The Golden Anklet

by Beverly Hansford

  ‘I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware of that. I—’

  ‘That’s all right,’ the woman had cut in. ‘Goodbye.’

  With that, the call had ended before Jane could say anything more.

  She had been a bit put out by the response she had received and on top of that she had not achieved her objective to contact Lucy. This had all added to the difficult day she had been experiencing.

  *

  The sound of a church clock striking somewhere jerked Jane’s thoughts to the present. A glance at the clock, and she realised it was time to get up. Yesterday, she had managed to get a last-minute appointment at the hairdresser’s, and it was for half past eight. She also had some shopping to do.

  Twenty minutes later she had showered and had put on a pair of comfortable trousers and a casual blouse and was in the kitchen having a bowl of muesli and another mug of tea. She turned on the radio for a bit of company, but the programme was uninteresting and she quickly turned it off again. It was past eight when she looked out of the window again to check on the weather. It was raining steadily. This brought forth an ‘Oh, no’ from her lips. The thought of walking to the shops in the rain was not appealing. She would have to take the car. She knew somewhere to park close to the hairdressing salon.

  By the time Jane had finished at the hairdresser’s and made a visit to the supermarket, the morning was well advanced. Fortunately, the rain had stopped for a while and she was able to carry her bags of shopping to and from the car in the dry, without having to struggle with an umbrella to protect her hair.

  Once back in her apartment, after a much desired coffee she threw herself into washing and cleaning. It was while she was vacuuming the lounge that she heard the sound of the telephone. It must be Bob, she thought. Switching off the vacuum cleaner, she dashed to the hall and picked up the receiver.

  ‘Hello,’ she said.

  A woman’s voice answered. ‘Jane, it’s Lucy.’

  Jane was ecstatic. ‘Lucy, how marvellous! How are you?’

  A somewhat subdued Lucy answered. ‘Oh, I’m fine. It’s just that… Well, you must think me awful for not contacting you before this.’

  Jane could sense that Lucy was a bit embarrassed. She tried to hide her own stress of the past week. ‘Not at all. You must have lots of other things to do besides dabbling in things for me.’

  Her strategy appeared to work. The voice at the other end of the line sounded more like the old Lucy she had known. ‘I felt terrible about not getting back to you sooner, but it’s been a most awful week.’

  Jane could immediately empathise; she gave a little chuckle as she responded to Lucy’s comment. ‘I know the feeling. My week has been pretty hard going, too. Tell me about yours.’

  Lucy was quick to take up her offer. ‘Well, first of all, we’ve had the auditors in at work and I don’t know whether I’ve been coming or going. Then Laura Brompton has been in a foul mood all week because of the auditors being around.’ Lucy paused for an instant and then continued. ‘On top of that, Patty looked as if she was coming down with something or other, and then to crown it all somebody ran into the back of my car.’

  Jane could see why Lucy hadn’t contacted her. ‘Phew,’ she replied. ‘That’s a lot at one time.’ Then she asked, ‘But how is Patty now?’

  ‘She seems to have got over whatever it was, thank goodness,’ replied Lucy.

  ‘And your car?’

  ‘A write-off. I’ll have to get something else. I’m driving my mother-in-law’s car at present.’

  ‘Gosh. You’ve had quite a week.’ Jane had almost forgotten about her own problems.

  It was Lucy who changed the subject and brought the conversation round to Jane. ‘Now for you and your dark past.’ There was a bit of a laugh at the other end of the telephone. She was already sounding more cheerful.

  ‘Oh, don’t worry about me. You’ve got enough on your plate without my problems.’ Jane felt she had to say it, though she was disappointed. But Lucy’s next sentence changed things.

  ‘Oh, but I have found out something.’ Lucy sounded quite excited.

  ‘Tell me,’ Jane urged her. She couldn’t wait to hear what Lucy had to say.

  ‘Well, Laura was correct. There is no trace of you on the computer system.’

  Lucy’s confirmation brought Jane a stab of despondency. Once again it looked as if she had struck a dead end. Lucy’s words brought forth a spontaneous reaction from her.

  ‘But why on earth should that be? I spent years in that place.’

