The Soft Whisper of Dreams (7 page)

Maddie gritted her teeth so hard her temples hurt. ‘Olivia, listen to me. I’m not giving you back a single thing I took from that house. You’re getting my entire share of the sale of it so I owe you nothing. Nothing! And for your information, I bought Mum that bracelet, so I bloody well do have a right to it. Now sod off and don’t ever call me again, got it?’

She slammed the phone down and fumed silently. If only she’d had a decent sister, how much easier life would have been. But the conversation with Olivia had helped in one respect – she now felt doubly justified in searching for her birth parents. If she found them, she’d have some family other than her adopted sister, and whether they wanted her or not, it had to be better than what she had now.

Chapter Seven

‘God, this is worse than going to the dentist,’ Maddie grumbled.

She was sitting in the waiting room of a non-descript office building somewhere in Holborn with Jessie, who had come to lend her support. The time for her appointment had come and gone, and she was sure that if it wasn’t her turn soon she would return to Devon without any nails whatsoever. She had bitten each and every one down to the quick and they were beginning to ache. Swearing under her breath she sat on her hands.

‘Shame we don’t have to wear gloves these days,’ she muttered. ‘I can see why they used to now.’ For some reason she was convinced her future happiness depended on the outcome of today’s interview, and that terrified her.

‘Calm down, I’m sure it will be your turn soon. You know government officials always work at their own pace.’ Jessie said reassuringly, and Maddie gave her a grateful look.

‘It’s lucky I have you and Kayla. I don’t know what I would do without you two.’

Jessie smiled. ‘Why don’t you read a magazine or something? It will take your mind off the waiting.’

‘Madeline Browne.’ A small woman had appeared at the door and Maddie jumped at the sound of her name. She stood up abruptly, almost overturning the chair in the process.

Jessie whispered, ‘Good luck,’ before giving her a small push in the right direction. Maddie swallowed hard and followed the counsellor into a maze of corridors.

The woman introduced herself as Bridget Wells, and eventually led Maddie into a small room with a rather dismal view of more office blocks. It was a curiously bare space – no plants, no pictures except for one large print of a particularly ugly Picasso painting and no papers. The desk was uncluttered and even the bin was empty. It gave the impression of being impersonal and cold, even sterile, and was obviously not someone’s office, but simply a room used for conducting interviews. A few pigeons were seated on the window ledge outside occupied with grooming themselves, and Maddie tried to focus on them to calm herself. She wasn’t very successful though, since she usually found them irritating with their constant cooing and pecking.

‘Please have a seat, Ms Browne.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Right then. Have you brought some form of identification?’ Maddie produced the necessary documents. ‘Excellent. Now tell me a bit about why you wish to find out about your natural parents, please.’

‘Well, my adopted parents were killed recently in a car crash, and it wasn’t until the reading of their will that I was informed of the adoption. They had never told me and always treated me as if I was their real daughter. Which, I suppose, to them I was, I mean ...’

Ms Wells nodded her understanding as Maddie floundered in her reasoning. She felt confused and once more had to sit on her hands. The temptation to chew her nails was always strongest whenever she was agitated, and it had never been as difficult to resist as today.

She managed to continue, ‘Naturally, it made me curious, and although I’m aware that my birth parents may not want me to contact them, I would at least like to try and find out a bit more about my real background. Perhaps to understand why ...’ Maddie broke off, suddenly unable to go on because there was a lump forming in her throat. The enormity of the situation had been brought home to her more forcefully by sitting in this bleak, depressing office, talking to a complete stranger, albeit a sympathetic one.

‘I see,’ said the counsellor. ‘Well, your curiosity is understandable, Ms Browne, but it’s my duty to prepare you for the fact that you contacting them may cause everyone concerned a lot of emotional stress and anguish. When someone gives up their child for adoption, it can be a very painful process, something they might not want to be reminded of. And although they will not have forgotten, they may not be pleased to hear from you. That, in turn, would affect you badly as well.’

Maddie felt her stomach contract painfully. ‘I know,’ she whispered.

