Bob’s calm approach and his continued support reassured Jane. She changed the subject to deal with practical matters. ‘Will it be OK, then, if I pick you up at about seven? That should give us plenty of time.’
As usual, Bob was fully compliant. ‘That’ll be fine. I’ll be ready.’
‘Great. I’m going to bed soon, as I’ll have to get up at five,’ Jane announced.
Bob’s next suggestion was quite unexpected. ‘Just one more thing,’ he said. ‘When we come back, how would you like to stay over with me here? There’s a delightful pub we can walk to for a meal.’
Jane quickly got over her surprise. ‘I’d love to,’ she chipped in eagerly, adding mischievously, ‘I won’t lock the bedroom door this time.’
‘I’ve taken the lock off,’ Bob replied.
‘Oh, how awful! What is a poor innocent girl to do?’ Jane wailed in mock anguish, latching onto his humour.
‘Accept the situation gracefully, my dear.’
‘How can you even think of such a thing, let alone suggest it?’ replied Jane, continuing in the same light-hearted vein.
The patter might have gone on longer, but Jane suddenly switched to more mundane matters. ‘Bob, it’s lovely talking to you, but I’d better finish, because this little girl has got to get up early in the morning and I want to tackle my hair before I go.’
Bob took the hint. ‘Fine. I’ll expect you in the morning around seven. I’ll do the driving and you can have a snooze.’
Jane laughed. ‘I most likely will, but bye for now. See you in the morning.’
‘Bye. Sleep well.’ And with that Bob was gone.
Jane thought carefully as she put the phone down. If she was going to spend the night away, she had better do some packing. She flew into the bedroom, pulled out her weekend bag and started flinging things onto the bed. If Bob was taking her out for a meal, she would need something different from the blouse and trousers she would be wearing during the day. Dress after dress was taken out of the wardrobe and scrutinised before she finally settled on a blue summer one with dainty shoulder straps. But which shoes should she wear with it? She had a pair of high-heeled white court shoes with a bow on the front, but Bob had said something about walking to the pub… She looked at a pair of white pumps that she thought might come in handy. In the end both pairs went into a weekend suitcase. Her usual bag would be far too small for all the things she ended up wanting to take. The last item that went into the case was the pretty nightdress she had purchased for the previous weekend. With a sigh of relief she closed the lid and carried the case into the hall. A glance at the clock showed her that she had taken far longer than she had intended and that her plans for an early night had gone sadly awry, but she was determined to make an effort and be attractively dressed for the occasion. She would fix her hair in the morning.
Ten minutes later she had retreated to the comfort of her bed. Tomorrow was a new day and hopefully she might at long last solve the mystery of her past.
Chapter 11
The alarm clock jerked Jane out of sleep. She groped instinctively for the switch to silence the noise. Pulling the eiderdown from her face she glanced at the bedside clock. It was just after half past four. She lay there for a minute and then became conscious of another sound. It was the noise of raindrops falling on her bedroom window. Flinging back the eiderdown she tiptoed to the window and drew back the curtains to look out. It was a dismal scene, with rain falling steadily. The thought of driving any distance was not appealing to her; she hated driving in the rain, but it had to be done and Bob would share it with her.
She took her time showering, and washing and styling her hair. When she emerged from the bathroom and put on her watch she was alarmed to see that almost an hour had gone by. She dressed quickly and then there was just time for a quick breakfast of tea and muesli. It was close to six when she collected all her things and finally locked the door behind her. It was still raining as she walked to the car and she was glad she had put on her trusty red plastic raincoat. Thank goodness the petrol tank was already quite full, so she would have no need to stop on the way to Bob’s house. She quickly put her luggage in the boot and slipped into the driving seat, glad to be out of the rain. While the car was warming up and the windows were clearing she had the usual search to retrieve her driving shoes from under the seat where she had flung them. Once she had changed into them, she was on her way.
