The Golden Anklet

by Beverly Hansford

  ‘We have to,’ he replied with conviction. ‘If we keep pegging away we’re bound to come up with the truth at some point.’

  ‘I do hope so,’ Jane replied, with a little sigh.

  ‘You don’t know what sort of information you may be able to obtain from Mrs Marshall’s sister on Tuesday,’ Bob pointed out.

  ‘No, I suppose not.’ Jane gave another sigh, almost to herself, and then suddenly looked at her watch. ‘Hey, look at the time!’ she exclaimed. ‘Time we had some lunch.’

  Bob wanted to take her out to a pub for a meal, but she shook her head.

  ‘I’ve got some salad for us,’ she explained. ‘Too many meals out will make me fat,’ she added, making a face at Bob as she got up to go into the kitchen. ‘You like me nice and slim, don’t you?’ she called over her shoulder, smiling.

  ‘Sure do. Keep it that way,’ Bob called after her, laughing, as he stood up from the settee to help her.

  They prepared the meal together, Bob busy at the sink washing a lettuce, and Jane slicing up tomatoes and dealing with the ham she had bought.

  While they were relaxing in the lounge with a mug of coffee after their meal, Bob outlined his plans for starting up a new business with Jeff. ‘We’ve taken the photographs for several advertising projects, such as the one for the hotel we stayed at last night. Jeff and I believe there is very good potential to develop this kind of work. We think we can offer a package for the whole job and produce the entire brochure.’

  He looked at Jane for her thoughts on the subject.

  ‘That’s a fantastic idea!’ she exclaimed. ‘But won’t it be expensive to set up a business like that?’

  Bob shook his head. ‘Comparatively low, in fact, as we already have the premises. We can set up an office on the floor above.’ He was eager to explain a bit more. ‘We feel that we do a greater part of the job already. The rest is really just words, tweaking the design and sourcing a good firm of printers to work with.’ He added with a grin, ‘We have a company in mind.’

  ‘That sounds brilliant,’ Jane replied enthusiastically. ‘Perhaps I could even help out,’ she enquired tentatively, with a smile.

  Bob chuckled. ‘I’m sure we could use your talent at times. That is…’ He hesitated, smiling again. ‘If you aren’t too expensive.’

  Jane gave one of her little laughs. ‘Oh, I’m horrendously expensive. And there would have to be strings attached,’ she joked with a wicked little grin.

  ‘I would have to consider any offer you made very carefully and in great detail,’ Bob replied, joining in the humour.

  They talked for quite a long time. Gradually their conversation became more infrequent and after a while they both dozed off, Jane’s head resting on Bob’s shoulder. It was the sound of the telephone ringing that shocked Jane awake. Half asleep, she stumbled into the hall. She grabbed the telephone as she stifled a yawn.

  ‘Hello.’

  A familiar voice answered. ‘Ah, Jane. You are in. Gerald here.’

  ‘Hello, Gerald.’

  ‘I hope I’m not disturbing you.’

  Jane smiled to herself. Gerald was always so polite. ‘No, not at all. It’s always nice to hear from you and Anna.’

  ‘Anna’s gone shopping, but I was wondering…’ There was a slight hesitation before Gerald. ‘I was wondering if I might see you for a few minutes.’

  ‘Of course you can. Now, if you like. Shall we come down to you? Bob is here with me.’

  ‘I’ll come to see you in a few minutes, if I may.’

  ‘That’s fine. See you soon.’

  ‘OK. Goodbye for now.’

  Jane replaced the handset. She guessed that Gerald did not want to invite anybody in while Anna was out. She hurried back to the lounge. Bob was still sitting on the settee. He turned to look at her enquiringly.

  ‘That was Gerald. He wants to come up.’

  ‘Perhaps he’s found out something more about your past,’ suggested Bob cheerfully.

  ‘Oh, I do hope so.’

  It was at this point that Jane remembered her tousled appearance and Gerald’s old-fashioned view of women. She dashed to the bedroom to freshen up. The front door bell rang while she was still absent. It was Bob who answered Gerald’s ring.

  ‘Hello, Gerald. Come in.’

  He stepped aside to allow Gerald to pass.

  ‘Hello, Bob. I don’t want to intrude on your afternoon…’ began Gerald, looking a little anxious.

  ‘No, it’s fine. Come into the lounge, Gerald.’ Jane had just reappeared from the bedroom.

  ‘No, no. I won’t stay. But I just thought you should know about a new development in your family history.’

  Jane was of course immediately eager to know what Gerald had found out. ‘Oh, please tell me. What is it?’ she asked.

  Gerald fumbled to extract a piece of paper from his pocket. He looked at it and then cleared his throat. Jane and Bob waited.

  Gerald started to speak. ‘I just had to let you know about this.’ He looked at the piece of paper again. ‘I heard from Eric this morning. He’s been doing some more research into the Ashington family.’

  He stopped and looked first at Jane and then at Bob before continuing. ‘I knew Eric would. He doesn’t like unanswered questions.’

  ‘But what’s he found out?’ Jane was becoming anxious.

  Gerald looked at them both again, almost as if to ensure that he had their full attention, and then he announced, ‘Ann Ashington was married twice.’

  ‘What!’ Jane was quite taken aback.

  ‘Do you have the details?’ asked Bob.

  Gerald nodded. ‘Yes. Ann Ashington was briefly married to a John Henderson. Ann’s daughter Ruth was born after they divorced.’

  Gerald looked at his audience for a reaction.

  Jane collapsed onto a nearby chair. She struggled to fully comprehend this new information.

  ‘But… but…’ she stammered, fighting to get the words out, ‘that means I could be that child – Ann Ashington’s daughter.’

  She looked up at Gerald, seeking confirmation.

  ‘It’s quite possible,’ he replied calmly.

  ‘Is Eric sure about this new information?’ asked Bob.

  Gerald nodded. ‘Absolutely. Knowing Eric, I’m confident he wouldn’t make any statement unless he was one hundred per cent sure of his facts. I’ll guarantee he will supply us with documents to prove what he has found out.’

  Jane was still sitting on the chair. She was now trying to work out how everything fitted together. Her face had a puzzled expression. ‘But if I had a mother and apparently was part of a wealthy family, why was I put into an orphanage and why was my name changed on documents?’ She looked at Gerald, hopeful of some sort of explanation.

  ‘That’s what is intriguing Eric,’ he replied. ‘At this stage it doesn’t all make sense. But I’m confident he will come up with some answers.’

  ‘But it feels as if everybody else is doing my family history for me, and I feel quite embarrassed by that.’ Jane was looking quite worried.

  ‘Don’t worry about that,’ Gerald replied with a little laugh. ‘When it comes to family history, both Eric and I are fanatics and we both like a mystery to unravel.’

  Jane was about to comment, but Gerald spoke again. ‘It will be interesting to see whether you can glean any new information on the subject of the name change at the orphanage when you meet Mrs Marshall’s sister.’

  Jane suddenly remembered that she had not been able to update Gerald on her efforts in this direction. She felt even more embarrassed by her delay. ‘Oh, Gerald, I’m dreadfully sorry, but I’ve not given you the latest on this. Being busy with other things most of yesterday drove it right out of my head.’

  Gerald smiled at her sympathetically.

  ‘We had a night out last night, and didn’t get back until this morning,’ explained Bob.

  Jane hastened to fill Gerald in on her progress. ‘I managed to speak to Mrs Marshall’s sis
ter on the phone yesterday. I’ve got an appointment to see her on Tuesday.’

  ‘Excellent. Let’s hope that she can throw more light on things,’ replied Gerald.

  ‘Sisters often confide little secrets to each other,’ remarked Bob thoughtfully.

  Gerald nodded enthusiastically. ‘That’s absolutely correct.’ He turned to Jane. ‘You know, Jane, in family history research, the biggest clues can come from the most unexpected sources. Don’t dismiss any opportunity.’

  Jane smiled at him. ‘Thank you for all your encouragement and your involvement in my quest. I do really appreciate it. And thank Eric for me as well.’

  ‘I will.’ Gerald glanced at his watch. ‘Oh dear. I must go now. Anna will have returned from the shops.’

  There was a bit of a flurry as he departed hurriedly in the midst of expressions of thanks from Jane and Bob. ‘Our greetings to Anna,’ Jane called after him. As soon as he had disappeared from view, she and Bob returned to the lounge.

  Jane sat down on the settee again. In spite of her enthusiastic response to Gerald, now that she was alone with Bob a state of gloom swept over her. She put her head in her hands.

  Bob sat down beside her. He took hold of one of her hands.

  ‘Cheer up,’ he said, rubbing her back.

  Jane looked at him, anxiety written on her face. When she spoke it was slowly, searching for the words as she went. ‘It’s this feeling of not knowing. Now it looks as if I could be one of three people – Jane Carroll, Ruth Ashington, or now, it seems, even a Ruth Henderson.’ She took a pause, still deep in thought. Then she continued. ‘It’s all the questions that keep coming up. Why was I in an orphanage? Why was there a name change?’

  ‘There’s got to be an answer somewhere. It’s just finding it. If we keep chipping away at it, we must find something at some point,’ replied Bob.

  ‘That’s fine, but in the meantime I feel as if I’m a fraud. I don’t know my real name.’

  Jane looked miserable and Bob could sense that tears were close to the surface. He did his best to be logical. ‘This guy Eric seems to know what he’s doing. I was very impressed with what he’s come up with regarding Ann Ashington.’

  ‘That’s another thing. He and Gerald seem to be doing all my family history research while I sit about and do nothing,’ replied Jane glumly.

  ‘Except sit and moan,’ Bob suggested, starting to laugh.

  It was the tipping point. Jane suddenly snapped out of her gloom. Her face broke into a smile. ‘You’re right. I’m a misery, aren’t I? I’m getting all this free help from good old Gerald and his friend, and all I do is grizzle.’

  Bob was about to butt in, but Jane suddenly thought of something else. She looked at him with a serious expression on her face. ‘You know, I’m actually looking forward to meeting Mrs Marshall’s sister on Tuesday. I’ve just got this feeling that she may have some information.’

  ‘Good for you. That’s the spirit,’ said Bob with a laugh. He became more serious again as he followed up with a question. ‘What makes you think so?’ he asked.

  Jane thought for an instant and then with a little smile replied, ‘Oh, just a woman’s intuition.’

  Chapter 24

  Jane found the journey to Elizabeth Barton’s house more difficult by public transport than she had anticipated. By the time she had left the bus in the High Street and navigated her way through several roads with the aid of her A–Z map, it was already a minute or two past two when she reached the house. This time she marched up the path and sounded the knocker on the door. She heard somebody moving somewhere in the distance. She waited for what seemed quite a few minutes before the door was opened.

  A grey-haired elderly woman stood in front of her.

  ‘Mrs Barton?’ asked Jane holding out her hand. ‘I’m Jane Carroll.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right.’ Elizabeth Barton’s voice sounded much more powerful to Jane than it had over the phone.

  ‘I’m very pleased to meet you, Mrs Barton.’

  The handshake that greeted Jane was limp, but her host was smiling. ‘Do come in, dear,’ she said, standing aside to let Jane enter the narrow hallway.

  Jane followed her into the sitting room. She was surprised to see how agile she appeared to be – quite the opposite of what her telephone voice had conveyed.

  As they entered the room, Jane was surprised to see another woman of a similar age to Mrs Barton sitting in one of the chairs. ‘This is my neighbour, Mrs Beth Browne. I invited her to keep me company,’ explained Mrs Barton. ‘And this is Jane Carroll,’ she added, addressing her neighbour.

  Jane could see that the neighbour’s presence made sense. It offered just that little bit of security for an older person living alone.

  Jane received a fragile handshake from Mrs Browne, and a brief ‘Hello’ in reply to her greeting of ‘Good afternoon.’

  ‘Do sit down, dear,’ said Mrs Barton. Jane selected a chair and immediately her host grabbed up some clothing that was lying on the seat. ‘I’m so sorry this room is in such a mess, but I’ve only just returned from visiting my sister in Australia,’ she explained.

  ‘Did you have a nice time?’ asked Jane politely, as she sat down.

  ‘Yes, thank you, dear. But such a journey. I had no idea it was such a long flight.’ Mrs Barton was beginning to look stressed.

