Forgotten Child. Kitty Neale

showed it.

      ‘Robin, if you don’t get a move on you’ll be late too.’

      ‘I’ll be off in a minute,’ he said. ‘I’ll be interested to hear how Jenny got on with the careers adviser when I come home.’

      ‘I intend to see that she’s given the best advice but, let’s face it, Jennifer has never been as bright as you. Nonetheless, I’d like to see her with some sort of career, and I’ll make sure she isn’t fobbed off with some sort of dead-end job.’

      ‘Jobs that offer a career usually start out with low pay.’

      ‘If she’s given the opportunity for advancement, the opening salary is irrelevant. After all, living at home, Jennifer won’t have to worry about her earnings.’

      ‘Right, I’d best be off,’ Robin said, relieved that it was likely that Jenny wouldn’t be earning enough to leave home for some time yet.

      ‘Bye, darling,’ Delia called.

      Robin happily went off to college, content in the knowledge that Jenny would still be there, at least until he hopefully left for university next year. A year, Robin thought. He’d leave it for a year, but then he’d make his move.

      

      Jenny had left Castle Close, hoping to meet up with Tina Hammond on the way to school. She knew her mother disapproved of their friendship, and she wasn’t allowed to invite Tina to the house, but nevertheless they remained constant friends, albeit behind Delia’s back. Jenny preferred to have one special friend, a best friend rather than a group, and Tina partly fulfilled something she felt missing in her life – a sort of kinship. Though they occasionally chatted to other girls, for the most part the two of them were inseparable. Physically, they were very different, Jenny blonde and pale, Tina dark, her eyes brown and her skin olive toned. They both wanted to swap their colouring for each other’s, and had laughed when they had first found this out.

      Tina and her family lived in Princes Way, an area that had changed so radically in recent years that it had become something else for her mother to carp about. It had started with the building of a block of council flats, and had progressed to the development of what were now purpose-built estates of houses and maisonettes. A few large houses remained, set behind high walls, and though their proximity to Wimbledon Common still made them desirable, her mother said that because they were now surrounded by council property, they had depreciated greatly in value.

      Tina’s family didn’t own one of these big houses. They rented a council flat and of course Jenny knew this was why her mother disapproved of their friendship. Unlike them, the Hammonds weren’t well off, but Jenny hated her mother’s snobbishness and would have swapped places with her friend like a shot. Tina’s mum was kind, didn’t suffer from nerves and wasn’t obsessed with housework. She was a short, tubby woman who was full of laughter, her welcome always so warm that over the years Jenny had often found the cramped flat a much-needed escape from the coldness of her own home life.

      ‘Jenny! Jenny, over here!’

      Jenny dashed across the road to join her friend.

      ‘Where have you been?’ asked Tina. ‘I waited in on Saturday but you didn’t come round.’

      ‘I’m sorry, but my father came home for the weekend.’

      ‘That explains it then. Thankfully mine didn’t show his face.’

      ‘What do you mean? Your dad’s nice,’ Jenny protested. Tina’s father was a long-distance lorry driver who was rarely in when she called round, but from what she’d seen he was full of affection for both Tina and her older sister.

      ‘Huh, so he’s fooled you too. Oh, I don’t want to talk about my dad. Change the subject, Jenny.’

      Jenny was puzzled, but nevertheless did as Tina asked. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t come round, but you didn’t wait in all day for me, did you?’

      ‘No, I gave up by one o’clock and went to buy a new record. T-Rex has got two in the charts now, but I only had enough money for one. Ooh, I just love Marc Bolan.’

      ‘Yes, I know,’ Jenny said, smiling ruefully. ‘You hardly talk about anything else.’

      ‘Well, he is gorgeous.’

      Jenny wasn’t going to argue. Tina was absolutely mad about Marc Bolan and her bedroom walls were festooned with his posters. However, even had Jenny had an idol, she would never have been allowed to decorate her room with pictures of them. It was another thing that emphasised the many differences between Tina’s home life and her own.

      ‘I got a shock this morning,’ Jenny said. ‘My mother’s coming with me to see the careers adviser.’

      ‘Is she? Mine isn’t.’

      This was the last thing Jenny expected to hear. ‘I thought your mummy would insist on being there.’

      ‘Mummy! Gawd, you’d think I’d be used to the way you talk by now, but sometimes it still sounds so funny and posh. Anyway, as for my mum, all she did was to offer a bit of advice. She said to forget Germaine Greer and the feminist movement because it’s all nonsense. Instead I should take anything on offer with decent pay and it’ll do until the right man comes along.’

      ‘And will you?’

      ‘I’ll take anything that pays well, but not for those reasons. What about you? What sort of job are you looking for?’

      ‘I’m not sure, but one day I’d like to earn enough money to rent a place of my own.’

      ‘Do you really mean that, Jen? If you do, I wouldn’t mind sharing it with you.’

      ‘Why would you want to leave home?’

      ‘’Cos my sister’s said she’s moving out soon. That’ll just leave me for him to start on.’

      Jenny didn’t have a clue what Tina was talking about and asked, ‘Who’ll start on you? And start what?’

      ‘I…I can’t tell you. He…he’ll kill me.’

      ‘Tina, I’m your friend, your best friend, and there’s nothing you can’t tell me. If you want me to keep it to myself, I will, and you know that.’

      At these words, as though a dam had burst, Tina haltingly told her. Jenny’s stomach lurched in horror. She had envied her friend, had thought of her home as a haven, but now realised it was all an illusion. It was horrific to hear, dreadful, and as Tina continued to talk, Jenny felt the last vestiges of her childhood, of her innocence, being stripped away.

      ‘Oh, Tina, we’ve been friends for all this time and I had no idea. Why didn’t you tell me before?’

      ‘Because the sick thing is, I grew up thinking it’s normal, something that all dads do to their daughters. By the time I realised it wasn’t, I was too scared of me dad to open me mouth. Oh Gawd, Jen, I shouldn’t have told you. Don’t tell anyone! Promise me you won’t tell anyone!’

      Jenny’s heart went out to Tina and she reached out to clutch her friend’s hand. ‘I promise, but surely there’s something you and Mandy can do to stop him? Why don’t you tell the police?’

      ‘He’d deny it and he’s clever. He’s made sure there’s no proof.’

      ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘He hasn’t, you know…gone all the way. He…he makes us use our mouths.’

      ‘But what about your mum? Haven’t you told her?’

      ‘Jenny,’ Tina said, her voice strangled with pain. ‘She already knows.’

      Bile rose in Jenny’s throat. How could she? How could Tina’s mother allow it to happen?

      ‘If Mandy’s moving out, why don’t you go with her?’

      ‘I asked, begged,