by Allen, Anne
You can write to me at the above address or phone me on 01534 180260.
I look forward to hearing from you,
Best wishes
Nicole.
After posting the letter she took a deep breath before phoning Spain.
A few days later she received a letter from Guernsey. But she knew something was wrong as it was from the Guernsey Post Office and inside the envelope was her letter, marked “Return to sender, no longer at this address.”
chapter 7
Nicole swallowed her disappointment and sent the letter on to the address of Hélène’s parents in Torteval. Not really a religious person, having been bored rigid in church as a child, she now decided to hedge her bets and pray. Couldn’t do any harm, she reasoned, praying that Hélène was still in Guernsey and would somehow, soon, get her letter.
Whether or not there had indeed been divine intervention, a few days later she had a phone call.
‘Hello.’
‘Is that Nicole Oxford?’ a woman’s voice she didn’t recognise. Neither young nor old but somehow diffident.
‘Yes. Who’s calling?’
‘I’m Hélène Ferbrache. You wrote to me.’
Oh, my God, it’s her! Nicole gasped and her hand holding the phone trembled.
‘Mm, hello. Thanks for phoning. How…how are you?’ Nicole, usually the most articulate of people, felt suddenly lost for words.
‘I’m fine, thanks. I…was so pleased to hear from you. I wasn’t sure if I ever would, had convinced myself that, after all this time, I wouldn’t.’ Nicole heard the woman draw a deep breath. ‘That you hadn’t given me a thought. Were happy in your own life.’
There followed a long pause.
‘Well, to be honest I hadn’t always planned to get in touch. I had such a busy life in England but I think, deep down, I’d always wanted to know more about you. Now…now feels like the right time.’ Nicole’s mind whirled. What to say? ‘Mm, I was so happy to learn that you wanted me to contact you, but then found you’d moved.’
A deep sigh echoed down the line.
‘Yes, I had to…move in with my mother about three years ago. My father died several years ago and now Mother can’t manage on her own.’
Nicole heard the edge of bitterness in her voice.
‘Oh, I see. You didn’t…marry?’ Nicole felt as if someone else was asking the questions, as if she wasn’t actually part of this conversation. Hélène sounded strained, too.
‘No. The opportunity never, er, presented itself. You’re my only child.’ Again the edge of bitterness could be heard.
‘Right, well my parents didn’t have any more children either. And all my grandparents are dead.’ Nicole had a thought. ‘Except your mother. So I do have a grandmother.’
‘Yes, and I’m sure she’d love to meet you sometime.’ Another pause and Nicole heard Hélène take a sip of something. Dutch courage, perhaps? She wished she had a drink to hand herself. Her head was all over the place and her hands felt clammy.
Hélène continued. ‘Of course, we’d have to meet first and see how we get on. If… you still want to, that is…’ Her voice tailed off.
Nicole’s emotions were mixed. On the one hand she had set this in motion and had convinced herself it was necessary to meet her mother; on the other she felt as scared as Hélène sounded. Taking a deep breath she replied, ‘Oh, yes. I’d really like to come over and meet you and then we could see…’
‘Good.’ Hélène’s voice sounded brighter. ‘The school holidays start next week so I’ll be at home. Would you come over for the day?’
‘Yes, sounds good. How about Monday?’
‘Fine with me. I’ll pick you up from the airport and we can go somewhere to talk and…get to know each other.’
After taking down Hélène’s phone number Nicole said goodbye and sat for a while, lost in thought. She had rehearsed what she’d planned to say when they first spoke to each other but somehow it had all gone out of her head. Her mother was now a real person, not just a name in a file, on a piece of paper. And in a few days she’d actually see, and be able to touch, this woman who had nurtured her in her body for nine months, given birth to her but then let another woman take her. Right, she thought, got a lot of phone calls to make…
It was years since Nicole had been over to Guernsey and she didn’t know it very well. So much smaller than Jersey, it looked from the plane to consist of more densely populated areas and fewer open fields than her home island. The tiny plane, sporting a red nose and called Joey, was one of the island hoppers connecting the two largest Channel Islands. It performed a slightly bumpy landing before taxiing up to the terminal. She was through to the main hall in moments and looked around for Hélène, who had told her she’d be wearing a red linen skirt and white top and had medium length, light brown hair.
