Chapter 13

Sybil's First Letter to Flora

Hello, my dear Flora.

Let me introduce myself. I am your Great, Great Aunt Sybil - your real aunt. My younger brother died many years ago. His son who died in a plane crash, was your grandfather.

I expect, unless you have found out the truth before, which I very much doubt, that you will be feeling shocked, confused, and rather angry. Bear with me.

When your grandfather was killed, your grandmother lasted two months before she left all her worldly possessions with me and disappeared forever to ‘find herself'. Nothing has been heard of her since. Two of the worldly possessions she left behind with me were her 10-year-old daughter and her 6-month-old baby girl.

I was 63 years old and had never married, therefore had no experience with children. Being left alone to bring up two young girls was an enormous task. In the event, Matilda, the older sister, was a good-mannered, pleasant child, much like her father. We got on well and she helped me to look after Jennet, her younger sister. How I'd have managed without her, I just don't know.

Jennet, on the other hand, was an awkward child. Quick to anger. Matty was the only one who could handle her. I realised it wasn't Jennet's fault and tried to make up for the loss of her father and mother but well, even now in my 96th year, we hardly speak. I blame myself entirely. Actually, I blame her mother but we won't go into that.

We lived in Gallipot Cottage, the family home and my home now, as my nephew had lived in a larger house nearby with his family. Matty loved my cottage. Jennet hated it.

As Matty grew up, she started going out with a local lad. They had been together for two years and had talked about getting married. When she found herself pregnant with you, the wedding was postponed until a later date, Matty liked the idea of you attending as a tiny bridesmaid.

Jennet wasn't happy about a baby taking Matty's attention away from her so she behaved appallingly for a while, even running away from home (taking after her mother) and being brought back by the local postman after we had searched for a full afternoon. She had been hiding in the post office garden shed. Jennet scared herself, I think, as she started to cling to Matty again from then on.

Flora, you will probably be upset about Matilda, your real mother, when you read the next part - and will probably hate me. I hope that you will understand. From what I know of you, I'm sure you will.

Matilda's pregnancy hadn't been straightforward. We knew there were a few problems and I was keeping an eye on her. I trained as a midwife in my young days before I opened the shop but many of the locals called on me if there was anything they needed to know. I successfully delivered many babies in this village. They trusted me and used to send for ‘the midwife' as though there was only one.

I have to say here that if there was any risk of complications, I told them beforehand that they must book in at the hospital. Mattie wanted me to deliver her baby, however, in her case I felt she was better off at the hospital and she was booked in there for the birth.

Unfortunately, Matty began to bleed while taking a walk on the moor just behind Pookey Wood. Our wood. Jennet came flying down to fetch me screaming my name. When I reached Matty she had started to give birth - just over a month early. She was in a bad way.

I sent Jennet back to a friend of mine, a Sister at the hospital, who lived in the village. She also had midwife training. I told Jennet to tell Hester to phone for an ambulance and then for her to stay in the house after showing them where we were.

I delivered the baby - you - and you were a tiny little thing. I wasn't sure you would survive. Hester wrapped you up in her coat. It was obvious to us both that Matty was dying. It is a sudden thing that only very rarely happens in pregnancy and believe me when I say nothing could have prevented it.

Your mother held you in her arms, touched her lips to your head and smiled. She whispered ‘Her name is Flora', before she died. I am so sorry Flora. All this must be such a shock for you. What comes next may shock you even more.

I had to calm a distraught Jennet down and then go to the hospital to give details of Matty's death, leaving some details out…. Margaret - Peggy - stayed with her but the incident had left its mark on the child, as it had with all of us. Hester had taken you home a few doors down. She knew how to look after you. Her training was more modern and if anyone could save you, it was her. What I haven't told you is that I had spent the evening, two nights previously, consoling Hester over yet another miscarriage. She was in her forties then and had suffered many miscarriages throughout her life. Her body was tired now and although she desperately wanted a child, she realised that had been her last chance.

We buried your mother's ashes in the wood with a tiny lock of your hair to take with her on her journey. We had taken the chain from her with the ‘tree of life' pendant on it, to give to you later in memory of your mother. After a few days, it was obvious that you would live. Hester and Bill took you to her sister for a couple of weeks to avoid questions at the time. People naturally believed the baby had died along with Matty and, for good or bad, we didn't put them right.

Forgive me Flora because at the time, this next action seemed the best thing for you. I still believe that with all my heart.

I went to visit Hester and she asked if she could bring you up as her own child. In the past before the stringent adoption processes of today, this sort of thing was common in close-knit villages. Families took on the babies and children of their friends and other family if they had died or couldn't cope. Now of course it was technically illegal - but also morally right.

I was then 72 years old and had a 9-year-old child to bring up. One that was not only resentful of me but of the baby that she believed had taken her sister away from her. I couldn't cope with a new baby too.

The adoption process would have meant that you would have been in care for quite a while until either adoptive or foster parents were found for you, missing out on the loving care you needed in those early days and which I knew Hester would provide you with. It was helping you and her at the same time.

We agreed that they would move away from the village straight away, to the town where you were brought up and where they had taken you after your birth. As hard as this may seem – they asked me to cease all contact as they were worried I may want you back at some time. I promised her this and a Gardwicke promise made is a promise kept.

I made her promise too. One- that I would leave Gallipot cottage to you when I died. It would have gone to Matty and was yours by rights. Jennet hated the place anyway and wouldn't want it. They could tell you I was a distant great aunt who had no one else to leave it to, as I probably would predecease them.

The second thing was that they had to call you Flora. My promise to Matty. Thirdly, I wanted a phone call every few years to let me know you were well. So there you have it

I have no reason to think this, but I believe you will be taking the news more calmly than most people would. The calmness and the gentleness of your mother perhaps. Please know that you were loved by your real mother and by me, who thought about you every day. But mostly, you were loved so much by Hester and Bill Goode, who may not have been your blood parents but in every other way were your mother and father.

You have an aunt still living in the village, perhaps two because we haven't mentioned your father, have we?

He loved Matty to distraction and when he found out that she had died, he was inconsolable. He flew out of the country the morning after her death and stayed away for many years. His sister didn't know if he was alive or dead for at least three years afterwards. Why didn't he look after you? His sister said he believed you had died along with Matty and as she wasn't sure what had happened at the time, she couldn't put him right.

Which worked out for the best. He couldn't have looked after you. He was out of his mind with grief and, like Jennet, even if it was only at the back of his mind, he might have blamed your birth for her death. I can't say this enough Flora – it was NOT your fault!

He hadn't even felt able to face the burial service. Instead, he buried himself in his work abroad to forget her. I don't know if it worked - but he never married. I am not telling you his name. If you want to find him, you will.

There is more to tell you …but I think you will have more than enough to think about for a while. The next letter is on a different subject and may raise more questions than it answers. Whenever you feel you are ready, the letter is with Margaret Harker.

All my love, dearest Flora

Sybil xxx