioned on the phone, we have a rule that new members should attend a few meetings first,’ advised Susan, before adding, ‘We’ve found it just helps to prepare adoptees a little better for any possible outcome. I’m sure you understand.’
‘Yes, of course,’ agreed Angela, vaguely recalling that particular part of the conversation but wondering how she could get out of it. ‘However, I’m really keen to start looking as soon as possible.’ She paused. ‘You know, with my dad and everything,’ she added persuasively. Leveraging James’s illness wasn’t her finest moment, but did she really want to be spending her Tuesday evenings exploring her feelings? Not really. Susan looked Angela directly in the eye as she contemplated the request. She would make a good barrister, thought Angela as she waited to see what the older woman would say.
‘OK,’ agreed Susan eventually. ‘These searches can take a while anyway. If you give me the details, I’ll run them through our records to see what we can find.’
‘Thank you,’ said Angela.
‘Is it best to contact you at your office if I need to get in touch with you about anything?’ asked Susan.
‘Yes, that would be fine.’ Angela was
now itching to leave but Susan wasn’t prepared to let her go just yet.
‘Great. In the meantime, I’ll look forward to seeing you each week at the meeting and then I can also update you in person as well.’
‘Of course!’ replied Angela, her smile hiding her frustration that she would still have to attend.
Her schedule was busy enough with work and visits to Tetbury. She had been making the journey most weekends, arriving late in the evening on Fridays and either leaving late on Sundays or early on Monday mornings. It was a huge change to her routine, and while she would never say it, she missed her weekends, especially her nights out.
She had a circle of female friends from university, most of whom lived in or around London, and they met about once or twice a month on a Saturday night in a noisy bar before going on to a club. She’d noticed over the last couple of years, though, that the group was shrinking as the silent yet ever-present call to arms of marriage and motherhood beckoned. Sunday hangovers and young children did not go together well, apparently, something Lucy, her closest friend, had explained in great detail to her several times. Angela always changed the subject. It was to be expected really that they would have different priorities but still, it was a shame because she wasn’t as close to the other girls. In fact, even Lucy had accused her of being a closed door on occasion, which Angela had felt slightly unfair. She was a private person – what was wrong with that?
However, it was Lucy she had called when she’d first learnt of her dad’s illness and, despite Lucy shouting at her kids every five minutes during the conversation, Angela had been glad she could share her worrying news with someone.
Friends aside, though, the majority of the time Angela had recently found herself busy, and not with just work. For all her mum’s insistence that everything was in order, there was always something to be done to help her parents in Tetbury – medication to be understood, odd jobs around the house, the garden to see to, neighbours to be visited – and with a hectic work schedule as well, Angela was beginning to feel the impact of having no downtime. But it was nothing compared to what her dad was going through, she reminded herself and so she carried on: home, office, railway station, Tetbury, home, office again, and now the adoption meeting – her life on a loop, and she couldn’t help but wonder how and when it would all end.
*
As Angela finally left the church hall and stepped out into the crisp autumn air, she bumped into the clean-shaven suited man who had spoken during the meeting.
‘Hello’ he said, simply.
‘Hello.’
‘First time?’
‘Yes. Not yours, I’m guessing,’ she added, trying not to notice how good-looking he was.
‘How could you tell?’ he grinned. ‘Mitchell – pleased to meet you.’
‘Angela.’
‘Cab?’ he asked, flagging one down.
‘No, thank you, I’m heading back to the office and it’s quicker to walk.’
‘OK, well, see you next week!’ he said over his shoulder as he jumped into the car.
Maybe attending the meetings wouldn’t be such a chore after all, she thought as she started walking towards the office.
Angela wasn’t immune to her own beauty and as such, recognised and appreciated it in others. She hadn’t had many long-term relationships, convinced that her dedication to her career eventually scared them off.
It had been two years since Carl, her last boyfriend, and she’d ended it the minute he started whining that he didn’t see her enough. She remembered how stunned he’d been, almost in disbelief at her abrupt decision, but she wouldn’t put up with any distraction from her career and she’d been clear with him about that from the beginning. Carl had called her for weeks after, an uncomfortable and annoying period for Angela, her ex-lover’s pleas ricocheting from undying love and everlasting affection to enraged and impassioned insults. Calling a woman an ice-queen bitch was hardly going to make her change her mind now, was it? Eventually, she’d unplugged her answer machine. When he had then come round to her house, she hadn’t hesitated and immediately called the police, her only concern at the time being what the neighbours would think. As it happened, there were no flashing lights and loud sirens and Carl had gone quietly. The last she’d heard was that he’d married some girl just six months later and they’d had a baby. She wasn’t bitter about it – in fact she was relieved. Some people just couldn’t function well on their own. Luckily, she wasn’t one of them.
