Kitty Neale - Forgotten Child

Delia moved away from Robin, pleased that things had gone so well. He had looked shocked to see her in such a state, and she was glad of her acting abilities. As a child her own mother had called her a drama queen, saying she was destined for the stage, though of course if Delia had suggested actually ever going to a stage school, both her parents would have been scandalised.

She had loved her calm, staid father, and been heartbroken when he had died suddenly of a heart attack at just fifty. She had been thirteen at the time and her older sister, Beatrice, seventeen. Though Delia had wanted to cling to both her mother and sister, emotions were never displayed and tears never shown in public. They had set her a wonderful example and she had grown up emulating their proud upright and dignified manner.

At twenty, Beatrice had married well to a diplomat who was posted abroad. It had been heartbreaking to see her sister leave, especially when just three years later her mother, also young at forty-six, had become seriously ill. Before her mother had died, she’d encouraged Delia to emulate Beatrice in marrying well. With her sister able to return from abroad only for the funeral, Delia had been left feeling totally alone.

He may not have been perfect, but Delia had married the first man who asked her – Edward. That side of marriage had shocked her, however. She wasn’t used to being held or kissed, and on her wedding night, when things had gone further, she had been horrified. She didn’t like it, found it messy, distasteful, and though she had never wanted to adopt Jennifer, it had at least given her the perfect ammunition to stop much further sexual activity. That, along with her nerves, had ensured that she always managed to get her own way, which was no more than Edward deserved.

Delia expected Jennifer home soon and now turned her mind to her plans. By being rude, by defying her, the stupid girl had played right into her hands. All she had to do now was to lay a trap – and in such a way that it would arouse the same response from Jennifer in Robin’s hearing.

‘That sounds like Jenny coming in,’ he said.

As Robin was still looking at her worriedly, Delia decided there was no time like the present. She pretended to sway a little before sitting down.

‘I feel a little dizzy and my throat is parched,’ she said. As the girl walked into the room she added tremulously, ‘Jennifer, there you are. I’m still upset about your behaviour, but before we talk about it please make me a cup of tea.’

‘You said there’s ironing waiting to be done and as I’m not an octopus, or your servant, you can make your own tea. I’m going upstairs to change.’

‘See, Robin, I told you,’ Delia wailed as Jennifer stalked off. ‘That was nothing in comparison to how she usually talks to me. It’s usually worse than that, much worse.’

‘Please, Mummy, calm down. I’ll make you a drink and then I’ll have a few words to say to Jenny.’

Delia slumped, holding both hands over her face to hide her true feelings. She’d hardly had to make any effort at all before Jennifer had reacted – and in just the way she had wanted.

Jenny was pleased that she’d stood up to her mother again, but had only just changed out of her school clothes when her bedroom door was flung open and Robin stormed into the room.

‘If I hadn’t heard it with my own ears, I’d never have believed it. You were rude to Mother and now she’s in a dreadful state.’

‘I only told her to make her own tea. That’s hardly reason to get into a state.’

‘From what she told me it isn’t the first time you’ve been rude to her. In fact you’ve been making her life hell.’

‘Robin, all I did was to refuse to walk home with her after we’d seen the careers adviser.’

‘There must be more to it than that. Mother is at the end of her tether, her nerves so bad that I fear she might be having a nervous breakdown.’

‘If she is, it’s got nothing to do with me,’ Jenny protested.

‘I doubt that, and from now on I don’t want her upset. I want you to come downstairs and apologise, but be warned, Jenny. If she isn’t better by the time Dad comes home I intend to tell him what you’ve been up to.’

‘But I haven’t been up to anything!’ she called, but Robin had already marched out and her door slammed behind him.

Jenny slumped onto the side of her bed. Today had been the first time she had defied her mother and surely that wasn’t enough to cause a nervous breakdown? She had wanted to stand up for herself, but somehow it had backfired, and instead something was going on – something Jenny couldn’t grasp. She longed to escape all this, but she couldn’t leave home yet, had to wait until she was sixteen, followed by two more weeks at school before the end of term.

Worried and confused by Robin’s threat to tell her father, Jenny realised that her newfound courage had already deserted her.

Robin was thankful that an uneasy truce had now been formed. He kept a careful watch on both his mother and Jenny, at first not knowing whom to believe. Jenny insisted that she’d never been rude before, while his mother said the opposite, that it had been going on for years. Jenny said that she had always been treated badly when he wasn’t around, almost like a slave, but his mother again said the opposite.

However, his mother was still a bundle of nerves, so to keep her happy Robin kept his promise, the two of them calculating the starting up costs and profit projections for the new business. He had his concerns, especially about the initial costs, but his mother had told him there was no need to worry – that if her savings were insufficient she would go to the bank for a loan. He didn’t like this idea, suggesting instead that she approached his father for funding, but she would have none of it and, rather than upset her, Robin had said no more.

Five weeks had now passed and he hadn’t heard his mother being anything other than kind to Jenny. On the other hand, though she wasn’t actually rude, Jenny was barely polite. She’d be sixteen tomorrow, and Robin was wrapping her present.

‘I wasn’t sure what to get Jenny for her birthday, so settled on a book as usual. What about you?’

‘Your father is buying her a record player and it will be from both of us. Talk of the devil,’ she said as the telephone rang. ‘That’s probably him now. He usually rings to let me know when to expect him.’

Robin had finished wrapping the book and, intending to put it in his room until tomorrow morning, he followed his mother into the hall, pausing to listen to the one-sided conversation. He gleaned enough to realise there was a problem, but then there was a flurry of activity overhead and he quickly hid his present behind his back as Jenny appeared.

His mother had just replaced the receiver and, leaning over the banister, Jenny said, ‘I heard the telephone. Was it Daddy? When is he arriving?’

Delia’s reply was short. ‘He isn’t coming home.’

‘But…but he promised,’ Jenny cried.

‘Work always comes first with your father and you should have learned that by now. He obviously feels it’s more important than your birthday.’

Jenny looked stricken and fled back to her room.

‘That was a bit harsh, Mother,’ Robin said.

‘I don’t see why. I only told her the truth.’ Then her voice cracked. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Robin. I was annoyed that your father broke his promise and spoke without thinking. It’s always the same. He causes upset, but it’s me who’s shown in a bad light.’

Robin was alarmed that his mother was still so fragile, so easily upset. ‘You aren’t to blame and I’m sure Jenny knows that. I’ll go and have a word with her.’