Page 91 of The Secrets of the Tea Garden
‘Many girls have made the same mistake,’ said Lily. ‘But at least you’ve got a husband now, so be thankful for small mercies. Does he know about the baby?’
Adela nodded.
‘And does he know you’re here?’
Adela shook her head. Her throat was so constricted she couldn’t speak.
‘Go home to him, MrsJackman,’ said Lily, her tone sharper, ‘and just be grateful for what you have.’
Adela gave her a pleading look. ‘Just tell me something about my boy.’
Lily sighed. ‘I don’t have anything to tell – I hardly saw him.’
‘Did you look after him?’
‘Just for a couple of nights at the most. There was a childless couple ready to take him.’
‘What were they like?’
Lily looked agitated. ‘I shouldn’t be talking about them and you shouldn’t be asking. I’m sorry for you, dear, but if I’d known this was why you’d come I wouldn’t have agreed to see you.’
Adela felt tears spilling down her cheeks. ‘I’m so sorry, MrsSinger. I know it’s wrong of me. But I can’t go on not knowing what became of John Wesley. It’s eating away inside me. I’ve tried to forget and get on with my life but I can’t. Coming back to Newcastle has made it worse. Please, I beg of you – tell me something about his adoptive parents – so I can picture him happy. Your grandson Michael is the same age. Imagine if you never knew what had happened to him!’
‘My daughter is a good Christian girl,’ Lily protested. ‘She would never have got herself into such a mess.’
Adela fumbled for a handkerchief and wiped her face. ‘I’m sorry, MrsSinger, I shouldn’t have said that.’ She stood up to go. ‘Please forgive me for coming here like this. You’re a good person and don’t deserve to be tricked.’ Adela picked up her handbag. ‘Thank you for looking after my son – even for a short time. I’m glad it was someone caring like you. That gives me comfort.’
She walked to the door. As she reached for the handle, Lily spoke.
‘She used to come to the church – the lady that adopted your boy. She was a kind soul but a bit lonely. They weren’t from round there, didn’t know many people. Husband had come to Newcastle for work.’
Adela turned towards Lily and held her breath, willing her to say more. When she didn’t, Adela dared to ask, ‘Where were they from?’
‘I don’t rightly know,’ said Lily, ‘but they were foreign.’
‘Foreign?’ Adela gasped in surprise.
‘Yes, French, I think. That’s why we thought the baby would suit them, with him not being quite white-skinned. They looked the same, you see – especially the father.’
Adela felt light-headed. She wasn’t aware of a Frenchwoman among the congregation but surely it would be possible to trace a French couple in Newcastle?
‘Don’t ask me anything more about them,’ Lily cautioned. ‘I don’t know what happened to them. Probably went back to France. But you mustn’t tell anyone that I told you. It’s in strictest confidence. You won’t go bothering them if they’re still in Newcastle, will you?’
‘No, MrsSinger,’ said Adela, blinking away fresh tears. ‘I promise you I won’t bother them. I’m so very grateful for what you’ve told me. My worst fear was that my son was in an institution with no one really caring for him.’ Adela managed a tearful smile. ‘But I like the sound of this French couple – so thank you.’
She went swiftly so that she wouldn’t have to explain her distressed state to Dorothy or the curious Maureen. Adela closed the front door behind her and hurried blindly down the hill.
Adela saw Sam pacing outside Tilly’s house, smoking, as she rounded the corner. She tensed, ready for his anger. Her head was fuzzy from the couple of sherries she had stopped to drink in the station buffet. She had wanted to clear her head and think about everything Lily had told her. The third sherry had been a mistake.
‘Where have you been all this time?’ Sam demanded, stamping out his cigarette. ‘It’s practically dark. Mother said you left Josey in charge. What’s been going on? Josey went off to the theatre without saying a word.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Adela, ‘I didn’t realise it was so late.’
‘Who’ve you been with?’
Seeing his troubled look, Adela couldn’t lie. ‘I’ve been to Durham – it took longer than I thought.’
‘Durham? Why?’
