The Girl in the Scrapbook by Carolyn Ruffles (reading women TXT) 📕

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Chapter 25

Jennifer – January 2017

The letter read, Emily and Jennifer sat silently side by side holding hands. Somehow that had happened whilst they were reading and now neither wanted to be the first to let go. Jennifer felt as if the world had shifted and she was falling through time and space. Nothing would ever be the same again.

Alex was still watching the DVD and cartoon images sprung garishly across the screen, chasing each other to the accompaniment of an orchestral soundtrack. The four pages of the letter lay still in Emily’s lap.

They sat like that for a long time. Finally, Emily picked up the pages and began reading again, trying to absorb every detail, every nuance. With a sigh, she set the letter aside once more.

‘Poor Iris,’ she said sadly, eyes down, idly pulling at a loose thread on the jade green jumper she was wearing. She looked across at Jennifer for the first time. ‘Jen, are you alright?’

Jennifer’s face was drained of all colour and she was gazing at nothing, her thoughts a wild tumble of confusion. Emily’s voice seemed to come from a long way off, tugging her back.

‘I … I … don’t know exactly.’ She stared at Emily helplessly.

‘What’s happened?’

Jennifer shook her head. How could she put this into words? It was all too new, too much of a shock. Saying the words aloud would make it real and she was not ready.

‘I’ll fetch you some water.’ Emily sprang to her feet and disappeared into the kitchen. She returned a few moments later and handed Jennifer the drink.

Jennifer took a sip and then another while Emily waited, watching her face anxiously. ‘Was it something in the letter?’

A single nod. ‘Yes.’

‘Do you know her? Do you know Elizabeth?’

‘Yes.’ Jennifer took a deep breath. ‘She was my mother.’

Stunned silence. Jennifer could see the shock in Emily’s face.

‘But … I don’t understand …’

‘I know. Me neither. Here we are looking for your family and I find mine. It’s hard to believe.’

‘But how do you know? What makes you so sure?’

‘It was the names, Louisa and Thomas Bainbridge. They were my grandparents, Gramps and Granny. Gramps was a military man through and through, an ex-army Major General. I always knew that they had adopted my mum and she had spent most of her childhood in India.’ She sighed. ‘It’s tragic, really. Iris would have been so upset to learn the truth; it’s best she never knew. My mum did not have a happy childhood. Gramps was incredibly strict and tended to treat her like one of his recruits. Granny was scared of him and only knew how to obey. It was a life of hard work, regimental discipline and loneliness. She was fourteen or fifteen when they returned to England and settled in a village near Cambridge. Up until then, my mum had always toed the line. She knew nothing else. Then, at her English boarding school, she met girls of her age who were used to a lot more freedom. She started to rebel, get into trouble. Apparently, she got caught when she was out with another girl and a couple of the village lads after dark. She was expelled from the school and returned home in disgrace. Gramps was furious. By now she was sixteen and he decided he’d had enough of looking after her. She needed a husband to keep her in order. Suitable candidates were found and invited to tea. My mum was furious and refused to play ball but he wore her down in the end. She was introduced to a local doctor, a tall, handsome man called Stephen Thompson. He was quite a bit older than she was, twenty-six years older, I think, and he swept her off her feet. I think she thought that she was in love at the time and marriage to him meant a way out. She fell pregnant almost immediately and had me but there were complications with the birth which meant she could have no more children. My poor mum. It was a case of out of the frying pan and into the fire. My father was another who liked to control those around him and it was my mum’s lot to make his life comfortable. He ground her down in so many ways, so many unkindnesses, and eventually the shine went out of her. Before that though, there were lots of arguments and lots of cold silences. She always looked out for me, stood up for me when he treated me unkindly. He wanted to send me away to boarding school when I was eight but she wouldn’t let him. I remember they had the most terrible row but she insisted she wouldn’t be parted from me.’ She smiled briefly. ‘I can still recall his face – so red with rage I thought his head might explode! Sadly though, all the battles took its toll on her health and she died of cancer when she was only thirty-nine. That was over thirty years ago.’

‘Poor Elizabeth and poor you too!’ Emily was immediately full of sympathy.

Jennifer shrugged. ‘It was a long while ago. I never think of it, or hardly ever, and then I read your letter. It just seems so absurd. We were meant to be searching for your history, not mine! And what does all this mean for you?’

‘Who knows? Hey, I’ve just thought. It means we could be related!’

Jennifer smiled and gave her a hug. ‘That would be the best news of all. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather be related to!’

‘Just imagine!’ Emily’s eyes were shining. ‘Tell me more about Elizabeth. What was she like?’

‘As a mum, she was quite strict. She wouldn’t let me get away with any nonsense but I always knew she loved me by the way she fought my corner. She wasn’t very demonstrative – I don’t suppose she’d had much experience of hugs and cuddles