Chapter 20

‘Mum! Dad! I need some help with my homework!’

Barbie and Percy were surprised to hear this request from Fran, now nine years old, as she normally got straight down to her projects without requiring any assistance from them. This was just as well since they freely admitted she had already outstripped their academic abilities in most areas. Barbie had undoubted capabilities when it came to post office matters and Percy, for his part, was quick at mental arithmetic, rarely making a mistake when giving change to customers. But as they had both left school at the earliest opportunity and knew their particular areas of expertise were limited, it was a relief to find that their little girl rarely referred any school problems to them.

On this occasion, however, the class had been told that they would need to co-opt help from their parents, who would have the information required. Fran produced a large sheet of paper on which, at the bottom, was written her own name, in a box.

‘We have to build a family tree. Mrs Seymour showed us how, only she said we would need to sit down with our parents, who would probably have to find certificates, and photos to help fill it in.’

‘Goodness,’ said Barbie. ‘That’s quite a task. Not sure I remember too clearly who my ancestors were.’

‘How far is it supposed to go back?’ asked Percy. ‘I haven’t much knowledge, either.’

‘Mrs Seymour said it didn’t matter. She said some parents might only know one or two generations, while others might be able to go back several. She said she just wanted us to learn how to build it, and never mind if it wasn’t very big. She said she didn’t want a whole lot of angry parents at the school door on Monday morning because they had spent every minute of the weekend trying to find out the names of all their aunts and uncles!’

‘I tell you what,’ said Percy, ‘we’ll sit down with you on Saturday evening, after the shop’s shut, and see what photos and papers we can find. Then on Sunday we’ll devote the whole day to it. How would that be?’

‘I don’t know that I’m going to be much help,’ worried Barbie. ‘I’ve gone quite blank trying to think of people.’

‘It’s all right,’ said Fran. ‘It doesn’t matter if we don’t have too many people on it. As long as I can build it up a bit, so I can show Mrs Seymour I know how to do it. Thanks, Mum and Dad.’

When Saturday evening came they spread out on the dining table all the certificates and photo albums they could lay their hands on, although Percy carefully omitted Fran’s short birth certificate which he had filed away. Then they got side-tracked as they opened the old albums and started laughing at some of the pictures.

‘Look at my mother sitting in a deckchair on the beach!’ cried Barbie. ‘Her dress is down to her ankles and she’s got a hat on!’

‘Who’s that strange looking man with the wing collar, smoking a pipe?’ Percy got quite excited looking back at the memorabilia they had produced. ‘I tell you what, we made a mistake not writing down the names of people at the time – you think you’ll always remember them, but you don’t.’

‘Well, let’s make a start.’ Fran was eager to get on with it. ‘First I’ll draw a vertical line above my name, and then a horizontal line, with two small vertical ones above that, and I’ll put you two down.’

‘Only you must put my maiden name down,’ said Barbie. ‘You know what that was, don’t you Fran, dear?’

‘Yes, it was Murdoch. And I know Grandpa is Sam Murdoch, and I know Auntie June is your sister, and Grandpa’s other daughter.’

‘That’s right. And we can put in Grandma’s name, which was Doris. See, we’re gradually getting it done. Shame we never see Grandpa now – he’s got so ill it isn’t possible.’ Barbie skirted round the fact that poor Grandpa had Alzheimer’s Disease to such an advanced degree that he didn’t know anyone, and it would have been too distressing to take Fran to see him.

‘You don’t have any brothers or sisters, do you Daddy? You’re like me, an only child, aren’t you?’

‘That’s right, but we can fill in the names of my parents. Then we’ll see if we can do anything on the line above.’

Slowly they began to fill it in. They got to their own grandparents, and after much discussion they thought they had correctly remembered how many offspring each had produced, and the names, although they weren’t too sure.

‘I suppose it doesn’t really matter too much,’ said Percy. ‘After all Mrs Seymour won’t know if we’ve got it right or not.’

