KITTY NEALE
Forgotten Child

Copyright

Published by Avon an imprint of

HarperCollinsPublishers

1 London Bridge Street,

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

This ebook edition published by HarperCollins Publishers 2016

First published in paperback by HarperCollinsPublishers, 2010

Copyright © Kitty Neale 2010

Cover design © Debbie Clement 2016

Cover photographs: Getty

Kitty Neale asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9781847563545

Ebook Edition © May 2016 ISBN 9780007399420

Version: 2016-04-12

Dedication

In memory of William (Bill) Goodbody, a dear friend who is sorely missed.

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Four

Chapter Forty-Five

Chapter Forty-Six

Chapter Forty-Seven

Chapter Forty-Eight

Chapter Forty-Nine

Chapter Fifty

Chapter Fifty-One

Chapter Fifty-Two

Chapter Fifty-Three

Chapter Fifty-Four

Chapter Fifty-Five

Chapter Fifty-Six

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Keep Reading …

In Conversation with Kitty Neale

About the Author

By the same author

About the Publisher

Prologue

The argument had raged for two days, but the man couldn’t give in – wouldn’t give in. His wife had to agree, and once again he urged, ‘We’ve got to do something. All right, I know they were distant relatives, but it was still a shock to hear they died.’

‘You’ve never mentioned them before.’

He sighed – he’d been through this, told her all this, but nevertheless he tried to remain calm. ‘I told you, I haven’t seen them since my childhood; lost touch with them when my parents died, but nevertheless we’re the only family she has left now.’

‘You’re her only family,’ his wife snapped.

‘Like it or not, by marrying me they became your relatives. If this was someone in your family, I wouldn’t think twice.’

‘That’s easy for you to say, but something like this wouldn’t have happened in my family.’

‘There’s no need for the high and mighty attitude. We’ve no idea what happened to her – how she came to be in such a dreadful place, and I for one am not going to judge her.’

‘I don’t care. I can’t do it. I’ve been unwell and you’re asking too much of me.’

‘And if you expect me to just walk away, you’re asking too much of me. I’d never be able to forgive myself – or you.’

‘Now you’re using emotional blackmail.’

‘If you had an ounce of compassion I wouldn’t need to.’

‘That isn’t fair. I do feel sorry for what happened to her, really I do, but…but…’

The man saw the strain on his wife’s face, but couldn’t stop now. He had to convince her. His voice softened, trying honey this time. ‘I’m sorry, darling, that was cruel of me. Of course you’re compassionate, in fact it’s one of the things I love about you. I think that’s why I’ve been taken aback by your attitude. I somehow thought that, like me, you wouldn’t be able to just walk away.’

‘Please, please, we’ve been arguing about this for so long and my head is splitting. Let me think. I need time to think.’

He could tell she was weakening and felt a surge of triumph – sure that at last, one final push would do it. He stood up, bent to kiss her and before leaving the room said, ‘All right, darling, I’ll leave you to think. You’re a wonderful woman, a kind, caring woman, and I feel sure you’ll come to the right decision.’

It was another two hours before he got his answer. His wife had agreed, but only in part. She’d been adamant, and he’d been unable to bend her any further.

There was only one thing he could do now, but he dreaded it.

Chapter One

Wimbledon, South London, June 1971

It was home, a redbrick facade draped with wisteria, bay windows and an oak front door that appeared welcoming; yet as Jennifer Lavender pulled out her key, she knew there’d be no welcome inside. If her father was at home things would be different, but he was away again, his job often involving long periods of absence.

With a fixed smile on her face, Jenny walked into the drawing room. She had learned to be careful of her mother’s moods, and said quietly, ‘Hello, I’m home.’

‘I can see that,’ Delia Lavender said dismissively before turning her attention back to her son. She was a tall woman, slim, with immaculately groomed auburn hair and hazel eyes that were now showing concern as she asked him, ‘Do you think you can manage to eat something, darling? I could make a shepherd’s pie.’

‘Yes, all right,’ Robin said.

Her brother didn’t look ill to Jenny, but as usual Robin avoided meeting her eyes. At seventeen years old he had the same colouring as their mother. He had come home from college the previous day complaining of a sore throat and headache and as always he was being mollycoddled. At that moment, her mother spoke and Jenny snapped to attention.

‘Don’t just stand there. Get changed and then peel the potatoes.’

Jenny ran upstairs, anxious as ever to please her mother. From an early age she’d been taught to do housework, but it had to be up to her mother’s high standards or she would be made to do it again. Yet no matter how hard she tried, Jenny was aware of the gulf between them, a gulf that widened even further if she showed the least disobedience. It wasn’t that her mother was physically cruel. Her punishments tended to be more mental than physical and worse when there were just the two of them at home. On those occasions, depending on her mother’s mood, Jenny would either be made to scrub the kitchen floor over and over again, or be sent to her room and told to stay there.

At times Jenny felt her mother actually hated her, and for a moment she looked at her reflection in the mirror, wondering what she had done; what it was about her that was so unlovable. At nearly sixteen years old, she favoured her father in looks, yet lacked his height. Her friends told her she was pretty, but all Jenny saw was pale skin, blonde hair and light blue eyes: a face devoid of colour.

She was confused by her brother’s recent attitude towards her too. As small children they had played together and Robin had been the one she ran to when upset. Nowadays though, he had grown as distant as her mother, until Jenny felt as if her presence was unwanted by either of them.

As so often happened, a wave of loneliness washed over her, but it was something Jenny didn’t really understand. She had friends, a family, yet there was this feeling of something missing in her life – something inexplicable.

She heard the telephone ring, followed by the murmur of her mother’s voice. It must have been a short call as only moments later Delia’s voice rang up the stairs. ‘Jennifer, do get a move on!’

‘Coming,’ she called back, hurrying to change out of her school uniform.

‘It’s about time too,’ her mother complained when Jenny appeared.

‘I got good marks in English today,’ Jenny said, hoping to please her mother as she made a start on the potatoes.

‘It’s a bit late to do well now. If you hadn’t failed your eleven plus exam you’d have gone on to grammar school. Instead you’re only destined for some sort of menial work.’

‘I’ve done well at typing and could get a job in an office.’

‘A typist,’ Delia said derisively. ‘That’s hardly something I can brag about at the tennis club.’

Jenny felt the sting of tears. She knew how important appearances were to her mother, how much she valued her social standing, and had always felt the pressure. So much so that when the exam papers had been put in front of her she had frozen, her mind refusing to work.

‘Stop sniffing, it isn’t ladylike. I sometimes regret that we didn’t send you to a private school, but we have enough expense in funding Robin’s education and his is more important.’

‘I’m thirsty,’ Robin said as he walked in to pour himself a glass of water.

‘You should have called me, darling.’

‘Stop fussing, Mother, there’s nothing wrong with my legs,’ he said, gulping the water and then asking, ‘Who was that on the telephone?’

‘Your father. He’ll be home this weekend.’

‘When is he arriving?’ Jenny asked eagerly.

‘Either late tonight or early tomorrow morning.’

Jenny’s unhappiness faded to be replaced with joy. Her daddy would be home soon and she couldn’t wait to see him.

Edward Lavender’s eyes were rimmed with tiredness, the strain of such a long drive showing as he at last pulled into the drive. It was after eleven, but the light was on in the drawing room so he knew that Delia was still up.

It had taken a long time to set up another branch for the insurance company he worked for, to get a decent manager and sales team in place. Eight weeks away from home…yet he wasn’t looking forward to seeing his wife.

Their marriage had been fine at first, a son born on their third wedding anniversary, but eighteen months later, from the moment Jennifer had been placed in Delia’s arms, she had changed from a loving wife to a highly strung, moody and demanding one.

Delia now bore no resemblance to the young woman he’d fallen in love with, one who had lost her parents and seemed so vulnerable, so alone when they met. She’d had money though, and they had used her inheritance to buy their first house, but Edward had worked like a dog since then to provide all she wanted, gaining promotion after promotion until they were able to purchase one bigger house after another, until Delia was finally satisfied. It was large, detached – perfect, she said. Yet it wasn’t a home, it was a showplace, with never a thing out of place or a smidgen of dust to be seen anywhere.

There had been times when Edward had been tempted to walk out on Delia, yet he could never leave his children, especially Jenny. Instead he found his needs elsewhere, brief encounters that he now paid for. It was less complicated that way.

Edward climbed out of the car and stretched his cramped muscles. He knew there would be a cold atmosphere to greet him, but nevertheless he made an effort, saying pleasantly as he went into the drawing room, ‘Hello, my dear.’

‘So you’re back. I wasn’t really expecting you until morning.’

‘I made good time and it was pointless stopping somewhere overnight when I was so close to home.’

‘I hope you’re not expecting dinner at this time of night.’

‘Just a sandwich will do, and perhaps a cup of cocoa.’

Delia exhaled loudly, showing her exasperation, but nevertheless went to the kitchen. Edward had barely sat down when his daughter rushed in, her face alight with happiness.

‘Daddy, Daddy!’

‘Hello, darling,’ he said, rising quickly and hugging Jenny to him, thinking as always that she made coming home worthwhile. He’d get some sort of welcome from Robin, but his son was now a product of his mother, his manner tightly reserved. Thankfully, however, Robin showed no sign of Delia’s so-called nerves, a condition Edward suspected his wife feigned to get her own way.

‘How long will you be here?’ Jenny asked eagerly.

‘Just for the weekend, I’m afraid.’

‘Jennifer, what are you doing up at this time of night?’ Delia asked sharply as she stormed into the room.

‘I was excited that Daddy was coming home and couldn’t sleep.’

‘Go back to bed, now!’

‘Jenny, do as your mother says,’ Edward urged softly. ‘I’ll still be here in the morning.’

For just a brief moment Jenny looked mutinous, but then she nodded. ‘All right. Good night, Dad.’

‘Good night, darling.’

Delia just stood there, tight-lipped, but when Jenny left the room she swung round too, heading back to the kitchen. Edward knew what this meant – another row – and once again he regretted coming home.

Delia slammed a small saucepan of milk onto the cooker. It was always the same. Edward had arrived home after two months away, but he was no sooner in the door than Jennifer got his attention and affection. She would punish him, Delia decided, just as she’d always punished him; something she had sworn to do from the moment another baby had been forced upon her. She didn’t want another child and Edward had known that.

She fought to regain her poise as she took a loaf of bread, cutting two slices, but her mind still raged. Oh, she had tried to love Jennifer, but her resentment had been strong, so was it any wonder that the maternal instincts she had felt for Robin had been absent from the start?

Of course it hadn’t helped that Jennifer had been a difficult and demanding baby, taking up so much of her time that she had felt she was neglecting her son. Then, at eighteen months old, Robin had been walking, a little unsteady on his feet, and into everything. He had needed her attention but, with the new burden of Jennifer and the demands of keeping up with the housework, it was something she’d no longer had time to give him. Of course she had made up for it since, her son developing into a wonderful young man who would go far, but Edward would continue to pay dearly for causing his early neglect and her own unhappiness.

‘Thank you, dear, and I can see you’re pleased to see me as usual,’ Edward drawled sarcastically when she took a tray through to the drawing room.

‘What do you expect? Unlike Jennifer, I didn’t even get a kiss on the cheek.’

‘Had I tried, you’d have rebuffed me as usual.’

‘You don’t know that.’

‘Delia, I’m not playing your games. You’re fond of giving me hope, but then withdrawing it. I’m not falling for it again. I’m content with the wonderful welcome I received from Jenny.’

‘Yes, I’m sure you are. As always, you put her before me.’

‘For goodness’ sake, Delia, this jealousy is ridiculous. Is it any wonder that Jenny runs to me for affection? She certainly doesn’t get any from you!’

‘I am not jealous. As for my lack of affection, you’re to blame for that.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Delia.’

Delia knew she was fighting a losing battle; Edward was sure to deny it as usual. Still, there was more than one way to skin a cat.

‘How many times do I have to tell you that a jenny is a female donkey? Jennifer, as we christened her, will be sixteen soon, old enough to leave home and it’s time to tell her the truth – though of course not all of it.’

‘No, Delia, I don’t think there is any need.’

‘Of course there is. She has a right to know and if you don’t tell her, I will.’

‘You’ll do no such thing! It’s unnecessary and I won’t stand for it.’

Delia’s jaws ground. Edward didn’t know it, but she wasn’t finished yet and he’d soon find that out. ‘I’m going to bed. Please don’t disturb me when you come up.’

‘Don’t worry, Delia, I know better than to come into your room.’

Without another word, she stalked out. Long ago Edward had given her the power to get her own way and she had made the most of it, insisting on separate bedrooms, among other things. She still had that power and intended to use it.

It was time for the truth to come out – time to stop living in a house of secrets.

Chapter Two

When Robin awoke the next morning, he could hear the sound of raised voices. It was always the same when his father was home, the atmosphere rotten until he left again.

There was a soft tap on his bedroom door and moments later Jenny poked her head into the room, hissing softly, ‘Robin, are you awake?’

‘Yes.’

‘Mummy and Daddy are arguing.’

‘I know.’

‘I heard my name mentioned and think it’s about me. Have I done something to upset her?’

‘I haven’t got a clue. Now just bugger off, Jenny.’

‘But—’

‘Just go!’ Robin snapped, relieved when his sister did as she was told. Yes, his parents were rowing, but it was nothing unusual. He blamed his father for his mother’s unhappiness, and it was odd that they slept in separate rooms. There had to be a reason, a problem, perhaps his father’s, and Robin wondered if it was something that could explain his own disgusting feelings. Had he inherited some sort of deviant sexual tendencies from his father?

Yes, he knew about sex now, but the knowledge brought him agony. What he felt wasn’t right – what he wanted wasn’t right – yet night after night he lay awake, so aware that Jenny was only in the next room. She was his sister, and all he should feel for her was brotherly love, but from the moment he’d seen her small, burgeoning breasts, his feelings had begun to change.