*
Bob was also up early. He had one or two jobs to do before his guest arrived. His plan to spend some time the previous evening on the task had been thwarted. It had been one of his days in the studio, and he had worked late. On the way home he had stopped at the supermarket to buy some extra food and essentials for Jane’s visit. He had only just arrived home when she phoned. He had been over the moon when she readily accepted his invitation to stay Saturday night at his house. Now he was anxious to have everything looking nice before she arrived.
His original plan to tidy up a bit the evening before had been abandoned in preference to getting up early and whisking through in the morning. Not that there was a lot to do. Mrs McGinty kept his house spick and span and he was generally a tidy person. However, he changed the bed, using the fresh linen Mrs McGinty had washed and placed in the airing cupboard, and tidied up the bedroom in general. The lounge rarely got in a mess, because he didn’t spend a lot of time in there. It was the kitchen that required the most attention. A few dishes to wash up, and the worktops to tidy. He even cleared the kitchen table. He was just finishing a quick breakfast when Jane arrived. He opened the front door to see her sitting with the car door open, changing her driving shoes for her white casuals.
She looked up as he appeared. ‘Hi!’ she called out as she got out of the car.
Bob grabbed the golf umbrella he kept in the hall and sheltered beneath it as he went to meet her.
Jane turned to greet him and offered her lips for a kiss. Bob’s free hand encircled her and held her as he kissed her.
‘Good morning,’ he said. ‘Mmm… You smell nice today.’ Her perfume was faint but tantalising.
Jane looked at him with a smile. ‘Do you like it? It’s new. I thought I’d try it out.’
Bob grinned at her. He always liked her perfume. ‘It’s great. I like it. But you always smell delicious.’
Jane pretended to be serious. ‘Well, a female has to try and lure a male into her net somehow.’
Bob was about to reply and perhaps continue their titillating humour, but Jane disentangled herself. She looked up at the sky and made a face. ‘I didn’t expect it to rain,’ she said solemnly as she slammed the car door.
‘It’s going to be fine by midday,’ replied Bob, holding the umbrella over her.
‘Thank goodness,’ she remarked. Then she exclaimed excitedly, ‘I’ve got so much to tell you! Oh, and I’ve got a bag of goodies in the boot for us.’ She was already moving towards the back of the car, ignoring the rain and the umbrella.
For the next minute or so she was busy removing her bits and pieces from the boot including a plastic bag that bore the name of the supermarket. With a bag in one hand and the umbrella in the other, Bob led the way into the house. As they walked, Jane turned and clicked the remote locking device for the car. Once inside the house, she dumped her bag on the floor and flung her arms around Bob.
‘Now I can kiss you without embarrassing your neighbours!’ she exclaimed.
Bob lingered over kissing her. He ran his hand over her hair, which fell softly to her shoulders instead of the pinned-up practical style she wore for work.
‘Hey. I spent ages doing my hair this morning,’ Jane said reproachfully.
Bob laughed. ‘All the more reason for me to handle it,’ he replied, nevertheless taking the hint and directing the offending hand to her back. ‘Come into the kitchen and I’ll make you a coffee,’ he invited, suddenly releasing her and making a move in the direction of the kitchen.
‘Oh, that would be great. Just what I
could do with.’ Jane followed him into the kitchen and sat down at the table.
‘What time did you get up?’ Bob asked, busy filling the kettle.
Jane made a face. ‘The middle of the night,’ she replied, adding by way of explanation, ‘Half past four.’
‘Gosh, you must be tired out.’
Jane laughed. ‘I’ll survive.’ Then a thought struck her. ‘But I must tell you what’s happened,’ she insisted.
Over coffee she updated Bob on everything that had happened during the week, keeping the best bit until the end: the new information Gerald had discovered.
Bob listened intently. When she had finished, he thought for a second and then commented thoughtfully, ‘So you could have some aunts somewhere around.’
‘Absolutely. That’s what I was thinking,’ replied Jane. Then, almost thinking aloud, she added, ‘That is if I am Jane Carroll.’
