Free Who Was Angela Zendalic by Mary Cavanagh

she’d see her all the time. Cuddle her, and talk to her, and watch her grow up. Spending her weekends in joy and wonder; playing games, singing songs, reading to her, teaching her to play the piano, going on picnics and spoiling her with all the things that little girls wanted. Her little girl. As nearly hers as she could hope for.
    Ted lay the sleeping baby back in her cot with a tender kiss, sat down and took Peggy’s hand. ‘Look, Peg. Can you really afford the expense? Two pound ten a week’s quite steep. If you can’t, just say so and I’ll chip in.’
    â€˜There’s no problem. Mr Agarowlia’s staying on in the back bedroom when I get home, so his rent will more than cover the cost, and the library have offered me a post at Summertown. It’s lower grade for now but they said I’ll go up the ladder again when any vacancies arise. I’ll make out to Stan and Edie it’s a promotion, though. Summertown will suit me well. Short walk up Little Clarendon Street, and the No.2 bus from St. Giles takes me all the way there.’
    â€˜It’s really all come together, hasn’t it. Everything’s going to be alright.’
    March 30th 1954
    Dear Peg,
    Re: the ‘handover arrangements’ for next Tuesday. As we discussed I’ve hired a fully qualified nanny and a private car to take Angela down to No.55, so expect it to arrive with you around 11.00am. Stan and Edie are so excited – hopping around like two scalded cats! I’m pretty excited myself and I’m going to really enjoy being an Uncle. Peg, I can’t wait to have you home again, but it might be a good idea to leave it a week or two before you make an appearance.
    All my love, and a big kiss to our dear little girl from her devoted Uncle Ted.
    April 2nd 1954
    Dearest Ted,
    My dear friend, I will never forget how kind you have been to me. Thank you so much for everything, and Tuesday morning is all arranged with the Sisters. It’s going to be heart-breaking to hand my darling over, and I’m dreading it, but I just can’t believe my luck that’s she still going to be in my life, and only a brick’s width away. Of course I want to rush back home so I don’t miss a single minute of her settling in, but I’ve taken your advice. I’ve booked into a small hotel in Weston-Super-Mare for a couple of weeks, and my ‘exile’ will probably do me good. To have some peace and quiet and to come to terms with everything, so expect me home towards the beginning of May.
    Once again, I can’t express my gratitude more strongly.
    With much love,
    Peggy
    The time had come. A sleek, shining Rover pulled up at St. Olave’s and the nanny emerged, dressed in a formal uniform of brown tweed coat and matching hat. The Sisters, in welcoming in the young lady, play-acted their deceitful roles of caring custodians, fussing and fluttering, and smiling like the motherly angels they certainly were not. But was Peggy there to hand over her precious daughter? Her beloved little girl that she’d fed and nurtured for six whole weeks. To ensure the nanny that she loved her, and she was only giving her up because her circumstances couldn’t cope. To kiss her one last time and to whisper, ‘Mummy will see you soon, darling.’ No, she was not. She was ordered into an upstairs back room shortly before the event on the pretext of her signing some papers, only to be swiftly abandoned and the key turned. Oh, what a fool to have been tricked! She knew the horrors of ‘the handing over ritual’ from the pitiful screams of other girls who’s babies were just off for adoption and had been removed ‘for their own good’, but she’d never dreamed she would be treated so cruelly in the same way. She, too, shouted, and kicked on the door, and yelled with all her strength, but with exhaustion she’d fallen in a heap on the floor, crying, shivering and