Forgotten Child (29 page)

It was raining as Jenny and Nuala set off for Kilkee. Finn had shown her the route, across the River Shannon then on into County Clare. The road looked all right at first, but then they would have to leave it and take a minor one to the coast which Jenny knew from experience would slow them down. She knew Nuala was itching to get there and as she drove she asked, ‘Are you all right, Nuala?’

‘Yes, anxious to see my dada, that’s all.’

‘Tell me more about Kilkee,’ Jenny said, hoping it would take Nuala’s mind off her fears.

‘I told you, it’s beautiful, but it’s not just that, the weather can be soft there too. My dada says it’s because the rocks of Duggerna Reef guard the bay from the full force of the Atlantic and the beach has lovely soft sand that slopes gently down to the sea.’

‘It certainly sounds lovely.’

‘It is, and I’ve seen dolphins in the bay. Now they’re a sight to behold.’

‘Oh, I’d love to see dolphins.’

‘I can’t promise that, but you don’t have to rush back to Limerick. I know you’re disappointed that you didn’t find your mother’s grave, and perhaps before you go back to England a little holiday in Kilkee is just what you need.’

‘I must admit I was upset, though I felt better after talking to you. It…it’s something else now, something that seems to be pulling at me and…oh, this is going to sound silly.’

‘I doubt it’ll sound any sillier than my feelings, but I’ve learned to trust them.’

‘It’s just that I felt drawn to come to Ireland, as if something was calling me, and now when I go back to England I’ll feel I’ve left something unfinished, something just out of reach.’

‘You did your best, Jenny, and if this is guilt you’re feeling there’s no need.’

‘No, it isn’t that…at least I don’t think so.’

‘Ah well, as I said, maybe a little holiday in Kilkee will do you good. Did I tell you it’s a place to soothe your soul?’

‘Yes, and perhaps I will stay for a few days,’ Jenny said. She didn’t tell Nuala that as they continued their journey the feeling she had of being pulled was growing stronger. Maybe Nuala’s anxiety about her father was rubbing off, and now she too began to worry about what they’d find.

Passing through Kilrush, Nuala knew that they’d soon be there. The sky had now cleared and the sun was shining, the sea gleaming both to the front and the side of them. Loop Head was off to the far left of the peninsula and Kilkee just ahead. It was strange, but the closer they got, the more her anxiety lifted. She felt a little foolish that she’d made such a fuss, Jenny driving her all this way for what might turn out to be nothing. As Maeve had said, her father was no worse than usual.

Lacking any sense of urgency now, Nuala directed Jenny to her family home, though only her father and sister still lived there now. When they pulled up outside the stone-fronted, two-storey house, Nuala got out of the car, but Jenny remained behind the wheel.

‘Come on, Jenny,’ she urged.

‘Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.’

‘Don’t be daft. Now get out of that car.’

As Jenny did so, the front door opened and Maeve stood on the step, waving. Nuala smiled, pleased to see her sister. Maeve had never married, no man able to see past her outward appearance, and as a young woman she had almost entered a convent. Perhaps she should have warned Jenny, but thankfully she acted perfectly normal when Maeve spoke as they walked up the path.

‘Hello, Nuala, and you must be Jenny.’

‘Yes. It’s nice to meet you,’ Jenny said.

As they walked inside, Nuala’s eyes went straight to her father and she rushed to kneel at his side. ‘Dada, how are you?’

‘’Tis just me chest, that’s all, and Maeve told you that.’

‘I know, but I wanted to see for myself.’

‘Well now you have, so get off your knees and pour me a drop of whiskey.’

‘No, Dada,’ Maeve warned. ‘You can have a cup of tea, but none of the hard stuff.’

‘Stop treating me like a child in me own house. If I want a drink I’ll have one.’

‘It’s only half past ten,’ Maeve said patiently. ‘Can you not wait till lunchtime?’

‘I can’t see the hands on that clock and thought it was later than that. Yes, all right, I’ll have a cup of tea.’

‘Dada, this is Jenny. She drove me here to see you,’ Nuala said.

The old man’s rheumy eyes looked at Jenny and his old Irish charm was evident as he said with a smile, ‘Hello, darlin’, and welcome to me home.’

‘Thank you,’ she said.

‘Jenny, sit down,’ Nuala urged. ‘I’ll give Maeve a hand with the tea.’