If anyone found out they’d be horrified, sickened, so the only way Robin could deal with it was by pretending indifference, hiding his feelings behind the same facade his mother portrayed. He knew it confused Jenny, probably hurt her, but it was the only way to keep her at a distance – a safe distance.

Despite that, the temptation was always there and Robin knew he couldn’t stand much more. He’d be finished at college next year and hoped to get the A level results he needed to go on to university. He had to be away from this house…away from Jenny.

Annoyed at the interruption when the milkman knocked, Delia impatiently rummaged in her purse, saying as she opened the front door, ‘I think this is the right money, but I hate this new decimal currency. I’ll never get used to it and why we had to change from good old pounds, shillings and pence is beyond me.’

‘That’s what most of my customers say,’ the milkman said. Once satisfied that it was the correct amount, he licked his pencil before ticking off the payment in his book. ‘See you next week, Mrs Lavender.’

Delia barely acknowledged the man before closing the door again. The argument with Edward had been raging for half an hour, yet still the issue was unresolved. She returned to the kitchen, ready to take up where they’d left off, only to be thwarted moments later when Jennifer appeared.

‘Good morning, dear,’ Edward said, smiling warmly at his daughter.

Jennifer went to sit next to him, her manner subdued. ‘Hello, Dad.’

‘Why the long face?’ he asked.

‘I heard you having an argument. Was it about me?’

‘Of course not, and anyway, it was just a heated discussion. Now cheer up. It’s a lovely day and after breakfast I thought we could all go out for a drive.’

‘You can count me out,’ Delia snapped. ‘I haven’t got time for gallivanting. I’ve got housework to do.’

‘Can’t you leave it for once?’

‘No, I can’t. Look at this kitchen, it’s filthy. Jennifer was supposed to have cleaned it, but as you can see it hasn’t been done properly.’

‘Filthy? Delia, it’s immaculate as usual, as is the rest of the house. Come on, let’s all four of us go out together. It’ll make a nice change.’

‘What will make a nice change?’ Robin asked as he walked into the room.

‘Your father wants us all to go out for a drive.’

Robin frowned and then said, ‘No can do, Dad. I’ve missed two days at college and will have to study all weekend to catch up. If I want to pass my A levels next year I’ve got to get my head down.’

‘Why were you home for two days?’ Edward asked.

‘I had a bit of a fever and sore throat, though I’m fine now.’

‘That’s good, but as I’ve been away for a while I’d like to see something of you. Surely you can spare a few hours this morning?’

‘If Robin wants to study it’s to be commended,’ said Delia, ‘and I for one am proud of his dedication.’

‘I’m proud of him too, Delia.’

‘You don’t show it. Jennifer is the only one you praise.’

‘Look, if you two are going to start rowing again, I’m going back to my room.’

‘Don’t be silly, Robin, we aren’t rowing,’ Delia said quickly. ‘Now sit down and I’ll cook breakfast. What would you like?’

‘A boiled egg would be nice.’

‘Yes, I’ll have the same,’ Edward said.

‘Do you want me to help, Mum?’

‘Of course I do, and don’t use that term. It sounds so lower class and goodness knows what my friends would think if they heard you. I’m Mother, or Mummy. Your father may not object to being called Dad, but I have higher standards. Now lay the table and then butter some bread.’

‘Yes, Mummy.’

Delia saw the look Edward threw her, the disapproval in his eyes, but ignored it. Jennifer wasn’t a child and should earn her keep, help around the house and with the laundry, something she insisted on, whether Edward liked it or not. What he’d forced on her all those years ago had ruined their marriage and if it hadn’t been for her need to maintain her social standing she’d have left Edward years ago. Divorce, however, had been unheard of in their social circle and back then the women at the tennis club would have shunned her, let alone the ladies in the Women’s Institute.

And so she had stayed and played her role, but not any more. The time had at last come when she could get rid of Jennifer and she wasn’t going to let Edward stand in her way. She just had to bring up the subject again and this time she would force the issue whether Edward liked it or not.

Edward hated the way Delia spoke to Jenny; how she was often as cold towards their daughter as she was to him. Delia had been a reluctant mother. She had done what was necessary when Jennifer was a baby, saw that she was clean and fed, but that had been all, any shows of affection brief. Jenny had been a beautiful baby, so easy to love, but instead Delia had rejected her.

‘Daddy, will you be home again for my birthday?’ Jenny asked.

‘I’ve got three branch inspections scheduled, but I’ll do my best.’

‘Edward, if you aren’t here,’ Delia warned, ‘I’ll go ahead with what we’ve been discussing without you.’

‘You’ll do no such thing.’

‘If you aren’t here, how are you going to stop me?’

‘Stop you doing what, Mother?’ asked Robin.

Edward found he was holding his breath, but his fear of Delia blurting it out also forced him to a decision. With no guarantee that he’d be home for Jenny’s birthday, Delia might just carry out her threat. He couldn’t risk it. He’d have to tell his daughter now; at least coming from him the blow might be softened.

‘All right, Delia, you’ve got your own way as usual. However, I will be the one to tell her.’

‘When?’

‘After breakfast,’ Edward said, unable to miss the look of triumph that crossed his wife’s face.

‘Dad, are you talking about me?’ Jenny asked.

‘Yes, darling, but don’t look so worried.’

‘Tell me what?’

‘Let’s eat and then we’ll talk,’ he said, glad of even this small delay.

‘Jennifer, do get a move on,’ Delia urged. ‘I want to get this meal over with.’

When his egg was put in front of him, Edward took off the top while his mind searched for the right words – the easiest and gentlest way to tell Jenny. She had always been a daddy’s girl, but what he was being forced to do now could change their relationship for ever. Would he lose his daughter? God, he hoped not.

If he could reveal the whole truth it might help, but Edward knew that was impossible. After all, even Delia wasn’t privy to it and, despite her accusations, she never would be.

Chapter Three

Jenny barely touched her breakfast. The atmosphere was tense, and something was obviously wrong, yet it seemed she hadn’t been the cause of their argument. What was her father going to tell her? She’d known for some time that things weren’t right between her parents, that theirs wasn’t a happy marriage, and now an awful thought crossed Jenny’s mind. Divorce! That must be it. Her parents were getting a divorce.

Jenny looked at Robin, but her brother seemed unconcerned as he mopped up the last of his yolk. Unlike her, Robin seemed unaware of the tension in the air and now pushed back his chair, saying, ‘Right, I’d better get on with some studying.’

‘No, Robin, stay where you are. What I have to say concerns you too.’

Her father’s words added to Jenny’s fear. If Robin was going to be told too it must be a divorce. Her stomach churned. Did it mean her father would move out of the house? Would she see even less of him than she did now? Unable to help it, Jenny blurted out, ‘You’re going to leave, aren’t you? You and Mummy are getting a divorce.’

‘Of course we aren’t,’ her father answered. ‘Whatever gave you that idea?’

‘I…I thought, well, the row…then you saying you were going to tell me something, Robin too.’

‘Yes I am, but it’s got nothing to do with divorce. You see…er…er…’ Edward stammered, running both hands over his face, unable to find the words.

‘Oh, do get on with it, Edward.’

‘I’m doing my best, Delia, but this isn’t easy.’

‘I’ll tell her then.’

‘No, leave this to me,’ he insisted. With a strained look on his face, he turned to Jenny again. ‘I think it might be best if I start at the beginning. You see, many years ago, some distant relatives of mine in Ireland were killed when their cottage caught fire. They left one daughter, er…Mary…and with her parents’ death she was left entirely alone. I was contacted by the home she was placed in, but by the time I got there she had tragically died too.’

‘Oh, Daddy, that’s awful. Was she badly burned?’

‘No, it was nothing like that. Mary was pregnant and died in childbirth.’

For a moment he paused, his eyes pained, but nothing could have prepared Jenny for his next words.

‘She had a baby girl, one who was left without a mother or anyone to care for her. That’s where we stepped in, darling. That baby girl was you and I brought you home. Your mother and I adopted you, made you our own daughter and one whom we love very much.’

Jenny stiffened in shock. Adopted! As she glanced at her mother, the feelings she always had of not being wanted, of something missing in her life, suddenly made sense. She wasn’t her mother! Someone called Mary was her mother, but…but she had died. Jenny’s eyes now darted to her father – but he wasn’t really her father either.

‘What…what happened to my real father?’

‘I’m afraid we don’t know, darling. Mary died without telling anyone his name.’

‘Bloody hell,’ Robin murmured.

‘There’s no need for bad language, Robin,’ came the gentle rebuke.

‘Sorry, Mother, but this has come as a bit of a shock.’

‘I think it’s more of a shock for your sister,’ his father chided.

‘Yes,’ Robin said, smiling now, ‘but Jennifer isn’t really my sister, is she? Just how distant was this relative, Dad?’

‘Mary’s mother was a third cousin on my father’s side of the family.’

‘Wow! That means that Jenny and I are so distantly related that there’s hardly a link at all.’

Jenny’s head was reeling. Robin wasn’t her brother either, instead just a very distant cousin. Not only that, he actually looked pleased about it. She couldn’t stand any more, couldn’t listen to any more, and, flinging back her chair, Jenny fled the room.

Edward reared to his feet.

‘Did you have to be so indelicate, Robin? It was enough for Jenny to take in without you adding to her confusion.’

‘Robin was only trying to make sense of it all, Edward,’ snapped Delia. ‘There’s no need to shout at him.’

‘Didn’t you see his face? He looked delighted to hear that Jenny isn’t his sister.’

‘What do you expect? Robin knows what a trial that girl has been to me.’

‘That girl is our daughter.’

‘I have never accepted her as that.’

‘Yes, you’ve made that obvious. You’ve treated her more like a servant. Nevertheless, legally Jenny is our daughter, our responsibility and this is her home.’

‘For now,’ Delia murmured, her head down as she began to clear the table.

‘I won’t have you driving her out.’

‘What!’ Robin exclaimed. ‘Mother, surely you don’t want Jennifer to leave home?’

‘She’ll be sixteen next month and leaving school soon after to find employment. That makes her perfectly capable of looking after herself.’

‘And just where is she supposed to live?’ Robin asked.

‘She can get one of those bedsit things.’

Robin now reared to his feet too, and Edward witnessed a change in his son. Like a worm turning, he glared at his mother with an expression of disgust.

‘Despite what you say, Mother, from what I’ve seen Jenny has never been a trial to you. She doesn’t deserve this and if you force her out I’m going too.’

Delia’s face was a picture, her expression registering both shock and bewilderment. ‘Don’t be silly, Robin.’

‘Silly, am I? No, I don’t think so. If Jenny leaves just watch me walk out behind her.’ With this threat hanging in the air, Robin stormed from the kitchen.

Delia looked stunned, her jaw agape; before departing the room too, Edward couldn’t stop himself from commenting, ‘Well, Delia, that didn’t go down quite as you expected.’

Jenny was still unable to process her thoughts into coherent order. She had no feelings of self. She wasn’t Jennifer Lavender, daughter of Edward and Delia, but instead her mother had been Irish, and her father unknown. There were so many questions tumbling around in her mind that she felt relieved in a way when the man she had thought of as her father knocked softly on her bedroom door.

‘I’m sorry, Jennifer. That must have been an awful shock for you.’

‘I…I don’t know who I am any more.’

‘You’re still the same person. You’re our little girl, and you’ll always be that.’

‘But I’m not. I…I’m some sort of distant cousin.’

‘No, Jennifer. When we adopted you, your mother and I became your parents.’

‘I’ve always known that Mummy…no, Delia…has never really loved me. I thought it was me, that I’m unlovable, but now…What was she like, Dad?’

‘Your mother had a difficult birth with Robin and it took her a long time to recover, but she was as keen as me to adopt you.’

‘I’m not talking about her. I meant my real mother.’

‘Oh, I see. Well, darling, I’m afraid there’s very little I can tell you. As I said, they were very distant relatives and I hadn’t seen them since my childhood. I…I never saw their daughter, Mary.’

Jenny felt a sudden pull to Ireland, a need to see what it was like, where her mother had lived. At that instant, she vowed that one day she’d go there.

‘What was her last name?’

‘Murphy. She was Mary Ann Murphy.’

‘It…it’s a lovely name, I like it. So my name should really be Jennifer Murphy.’

‘Oh, sweetheart, don’t say that. Your mother and I chose the name Jennifer, and as we legally adopted you, your name is Jennifer Lavender.’

‘You…you said that you were the only family she had left. Does that mean I haven’t got any relatives at all in Ireland? Isn’t there anyone who could tell me more about my real mother?’

‘I’m afraid not, darling.’

‘You also said she didn’t name my father, but I don’t understand. Why didn’t they know who he was? Why didn’t he claim me?’

There was a pause, a sigh, and then he said, ‘Jennifer, the home your mother was placed in was one for unmarried mothers.’

‘Unmarried!’ Jenny gasped. Earlier, when told that she was adopted, her mind had almost frozen, but now the truth sank in. ‘That…that means I…I’m a basta—’

‘Don’t say it,’ her father quickly interrupted. ‘We have no idea what Mary went through, how she ended up in such a place, but one thing I’m sure of – had she lived, your mother would have loved you very much.’

Tears came then and began to run unchecked down Jenny’s cheeks. She had never known a mother’s love. All she had ever known was rejection, a feeling of being unwanted and in the way. She felt the bed dip as her father sat down next to her, and though he wasn’t her real father Jenny had always felt close to him – always felt that at least he loved her. His arms reached out to her and, sobbing, Jenny fell into them.

Chapter Four

Robin knew Jenny was upset, but he was over the moon at the news that she was adopted. Jenny wasn’t his sister, she was only a very distant cousin, and it meant that what he felt for her wasn’t wrong, incestuous or sick.

