chapter 3

Mary had been dreading this.

Ever since 1996 when the law in Jersey changed to allow adopted adults sight of their original birth certificates. Until then she had felt safe – safe from the usurpation of her title and role of mother by a complete stranger. At that time Nicole was busy and happy with her job and Tom in England and the danger seemed remote.

But not now.

Nicole had uttered the words Mary had hoped never to hear. Now she was afraid that she would lose the girl she had loved unreservedly since the moment she had first set eyes on her, a little bundle tightly wrapped in a hospital blanket. A mop of dark hair topped a perfectly shaped head and a pair of bright, dark eyes stared straight at her. Mary had known then that there was such a thing as love at first sight. The baby – not yet bearing a name – was three days old and unaware that her mother had left the hospital to return home without the child she had nourished in her womb for nine months. Mary had been unable to understand how a mother could give up her child in that way, but as she was allowed to hold Nicole for the first time was, at the same time, fervently grateful that she had.

Mary married Ian when she was twenty-five and he twenty-eight and had assumed that she would be a mother within a year or two. Ian insisted that she give up work when they married so that she could devote her time to looking after him and their new house. This was fine by her with the prospect of motherhood just around the corner but when, month after month, the dreaded periods arrived exactly on time, Mary became more unhappy with being just a housewife.

After three years of marriage Mary was desperate and took herself off to her doctor.

There followed a round of invasive and, for both of them, embarrassing tests. Mary recalled that awful meeting with the consultant. She had continued to hope that the tests would show that something could be done – a “miracle cure” – and she would instantly become pregnant. She sat with Ian in the consultant’s office, hands tightly clasped, her stomach clenched with anxiety and on hearing his words, ‘I’m … so … sorry … insufficient … eggs … low … sperm … count … chances of conceiving …’ she had felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach and crumpled up in a tearful heap. Ian, his jaw set tight, showed no emotion as he tried to calm her and she remembered thinking that it was all his fault.

As they drove home Mary experienced the varying emotions of sadness, depression and anger. She was angry with her body, with Ian, the doctors and even the proud mothers she saw pushing their prams down the street. She barely left the house for days, dreading bumping into anyone with a baby or small child in tow. Ian was kind and initially treated her with patience as if she was ill, but as the weeks passed his patience grew thin. It was at this point that Mary decided that adoption was the answer after all and rallied enough to pressurise Ian into agreeing with her.

They had been on the adoption waiting list for a year when they heard that they were now top of the list and that a baby was to be offered up for adoption within the next few weeks. Mary read the letter from the Children’s Service twice before she accepted that it was true and phoned Ian at work, something she did rarely, bursting out with excitement, ‘We’re going to have a baby!’ Ian’s pleasure had been more restrained but sufficiently real for him to arrive home earlier than usual, bearing a bunch of deep-red roses, a gesture normally reserved for her birthday.

The next few weeks dragged by for Mary, consumed by the anxiety that something would go wrong; that the pregnant mother would change her mind or the child, heaven forbid, be stillborn. They prepared the room that was to be the nursery but bought little in the way of clothes, furniture or equipment, not wanting to tempt fate.

Then it happened.

The phone call came one Saturday morning as Mary was preparing to leave for her grocery shop.

‘Mrs Le Clerq? Good morning, John Knight from the Children’s Service. I’m happy to tell you that the expectant mother gave birth to a healthy baby girl yesterday. We hope that you and your husband could collect her on Monday. Does that fit in with you? I know it’s short notice but…’

‘That would be perfect, Mr Knight. I’ve got to buy a few things first which I can do today. Oh, thank you so much! The. . .mother’s still agreeing to adoption?’ Mary’s heart was beating so fast she thought she’d burst.

‘Yes, she signed the preliminary forms today and will be leaving the hospital tomorrow. But you know nothing’s final for the next five months and we go to court for the adoption order.’

Mary arranged to be at the hospital with Ian on Monday morning. As she put the phone down he came into the hall and Mary threw her arms around him, saying, ‘We have a little girl and we’ve got to go out and buy everything she’ll need, now!’