Going into the kitchen, however, she found that Maeve already had it made. ‘I’m sorry, you were right–Dada seems fine.’

‘He’s as tough as old boots, but it’s lovely to
see you and I hope you’re still going to stay for a week.’

‘Yes, of course I am, and, Maeve, I think Jenny would like to stay for a few days too.’

‘She’ll be welcome,’ Maeve said. ‘Jenny seems a nice girl and didn’t even blink when she first saw me. Did you warn her?’

‘No, I didn’t think to.’

‘There’s something familiar about her, as if I’ve seen her before but can’t place where.’

‘Jenny’s from England so I doubt that. She came here to find her mother’s grave, and is sore disappointed that she couldn’t.’

‘Did her mother come from these parts?’

‘No, but it’s a long story so I’ll save it till later,’ Nuala said, the two of them saying no more for the time being as they took the tea through.

Jenny was chatting to Nuala’s father, but a part of her mind was elsewhere. From the moment she had driven into Kilkee it had felt as if she’d been there before, had seen it before…though of course that was impossible.

Nuala’s father was a lovely old man, telling her all about Kilkee, and Jenny listened patiently though she’d heard most of it from Nuala. It had been a bit of a shock when she’d first seen Maeve, but she’d managed to hide it. Maeve was tiny, badly deformed, with one leg shorter than the other and her back
humped crookedly. It made her head sit to one side towards her left shoulder, yet when she smiled, it was Maeve’s face that arrested you, intelligence shining out of the most beautiful blue eyes that Jenny had ever seen.

‘Moore Bay is nice, but there are some lovely cliff walks to explore if you’ve a mind,’ the old man said.

‘Yes, I’d love to see more of Kilkee.’

‘Well now, as you’re staying with us for a few days, you’ll be able to do just that,’ Maeve said as she placed a teapot on the table.

‘I…I was going to find a hotel.’

‘Sure, there’s no need for that. We’ve got plenty of room, haven’t we, Dada?’

‘Yes, but if I’m to have three women in my house, I don’t want you all fussing over me.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Nuala said. ‘We won’t do that.’

‘Of course you can all take it in turns to pour me a whiskey,’ he said, his wizened face crinkling as he smiled cheekily. ‘I just hope yous two won’t be as mean as Maeve with the measures.’

Jenny found his smile infectious, and the sisters obviously did too.

‘Dada, you know that isn’t true’ said Maeve, though she was smiling.

‘Don’t you be believing her,’ the old man said. ‘I think she uses a thimble as a measure.’

Jenny laughed then and they all joined in. As soon as she’d seen Kilkee she’d decided to stay for a while,
intending to find a hotel, but was now glad that she’d been invited to stay with Nuala’s lovely family. Once again, she didn’t think it was the place that would soothe her soul, it was these wonderful people, the fondness they had for each other shining through. Not only that, she would be able to spend more time with Nuala, a woman she’d have loved as her mother–the mother she had never known.

With their father settled for the night, and Jenny in bed too, Nuala and Maeve were still up. They didn’t see each other that often and were enjoying catching up, but it was Jenny who was the first subject up for discussion, Maeve saying, ‘So, are you going to tell me more about Jenny?’

‘She’s been quiet all day and hardly opened her mouth when we went out for a walk.’

‘She has a look of sadness about her, but as you told me she can’t find her mother’s grave, I suppose that explains it.’

‘Yes, the poor girl was adopted and seems to have this need to find ties to her mother.’

‘Why was she adopted?’

‘Her mother died giving birth in a home for unmarried mothers. It was run by nuns and Jenny was told it was in Limerick.’

‘Why couldn’t she find it?’

‘I don’t know, and ’tis odd. Jenny said the man who adopted her and took her back to England
collected her from there, so why couldn’t he say exactly where it was?’

‘Yes, that is a bit strange. Where was her mother born?’

‘That’s another odd thing. Jenny was told that her mother came from Dray, but there was no trace of her, or any other family there. I wouldn’t say this to Jenny, but I think it’s almost as if this man doesn’t want her to find any trace of her family.’

‘I still think I’ve seen her somewhere before. You don’t think her mother came from these parts, do you, and I’m seeing a family resemblance?’

‘I suppose anything’s possible, but rather than raise false hope I think it’s best not to mention it. Jenny’s been searching long enough, and I don’t think she could stand any more disappointment.’