There she was! Standing apart from the huddle of people ready to welcome other passengers, a hesitant smile on her face. Nicole thought she looked familiar, the hazel eyes…She moved closer.
‘Nicole? I’m Hélène. It’s so good to see you at last!’
They faced each other, both uncertain of the right move. After a moment’s hesitation, Hélène reached out and gave Nicole a hug.
Nicole pulled back gently so that she could take a look at this stranger who was not a stranger. Her hair, although touched with grey, was a similar shade to her own. They had the same eyes but not the mouth. Hélène’s mouth was smaller, thinner and etched with lines matching those around the eyes, making her look older than her years. She doesn’t look happy. Nicole felt a spurt of sympathy.
‘Well, we can’t stand here all day or people will talk!’ Hélène broke into the silence hanging over them. She led the way to her car and as she unlocked it said, ‘I thought we could go to a place nearby on the cliffs. We can sit outside and have a coffee or something.’
‘Fine by me.’ Nicole felt her palms moistening and wiped them on her jeans.
They drove in silence down winding lanes leading from the airport, finally coming to rest in an area signposted Le Gouffre, where Helen parked outside a bright, cheery café with views out to sea.
‘It’s a Greek restaurant and if we want to stay for lunch I can recommend the food,’ Hélène said. They chose a table set away from the others, offering a clear view over the valley.
‘What a lovely spot!’
‘Yes, isn’t it? I come here when I need to get out of the house. I go for a long walk on the cliff path before recovering here with a coffee.’ Hélène smoothed down her skirt before adding, ‘How about a glass of wine instead of coffee? Might help us both relax a bit.’
‘Yep, great. Feels like a blind date but somehow scarier,’ she smiled at Hélène.
The older woman nodded in agreement and they ordered wine.
It helped.
‘Nicole, as you’re the one who’s set this in motion, it’s only fair that you ask the questions. I’m happy to tell you anything you want to know.’
‘Thanks. Could you start by telling me a bit more about yourself and your family?’
Hélène took a deep breath.
‘I was born here just after the war. My parents, Eve and Reg, were growers in Torteval and my mother and I still live in the old family home. I’m an only child, my mother miscarried after me and that was it.’ She took a sip of wine. ‘My father was quite a bit older than my mother and he retired in 1980. He…died of a heart attack in 2000.’ For a moment she was quiet, biting her lips.
‘I’m sorry.’
After a muttered thanks, Hélène continued.
‘I…I was very close to Dad. It was a shock as he’d always been so strong. I was living in my house in Town and for a while Mother managed on her own. But her health started to deteriorate three years ago so I moved back to help her.’
‘That must have been a big sacrifice.’
She gave a short laugh. ‘It was. She’s very independent and resent
s my being there but neither of us has much choice. It’s either that or she’d have to go into care. Not really an option. As I don’t have my own family to take care of, it would be frowned on if I put her in a home.’
‘Mm, sounds like you don’t get on with your mother,’ Nicole looked at her, sensing a bitter woman. Could this really be my mother? She’s not at all what I imagined.
‘Well, I admit I was a lot closer to Dad. And Mother and I used to get on fairly well when he was alive. It’s just a bit…difficult living together. Two women, no man around to act as ballast.’
Nicole nodded. ‘Yes, I can understand that. You’d rather be in your own home.’
‘For sure! But that’s the way it is so we both have to get on with it. And as her health is only going to get worse not better I know it’s not forever,’ Hélène sighed. ‘She’s eighty-five but physically seems much older.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ Her stomach clenched as she asked the vital question. ‘Mm, Hélène, could you tell me something about my father, please?’
chapter 8
Hélène twisted a turquoise ring on her right hand as she considered the question.
