Chapter 35
35
‘I think we should go straight to Jo’s place,’ I said, once we were all in the car. ‘What Jo and Janice told me this morning must all be true.’
‘Jo?’ Sorrel demanded. ‘Ms Cooper from school? What did she say? Tell us!’
‘I think Mum’s had enough,’ Jess said.
‘I’m starving,’ Sorrel interrupted. ‘Can we go and get something to eat? And, if you hadn’t let on you were outside the door, earwigging,’ she went on, ‘I bet Karen would have told me everything.’
Mum, sitting upright but ashen-faced, didn’t say a word.
‘Coffee, Mum?’ Sorrel asked. ‘A coffee and a bun? Would that help?’
‘Shhh, Sorrel,’ I admonished. ‘Just shush two minutes while we work out what to do.’ I turned to Mum. ‘Mum? What do you want to do?’
She still didn’t say a word but stared stonily ahead out of the window.
‘I think she’s in shock,’ Jess whispered, turning to Sorrel and me in the back.
‘Hot sweet tea, then?’ Sorrel mouthed back. ‘And a big doughnut?’
‘Sorrel, shut it, will you? Oh, Mum…’ I leaned forwards to comfort her but she remained utterly still and I began to seriously worry about her. Should we be getting her to Dr Matt at the hospital? ‘D’you think we should ring Matt?’ I asked.
‘Oh, yes,’ Jess said, obviously relieved at the thought of passing Mum on to a professional when we three didn’t appear to have a clue what to do. ‘I think so…’
‘Have I got this right?’ Mum spoke slowly, but succinctly. ‘I was born in Canada?’
We all nodded.
‘So, I’m Canadian?’
‘Yes, I reckon you’re Canadian,’ Sorrel said sagely. ‘You know, like Celine Dion and… hey, does that make me half Canadian? Will it help me get a green card to work on Broadway…?’
‘Sorrel, shhh.’ Jess and I tutted in unison.
‘I’ve always wanted to go to Canada,’ Mum said, almost dreamily.
‘Look, Mum,’ I now blurted out. ‘I think Jo from school, who’s been looking into your family tree, is on the right track after all…’
‘Well, then, take me there, please.’
‘Really?’ Jess exchanged looks with Sorrel and me before turning back to Mum.
‘Absolutely. You don’t think I can go home and sit down to listen to The Archers with a cup of tea when I’ve my own personal drama going on, do you?’
‘Can we stop on the way there?’ Sorrel piped up. ‘Because if I don’t get something to eat, I’m going to die .’
* * *
‘Oh, good, Janice, you’re still here,’ I said as we all trooped through Jo’s kitchen and into her sitting room once more.
‘I wasn’t going anywhere when our Jo told me you’d rung her and were bringing your mum round. I’m on absolute eggs.’ Janice turned to Mum, taking her hand. ‘Oh, love…’ but didn’t seem to be able to say anything further.
‘’Lo, miss,’ Sorrel said, slightly embarrassed at being in her favourite teacher’s home. Probably, like all kids, Sorrel assumed teachers actually lived in the staffroom at school.
‘I was just on the point of ringing you when you called,’ Jo said, her face alight with excitement. ‘Look at this. Found it on a Canadian website this morning once you’d left. Eloise Hudson had obviously been trying to find her lost child.’
Jo handed me a printout from a website aiming to match children adopted in Canada with their birth mother, and the four of us gathered round to read.
Birth Date: 5-5-1969
Adoptee Gender: Male
Adoptee Birth Race: White & Pakistani
Name Given to Adoptee by Birth Parents: none
Adoptee Birth Mother’s Name: Eloise Muriel Howard
Adoptee Birth Mother’s Maiden Name: Hudson
Adoptee Birth Mother’s Race: British
Adoptee Birth Father’s Name: Junayd Sattar
Adoptee Birth Father’s Race: Pakistani
Adoptee Birth Hospital: Barrett Tower
Adoption agency: ?
