To Find My Father

By Evangeline Adams

There are too many children today left by one parent or bothchildren who, for no fault of their own, suffer; some in silence, and some fighting the poverty and hardships. Some of them make it, perhaps through divine power or through their sheer determination, while others fall through the cracks of the system which is intended to help them and end their short lives before they even start to live.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 28, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499083156

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Copyright © 2014 by Evangeline Adams.

ISBN:      Softcover      978-1-4990-8316-3

                eBook            978-1-4990-8315-6

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 10/10/2014

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CONTENTS

Chapter One (Julia On The Way To Toronto Via London Remembering Details Of Her First Trip To London)

Chapter Two (Julia’s Flight To Toronto Delayed In London While She Continues Remembering Her Previous Trip)

Chapter Three (While Spending The Night In London, Due To The Delay Julia Recounts The History Of Her Family Life In Montenegro)

Chapter Four (The Story About Albert And Olga Is Continuing)

Chapter Five (Still The Continuation Of The Same Story, The Day That Changed Everyone’s Life Forever)

Chapter Six (Julia- Still In London, Continuing Her Travel To Toronto While Remembering Her Childhood And Life In Montenegro)

Chapter Seven (No More Thinking About The Past. This Is Now Her Life In Toronto)

Chapter Eight (Here Comes The Father, At Last)

NOTE TO THE READER

There are too many children today left by one parent or both, children who for no fault of their own, suffer, some in silence, and some fighting the poverty and hardships. Some of them make it, perhaps through Devine Power, or through their sheer determination, while others fall through the cracks of the system which is intended to help them and end their short lives before they even start to live.

To all those children I dedicate this book, with the intention to give them strength and encourage them that they can make it as well.

CHAPTER ONE

(Julia on the way to Toronto via London remembering details of her first trip to London)

Julia Kenedi…Julia Kenedi, please come to the check-in counter to receive your new boarding pass.

Julia heard the announcement, slowly picked her bag up and found her way to the counter. The attendant has upgraded her seat to the first lass, as Julia had requested earlier. She received both boarding passes, from Belgrade to London and from London to Toronto, her final destination. The attendant said:

We will start boarding in just few minutes, Miss Kenedi, you may as well stay here.

Julia’s heart skipped a beat, and she felt a rush of blood going to her head.

‘This is it,’ she said to herself. ‘There is no turning back now, whatever happens I will have to deal with it. Nothing worse can happen to me from what has happened already.’

Julia boarded the plane and found her seat next to the window in the second row of the first class.

‘This is going to be very comfortable.’ she thought as she leaned back and closed her eyes.

She had to take this trip. Two weeks ago she was on another trip, one that lead to this one. It was also from Belgrade to London. Then, she only had ‘The Letter’ in a worn out envelope. It was mailed to Olga Kenedi, her mother, by a man named Albert Kennedy. It gave his address in London.

Many years ago she had found this letter in her grandfather’s papers, as she was clearing his drawer after his passing. She was only seven years old then. The letter was opened and resealed again. When she took it out of the envelope she did not understand anything as it was written in a strange language. She found a safe place to hide it and every few days took it out and tried to read it, as if overnight something had changed and now she would be able to understand. But, nothing had changed and she would hide it again, take it out over and over until she memorized the few sentences and every letter in every word. It said:

"Olga, as I have told you last time we were together, everything was a big mistake. We have no future together, you don’t belong in my world, and I certainly don’t belong in yours. Me, being in London and you in Montenegro is just too hard for me, for both of us. I have to put more distance between us, so I am going to Canada today. Do not write to me, and do not try to find me. Live your life and be happy. Albert Kennedy.’

Julia did not understand the words, but the name was similar to her last name. She was forbidden by her grandfather to ask any questions about her father, but after his passing, she asked her grandmother about him, and she was told that his name was Albert Kennedy and it was written differently than on her birth certificate.

Later on, grandmother told her the whole story, but Julia on this plane did not wish to think about that. She would have enough time to think about that on the flight from London to Toronto; now, she had to go back in her memory over the last few weeks. This is what happened:

Two weeks ago, armed with ‘The Letter’ she had come to London, taken a taxi, with the address in her hand and now speaking English language and fully understanding every word in it and the circumstances leading to it, Julia relaxed in the back seat watching the taxi speed towards the destination.

London was so beautiful, even more than what she found described in the brochures she received from the travel centre. But, there is no time for sightseeing now; maybe some other time. She was on a mission. Her mind wandered ahead. Who will she find on that address? Are Albert’s parents or any relatives alive? Do they still live there? Have they heard from Albert, and would they tell her where he is? All those questions will be answered in only one hour, hopefully.

Do you know that area, sir?’ Julia asked the taxi driver. Has it changed much in last twenty years?’

‘Oh, no, miss, that area does not change much. That is what we Londoners call an upscale area, where the houses are passed from a father to a son and then to the grandson and there is very seldom a house for sale there.’

‘Here we are miss, number 24. This is the place you have on your envelope. Should I wait for you?’ asked the taxi driver.

‘Yes, please, and if I am going to stay longer, I will come out here to tell you.’

Julia left her suitcase in the taxi and with a new determination walked about ten stairs leading up the little slope to the townhouse.

