Page 40 of The Forsaken
“Dr. Allenby, this the Reverend Alan Seaton. He’s just written a best-selling book about the life of Richard III, and given all the recent interest in Richard, the BBC has invited him to do an interview and an overview of his work. The reverend was there when they unearthed Richard’s remains. Isn’t that so, Reverend?” Rhys asked, inviting the man to enter the conversation. “And he’s campaigning to have Richard interred at Leicester Cathedral.”
Quinn suddenly felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. She knew the name sounded familiar but hadn’t made the connection until Rhys mentioned Leicester Cathedral.
“Reverend Alan Seaton?” she gasped, looking at the man closely. “Are you the same Reverend Alan Seaton who found an infant in September of 1983?”
“Yes, I am,” the reverend replied shyly. “I’m amazed that you’d remember that story. You must have been an infant yourself at that time. I always did wonder what happened to those girls,” he said, shaking his head.
“Sorry, how do you mean?” Quinn asked. Her knees suddenly felt like jelly and her stomach felt hollow and jittery.
“Quinn, you’re white as a sheet. You’d better sit down,” Rhys said. “Reverend, Dr. Allenby is the baby you found that day.”
“You said ‘those girls,’ Reverend,” Quinn breathed as she stumbled to the sofa and sat down hard. Her mouth had gone dry, and she suddenly wished she’d accepted the offer of a glass of water.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, my dear. I didn’t mean to distress you. Yes, there were two babies. I assumed you knew.”
Quinn shook her head. “But that’s impossible. I saw the news article. My parents showed it to me. It said ‘infant’, not ‘infants.’”
“Denise, get Dr. Allenby some water,” Rhys barked. His PA sprang to her feet and ran to the water fountain in the corridor.
I must look as awful as I feel, Quinn thought hysterically.
“Perhaps we’d better continue this in my office,” Rhys said as he accepted a cup of water from Denise. “Come, Quinn.” Rhys gave Quinn a hand up and steered her into his office, where he installed her in a comfortable chair and handed her the water before shutting the door on Denise’s curious stare. The reverend took the other guest chair, while Rhys sat behind his desk.
“I’m so sorry,” Reverend Seaton said again. “Are you all right, Dr. Allenby?”
Quinn nodded, too stunned to speak. She took several sips of water, but her mouth was still dry and her heart rate had accelerated, leaving her breathless. “Please, tell me what happened. From the beginning.”
The reverend nodded and began. “It was a weekday in late September. It was still fairly early in the morning, so the cathedral was empty. We’d just opened, you see,” he explained. “I was in the vestry, having a cup of tea and preparing for the morning service, when I thought I heard something odd. A mewling, you might callit. I stepped out and saw a bundle in the front pew. At first, I thought someone had forgotten their jumper, but then I heard the whimpering and knew it wasn’t a jumper at all. The baby got tired of fussing and let out a howl, the likes of which I’ll never forget.” He smiled at the memory. “You had some lungs on you, young lady.”
“But I was there alone,” Quinn clarified. “You said bundle, not bundles.”
“You were alone. I picked you up and looked around, assuming the mother was nearby or maybe went to the ladies’ room and thought it safe to leave you lying around. There was no one there. You quieted down and were studying me with as much interest as I was studying you. I’d baptized quite a few babies, so I could tell you were a newborn, and then I saw the note inside your blanket and realized that you’d been abandoned. I took you into the vestry and called the police. They arrived quickly and brought a case worker with them. She took possession of you right away.”
“What did she do?” Quinn asked, fascinated. She had never heard this part of the story.
“She was well prepared. She had clean nappies, a blanket, in case one was needed, and several bottles of baby formula. She changed you and fed you in the vestry while the officers searched for the mother. It was then that she told me she’d just come from the Leicester Royal Infirmary. A baby had been left in the waiting area of the Children’s Emergency Department. The baby was wrapped in a blanket and had a note tucked inside.”
“What did it say?” Quinn whispered.
“Quentin, born September twenty-seventh, 1983.”
Quinn’s hand flew to her mouth. “But why? Why was she left at the hospital?”
“The baby had difficulty breathing and had a bluish color about her when she was discovered by hospital staff. She was born with a heart murmur. The case worker assured me the child wouldrecover fully after surgery. Once it was well enough to leave the hospital, it would be put up for adoption, if the mother didn’t come to claim it. She did study the note carefully and was certain that the handwriting was the same.”
“What happened to her?” Quinn cried. “Why did no one ever tell me I had a sister?”
“I can only assume your adoptive parents never knew. Clearly, you two were treated as separate cases. I don’t know if any tests were ever performed to determine if you were indeed twins, but I’d say that the answer is obvious.”
“Not to me,” Quinn replied, shaken. “I found my birth mother less than a year ago. Quite by chance. We talked at length of the events that led to my birth and abandonment, but she never once mentioned a second baby. She wouldn’t withhold something like that from me, would she?” Quinn asked, turning to Rhys, who looked as shocked as she felt. “Rhys, would Sylvia really not tell me?”
Rhys shook his head. “I don’t know, Quinn. I’d like to say that Sylvia would never do such a thing, but I’m finding that I don’t know her nearly as well as I thought I did. I’ve caught her in several lies as well, as of late.”
“Really?” Quinn breathed.
Rhys nodded. “I’d rather not go into details.”
“I understand.” She turned to Reverend Seaton. “Reverend, did you ever follow up on what happened to us?”