Relief had flooded through him when he had heard, but Robin could have kicked himself for allowing his pleasure to show. Was it any wonder that Jenny had looked stricken as she fled the room? Yet what followed her departure had left Robin stunned. His mother’s callousness had shocked him and the last thing he wanted was for Jenny to leave home. He just hoped that his threat to do the same would work.

Robin knew he had to speak to Jenny, to find an excuse for his behaviour. He couldn’t tell her the truth yet. It would shock her; maybe frighten her off, so for now he would have to tread softly.

It was some time before Robin came up with something that might sound convincing. The timing was a bit out but, hopefully, with the shock of what she’d been told, Jenny wouldn’t remember.

At last Robin heard his father going back downstairs. He went along to Jenny’s room, asking as he opened the door, ‘Can I come in?’

Her face was blotchy from crying, but thankfully she nodded.

‘Jenny, I know I looked pleased when Dad told us you’re adopted, but I think you got hold of the wrong end of the stick.’

‘You were pleased.’

‘No, Jenny. It was more relief than pleasure.’

‘Relief? Why?’

‘I’ve seen how unhappy Mother has been, heard the rows, and I thought Dad was going to tell us they’re getting a divorce.’

‘Yes, I thought the same at first. So you aren’t pleased that I’m adopted?’

‘Why should I be? After all, it won’t make any difference and doesn’t change anything. They’re legally as much your parents as they are mine and our lives will go on as normal.’

‘Yes, for you, but my life in this house has never been normal.’

‘I know Mother can be difficult,’ Robin placated, ‘but she suffers with her nerves, gets depressed, and you have to make allowances.’

‘Since you started college, you’ve been as bad, hardly speaking to me, shutting me out.’

‘Have I? I didn’t realise,’ Robin lied, unable to come up with a better excuse quickly enough. ‘I’ve been hard at it, Jenny, keen to get good exam results for university.’

‘If you say so. But please, my head is splitting and I want to be on my own for a while.’

‘All right, but if you need me I’ll be in my room,’ Robin said, hoping he had done enough to cover his behaviour.

Robin had always known his mother didn’t show Jenny much affection, and the fact that she was adopted now explained it. He was simply happy that he no longer had to think of Jenny as his sister, and went back to his studies with a smile on his face.

Delia’s mind was raging. Edward was right; Robin turning on her like that was indeed the last thing she’d expected. She and her son shared a special bond, one that didn’t include Jennifer, so why he had acted like that on the girl’s behalf was beyond her comprehension. She had planned this moment for so long, a time when she could finally get rid of Jennifer, but instead she now stood to lose her son too. No, no, that couldn’t happen. Yes, she would miss Robin when he went to university next year, but they wouldn’t have been estranged. He would come home every weekend and that would have fitted perfectly into her plans, but now…

Oh, that girl. As usual Jennifer had spoiled everything, forced her to rethink, and Delia began to quietly fume. She had to do something to bring Robin round…but what?

At last, though she was unhappy about it, by the time Edward had come back downstairs, Delia had decided what she had to do. If she didn’t want to lose Robin it was her only choice – but one day, no matter what, she would make Edward pay for this.

Jenny stayed in her room for over an hour, trying to come to terms with the fact that she’d been adopted. She would never think of Delia as her real mother again, but Jenny couldn’t feel the same about her father, and was deeply upset that she wasn’t really his daughter. Edward loved her, she was sure of it, really loved her, and though they were only distantly related, at least that was some kind of link.

She clutched her pillow, trying to imagine what her real mother had been like, what her own life would have been like had she lived. It was half an hour later when thirst drove Jenny out of her room, only to find that Robin was leaving his at the same time.

‘Hi, Jen, how are you feeling now?’

‘I was just going to get a glass of water,’ she said. Robin walked behind her as she went downstairs.

‘Jennifer, there you are,’ Delia said, smiling warmly. ‘I know you’ve had a dreadful shock and I felt it best to leave you alone for a while. Are you feeling a little better now?’

‘Er…yes,’ Jenny said as she poured a glass of water and gulped it down. Delia was being nice, but as usual she was modifying her behaviour because Robin was around. However, she got a shock when he spoke.

‘Mother, don’t pretend that you care about Jenny’s feelings.’

‘But I do…’

‘You could have fooled me,’ he said.

Jenny had no idea what had caused Robin to turn on his mother, and feared being blamed for it, but then her father came in from the garden, smiling when he saw her.

‘Jenny, I was about to see if I could persuade you to come downstairs.’

‘I was too,’ Delia said. ‘I wanted to talk to you, Jennifer, to assure you that though you now know you’re adopted, it won’t make any difference. We are still your parents and this is your home.’

Robin made a snorting sound and left the room, leaving Jenny still feeling bewildered at his sudden change of attitude towards his mother.

Delia continued to be pleasant for the rest of the day, yet it didn’t fool Jenny and she guessed it was her usual act put on for Robin and her father’s sake. She avoided being alone with her, keeping close to her father; dreading him leaving when the weekend was over.

Chapter Five

All too soon it was Monday morning, and Jenny woke early. Her father would be leaving shortly and she was already close to tears. He might not have been her real father, but she loved him dearly and treasured the closeness they shared. She dressed hurriedly and crept downstairs.

‘I might have guessed,’ Edward said, smiling. ‘It’s so early, but here you are, the only one up to see me off.’

‘I wish you didn’t have to go.’

‘So do I, darling,’ he said, rising to his feet and hugging her. ‘I know it’s been a difficult weekend for you, but I promise that, no matter what, I’ll be back for your birthday.’

Jenny didn’t want him to go and clung to him. Her birthday was on the seventeenth of July, in about five weeks, but to her it felt more like five years as he pulled away. She watched, fighting tears as he picked up his briefcase, and then, with a quick kiss on her cheek and a whispered goodbye, he was gone.

Delia was annoyed to be disturbed by the sound of Jennifer getting up to see her father off at the crack of dawn. As far as Delia was concerned, she was glad that Edward was leaving. After all, it was Jennifer who got all his attention when he was here. To punish him she decided she would remain in bed.

She was still angry at being unable to get rid of Jennifer as planned, and at a loss to understand her son’s change of allegiance. One minute Robin had been on her side, happy to leave Jennifer out in the cold, but then, at the mere mention of her moving into a bedsit, he had turned. Delia had been kind to Jennifer all weekend but it hadn’t helped, and Robin was still giving her the cold shoulder.

Still puzzled by her son’s behaviour, Delia continued to mull on it, wondering if it was sympathy that Robin had felt for Jennifer. Perhaps her son was soft and more like his father than she had realised. If that was the case, the only way to get Robin back on her side would be to turn the tables and become the damsel in distress.

With an idea coming to mind, Delia pondered on it. Robin was no longer a child; he was a young man and surely old enough to be spoken to as an adult. Yes, of course he was, though she daren’t tell him everything.

At last, satisfied that what she’d come up with could work, Delia managed to doze off again until her alarm sounded at seven. She then got up to follow her usual routine. There would be no making an appearance downstairs until she was bathed, dressed, her make-up applied and hair immaculately in place. It was a standard that had been set by her late mother, one Delia always adhered too, and she ensured that both Robin and Jennifer followed her example.

Ready now, Delia went along to her son’s room. Opening the door, she called, ‘Robin, it’s time to get up.’

‘Yes, I know. I’m awake.’

Delia was surprised. Robin was usually difficult to rouse, the last one to make an appearance every morning, but for once he sounded fully awake and alert. She wanted to speak to him out of Jennifer’s hearing and now made the most of this opportunity.

‘Robin, I’m so unhappy and desperately need to talk to you.’

‘Not now, Mother.’

‘Please, Robin, it won’t take long. It’s just that I need to get this off my chest.’

‘Can’t it wait until we’re downstairs?’

‘No, darling, I’m afraid it can’t,’ Delia said, moving further into the room to sit at Robin’s desk. Books were strewn over it, some still open, notes written, some crumbled up and tossed aside, but for once Delia’s fastidiousness was put to one side as she composed her face to one of sadness. ‘Robin, I was against adopting Jenny, but your father virtually forced me into it.’

‘From what he said, we were her only family.’

‘We were so distantly connected that I’d hardly call us that. Your father hadn’t seen them since his childhood, so of course I had never met them. We already had you, and with so many childless couples desperate to adopt, I felt it would be kinder if Jennifer went to one of them. Your father didn’t agree and I suppose I was full of resentment, but despite that I did my best when we adopted Jennifer and grew fond of her. I tried to love her, really I did, but she was such a difficult baby and I’m afraid one can’t love to order.’

‘I don’t remember her being difficult.’

‘You wouldn’t, darling. You were just a toddler then,’ Delia said, forcing tears into her eyes as she changed the subject. ‘Oh, Robin, a few months ago it was my fortieth birthday and all I’ve ever been is a wife and mother. With you leaving home to go to university next year and Jennifer almost grown up too, I’ve been feeling lost, as though I won’t have a role any more. I’ll be redundant as a mother, with nothing to do but rattle around in this large, empty house.’

For a moment Robin looked a little sympathetic, but then said, ‘If that’s the case and you’re fond of Jenny, why would you want her to leave home too?’

‘All right, I’ll try to explain. As I said, I was beginning to feel lost, but then a woman at the tennis club, Marcia Bateman, made me look at things differently. When Marcia’s children left the nest she saw it as her time, a chance to be something more than just a wife and mother. She studied interior design and then started up a very successful business. I admire Marcia, and it made me realise that when you go to university there’s nothing to stop me from doing something similar.’ Delia paused to bite her lip, eyes lowered for effect.

‘Yes, well, I suppose you could.’

‘Robin, there’s a lot of work involved in setting up a new business, and though this is going to sound dreadful, in truth I wanted the freedom to work as many hours as necessary without feeling I have to rush home to look after Jennifer. It was selfish of me and I realise that now. Until Jennifer is older this will remain her home, and I’ll just have to rethink my business plan.’

At last Robin smiled. ‘If that’s the case I’d hardly call you selfish, but I don’t think you need to change your plans. Jenny will be at work too, and she’s quite capable of looking after herself until you come home. Now, why don’t you tell me about this business venture?

‘With so many large houses in this area needing domestic staff, I’m thinking of setting up an agency to provide them, along with catering services. However, I’m not going to do anything until you leave for university, and so for now I’d rather you didn’t mention my ideas to your father.’

‘Why? Do you think he’ll be against it?’

‘Yes, I do. You see your father wasn’t well off when we married and I had to use my inheritance to buy our first house.’

‘I didn’t know that. I knew he’d lost his parents during the war and was brought up by his aunt, but I still don’t see why he’d be against you starting up a business.’

‘Your father is old-fashioned and I think it wounded his pride when I paid for our first home. So much so that from then on he insisted on being the provider while I stayed at home.’

‘I see, but that was a long time ago and surely he’d feel differently now?’

‘I hope so, because I’d love to be a successful businesswoman like Marcia.’

‘And I’m sure you will.’

‘I doubt your father thinks I’m capable of anything other than being a housewife, and oh, Robin, what if I fail?’ Delia cried, pulling out her handkerchief and pretending to dab tears from her eyes. ‘What if I prove him right?’

‘Please, Mummy, don’t get upset. I’m sure you’ll be fine, but if you want to chew your idea over with me, perhaps go over the setting-up costs and things like that, I’d be happy to help. I’ve no experience in such things, but as I’m going to study economics at university at least I’m good with figures. I should be able to work out the initial costs and even some profit projections.’

‘Robin, that would be wonderful…but I don’t want to take you away from your studies.’

‘I’ve caught up now. Actually, it would make a marvellous project and something I’d look forward to getting my teeth into. How about we make a start this coming weekend?’

‘Yes, I’d like that, but for now I’d better leave you to get ready for college,’ Delia said, smiling as she left her son’s room. Robin had been sympathetic, had offered to help, and that was a start.

Jenny had been sitting alone, still upset at her father’s departure. Even though he’d promised to come home for her birthday, she guessed that it would only be for a weekend again. His job involved a lot of travelling, but now Jenny wondered if he preferred to be away – if he avoided coming home. Though she didn’t like the thought, deep down Jenny couldn’t blame him: this was an unhappy house, unwelcoming, full of tension, and laughter was a rare thing.

She heard her mother’s footsteps on the stairs and tensed. What sort of mood was she going to be in? Jenny didn’t know if she could bear it if it was a bad one. She felt a longing to escape this house, to run from all the unhappiness contained within these walls and to never come back.

‘Jennifer, I do not appreciate being woken at the crack of dawn.’

‘I…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.’

‘Don’t just sit there, make a fresh pot of tea.’

Jenny did her bidding, relieved when Robin appeared, smiling at her as he said, ‘Morning, Jen.’

‘What would you like for breakfast, darling?’ Delia asked him.

‘How about scrambled eggs on toast?’

‘Would you like the same, Jennifer?’

‘Yes…yes please. Do you want me to make the toast?’

‘Yes, and thank you, dear,’ she said, smiling warmly. ‘I know you’re upset that your father has gone, but I’m sure he’ll keep his promise and be home for your birthday.’

Jenny wasn’t fooled. She knew that this sudden kind manner was all for Robin’s benefit and it seemed to be working as Robin now grinned at his mother and said, ‘When he rings, you’ll just have to nag him, Mother.’

‘Yes, and you can be sure I will.’

Jenny just wanted to get breakfast over with, to go to school and get out of her mother’s way. Twenty minutes later, she picked up her empty plate to take it to the sink.

‘I…I’m off now, but I’ll be a little late home as I have to see the careers adviser after school.’

‘Oh goodness, Jennifer,’ said Delia. ‘I’m so sorry, I’d forgotten. Still, don’t worry, I’ll be there.’

Jenny’s eyes widened with surprise. ‘You’re coming?’