Age of Adoptee When Adopted: at birth
Name Given to Adoptee by Adoptive Parents: Adam
‘This doesn’t tell us anything we didn’t know,’ I said, frowning, ‘apart from the fact that Eloise herself had been trying to find her child years ago. And, that she was looking for a male child. And look, the father was from Pakistan which fits with what you said about Eloise being pregnant to Junayd Sattar, the worker at her dad’s mill. But nothing here links Mum to Eloise and Junayd.’
‘She told me she’d had a baby boy in Canada.’ Mum nodded, disappointment etched on her face. ‘That her granny had taken her there. And she knew he’d been named Adam.’
‘But, listen, listen.’ Sorrel was finding it hard to get her words out in her excitement. ‘Didn’t you hear Karen tell me she’d had a baby of her own before she adopted Mum? That he was called Adam. You know, when I was telling her about me being…’ Sorrel trailed off, face scarlet, obviously not wanting Jo and Janice to know about her own lost pregnancy.
The slightly tense atmosphere was broken by Mum’s phone ringing. When she didn’t answer, it rang again. And again.
‘I bet that’s Kamran, Mum,’ I said. ‘Go on, go and answer it. He’s probably up for another round of Dambusters with you.’
Once it started ringing again, Mum took herself off into the kitchen while the three of us told Jo and Janice the full details of the morning’s visit to the Foleys. Five minutes later Mum returned, her face ashen, handing the phone silently to Jess.
‘What?’ Jess said, surprised. ‘You want me to talk to Kamran? About Hudson House and this restaurant idea of his?’
‘It’s not Kamran.’
Jess took the proffered phone. ‘Hello? Oh, Wendy…? I didn’t realise you had Mum’s number… Right… Right… OK… No…! Oh, my goodness… well… of course not… no… thank you… you did right… I can’t tell you how grateful… no, of course we won’t… Karen will never know… I promise you.’
‘Bloody hell!’ A full ten minutes later, Jess finally calmed down enough to sit down. ‘Bloody hell!’ She took hold of Mum’s hand.
‘What?’ We all spoke as one.
‘It would appear Eloise Howard – Hudson – is my mother.’ Mum spoke calmly.
‘So,’ Jess interrupted, ‘this is the story, according to Wendy. After we left, Wendy went into Adrian’s room. Apparently, she in particular, and to some extent the carers who go in daily, are able to communicate with him – although he and Karen haven’t spoken for years. After we’d gone, Adrian was in a state, wanting to know who’d been visiting, what was going on. When Wendy told him why Mum had been back after thirty-odd years, he broke down and it all came out.’
‘What did? What came out?’ We all leaned forwards eagerly.
‘He and Karen had been teaching in some Pentecostal church school in Quebec somewhere… Wendy couldn’t remember where…’
‘Doesn’t matter – go on,’ I urged.
‘Karen was pregnant and they were to return to England to Adrian’s new job in Surrey before the baby was born. She gave birth early – too early – to a little boy she named Adam. In those days, stillborn babies were quickly taken away without the mother seeing or bonding with her lost child. She was in a terrible state, apparently, beside herself with grief. She wandered onto the ward where girls like Eloise were hidden away to have their babies. Eloise had just given birth to you, Mum, and you were whisked away before Eloise could see you. She wasn’t even told whether she’d had a boy or a girl.’
‘That’s awful,’ Sorrel exclaimed. ‘How awful is that?’
‘Wendy was speaking quickly,’ Jess went on, ‘obviously not wanting Karen to know she was on the phone to Mum and me so it was all a bit garbled,’ she added, ‘but as far as I can make out, Karen saw you , Mum, knew you’d be immediately put up for adoption and obviously decided to get in there first.’
‘She couldn’t just do that,’ I said, stroking Mum’s arm. ‘Lay claim to Mum like that. There’d be papers to sign, hoops to jump through…’
‘Apparently not. Wendy said Adrian told her money had passed hands…’
‘They bought you?’ I stared at Mum.