‘Yes, you’re probably right. Now come on, tell me all about Aiden. I hope you’ve brought some photographs with you.’

‘Of course I have,’ Nuala said, going to get her handbag, all thoughts of Jenny and her family forgotten for a while now as she proudly showed off her new grandson.

Jenny awoke the next morning, anxious to see more of Kilkee. Nuala had walked her down to the promenade yesterday and, as Jenny’s eyes had swept the beach, she’d been overwhelmed by that feeling again. She had seen it before and now knew where. It was the place, the beautiful one she had seen in her dreams. If she hadn’t offered to drive Nuala here she’d never have found it, and now the coincidences–Nuala having being born here for one–were piling up until she was utterly confused.

Jenny was the last up and Nuala and her father smiled warmly when they saw her, the delicious smell of bacon cooking wafting from the kitchen.

‘Jenny, you’re just in time for breakfast,’ Nuala said.

‘Sorry, I didn’t realise it was gone nine.’

‘If you’re not used to it, ’tis the sea air. I slept in a bit too.’

‘As everyone would have the Irish say, top of the morning to you, Jenny,’ said Maeve as she came in from the kitchen. ‘Now, how about the pair of you giving me a hand?’

‘You wouldn’t think she’s the youngest, would you?’ Nuala said as they followed Maeve. ‘She sounds just like my mother.’

‘I’m only three years younger than you, and ’tis you who mothers everyone if you get the chance. I bet Kaitlin doesn’t get a look in with Aiden.’

‘Sure she does…well, when I’m not around.’

Jenny listened to the banter, feeling almost at home in this cosy house. She took the plates as they were handed to her, and found she couldn’t wait to tuck in. The sea air may have made her sleep in, but it had also given her an appetite. When they sat down to eat she found the bacon perfect and crisp, and the egg cooked just right as she dipped thickly buttered bread into the yolk.

Once her plate was clean, Jenny sat sipping a cup of tea and her eyes strayed to the window. It was another lovely day and she couldn’t wait to go out.

‘Nuala, after we’ve cleared up, do you mind if I go for a walk?’

‘You don’t have to ask my permission,’ Nuala gently admonished. ‘You’re on holiday and free to do what you like.’

‘That’s right, after all, Nuala isn’t your mammy,’
Maeve said, then blanched. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.’

‘That’s it, let Jenny know I’ve been talking about her,’ scolded Nuala.

‘It’s all right, I don’t mind, and as for Nuala being my mother, Maeve, I wish she was.’

‘Oh, Jenny, what a lovely thing to say,’ Nuala said as her eyes flooded with tears.

‘Now don’t start blabbing,’ Nuala’s father admonished. ‘I don’t know what’s the matter with the lot of you. Three women here now and not one of you’s poured me another cup of tea.’

The emotional spell broken, they all laughed, and after helping to wash up Jenny was soon on her way down to the sea.

‘I’m sorry, Nuala, I spoke without thinking,’ Maeve said as the door closed behind Jenny.

‘It’s all right. Jenny didn’t seem to mind that I’d told you about her.’

Maeve grinned. ‘She’d have to be desperate to want you for a mother.’

‘You cheeky…’

‘Sure, I’m only joking,’ Maeve interrupted hastily.

‘I hope you two are not going to keep this up for a week.’

‘No, Dada,’ they both chorused and then, like two young girls, they giggled.

‘Nuala, it’s lovely to have you here,’ Maeve said,
meaning it. Most of her time was spent with her father, and to see her sister was a treat.

Sometimes she envied the life Nuala had–a husband, children–and cursed that she’d been born with a deformed body. Few knew of her dreams, that one day a man would come into her life, one who would look at her without pity or disgust. She had accepted that it was never going to happen, yet still couldn’t help longing even at this age to know what it felt like to be held in a man’s arms, to be kissed, to be loved.

‘Here, Dada, take a look at my grandson,’ Nuala said, placing a photograph in his hands.

He tilted it back and forwards, trying to focus on it, but Maeve knew he could see little now.

‘Yes, a fine boy,’ he said eventually, handing it back as though he’d taken a good look.

‘Talking of boys,’ Maeve said, ‘have your sons been home lately?’

‘No, they’re still in England, working, and not one of them shows any sign of getting married.’

‘They’ve plenty of time. They’re not in their thirties yet.’

‘Dada, one is and the others aren’t far off,’ Nuala told him.