  Lucy took Jane’s reaction in her stride. She was quite philosophical about it. ‘I don’t know, really. Somebody could have made an error when entering the original details on the computer and left you off, or, you know computers: one slip of the finger, and you can delete something. On top of that there was a fire in the office and a lot of documents were burnt.’

  Jane was forced to agree, but she felt the news still left her high and dry. Her response to Lucy’s comment reflected her gloom. ‘I know. It’s just that I feel so despondent at the moment with all this. I don’t know who I really am and I’m apparently using the name of a dead person.’

  ‘It must be awful for you. But I know you were at the orphanage – and I think I may have discovered something else.’

  The last bit of Lucy’s statement hit Jane with full force. ‘Tell me,’ she prompted; there was urgency in her voice. She listened intently as Lucy continued.

  ‘Well, I’ve been breaking every rule in the book; I knew there were some old hand-written documents somewhere in the storeroom. I managed to find them, but I was so busy with the auditors around that I couldn’t get a chance to look at them properly, so in the end I took them home with me.’

  ‘Gosh. That was a bit of a risk.’

  Lucy seemed unconcerned. ‘Not really. I don’t think anybody except me knows they’re there. They were supposed to have been destroyed after we had the fire in the office.’

  Jane was still anxious to know the extent of Lucy’s finds. ‘But what else did you find about me?’ she asked.

  ‘Well, I managed to find the old hand-written admissions book. It was in a pretty bad state – it was partly burnt and had got wet – but I did manage to find the year you were admitted.’

  ‘So what did it say?’ asked Jane anxiously, grabbing the notepad and pen that she kept next to the phone.

  ‘There were six children admitted to the orphanage that year…’ Lucy stopped for a second as if she were reading, and then she continued. ‘Now, this is the odd bit. That particular page of the book has a second page stuck down over the original. It had got wet and I managed to prise it off the original one. And here is the interesting bit: all the names matched on the two pages except yours.’

  ‘What was the difference?’ Jane could hardly contain herself.

  There was a slight pause, as Lucy was obviously checking something, and then she continued. ‘On the page that’s been stuck down over the original it’s got your name, but on the original it’s Ruth Ashington.’

  ‘But why has the name been changed, and when was it changed?’ Jane was almost thinking aloud as she spoke. Suddenly she thought of something else. ‘But why Ashington – and where have I heard that name before?’

  ‘It must have been changed a long time ago,’ answered Lucy. Then she added excitedly, ‘But don’t you remember? It was the Ashington family who founded the orphanage.’

  Lucy’s remark stirred Jane’s memory. ‘Of course! The name over the front door. Sir Edward Ashington.’

  ‘Do you think my efforts will be of any help?’ asked Lucy.

  ‘I don’t know,’ replied Jane. ‘I hope so, but at the moment it’s all a mystery.’ She thought for a moment, and then added, ‘I don’t know how I can thank you for all your efforts – particularly with the kind of week you’ve had. I really appreciate what you’ve done.’

  ‘Forget it. I enjoyed doing it for old times’ sake, and if I can do anything else, just ring me,’
retorted Lucy.

  That reminded Jane of something. ‘Give me your mobile number,’ she suggested. ‘I forgot to ask you for it.’

  ‘No problem; it’s…’

  Jane made a careful note of the number. ‘Got it. Thank you so much for that.’ She felt quite pleased that she now had both numbers.

  It was Lucy who ended the call. ‘I’ll have to go now, Jane. We’re all going shopping and the others are all ready and waiting for me.’

  ‘Oh! You must go. Thank you again for all your help. I’ll let you know how I get on from here.’

  ‘Please do. And why don’t you and Bob pay us a visit sometime?’

  ‘That would be lovely. I’ll say goodbye for now, but perhaps we could do that at some point.’

  ‘Great. Look forward to it. Bye. Coming!’ Lucy ended with a shout to somebody in the background.

  ‘Bye,’ said Jane; but Lucy had gone.

  For a few seconds Jane stood looking at the details she had taken down on the notepad. Though she was still a bit excited by Lucy’s telephone call, the content had left her puzzled. Why had the names been changed in the book? Could she really be Ruth Ashington? It seemed as if every twist and turn of trying to establish who she actually was left her even more in the dark, with more unanswered questions.

