Forgotten Child (24 page)

‘Mary came from Bray, on the coast in County Wicklow,’ Edward said, thankful that a place had come to mind, ‘but with so much going on, why are you asking me where your mother was born?’

‘Because I want to go there.’

‘Go there! But why?’

‘Since…since all this happened I’ve had this strange feeling, as though something is calling me. And…and last night, I had this dream, saw this place, a beautiful place. Is it beautiful there, Daddy?’

‘There are lots of beautiful places, darling, and I’m sure it was just that, a dream. You’ve had a terrible shock, that’s all, and perhaps this is your mind’s way of coping with it.’

‘No, it was more than that. I’ve decided, I’m going to Ireland.’

‘Don’t be silly. You aren’t fully recovered yet and I insist you come home.’

‘No, Daddy.’

‘Jenny, there’s nothing in Ireland for you, nobody to look after you.’

‘I can take care of myself. ’

‘Look, I know what this is about. It’s your mother and how she reacted.’

‘She doesn’t care about me. All she cares about is her social standing.’

‘That isn’t true. Your mother realises now that she behaved badly. She wants to apologise, but you won’t take her calls.’

‘I will, Daddy, perhaps tomorrow.’

‘Jenny, you shouldn’t spend another night alone here. Come home with me now, this evening.’

‘I can’t leave yet. I’ve still got packing to do and I don’t have to move out yet, in fact not until Thursday morning.’

‘You won’t want to be here when that woman turns up again. What about tomorrow evening? I could come round to give you a hand with your cases.’

‘I can manage. I’ve got my car.’

‘Yes, but you shouldn’t lift heavy things yet.’

‘All right then, you can give me a hand.’

‘That’s my girl and in that case I’ll hang on to the keys. Now, if you’re sure you’ll be all right, I’ll go now.’

‘I’ll be fine.’

‘See you tomorrow then, darling,’ Edward said, heaving a sigh of relief that Jenny had given up her
silly idea of going to Ireland. She’d be coming home, and as they had grown so close of late, Delia would be pleased. He drove home now, looking forward to passing on the good news to his wife.

‘Well, what did Jennifer say?’ Delia asked as soon as her husband walked in the door. Delia knew that in the heat of the moment, she had behaved badly, that all she’d been concerned about was her social standing and desperately wanted to apologise for the terrible things she’d said to Jennifer.

‘She was reluctant at first, but I managed to talk her into coming home. I’m going back tomorrow evening to help with her cases.’

‘I’m surprised she agreed, but pleased.’

‘Are you really, Delia?’

‘Yes, of course I am, though for all our sakes I think we should move away from this area. The gossip is dreadful and will get worse. People already know about Marcos, about the robbery, and that’s bad enough. When it gets out that Jennifer wasn’t really his wife, that she was just living with him, our lives will be made a misery.’

‘I can understand why you feel like that, and yes, it might be for the best. However, it won’t happen overnight. We’ll have to put this house on the market, wait for a buyer…’

Delia was just relieved that Edward had agreed and shut out the rest of his words. She had already
been shunned. At the grocer’s that day when she’d bumped into a member of the WI – the woman had looked at her with disgust, giving her the cold shoulder before walking out of the shop. It had been devastating and Delia was especially worried now about her son having to face the same kind of behaviour. She had rung Robin, and though he had wanted to come down to see Jennifer at the weekend, she had encouraged him to stay away for now.

Delia’s thoughts now turned to her sister. Beatrice had been horrified, and had expressed her disgust that Marcos had brought this shame on their family. She had then offered a few words of comfort, but so far she hadn’t been in touch again. Delia had tried to ring her on several occasions, but the telephone had not been answered. Perhaps Beatrice was worried that by association it could cause ramifications for Timothy, yet surely it wouldn’t come to that? Delia was upset that Beatrice seemed to be distancing herself, felt it was unnecessary, and given time she was sure her sister would realise that.

‘…in the meantime Jenny needs us, our support, and when she comes home tomorrow evening, we’ll be able to give her just that,’ Edward said, looking at Delia now as though waiting for her response.

‘Yes, we will, but I still need to apologise and perhaps if I ring her in the morning she’ll take my call now,’ Delia said. She had thought long and hard about her behaviour, how in the heat of the moment
she had turned on Jennifer, but in all reality none of this was really the poor girl’s fault. Like her, Jennifer had been taken in by a man’s lies, and instead of offering sympathy and understanding, she had called Jennifer and her mother Irish trash. She shouldn’t have said that, it was awful. It was the men in all this who were to blame, not the women. When Jennifer came home, Delia was determined to make amends, unaware then that it would be a long time before she got the opportunity.

