Precious Gift

By Erica Kendrick

Sue is an ordinary woman, with an extraordinary tale to tell. A child of the wishes and lost prayers of a desperate would-be-mother, she does not know her origins, but there is something different about her. She is extremely intelligent and can protect herself without realising. She also watches out for her obese little sister, Naomi, the miracle born when all hope was lost again.
When she meets up with her estranged father after eight years, he tells of how she came to be and the sacrifice her mother made, a sacrifice that lodged resentment from the get-go.
Now Sue must remember her roots and find her people once more. It will be a journey she must make to know why the ones she trusted sent her family this precious gift and what went wrong.

See the story from Sue’s and her sister’s perspectives during a timeline of 27 years.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Erica Kendrick
• Release date: Aug 11, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466053991

Erica Kendrick

30-something gal who loves to write. I have completed a creative writing course and will be embarking on a novel writing course soon.

Book preview

PART 1.

Chapter 1.

I do not know where to start my story. My name is Sue and I am 27 years old. I live with my parents in their house and I work in a fairly normal office as a Finance Clerk. I have a boyfriend named Jed. He is 30. I have the same hopes and aspirations as any woman my age. I dream of marriage and having children with the love of my life.

But I have a secret and it’s one that people are prone not to believe. This will include you, until you hear my tale.

I suppose the best place to start is at the beginning. My parents thought I was a pretty special baby, but then so do all parents. In their case they’d had trouble conceiving and after 5 years, when my Mother had turned 30, I was finally the miracle they’d hoped for. And even better, I was a very healthy child. I guess alarm bells should have been ringing when my Mother never had to take me to see the doctor, other than for check-ups. The doctor never thought to comment on this until I turned 14. Just a by-the-way sort of remark, off the cuff.

Your daughter has never had one day sick in her life. Amazing. My Mother paid no attention, although she really should have done. And at school, I was the only pupil with perfect attendance. But I am getting ahead of myself; I should speak more of my early years.

So, as I say, I was a healthy baby and never gave my parents any trouble. I became a toddler and behaved like a good girl. I would never wander off and have my Mother worried sick about losing me. I would stick to her side like glue and never had a tantrum. You would think this would make me close to my Mother, especially after she thought she would never have me, but for some reason she just wasn’t affectionate and I, in turn, did not feel as if I belonged.

My Mother turned 36 and fell pregnant once more, but this time the child was sickly and I had to constantly look after my little sister, Naomi. Of course, the trips to the doctor were much more frequent than mine had been. My Mother and Naomi doted on each other and my baby sister was the daughter I had never been. This was to be my Mother’s big error. My Father left her when I was 10 years old and I was left alone more and more as Naomi grew. And grew. My Mother would let her have anything she wished, which was frequently chocolate and junk food, but not making her exercise and so the child became overweight, which just exacerbated her health problems. The trips to the doctor stopped as my Mother decided they were a waste of time as her precious Naomi was not getting any better and he’d had the cheek to suggest her baby was ‘fat’!

As I went to secondary school, Naomi began primary school and the teasing commenced that would haunt her education. I excelled all my classes whilst my sister stayed constantly bottom. As I left school at 16 with straight As, an obese Naomi attended the same secondary school as I had. I went away to college to obtain some A-levels as I no longer wished to live with my Mother and sister. During the holidays, I went home, even though I tried to find my Father to no avail.

Chapter 2.

So far, I have only really told you the bare bones of my growing up. I guess I should go into more detail. As I say, I stuck by my Mother’s side whilst a young child, but she didn’t need to tell me to do so, I just knew.

After a couple of years, I began to think my Mother was trying to lose me. She never held my hand and would wander off if I wasn’t keeping a careful eye on her, much as she should have been on me. Once I noticed she wasn’t there, I would wait patiently and she would return to where she had left me. She would always give me an evil look, as though it was my fault I hadn’t been with her all along. She would grab my arm and drag me out of the shop and home.

I told you I excelled all my classes. It wasn’t the way the lessons were taught; I had an instinctive knowledge for the subjects. My peers believed I had chosen my options wisely, but truth be told, I could have had a list of courses, pointed with a blind-fold on and still passed every single one. I never wondered at this ability as I had no idea it wasn’t the norm, especially not in my family.

At 18, I left my sanctuary of college and returned home to my partial family. I looked for somewhere to live on my own, but couldn’t bring myself to actually move out, even though I hated it where I was. Once more, I was being ignored until Naomi needed help with her homework. I say help; I usually ended up doing it for her. I knew this didn’t help her in the slightest, but she would get frustrated if I tried to explain even the simplest things and accuse me of being just like one of her horrible teachers. I knew the teachers were nice people; I’d had the same ones. She was 12 at this point and on the turn of becoming a dreadful teenager. I do not mean to slight teenagers, just that my sister was awful. She gave hoodies a bad name, if you can imagine it. More often than not, my Mother would send me around to the police station to pick up Naomi. And of course I received no thanks.

One day, I received an unexpected telephone call. My Father wanted to see me. How I had dreamed of this! I made sure the other women in my house did not find out I was going to meet him and left promptly in good time to arrive at the cafe we had agreed upon.

It had been 8 years since I had seen my Father and the years had been good to him. He had a full beard, which was a direct rebellion against my Mother, who detested facial hair. I thought it rather suited him.

Sue, my darling daughter! How marvellous to see you!

Daddy, I was so pleased to hear your voice. But, of course, I didn’t recognise it. How could I?

Well, you’ve grown so much. You’re a real lady now, my sweet Sue.

But, why have you left it so long, Daddy?

Well Sue, I had to wait until you turned 18. You see, I have something to tell you. Something fantastic!

My head was spinning as I left the cafe. My Father said he was unlikely to see me again, which had me crying but I also understood why. It was time for me to grow up, fly the nest. I knew why I never fit in and why Naomi was so much more special than me. I picked up the local newspaper on my way home and prepared to find somewhere to live.

I received a call on my mobile phone; Naomi was in trouble yet again. I stopped in at the police station and took the lecture that I had heard a hundred times before. But this time was different. If my sister kept going this way, she would get an ASBO and an ankle tag, no more warnings. She thought nothing of throwing a brick through the window of an abandoned house, but she’d been dared and someone had seen her. Damage to property was still anti-social, no matter how inhabited (or not) the building was. I dragged her home and handed her over to our Mother.

She’s your problem now. I know I’m not wanted by you, I never was. I’m leaving. These were my words to the woman who carried me inside her for 9 months.

What? Why the sudden change? You’re absolutely right, though. This was her reply.

"Martin has told me everything, what my life has been. A lie. And what