Secrets by Jennie Hart ... HTW on the theme of love

When Lena met Rob, she was charmed. He was extremely attractive and such good fun to be with. She captivated Rob with her quirky dress sense and easy going ways. They both enjoyed dancing, drank skinny lattes, ate hot curries with lager and relaxed with a glass of red Shiraz. There was one vital difference; Lena had a close family but Rob had none. In some ways this strengthened their relationship because Lena could see a space in Rob’s life for her.

Lena was a nurse at the local Bridges hospital when Rob arrived as a newly appointed registrar. After a frenzied few months of dating, Lena moved in with Rob and they began their life together. A year later, they decided to marry and Rob at last gained a family, even if it was actually Lena’s.

Rob was an art lover and had interesting paintings on every wall of their Victorian cottage. Lena’s pastime was browsing in charity shops to seek out curios and frivolous bits of clothing. Her creative style complemented Rob’s artistic one and their home developed its own character. Rob also owned one or two sculptures, nothing of value but, as Rob said: ‘One day….? You never know’. His most treasured possession was a huge art -deco urn which had a place of honour in a corner of their bedroom. Lena was fond of it too when it wasn’t adorned with Rob’s base ball caps which he absent mindedly hung on the two ornamental arms.

One evening, when Rob was working a late duty, Lena decided on an early night. After an exhausting shift, and feeling especially tired, it was impossible not to focus on the monster vase. It was clear to Lena it was in the wrong place and that the corner by the window would be more suitable. She started with difficulty to shift the object across the floor and that was when she found the package. A rustling noise came from inside the vessel and when Lena delved deep, she found with surprise, a large brown envelope. She left the urn mid-floor, got back under the duvet and carefully drew out the contents. There were some photographs, discoloured but not damaged and two folded letters which she opened and read:

18 May 1980. To the family who are fostering my baby,

Thank you for your act of kindness. He’s a quiet child and doesn’t make a fuss. He is only a few days old and it is very painful to let him go, but I have no choice. His name is Robert.

You will not hear from me again.

Yours gratefully,

Myra Slater

The photos were of a pretty girl with curly hair and large blue eyes like Rob’s. Another was a small boy in sandals and shorts and a third of the same boy, older now in tee-shirt and trainers and with a keen resemblance to Rob. A final photo showed a man and woman with a young girl between them. The second letter was stamped with a logo which Mary was startled to see was from:

Her Majesty’s Prison,

Kingston upon Hull,

North Humberside.

28 November 1995

Dear Mr and Mrs McGregor,

I have learnt that you are the family who have been fostering my son Robert for the last fifteen years. I said I would never contact Robert’s foster family again, but I have been serving a prison sentence and am due to be released in three months. I earnestly request that I can come and meet him. It would mean so much to me.

Please reply to the forwarding address,

Yours faithfully,

Myra Slater

Lena was intrigued. This was Rob’s history and a different story to what he had told her. He had told her his mother had died when he was born. Lena knew he had been raised by foster parents and when he was five, he had said, his foster mother gave birth to a daughter Clara. She was loved and cared for whilst Rob was treated like a lodger. It was the Harry Potter scenario. Rob was sent to boarding school where he got support from most of the staff, but little from his foster family. He had worked hard to become a doctor but after medical school, lost touch with them. He had no relations from his birth family that he knew of.

The bedroom door opened and Rob walked in before Lena could return the evidence to its hiding place. Rob’s face paled as she confronted him with the letters.

‘What is all this about Rob?  Why did you keep all this from me? I want to know everything. The baby is you isn’t it?’

Rob sat on the edge of the bed, head down. He put his arms round her and held her close for a few moments, then took a deep breath and began:

‘I didn’t want to tell you anything until I had all the facts, but I know the story now so I’ll try to explain. I honestly planned to tell you soon, I was waiting for the right time.