The whole neighborhood was beautiful, landscaped, with blooming flowers everywhere. Julia pressed the bell and turned around as if to check on the taxi, finding comfort in knowing that there is a way out in case… After a minute or two, she pushed the bell again, hearing a melody which came from inside, thinking she did not hear that the first time. Maybe she did not push the bell hard enough. She heard the footsteps coming closer. Door opened and a young pregnant woman hesitantly pulled the door open, but just enough to show her swollen figure.

‘Can I help you?’ she said, looking almost sorry for opening the door.

‘Yes, please, my name is Julia and I am looking for a man named Albert Kennedy, or any of his relatives. This is a last address I have of this family. Are you related to them?’

‘No, I am sorry. I have heard that a Jennifer Kennedy lived here before. My father bought this townhouse about seven years ago, and he allowed me to move in with my husband last year. You see, we are expecting our first child, and my daddy wanted me to have a good home and neighborhood since our previous flat was not in a good area. Who was this Albert Kennedy to you?’ asked the lady, opening the door a little more.

‘I think he is my father. I have never seen him -- as you can see we are all not very fortunate with our fathers as you are with yours. Thank him in my name for his generosity, please,’ said Julia. The young woman turned red and was visibly uncomfortable for asking that question and Julia seized the opportunity to ask her some more.

‘Do you know any of your neighbors? Do you think there would be still somebody living here from before your father bought the house?’

‘Oh, yes, these homes don’t change the owners very often. My father said he was very lucky to be offered to buy this one. You see, next door owner is Gwen Larsen; her husband was a good friend of my grandfather, and when this house was about to be placed on the market, after being empty for few years, Gwen called my father and told him about it, as she did not want to have some strange people next door to her. My father took action immediately and bought it. It did not even go on the market. Everything was done through a solicitor who Gwen knew and who was looking after the interest of the owner.’

‘Do you think I can speak to Gwen Larsen for few minutes?’ asked Julia looking back at the taxi.

‘I think so, she is a very pleasant older lady - I mean, real lady, all that proper and polite way. She would never turn you down if she could help you. Let me introduce you to her.’ The young woman came out and closed the door.

‘Oh, thank you very much!’ Julia felt she just got a new lease on life.

‘But let me tell the taxi driver, and ask him to come back and get me in two hours’ time,’ said Julia. Taxi driver was happy for Julia’s progress, and promised to come back in two hours.

Mrs. Gwen Larsen came to the door after the young woman announced herself as:

‘Donna is here, Mrs. Larsen can I speak to you for one moment?’

‘Oh yes, dear, you can always speak to me. What is it that you need?’ And as she opened the door she realized that Donna was not alone.

‘Oh, I see you have company today. Is this young lady one of your school friends?’

‘No, Mrs. Larsen, this is Julia. She is looking for the Kennedy family. She says Albert Kennedy may be her father. Can you talk to her for few minutes and tell her what you know about them?’

‘Yes, my dear, please forgive my manners. Come in, Julia. You too, Donna, you may find this very interesting as well. Come in and sit down, please. I was about to ring the bell and order some tea from the kitchen, now we all can enjoy a cup together.

‘Isabel" she called.

‘Yes, Mrs. Larsen.’ Isabel came into the room in her uniform. She looked to be about sixty years old. Later Julia understood that she was with Mrs. Larsen for twenty years.

‘We have company. Can you make us some tea and bring some of those delicious scones you make, while we get to know each other.’

‘Yes, Mrs. Larsen.’

Isabel disappeared around the corner which was probably the kitchen. While this conversation was taking place, Julia glanced over the big beautiful room, which was furnished in antiques. Julia didn’t know anything about antique furnishings, she had no earlier opportunity to find out, but at that brief moment she made a pledge with herself that as soon as possible she would take on that subject, realizing that there are many more subjects she would have to take on. But, first comes first. As she turned towards her host, she realized Mrs. Larsen was already talking to her.

‘Please, excuse me, Mrs. Larsen, I was admiring your furniture and for a moment got lost in its beauty. Please forgive me, how rude of me,’ said Julia.

‘No, no, my dearest, that’s quite alright, it happens to many people who come for the first time in my home. But, let’s see now, why do you think and what proof do you have that Albert Kennedy is your father?’ asked Mrs. Larsen.

‘I have this letter he wrote to my mother. The letter was written on September 22, 1978, and I was born on April 21, 1979, which would mean that my mother was about two months pregnant when he wrote this letter. Also my birth certificate states that my father’s name is Albert Kennedy. The difference in spelling is due to our alphabet, we don’t have a letter ‘Y’, and we never use double letters,’ Julia finished.

‘That is very interesting, very interesting indeed. May I see that letter? Oh, here comes Isabel with the tea. Please, pour yourselves a cup, while I fetch something out of my safe from my bedroom. Isabel, please make sure our guests are served properly. Thank you!’

Slowly Mrs. Larsen got up from her chair, cheerful, not showing her age, looking like a woman on a mission, discovering something of utmost importance. And as far as Julia was concerned, it was of utmost importance.

Isabel poured the tea and placed the plate of scones in front of Donna and Julia. Donna took a plate and put two scones on it, showing the familiarity as if she has done this many times before. And that she did. Mrs. Larsen, being eighty six years old, rarely had company and guests these days, explaining that with:

‘Everybody is so busy these days with their own lives and nobody has time anymore for anyone else. It was not like that in the old times.’

Donna on the other hand had too much time, having her husband gone so often on business trips, her friends on the other side of London, so, any invitation from Mrs. