Kitty Neale

Forgotten Child


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to rent a room, but as the job she was starting was a local one, it wouldn’t be far away.

      At last, realising that all this could work out to his advantage, Robin smiled. Jenny would be living alone, and would perhaps be so lonely that she’d welcome his company. When he called round to see her, there’d be just the two of them and as his imagination took over, Robin groaned, his hand snaking downwards as he sought release.

      

      Jenny packed, stuffing all that she could into an old rucksack that she had once used for a Guides camping trip, and then finally climbed into bed.

      She thought over all that had happened recently. Thanks to Robin blurting it out, everything made more sense. Out of her hearing, her mother must have suggested that she leave home, but Robin, and perhaps her father, had been against it.

      How clever her mother had been, pretending to agree that she was too young, pretending that she cared, convincing Robin that she didn’t want her to go, yet all the time planning a way to drive her out.

      Oh, what did it matter? She’d be gone in the morning, her only regret that she wasn’t able to say goodbye to her father. Yet he wasn’t really her father. If he had been he wouldn’t have broken his promise. Feeling the threat of tears, Jenny blinked rapidly.

      No, she wouldn’t cry. She was being childish and by acting childishly she had played right into her mother’s hands. It was time to grow up. Tomorrow was going to be the start of a new chapter in her life, one she couldn’t wait to begin.

       Chapter Eleven

      Edward arrived home at eleven in the morning, two weeks after Jenny’s birthday. He had wanted to be there, had promised to be there for her big day, but when he hadn’t been able to make it he’d rung Delia to explain why. She’d have told Jenny about the fix he’d been in, that in those circumstances it had been impossible to make it home.

      He pulled the belated present from the boot of his car, berating himself. He should have at least rung Jenny on her birthday, but he’d been so tied up with sorting things out he hadn’t given it a thought. Delia was right in some things, Edward admitted to himself. He could be thoughtless and his work became his whole focus when he was away from home.

      Of course, that hadn’t been the case on Jenny’s birthday, but nevertheless Edward intended to make it up to her this weekend. He’d book a restaurant, they’d all go out for a slap-up meal, and then he’d give her the extra present he had tucked away in his pocket, a lovely little gold pendant she was sure to love.

      With a smile on his face in anticipation of his daughter’s welcome, he went inside, calling, ‘Where’s my girl?’

      There was no response, the house strangely silent. Puzzled, Edward looked in the drawing room but found it empty, and so he went into the kitchen. Empty again. Where was everyone?

      Having expected an excited welcome from Jenny, Edward felt a strong sense of anticlimax as he placed the parcel on the kitchen table before heading for the stairs. At the top he called, ‘Is anyone home?’

      Robin came out of his room, saying quietly, ‘Hello, Dad.’

      ‘Where is everyone?’

      ‘Mum’s gone shopping, but she should be home soon.’

      ‘What about Jenny?’

      ‘Er…you’re not going to like this, Dad, but Jenny’s gone. She left home.’

      ‘What!’ Edward thundered. ‘When?’

      ‘She left on her birthday.’

      ‘But why?’ Edward asked, but then he heard Delia coming in. ‘Oh, don’t tell me, I can guess.’ Turning away from his son, he hurried downstairs to confront his wife. ‘So you’ve done it. While I was away you got rid of Jenny.’

      ‘I…I did no such thing. She left of her own accord.’

      ‘Don’t give me that!’

      ‘It’s true, Dad,’ said Robin, who had followed Edward downstairs.

      ‘I don’t believe it!’ Edward snapped, dismissing his son as he focused on Delia. ‘Tell me where Jenny is. Whether you like it or not I’m bringing her home.’

      Delia’s face drained of colour and Robin went to her side. ‘We don’t know where Jenny is,’ he said.

      Edward’s fury mounted as he glared at Delia. ‘Jenny’s a child and you let her leave home with no idea of where she was going? Are you mad, woman?’

      ‘Stop it! Please stop shouting,’ Delia begged.

      ‘Have you told the police? Have you reported her missing?’

      ‘What would be the point of that? She’s sixteen and free to leave home if she wants to.’

      ‘She’s a child! You…you…’ he ground out, so furious that he could have throttled her. ‘I’ll never forgive you for this!’

      ‘Dad, stop it. None of this is Mummy’s fault. Jenny’s behaviour over the years had been abominable, and just lately she almost caused Mummy to have a nervous breakdown.’

      ‘Don’t talk rubbish!’

      ‘See, Robin, I told you,’ Delia cried. ‘I said your father would blame me.’

      ‘Leave this to me,’ soothed Robin. ‘Take one of your pills. I know they make you feel groggy but it’ll calm you.’

      As Robin walked towards him, Edward noticed for the first time that his son no longer looked like a boy. He looked like a young man and a determined one at that.

      ‘Dad, come on,’ he said, grasping his arm. ‘Mother really is ill and we need to talk.’

      ‘Ill my foot,’ Edward snapped, convinced that Delia was hiding behind her so-called nerves as usual. He’d get nothing out of her, but at least his son might be able to shed some light on the matter, a clue as to where Jenny had gone. If Robin could suggest somewhere, as a starting point, it would be something. He had to find Jenny. He just had to.

      

      Robin was relieved when his father agreed to accompany him to the drawing room. His mother had tried to stop Jenny from leaving – they had both tried. There had been a tug of war when he tried to grab her rucksack, but Jenny had fought like a tiger, verbally attacking both him and his mother.

      She had fled then, leaving his mother sobbing and in such a state that he’d had to call the doctor. She was now on medication, which was helping, but would it be enough to shield her from his father’s anger?

      ‘I need a drink,’ his dad said, taking a decanter and pouring a large measure of whisky.

      Robin waited until he had gulped it down, and then said, ‘There are things you should know about Jenny.’

      ‘Don’t bother. I know my daughter.’

      ‘No, Dad, you don’t. Mother told me that Jenny has made her life a misery for years, but I didn’t believe her until I saw it with my own eyes,’ Robin told him, going on to tell his father all that had happened since he was last here.

      ‘That doesn’t sound like Jenny,’ Edward said. ‘But if what you say is true, your mother must have driven her to behave like that.’

      ‘She did not!’ Robin insisted. ‘If you had been here you’d have seen that for yourself, but of course you’re always away. Not only that, if you hadn’t put your work first, you’d have been here for Jenny’s birthday and perhaps able to stop her from leaving. We certainly couldn’t.’

      ‘What are you talking about? I was driving home when my car broke down. I rang your mother to tell her why I couldn’t make