‘Of course I am. This is an important time for you and I want to make sure you’re given the best opportunities for when you leave school.’

‘But…but when I gave you the letter you said that…’

‘I said I would be there,’ Delia interrupted firmly.

Jenny saw the warning look and knew better than to argue, yet she remembered well that when she’d been given the letter, her mother had carelessly thrown it to one side, saying that seeing a careers adviser was a waste of time for someone fit only for menial employment. Now it seemed she had changed her mind…but why? Was it another show put on for Robin’s benefit?

‘Off you go now, or you’ll be late for school,’ her mother now said, and though her voice sounded soft, there was hardness in her eyes.

‘Yes, all right. Bye,’ Jenny croaked.

‘See you later, Jen,’ Robin called, clearly oblivious to the undertones.

Jenny hurried out, just wanting to be away from the house, her mother, and wishing she never had to come back.

Chapter Six

When Jenny left, Robin lingered at the table, his eyes on his mother. He could understand why she wanted to start up a business, to achieve something in her own right, but there was something in her explanation of not wanting to neglect Jenny that hadn’t rung true.

As a small child he’d taken his mother’s love and affection for granted, had hardly questioned why Jenny had been left out in the cold. His mother favoured him, while his father favoured Jenny, and he’d assumed it was the same in all households. Of course it wasn’t, and he had eventually learned that, but at least now he knew why. Jenny was adopted, and because of her resentment his mother had been unable to love her. Robin felt he could understand that, and at least his mother had said she was fond of Jenny, though she hardly showed it.

‘Robin, if you don’t get a move on you’ll be late too.’

‘I’ll be off in a minute,’ he said. ‘I’ll be interested to hear how Jenny got on with the careers adviser when I come home.’

‘I intend to see that she’s given the best advice but, let’s face it, Jennifer has never been as bright as you. Nonetheless, I’d like to see her with some sort of career, and I’ll make sure she isn’t fobbed off with some sort of dead-end job.’

‘Jobs that offer a career usually start out with low pay.’

‘If she’s given the opportunity for advancement, the opening salary is irrelevant. After all, living at home, Jennifer won’t have to worry about her earnings.’

‘Right, I’d best be off,’ Robin said, relieved that it was likely that Jenny wouldn’t be earning enough to leave home for some time yet.

‘Bye, darling,’ Delia called.

Robin happily went off to college, content in the knowledge that Jenny would still be there, at least until he hopefully left for university next year. A year, Robin thought. He’d leave it for a year, but then he’d make his move.

Jenny had left Castle Close, hoping to meet up with Tina Hammond on the way to school. She knew her mother disapproved of their friendship, and she wasn’t allowed to invite Tina to the house, but nevertheless they remained constant friends, albeit behind Delia’s back. Jenny preferred to have one special friend, a best friend rather than a group, and Tina partly fulfilled something she felt missing in her life – a sort of kinship. Though they occasionally chatted to other girls, for the most part the two of them were inseparable. Physically, they were very different, Jenny blonde and pale, Tina dark, her eyes brown and her skin olive toned. They both wanted to swap their colouring for each other’s, and had laughed when they had first found this out.

Tina and her family lived in Princes Way, an area that had changed so radically in recent years that it had become something else for her mother to carp about. It had started with the building of a block of council flats, and had progressed to the development of what were now purpose-built estates of houses and maisonettes. A few large houses remained, set behind high walls, and though their proximity to Wimbledon Common still made them desirable, her mother said that because they were now surrounded by council property, they had depreciated greatly in value.

Tina’s family didn’t own one of these big houses. They rented a council flat and of course Jenny knew this was why her mother disapproved of their friendship. Unlike them, the Hammonds weren’t well off, but Jenny hated her mother’s snobbishness and would have swapped places with her friend like a shot. Tina’s mum was kind, didn’t suffer from nerves and wasn’t obsessed with housework. She was a short, tubby woman who was full of laughter, her welcome always so warm that over the years Jenny had often found the cramped flat a much-needed escape from the coldness of her own home life.

‘Jenny! Jenny, over here!’

Jenny dashed across the road to join her friend.

‘Where have you been?’ asked Tina. ‘I waited in on Saturday but you didn’t come round.’

‘I’m sorry, but my father came home for the weekend.’

‘That explains it then. Thankfully mine didn’t show his face.’

‘What do you mean? Your dad’s nice,’ Jenny protested. Tina’s father was a long-distance lorry driver who was rarely in when she called round, but from what she’d seen he was full of affection for both Tina and her older sister.

‘Huh, so he’s fooled you too. Oh, I don’t want to talk about my dad. Change the subject, Jenny.’

Jenny was puzzled, but nevertheless did as Tina asked. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t come round, but you didn’t wait in all day for me, did you?’

‘No, I gave up by one o’clock and went to buy a new record. T-Rex has got two in the charts now, but I only had enough money for one. Ooh, I just love Marc Bolan.’

‘Yes, I know,’ Jenny said, smiling ruefully. ‘You hardly talk about anything else.’

‘Well, he is gorgeous.’

Jenny wasn’t going to argue. Tina was absolutely mad about Marc Bolan and her bedroom walls were festooned with his posters. However, even had Jenny had an idol, she would never have been allowed to decorate her room with pictures of them. It was another thing that emphasised the many differences between Tina’s home life and her own.

‘I got a shock this morning,’ Jenny said. ‘My mother’s coming with me to see the careers adviser.’

‘Is she? Mine isn’t.’

This was the last thing Jenny expected to hear. ‘I thought your mummy would insist on being there.’

‘Mummy! Gawd, you’d think I’d be used to the way you talk by now, but sometimes it still sounds so funny and posh. Anyway, as for my mum, all she did was to offer a bit of advice. She said to forget Germaine Greer and the feminist movement because it’s all nonsense. Instead I should take anything on offer with decent pay and it’ll do until the right man comes along.’

‘And will you?’

‘I’ll take anything that pays well, but not for those reasons. What about you? What sort of job are you looking for?’

‘I’m not sure, but one day I’d like to earn enough money to rent a place of my own.’

‘Do you really mean that, Jen? If you do, I wouldn’t mind sharing it with you.’

‘Why would you want to leave home?’

‘’Cos my sister’s said she’s moving out soon. That’ll just leave me for him to start on.’

Jenny didn’t have a clue what Tina was talking about and asked, ‘Who’ll start on you? And start what?’

‘I…I can’t tell you. He…he’ll kill me.’

‘Tina, I’m your friend, your best friend, and there’s nothing you can’t tell me. If you want me to keep it to myself, I will, and you know that.’

At these words, as though a dam had burst, Tina haltingly told her. Jenny’s stomach lurched in horror. She had envied her friend, had thought of her home as a haven, but now realised it was all an illusion. It was horrific to hear, dreadful, and as Tina continued to talk, Jenny felt the last vestiges of her childhood, of her innocence, being stripped away.

‘Oh, Tina, we’ve been friends for all this time and I had no idea. Why didn’t you tell me before?’

‘Because the sick thing is, I grew up thinking it’s normal, something that all dads do to their daughters. By the time I realised it wasn’t, I was too scared of me dad to open me mouth. Oh Gawd, Jen, I shouldn’t have told you. Don’t tell anyone! Promise me you won’t tell anyone!’

Jenny’s heart went out to Tina and she reached out to clutch her friend’s hand. ‘I promise, but surely there’s something you and Mandy can do to stop him? Why don’t you tell the police?’

‘He’d deny it and he’s clever. He’s made sure there’s no proof.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘He hasn’t, you know…gone all the way. He…he makes us use our mouths.’

‘But what about your mum? Haven’t you told her?’

‘Jenny,’ Tina said, her voice strangled with pain. ‘She already knows.’

Bile rose in Jenny’s throat. How could she? How could Tina’s mother allow it to happen?

‘If Mandy’s moving out, why don’t you go with her?’

‘I asked, begged, but she won’t take me. She wants to start a new life, to forget, and said I’d just be a constant reminder.’

‘I can’t believe she’s leaving you behind,’ Jenny said angrily, her mind turning. ‘But listen, you could still leave home.’

‘My dad won’t let me. Even if I wait until he’s away my mum would stop me. I’d have to do a runner.’

‘You’ll be sixteen soon and then they can’t stop you. Anyway, just let them try,’ Jenny said, ready to fight for her friend. It was as though her fear for Tina had brought about a change in her personality. Instead of her customary meekness she now felt strength, along with determination. Somehow she’d help her friend to get away.

‘I wish I could leave, Jenny, but where would I live? At sixteen I’d only earn peanuts and I don’t know how much it costs to rent a bedsit. I suppose I could try getting into an empty place, you know, a squat, but I…I’d be scared to do something like that on me own.’

Jenny knew what she had to do. She hadn’t suffered like Tina, but she was unhappy at home and wanted to get away too.

‘You won’t be alone, Tina. I’m coming with you. With two wage packets we’re bound to be able to afford a bedsit.’

‘Oh, Jenny, do you really mean it?’

‘Of course I do,’ Jenny insisted. Yes, they’d get away; start a new life, one that they’d be in charge of. From then on, nobody, neither man nor woman, was going to mess with them again – not with their minds, or their bodies.

Chapter Seven

That afternoon, Delia dressed carefully in a navy blue designer suit, and then put on her diamond stud earrings. She had never shown any interest in Jennifer’s education before and had no idea what the girl was capable of, but now, to placate her son, she knew that getting rid of Jennifer would have to be delayed. It was something she hadn’t anticipated, and for that reason Delia dressed to impress. Appearances mattered, and she wanted to show this careers adviser that the girl came from a good home, a superior family, and was therefore not suited to some sort of menial work. If she could persuade the man to place Jennifer in an office, if only on the first rung of some sort of career, it would at least be something she wouldn’t be ashamed to tell her acquaintances at the WI and tennis club.

Delia picked up her leather handbag, knowing that within Robin’s hearing she would have to continue to be nice to Jennifer. She would have to wait, keep up the act, but when the time was right she’d strike. Of course it would have to appear that she’d played no part in it, that Jennifer left of her own accord; but this time, no matter what, she wouldn’t be thwarted.

It was a lovely day and rather than get her car out of the garage Delia decided to walk. As she left the drive a vehicle pulled up and she saw a fellow member of the WI behind the wheel.

‘Mrs Lavender, Delia, I can see you’re on your way out, but I’m glad I caught you,’ Penelope Grainger said as she wound down her window. ‘As you know we’re having a fundraiser next week, but Mrs Brunswick has had to bow out. Could I put you down to take her place on the cake stall?’

‘Yes, of course,’ nodded Delia.

‘Will you still be contributing some of your lovely walnut cakes? They always go down so well.’

‘Yes, I’m making a half a dozen.’

‘Wonderful, but I must go. You know how it is, things to do and all that.’

‘Yes, I know what you mean. I’m just on my way to my daughter’s school.’

‘Oh dear, is there a problem?’

‘No, it’s an appointment with a careers adviser.’

‘My daughter, Fiona, was determined to follow her father into medicine, and though it’s jolly hard work, she loves it. Does your daughter have a career in mind?’

Delia swallowed, once again cursing the fact that she had no idea what Jennifer was capable of. Penelope Grainger’s husband was a consultant, and her daughter had attended a private school. In fact, other than seeing the woman at WI meetings, they didn’t mix socially. Of course in this instance that could work in her favour – hopefully the woman unaware that Jennifer attended a state secondary school. Delia would have given anything to join Penelope’s social circle, but her aspirations had come to nothing as yet.

‘I think she’s interested in law,’ Delia lied, ‘but if you’ll excuse me I really must go now.’

‘Righto, I’ll see you next week,’ Penelope said, giving a small wave before driving off.

Delia glanced at her watch. Only a few minutes had passed and she still had plenty of time, but nevertheless her pace was brisk as she continued her journey. Law! It had been the only thing that had popped into her head, and now sounded idiotic, especially as she doubted if Jennifer was capable of anything other than cleaning the chambers.

Jenny and Tina were waiting to see the careers adviser when Tina hissed, ‘Jenny, I know you said my parents can’t stop me, but when we leave I’m still gonna do a runner.’

‘All right, but we’ll need to find a bedsit. Have you got an area in mind?’

‘Not really, but somewhere that’s got a bit of life. How about Chelsea?’

‘It isn’t a huge distance away, but if you want to move there it’s fine with me.’

There was silence for a moment, then Tina said sadly, ‘It’ll be ages before we can save enough to leave. Any landlord will want about a month’s rent in advance, but my mum will want me to stump up at least half of what I earn.’

‘Tina, we’ll look for somewhere to live as soon as term’s over – we’ve got to get you away from your father as soon as possible. Thanks to my dad I’ve got some savings, enough to pay the rent for at least a month, maybe more. Mind you, if you still want to do a runner, you’ll have to pretend that nothing has changed until we leave. If the careers adviser arranges a job interview then go, otherwise your parents will guess that something’s up.’

‘Yeah, good thinking,’ Tina agreed. ‘As for the rent, I’ll pay you back as soon as I can, honest I will.’

‘Don’t worry about it. You’re my best friend, and that’s what matters, not money.’

‘You’re more than a friend to me, Jenny. You’re more like a sister, and a better one than Mandy.’

Jenny felt a surge of pleasure. It was nice to think that Tina saw them as sisters.

‘Jennifer, there you are,’ her mother said as she walked up to them, looking immaculate but slightly harassed. ‘I was held up twice but thankfully it seems I’ve arrived in time.’

‘I haven’t been in yet, but I’m next.’

‘Please have the courtesy to move along so I can sit down,’ her mother then said, looking haughtily at Tina.

As the door opened beside her and a girl came out, Jenny reared to her feet and said sharply, ‘There’s no need to sit down, Mother. It’s my turn now.’

‘Very well, come on then, let’s get this over with.’

‘Good luck, Jenny.’

