Richard Gallear - The Forgotten Child

HarperElement

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First published by HarperElement 2019

FIRST EDITION

Text © Richard Gallear 2019

Cover layout design © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2019

Cover photograph © Bert Hardy/Picture Post/Getty Images (front cover archive image is not of author)

A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library

Richard Gallear asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

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Source ISBN: 9780008320768

Ebook Edition © March 2019 ISBN: 9780008320775

Version: 2019-01-31

In memory of Joseph Lester, who saved my life

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

1954: ABANDONED

Chapter 1 – Left to Die

1954–59: THE EARLY YEARS

Chapter 2 – Field House

Chapter 3 – The Monkey Man

Chapter 4 – Chosen

1959–71: THE CRUEL YEARS

Chapter 5 – Goodbye to Happiness

Chapter 6 – The House of Dangers

Chapter 7 – One Day at a Time

Chapter 8 – Poor Joey

Chapter 9 – Christmas Capers

Chapter 10 – The Tricycle

Chapter 11 – Jekyll and Hyde

Chapter 12 – Another Nail in the Coffin

Chapter 13 – Adoption – Hope or Despair?

Chapter 14 – Finny

Chapter 15 – Schooldays and Holidays

Chapter 16 – Leaving School

Chapter 17 – The Next Step

Chapter 18 – The Motorbike

1971–85: THE ESCAPE

Chapter 19 – A Room with a View

Chapter 20 – Crash!

Chapter 21 – A Second Escape

Chapter 22 – Crossroads … and a New Life

1986–2019: THE TRUTH

Chapter 23 – Opening Pandora’s Box

Chapter 24 – Closing the Circle

Acknowledgements

About the Publisher

© Ray Bryant

CHAPTER 1

‘What was that?’ The whispered words faded to echoes in the dark mists of that frozen night, 17 November 1954.

Postman Joseph Lester had just finished his shift at Birmingham’s sorting office and started out on his walk home along Gas Street, through the gap in the wall and down to the canal towpath at Gas Street Basin. It was nine o’clock; the temperature was two degrees below zero. Tired and shivering cold, he was keen to get back to his family in Ledsham Street and relax in front of a roaring fire. This was his usual shortcut home, so he knew his way through the fog that thickened the darkness and stayed well clear of the water’s edge. There was nobody about – just the unseen lapping of water and the muffled, almost inaudible sounds of the city all around … until that faint something, a sort of whimper.

Joseph pointed his torch where he thought it came from, but he found it almost impossible to see anything. He retraced his steps and tried again, shining the beam to and fro over the water and straining his eyes to pick any form out of the darkness. As he moved his torch for one last sweep over the canal, the beam caught something pale. Was it his imagination? Had it moved?

There it was again. An eerie sound, was it a wounded animal? Surely even a rat wouldn’t venture out on this wintry night. But rats aren’t usually pale coloured. Could it be a kitten, or maybe the shape was just a piece of paper?

Joseph hesitated. It was probably nothing worth stopping for, but something niggled at him, making him turn back from his homeward path. He picked his way over the main bridge and round the basin to the other side, where he knew there was another low bridge, which was about where he thought the pale object must be. Sure enough, as he approached it from the back, he heard that sound again, fainter still. Whatever it was, he needed to find it soon. He clambered down and under the bridge, ducking to shine his torch through the profuse undergrowth.

‘There it is!’ he said out loud to himself, reaching what looked like a parcel wrapped in newspaper, only two or three inches from the water’s edge. But this was no normal parcel. As he peeled back the paper, he found inside a scrawny newborn baby, white, cold and whimpering. Joseph was shocked beyond belief: he’d seen rats as big as cats down there, capable of attacking this baby or pushing him into the canal.

He wrapped him up again and placed him inside his coat, holding him close to try to warm him, and turned to go back up to the street, where he knew there was a phone box to dial 999. Police Constable Watson came to meet Joseph and took his name, then noted down his brief account of finding the baby.

‘Well done, mate,’ he told him. ‘You might have saved a life tonight.’

Joseph smiled and went on his way, back to his wife and children. Meanwhile, the policeman hailed a squad car and took the baby straight to the Accident Hospital, where he was rushed through and seen straight away. A nurse gently opened up the two layers of newspaper and removed the thin, stained blanket beneath. She gasped when she saw the baby’s roughly cut umbilical cord.

‘Do you think the mother gave birth alone?’ she asked.

‘Yes, it looks like it,’ said the doctor. ‘And he looks underweight, probably premature.’ Clearly shocked, he examined the boy. ‘He’s only about two hours old, and his temperature is very low,’ he said as he gently rubbed the baby’s fragile skin in an attempt to warm him up. ‘He’s suffering from exposure. It’s touch and go, I’m afraid.’

Another nurse arrived and weighed him before swaddling him in a soft, warm blanket.

‘Call the night sister,’ ordered the doctor. ‘And see if you can find the Chaplain. This baby needs to be baptised, he may not survive the night.’

The night sister came and the Chaplain too.

‘What name shall I give him?’ he asked.

‘Any ideas?’ the night sister asked the nurses.

‘He looks like a Richard,’ suggested one of them, so that was the name he was given.

‘We must transfer him to Dudley Road Maternity Hospital,’ said the doctor. ‘They can put him in an incubator to give him the best chance. Can you arrange that please, Sister?’

As they waited for the paperwork to be completed, the nurses gathered round baby Richard, who had by now regained a little colour and started to cry and kick his legs up. Everyone smiled to see him protesting.