  Jane took the opportunity to change the subject by opening her bag and taking out the latest issue of Discerning Woman. She had popped it into her bag as a little act of courtesy and also because she thought it might help to reassure Mrs Barton that she was who she said she was. She handed it to her host. ‘I brought this for you. It’s only just gone on sale.’

  The magazine was accepted with a cautious smile. ‘That’s very nice of you, dear. Thank you,’ said Mrs Barton. ‘Now,’ she asked, ‘can I get you a drink of tea?’

  Jane smiled politely. ‘That would be lovely,’ she replied.

  Mrs Barton hurried away and almost immediately her neighbour followed her, muttering something about giving her a hand.

  Their absence gave Jane an opportunity to glance round the room. It was small, as the house itself appeared to be, and had a very old-fashioned air to it. The furniture and carpet were long past their prime. A cabinet full of china ornaments stood against one wall and there were large flowerpots dotted around filled with leafy plants. The mantelpiece above the old-fashioned fireplace with its wood and tile surround was crammed with more china ornaments and photographs. Prints of Victorian paintings decorated the free wall space. It was a rather depressing room with a musty smell and the feel of not being used a lot.

  After only a short time the two women returned, Mrs Barton bearing a tray with cups and saucers and a teapot with a tea cosy, and Mrs Browne carrying a tray with cake and plates. Once the refreshments had been placed on a side table, Mrs Barton turned her attention to Jane and asked her whether she took milk and sugar. Jane accepted the delicate china cup and saucer and selected the smallest piece of cake from the plate offered. When everybody had been served, her host sat down opposite her.

  ‘You said that you would like to see me about something, dear,’ was her opening remark.

  ‘Yes, that’s correct. I was wondering if you could help me solve a question about my past,’ explained Jane.

  ‘Well I don’t know if I can, dear, but I’ll do my best,’ replied Mrs Barton with a smile.

  Under the watchful eyes of the two women, Jane put down her tea, opened up her briefcase and took out a copy of her birth certificate. She began to explain her mission. ‘Well, you see, Mrs Barton—’

  ‘Oh, do call me Elizabeth, dear.’

  Jane gave a smile of acknowledgement. ‘Thank you, Elizabeth…’ She hesitated for a second, picking up the strands of what she wanted to say. She continued quickly. ‘Most of my early life I spent in the orphanage where your sister was matron. When I left there I was given this birth certificate, which says my name is Jane Carroll.’

  She
handed the certificate to Elizabeth and waited a few minutes while she put spectacles on and looked at the document. When Elizabeth eventually looked up, Jane continued, ‘I started looking into my past recently and I discovered that the Jane Carroll named on the certificate had died as a baby.’

  She took a few seconds to let Elizabeth absorb what she had just related. As there was no response from her, Jane carried on. ‘I went back to the orphanage and discovered that I had been admitted there under the name of Ruth Ashington. I had been hoping that your sister could tell me what happened.’

  Once Jane had finished speaking she again looked at Elizabeth for a reaction. It was not long in coming. Elizabeth handed the certificate back to her. ‘The details you have are correct. I’m afraid Jane Carroll, my niece, did die as a baby. James Carroll was my brother.’ She waited a few seconds and then added. ‘I’m very sorry, dear.’ There was clearly a tenseness about her now.

  Jane’s brain plunged into overdrive. Here she was, just receiving information she already had. If she was to find out any more about her past, she knew she had to proceed slowly with Elizabeth. After taking a sip of her tea, her next remark sounded almost casual and inconsequential.

  ‘Obviously a mistake has been made somewhere, but what is puzzling is how the name Ruth Ashington is involved.’

  As if to emphasise the unimportance of the comment, she turned her attention to her piece of cake.

  Her downbeat approach seemed to work. After listening intently, Elizabeth appeared to relax a bit. She gave Jane a little smile. ‘Well, Jane… Can I call you Jane?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Jane responded quickly.

  ‘Jane, I have no idea how you became to be called Carroll. Perhaps a mistake was made.’ There was a slight pause. Elizabeth was clearly pondering what to say as she took a sip of her tea. She replaced the cup on its saucer. ‘But I can tell you a little bit about Ruth Ashington.’

  ‘Please do.’ Jane tried not to sound too eager.

  Elizabeth smiled again. ‘You see, I looked after Ruth Ashington from the time she was very young until she went into the orphanage.’