Chapter 24

Fran had been married to Nigel for eight years when she heard the news that Barbie was fading fast and wasn’t expected to live much longer. Immediately she asked Nigel if he would come with her as she went down to the care home where Barbie had been living for the past six months to pay what would probably be her last visit. She knew he would not demur – he had turned out to be a kind, gentle man, and beneath the joking exterior there was a surprising sensitivity to her needs and to those of other people, so that she blessed the day when their paths had accidentally crossed.

She knew she had this fighting spirit, which probably meant she wasn’t the easiest person to live with. It wasn’t always easy living with herself. Nigel gave her all the freedom she needed and made few demands – other than that she kept the fridge loaded with cheese and pickle, so that he could make his daily sandwiches. She did her best to enter into his world of old cars and engines, often going for rides with him in the Nippy, which she never came to love, as he did – it was frankly rather a nerve-racking ride – but she enjoyed being out with him. Meanwhile she pursued her career in accountancy, achieving a position with a London firm of high repute. She found her job satisfying, and enjoyed the challenge of it as she had to hold her own against the bright young men there.

There was one issue in the marriage which could not be resolved. They were both getting on in years, and she knew Nigel would have liked a child before it was too late. In many ways Fran would have liked one too, but there was one insurmountable barrier. She had broached the subject, only two weeks previously, when it had been a beautiful weekend, and they had gone out for a picnic.

‘You must think I’m very selfish, letting my baggage get in the way of something so important.’

‘I don’t see it as selfishness. I see it as a total impasse until the basic issue has been explored, and in some way sorted out.’

‘You’re so understanding, as always, which makes me feel worse than ever.’

‘Just see if you can put it into words – that way perhaps we might see a way through, or if not that, at least perhaps a beginning. You see, it’s not just the question of a child. It’s really about you, and your “baggage” as you put it. I can hardly live with you as your husband without being aware that there is something gnawing away at you. For your sake I should like to see you being able to deal with that. So let’s take it out and have a look at it.’

They were sitting on a rug at the edge of a grassy field, their picnic spread out before them. There was little sign of life, other than a few insects who were taking rather too much interest in their sandwiches. Nigel knew some lovely spots where you could wander away from the bustle of city life. Fran always found her spirits lifted and refreshed when they had been out for one of their ‘little jaunts’, as Nigel called them.

If there could be a better time or place to open her heart, it would be difficult to imagine it. Even so Fran had to think hard. It wasn’t easy to express her feelings, but she knew she owed it to her husband.

‘I would love to have a child so much – I can’t tell you – but I can’t bear to inflict on that child the feeling of being in limbo that I have always lived with. When you don’t know who you are, you feel … this is the bit that’s so hard to describe … that you don’t belong anywhere or to anyone. No matter how brilliant your adoptive parents have been, the feeling is still there. You can keep it submerged, and lead a normal life, but it never leaves you. It comes up and hits you at the most unexpected times. I don’t want my child to have to go through that.’

‘You don’t think it would be a little bit different, in that our child would know his parents? And the relatives on my side of the family, such as they are, especially those who aren’t behind bars, are an open book. It’s only your side that is missing.’

‘Of course you are right. I know you are. But there’d still be that whole area where I wouldn’t be able to answer any questions.’

‘I do see that.’

‘Do you know, when I was about nine, my school gave us the task of producing family trees. We had to ask our parents to help us, and go through old family albums – that kind of thing.’

‘Oh dear, I see big problems ahead.’

‘Exactly so. We sat down together and spent a whole day working on it, and when it was finished, instead of being delighted, I argued that it wasn’t right, and I drew another, and all it had on it was my name and two big question marks!’

‘I bet that went down well!’

‘Poor Barbie was dreadfully upset, and Dad made me promise that in future I’d say I wasn’t thinking about it any more, even if I was. That was quite a burden to put on a small girl! And at that tender age I simply couldn’t understand why my mother got so distressed at the thought of me having a natural mother. Of course, as I grew older, I was able to see it from her point of view. I realised she thought I might feel I belonged to my natural mother more than I did to her. As she and Dad had always been so wonderful to me, I simply couldn’t do that to them, so I resolved to wait until they were in a place where it wouldn’t trouble them any more.’

‘Well, you lost Percy last year with his heart attack, and now Barbie is frail and confused, and unlikely to know anything about it – so I suggest you start making some enquiries. The sooner you lay this ghost, the better I think things will be for you.’

‘Oh Nigel – do you really think it would be all right to start the search now?’

‘Yes, I do. After all, I’m sorry to say that I think, for Barbie, it will only be a matter of weeks now.’

Nigel had been right. Barbie’s time was running out fast. Having gone down to be with her, Fran sat at her bedside, holding her hand, but Barbie did not open her eyes. Something told Fran not to go away, so she went and found Nigel, who was giving his car a polish, and told him that she wanted to stay on. He told her not to worry – there was nothing he needed to get back for and he was perfectly happy to wait.

Thanking her lucky stars that she had such a supportive husband, Fran went back inside. Barbie’s breathing had changed, and she was now struggling to draw breaths. The nurse came and said gently that she thought they wouldn’t have long to wait. Fran sat quietly and watched as the miracle happened – the opposite of a new life coming but a miracle just the same – the moment when an old life goes, leaving behind all suffering, and entering a welcome state of peace. She kissed her mother tenderly, tears running down her face.

‘Thank you, dearest Mummy, for everything you did for me, and for all the love you gave me,’ she whispered. ‘You’ve been the best mother in the world, and I shall never forget you.’

Then they went back home and there, on the doormat, was a letter. The search agency she had contacted believed they had traced her natural mother. If she telephoned they would provide details so that she could go and visit.

‘Oh Nigel!’ breathed Fran. ‘This is the moment I have been waiting for. This is what I have been longing for, all my life. I can’t believe it has come at last – and I’m terrified!’

‘Try to take it slowly,’ advised Nigel. ‘She may not immediately be receptive to you.’

‘I know. I know I mustn’t expect too much at the outset. But I am just desperate to go and see her, and find out what she’s like – this woman who gave birth to me almost forty years ago. Oh Nigel, now it’s got to this point, I’m so scared, but I’m so happy too. At long last, everything I’ve been longing for is about to happen!’

Nigel smiled, hoping, for his wife’s sake, the moment was going to be all she had anticipated. But he said nothing.