‘His name’s Adrian and he was another teacher at the school so we were thrown together quite a lot and became…friends. We spent hours just chatting in the staff room when we had free periods, finding we had so much in common.’ Hélène seemed to drift off somewhere before gathering herself and taking a sip of wine.
‘I fell in love with him. And Adrian said he loved me but…’ She faced her daughter.
‘He was married, you see. He’d married young, only twenty-four, but his…his wife was pregnant with their daughter and he had to marry her. She was a Catholic and although Adrian wasn’t, that’s what you did if you were “caught”.’ Her face tightened, the frown lines etched even deeper into her forehead.
Nicole watched the emotions chase across Hélène’s face. Hurt, anger…love? She felt a pang of pity for her until she remembered her own situation. Tom had cheated on her and could have fathered a child by another woman. The thought triggered the familiar ache in her solar plexus and she wanted to lash out.
‘My husband’s been cheating on me and it’s been bloody painful! I’ve felt totally betrayed. It’s not a nice thing to do, sleep with another woman’s husband.’ Her voice was icy cold.
Hélène gasped, moving back in her seat as if to ward off a blow.
‘I’m so sorry about your husband. You’re right, it’s not a nice thing to do, to be the “other woman”. I never set out to have an affair with a married man, I can assure you. I tried hard not to fall in love with Adrian. But we got on so well and it was common knowledge that his marriage wasn’t happy. His wife hardly ever went anywhere with him and on the odd occasion I met them together she seemed a cold sort of woman who put him down.’
Nicole felt her anger subside a little. But she needed to know more.
‘So, what happened between you and Adrian?’ Her tone only slightly warmer.
Hélène breathed a deep sigh.
‘We became close but had to meet in secret, at my place. Guernsey’s too small and we were too well known to risk going out in public. I know it was wrong of me, us, but we needed to be together, if only for snatched moments. But it wasn’t much fun knowing I couldn’t see him for birthdays and Christmas or go away on holiday together. It was like living a half-life.’ She stopped to take another sip of wine and asked, ‘Look, would you mind if we had something to eat? I was too nervous to have any breakfast.’
‘So was I!’
They ordered a selection of mezethes together with more wine and a jug of water.
For a few moments they ate in silence, both deep in thought. Nicole’s mind was filled with images of Hélène and this faceless man, Adrian, her father, drawn together but not together.
‘Is my…father still alive?’
Hélène looked surprised. ‘Yes, of course he is. Why wouldn’t he be?’
‘Oh, I just wondered. Only he seemed to be in your past, not your present.’ Nicole felt relief surge through her. If he was alive then she might meet him too!
‘I see. We stopped being lovers after I found I was pregnant with you. I’d hoped he would leave his wife and marry me but he wouldn’t, couldn’t. She would never have agreed to a divorce and Adrian didn’t feel he could continue teaching here if we were living in sin.’ She gave a hollow laugh. ‘He was very ambitious, wanted to become a headmaster, which he did some years later. But he had to avoid scandal at all costs. Or so he said.’
She looked Nicole squarely in the eye.
‘You have to understand that Guernsey was a very judgmental society. Still is, a bit. Hypocritical too, as lots of people have found to their cost. For us to be together, with you, would have meant leaving the island. And he wouldn’t do that. It would’ve meant not seeing his children.’ She gulped some wine
‘Children? How many did he have?’ Nicole’s heart thumped. She was also his child!
‘Two, a boy and a girl. After the boy was born, Adrian told me that they never… slept together again. His wife didn’t want more children and as a Catholic…’
‘Mm. Does my father know what happened to…to me?’
Hélène reached out to hold her hand.
‘Yes, of course. At least he knew I was going to have my baby adopted. He wasn’t a bad man, Nicole. He just wasn’t brave enough to lose everything he’d achieved. I gave in my notice at school and went over to Jersey before I began to show. I stayed with a distant cousin until the birth and then returned here and got a job in another school. A girl’s school with no young male teachers!’