‘’Tis a shame they’ve not seen Jenny,’ said Maeve. ‘She’s a pretty girl and if she married one of them she’d at least have you for a mother-in-law.’

‘There’s nothing I’d like better, but that’s just
wishful thinking. Jenny will be gone soon, and I’m going to miss her.’

‘Where does she come from in England?’

‘I don’t know. She doesn’t say much about the family who adopted her, but I have a feeling she’s left a lot of unhappiness there.’

‘Well then, perhaps you could persuade her to stay.’

‘That would be grand, but her home is in England, not here, and as I said, she’ll soon be going back to it.’

‘Is it time for my whiskey yet?’

‘No, Dada, you’ve only just had your breakfast,’ Maeve told him, used to his constant requests, along with Nuala talking of her strange feelings. Still, it was very obvious that her sister was fond of Jenny and no doubt there’d be a few tears when she left.

Jenny saw steps leading down to the beach and decided to walk on the sand. It wasn’t the holiday season yet and there weren’t that many people about, but Nuala was right, the reef did protect the bay from the force of the Atlantic. She went down to the water’s edge, took off her shoes and began to head along the wet sand towards what she’d been told was Donegal Point.

Deep in thought, Jenny continued to walk, the beach becoming almost deserted the further she strolled. She should have written to her father, told
him she was coming back, but it hardly seemed worth it now–she’d probably arrive before the letter. As she took in the scenery, though she’d made up her mind to go to Essex, a part of Jenny still wanted to stay in Ireland, even more so now that she had seen Kilkee.

What was it about this place, Jenny wondered. Just then she saw a lone child in the distance who seemed to be searching for something in the sand. There were three people at the top of the beach chatting and the child probably belonged to one of them, Jenny decided as her thoughts now turned back to her father and the prospect of living with him in Essex.

Sand had gathered between her toes and, bending down, Jenny endeavoured to get it out, moving away from the damp sand to dry her feet. She paused to look out to sea, wondering if she would spot dolphins, but could see nothing. She wasn’t even sure it was the right time of year. She’d have to ask Nuala’s father when she went back, but for now, she continued to walk.

Jenny was close to the little girl now, the child still searching the sand, her hair a mass of dark, wind-blown curls. She had found something and looked up now, smiling with delight when she saw Jenny.

‘Erin, Erin,’ she cried, holding up a large shell, ‘look what I’ve found.’

‘It’s lovely,’ Jenny said, about to explain that her name wasn’t Erin when a young woman came hurtling down the beach towards them.

‘Faith, you know you shouldn’t talk to…’ she shouted, skidding a halt.

From that moment everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Their eyes met, and Jenny found that looking at the young woman’s face was like seeing her own reflection.

For a moment both stood frozen, neither of them able to believe what they were seeing, but then the little girl’s voice broke the spell.

‘Erin, I thought she was you. She looks just like you.’

‘How can this be?’ Erin asked.

‘I…I don’t know,’ Jenny said, unable to tear her eyes away from Erin.

‘You’re so like me you could be my twin.’

Surely it wasn’t possible, Jenny thought. They couldn’t be twins, but nevertheless she blurted out, ‘You…you weren’t adopted, were you?’

‘Yes, I was…No, don’t tell me you were too?’

Jenny nodded, and now, taking the little girl’s hand, Erin stammered, ‘I…I think we need to talk about this.’

Jenny walked beside her up the beach, finding that her head kept turning to look at Erin. Every time she did so, as though they were in unison, Erin was looking at her too. Was it possible? Jenny
thought. Were they twins? Was this the reason that she had always felt that something was missing in her life?

As they approached the two young lads that Erin had been with, their mouths gaped.

‘I know,’ she said, ‘it’s strange, but take Faith home, will you? We’ll talk about this later.’

Looking as bewildered as Jenny felt, they led the child away, while Jenny still felt she was dreaming. Alone now, the two of them began to compare things, finding many similarities, their shared birthday being the most significant.

‘Oh, Jenny, we need to sort this out, but I think you really are my twin sister,’ Erin said, and spontaneously they fell into each other’s arms.

Jenny clung to Erin. ‘Now I’ve found you, it feels like I’ve always missed you.’

‘And I you.’

Jenny knew there were a lot more questions to be asked–how they had been adopted into different families for one–but for now all she wanted was to hold her sister and never let her go.