by Lily Baxter
She sank down on her knees and slipped her arms around his neck. ‘You’d better tell your squadron leader that I’ve been waiting for three years for this moment, and he’s got to give you leave very soon, because tonight I’m going to lose my reputation.’
‘Is that a yes?’
She answered him with a kiss. ‘Yes, yes, yes.’
Susan was a summer bride. Bob gave her away and Roz was her matron of honour. Jennifer was a proud bridesmaid and Charlie wore a bow in his collar. Susan wore a long white wedding dress, which was her present from Elspeth and Colin who planned to be married in the register office the following month. The village church was redolent with the scent of roses, honeysuckle and mock orange blossom, and it was packed with guests. Almost everyone in the village had come and to Susan’s surprise and pleasure most of Number 15 ferry pool turned up to wish her well.
Dave had travelled from London with his sister, and although Susan had been nervous about meeting Aunt Maida again she was pleasantly surprised to find the redoubtable woman was much more amenable now. Perhaps the war had softened her, or maybe it was because Susan had proved herself to be a worthy adversary. Whatever it was, Susan was relieved and delighted.
After the ceremony they set off for the short walk to the pub. Everyone crowded into the bar for champagne and cucumber sandwiches, followed by jam tarts and one of Mrs Delaney’s wedding cakes, the cardboard cover ageing and slightly battered but still in use. The party spilled out into the flower scented garden where Bob had strung paper lanterns in the trees and bushes. For Susan it was the happiest day of her life. She still had to stop and pinch herself from time to time just to make certain she was not dreaming.
That evening, when the pub finally closed, Dave drew Susan and Tony aside as they were about to leave for the cottage, where they had opted to spend their wedding night before setting off next day for a brief honeymoon in Devon. He cleared his throat, gazing at them with a misty smile. ‘I expect you’re wondering what I could possibly add to the wonderful things that have already been said about you both.’ He led Susan towards the settle in the ingle nook. ‘You’d better sit down, my dear. I’ve got something very important that I’ve been saving up until the guests had gone.’
She sank down on the hard wooden seat, glancing up at Tony. ‘We’re not in a hurry, are we, darling?’
He grinned, taking her hand and sitting down beside her. ‘Of course not. What is it, Dad?’
Dave stood with his back to the empty fireplace. He ran his finger round the inside of his collar, gazing at Susan with a nervous smile. ‘You told me a long time ago that your dearest wish was to find out about your parents.’
She nodded her head, tightening her grasp on Tony’s hand. ‘It was, but it doesn’t matter so much now. You and Tony are my family. I don’t need anyone else.’
‘That’s as maybe, love, but I’m sure you’d like some answers.’ He shot a sideways glance at his sister, who had come into the bar clutching a cup of tea. She gave him an encouraging nod.
‘Get on with it, David.’
He cleared his throat again. ‘With Maida’s help I took it upon myself to find out about your mother, Susan. I drew a blank at the children’s home. They couldn’t or wouldn’t tell me anything, so I decided to go and see Mrs Kemp. I thought she must have had some knowledge of your background before she took you on – but she told me where to go in no uncertain terms.’
Susan pulled a face. ‘That sounds like the old bat.’
‘Exactly so. Anyway, I was just leaving when her housekeeper drew me aside. It was Mrs Wilson, the woman who was kind to you in the early days, Susan. She’d decided to return to her old job because she couldn’t stand living with relations. To cut a long story short, she told me that Mrs Kemp had had a younger sister who died giving birth to an illegitimate baby twenty-three years ago.’
Susan stared at him, puzzled. ‘That’s all very well, but what has it got to do with me?’
‘Mrs Wilson said that the child’s grandmother was distraught, and she named the baby Susan, in memory of her dead daughter. She wanted to raise the infant herself, but the rest of the family would have none of it. They hushed up the affair and, as far as Mrs Wilson knew, the baby was put out for adoption.’
Leaning against Tony, Susan felt his arm tighten around her shoulders. She reached into her pocket for a hanky. ‘That’s so sad.’
‘But it’s not the end of it,’ Dave said, smiling. ‘The name and the date seemed to tally, so I took a chance and went to Somerset House requesting a copy of the birth certificate of Susan Scantlebery, which was Mrs Kemp’s maiden name.’ He put his hand into his breast pocket and took out a slip of paper, handing it to Susan. ‘You weren’t lying when you told Tony that you belonged in that house, my dear. Your unfortunate mother was Mrs Kemp’s sister, and your father was a young man who worked as a clerk in her father’s business.’
‘I can’t take this in.’ Susan stared at the birth certificate, shaking her head. ‘My mother was Susan Scantlebery and my father was Frank Baylis.’ She looked up at Dave, her hand trembling as she clutched the document. ‘Did you find him? Does he know about me?’
‘I’m sorry, love.’ Dave shook his head. ‘Frank was killed in a motorcycle accident six months before you were born. He never had the chance to make things right for your mum.’
Tony slipped his arm around her waist. ‘Are you all right, Susan?’
She shook her head, dazed but happy. ‘I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe it. I wasn’t abandoned because my mum and dad didn’t want me.’ She frowned, even more confused now than before. ‘But why did Mrs Kemp take me from the orphanage? I don’t understand.’
‘The old battleaxe must have had second thoughts,’ Dave said slowly. ‘Maybe she regretted what she’d done, or perhaps she simply wanted to keep an eye on you so that you had no chance of finding out your true identity. You were a living reminder of an old family scandal and she wanted it kept in the past.’
Tony squeezed her hand. ‘If you want to go back there and face her, I’ll come with you, darling. I won’t let the old cow bully you.’
Susan was silent for a moment. She could feel the tension in the bar as everyone stopped talking and waited for her answer. She took a deep breath. ‘I know you would, Tony, but I never want to see that awful woman again, or her hateful daughters.’ She leapt to her feet and threw her arms around Dave’s neck. ‘But thank you, Dad. I can’t believe you went to all that trouble just for me.’
He flushed and gave her a gentle hug before extricating himself from her grasp. ‘It was the least I could do for my new daughter.’
She sank back onto the settle. ‘I’d like to find out more about my mother and Frank, of course, but maybe it’s best if I just leave them in peace. At least they’re together for all eternity, and perhaps that’s where I should let them lie.’
‘Very wise, my darling.’ Tony drew her into the circle of his arms. ‘I love you with all my heart, Susan. I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.’
She smiled up into his eyes, knowing that this was the man with whom she wanted to spend the rest of her life. ‘I love you too, and I’ve got all the family I need.’ She glanced over her shoulder at Bob, Roz and Danny gathered round the bar with Aunt Maida. ‘I came home a long time ago.’ She chuckled as Charlie laid his head on her lap, looking up at her with adoring eyes and wagging tail. ‘And of course I love you, Charlie. If it hadn’t been for you, none of this would have happened. I’m so happy, I could cry.’
‘No tears, Susan.’ Bob stepped forward, raising his glass. ‘I want to propose a toast to the happy couple – and in particular to our very own Spitfire Girl!’
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Copyright © Lily Baxter 2011
Lily Baxter has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work
This novel is a work of fiction. Apart from references to actual historical figures and places, all other names and characters are a product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental
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First published in Great Britain in 2011 by
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