Myra Slater was my mother. She didn’t die when I was born. She went to prison. I know now that she died there of cancer only a few weeks before her release was due. Robert picked up the photos. ‘The girl with the large eyes is my mother Myra but I never met her. The couple with the little girl are my foster parents and their daughter Clara. The boy is me in both photos.’

‘Clara, grown up now, found out where I was working and brought this package of stuff.  We had never been in touch, but she knew I was a doctor and it was easy for her to track me down. She knew nothing of my birth family until her parents, my foster parents died and the letters came to light. Clara also bought old newspaper cuttings from the time my mother went to prison. I keep them in my wallet. They mentioned mum’s younger brother, so I knew I had relatives somewhere.

 ‘But that doesn’t explain why you hid this from me,’ Lena said. ‘Why did you”

Now Rob became distraught. ‘The fact is’, he said, ‘I should never have married you, but I couldn’t let you go, you were part of my life by then. I didn’t meet you by chance, I had a reason for getting to know you. I discovered you worked at The Bridges Hospital and applied for a transfer when a post became available.’

‘You see, my mother went to prison because she murdered her father, my grandad. He was an unpleasant man and abused her when she was growing up. Mum became pregnant by him and I was born. She was only eighteen but was sent to prison because no evidence was provided in court that she had been abused. You see, she had other boyfriends and was actually quite promiscuous according to the angle taken by the newspapers at the time. You know how they sensationalise. Juries then were not as sympathetic to the victims as they are today. It was nearly forty years ago.’

‘But what has all this got to do with me? Why did you need to get to know me?’ asked Lena,  struggling to understand

‘Because’, Rob’s shoulders tightened and he sighed, ‘My mother and your father were brother and sister. I found out your father had a daughter called Lena who was a nurse, I tracked you down at the Bridges hospital and applied for the transfer so I could meet you. You see, I had no family of my own.

‘This can’t be true,’ said Lena, ‘My father would never have hidden such a scandal from the family, and in any case, I know for a fact my grandad on my dad’s side died of a heart attack only a few years ago. He certainly wasn’t murdered’

‘Well, this is where the story becomes complicated’, said Rob. ‘Our grandma was married twice but never spoke about her first marriage. When her first husband was murdered and her daughter, my mother, went to prison, it disturbed her mentally and she shut it all out. She didn’t even visit my mother. She refused to believe her husband could have done such things. And of course, your father was only very young when his older sister went to prison. The murder was all hushed up and never talked about, so I suspect he knew very little. He was probably told his elder sister had left home.”

‘That’s true” said Lena. ‘He often told me of a sister he only vaguely remembered. He said she emigrated and never kept in touch. 

 ‘Yes that’s how it was, said Rob. ‘Our grandma then met the granddad you knew, and he became her second husband, the only grandfather you have ever known.’

This time Rob broke down. ‘You can see why I didn’t tell you any of this. We are blood relations; we are cousins and should never have married. I never expected to become fond of you, and when you felt the same about me, I let my heart rule my head. I didn’t want to lose you. I am so very sorry’

Rob looked up from the photo of his mother he held, and gently cupped Lena’s face in his hands. ‘This breaks my heart,’ he whispered. He moved his head slightly back to look at her. What was that soft smile on her lips? He had expected anger and tears.

‘What is it?’ he said, ‘Why are you smiling? You are a surprising person. Do you understand what I have just told you? We are cousins. We can’t have children. We are probably not officially allowed to be married.’

She began to laugh. ‘Because Rob,’ I have a secret too. My parents couldn’t have children so they adopted me. I have always known about my adoption, but it’s been a family secret and there seemed no reason to tell. I did plan to tell you very soon.’

Rob listened unbelievingly, then his astonishment melted into comprehension and he too began to laugh. ‘How amazing! All these agonising months I have spent. We are not blood cousins! We are Mr and Mrs Normal!’

‘It seems we are! And by coincidence, we have something else to celebrate; I am pregnant!’