When her father left at seven thirty, Jenny went upstairs to finish packing. She’d lied to him, but he’d left her no choice. If she hadn’t agreed to go home her father would have gone on and on at her, and at least the fib had made him stop. Alone again now, the same thoughts plagued Jenny. Her life with Marcos as his wife had been a sham. Everything about him had been a sham. The man she loved had never existed, and she couldn’t love the monster that had been presented in his place.

She couldn’t stay here, but she wouldn’t go to her father’s house. Delia had made her feelings plain before she had stormed out, accusing her of bringing shame to her family, and saying she regretted the day that her father had found her. Yet it was the final, dreadful things she’d said that Jenny couldn’t forget, words that had perhaps set off her dream. ‘You’re Irish trash,’ Delia had yelled. ‘Just like your mother!’

Jenny’s hands trembled as she opened her jewellery box. She hadn’t told her father what had been said. Delia would deny it, play her wounded act, and she didn’t have the strength or the will to go up against her. Of course she knew what Delia had been inferring – that had her baby lived, she too would have been an unmarried mother.

But I didn’t know my marriage was bigamous, Jenny thought. Irish trash…no, she refused to think of herself, or her mother, as that. Mary too had probably trusted a man, had been taken in by his lies, but he’d disappeared and left her mother’s name in ruins. Was that why Ireland was calling her? Was her mother somehow reaching out from beyond the grave, urging her to go to Ireland, wanting her to uncover the truth?

She looked at her jewellery, hating it now, just as she hated the money in her bank account that Marcos had provided. Despite that, Jenny knew she had to be practical. To do what she wanted to do she had to have money, and if it ran out she could sell the jewels. She stuffed them in a pouch, hesitating as she wondered if her father was right – that the dream had been just an escape from the horrors of reality.

It was an hour later when the entry gate buzzed and Jenny’s stomach flipped. She didn’t want to open it, couldn’t face any more, anyone, and froze. All was quiet and at first she thought that whoever it was had given up…but no, the buzzer went off
again, this time incessantly. Jenny put her hands over her ears, but it didn’t drown out the sound, and at last, stuffing the pouch of jewellery in her pocket, she went downstairs.

‘Who is it?’ she asked, her voice tremulous.

‘It’s the police. Let us in.’

Jenny allowed entry, wondering why they were here as she waited at the door. There was a thump of a fist on wood, and she opened it, staring at two very large men. They weren’t in uniform and so at first she thought they must be from CID, but then they shoved her aside without a word, leaving her only able to cry out, ‘What are you doing? What do you want?’

‘What’s owed,’ one growled.

‘I…I don’t know what you mean.’

‘Edna Moon lost her son, and we think she should be compensated.’

‘Edna! Edna sent you here?’

‘Nah, course not.’

‘I don’t understand. You’re…you’re not policemen?’

‘Do we look like pigs?’

Jenny stared up at the man, shaking, and he answered his own question. ‘Nah, but saying that got us in. Now then, down to business. Word’s got round about Edna, and in our area we look after our own. It’s down to Cane that her son’s dead, and as I said, we think she deserves compensation.’

‘You…you want money?’

‘Yeah, that’s right.’

‘I…I think I’ve got a few pounds in my purse.’

‘A few quid! You must be joking,’ the man said, swinging around to address the other man. ‘Right, AJ, let’s look around. If she ain’t got cash, we’ll take it in kind.’

‘No…no, you can’t do that.’

‘Who’s gonna stop us?’ he said as moving to the telephone, he ripped it from the socket. ‘We’ll start in there, and you…you’re coming with us.’

Jenny’s arm was grabbed and she was dragged into the drawing room, forced to watch in horror as the other man began to yank open drawers.

‘Nothing much here,’ he said, throwing things aside, ‘but those ornaments and paintings might be worth a few bob.’

‘I’ll hold on to this one, AJ, while you stick ’em in the van.’

This continued, room by room, Jenny’s legs barely able to support her as she ineffectually continued to plead, ‘But none of this is mine. It…it belongs to Pat now. Pat Cane…his…his wife.’

‘So what! That hard-faced, greedy cow will be sitting in clover now, but she won’t do anything for Edna Moon.’