‘It could be that you were adopted because your birth mother wanted to keep her pregnancy a secret, and in her later life she may not want the secret to be discovered. I’m sure you can understand that.’

‘Yes, of course I do.’

‘I just want you to know the possible effects of your actions before you do anything else. You have to be absolutely sure you are ready to face whatever facts you find. Believe me, you hear a lot of stories about people who find each other after twenty, thirty years and hit it off straight away, but the reality isn’t always quite so rosy. In fact, most often it’s not.’

Maddie stared out the window, attempting to keep her own emotions in check. This interview was a lot more painful than she had imagined it would be.

‘However,’ Ms Wells continued, ‘on a more positive note, there is a slight chance your birth mother would have changed her mind by now and is longing for you to contact her. After all, this happened a long time ago, and just as you are curious about her, she might wish to know what has become of you. Her circumstances could have changed as well. You could begin by checking on internet sites where people can reconnect with one another.’

Maddie nodded and fidgeted on her chair, studying her poor mistreated fingernails in minute detail. ‘So what happens now?’

‘I have here the details of your original name, date and place of birth, et cetera.’ Ms Wells pushed an A4 size paper across the desk towards Maddie, who picked it up almost reverently. ‘With this information you can apply for a full birth certificate from the Registrar General. That takes about five working days. Once you receive it, you will have to try and trace your birth parents yourself.’ A slight frown creased her brow. ‘I’m afraid there’s been some sort of administrative hiccup though and at the moment we don’t have any more information relating to your particular case. There should have been some, but it has most likely been saved in the wrong file or something. We are working on it and we’ll soon find it, I’m sure.’

‘I see.’ Maddie lifted the piece of paper with shaking fingers and read the scant notes. The stark black writing stood out against the pure white of the paper. To begin with, the letters danced in front of her eyes, and she had trouble making sense of them, but she took a deep breath and the words finally settled down into a coherent sentence. ‘Madeline Browne, original name Sorcha Kettering, born 19th August 1984, Shepleigh, Wiltshire. Mother’s name Ruth Kettering, father unknown.’ The name of the local authority who had authorised the adoption was also stated.

Maddie’s chest felt as if it were enclosed in an iron vice, and her stomach refused to settle down.

‘Ms Browne?’

Maddie realised Ms Wells was speaking to her. ‘What? Sorry, I ...’

‘I was just saying that you’re welcome to call me at any time if you have any further queries. And I will, of course, be in touch once we find the missing file.’

‘Thank you. You’ve been very kind. I, er ... thanks.’ Maddie was about to leave when she noticed something. ‘Hang on a minute. The date of adoption – it’s three years after my birth. Can that be right?’

Ms Wells nodded. ‘Yes, it’s not just babies that are adopted. Sometimes single mothers try to cope and later find they can’t. But we’ll know more about your case when we find that file.’

‘Oh, right. Okay. Well, goodbye.’

Blindly, Maddie stumbled out of the little office, down the hall and out into the reception area. I was three when I was adopted? So she could have had memories from a time before after all. The dream – was it real?

Jessie was waiting for her. ‘There you are! So how did it go?’

Maddie handed her friend the piece of paper and walked towards the exit. ‘Let’s get out of here, I need air.’

It was heaven to be back at Marcombe, and Maddie told Kayla so the minute she arrived. The peace of the big house wrapped her in a comforting cocoon, and the matter of her natural parents didn’t weigh on her mind here quite as much as it had in London.

‘It’s great to have you back too. Come and tell me what happened.’

Maddie dug the piece of paper out of her bag and showed it to Kayla. ‘This is all the information I have at the moment, but I’ve sent off for a full birth certificate. I doubt if it will have any more details though, but the counsellor said she’ll be sending me the rest of my file when she’s found it.’

‘Found it?’

‘Yes, they’ve been saved in the wrong place or something. Not surprising really, they must have tens of thousands of records to keep track of.’

‘All the more reason to keep them in order, I would have thought, but I suppose no one is perfect.’

‘Yes, and guess what? Look at the date of my adoption – it shows that I was three when it happened, not a baby, so that dream I told you about could be real memories after all.’