‘Thanks, Tina,’ Jenny said, ignoring her mother’s disapproving look as they walked in to see the careers adviser.

Delia looked disdainfully at the weedy little man behind his desk. When invited to sit down, she inspected the chair before flicking it fastidiously with her handkerchief.

The man didn’t seem intimidated by her actions. With a pair of round glasses perched on the end of his nose, he perused a folder in front of him until they were both seated. When he did finally look up, his eyes went to Jennifer, his smile warm.

‘I see from this report that your work has been exceptional, with standards that your teachers feel would have been good enough for grammar school.’

‘As she failed her eleven plus, I don’t see how,’ Delia said huffily.

‘There are many intelligent children who fail the examination for one reason or another, and from this report it seems your daughter may well have been one of them.’

‘Well, yes, I always knew she was bright,’ Delia blustered now, blushing at the lie.

The man ignored her reply, instead pulling a card from an index file and focusing on Jennifer again. ‘With your knowledge and interest in literature, I think I have a position that may appeal to you.’

Delia was startled. This was news to her, but then again she had barely looked at Jennifer’s school reports.

‘What sort of position?’ she asked abruptly.

‘It’s in local government, as a local junior librarian.’

‘Surely she needs qualifications?’

‘The CILIP, that is the Chartered Institute of Libraries and Information Professionals, offer rewards for in-house experience and with training they can offer certification. This of course can eventually lead to managerial advancement, or work in other important sectors, such as museums, archives—’

Impatiently Delia interrupted the man, ‘Yes, yes, I understand, but do you really think Jennifer has a chance of obtaining the position?’

‘Yes, I do,’ he said abruptly. ‘However, it depends of course on whether your daughter is interested in this kind of work.’

Delia was annoyed to see that Jennifer was just staring at the man, her mouth agape. Far from appearing bright, the girl looked like an imbecile, and Delia snapped, ‘For goodness’ sake, Jennifer, buck up and answer the man.’

‘I…I’m sorry. It…it’s just so unexpected…but yes, I’d love to train as a librarian. It would be like a dream come true.’

‘Very well, I’ll arrange an interview and you’ll be notified in writing of the date and time.’

Still looking dazed, Jennifer rose to her feet. ‘Tha…thank you.’

‘Yes, thank you,’ Delia echoed, feeling a little heady too as they left the room. She didn’t know what she’d expected; perhaps a junior position in an office at the most, but this outcome was far better. For once, when Delia smiled at Jennifer, it was with genuine warmth.

‘That went well,’ she commented. ‘Now we’ll just have to ensure that you’re successful at the interview.’

Jennifer ignored her, instead turning to talk to Tina, who was waiting her turn, ‘You can go in now. I’ll wait for you.’

‘Great, see you soon,’ the girl said, hurrying in to see the adviser.

Delia was annoyed. Jennifer knew she didn’t approve of Tina Hammond. ‘You’ll do no such thing,’ she said sharply. ‘There’s a stack of ironing waiting for you and you’ll walk home with me.’

‘I’m not a child. I’ve made my way home from school without escort for years so it’s a bit late to start now.’

Delia heard the ring of sarcasm in Jennifer’s tone and bristled, her voice rising. ‘How dare you use that tone with me. Now come on, we’re leaving.’

‘No, Mother. I’ll do the ironing as soon as I get there, but I’ll be walking home with Tina.’

A few heads turned, curious parents looking their way. Aware that they were causing a scene, Delia hissed, ‘Right, I’m going, but I’ll deal with you later and there’ll be more than ironing waiting for you.’

‘Yes, I’m sure there will,’ Jennifer said, sounding, for the first time, unafraid.

Delia couldn’t believe her ears, but she wasn’t going to continue this here. Though she was inwardly fuming, she haughtily walked away, her dignity intact as she left the building. It was as though Jennifer had transformed in front of her eyes, changing from a compliant child who always tried to please to an assured young woman. Not only that, an argumentative one, and Delia knew that unless she could reassert herself, this new development would make living with Jennifer intolerable. It was bad enough that she’d been forced to look at the girl for nearly sixteen years, but at least she had been able to feel that in her coldness towards Jennifer she was punishing Edward too.

As Delia continued on her way home, her mouth was set in a tight line of annoyance. She had wanted rid of Jennifer as soon as possible, had planned for that, but then had been forced to put it off. Now, however, she set her mind to the problem again.

At last, Delia came to realise that she could use this change in Jennifer’s attitude to her advantage. She had told Robin that Jennifer was a difficult baby, but now she could extend that period. If she set the trap carefully and it worked, Robin would see Jennifer in a new light.

Delia expected to find her son home from college, and composed her face to one of sadness in readiness. Her new plan to get rid of Jennifer had to work. She would drive the girl out – but this time Robin wouldn’t threaten to leave home too. He’d be on her side, and Delia looked forward to going into battle now.

Jennifer was no match for her and the girl would soon find that out.

Chapter Eight

Jenny was amazed that she’d stood up to her mother like that, but knew she’d suffer for it later. There’d be more than ironing to face – probably floors to scrub and other menial tasks lined up. Yet as she waited for Tina, she found her thoughts drifting back to her own interview with the careers adviser. If she could have chosen any job, it would have been in a library. She loved books, the smell of them, the feel of them in her hand and the anticipation of being enthralled by a story as she turned the first page. Many had taken her away from her unhappiness at home to another place and sometimes to another time. When would she hear about the interview? Would she be successful? But then Jenny’s bubble burst. A local library, the careers adviser had said, and she now saw the job slipping away. Tina wanted to move out of this area and she’d agreed. Oh, but to work in a library! For a moment Jenny wondered if she should change her mind, stay at home, at least until she’d completed her training.

It didn’t take Jenny long to dismiss the idea. It wasn’t just that she wanted to get away from her mother, there was Tina to consider too. Her friend needed her and she couldn’t let her down.

‘Right, I’m done. Let’s go,’ Tina said.

‘How did you get on?’

‘I was offered a job in a department store and pretended I was keen. What about you?’

‘A trainee librarian.’

‘Blimey, I wouldn’t fancy that. Talk about boring. With your posh voice and typing speeds I’m surprised you weren’t offered something in an office.’

‘It doesn’t matter. We’ll be moving from this area and finding our own jobs.’

‘I know, and I can’t wait,’ Tina said, smiling happily as they left the building.

Jenny felt the same. She knew what would be waiting for her when she arrived home, but the thought of leaving gave her courage. She was sick of being punished for no reason, of being treated like a servant, and now all the years of hurt, of degradation, culminated in Jenny’s mind.

She wouldn’t be meek any more, and her mother was soon going to find that out.

When his mother came in, Robin saw that she was upset, surreptitiously wiping tears from her eyes.

‘Mother, what’s wrong?’

‘Nothing, it’s nothing,’ Delia said.

Robin saw that her hands were shaking, her nerves obviously playing up again, and asked, ‘Has something upset you?’

‘Yes, but it doesn’t matter.’

‘You’re crying, so of course it matters.’

‘Please, Robin, just let it go. You wouldn’t believe me anyway.’

‘Of course I would.’

‘It…it was Jennifer’s behaviour. She was so rude to me and caused a dreadful scene at the careers office.’

‘Jenny! I can’t believe it.’

‘I knew you’d say that,’ Delia cried, tears filling her eyes again.

‘Mother, I’ve never heard Jenny being rude to you.’

‘Of course you haven’t and Jennifer has made sure of that. What with the clubs you joined and now your studies, you’re hardly around to see or hear anything, but let me tell you that since childhood Jennifer had been jealous of you, of my feelings for you. You see me as hard, cold towards her, but to maintain control I’ve had to be.’

‘If that’s the case, why haven’t you said anything before?’

‘I tried to tell your father, but he’d have none of it. In the end I gave up and you were my compensation, but it almost broke my heart when you turned on me too and threatened to leave home.’

Tears fell in earnest now and Robin rushed to his mother’s side, placing an arm around her. He had never seen her as bad as this; her whole body was shaking as she turned into him, sobbing.

‘Take no notice of my threat,’ he said quickly. ‘Of course I’m not leaving home. Well, not until I go to university, but then I’ll be back every weekend.’

‘I can’t tell you how much that means to me…I should be used to Jennifer’s behaviour by now. It…it just became a bit too much for me today, and I feel as though I’m losing control of her. Don’t worry, I…I’m all right now.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, I’m fine,’ Delia said with a brave little smile.

His mother looked so vulnerable and Robin felt awful for threatening to leave home. At least he’d put her mind at rest, yet he was still worried. When his mother had come to his room that morning she’d been a bit tearful, but it had been nothing in comparison to the emotional distress he’d just witnessed.

Robin now began to wonder if she could cope with running a business, with the stress it could cause her, and chewed worriedly on his lower lip. Not only that, he was still unable to believe the things she had said about Jenny. He’d never seen his sister behaving badly, yet something must have caused his mother to break down like this. Usually it happened only when his father was home, the rows affecting her nerves. Maybe that was it – perhaps she was still upset from his latest visit, and that was causing her to magnify things out of all proportion.

Thankfully Robin saw that his mother was looking a little calmer now, but he knew he’d have to keep an eye on her to ensure that she wasn’t unnecessarily distressed. He’d have a word with Jenny when she arrived home, explain things, but if his mother got in such a dreadful state again, perhaps he should persuade her to see a doctor.

Delia moved away from Robin, pleased that things had gone so well. He had looked shocked to see her in such a state, and she was glad of her acting abilities. As a child her own mother had called her a drama queen, saying she was destined for the stage, though of course if Delia had suggested actually ever going to a stage school, both her parents would have been scandalised.

She had loved her calm, staid father, and been heartbroken when he had died suddenly of a heart attack at just fifty. She had been thirteen at the time and her older sister, Beatrice, seventeen. Though Delia had wanted to cling to both her mother and sister, emotions were never displayed and tears never shown in public. They had set her a wonderful example and she had grown up emulating their proud upright and dignified manner.

At twenty, Beatrice had married well to a diplomat who was posted abroad. It had been heartbreaking to see her sister leave, especially when just three years later her mother, also young at forty-six, had become seriously ill. Before her mother had died, she’d encouraged Delia to emulate Beatrice in marrying well. With her sister able to return from abroad only for the funeral, Delia had been left feeling totally alone.

He may not have been perfect, but Delia had married the first man who asked her – Edward. That side of marriage had shocked her, however. She wasn’t used to being held or kissed, and on her wedding night, when things had gone further, she had been horrified. She didn’t like it, found it messy, distasteful, and though she had never wanted to adopt Jennifer, it had at least given her the perfect ammunition to stop much further sexual activity. That, along with her nerves, had ensured that she always managed to get her own way, which was no more than Edward deserved.

Delia expected Jennifer home soon and now turned her mind to her plans. By being rude, by defying her, the stupid girl had played right into her hands. All she had to do now was to lay a trap – and in such a way that it would arouse the same response from Jennifer in Robin’s hearing.

‘That sounds like Jenny coming in,’ he said.

As Robin was still looking at her worriedly, Delia decided there was no time like the present. She pretended to sway a little before sitting down.

‘I feel a little dizzy and my throat is parched,’ she said. As the girl walked into the room she added tremulously, ‘Jennifer, there you are. I’m still upset about your behaviour, but before we talk about it please make me a cup of tea.’

‘You said there’s ironing waiting to be done and as I’m not an octopus, or your servant, you can make your own tea. I’m going upstairs to change.’

‘See, Robin, I told you,’ Delia wailed as Jennifer stalked off. ‘That was nothing in comparison to how she usually talks to me. It’s usually worse than that, much worse.’

‘Please, Mummy, calm down. I’ll make you a drink and then I’ll have a few words to say to Jenny.’

Delia slumped, holding both hands over her face to hide her true feelings. She’d hardly had to make any effort at all before Jennifer had reacted – and in just the way she had wanted.

Jenny was pleased that she’d stood up to her mother again, but had only just changed out of her school clothes when her bedroom door was flung open and Robin stormed into the room.

‘If I hadn’t heard it with my own ears, I’d never have believed it. You were rude to Mother and now she’s in a dreadful state.’

‘I only told her to make her own tea. That’s hardly reason to get into a state.’

‘From what she told me it isn’t the first time you’ve been rude to her. In fact you’ve been making her life hell.’

‘Robin, all I did was to refuse to walk home with her after we’d seen the careers adviser.’

‘There must be more to it than that. Mother is at the end of her tether, her nerves so bad that I fear she might be having a nervous breakdown.’

‘If she is, it’s got nothing to do with me,’ Jenny protested.

‘I doubt that, and from now on I don’t want her upset. I want you to come downstairs and apologise, but be warned, Jenny. If she isn’t better by the time Dad comes home I intend to tell him what you’ve been up to.’

‘But I haven’t been up to anything!’ she called, but Robin had already marched out and her door slammed behind him.

Jenny slumped onto the side of her bed. Today had been the first time she had defied her mother and surely that wasn’t enough to cause a nervous breakdown? She had wanted to stand up for herself, but somehow it had backfired, and instead something was going on – something Jenny couldn’t grasp. She longed to escape all this, but she couldn’t leave home yet, had to wait until she was sixteen, followed by two more weeks at school before the end of term.

Worried and confused by Robin’s threat to tell her father, Jenny realised that her newfound courage had already deserted her.

Chapter Nine

Robin was thankful that an uneasy truce had now been formed. He kept a careful watch on both his mother and Jenny, at first not knowing whom to believe. Jenny insisted that she’d never been rude before, while his mother said the opposite, that it had been going on for years. Jenny said that she had always been treated badly when he wasn’t around, almost like a slave, but his mother again said the opposite.

