Jenny twisted the crumpled letter in her hands, her heart pounding. A DNA test order for Julie. Why? Who needed this? Had Julies parents finally been found? Then why hadnt they come themselves, why no word? So many questions, no answers.
“Mum, whats wrong?” Julie touched her shoulder. “Ive been calling youyoure miles away.”
“Just thinking.”
“Whos the letter from?”
“Oh, nothing important,” Jenny muttered, stuffing it into her apron pocket.
“I picked a whole bucket of blackberries. Theyre so sweet. I filled the water tank tooIll do the garden later. Do you need anything else? The girls and I are going to the river. Its boiling out.”
Her mind elsewhere, Jenny barely heard her. “Go on, just be careful.”
Julie snatched a couple of warm pastries, grabbed a towel, and dashed off.
Jenny needed to breathe. She stepped outside, sinking onto the front step. *What do I do? Tomorrows Julies birthday. What a gift this is. No wonder I havent slept all week.*
A sleek car rolled slowly up the lane, stopping at the gate. An elegant older woman stepped out.
“Hello. Im looking for Jenny Nicholson.”
Jennys chest tightened. The letterthis womanthey had to be connected.
“Thats me.”
“May we talk? My name is Margaret Whitmore.”
“Oh! Of coursecome inside,” Jenny stammered, flustered.
The woman signalled to the driver, who retrieved a large bag from the boot. Jenny watched, dread coiling in her stomach.
“James, youre free until” Margaret checked her expensive watch, “three. Ill call if I need you sooner.”
“Why dont you go down to the river?” Jenny blurted. “Just follow the pathits lovely there. Ill lend you a towel.” She pointed vaguely. “And park under the birch treesno sense leaving the car in the sun.”
Margaret waited until the driver left before asking, “May I sit?”
“Please,” Jenny said, brushing invisible crumbs from the table. “Ill put the kettle on. Do you like blackcurrant tea?”
As the kettle hissed to life, Jenny turnedand froze. Margaret was staring at the large framed photo of Julie on the wall. Tears welled in the womans eyes.
“Thats Emily. Ive found her.”
Jennys legs buckled. The room spun. She gripped the chair to stay upright.
“Thats *Julie*! Do you hear me? Julie!” Jenny slammed her hands on the table, burying her face in them as sobs wracked her body.
Margaret rushed over, rubbing her back. “Im not here to take her. I just want to be part of her life. Please, calm down.” She pulled Jenny into an embrace. “We need to talk properly.”
Sitting across from her, Margaret took Jennys shaking hands. “Tell me how she came to you. I know bits, but not everything.”
Jenny met her gazethose eyes, vast and sorrowful.
“I found her at the edge of the woods when I was looking for our cow,” Jenny whispered. “Twelve years ago tomorrow. We celebrate her birthday on the day I found her. She was soaked, filthy, asleep in a ditch clutching this filthy teddy bear. At first I thought it was just rubbishI didnt even realise it was a child.”
She twisted a strand of hair around her finger.
“She couldnt stand, couldnt even cry, she was so weak. I carried her home. Fed her. She slept for hours.”
A tremor ran through her at the memory.
“I sent the neighbours boy for the nurse and the parish councilto call the police. The nurse came, tried to examine her, but Julie clung to me like a limpet. Fingers white, wouldnt let go. The nurse said she was about two, healthy but starved nearly to death.”
The kettle whistled softly, but neither woman noticed.
“The constable came, took notes, said no missing children had been reported nearby. Promised to follow up. Neighbours brought clothes, toys. But she wouldnt let go of that bear. I washed them together.”
Jenny fell silent, lost in the past. Margaret waited.
“For three days she wouldnt leave my arms. Always hungry. The nurse said small meals, often. For a year after, she hid bread crusts everywhere. I named her Julie because I found her in July. She learned to walk, then run. Id never been so happywatching her grow strong. She slept with me, screamed in her sleep. Nightmares, I suppose. Didnt speak at first.”
Jenny took a shuddering breath.
“A month later, the social worker came to take her. By then she was calling me Mum. They couldnt pry her away. Left with nothing but a summons for me to bring her in. Thank God they didnt set a deadline. I couldnt bear the thought of her in careId been there. I knew exactly how cruel it could be.”
Margaret stroked her hand gently. She wanted to ask something but hesitated.
“I tried to adopt her, but they said nosingle woman. In desperation, I begged a local lad: Marry me. Just for the paperwork. Made him sign a statement that hed never claim rights. Next thing I knew, I had a husband *and* a daughter.” A faint smile. “Life had other plans. Were still together. Happy.”
Maybe it was Margarets kindness, or the way she listenedreally *listened*but Jenny finally relaxed.
“You had a question?”
“Yes, dear. You mentioned the care systemhow did you end up there?”
“My parents died on an expedition. Volcanologists.” Jenny moved to take the kettle off, then stopped. “I was eight. Visiting my gran in the village that summer. They wouldnt let Gran take custodyhealth issues. No relatives qualified. Too poor, bad housing. Or maybe someone was covering their tracks. Our London flat was sold the day before they died. Their friends tried to investigate, but…”
Margaret studied her. *Good heart. I was right about her.*
“So they sent me to a home far from the city but near Gran. I kept running away to her. They threatened to send me to a psych ward. Then the headmasterMr. Thompsonarranged for me to live with Gran while technically in care. Three years later, London approved Grans custody. I owe him everything. He helped with Julie too.”
Jenny shook herself. “Oh! I promised you tea” She hurried to set the table. “Ive got fresh scones, baked this morning.”
“I brought treats too.” Margaret unpacked elegant boxes. “Chocolates, biscuits, fruit.”
“Weve plenty. Butwho *are* you to Julie?”
“Her grandmother.”
Jenny sat down hard. “You said you wouldnt take her.”
“Darling, I wont. Shes been through enough. Ive had time to think.” Margaret reached for her pills. “Water, please?”
Jenny handed her a glass. “Are you ill?”
“Yes. Worse than Id like.” She swallowed the tablet. “Youre wondering how I found you. A private investigator. All roads led here. He dug up your story too. And now, after meeting youIm certain. Emily stays with you.”
Jenny pulled out the letter, laying it between them.
“Im sorry. It mustve frightened you.” Margaret opened her bag again. “Herephotos of my son, and Emily. No DNA test needed. But legally, we must. Shes his heir.”
Jenny stared at the pictures. It was Juliejust younger.
“How do we tell her?”
“Guests? Hello!” Julie bounded in, grinning. “Whats this big secret? And whys the kettle screaming?”
The women jumped. Margaret paled, clutching her chest.
“Julie, this is your grandmother,” Jenny blurted.
Julie stiffened, eyeing the stranger. Then
“Grandma? *Grandma!*” She threw herself at Margaret. “I *knew* youd find me! You gave me Teddy!”
The three of them clung together, weeping. So much still to unravel. But one thing was clearMargaret had found more than a granddaughter.
And the kettle kept whistling.
