Tom smiled. “Goody.”
Maddie wolfed down the sausage.
As I washed up I thought about the new case. Mrs Pickering was dying and facing death might soften her attitude to her long-lost daughter. It was possible that Roger was exaggerating the animosity, though he said she’d bitten his head off then wept when he’d raised the question a year ago. Would Mrs Pickering be as unapproachable a year on?
I wondered whether she had ever heard from Jennifer; letters that she tucked away or tore up? Would she have shown them to her husband? If he was so strict perhaps she’d kept them from him. She had called Jennifer a disgrace. I tried to imagine feeling that way about Maddie. Not wanting to speak her name, ignoring her existence. I could picture myself being hurt or angry at things she might do but I couldn’t envisage a situation where I’d turn my back on her. No matter what she’d done.
It could have worked the other way; and been Jennifer who had severed the tie. Hurt by their lack of support she may have decided to cut them off. Deny them the chance to relent or make amends. Had she been pregnant? If that had been the case wouldn’t the Pickerings have wanted to see their only grandchild, once they’d got used to the idea? Or would their church regard the baby as unwelcome evidence of sinful behaviour? A burden of shame not a bundle of joy. Were they that harsh? By the seventies public attitudes to illegitimacy had relaxed a lot, but the church and its members may well have opposed such changes and clung doggedly to maintaining their own high standards in the face of moral decline and corruption.
I had a rush of memory. I had announced my pregnancy at the tax office where I was working. I was happy about it even though the pregnancy was unplanned. I joked about the struggle ahead being a single parent (oh, how little did I know) and accepted people’s congratulations.
One young woman, a fundamental Christian, cornered me later. “Sal, have you really thought about what you’re doing?”
I was too shocked at her audacity to stop her before she launched into a speech about children needing fathers, and how there were places that could support someone in my position until I had the baby. When she got to the part about how many couples desperately wanted a baby and couldn’t have one, I turned on my heels and walked away. I was shaking and horrified to find myself so upset. I blamed it on my hormones. I was also angry that I hadn’t challenged her opinions on the spot and my mind went round and round working out succinct arguments and powerful statements that I should have flung back at her.
