Forgotten Child. Kitty Neale

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.’

      ‘I…I should do it,’ Delia said, but tears began to come in earnest now.

      Robin put an arm around her, leading her back into the drawing room. His mother needed him and Jenny would have to wait.

      

      Jenny was unable to deny the truth of her mother’s words. Her father had put his work first, so much so that it was more important than his promise to be there for her birthday. He hadn’t even asked to speak to her, to offer any explanation, and Jenny couldn’t help wondering if it was because she wasn’t his real daughter. Perhaps it wasn’t possible to really love a child who wasn’t your own – that had certainly proved to be the case with Delia.

      Jenny hadn’t been able to stand up to her, not with Robin so sure that she had caused this so-called bout of bad nerves, and no matter how much she protested, told him that it was all an act that their mother dropped when he wasn’t around, Robin didn’t seem to believe her.

      All Jenny thought about now was getting out of this house, and she was counting the days to the end of term. Tomorrow, on her birthday, she had planned to tell her parents that she was leaving home – that she and Tina were going to look for a flat together as soon as they left school. She had been worried about her father’s reaction, but wasn’t worried any longer. He wouldn’t care. Once again Jenny was swamped with a familiar feeling, one of loneliness, of something missing in her life. She was alone, without real parents, or anyone else who cared about her.

      But wait, she did have someone; she had Tina, who saw them as sisters, and at this thought Jenny came to a swift decision. Of course, she would have to speak to Tina, but she doubted her friend would take any persuasion. Only moments later Jenny went downstairs, saying shortly as she poked her head into the drawing room, ‘I’m going out for a walk.’

      She didn’t wait for a response before heading outside. So intent was she on speaking to Tina that her face was gleaming with perspiration by the time she reached Princes Way.

      As Jenny entered the block of flats she hoped that Tina’s father was away, the thought of even looking at the man making her stomach churn. She took the lift to the fifth floor and, fingers crossed, she stepped out to knock on Tina’s door. She was thankful that it was her friend who opened it.

      ‘Tina, can you come out for a while?’

      ‘You look all hot and bothered. What’s wrong?’

      ‘I need to talk to you.’

      ‘Come on in,’ Tina offered.

      ‘No, we need to be on our own.’

      ‘Oh, right. Hang on then. I’ll just grab my shoes.’

      ‘Tina! Who’s that at the door?’

      ‘It’s Jenny. We’re just going out for a while, Mum,’ Tina called back. She winked, disappeared for a moment, and then reappeared, hopping on one foot as she put on her other shoe. ‘Right, let’s go.’

      Jenny said nothing until the lift doors closed behind them, and then drew in a deep breath. ‘Tina, instead of waiting, I want to leave home now.’

      ‘What! Blimey, we’ve still got a week till the end of term. What’s brought this on?’

      ‘I’ve just had enough. You were sixteen last week, and as it’s my birthday tomorrow I can’t see the school kicking up a fuss if we don’t go back.’

      ‘Yeah, I suppose you’re right. When do you want us to leave?’

      ‘Tomorrow.’

      ‘Gawd, that soon?’ Tina said, as they stepped out of the lift, but then she grinned. ‘Yeah, well, as far as I’m concerned it couldn’t have come at a better time. My dad’s due home on Sunday and you know what that means.’

      ‘Oh Tina, yes, we’ve got to get you out of there. We could pack tonight and leave in the morning.’

      ‘Yeah, that could work. With the old man arriving, mum is sure to go out to get in a bit of shopping. I could sneak out then, but I won’t be able to say for sure what time it will be.’

      ‘Don’t worry. I’ll have to draw some money from my post office savings book, and after that I’ll wait for you in that café on the corner of the High Street.’

      Tina linked arms with Jenny. ‘It all feels like a dream, and I can hardly believe we’re really leaving.’

      ‘Well we are. I just hope that when we get to Chelsea we’ll be able to find somewhere to stay.’

      ‘It’ll be a doddle,’ Tina said with assurance. ‘We just need to buy the local paper and there’s sure to be rooms advertised.’

      ‘Yes, but will they let us move in straightaway?’

      ‘I dunno, but fingers crossed. If the worst comes to the worst, I suppose there’s always a hotel.’

      ‘That would soon swallow up my savings,’ Jenny said worriedly.

      ‘Now you sound like you’re changing your mind.’

      ‘No,