Family Secrets (16 page)

“There’s
a pocket knife in that drawer.”

Rhianna
got up to fetch it and they watched with bated breath as Lawrence carefully cut round the edge of the frame. After a few minutes, he looked up, “Can you slide your hand inside, Rhia? It’s smaller than mine.”

At
first she found nothing and then she said, “There’s something here, but I can’t quite get hold of it.”

Letitia
handed her a letter opener. It took a little manoeuvring to retrieve the envelope from its hiding place. Rhianna handed it to Letitia who, in turn, gave it to Lawrence.

“It’s
a letter from Anna Soames to her unborn child.”

“Read
it, Laurie, if you will,” Letitia asked him.

“
To
my
darling
child
.

One
day
,
when
I
am
no
longer
on
this
earth
,
you
will
find
out
the
truth
.
Joe
Delroy
was
a
good
man
-
the
best
-
but
he
was
not
your
father
and
nor
was
Reg
.
The
truth
is
,
I
was
deeply
in
love
with
another
man
,
who
will
never
learn
of
your
existence
from
me
.

We
could
not
marry
because
,
when
we
met
,
both
of
us
were
engaged
to
someone
else
and
it
would
have
wrecked
too
many
lives
.
His
name
was
Henry
Parsons
.

Your
loving
mother
,

Anna
Soames
.

Rhianna
gasped. “Uncle Henry, but he and his wife, Penny, never had any children. He ought to be told he has a daughter.”

Letitia
was shaking her head in disbelief. “All these years - all this heartache. If only Anna had told us the truth.”

“Perhaps
she didn’t think it was a good idea at the time,” Lawrence said. “I mean, she couldn’t have known how things would turn out.”

Letitia’s
eyes misted. “Poor Tina, all these years never knowing who her father was. There was gossip, you know. Children can be cruel.”

Rhianna
was fishing about inside the cavity between the canvas and the frame.

“Wait a minute - there’s another envelope!”

This was even more difficult to retrieve than the first one. It was flat and contained a thick sheet of discoloured paper covered with copperplate writing.

Her
eyes widened. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Good
gracious - it’s the original title deeds to
Lilac
Cottage
. I hunted high and low for these when Reg died. I knew it would cause a problem, if I ever wanted to sell up, but his will clearly stated that, apart from one or two minor bequests, he’d left everything to me. I don’t understand what this means.”

A
sheet of paper fluttered to the floor and Lawrence picked it up. He handed it to Letitia who scanned it.

“It
appears that Reg left the cottage to Anna and her offspring. Anna put the deeds in here for safe-keeping. No wonder it’s caused so much grief over the years. Betty Soames must have known there was something of importance hidden in the picture frame, but she didn’t breathe a word.”

“Perhaps
she didn’t know what it was Anna had hidden. I suppose she must have done it after she broke up with your son,” Lawrence said.

“Yes
- the portrait would have been in the studio at the cottage. Joe would have found it when he was collecting his other things.”

“Did
he know she’d been planning to give it to him as a wedding present?”

Letitia
shook her head. “We’ll never know, Rhianna. But it was Anna’s father, Derek, who had it framed. He bought the frame in a house sale. Obviously, Reg had a fit of conscience and left Anna the title deeds. We’d often discussed making the cottage over to the Soames, but never got round to it…Well, Tina will be pleased.”

“I’m afraid, I can’t get in touch with her,” Lawrence said. “I’ll have to wait for her to contact me.”

“I
suppose Reg would have put it all in his new will, but you see, he never got round to updating it.”

“So
it’s actually up to you what you choose to do about this?” Rhianna enquired.

Letitia
nodded. “I intend to follow Reg’s wishes and let Tina have the cottage now - sooner rather than later. I must contact my solicitor… Now, haven’t you two got some things to sort out? Then, I thought we’d all go out for supper at
The
White
Unicorn
. Their new kitchen is installed and I understand the food is good.”

Rhianna
and Lawrence went into the kitchen which was warm and cosy. She listened as he told her why he’d had dinner with Christina Soames. He also filled her in with a great deal more.