‘She…she told me not to take anything.’

‘If it ain’t your stuff, what are you worried about?’ he snapped. ‘Now shut up! Your whining is getting on me wick.’

Jenny was then pushed upstairs, shoved onto her bed, and then noticing her packed cases the man called AJ asked, ‘Going somewhere?’

‘Pat…Pat Cane told me I’ve got to move out.’

‘Now, why doesn’t that surprise me,’ he said, opening one of the cases.

‘It…it’s just my clothes.’

‘Yeah, I can see that, and as that bitch is going to get the lot, I’ll do you a favour and leave your gear alone. Where are you moving to?’

‘I…I don’t know, but a long way from here.’

He nodded, then left her things untouched, instead moving across the room to open a wardrobe and exclaiming, ‘Fuck me, look at these suits.’

‘I’d rather fuck her, AJ.’

‘Let’s get this job done first. Do you reckon they’d fit me?’

‘Yeah, maybe, but I won’t get into them.’

‘I thought you said you’d rather get into her.’

Jenny began to shake, her eyes darting frantically round the room, seeking escape, but then AJ swung round, his eyes surprisingly kind. ‘He’s just joking. Like me, he ain’t so hard up that he’d want Cane’s leftovers.’

The other man, now rooting in the drawers, paused as he said, ‘Well, well, look at this.’

‘Jackpot! Rolex, Cartier, and those cufflinks are gold.’

‘Yeah, they must be worth hundreds.’

‘With all the other stuff, that should do it. Come
on,’ AJ urged as they stuffed the valuables into their pockets, ‘let’s go.’

‘What about her? She’s bound to call the Old Bill and we don’t want any of this put on Edna.’

AJ pursed his lips and then sat down beside Jenny. She scrambled away from him and he laughed. ‘Scaredy cat, ain’t yer. Now then, we don’t like narks where we come from, so be warned. And as anything we get for this lot is going to Edna, you could call us good Samaritans.’

‘Why don’t we just shut her up permanently?’

‘No…please, I…I won’t say anything,’ Jenny gasped, fighting for words. ‘You…you’re right. What does it matter? It…it isn’t mine. None of it is mine and…and I’d like to help Edna.’

‘Good girl,’ he said approvingly, ‘and anyway, what could you tell the police? You could give a description of us, but we’re pretty average really. Names? We didn’t use any and forget about him calling me AJ. It was just something set up for tonight.’

‘It’s still a bit risky,’ the other one warned.

‘Nah, she’s all right,’ said AJ, then looking at Jenny again. ‘I’m taking a chance on you, but as I said, be warned. If you open your mouth you’ll live to regret it.’

‘I…I won’t say anything,’ Jenny said desperately. ‘I…I promise.’

‘Right, come on then, let’s go,’ he said, rising to his feet.

‘Ain’t you gonna at least tie her up? It’ll give us a bit of time.’

‘There’s no need. The phone’ll be out of commission for a while, and anyway, she’s gonna keep her mouth shut.’

‘Are you?’ the other man asked, his eyes, unlike AJ’s, hard on Jenny.

‘Ye…yes…’

‘Go,’ AJ urged, pushing the other man out of the door.

There was the sound of them thudding downstairs, and then the front door slammed. Jenny heard the sound of an engine, tyres crunching over gravel, but couldn’t move. She was still shaking, in shock, and time seemed to stand still.

Slowly, gradually, her limbs stopped shaking and at last Jenny got off the bed. She wanted to run then – run to safety, run to someone. Her father! Her stomach heaved and she dashed to the bathroom.

At last, only bringing up bile now, it was over and Jenny straightened, feeling dizzy and weak. She staggered to the sink, and in the mirror over it saw that her face was bathed in perspiration. She wanted a bath, as though she could wash away all the horrors of what had happened since Marcos’s death. More than that, though, she wanted to get away from this house. It was then that the strange feeling engulfed her again, an overwhelming need, and all thoughts
of running to her father died. Only he would want her – only he would welcome her.

Jenny quickly sloshed water over her face, cleaned her teeth and gargled, then hurried back to her bedroom. She couldn’t spend another night here, wouldn’t spend another night here. She took the pouch of jewellery from her pocket, amazed that the man who had held her hadn’t realised it was there. Jenny stuffed it into one of her cases and now hurriedly packed an overnight bag in a strange state of automation. She put on a coat and a scarf, flung the bag over her shoulder and heaved the rest of the luggage downstairs.