‘Wow, how intriguing! But scary too, I suppose … Well, at least having these details is a step in the right direction.’ Kayla scanned the single sheet of paper. ‘Hmm, not much to go by, but if you’re lucky Shepleigh might be a tiny place and someone will remember. Are you going to go there?’

‘I don’t know. Perhaps, but first I’ll wait for the birth certificate.’

‘Good idea. And in the meantime ...?’

‘In the meantime, I’m going to have a holiday, like I promised myself when I first arrived here last week. It may be that I never find out anything at all, and for now I think I just want to forget the whole thing for a while. I’m sick and tired of it churning round my brain.’

‘Sounds like a good plan to me. How about we go and see what Annie’s cooking for lunch?’

A week of glorious weather, outings to the cove and painting excursions around Marcombe Hall followed. Maddie tried to relax and leave the future to take care of itself. This holiday had been long overdue, and she was determined to enjoy it to the full, putting everything else out of her mind for the moment. She played happily with Kayla’s children and had long chats with her friend. From time to time, she also found herself in Alex’s company and although his brooding gaze unsettled her, he seemed to be making an effort to get to know her. Maddie wasn’t sure she should encourage him as she was determined not to become involved with any more players, but she didn’t want to be rude either. He was Kayla’s brother-in-law after all, so she couldn’t ignore him altogether.

‘What are you guys talking about?’ Kayla had come to inspect the sand castles Alex and Maddie were constructing for the kids while they chatted about this and that.

‘Alternative pop punk.’ Alex smiled at her. ‘Maddie and I seem to have the same taste in music.’

‘Seriously?’ Kayla made a face. ‘I didn’t think anyone else liked that stuff. It’s so noisy.’

‘You sound like a pensioner,’ Maddie teased. ‘You like some of the songs I played to you, admit it.’

‘Well, all right, but not the screechy ones.’

Alex laughed. ‘You and Wes are definitely a match made in heaven. He said the same thing when we were in the car the other day.’

‘Then you two must be as well,’ Kayla shot back and scooped up Edmund. ‘Come on, young man, time to get some of this sand off you.’

Maddie bent her head to hide her burning cheeks. Kayla was right in a way – their taste in music wasn’t the only thing she and Alex had in common. They seemed to like the same type of movies, books and TV programmes as well, which was a bit disconcerting. She’d never found anyone whose views were so in tune with her own. It made her wonder if he was just having her on in order to get in her good books.

The truth was she didn’t want to have things in common with him. She didn’t want to like him, full stop. That way lay danger.

‘There’s a film on at the local flea pit which you might like,’ he told her ‘How about we go and see it one evening?’

Maddie shook her head, without looking him in the eye. ‘Thanks, but it’s too hot to go to the movies. Maybe some other time?’ She hoped he’d take the hint and he did.

‘Right. Okay.’ But when she looked up, his eyes were narrowed, as if he was considering how to persuade her to reconsider. She hurriedly made an excuse and went to wash the sand off her hands.

Damn it all, she didn’t want to spend time alone with him. Why didn’t he just ask Jenna? For some reason, the thought of him with the willowy blonde made her even more cross, but she told herself to get a grip. If she stayed firm, he’d soon find someone else to go out with.

At the end of the week, the birth certificate arrived at last and Maddie felt as if her holiday was over. She stared at the green sheet of paper for a long time, the icy tentacles gripping her stomach once more. The time for decisions had come.

Kayla, when Maddie finally ran her to ground in Wes’s office, appeared distracted but listened to her friend patiently nevertheless.

‘You’ve finally received it? And what does it say?’

‘It’s almost the same as the information the counsellor gave me, except for the fact that it gives the name and address of the informant of the birth.’

‘And who was that?’

‘John Kettering, brother of Ruth. It gives his address as Three Bluehouse Lane, Shepleigh, Wiltshire. I assume it must be where she gave birth to me, or at a nearby hospital.’

‘Well, that’s good, isn’t it? Now you have a starting point. He might even be living there still.’

‘Yes.’ Maddie sighed and absently twirled a red curl round a finger. ‘I just don’t know whether I should go on with this or not, Kayla. I’m not sure I can face it.’