  Chapter 17

  For a good five minutes Jane pondered over her conversation with Lucy. Still clutching the notes she had taken, she wandered into the lounge and sat down, her cleaning abandoned for the moment. None of it seemed to make any sense to her. Her past was still as big a mystery as before.

  The sound of her mobile alerted her from her musing. It could only be one person. She dashed into the kitchen where she had left it, and picked it up.

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘Hello, Jane. It’s Bob.’

  ‘Bob, darling, it’s great to hear from you. How are things going?’ Jane was a bit ecstatic now.

  ‘Not bad at all. But we’ve a lot more to do. How are you getting on?’

  Jane had cheered up a bit now that she was talking to Bob. ‘Missing you terribly. I’m in the midst of cleaning at present, but…’ She hesitated to give more emphasis to what she had heard that day. ‘I’ve got some news for you. I’ve been talking to Lucy.’

  ‘Great! I wanted to ask you about that, but I’ve also got some news for you.’

  ‘That sounds exciting. Who’s going first?’ Jane was now intrigued as well.

  ‘You are.’ There was a chuckle at the other end.

  Jane accepted the prompting. ‘Well, Lucy told me…’ Slowly and methodically she relayed the contents of Lucy’s telephone call. Bob listened intently. When she had finished, Jane asked the question that was nagging at her. ‘What do you make of all that?’

  ‘Absolutely weird.’

  ‘It looks as if somebody wanted to hide the first name,’ she observed.

  ‘But what on earth for? Why put it down to start with?’ Bob appeared as perplexed as Jane.

  ‘That’s what I’d like to know. Do you think I might actually be Ruth Ashington?’

  ‘That’s certainly possible,’ agreed Bob.

  ‘So I’m still in limbo about who I really am,’ she sighed.

  ‘There must be an explanation somewhere,’ Bob reassured her.

  ‘I know – but where? It’s got to the point now that whenever I see my name somewhere, I suddenly wonder whether it’s my real name or not.’ Jane was letting her worries creep to the surface again.

  ‘We’ve just got to keep at it. Somebody somewhere knows why and how that name was deliberately changed.’ Bob did his best to sound positive. Before Jane could answer, he suddenly spoke again. ‘The matron at the orphanage when you were there – Mrs…?’ He searched for the name.

  ‘Mrs Marshall,’ Jane chipped in.

  ‘Yes. Mrs Marshall. I wonder if it would be possible to contact her.’

  ‘Gosh,’ said Jane. ‘That’s an idea. She should know something. She would have been there when it all happened.’

  ‘See if you can get hold of her,’ urged Bob.

  When Jane replied, she was almost thinking aloud. ‘I wonder if Lucy knows where Mrs Marshall lives.’

  ‘Give it a go.’

  ‘I will. I’ll give her a ring. I’m going to see Gerald in a minute. He might have some ideas.’

  ‘Good idea,’ enthused Bob. ‘That man is a mine of information on family history matters.’

  Jane chuckled to herself. ‘He’s been at it for a long time,’ she said.

  Suddenly she changed the subject. ‘Hey, what’s your news? All we’ve talked about is me.’

  There was a slight hesitation at the other end of the phone, and then Bob announced, ‘I’m planning a night out. How do you feel about a dinner dance?’

  ‘Fantastic. I haven’t been dancing for ages. When?’

  ‘A week on Friday. It’s a prestige affair. Evening dress for men and women.’

  Jane was already thinking ahead. ‘I’ll buy a new dress. Something nice.’

  There was a bit of a laugh from Bob before he replied. ‘I’ll have to see if the moths have left anything of my evening togs.’

  ‘You can always hire an evening suit,’ suggested Jane tactfully.

  ‘I know. Might do that.’

  ‘What time does it start?’

  ‘Eight-thirty,’ Bob replied quickly, ‘but it goes on till one in the morning. We’ll have to stay over in town. I’ll book everything. Leave it to me.’

  ‘I’ll most likely take a day or an afternoon off work,’ Jane chipped in.

  ‘Good idea. Now I’d better get some work done.’