‘Yes, but even if you aren’t, James Carroll’s two sisters, if they are still alive, should have some information about why you have been living under that name,’ Bob pointed out.
‘But how would we find them?’ asked Jane.
‘Well, let’s start with the orphanage, today. They must know something there.’ Bob’s approach to the problem was quite upbeat.
Jane gave a little sigh. ‘I suppose you’re right,’ she observed, but there was an air of sadness about her reply.
Bob studied her for a second. He could see that she was going over in her mind the events of the previous week, and on top of that he knew that the thought of visiting the institution where she had spent her early years was depressing for her, despite her cheerful countenance.
‘Don’t worry. We’ll get everything sorted out,’ he assured her.
Jane smiled at him. ‘I do hope so. Thank you for your reassurance. I know I’m jolly lucky to have both you and Gerald taking such an interest in my hidden past.’
‘That guy Gerald is a useful chap to have around,’ commented Bob.
Jane nodded. ‘I know. He’s an absolutely authority on family history. Anna says he’s been at it for years and years.’
‘Good for him and us,’ remarked Bob with a grin.
Their conversation continued for another ten minutes or so as they finished their coffee, Jane chatting and Bob responding and adding a comment here and there. It was Bob stealing a quick look at the clock on the wall that prompted Jane to look at her watch.
‘Hey, we’d better get going, or we’ll be late!’ she exclaimed.
Bob was already on his feet.
*
‘This is it. We’re almost there.’ Those were Jane’s words as she read the sign advising motorists to drive slowly through the village of Goodmanton.
Bob, who was enjoying driving the BMW, gave her a quick glance. ‘Whereabouts is the orphanage?’ he enquired.
‘It’s not far now,’ Jane responded quickly. Then, as another familiar landmark appeared, she exclaimed almost excitedly, ‘That’s the bus stop where we older girls used to catch the bus to school! The orphanage is coming up now. Just here on the left.’
Bob slowed the car as they approached the entrance. He turned off the road and steered the car through iron gates hung on tall stone pillars. The wheels clattered over a cattle grid. Ahead the driveway disappeared around a bend to the right. A large notice board announced that this was Goodmanton Children’s Home, administered by the County Council. The drive was short, and almost immediately a large, stone building came into sight.
‘This is it,’ was Jane’s unenthusiastic comment.
Bob stole a quick glance at her. He knew the visit wasn’t going to be a pleasant experience for her. He was about to reply with a few words of comfort, but she spoke again first.
‘They’ve made a car park. That’s new since I was here.’ She waved a hand in the direction of a sign indicating All Parking.
Bob turned into the parking area and parked the BMW neatly between two other cars. There were already six or seven vehicles there. Together they walked back towards the main building.
Jane was unusually silent. A kind of sadness had enveloped her as memories of the time she had spent in this establishment came back to her.
Bob took her hand and gave it a squeeze. ‘It’ll be all right,’ he whispered.
‘I know. It’s just memories,’ Jane replied in a quiet voice.
‘Thank goodness the weather has improved,’ commented Bob. The rain had stopped halfway through their journey and now the sky was lightening, with a hint of blue to come.
‘I’m glad you did the driving,’ said Jane. She gave a little smile. ‘I hate driving in the rain.’
A few minutes’ walk brought them to the main building. Once an extremely large house with many windows, it now had a kind of businesslike atmosphere about it.
‘That was my dormitory,’ Jane commented, pointing to a window on the second floor.
Bob looked up at the window and then turned his attention to the inscription carved in stone above the front door of the building. Founded 1850 by Sir Edward Ashington as a charitable institution, for orphans of the district.
‘Who was Sir Edward Ashington?’ he asked quietly.
‘I think he was a wealthy local man,’ replied Jane, and then in almost the same breath she remarked, ‘I think we have to go round the side.’ She pointed to the notice on the wall beside the front door with its clear message. All enquiries to the office. A large arrow accompanying the notice made its meaning quite clear.
‘The office used to be inside the house when I was here,’ she remarked.
