As I get up, I notice that she hasn’t brushed her hair properly today. I make a mental note to help her before I leave.
I go into the kitchen and put the kettle on. Then I carry the teas and a plate of Bourbons back to Mum.
“Here you go. Nice and strong, just how you like it.”
“How I like my men more like,” she quips. “God bless your father, but he never really filled that mould.”
“Mum!”
“Don’t give me that look. I loved your father for many other reasons.” She picks up a biscuit and nibbles at it. “I know it’s not fashionable to say now, but when I was a girl, we wanted to be taken care of. That’s all we wanted. A husband who went to work and came home and loved his children.” She sighs.
“Dad did that,” I say. “He came home every single day, and he loved you.”
She nods. “We never spent a night away from each other. Not one.”
An unexpected well of tears springs into my eyes. I turn away, wiping them with my fingers.
“Whatever is the matter, Faye?” Mum asks. “Is my company that bad?”
I laugh, sniffling through the sudden rush of feelings. “Sorry. Just a tad emotional today.”
“You’re dwelling on the past, that’s why. Looking back doesn’t do anyone any good, does it?”
“But I can’t exactly look forward either, can I?”
This time Mum’s eyes fill with tears, and I regret burdening her. I reach out and grab her hand, giving it a squeeze.
“Come on,” I say. “We’re not going to sit here blubbering all afternoon. Eat your biscuit, drink your tea and tell me about my adoption. I want to know everything.”
“Fine.” She tuts slightly, a smile playing on her lips. I sound like her, and it delights her. But I know the moment her thoughts drift back to the seventies because her expression darkens. “Before we adopted you, I had a miscarriage.” She wraps her hands together. “Actually, I had more than one. I had four. And I said to your father that I didn’t want to go through that again. I said the only way we could have a child was through adoption.”
I nod but I hadn’t known about the miscarriages.
“We put our names down on a waiting list,” she continued. “That is, after we had several interviews to make sure we were suitable. And then we had to wait.” Her hands tighten, turning the skin on her fingers bone white.
I pull in a shuddering breath. “Do you know anything about the woman who put me up for adoption?”
Mum’s jaw tightens. “At the time, we never wanted names. We didn’t want to walk down the street and see her and know that she is your mother by blood. We wanted a clean break.” She shakes her head sadly. “I never understood how someone could give up a child like that. But I’ll always be grateful to her because if she hadn’t, I wouldn’t have you.”
I reach over and stroke her hand. “And I’ll always be glad that it brought me to you.” I pull away, trying to compose myself. “Mum, is there any chance I had a brother or sister? Maybe a twin? Did the doctors comment on my birth weight? On the damage the mother went through during labour? Did anyone say that something didn’t add up?”
She frowns then, and her skin crinkles between her eyebrows. “No. I don’t remember that at all. What a strange thing to think. Why are you asking that?”
I don’t want to mention the photograph. “I keep getting an odd feeling I can’t shake. But it’s nothing. It doesn’t matter.”
“I have to confess something to you, Faye. I did keep something that may help you.”
“What is it?”
“After your father and I told you about the adoption, I went back to the agency, and I asked for the name of your mother. I found out then that she’d already reached out in the hope of finding you, but they’d called your father, and he’d put a stop to it.” She lets out a long sigh. “I had a different view. I asked them to place your birth mother’s name and address in an envelope and seal it. And I said I would pass it on to you if you ever wanted to find her. But you made it clear that you didn’t want to do that.”
“What did you do with the envelope, Mum?” I ask. “You don’t still have it, do you?”
“It’s in my dresser, darling. I would never throw something like that away.”
CHAPTER9
FAYE
