Page 110 of Lessons in Life

‘’Lo, miss,’ Sorrel said, slightly embarrassed at being in her favourite teacher’s home. Probably, like all kids, Sorrel assumed teachers actually lived in the staffroom at school.

‘I was just on the point of ringing you when you called,’ Jo said, her face alight with excitement. ‘Look at this. Found it on a Canadian website this morning once you’d left. Eloise Hudson had obviously been trying to find her lost child.’

Jo handed me a printout from a website aiming to match children adopted in Canada with their birth mother, and the four of us gathered round to read.

Birth Date: 5-5-1969

Adoptee Gender: Male

Adoptee Birth Race: White & Pakistani

Name Given to Adoptee by Birth Parents: none

Adoptee Birth Mother’s Name: Eloise Muriel Howard

Adoptee Birth Mother’s Maiden Name: Hudson

Adoptee Birth Mother’s Race: British

Adoptee Birth Father’s Name: Junayd Sattar

Adoptee Birth Father’s Race: Pakistani

Adoptee Birth Hospital: Barrett Tower

Adoption agency: ?

Age of Adoptee When Adopted: at birth

Name Given to Adoptee by Adoptive Parents: Adam

‘This doesn’t tell us anything we didn’t know,’ I said, frowning, ‘apart from the fact that Eloise herself had been trying to find her child years ago. And, that she was looking for a male child. And look, the father was from Pakistan which fits with what you said about Eloise being pregnant to Junayd Sattar, the worker at her dad’s mill. But nothing here links Mum to Eloise and Junayd.’

‘She told me she’d had a baby boy in Canada.’ Mum nodded, disappointment etched on her face. ‘That her granny had taken her there. And she knew he’d been named Adam.’

‘But, listen, listen.’ Sorrel was finding it hard to get her words out in her excitement. ‘Didn’t you hear Karen tell me she’d had a baby of her own before she adopted Mum? Thathewas called Adam. You know, when I was telling her about me being…’ Sorrel trailed off, face scarlet, obviously not wanting Jo and Janice to know about her own lost pregnancy.

The slightly tense atmosphere was broken by Mum’s phone ringing. When she didn’t answer, it rang again. And again.

‘I bet that’s Kamran, Mum,’ I said. ‘Go on, go and answer it. He’s probably up for another round of Dambusters with you.’

Once it started ringing again, Mum took herself off into the kitchen while the three of us told Jo and Janice the full details of the morning’s visit to the Foleys. Five minutes later Mum returned, her face ashen, handing the phone silently to Jess.

‘What?’ Jess said, surprised. ‘You want me to talk to Kamran? About Hudson House and this restaurant idea of his?’

‘It’s not Kamran.’

Jess took the proffered phone. ‘Hello? Oh, Wendy…? I didn’t realise you had Mum’s number… Right… Right… OK… No…! Oh, my goodness… well… of course not… no… thank you… you did right… I can’t tell you how grateful… no, of course we won’t… Karen will never know… I promise you.’

‘Bloody hell!’ A full ten minutes later, Jess finally calmed down enough to sit down. ‘Bloody hell!’ She took hold of Mum’s hand.

‘What?’ We all spoke as one.

‘It would appear Eloise Howard – Hudson – is my mother.’ Mum spoke calmly.

‘So,’ Jess interrupted, ‘this is the story, according to Wendy. After we left, Wendy went into Adrian’s room. Apparently, she in particular, and to some extent the carers who go in daily, are able to communicate with him – although he and Karen haven’t spoken for years. After we’d gone, Adrian was in a state, wanting to know who’d been visiting, what was going on. When Wendy told him why Mum had been back after thirty-odd years, he broke down and it all came out.’

‘What did? What came out?’ We all leaned forwards eagerly.

---