‘You…you never considered keeping me?’ Nicole stammered. She was surprised by her feelings of rejection – odd, after all these years.
Hélène’s face went white.
‘I…I didn’t feel I had much choice. It would have meant giving up being a teacher here, making it difficult for me to support us both. And I couldn’t leave Guernsey as it meant deserting my parents.’ She looked down at her hands and again twisted her ring. As she lifted her head, Nicole saw the tears in her eyes and had to force herself not to soften.
‘I can see now that I was just as much a coward as Adrian. But I’d never considered myself as maternal. Teaching other people’s unruly children can be off-putting.’ Her mouth twisted. ‘But when I first saw you, held you in my arms, I felt such a rush of love for you I was overwhelmed. I’d never experienced anything like it! It was so powerful that I nearly changed my mind about letting you go.’ Tears were now streaming down her face and she wiped at her face to stop them.
‘What…what stopped you?’
‘I realised that I’d still have to face the challenge of what to do, where to go. And I knew there was a young couple desperate for a child, waiting for you. Waiting and willing to give you all that I couldn’t. The love and care of a mother and a father.’
chapter 9
The two women sat in silence for a while, lost in thought, while Hélène dabbed at her eyes.
Nicole tried to imagine what it would have been like being brought up by a single mother struggling to cope on her own in England. Very different from her own comfortable upbringing in Jersey. And she had the advantage of Hélène as she’d been loved. Loved not only by her adoptive parents but by Tom, in spite of his transgressions. Whereas Hélène had lost not only her lover but her daughter. She began to feel less angry about Hélène’s rejection of her.
‘Hélène? Are you all right?’ Nicole touched her arm.
She had started crying again and retrieved a tissue from her bag.
‘Sorry. I…I was miles away.’ She looked pale.
‘I understand. It must be very painful for you to go over it all again. May I ask what happened with…Adrian?’
‘Of course. When I told him about my pregnancy he…he made it clear he couldn’t be with me, which is what I’d half expected,
so I…we agreed not to see each other again. Not easy as we still worked together! But it was only for a term, before I left for Jersey. We lost touch after that.’
Nicole heard the pain in her voice.
‘So he doesn’t know I’m here? That we’re meeting?’ Nicole wasn’t sure whether to be relieved that he was still alive or sad that he didn’t know she was on the island.
Hélène shook her head.
‘No. I haven’t spoken to him for years. Did you…want to meet him?’
‘Well, I guess so. But I don’t want to cause any problems, for you or him, or his, er, wife.’ Nicole saw the fear in Hélène’s eyes. She obviously didn’t want to see Adrian again.
‘It won’t be a problem for his wife. She died three years ago. Cancer.’ Her mouth became a tight thin line.
Mmm, so that’s why she’s bitter. Why hadn’t Adrian contacted her? Bastard! Perhaps I shouldn’t bother meeting him after all. She could feel her own anger beginning to rise as it occurred to her that he might not want to meet her either!
Hélène looked around.
‘Would it be better if we left here? I think we’ve been attracting some attention with all these tears. Do you feel up to meeting my mother?’
Nicole wasn’t sure if she did. But how could she say no? ‘Oh…okay. Then she knows I’m here?’
Hélène looked sheepish.
‘I told her about you after our first telephone call.’ She hesitated, her hands twisting her handkerchief. ‘I’d never told her I’d had a child.’
‘Oh, my God! That must have been quite a shock. Why didn’t you tell her when you were pregnant?’
‘I don’t really know. Shame, partly. And I thought that the fewer who knew, the better. I could then pretend it had never happened.’ They had stood up to leave and Hélène must have seen the hurt on Nicole’s face, as she enveloped her in a warm hug, whispering, ‘But now I’m very glad it did happen. I have a beautiful daughter!’
