Three Round Towers (24 page)

Wilf and I planned to marry on Midsummer's Day and fears about my parentage were of increasing concern to me. It was springtime and the last few weeks had been fairly dry: good travelling weather. I told everyone that I wanted to return to the village where my ma and pa had lived in order to see that a stone be set on their grave. I had saved some money to pay for this acknowledgment of their, and my brother's existence. I asked Billy-alone to accompany me as he was the only person available for the length of time we would be away. This was a good thing – I didn't want Wilf to know about the real reason for my journey.

Mrs Jenkins was going to look after Beth, as Cecilia would find it difficult to manage two young children. She would be helped by Mrs Makepiece and Beth's grandfather. Billy-alone was released from looking after Sally's new litter of piggies, provided he hurried back as soon as our mission was accomplished. Everyone seemed to be looking forward to our journey except me.

We set off, Billy, Flossy and me on a bright spring morning. The sun was just warming the ground but the air was still cool. It was a perfect day for travelling; Farmer Elwood had written us directions to Kent and then to the village of Tenterden where I used to live. We made good progress on the first day and arrived at a coaching inn where we would spend the night before entering Tenterden towards the end of the next day.

I remember Tenterden well but cannot remember leaving after my parents' deaths. We both walked alongside Flossy as we made our way up the wide main street with its pretty cottages. Before I sought the place where we had lived we booked ourselves into the Star. Billy was to stay with Flossy in the stable and I took a room for myself.

I decided it was time to tell Billy my real reason for being in Tenterden. He just nodded and said he thought there was more to it than buying a headstone as I could have done that by post. Once I started on my admission I couldn't stop and poured out my worries that I might be the product of an unnatural union between father and daughter. He didn't try to reassure me but said that it was likely Aunt Tilly was just spitting venom out of spite. I told him that I couldn't marry Wilf if it was likely true. He was shocked by that and said he thought Wilf would have something to say about it. I swore him to secrecy before we set off to find my old home. We left our belongings and Flossy at the inn.

The house where we had lived was not much different to how I remembered it but the outside looked shabby and the garden was overrun with weeds. I had asked at the inn and the wife of the publican told me that the pharmacist had moved away to spend his retirement with his daughter in Pluckley, another Kent village. She told me, however, that the vicar was still the incumbent in the church and would likely be able to help me regarding parish records. I had told her that I simply needed to confirm my date of birth for a legal document. I needn't have told her anything at all but once I had opened my heart to Billy I seemed unable to stop talking.

Billy-alone and I approached the church, me with trepidation in my heart, and he as chirpy as ever.

‘Don't let me talk too much Billy, I must keep things to myself.'

‘Aye, lass I'll look after thee. Come on.'

The building was ancient but not imposing. I did not remember being in there before, which did not bode well for my enquiries, perhaps we were not registered. A sexton was cleaning some brass tablets in the wall and as I approached him I felt my resolve weaken but it was too late he had seen me and put down his rags and polish.

‘Can I help thee?'

‘Aye,' I said, my voice rising to a squeak. ‘I wonder if I might see your parish records. I am looking for the date of my parents' marriage: they used to live in this parish.'

He looked closely at me before asking my name.

‘Coad, their names were Benjamin and Sarah Coad.'

Billy chirped in, ‘And your brother's birth date, Esther, you wanted to know that too – as well as your own.'

‘Aye, that's right. I need to know all the dates for my family – they died here, of the great sickness.'

Thankfully, he didn't seem curious as to why I needed all these dates and it was a good idea of Billy's to bring my brother into the enquiry to detract from me and my nerves.

The sexton seemed a kindly man and lifting a great bunch of keys from his waist he went to a locked cupboard. Inside there were several large volumes bound in leather.

‘I am sorry for your loss young lady, it is a common story – whole families wiped out. What year did your parents marry – do you know?'

I was prepared for that and we selected a ten year period to search. The sexton left me and Billy with a candle and continued with his work.

The pages were dry and not at all damp; the ink was as good at the beginning as at the end despite being fifty years apart but the writing was spidery and cramped, and difficult to read. Luckily, Coad was an unusual name otherwise we might have been there for days. There were many Fullers and Prentices and we even saw a Makepiece. Eventually, I found what I was looking for. My parents had married in July 1770. I continued looking forwards for my own birth but was pulled up short when I came across a Coad in January 1771 – a mere six months after their marriage. My heart was in my mouth and I felt my knees buckle beneath me; I sank to the cold stone floor as bile rose in my throat, I retched. I looked at Billy, aghast. What was I to do? I could never marry Wilf or bear him a child and I knew he wanted children, we had even discussed how many. Billy dropped to the floor putting his skinny arms around me, as I sobbed bitterly on his shoulder. How long we sat there I do not know but it must have been awhile as I was frozen to the marrow when I tried to get up. The sexton was watching us and clearly wanted to know the cause of my misery but I turned my back to discourage him. ‘Shall we still look for your brother Esther, we've come all this way.' I nodded, and returned to the hateful page. Billy was leaning over me and he asked what letter started my name, he couldn't read much but knew a few of his letters. ‘I don't think this have enough sideways branches for E,' he said. ‘It looks a bit different.'

I focused my eyes and read the line out loud, pointing to each word so he could follow.

‘Billy, Billy, do you see, it's not me, the child's name is Helen. Oh, Billy what would I do without you – you're right, it doesn't have enough branches because it's an H. It isn't me. It isn't me. There was a girl child, and her name was given as Helen, but she died on the same date as her birth.'

I looked up and saw the sexton still watching curiously. I said aloud so he could hear, though my voice cracked with the effort of moving from horror to joy in less than a few moments. ‘Now we need to find William, my brother, and me, of course. I trembled as we continued turning the thick pages and found my birth date as being June 1773, two years after my parents married. William was more difficult to find but eventually he was listed as being five years younger than me. We closed the book with relief and sat a few minutes, holding hands and quietly rejoicing.

I went back to the sexton and asked if I would be able to locate my family's graves. He shook his head sadly and said he didn't think so as with the great numbers of deaths in the parish there had been many communal graves. However, he pointed out where they might be in the churchyard and Billy and I stepped over many mossy stones and headed for an area where there were no monuments but lots of lush green grass. The open spaces were alongside a wall and it was a peaceful, pretty sort of place with climbing plants working their tendrils into the old stone. We sat on the ground and I pressed my fingers into the damp green grass as I thought about my parents, my mother's trauma, and eventual happiness when she found a good man who loved her despite bearing a child by her own father. I had had a sister, which was a great surprise to me, but clearly she had never quickened with full life after her birth. For a few minutes I sorrowed for her and her beginning and end. Finally, I thought of William, cut down as so many were before he reached maturity. Gradually, my sorrow at the loss of my family dimmed and I allowed the relief to flood through me, I wanted to be happy and a mother with a child or children who would be brothers or sisters to little Beth. I could marry Wilf in all honesty, and with no stain on my history. I was my parents' truly gotten child. I cried a few tears and Billy-alone patted my hand gently as he sniffed alongside me.

We went back to the inn and packed our belongings so we could leave at first light. I had a great deal to look forward to and both Billy and I could face our futures with our friends and new families. We had so much to look forward to.