seems bonkers,’ I said.
‘They were Victorians, respectability was everything. Marriage for a girl was the tops. It wouldn’t have been possible for Cameo with an illegitimate child. It wouldn’t have been accepted. It’s ironic that they went to all that trouble, when Cameo—’ She stopped for an involuntary moment.
‘When Cameo?’
‘When Cameo didn’t make it,’ she said, almost too choked to speak.
She was trying to put all her pieces together just as much as I was. I had the feeling I should not ask further about Cameo just then.
‘But the worst of it is Buddleia didn’t believe that I didn’t know Cameo’s secret,’ she said, ‘and some of her last words to me were unkind …’
‘At least you have some last words,’ I said. ‘I have nothing.’
‘Actually . . . you do have something.’ And then she opened out a piece of paper. I froze in horror to think she’d been withholding it. ‘Buddleia sent me this .’
‘Oh God,’ I said. I sat up in bed, my limbs without oomph, and read the letter in hunger, searching the next line for clues before I’d finished the one I was on.
June 12 1986
Dear Coral,
I just wanted to let you know where I have got to with things, which isn’t terribly far. The record books at St Catherine’s House are lodged in colour-coded sections within the building. Green for marriages, red for births and black for deaths. I have only found two Major Jack Laines, but one of them is deceased, and the other one is classified as ‘an idiot’. However there may be hundreds of other Major Laines out there who are still alive and unmarried, and who obviously weren’t born majors.
And so I am none the wiser as to who I am. The only one, it seems.
Buddleia
‘But this doesn’t tell us anything. This is a scrap of research about her real Dad. It isn’t a farewell, or an explanation of why she did what she did.’
‘But I think it is,’ said Aunt Coral. Her eyes were welling with the small filmy tears of a lady, though she fought them back.
‘Just imagine finding that your whole childhood has been a lie, that no one was who they said they were. Finding out your father is not your father, and that your real father, who you never knew, may be deceased or an idiot. I think it may be what drove her over the edge. And she died thinking that I knew the truth and didn’t tell her. But I didn’t know. It so presses on me.’
‘I understand, it’s called unfinished business,’ I said.
Then the pressure of holding in her emotions overcame her and she had to let go of her real tears, not her socially comfortable tears, but big painful tears that weren’t manageable. I had never till today seen Aunt Coral in such great distress.
‘I don’t understand why they kept it from me,’ she said, ‘but I suppose there comes a time with such secrets when it’s too late to tell the truth.’
‘So Major Laine, wherever he is, he’s my …’
‘He’s your Grandfather,’ said Aunt Coral.
‘But do you think he knew he was Mum’s Father?’ I said. ‘Do you think there’s a chance that he didn’t? Is there a law that says that fathers must be told?’
‘They’re all good questions, Sue, and the answer is I don’t know, but I rather assume he did know if Cameo named him so on the birth certificate. It was too late to retrieve anything else from the fire, otherwise there may have been correspondence in there that could have told us. Anyway, the upshot is, I have taken up the cudgels, and short of tracing every Laine in the country and asking if they’re a Major, I have started to comb through the phone books. There’s a Jeremy Laine on the borders, he’s a TV producer I think, and a Dave Laine out at Buswater. But I feel they are coincidental, so I’m going to place an ad in the Echo and see if that prompts someone to get in touch.’
‘I still don’t understand why Grampa Evelyn kept the certificate if he wanted it to be secret?’
‘Probably just in
‘They were Victorians, respectability was everything. Marriage for a girl was the tops. It wouldn’t have been possible for Cameo with an illegitimate child. It wouldn’t have been accepted. It’s ironic that they went to all that trouble, when Cameo—’ She stopped for an involuntary moment.
‘When Cameo?’
‘When Cameo didn’t make it,’ she said, almost too choked to speak.
She was trying to put all her pieces together just as much as I was. I had the feeling I should not ask further about Cameo just then.
‘But the worst of it is Buddleia didn’t believe that I didn’t know Cameo’s secret,’ she said, ‘and some of her last words to me were unkind …’
‘At least you have some last words,’ I said. ‘I have nothing.’
‘Actually . . . you do have something.’ And then she opened out a piece of paper. I froze in horror to think she’d been withholding it. ‘Buddleia sent me this .’
‘Oh God,’ I said. I sat up in bed, my limbs without oomph, and read the letter in hunger, searching the next line for clues before I’d finished the one I was on.
June 12 1986
Dear Coral,
I just wanted to let you know where I have got to with things, which isn’t terribly far. The record books at St Catherine’s House are lodged in colour-coded sections within the building. Green for marriages, red for births and black for deaths. I have only found two Major Jack Laines, but one of them is deceased, and the other one is classified as ‘an idiot’. However there may be hundreds of other Major Laines out there who are still alive and unmarried, and who obviously weren’t born majors.
And so I am none the wiser as to who I am. The only one, it seems.
Buddleia
‘But this doesn’t tell us anything. This is a scrap of research about her real Dad. It isn’t a farewell, or an explanation of why she did what she did.’
‘But I think it is,’ said Aunt Coral. Her eyes were welling with the small filmy tears of a lady, though she fought them back.
‘Just imagine finding that your whole childhood has been a lie, that no one was who they said they were. Finding out your father is not your father, and that your real father, who you never knew, may be deceased or an idiot. I think it may be what drove her over the edge. And she died thinking that I knew the truth and didn’t tell her. But I didn’t know. It so presses on me.’
‘I understand, it’s called unfinished business,’ I said.
Then the pressure of holding in her emotions overcame her and she had to let go of her real tears, not her socially comfortable tears, but big painful tears that weren’t manageable. I had never till today seen Aunt Coral in such great distress.
‘I don’t understand why they kept it from me,’ she said, ‘but I suppose there comes a time with such secrets when it’s too late to tell the truth.’
‘So Major Laine, wherever he is, he’s my …’
‘He’s your Grandfather,’ said Aunt Coral.
‘But do you think he knew he was Mum’s Father?’ I said. ‘Do you think there’s a chance that he didn’t? Is there a law that says that fathers must be told?’
‘They’re all good questions, Sue, and the answer is I don’t know, but I rather assume he did know if Cameo named him so on the birth certificate. It was too late to retrieve anything else from the fire, otherwise there may have been correspondence in there that could have told us. Anyway, the upshot is, I have taken up the cudgels, and short of tracing every Laine in the country and asking if they’re a Major, I have started to comb through the phone books. There’s a Jeremy Laine on the borders, he’s a TV producer I think, and a Dave Laine out at Buswater. But I feel they are coincidental, so I’m going to place an ad in the Echo and see if that prompts someone to get in touch.’
‘I still don’t understand why Grampa Evelyn kept the certificate if he wanted it to be secret?’
‘Probably just in
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