They walked in the direction indicated by the arrow, turning the corner of the house, and immediately came to a new brick building tacked onto the side. In front of them was a door marked Reception and Office.
‘This is all new since my time,’ observed Jane, looking around. She tapped on the door.
From inside, a voice bade them enter. Jane pushed open the door and they both went in.
They found themselves in a bright, roomy office. The sole occupant was a middle-aged woman with glasses, seated at a desk.
‘Yes, can I help you?’ she asked in a slightly irritated voice.
’I’m Jane Carroll,’ replied Jane nervously, ‘and this is Bob Harker, a friend of mine. I have an appointment with the manager at 10 o’clock.’
‘Oh, yes,’ replied the woman. ‘I’m Laura Brompton, the manager of the home.’ She indicated two chairs facing the desk. ‘Please take a seat.’
Jane and Bob sat down. The manager looked at Jane. ‘What can I do for you?’ she asked, her tone hardly inviting.
Jane opened her file and started to relate her story. ‘I was placed in this orphanage at a very early age. I’m not sure who my parents were. I’d like to know what information you have on me.’
There was almost a sigh from Laura Brompton. ‘I’m not sure that we can give you any information on that.’
She began to say something else, but Jane butted in. ‘But I can prove who I am,’ she protested. ‘I have my personal papers here.’ She started to open her shoulder bag.
There was a definite pursing of the manager’s lips. After a slight pause she said, ‘Let me explain the situation to you. We are now run by the county council. I have no early records. All I have are the computer records that were compiled when the home was taken over five years ago.’
This was a blow to Jane, but she was determined to persevere with her quest. ‘Can you tell me who arranged for me to come here?’ she queried.
The manager shook her head. ‘I don’t have that information,’ she replied curtly.
‘What do you have on me?’ Jane persisted.
The manager opened a drawer and pulled out a sheet of paper. She looked at it for a second. There was an audible sigh before she replied. ‘The computer records show that you were admitted in 1981 and were discharged in 1991 to live with…’ She paused a moment to refer to the paper she held, then continued. ‘Derek and Mabel Watkins,’ she conclude
d.
‘Yes, that’s correct,’ said Jane somewhat glumly. She had not anticipated this lack of available information.
‘What happened to the original records?’ It was Bob who asked the question. So far he had merely sat and observed the proceedings.
Laura Brompton turned to him sharply with a cold stare. Bob’s input, and his question, were clearly not welcome.
‘Some were destroyed in an office fire some years ago and the rest were lost when the home was taken over by the county council,’ she replied abruptly, as if the question irritated her.
There was a few seconds’ break in the conversation. Jane was desperately trying to think of more questions to ask.
It was a futile exercise, because suddenly Laura Brompton looked at her watch and then at Jane. ‘Is there anything else you want to ask me?’ she enquired with obvious lack of enthusiasm.
‘No… I think that’s all,’ Jane replied, rising from her seat. It was clear that the interview was over.
‘Thank you for seeing us,’ said Bob as he stood up.
Farewells were brief as Laura Brompton watched them leave her office. It was abundantly clear that Jane and Bob’s visit had been an irritation and an inconvenience to her.
Once outside, Bob let off steam. ‘Phew! Talk about being given the cold shoulder,’ he remarked.
Jane did not reply. The meeting had been too negative and destructive for her to cope with.
When she eventually turned to Bob, her face was a picture of misery, and tears were close to the surface. ‘First last week, and now this. I feel completely gutted. I don’t think I can cope with any more.’ Her voice was full of emotion.
Bob put his arm round her and pulled her towards him. ‘It’ll be all right. You’ll see. Don’t let this meeting get you down,’ he said gently, as he started to lead her in the direction of the car park.
‘I’m usually quite strong about things, but the last two weeks have really got to me.’ Jane stopped and turned to face Bob. She spoke slowly, as if she was thinking about each word. ‘It’s just this feeling of not knowing who I am. I’m officially a dead person. I don’t exist.’ She looked appealingly at Bob.
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