 

***

‘Mum, are you all right? I’m sorry if I’ve given you a shock, the last thing I want is to upset you.’ Nicole chewed her lip as she gazed at her mother’s strained face.

Mary seemed to come back from wherever she’d been and smiled at Nicole.

‘I’m fine, darling. I was just remembering the first time I saw you. It was in the hospital and you were like a china doll. I was afraid you’d break if I dropped you. I’d never held such a small baby before and you just stared up at me with your big eyes as if to say “And who are you, then?” Didn’t she, Ian?’ Her mother turned to him and he nodded, reaching out for her hand.

Nicole was close to choking on the lump in her throat and gulped some wine. She’d never given any thought to how it must have been for her parents to be handed a tiny scrap and told it was theirs to take home and care for.

‘I guess it would have felt quite weird suddenly becoming parents without the usual nine months preparation.’

‘It was certainly scary! My mother offered me all sorts of advice, but as I was born just after the war things had changed rather a lot and, of course I was breast fed, no bottle feeding in those days! But I did have my trusty Dr Spock to guide me and my health visitor was wonderful. So we all survived.’

Nicole found it difficult to say anything, it being clear from her mother’s tight expression that she was trying hard to be brave. She took another sip of wine before continuing.

‘If I do find my … natural mother, it’s not going to stop me loving you both. After all, you’re the ones who raised me, educated me and gave me such a good start in life. You chose to be my parents and that’s something no-one else can take from you. I only want to find out how I became me and that’ll be easier if I can meet with the woman who…who gave birth to me. Then I’ll have the whole picture and not just the half of my upbringing.’ Nicole blew her nose as tears started in her eyes.

Her parents looked at each other before her mother patted Nicole’s arm.

‘It’s all right, Nicole. We do understand, it’s only natural that you want to trace your … your birth mother. Have you made any enquiries yet?’

Nicole shook her head.

‘No, I wanted to tell you both first. I know I can obtain a copy of my original birth certificate and I was planning to request it when I arrive in Jersey. Thought I’d go there after spending some time here with you.’ She twirled her wine glass, feeling reluctant to ask the all-important question. ‘Do…do you know anything about her, Mum?’

Her mother darted a look at her father, who nodded.

‘Not very much. As the islands have an inter-island adoption policy we knew the mother would be from Guernsey. We were told that she was an unmarried teacher who’d spent time in Jersey before giving birth.’

Nicole sat motionless, except for her hand swirling the wine around in her glass.

‘So, I’m actually a donkey and not a crapaud!’ She grinned at the islanders’ names for each other, trying to relieve the palpable tension.

‘Would that matter, darling?’

‘No, I guess not. Just means my search will take me to Guernsey as well as Jersey. At least I’m less likely to have already bumped into her. But it’s not as if she’s at the other side of the world. Though I guess she might have emigrated like so many islanders.’ She frowned. Oh no, it would be awful if she had to trek around the world in search of her mother. Please God, let her still be in Guernsey, she prayed.

‘So, that’s all you know?’

‘Yes, darling. I’m sorry, but I’m sure you’ll learn more in Jersey.’

Nicole nodded, disappointed.

Ian cleared his throat, saying briskly, ‘Well, we wish you all the best with your search, Nicole. Now, what would you like to do while you’re here? There’s a very good tennis club your mother has joined.’ It was clear her father wanted to draw the focus away from a subject he found painful.

‘Tennis sounds good, Dad. But only when it’s not too hot!’

‘How about early tomorrow morning? I can book a court and then we can show you around the town,’ her mother suggested, her face clearing, as if she too was happy to leave behind the spectre of Nicole’s search.

Her mother went off to book the tennis court and they spent the rest of the evening discussing the cruise. Nicole admired the many photos they’d taken, giving all her attention to her parents. She was touched by their solicitude, keen to make her as comfortable and welcome as possible. She caught herself wondering if it was their fear of losing her that had triggered off the unusual warmth now emanating from them. Or maybe soaking up the sun in this lovely country had allowed them to finally relax. She sighed. Whatever had wrought the change she was happy to accept it, looking forward to their time together. Something she’d been ambivalent about until now. As long as no-one mentioned Tom or her search for her mother, all would be well.