sUnwanted Truthst (32 page)

Jenny parked and stared at the fields at the end of the road. Milk chocolate furrows stretched to rough grassland, too steep to be ploughed. A ribbon of tarmac divided the fields from private housing on the right-hand side. The afternoon sun shone blinding rays of light onto the rear windows of the cars as they crept to the summit. Crisp orange and yellow leaves twirled in the gutter in front of her car.

She wondered what she should do now. Why did she have to find out? She wished she had left well alone. A Pandora's box. Was this her punishment for leaving Robert? If she told Martin the truth, everything could change; his feelings towards her might change. He might leave her. She couldn't disrupt Lorna and Nicky's lives again.
But, he doesn't have to know
.
He would never find out, nobody could.
It was only herself who could be given this information. She would never be able to tell anybody, but she wouldn't want to. She would have to live with the truth, she had done that before; she could do it again.

Turning her head, she saw a dozen rusty nails scattered across the red brick wall that formed a backdrop to the front garden. Some of them still held fragments of her father's frayed gardening string. Tears flooded down her face, as she sat mesmerised by them.

Ten minutes later she wiped her cheeks with the sleeve of her coat, and walked up the garden path. She passed the flaking front door, and opened the low gate that led to the back garden. The triangular vegetable patch had been cemented over. Only the gnarled apple tree remained; its stubby trunk rising from a postage stamp patch of earth encircled by concrete. Jenny recalled the acid sharpness of the fruit, remembering how she loved to dip the slices in sugar when her mother wasn't looking.

In front of the dividing trellis had been a well-tended lawn. Now, tufts of tall grass sprouted from rough brown patches that stretched uneasily to the broken wire fence that separated the houses. Locked into the ground were two climbing frames – forgotten skeletons in an open air museum – their bones chipped and fractured. Jenny felt uneasy; she was trespassing in someone else's life. She walked back to her car, and sat staring at the fields. So, her birth mother hadn't been a young girl at all, she was a married woman, neither was she from far away, she was from the same town. Too close for comfort. It certainly was now.

‘Get a fucking move on will you.'

Startled, Jenny looked behind her. A heavily pregnant young woman was dragging a coffee-coloured toddler up the path to the front door. The girl's face was framed by a straight blonde fringe and shoulder-length hair. A large gold hoop hung from each ear. The boy screamed and more expletives followed as the girl urged the reluctant child forward. She glowered at Jenny, who looked away. A door slammed and Jenny looked round. They had disappeared inside the flat. Jenny sat and stared straight ahead until her right leg cramped, making her face twist with pain. She stretched her leg to release the muscle and then turned the ignition key.

She braked as the traffic lights changed, and looked across to the church and windmill.
Not now,
she thought.
I can't visit the graveyard today. My two mothers lying feet away from each other. I need to be stronger for that.
Her stomach rumbled like distant thunder and her nausea returned.

Jenny parked in her usual space and ran into the cottage. She threw her handbag and coat onto the sofa and opened the back door for Toby. Grabbing two plain biscuits from the tin she looked up – four o' clock – Lorna would be home soon. She picked up a box of matches and took a newspaper from the top of a pile on top of a chair. Returning to the sitting room she opened the glass door to the fire, took a bundle of thin pieces of wood from the basket in the hearth, and layered them with torn newspaper inside the stove. She struck a match, and then reached for her bag that lay beside a travel guide to Rome. She pulled out Martin and Anna's birth certificates together with the letter from the General Register Office and ripped them into pieces. The flames burst into life as she fed them, carefully turning the wood with the poker. She then pulled out her own birth certificate and tore it into shreds.

There was a squeal of brakes, and a familiar clunk. Jenny dashed over to the window. Martin's Land Rover stood outside. ‘What's he doing back now?' Her heart hammered against her ribs as she ran back to the fire and slammed the door shut with her foot. She fell onto the sofa, and opened the book…
Rome lies along the banks of the River Tiber and is one of Europe's most continuously occupied cities, dating back two and a half thousand years. It is also known as The Eternal City…
In her clenched fist she held the remnants of her certificate. The door latch moved upwards and Martin filled the room.

‘I've had enough for today. There was a bunch of school kids mucking about all morning. One of them must have opened the display case as some of the exhibits are missing. I suppose I'll have to phone the school tomorrow. You've lit the fire already?'

‘Yes, I felt cold when I got home.' She continued to stare at the pages of the book…
traditional stories explain the earliest history of the city in terms of legend. The most famous being the story of Romulus and Remus, the twins suckled by a she-wolf…

Martin stepped towards her and bent down. She closed her eyes as she met his lips.

‘You're reading up on Rome, that's good. It's not long now before we go. Do you think Lorna's O.K. about staying with Robert?'

‘Yes, she's fine about it. Could you put the kettle on for some tea?'

‘I'll make you a cup, but I need something stronger.'

As he left the room, Jenny dropped onto the floor and opened the glass door. She unclenched her fist, threw the remains of her certificate into the fire, leant back on her heels and watched as the flames leapt higher.