  Jane took the hint. ‘Yes, you must. Darling, thank you for the call and the invitation. I’m looking forward to it already. I haven’t been to anything like that for ages and ages.’

  ‘I haven’t, either. Listen, I’ve got to go. Somebody’s after me.’

  ‘OK. Bye for now. Missing you.’

  ‘Me too. Bye.’

  Jane clicked her mobile to end the call. Talking to Bob had lifted her spirits. She was excited about his invitation. She was already planning what sort of outfit she would buy: something completely feminine to please Bob, she had decided, and she knew just the shop to purchase it in. Next week she would take an extended lunch break and go there. She wondered what the event was and what the occasion. No doubt Bob would enlighten her nearer the time.

  The sight of the vacuum cleaner lying on the floor where she had abandoned it brought her down to reality. She just had to finish the dusting and vacuuming, and then she would go and see Gerald.

  It was over an hour later and close to midday by the time she had finished – quite a bit later than she had planned. Slipping her feet into a pair of flip-flops and clutching her keys and the details from Lucy, she made her way downstairs to Gerald and Anna’s apartment. She rang the bell and waited.

  It was Anna who opened the door. ‘Jane, how lovely to see you. Come in.’

  ‘Hello, Anna.’ Jane stepped into the hallway.

  ‘Come and sit down. Would you like a drink?’ Anna enquired cheerfully, making a move towards the lounge.

  Jane hesitated. ‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘but I’d better not. I’m in the middle of cleaning.’

  ‘Oh, what a pity. Never mind. Another time.’ Anna received Jane’s refusal with her usual homeliness. She was still edging towards the lounge.

  ‘Is Gerald in? I’ve got some new information I would like to share with him. I’ve heard from the old friend I met last weekend.’ Jane did not want to linger if Gerald was not around.

  Anna shook her head. ‘He’s out most of the day. He’s meeting an old friend in town. I’m not expecting him back until late afternoon.’ She was looking quite concerned.

  Jane responded quickly. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll pop down later on if I may.’

  ‘Is Bob coming to see you this weekend?’ Anna suddenly asked.

  Jane shook her head. ‘No. He has to work this weekend,’
she replied, wondering vaguely why Anna had asked.

  Anna was immediately full of sympathy. ‘Oh, what a shame! He’s such a nice young man and you seem to get on so well together.’

  ‘He and his partner have some important work to do at the studio,’ explained Jane.

  Anna’s face suddenly lit up. She looked at Jane and beamed. ‘I have an idea. If you’re not doing anything, why don’t you come and have some dinner with us this evening? Then you can tell us all about your friend.’

  The idea quite appealed to Jane. After her previous Saturday nights with Bob, making a meal and being on her own was not inviting. She gave Anna a friendly smile. ‘That would be lovely. About what time?’

  ‘Shall we say six o’clock?’

  ‘Super.’

  Jane took her leave soon after that. While she quite liked Anna and accepted her mothering and fussiness in good part, she was glad she had managed to avoid wasting a chunk of a precious Saturday sitting around drinking coffee. She knew that Gerald and Anna led quite a quiet, secluded life, which perhaps explained Anna’s readiness to socialise at any given moment. Still, she quite liked the idea of meeting them later in the day and talking to Gerald.

  Back in her own apartment, she threw herself into various domestic chores. Several times, remembering Bob’s advice to try and locate Mrs Marshall, she tried unsuccessfully to phone Lucy. In the end she left a message on the answering machine, remembering to add that she would most likely not be available during the evening.

  It was late in the afternoon when she was in the bathroom that she heard the unmistakable sound of her phone. Desperately diving out of the shower and wrapping herself in a towel, she dashed into the hall with wet feet, every second fearful that the phone would stop ringing before she got to it. She grabbed it just in time.

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘Hello, Jane. It’s Lucy.’

  ‘Lucy, great! Thanks for coming back to me. I was in the shower.’ She giggled. ‘I’m dripping everywhere.’

  Lucy joined in Jane’s mirth. ‘It’s what’s called an inappropriate moment,’ she said breezily. Then she went on. ‘Sorry I was out when you rang, but we’ve all been shopping and we got wet. It’s pouring with rain here.’