The finished chart looked quite impressive in the end, although it was clear that neither family had been large, with Percy not having any siblings, and Barbie having just the one sister. However, by the time they had gone back two generations it seemed the productivity levels were higher.

‘There,’ said Barbie. ‘That’s very nice, dear. You can go back to school on Monday feeling we’ve done a good job.’

Fran was silent. Percy sensed that she was wrestling with something and feared he probably knew what it was. ‘What is it, Fran dear?’ he asked.

‘This isn’t right, is it?’

‘What do you mean dear?’ asked Barbie, innocently. ‘What’s not right?’

‘Well,’ said Fran, ‘this isn’t my family tree. It’s yours, and Daddy’s, but it isn’t mine. Those aren’t my ancestors.’

Percy stepped in quickly. ‘Well yes, they are. As you know, you are ours by adoption. It was legally done, so everything is legally the same for you as for us. This is your family just the same.’

‘But they aren’t …’ Fran struggled to find the word, ‘they aren’t the people I descended from. They aren’t my blood relations.’

‘It doesn’t make any difference.’ Barbie was beginning to get agitated. ‘They’re all your ancestors, like Daddy says.’

‘It makes a difference to me,’ said Fran obstinately. ‘I’m going to draw my own family tree.’

She took another sheet of paper – a smaller one this time – and wrote her name in a box at the bottom. Then she drew a vertical line and put a horizontal line across with two small vertical ones on top. On these she put two large question marks.

‘There,’ she said, ‘I’ve done it. That’s my family tree.’

Barbie began to cry. ‘Why do you have to think like this, Fran? Haven’t we been good parents to you? Haven’t we loved you from the day you came to us? Why can’t you just accept us and forget that there was anyone else?’

‘Because I can’t forget! I can’t! And you shouldn’t ask me to.’

With that Fran grabbed the two family trees from the table and went up to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

Percy went upstairs to speak to her. She had obviously been crying. He begged her to come back downstairs and make her peace with Barbie, who was sobbing her heart out. Fran hated upsetting her mother, but there was something inside her that could not let the matter rest.

‘Why can’t Mummy understand, Daddy? I love her very, very much, but I can’t help it, I can’t just put out of my mind what happened to me. I know that there were two people, who I don’t know anything about, who made me. And it’s so cross-making that I don’t know who they are, and I’m not allowed to try and find out. But even if I think about it sometimes it doesn’t change anything with you and Mummy – I love you as my Mummy and Daddy – why can’t Mummy understand that?’

‘I don’t know, Fran, but the fact is that she sees it as a kind of disloyalty, and whatever you or I say we can’t seem to change that. I’m going to ask you to do something. It’s something grownups sometimes do for the sake of the people they love. Could you pretend a little? Could you tell Mummy you really have put all those past events that you don’t know about out of your head? It would make her so happy.’

‘You mean lie?’

‘It’s called a white lie. It’s only done because you don’t want to hurt someone who’s important to you. So it’s not really lying. You’re doing it because you want to be kind.’

Fran nodded. ‘I will, as long as you understand how I feel. I need to be honest with someone.’

Percy nodded.

‘I do understand. I know it must be difficult for you, but you’d make Mummy so happy, that’s for sure.’

Fran smiled at him gratefully, returned to the living room and kissed her mother. She said dutifully that she was sorry she had caused her unhappiness and promised she would not think about it any more from now on. Percy, standing behind her, saw she had crossed her fingers behind her back.

The next day she came back from school saying they had had lots of fun in class comparing their family trees. One or two, apparently, had gone back several generations, and all the children thought their parents had enjoyed the trip down memory lane.

Later, when Barbie took some clean clothes up to Fran’s bedroom to put them away, she noticed a piece of paper tightly screwed into a ball, lying in the waste paper bin. Out of curiosity she picked it up and opened it. It was Fran’s family tree – the second one, with the two question marks.