“So
you see Tina is - how shall I put it - emotionally fragile. Over the years she’s mixed with the wrong sort of people - got heavily into debt at one time. Her so-called friends got her into bad habits, soft drugs, drink, and encouraged her to lead an extravagant lifestyle. When I met her, I didn’t know any of this to begin with. She was bewitching - like her mother - but she soon showed herself in her true colours.

“When
we parted company she set fire to the studio and a quantity of my paintings went up in smoke.”

Rhianna
found it difficult to credit what he was telling her.

“Can
you forgive me, Rhia, for being so gullible? It wasn’t love, I realise that now; it was infatuation.”

She
went into his outstretched arms and he kissed her passionately.

“One
day soon I’ll show you just how much I love you,” he told her.

“I’ll
hold you to that,” she said with a smile, “if ever we get the chance to be on our own for any length of time.”

She
reached up and traced the outline of his face.

“Shall
we be making tracks?” Letitia called from the hallway.

“Coming,”
Lawrence called back and they stifled their laughter.

*

Tina Soames had taken one look at the portrait of her mother and declared she couldn’t possibly accommodate it. Letitia arranged to gift her the cottage because of the legal complications, but Tina didn’t want that either and said she would sell it.

*

The exhibition of Rhianna and Lawrence’s paintings took place on a fine May day. It was a great success and, much to Tim and Myra’s delight, they raised a lot of money for the church roof fund. Everyone came to support them - Fiona and Dave, Lawrence’s family and, of course, Letitia.

That
evening, Lawrence took Rhianna on a short drive.

“It’s
a mystery tour,” he explained.

He
pulled up outside
Lilac
Cottage
. It was looking particularly lovely that evening.

“You’ve
never got this place out of your system, have you, Laurie?”

He
shook his head. “I thought I could never live here again, but I’ve changed my mind. Tina was in a hurry to sell because she’s going to New Zealand to visit Henry Parsons and so - I’ve bought it off her.”

Rhianna
gasped. “You’ve done what?”

“You
see, I made a fair bit of money in the States and inherited a bit more from my grandfather. My parents have helped make up the deficit.”

“You’re
going to move to Brookhurst? But what about us - the gallery?”

His
green eyes sparkled. “Oh, that’s the good bit. I thought we could have this place as our week-end home. That way we’d get to see Letitia, Tim and Myra and all our other friends - and for the rest of the week - we could live at yours.”

She
stared at him uncomprehendingly for a moment. He took her by the hand and led her into the garden where the lilac tree was in full bloom.

“What
I thought was, Rhia…”

“Yes?”
she prompted, her heart pounding.

“How
would it be if we got married in Brookhurst church?”

After
a moment Rhianna said, “How would it be if you asked me first?”

For an answer, he took her in his arms and whispered against her hair, “Rhianna Delroy. I love you deeply and want you to be my wife. Will you marry me?”

“Yes
- oh, yes, please,” she breathed, blue eyes shining.

There
was a resounding cheer from the direction of the garden gate as he kissed her.

Looking
up, they saw a sea of grinning faces.

“Aunty
Tish said you’d be here…If you’re getting married, can I be a bridesmaid?” asked Katie.

Rhia
bent down to the little girl’s level.

“You
certainly can, because you’ve just given me such a good idea.”

She walked to Letitia’s side and threw an arm about the elderly lady’s shoulder.

“How
would it be if I called you, Grandma Tish?”

Letitia
Delroy beamed. “That would be just fine, my darling grand-daughter.”

If you enjoyed
Family Secrets
by Jenny Lane, you may be interested in
Relative Strangers
by Chrissie Loveday, also published by Endeavour Press.

Extract from
Relative Strangers
by Chrissie Loveday

Chapter
One

The pain was excruciating. Why hadn’t anyone told her? A new wave came over her and she screamed.

‘Now
then, it isn’t that bad. Just breathe through it. Come on now.’

‘You
have no idea what I’m going through,’ Jemima snapped. ‘Masochist.’ She lay back, having got over that cycle.

‘Good
girl. Relax until the next one comes.’

The
midwife was doing something to her down below, where she couldn’t see. She felt a new surge of pain starting.