However, his mother was still a bundle of nerves, so to keep her happy Robin kept his promise, the two of them calculating the starting up costs and profit projections for the new business. He had his concerns, especially about the initial costs, but his mother had told him there was no need to worry – that if her savings were insufficient she would go to the bank for a loan. He didn’t like this idea, suggesting instead that she approached his father for funding, but she would have none of it and, rather than upset her, Robin had said no more.

Five weeks had now passed and he hadn’t heard his mother being anything other than kind to Jenny. On the other hand, though she wasn’t actually rude, Jenny was barely polite. She’d be sixteen tomorrow, and Robin was wrapping her present.

‘I wasn’t sure what to get Jenny for her birthday, so settled on a book as usual. What about you?’

‘Your father is buying her a record player and it will be from both of us. Talk of the devil,’ she said as the telephone rang. ‘That’s probably him now. He usually rings to let me know when to expect him.’

Robin had finished wrapping the book and, intending to put it in his room until tomorrow morning, he followed his mother into the hall, pausing to listen to the one-sided conversation. He gleaned enough to realise there was a problem, but then there was a flurry of activity overhead and he quickly hid his present behind his back as Jenny appeared.

His mother had just replaced the receiver and, leaning over the banister, Jenny said, ‘I heard the telephone. Was it Daddy? When is he arriving?’

Delia’s reply was short. ‘He isn’t coming home.’

‘But…but he promised,’ Jenny cried.

‘Work always comes first with your father and you should have learned that by now. He obviously feels it’s more important than your birthday.’

Jenny looked stricken and fled back to her room.

‘That was a bit harsh, Mother,’ Robin said.

‘I don’t see why. I only told her the truth.’ Then her voice cracked. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Robin. I was annoyed that your father broke his promise and spoke without thinking. It’s always the same. He causes upset, but it’s me who’s shown in a bad light.’

Robin was alarmed that his mother was still so fragile, so easily upset. ‘You aren’t to blame and I’m sure Jenny knows that. I’ll go and have a word with her.’

‘I…I should do it,’ Delia said, but tears began to come in earnest now.

Robin put an arm around her, leading her back into the drawing room. His mother needed him and Jenny would have to wait.

Jenny was unable to deny the truth of her mother’s words. Her father had put his work first, so much so that it was more important than his promise to be there for her birthday. He hadn’t even asked to speak to her, to offer any explanation, and Jenny couldn’t help wondering if it was because she wasn’t his real daughter. Perhaps it wasn’t possible to really love a child who wasn’t your own – that had certainly proved to be the case with Delia.

Jenny hadn’t been able to stand up to her, not with Robin so sure that she had caused this so-called bout of bad nerves, and no matter how much she protested, told him that it was all an act that their mother dropped when he wasn’t around, Robin didn’t seem to believe her.

All Jenny thought about now was getting out of this house, and she was counting the days to the end of term. Tomorrow, on her birthday, she had planned to tell her parents that she was leaving home – that she and Tina were going to look for a flat together as soon as they left school. She had been worried about her father’s reaction, but wasn’t worried any longer. He wouldn’t care. Once again Jenny was swamped with a familiar feeling, one of loneliness, of something missing in her life. She was alone, without real parents, or anyone else who cared about her.

But wait, she did have someone; she had Tina, who saw them as sisters, and at this thought Jenny came to a swift decision. Of course, she would have to speak to Tina, but she doubted her friend would take any persuasion. Only moments later Jenny went downstairs, saying shortly as she poked her head into the drawing room, ‘I’m going out for a walk.’

She didn’t wait for a response before heading outside. So intent was she on speaking to Tina that her face was gleaming with perspiration by the time she reached Princes Way.

As Jenny entered the block of flats she hoped that Tina’s father was away, the thought of even looking at the man making her stomach churn. She took the lift to the fifth floor and, fingers crossed, she stepped out to knock on Tina’s door. She was thankful that it was her friend who opened it.

‘Tina, can you come out for a while?’

‘You look all hot and bothered. What’s wrong?’

‘I need to talk to you.’

‘Come on in,’ Tina offered.

‘No, we need to be on our own.’

‘Oh, right. Hang on then. I’ll just grab my shoes.’

‘Tina! Who’s that at the door?’

‘It’s Jenny. We’re just going out for a while, Mum,’ Tina called back. She winked, disappeared for a moment, and then reappeared, hopping on one foot as she put on her other shoe. ‘Right, let’s go.’

Jenny said nothing until the lift doors closed behind them, and then drew in a deep breath. ‘Tina, instead of waiting, I want to leave home now.’

‘What! Blimey, we’ve still got a week till the end of term. What’s brought this on?’

‘I’ve just had enough. You were sixteen last week, and as it’s my birthday tomorrow I can’t see the school kicking up a fuss if we don’t go back.’

‘Yeah, I suppose you’re right. When do you want us to leave?’

‘Tomorrow.’

‘Gawd, that soon?’ Tina said, as they stepped out of the lift, but then she grinned. ‘Yeah, well, as far as I’m concerned it couldn’t have come at a better time. My dad’s due home on Sunday and you know what that means.’

‘Oh Tina, yes, we’ve got to get you out of there. We could pack tonight and leave in the morning.’

‘Yeah, that could work. With the old man arriving, mum is sure to go out to get in a bit of shopping. I could sneak out then, but I won’t be able to say for sure what time it will be.’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll have to draw some money from my post office savings book, and after that I’ll wait for you in that café on the corner of the High Street.’

Tina linked arms with Jenny. ‘It all feels like a dream, and I can hardly believe we’re really leaving.’

‘Well we are. I just hope that when we get to Chelsea we’ll be able to find somewhere to stay.’

‘It’ll be a doddle,’ Tina said with assurance. ‘We just need to buy the local paper and there’s sure to be rooms advertised.’

‘Yes, but will they let us move in straightaway?’

‘I dunno, but fingers crossed. If the worst comes to the worst, I suppose there’s always a hotel.’

‘That would soon swallow up my savings,’ Jenny said worriedly.

‘Now you sound like you’re changing your mind.’

‘No, I’m not,’ Jenny insisted.

‘Thank goodness for that. It’ll be great, Jenny, you and me in a place of our own, and in Chelsea too. I wouldn’t mind a job in a boutique on the King’s Road, and at least you won’t be stuck in a boring library.’

Jenny knew that leaving the opportunity of the library job behind would be her only regret and doubted she’d get such a chance again. For a moment she was saddened but then again staying at home would be far worse. Perhaps she’d be able to find a job in a bookshop and that would be some compensation. Cheered by the thought she said, ‘Right then, I’m off home to sort out what clothes I’m taking. I’ll see you in the morning.’

The two of them retraced their steps and parted outside the flats. Jenny continued on her way, undecided whether to tell her mother she was leaving when she got home or wait until she was packed and ready to go in the morning.

Chapter Ten

Delia was upstairs, just leaving the bathroom when Jennifer returned from her walk. She hadn’t wanted to overplay her hand and so had shown nothing but kindness recently towards Jennifer. However, the girl would be sixteen tomorrow and it was time to bait her again – time to strike.

She followed Jennifer into her bedroom but, not having had a chance to rehearse her words, Delia had to think quickly.

‘Jennifer, I’m not happy that you went out without telling me where you were going. I know you were upset, and Robin thinks I was harsh with you, but I’m not prepared to make excuses for your father. He isn’t coming home, accept that and pull yourself together.’

‘I…I just went out for a walk, that was all.’

‘It was more like you went off in a sulk. You are not a child now and I suggest you stop behaving like one. You’re sixteen tomorrow and thankfully can leave home if you want to.’

‘Thankfully? It sounds like you want me to go.’

Delia smiled sardonically, deciding to move this forward. Going out to the hall she raised her voice to a loud wail. ‘I can’t stand this again. I really can’t. Your behaviour is just too much…too much…’

As Delia had hoped, Robin came running upstairs. ‘Mother, what’s the matter?’

‘I tried to apologise, to explain why I was so harsh, but now Jennifer seems to think I want her to leave home. I don’t, Robin, but…but she was so nasty…so…so rude to me.’

‘Mummy, calm down and let me take you downstairs,’ Robin urged, and then shouted at Jennifer, ‘As for you, I’ll deal with you later.’

Delia clutched her son’s arm as they went into the drawing room. He was making a fuss of her and she enjoyed it, letting him think he had managed to soothe her.

‘If you’re all right now, Mummy, I intend to see that Jenny apologises for her behaviour.’

‘Thank you, darling,’ Delia said, glad that once again Jennifer had proved no match for her. The girl was too young and innocent to work out what was really going on, and Robin was the same, easily fooled.

While Robin went to get Jennifer, Delia composed her expression to one of wounded hurt. When the girl appeared, Delia waited for the apology. It didn’t come. Instead when Jennifer spoke it was with defiance.

‘I know you planned all this,’ she said, ‘but you needn’t have bothered.’

‘What is that supposed to mean?’

‘That I’d already decided to leave home.’

‘But you can’t, Jenny,’ Robin protested.

‘Oh yes I can. It’s just what your mother wants.’

‘Don’t be silly. She did once suggest it and had her reasons, but then we agreed that you’re too young. Mother, tell her,’ Robin urged.

‘If Jennifer wants to go there’s nothing I can do to stop her,’ Delia said. Then, seeing the expression on her son’s face, she could have bitten off her tongue. She quickly back-pedalled. ‘Of course I would prefer her to stay, and hope we can persuade her to do just that.’

‘If you believe that, Robin, you’ll believe anything,’ Jennifer told him. ‘I’ve never made her life a misery. In fact it’s the reverse and I’ve told you how she treats me when you’re not here.’

Delia knew that she had to stop this, and wailed, ‘It’s you who’s telling lies. You’ve always been jealous of my relationship with my son and now you’re trying to come between us. Oh, Robin…please, I can’t take any more of this.’

Just as Delia had hoped, Robin rushed to her side, and over his shoulder she saw the look of disgust Jennifer threw at her before she marched out. For a moment Delia was annoyed at her audacity, but then realised that it didn’t really matter. The girl was leaving, and now all she had to do was to convince Robin that she’d played no part in her decision.

At last her torment was over and she would never have to look at that face again – the tears Delia shed now, ones of relief.

Robin was angry with Jenny for upsetting his mother again, but hated the thought of her leaving home. He would have to talk to her, but with his mother in this state it would have to wait.

‘Jennifer really was telling lies, but I don’t know how to convince you of that.’

‘I’m not sure you have to. I’ve seen for myself now what Jennifer has been putting you through. I just wish you’d told me before and then I’d have understood why you always seemed rather cold and distant towards her.’

‘I didn’t want you upset; I tried to shield you.’

‘I’m not a child, Mother.’

‘You were when you took your eleven plus exams, followed by grammar school with more to face. I was so proud when you passed and went on to college, but what I feared is now happening. Instead of concentrating on your studies, you’re distracted and worried about me because of Jennifer.’

‘I’m still on course to pass my A levels.’

‘That’s good,’ Delia said, but then she started to sob again. ‘I dread to think what your father will say. He’ll blame me, I…I know he will.’

‘Mother, don’t worry. When he comes home again, I’ll put him straight.’

‘I doubt you’ll convince him. Jennifer can do no wrong in his eyes.’

‘I must admit I found it hard to believe at first, but I’m sorry now for doubting you.’

‘There’s no need to apologise, darling, but oh dear, with all this emotional upset I’m so tired,’ she said, placing a hand over her mouth and yawning. ‘I have an awful headache and think I’ll go to bed.’

‘Yes, do that, and don’t worry. I’ll see that everything is shipshape and the doors are all locked.’

‘You’re such a comfort to me. Good night, darling.’

Robin saw how emotionally drained his mother looked as she rose to her feet. It was his turn to protect her now, to shield her from any more distress, and to do that he’d have to make sure she remained calm in the morning. They would both talk to Jenny, persuade her to stay, and hopefully things would get back to normal.

After he checked all the windows and made sure the back and front doors were secure, Robin went upstairs. The house was strangely silent and his room hot and stuffy as he lay on his bed, his mind twisting and turning.

Despite the fact that he’d been blind to Jenny’s faults, she was in his system, and he hoped they could talk her round. Yet if there was another scene he doubted his mother could cope. She was already at the end of her tether, and he dreaded the thought of her breaking down again, of having to call the doctor, who might well have her hospitalised. Anger towards Jenny flared once more and Robin began to wonder if it might be for the best if she did leave home, though the thought still had the power to make his stomach churn. Where would she go?

Wait! Jenny said she had planned to go, and that must mean she had somewhere lined up. She must have broken into her savings to rent a room, but as the job she was starting was a local one, it wouldn’t be far away.

At last, realising that all this could work out to his advantage, Robin smiled. Jenny would be living alone, and would perhaps be so lonely that she’d welcome his company. When he called round to see her, there’d be just the two of them and as his imagination took over, Robin groaned, his hand snaking downwards as he sought release.

Jenny packed, stuffing all that she could into an old rucksack that she had once used for a Guides camping trip, and then finally climbed into bed.

She thought over all that had happened recently. Thanks to Robin blurting it out, everything made more sense. Out of her hearing, her mother must have suggested that she leave home, but Robin, and perhaps her father, had been against it.

How clever her mother had been, pretending to agree that she was too young, pretending that she cared, convincing Robin that she didn’t want her to go, yet all the time planning a way to drive her out.

Oh, what did it matter? She’d be gone in the morning, her only regret that she wasn’t able to say goodbye to her father. Yet he wasn’t really her father. If he had been he wouldn’t have broken his promise. Feeling the threat of tears, Jenny blinked rapidly.

No, she wouldn’t cry. She was being childish and by acting childishly she had played right into her mother’s hands. It was time to grow up. Tomorrow was going to be the start of a new chapter in her life, one she couldn’t wait to begin.

Chapter Eleven

Edward arrived home at eleven in the morning, two weeks after Jenny’s birthday. He had wanted to be there, had promised to be there for her big day, but when he hadn’t been able to make it he’d rung Delia to explain why. She’d have told Jenny about the fix he’d been in, that in those circumstances it had been impossible to make it home.

