‘Is that William Smith that she’s dancing with?’ Paul asked.
‘Yes, that’s right,’ Morton confirmed. ‘But he’s not Barbara’s father.’
Morton’s words were met with three gasps and three perplexed faces.
‘What do you mean?’ Barbara questioned. ‘It stated on my adoption records that William Smith was my father.’
‘Elsie lied. Your father is in the back of the picture—sitting at the bar.’
Barbara, Paul and Rose squinted at the photo. It was Rose who spotted it first. ‘Woody!’ she yelled. ‘No!’
It wasn’t his usual diplomatic way of broaching such sensitive issues, but Morton was running out of time. ‘Yes, Woody is your father,’ Morton said, ‘although he didn’t know it at the time.’
‘But—when did he find out?’ Rose begged. ‘I can’t believe this—can you, Paul?’
‘Let him speak,’ Barbara said with a smile, tapping her sister lightly on the leg.
‘Elsie got pregnant on the 15th August 1940, whilst still stationed at Hawkinge—her last night there. Apparently, William Smith was a bit of a sleaze and tried it on with her—as he had done with several other ladies and was on the verge of being reported for it. From what I can gather, it looks as though he might have killed himself that day. His Hurricane ploughed straight into the ground, making no efforts to pull up or get out. I don’t know this for certain, however, but you can read the reports in here,’ he said, tapping the folder.
‘So, why did Mum say that William was the father, then?’ Paul asked.
‘I think to protect Woody and also because William wasn’t around to argue and say that he wasn’t the baby’s father. So, I don’t know how she managed it, but Elsie stayed on in the WAAF, just going to Cliff House to give birth before returning to her post at RAF West Kingsdown, where she had been working as an Assistant Section Officer. And here’s where it gets more interesting…’
‘Oh, dear—I’m not sure if I want to hear this,’ Barbara said.
‘Elsie wasn’t the only one to be giving birth there. There were lots of women—the house was like a kind of refuge. But, it had a very dark side,’ Morton warned, turning to face Paul and Rose. ‘I’m afraid that Laurie’s mum and sister were selling babies to the highest bidder.’
Another chorus of disbelieving gasps.
Morton faced Barbara and saw the anguish in her eyes.
‘So my mum and dad bought me?’
Morton nodded. ‘I’m afraid so, yes.’
‘Gosh,’ she mumbled, receiving Rose’s gentle hand on her shoulder.
‘Our grandmother was selling babies…’ Rose mumbled. ‘How despicable.’
Morton paused and allowed the news to sink in. But the clock was ticking. He had to move on. ‘So, then Elsie was transferred to Valletta, Malta, which at that time was one of the most dangerous places in the world. Her work there undoubtedly saved lives on the island.’
‘Wow,’ Paul said, shaking his head.
‘Woody was also stationed on the island—he’d gone looking for her—but she still didn’t tell him about the baby. Elsie came to England and was promoted again for her work, then she was sent to RAF Bentley Priory.’
‘So when did Woody find out about me, then?’ Barbara asked.
‘Well, according to him, it was in 1944, after he’d been shot down. He went in search of her again and found her in Maidstone Prison.’
‘What?’ Paul said.
‘Are you joking?’ Rose begged.
‘She was imprisoned for desertion for four weeks.’
‘If she was doing such amazing work, why did she desert?’ Barbara asked.
‘She wasn’t officially dismissed until 1944, but her Record of Service shows her last date of work as being 12th July 1943. Does that date ring any bells?’ Morton asked, receiving three blank looks.
‘Was that when our grandmother died?’ Paul suggested.
‘Exactly,’ Morton confirmed.
‘Is there a connection?’ Rose stammered. ‘Between our mother and our grandmother’s death?’
Morton held his hands up. ‘I only have Woody’s word for it—not a shred of documentary evidence…but, he alleges that Elsie’s friend, Violet had something to do with Agnes’s death.’ He faced Barbara. ‘The details of your adoption were contained in something called The Spyglass File. Elsie found out where your adoptive parents had taken you.’
‘And?’ Barbara said.
‘And she went and found them. She worked as a live-in housekeeper until she was caught eleven months later.’
The look of shock on Barbara’s face was alarming; Morton wondered if he had perhaps said too much, too quickly.
‘1944, you say?’ Barbara queried. ‘So I would have been three…I…oh my goodness…I think I remember her…’ Her words faltered as the tears began to flow down her cheeks. ‘Her face is a blur now, but I remember her kindliness. I remember how much she cared for me and how much we loved each other. My goodness…She was my mother.’
Rose glanced at her brother. ‘Are you sure about this, Morton?’
‘It came from Woody himself,’ Morton confirmed. ‘He met her from prison and that’s when she confessed. Your adoptive parents promptly moved away with you and Elsie returned to her life in Nutley. Lawrence was freed in 1945 and came back home. I don’t know for certain, but I doubt he ever knew anything about Elsie’s war.’
Rose was stroking Barbara’s back. ‘And then we came along.’
‘Yes,’ Morton said. He had one last thing to tell them, but didn’t quite know how to say it. ‘There is just one more thing.’
Three sets of eyes regarded him expectantly. Barbara, still in tears, reached for Rose’s hand to help her brace for any further potential impact.
‘Your DNA