‘Oh
God, here it goes again. How much long...’ She stopped as the agony took hold of her again. She tried so hard not to scream and bit her tongue with the effort.

‘Good.
One more like that and you’ll be ready to push. I’m going away for a few minutes now. If another one comes before I’m back, just breathe through it.’ The woman left her. She lifted her head slightly looking round the room. It was bleak. Yes, that was the word for it. Bleak. White paint and nothing on the walls to cheer them up. Hygiene she assumed. The bed she was lying on, called the delivery couch, was hard as nails. Her feet were suspended in some device leaving all her private parts open for anyone to see. The next contraction was coming and she flopped back. As she was alone in the room, she screamed. It seemed to help and nobody came in to tell her off. Then she felt as if she was longing to go to the toilet. Oh my god she thought, I really need the lavatory. What ever could she do? She felt the next one coming. What had the woman said? Push. She did so and felt herself peeing. Too bad. The midwife shouldn’t have left her alone. She pushed and pushed like she had never done before. The door opened and the midwife came back in.

‘Now
let’s see how you’re doing. Have you been pushing?’ she asked in an accusing way.

‘You
said I should push with the next contraction. So I did.’

‘You
need control my girl. I’ll tell you when to push.’

‘You
weren’t here. I’m afraid I went to the toilet.’

‘So
I see. Okay, push now,’ she said as her next contraction started. ‘Easy now. You

don’t
want to tear.’

The
next few minutes went by in a flood of pain and then relief as the baby was born. The midwife took it and wrapped it in a blanket, leaving Jemima lying on the couch. She felt a new contraction beginning, this time a mild one. Had she got another baby in there? She pushed again and something slid out.

‘Help
me someone. Please ...’ She was sobbing. She wanted to see her baby but the midwife had taken it away.
It
. Was it a boy or girl? The midwife came back into the room. ‘Something else came out,’ she told the woman.

‘Afterbirth.
That’s all.’

‘So
where is my baby?’

‘You
mustn’t worry about him. He’s safe.’

‘When
can I see him?’

‘Best not.’

‘Best
not? Whatever do you mean?’

‘You’re
best not to see him. Can’t have you getting attached, now can we?’

‘Why
not? I gave birth to him didn’t I? What’s wrong with him?’

‘Nothing.
He’s fine. We shall look after him and find him some good parents. You can go home in a day or two. You’ve had an easy birth. Be grateful for that anyway.’

‘You
call that easy? It was sheer hell.’

‘I’ll
be back in a few minutes to wash you off. Just lie there for a while.’

‘But
I want to see my baby,’ Jemima screamed. ‘My beautiful baby boy. I want my baby.’ She fell into crying and felt as if her life was over. Why on earth had she done it? Why had she had sex with that boy? He was handsome and he had told her everyone was doing it nowadays.

‘Come
on love. It’s so easy. You know you want to, don’t you?’

‘Well,
all right then. If you’re sure.’

They’d
left the dance and gone outside. He’d led her round the back of the dance hall and pulled her knickers down.

‘Stop
a minute. What if someone comes round here?’

‘They
won’t. Come on now.’ She felt him hard against her and he kissed her. She grew wet and a strange feeling stemmed from the bottom of her tummy. He threw her knickers to the ground and fumbled with his zip. His penis was huge as he pushed it into her. She felt sick but he continued to pump until suddenly, he came. A sticky mess slid down her legs. ‘Oh darling, you’re the best,’ he mumbled. ‘Now pull your knickers back up.’

Was
that it, she wondered? Was that what it was all about?

Jemima
lay on the bed, her legs now released from their supports. The midwife had returned and washed her off with something that smelt disinfectanty.

‘Have
you got your nightie?’

‘It’s
in my room. You gave me this thing to wear when I was back there.’

‘Oh
yes. Okay. Well, you’d better go back there and put it on. There’s a pad for you to wear. I’ll give you a bandage to fasten it. Get up now.’ Feeling wobbly, she rose from the birthing couch and stood hanging onto to it for a moment. The midwife fastened a bandage round her middle and hooked the sani pad to it. ‘Right. Off you go.’