He pulled the belated present from the boot of his car, berating himself. He should have at least rung Jenny on her birthday, but he’d been so tied up with sorting things out he hadn’t given it a thought. Delia was right in some things, Edward admitted to himself. He could be thoughtless and his work became his whole focus when he was away from home.

Of course, that hadn’t been the case on Jenny’s birthday, but nevertheless Edward intended to make it up to her this weekend. He’d book a restaurant, they’d all go out for a slap-up meal, and then he’d give her the extra present he had tucked away in his pocket, a lovely little gold pendant she was sure to love.

With a smile on his face in anticipation of his daughter’s welcome, he went inside, calling, ‘Where’s my girl?’

There was no response, the house strangely silent. Puzzled, Edward looked in the drawing room but found it empty, and so he went into the kitchen. Empty again. Where was everyone?

Having expected an excited welcome from Jenny, Edward felt a strong sense of anticlimax as he placed the parcel on the kitchen table before heading for the stairs. At the top he called, ‘Is anyone home?’

Robin came out of his room, saying quietly, ‘Hello, Dad.’

‘Where is everyone?’

‘Mum’s gone shopping, but she should be home soon.’

‘What about Jenny?’

‘Er…you’re not going to like this, Dad, but Jenny’s gone. She left home.’

‘What!’ Edward thundered. ‘When?’

‘She left on her birthday.’

‘But why?’ Edward asked, but then he heard Delia coming in. ‘Oh, don’t tell me, I can guess.’ Turning away from his son, he hurried downstairs to confront his wife. ‘So you’ve done it. While I was away you got rid of Jenny.’

‘I…I did no such thing. She left of her own accord.’

‘Don’t give me that!’

‘It’s true, Dad,’ said Robin, who had followed Edward downstairs.

‘I don’t believe it!’ Edward snapped, dismissing his son as he focused on Delia. ‘Tell me where Jenny is. Whether you like it or not I’m bringing her home.’

Delia’s face drained of colour and Robin went to her side. ‘We don’t know where Jenny is,’ he said.

Edward’s fury mounted as he glared at Delia. ‘Jenny’s a child and you let her leave home with no idea of where she was going? Are you mad, woman?’

‘Stop it! Please stop shouting,’ Delia begged.

‘Have you told the police? Have you reported her missing?’

‘What would be the point of that? She’s sixteen and free to leave home if she wants to.’

‘She’s a child! You…you…’ he ground out, so furious that he could have throttled her. ‘I’ll never forgive you for this!’

‘Dad, stop it. None of this is Mummy’s fault. Jenny’s behaviour over the years had been abominable, and just lately she almost caused Mummy to have a nervous breakdown.’

‘Don’t talk rubbish!’

‘See, Robin, I told you,’ Delia cried. ‘I said your father would blame me.’

‘Leave this to me,’ soothed Robin. ‘Take one of your pills. I know they make you feel groggy but it’ll calm you.’

As Robin walked towards him, Edward noticed for the first time that his son no longer looked like a boy. He looked like a young man and a determined one at that.

‘Dad, come on,’ he said, grasping his arm. ‘Mother really is ill and we need to talk.’

‘Ill my foot,’ Edward snapped, convinced that Delia was hiding behind her so-called nerves as usual. He’d get nothing out of her, but at least his son might be able to shed some light on the matter, a clue as to where Jenny had gone. If Robin could suggest somewhere, as a starting point, it would be something. He had to find Jenny. He just had to.

Robin was relieved when his father agreed to accompany him to the drawing room. His mother had tried to stop Jenny from leaving – they had both tried. There had been a tug of war when he tried to grab her rucksack, but Jenny had fought like a tiger, verbally attacking both him and his mother.

She had fled then, leaving his mother sobbing and in such a state that he’d had to call the doctor. She was now on medication, which was helping, but would it be enough to shield her from his father’s anger?

‘I need a drink,’ his dad said, taking a decanter and pouring a large measure of whisky.

Robin waited until he had gulped it down, and then said, ‘There are things you should know about Jenny.’

‘Don’t bother. I know my daughter.’

‘No, Dad, you don’t. Mother told me that Jenny has made her life a misery for years, but I didn’t believe her until I saw it with my own eyes,’ Robin told him, going on to tell his father all that had happened since he was last here.

‘That doesn’t sound like Jenny,’ Edward said. ‘But if what you say is true, your mother must have driven her to behave like that.’

‘She did not!’ Robin insisted. ‘If you had been here you’d have seen that for yourself, but of course you’re always away. Not only that, if you hadn’t put your work first, you’d have been here for Jenny’s birthday and perhaps able to stop her from leaving. We certainly couldn’t.’

‘What are you talking about? I was driving home when my car broke down. I rang your mother to tell her why I couldn’t make it and asked her to explain things to Jenny. Didn’t she pass on my message?’

Robin could remember the phone call and frowned. His mother hadn’t said anything about the car. Confused, he was about to tell his father that, but then bit back the words. It would anger him again, cause another confrontation, and his mother was upset enough as it was.

‘Yes, of…of course she did,’ he stuttered, hating having to lie. He knew that there had to be an explanation for his mother’s behaviour but now, recalling how upset Jenny had been when Delia told her that dad’s work came first, doubts crossed his mind. What else had his mother lied about?

‘I had to find a garage, sort out repairs, but forget that for now. Jenny is my main concern and I need to find her. Where do I start? Have you got any idea?’

‘I’ve been looking, asked around, and found out that her best friend left home at the same time. I think that means they’re together, but as Jenny starts work at the local library on Monday, they’re probably still in this area.’

A look of relief crossed his father’s face. ‘Well done, son, that should make it a lot easier. If I can’t find Jenny before then, I’ll just have to be outside the library when she turns up for work. Right, I’m going to have a quick bite to eat and then I’ll make a start.’

Privately, Robin doubted that Jenny would agree to come home even if his father did find her, but he didn’t say anything. They returned to the kitchen together to find his mother sitting at the table, her face slack, the pill she had taken making her groggy. Once again he wondered why she had lied about the telephone call, deciding to ask her as soon as his father went out.

However, as soon as Delia saw them, she rose tiredly to her feet. ‘I…I’m going upstairs to lie down for a while.’

‘Yes, all right, Mother,’ Robin agreed, aware that his father was looking at her scathingly as she left the room. He felt protective of her and as soon as she was out of sight he sprang to her defence. ‘I told you what happened and you can’t blame Mother for this. Jenny really did leave of her own accord.’

‘You’re supposed to have a brain. Use it,’ his father snapped. ‘You said Jenny’s been making your mother’s life a misery, but don’t you think it’s odd that you’ve only just seen it for yourself?’

‘Mother said Jenny’s clever, that she only behaved badly when I wasn’t around.’

‘Right, let’s think about that. From what I’ve gathered, she told you this so-called bad behaviour has been going on for years. How many years?’

‘I don’t know for sure, but since our childhood. Mother mentioned my eleven plus so it must have been before that.’

His father’s laugh was derisive as he slapped a piece of ham between two slices of bread. ‘So you’re telling me that Jenny, who would have been around nine years old then, was wily enough at that age to make your mother’s life hell without you seeing or hearing a thing? We didn’t, and still don’t, live in a mansion, and as this has supposedly been going on for at least seven years, I doubt that hiding it for that long is possible.’

‘I…I hadn’t thought of that…but I have seen it now, Dad.’

‘So you say, but don’t you think it’s strange that after so many years of so-called concealing her bad behaviour, Jenny has suddenly come out into the open?’

Robin frowned as he thought it over. ‘Well, yes, it is a bit odd.’

‘As I said, use your head. I suspect what you saw was Jenny rebelling against her treatment for all these years. You’ve seen how cold your mother can be, how at times she speaks to Jenny like a servant, and I just wish I’d done more to put a stop to it. Now I’m going to find my daughter,’ he said, not pausing to wrap the sandwich. ‘I’ll eat this in the car.’

Robin was left floundering, but it took only a few seconds for him to realise that his father was right. ‘Hold on, Dad. I’m coming with you.’

‘Fine,’ said Edward. ‘Two pairs of eyes are better than one. Though as your mother is supposed to be ill, aren’t you worried about leaving her on her own?’

‘No, Dad. Let’s go and find Jenny.’

Delia didn’t need pills. She wasn’t in a nervous state or depressed. She’d been ecstatic that Jennifer had left home, but then Edward had turned up and now her happiness was replaced by worry. Delia hadn’t gone to bed; instead she’d stood on the stairs listening, and had been horrified by what she’d heard. Blast Edward. Blast him for putting doubt in her son’s mind.

Now, alone in the silent house, Delia cursed her own stupidity. She’d overplayed her hand by putting Jennifer at too young an age to be that clever – but there had to be a way to turn things round. Setting her mind to the problem, she at last realised that there was only one thing she could do. There was no choice. She hadn’t wanted to play this hand yet though, had planned to wait until she was self-sufficient and able to tell Edward that their marriage was over.

It was the only option left to her, Delia decided – and at least she’d be entitled to the house, as well as a decent settlement until Robin finished his education.

Chapter Twelve

With no idea of the drama that was unfolding in Wimbledon, Jenny and Tina were in Chelsea, arms linked as they walked along the King’s Road.

Jenny had found Chelsea nerve-racking at first. Unable to find a flat or rooms at such short notice, the two girls had spent that first night in a seedy hotel. Jenny had hardly slept for worrying that they’d made a huge mistake, but nothing had seemed to faze Tina, and her friend had snored gently all night.

The next morning they had begun their search again, but flats or even bedsits where the rent wasn’t exorbitant proved impossible to find. Footsore and weary, they had finally stumbled across a rundown area at the far end of the King’s Road called the World’s End. The two-roomed pokey flat they at last found was thanks to a card in a shop window and the landlord had asked no questions when he pocketed the rent and deposit. Part of a tall, scruffy terraced house, it wasn’t much, but once they had settled in, Jenny at last found herself happy.

Except for one thing, she thought, and that was her worry that they’d never find jobs. Her hopes of working in a bookshop hadn’t come to fruition, having tried a few without success, including one that was tucked down an alley and specialised in antique books. Tina had thought her mad for wanting to work in what she called a dark, dusty, musty hole, but Jenny would have loved it.

They had tried boutiques, department stores, cafés and restaurants, growing increasingly desperate when it was always their age or lack of experience that let them down. With such a large chunk of her savings gone on securing the flat, Jenny feared that if they didn’t soon find work, her money would run out.

‘Come on, Jenny, step up the pace,’ Tina urged. ‘We don’t want to be late.’

‘There’s no chance of that,’ Jenny said, keeping her fingers crossed that they’d be lucky this time. Surely it had been a good omen that, just as they were passing a newly refurbished café-cum-restaurant, a sign had appeared in the window for staff. They’d been told the new owner would be conducting interviews at eleven today and they had left the flat with plenty of time to spare, determined to be first in line.

‘Right, shoulders back and look confident,’ Tina advised when they arrived.

They stepped inside to find several other hopefuls waiting and were told to sit with them. It was over half an hour before their turn came. Jenny was called before Tina and nervously approached the man conducting the interviews.

He eyed her sceptically, his first question: ‘How old are you?’

‘I’m sixteen.’

‘Is that so?’ he said, a small smile playing around his mouth.

He wasn’t young, but a bit of a dish, Jenny thought, with olive skin and dark hair, Italian or Greek perhaps, she decided, though he had no trace of an accent. She was shaking inwardly but did her best to hide it as she said firmly, ‘Yes, I told you, I’m sixteen.’

‘What’s your name and where do you live?’

‘Jennifer. Jennifer Lavender and I recently moved to Chelsea from Wimbledon.’

‘I’m looking for waitresses. Have you any experience?’

‘Er…no,’ she said. Thinking on her feet, she added, ‘But I’m a fast learner.’

Once again a look of amusement crossed his face and for a moment Jenny began to hope. It was short-lived, as he said, ‘I want trained staff. However…’

As he paused, Jenny blurted out, ‘I’ll do anything, any job.’

‘The only thing I can offer you is kitchen work, cleaning, washing up, that sort of thing.’

Without a thought, Jenny said hurriedly, ‘I’ll take it.’

‘So without asking me about the hours, the pay, you’ll take it?’

‘Well…no…but…’

‘But you’re desperate,’ he interrupted. ‘Yes, I thought so, and I also doubt you’re sixteen. What are you, a runaway?’

‘Of course not.’

‘Do you live with your parents?’

‘Not now. I share a flat with my friend. She’s over there,’ Jenny said, nodding towards Tina.

His eyes narrowed, scrutinising Tina, then he crooked a finger to beckon her over. ‘I suppose you’re going to tell me that you’re sixteen too?’

‘Yeah, that’s right.’

‘And, like your friend, you’ll take any job on offer?’

‘I don’t know about that. It depends what’s on offer and the pay.’

‘Have you any experience?’

‘Look, we both left school recently so the answer is no, and we never will have unless someone gives us a chance.’

Jenny hid a smile. Unlike her, Tina didn’t seem nervous or browbeaten as she looked the man in the eye. He shrugged, then said, ‘As I told your friend, all I can offer is kitchen work. It’s eight-hour shifts, six days a week, and the weekly pay is eleven pounds.’

‘Eleven quid! Is that all?’

‘Take it or leave it.’

‘We’ll take it,’ Jenny said quickly.

‘Hold on, Jenny. That’s crap pay.’

‘Tina, it’s a job and we need the money.’

‘Yeah, yeah, all right, I won’t turn it down.’

Jenny sighed with relief. ‘Thank you for giving us a chance, Mr…Mr…er…’

‘Mr Cane.’