12
Monday 3 January 1972
Dear Diary,
The new people are wonderful! We can talk as much as we like on Sundays! And… they even bought a television! Every Saturday, we’re allowed to watch The Two Ronnies before we go to bed. It’s very funny. The new people are called Raymond and Kathleen, but we can call them Ray and Kath. I think they are married because they sleep in the same room. Ray has a pointy nose and is always smoking and Kath looks a bit like Twiggy, with short blond hair.
A.
Wednesday 5 January 1972
Dear Diary,
Today was the first day back at school. It was freezing cold and raining. Kath says there will be no snow in London this winter. When we did the inspection after breakfast, Ray said we looked like a bunch of ragamuffins and we needed new clothes. Peter’s trousers are so short his ankles are showing. We told him we don’t get new clothes, only old ones from the charity shops or from the school lost and found. Kath and Ray looked at each other. I told them it’s true – we don’t buy new clothes. Ray said he would see what he could do. He left the room shaking his head.
A.
Saturday 8 January 1972
Dear Diary,
I still can’t believe it happened. It was like a dream. This morning, Kath took me, Nelly, Mary, Jennifer, and Maureen into town to buy new clothes. Before we were allowed to leave the house, we had to wash thoroughly and comb our hair and put on our best old clothes. Kath told us we were ladies now and warned us to be on our best behaviour. We went on the Tube and Kath took us to C&A. The shop was so big. They had a whole area for school uniforms and Kath told us to choose three shirts and two skirts and take them to the dressing room to try them on. A woman helped us in the dressing room while Kath went to get us tights, shoes, and coats. When we had everything on, we all looked in the mirror and started laughing. We looked so shiny – just like new coins!
A.
Sunday 9 January 1972
Dear Diary,
I can’t WAIT to wear my new school uniform tomorrow.
A.
Thursday 13 January 1972
Dear Diary,
Kath is a good cook. She makes nice roast chicken with lots of gravy. She said Ray likes to have a man’s meal every day. I don’t know what a man’s meal is but I like all the food she cooks. Since Kath came, we have meat three times a week. The babies are getting fatter. Kath said she would teach me how to cook if I wanted to. She showed me all her wooden baking spoons. She told me they were a wedding gift and the first thing she unpacked. I counted eight in total of all different sizes. They hung in a row on the wall. I asked her if she knew how to make a birthday cake and she laughed.
A.
Saturday 22 January 1972
Dear Diary,
For my birthday, they gave me a party! I’ve never had a birthday party before. They made me a chocolate cake with eleven candles and gave me a present wrapped in birthday paper. It was a Mandy annual book – I’ve always wanted one of my own. I only let Nelly read it, though, as the others might tear it. It was the best birthday ever.
A.
Saturday 19 February 1972
Dear Diary,
Every Saturday morning, Ray takes the littlies to the park. He says they are too young to play our rowdy games in the den. They must get very tired because they stay out all morning even when it’s cold.
A.
Tuesday 21 March 1972
Dear Diary,
Me and Nelly played outside after s
chool today. Our favourite game is Pat-a-Cake where we have to bounce the ball against the wall, clap, and catch it again. We also played skipping and One Potato, Two Potato. Mary says she’s too old for our games. When I asked what she did instead of playing, she said none of my business. I bet she steals cigarettes and smokes them.
A.
Friday 7 April 1972
Dear Diary,
Today, Nelly received another letter from her old foster parents. She has a whole collection in a shoebox, but she doesn’t let me read them any more although I let her read my Mandy annual. It made me cross. She says they’re private, but I told her that friends are supposed to share everything. Nelly said not this, and she wouldn’t change her mind even when I asked nicely.
A.
Saturday 8 April 1972
Dear Diary,
Kath asked Nelly to help her prepare the vegetables. While she was gone, I snuck into the dorm and read one of her letters. I was very careful when I opened it and put it back exactly where I found it. I don’t know what’s so private – the letter was boring.
A.
Wednesday 17 May 1972
Dear Diary,
Everyone except Mary is working really hard at school and we are revising for the exam. Me and Nelly test each other for the answers and sometimes we let Maureen join in. Nelly told me I shouldn’t be so mean to her. When I told her she deserved it, Nelly went off and revised with Maureen.
A.
Friday 14 July 1972
Dear Diary,
Today was the last day of school. The teachers let us play games and sing songs and then we could read books. I’m looking forward to the summer holidays more now that Kath and Ray are here. I told Kath about the time Fat Franny and Nasty Nora took us to Brighton and she said we could do that again. They are so much fun, and they have started giving lollipops to the littlies as a reward when they do as they’re told.
A.
Tuesday 1 August 1972
Dear Diary,