‘That kind of thing did go on,’ Jo put in. ‘I’ve just been researching it: some Canadian adoptions from years back have now been denounced as cultural genocide. The Sixties Scoop involved the removal and adoption of lots of Native American babies, for example. Many were adopted into non-Native American homes both in Canada, across the border in the States and maybe even further afield. There was a sort of black market in babies…’ Jo shook her head. ‘I reckon where money is involved and with churchy, respectable people offering it…’ She trailed off, obviously concerned her words were upsetting for Mum.
‘Maybe,’ Janice put in, ‘Eloise’s granny had told the hospital that the baby’s father was Indian – you know, rather than Pakistani – and the nurses there assumed she meant Native North American Indian…? Just a thought…’
‘So,’ Jess went on, trying to speak calmly, but the words tumbling out as she continued, ‘Wendy said Adrian told her that Karen was so beside herself with grief that she picked you up, Mum, refusing to let you go, convincing herself you were her baby, that you were a boy, that you were Adam. Wendy appeared to think Adrian didn’t know about the money until much later – she said her brother was always tight and he told her he certainly wouldn’t have shelled out?—’
‘He was!’ Lisa interrupted with a humourless laugh. ‘He’d lose his temper if you put too much butter on your toast, if you left the lights on…’
‘So,’ Jess went on, ‘a lot of money passed hands with the proviso that Eloise must be told she’d had a little boy called Adam…’
‘But why?’ I still didn’t get it.
‘Why d’you think?’ Sorrel tutted. ‘So that Eloise wouldn’t ever be able to come looking for her baby. And Mum wouldn’t be able to ever find her birth mother.’
‘Wendy seemed to think Adrian and the pregnant Karen were on the point of returning to England to take up Adrian’s new job in Surrey when Karen unfortunately went into labour. They simply came back with a baby.’
‘What about the birth certificate? And a passport for Lisa?’ Janice asked.
‘A birth certificate and adoption certificate would have been ordered showing all the correct details. Not a problem. And babies travelled on the mother’s passport,’ Jo explained. ‘It was all a lot lot simpler fifty years ago and in the wilds of Canada to boot. I assume this Karen Foley made sure you never saw either, Lisa?’
Mum shook her head. ‘I gave up trying to find out anything, to be honest. Once I knew they were biologically nothing to do with me, I was just thankful and left it at that. Luckily, before I ran off with Jayden, I did manage to filch the passport the Foleys had got for me. We’d spent one – really miserable – February half-term holiday when I was fourteen on a rainy conducted bus tour of some horribly boring classical Greek sites. Karen did nothing but moan and complain, and what fourteen-year-old enjoys that sort of thing? Anyway, I’ve never had a problem renewing my passport.’
‘I think you’ll need some sort of counselling, love,’ Janice advised.
‘Possibly.’ Mum nodded. ‘Although all this still doesn’t tell me if the porphyria is inherited.’
‘Well, Eloise doesn’t have any condition other than the dementia she’s suffering with now,’ Janice said. ‘And I never heard that Mr Ralph or Mr Brian at the mill were struck down with anything.’
Mum stared at us all. ‘So, for some reason, for some chance in a zillion, Jayden and I ended up in the very village where presumably I was conceived?’ She turned her beautiful brown eyes on the three of us and then started a little chortle. Which gained momentum until she was giggling, unable to stop.
‘Do something, Jess,’ I said, frightened, as we all moved towards her.
‘I’m fine,’ Mum managed to get out between hiccups. ‘I’m really fine.’ She paused, turning to Janice. ‘And my dad, Janice? This Junayd Sattar? Where is he? Is he still around? Does he even know about me?’
‘Sattar? Hey, Mum, you were out with Kamran Sattar last night.’ Sorrel’s eyes gleamed mischievously. ‘You’ll have to ask him if he knows this mysterious Junayd. They’ve the same surname after all. That would be funny, wouldn’t it, if he knows him?’