Tottering
along the corridor and back to her room, she felt as if her life was concentrated into a mess that was down below her, somewhere. She was walking bow-legged. And where was her baby? She looked at several doors as she went along the corridor. Was he in there? Behind one of those doors? She hesitated and pushed one open. It was store cupboard. She pushed open the next one and the next one but her baby boy, Jacob as she was going to call him, was not there. Feeling very teary, she went back into the room she shared with four other mothers. One of them was only just starting her labour.

‘What
did you have then?’ one of them asked.

‘A
boy, I was told. I never got to see him.’

‘That’s
how it always is. Some places let you see them for a few days before they go. Here, they take them away straight away. I know my sister said it was like that for her. I didn’t mind. I never wanted mine anyway. Glad to see the back of it.’

‘I
didn’t realise they took them away straight off. Where do they go?’

‘They
have a list of people who want them. So, how old are you anyway?’

‘Fifteen.
Sixteen next week actually.’

‘So
you couldn’t have kept it could you?’

‘My
Mum would have helped me. Well, I think she might have.’

‘Not
if she sent you down here. It’s known for its quick turnaround. I’m going home tomorrow. They won’t want you here for long either. I bet they’ll be sending you back in a day or two.’

The
other girl who was starting labour began to cry.

‘I
never realised it would hurt this much.’

‘It
won’t take you too long, I’m sure.’ Jemima wanted to help the girl but simply didn’t know what to say. ‘Have you told them you’ve started?’

‘Not
yet. I thought I needed to be well on the way.’

‘I’ll
call someone for you.’ She went to the door and yelled. No need to be polite any more. She was going home soon. ‘Come in here quick. Maggie is giving birth.’

A
midwife came in.

‘Lie
on your bed dear. I’ll examine you.’ In front of the others in the room, she hitched the girls pants down and stuck her fingers into the girl. ‘Yes. You’re well underway. I’ll get you a gown and then you can follow me along to the delivery room.’

‘Good
luck,’ called the others.

Two
days later, still grieving over what she saw as the loss of her baby, Jemima was sent home. She sat on the train, wanting to cry, but the carriage was full of normal looking people who would never have understood. She surreptitiously wiped away the tears and hoped her parents would be meeting her.

The
train stopped and she picked up her travelling bag. She could see her mother waiting on the platform. She almost ran along, or she would have done if she wasn’t so sore, and flung her arms round her mother.

‘Thanks
for coming to meet me, Mum. It was so awful.’

‘Yes,
well you knew what would happen. Come on or we’ll miss the bus.’ She set off at quite a pace with Jemima struggling to keep up. The bus was waiting outside the station.

‘One
and a half to Mursely Street,’ she said to the conductor.

‘Is
she a half?’ he asked suspiciously.

‘Course
she is. I know my daughter.’

‘Well,
I’ll take your word for it this time. She looks older than sixteen.’

Jemima
kept silent. When the conductor left them, she said,

‘I
was sixteen last week. In case you’d forgotten.’

‘I
remembered. Your auntie sent you a card. I’ve got one for you at home too. But why pay full fare for you? Waste of money, so close to your birthday and all.’

She
sat looking out of the window at the familiar streets. Her own nightmare was over.

‘Do
they know what happened at school?’

‘They
think you’ve had glandular fever. You’ll be going back next term. Your exams will be starting soon. I hope you continued your studies while you were away.’

‘I
tried but it wasn’t easy. Perhaps they’ll give me some extra help.’

‘I
doubt you’ll get anything extra after what you did.’

‘It
wasn’t my fault,’ she whispered.

‘You
must have known what you were doing. Let’s hear nothing more about it. Your father certainly doesn’t want to hear any more.’

‘You
haven’t even asked me what I had.’

‘It
was a baby wasn’t it? That’s it now. No more mention of it. It’s all in the past.’

To
Jemima, it was never going to be in the past. Night after night she cried herself to sleep, missing ‘Jacob’. Would she ever get over losing him? She doubted it very much. The boy she’d had sex with had moved away. She would never see him again.