‘Cane,’ Jenny said, surprised, ‘but I thought…’

‘My mother’s Italian,’ he said dismissively, as though used to this reaction to his looks. ‘You can both start your first shift on Monday morning, eight o’clock sharp when we will be serving breakfast and ending at four. Every four weeks your shift will change and you’ll be working from four until midnight.’

Jenny was about to thank him again, but he was already looking at the next person in line, his voice strident as he called, ‘Next!’

Tina waited until they were outside before she spoke, her tone scathing. ‘Eleven soddin’ quid a week and kitchen work! We must be mad. I know I’m not posh like you, but we could both do better than that.’

‘I think he offered us employment because he felt sorry for us. I know it isn’t much, but it’s better than nothing.’

‘Sorry for us! Don’t make me laugh. I saw the way he was looking at you and it wasn’t with pity.’

‘What! Don’t be silly.’

‘Whatever you say, but there’s something not right about him. He was trying to sound posh, but unlike you, it was false. Still, come on, however shitty they are, we’ve got jobs and should celebrate,’ Tina said, trying to cast off her bad mood. ‘If you don’t mind stumping up again, we could go for a snack in Boris’s sandwich shop. Susan said that he’s had some famous customers, including Mick Jagger, John Lennon and Yoko. You never know, we might spot a famous face.’

‘Yes, all right,’ Jenny agreed.

Since moving into their flat they had got to know Susan, who lived in the studio flat below them. Susan was older than them, in her mid-twenties and she had taken them under her wing. Her style was hippie: maxi dresses, or skirts with peasant blouses and strings of beads. Tall and slim, with long brown hair, Sue completed the look with flat sandals instead of high heels. It wasn’t a look that Tina felt she could pull off though, and as they passed a boutique she paused to look at a lovely mini-dress in the window.

‘Jenny, look at that.’

‘It’s lovely,’ Jenny agreed, her eyes flicking around as they walked on. ‘Look at everyone, Tina. They’re all dressed in a mixture of styles from hippie to rock and here’s me in clothes chosen by my mother. I feel gauche, out of place…I wish I could afford a new look.’

‘Yeah, me too,’ Tina agreed, her tummy rumbling as they reached Boris’s. She felt rotten that Jenny had to pay for everything – the rent, their food – but at least she’d be able to put her share in soon. Eleven quid a week, Tina thought again disgustedly, but knew she’d have to stick it out until she found something better.

‘I’ve been thinking,’ Jenny said. ‘After we’ve had something to eat, I wouldn’t mind looking in that shop at our end, the one called Paradise Garage.’

‘What for?’ Tina asked. ‘From what Susan said they sell American gear, second-hand denim jeans, along with Hawaiian shirts, some retro rock, and boiler suits or dungarees.’

‘If it’s second-hand it’ll be cheap.’

Tina laughed. ‘Oh yeah, I can just see you in a boiler suit.’

‘Still, it might be worth a look.’

‘It’s weird enough on the outside, what with that 1950s petrol pump and the tiger-striped car, a Mustang, Sue said, sometimes parked close by. I’m game though. It might be fun to take a look inside.’

They had a quick snack but saw no sign of any famous faces, so they then headed off for Paradise Garage. They had often passed the shop, which was painted from top to toe in what looked like green bamboo but was in fact corrugated iron.

The Mustang wasn’t outside today, but the interior had their eyes widening in amazement. There were caged lovebirds, an American jukebox playing rock and roll, and even a tiny dance floor. However, a quick look at the clothes on offer was enough for Jenny to see that they just weren’t for either of them. She picked out a boiler suit, holding it against her, and they both giggled.

‘Very fetching,’ Tina told her.

‘You’ve got to admit it’s been worth a look, if only for the fun factor.’

‘Yeah, but come on, you daft moo, let’s go,’ Tina urged. She was still putting on a front, pretending that she didn’t have a care in the world, but in reality her stomach was churning. She really had seen the way that Mr Cane had looked at Jenny, a look she’d seen many times before in her father’s eyes. Tina shivered, regretting that they had taken the jobs and wished she’d made more of a protest. Her lip curled into a scowl. If the bloke made one move – said one thing out of place – she’d get Jenny out of there.

Chapter Thirteen

In Wimbledon, the telephone continued to ring. Unable to ignore it any longer, Delia at last answered it.

Edward’s sentences were short and clipped. ‘Delia, there’s been an accident. I’m at the Nelson Hospital, in casualty with Robin. He’s been injured. You’d better get down here.’

‘What? Oh no! Is he all right?’

‘He’s with the doctor. I’ve got to get back.’

‘Wait!’ Delia cried, but was left listening to the dialling tone.

For a moment Delia was frozen to the spot, but then she came back to life, grabbed her car keys and dashed out of the house. She made good progress at first but once on the main road the traffic increased and her speed slowed. The last thing she’d expected when Robin had gone out with his father was such a phone call. All she’d been concerned about was her plan to bring Edward down.

The traffic lights turned to red and Delia almost screamed with impatience. She had to get to the hospital – had to find out if Robin was all right. What if his injuries were so bad that he…he…No, she wouldn’t – couldn’t – think about that.

Delia’s heart was thumping with anxiety when at last she arrived. After a frantic enquiry at reception she was directed to another room where a nurse led her to a cubicle and pulled back the curtain.

‘Robin…Robin,’ she cried, horrified to see that her son was deathly pale and that his arm was in a splint.

The only response was a groan. Stricken, she looked at Edward. ‘Is…is he going to be all right?’

‘I don’t know what’s going on; only that he’s going to theatre. They’re worried he may have internal injuries, and he’s got a compound fracture of his lower arm.’

Delia burst into tears. Edward stood up and led her to the vacant chair beside Robin, urging her to sit down as she gasped, ‘Wh…what happened?’

‘A bloody fool of a driver shot out of a side street at speed without checking the road was clear. He slammed into the passenger side and Robin took the brunt of the collision.’

‘Oh, darling,’ Delia said, reaching out to stroke Robin’s hair.

He groaned again and Edward said worriedly, ‘I don’t know why there’s a hold-up. Where’s that bloody doctor?’

For the first time in many, many years, Delia felt a common bond with her husband. Just then the curtain was drawn back and a doctor and nurse appeared.

‘Right, young man, nurse here is going to prep you for surgery.’

Delia stood up, asking anxiously, ‘He’s going to be all right, isn’t he?’

‘He’ll be in good hands,’ said the doctor calmly.

‘How…how long will he be in theatre?’

‘It depends on what the surgeon finds, on the extent of the damage, but I should think for several hours.’

Delia didn’t find this answer reassuring and swayed. She felt Edward’s arm around her, offering support.

‘Perhaps you should take your wife to the waiting room,’ the doctor suggested.

‘Yes, come on, Delia.’

She was reluctant to leave Robin but, having no choice, she allowed herself to be led away. Her mind twisted and turned as they sat in the stark waiting room. If Jennifer hadn’t left home, her son wouldn’t have gone out with his father to look for her. Jennifer had caused this. Yes, it was that girl’s fault, yet even as she tried to shift the blame, Delia knew she couldn’t. She was the one who had driven Jennifer out – and if the worst happened, if she lost her son, Delia knew she would never forgive herself.

Delia then found herself inwardly bargaining with God. Please, let my son live and I’ll change. I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on Jennifer for so long and I realise that now. It was Edward’s fault, not hers. Jenny is the innocent one in all of it and what I deprived her of is unforgivable. When she comes home, though some things can never be put right, I’ll try to make it up to her, really I will.

Delia felt no relief from her anxiety. She was no longer a regular attender at church and hadn’t been for many years. Not only that, she didn’t deserve God’s ear. Nevertheless, Delia continued to pray, repeating the same liturgy again and again until at last, many hours later, the surgeon appeared.

Edward reared to his feet. ‘How is he?’

‘The surgery went well and your son should make a complete recovery.’

‘Can…can we see him?’ Delia asked, she too on her feet now.

‘Just for a few minutes,’ the man said, and a nurse appeared to lead them to the recovery ward.

Robin was groggy from the anaesthetic and hardly knew they were there, but Delia was so relieved that she found herself thanking God for listening to her plea. It was time to keep to her side of the bargain…but could she do it? Could she really bear to have Jennifer home again – to look at her face, one that had always served as a constant reminder? Somehow she had to make the effort.

However, Jennifer was one matter, but Edward was quite another. Until she no longer needed him, her husband’s punishment would continue.

Edward now took the keys from Delia and drove her car home, his wife sitting stiffly beside him. His mind had been hopping between Robin and Jenny, but now, having been told that his son’s prognosis was good, his daughter became his main concern again. Where was she? Did she have somewhere to stay? God, he hoped so; the thought of her roaming the streets and sleeping rough was horrendous. Jenny was just an innocent kid and anything could have happened to her!

Edward scanned the road as he drove along, looking out for the slim, familiar figure of his daughter. Again, his anger mounted towards Delia for having driven Jenny out. The sole consolation was that if he didn’t find her before then, at least he had only to wait until Monday when she started work at the library.

‘We have to find Jennifer,’ said Delia suddenly. ‘Bring her home.’

‘What!’ Edward said, incredulous.

‘I know I treated her badly.’

‘So you’re admitting it at last.’

‘Yes, Edward, I’m being honest at last, which is more than can be said for you.’

‘Not this again? I’m just about sick of it, Delia.’

Delia huffed derisively and fell silent for the rest of the journey home. That suited Edward. He’d been listening to her accusation for years, but would never admit to it. Why should he? He had no need to, he was completely safe, and as far as he was concerned, what his wife had forced him to do was just as unforgivable.

Between searching unsuccessfully for Jenny and visiting his son in hospital, the weekend passed. It was now Monday morning and Edward had rung the office. They had offered him another company vehicle while his car was being repaired, but he’d insisted on a week’s leave, despite the short notice.

‘Right, Delia,’ he now said. ‘I’m off. I want to be at the library before it opens; catch Jenny when she arrives.’

‘I’ll come with you.’

‘There’s no need.’

‘Jennifer won’t come back unless I apologise and assure her that things will be different.’

‘I’ll tell her that.’

‘No, Edward, she won’t believe it unless it comes from me.’

Impatient to leave, Edward nodded in acquiescence, and soon they were in Delia’s car, heading for the library. With his wife driving he used the opportunity to keep his eyes peeled, but so far there was no sign of Jenny. Perhaps his daughter had approached the library from another direction, he thought.

As Delia pulled up outside, Edward felt a surge of relief. This was it, he’d see Jenny again, and between him and Delia, she was sure to agree to come home.

They waited for a while, looking in both directions, until Delia said, ‘I can’t understand it. They opened ten minutes ago. Where is she?’

‘If I knew that we wouldn’t be standing here.’

Another fifteen minutes passed and impatiently Edward said, ‘Perhaps we missed her. Let’s go inside.’

Jenny wasn’t there, however, and the head librarian was displeased that she hadn’t arrived yet. Edward and Delia left and stood outside again, waiting on the wide steps for another half-hour, but by then Edward knew they were clutching at straws. Jenny wouldn’t have been this late on her first day at work.

‘Come on, Delia, she’s not going to show. We might as well go home.’

‘But Jennifer was so excited about working in the library. I don’t understand. Why didn’t she turn up?’

‘I should think it’s obvious. She doesn’t want to be found.’

‘There must be some way of tracing her.’

‘How, Delia?’ snapped Edward. ‘She’s probably in another area, or perhaps has even left London. Unless Jenny gets in touch with us, we don’t stand a chance.’

Delia was quiet as they drove home and Edward’s mind was churning. Surely Jenny would know how worried he was and he would hear from her soon?

Edward clung to that thought, unaware that it would be a long, long time before he had any news of his daughter…or that it would come from an unexpected source.

Chapter Fourteen

Summer passed and it was now close to Christmas, the weather outside cold, though in the café Jenny was hot and perspiring as she worked. She was up to her elbows in soapy water, her hair damp, stringy and clinging to her face. She glanced across at Tina to see that her friend wasn’t faring any better.

Tina became aware that Jenny was looking at her, and hissed, ‘We’ve stuck it out since August, but I ain’t taking much more of this.’

‘I feel the same, but we have to find new jobs first.’

‘That’s easier said than done. Look at the pair of us. We look like bleedin’ ragamuffins and no wonder we ain’t fit to be seen out front.’

Jenny knew Tina was right. They were scruffy, their hair a mess and faces bare of make-up. What they still needed was a new look, but what with paying the rent along with feeding the gas and electric meters, there was little left over from their small wage. At least they got a meal when they were working, and Jenny had developed a taste for Italian food as a consequence. The chef was temperamental though, and everyone knew when he was in a mood, all keeping their heads down.

If they wanted to find new jobs, Jenny knew there was only one thing to do, but she was loath to break into what was left of her savings. Even if she did, it wouldn’t stretch far, but now, thinking about Susan, she had an idea. Their downstairs neighbour was a mine of useful information about the Chelsea scene and it was worth a shot.

‘Tina, let’s have a word with Sue when we finish our shift. She might be able to help.’

‘With what?’

‘She may be able to point us in the direction of some decent second-hand clothes shops.’

‘Gawd, we weren’t well off when I lived at home, but at least I didn’t have to wear other people’s cast-offs.’

‘I know, but if we can just smarten ourselves up enough to go for interviews, we’d stand a better chance of finding decent jobs.’

‘I don’t pay you to chit-chat. Get on with your work!’

Jenny’s face flamed, hoping Mr Cane hadn’t heard their conversation. It was rare that they saw him, for he usually left the restaurant in the hands of a manager, but trust him to turn up just when they had been talking.

‘Sorry, Mr Cane,’ she said, turning swiftly back to her work.

She was aware of him walking up behind her and tensed as she felt his breath on her neck. Jenny knew she was mad, but on the rare occasions she saw him her body responded in a way that left her breathless. There was something exciting about him, something magnetic that drew her, and it took all her will not to turn around.

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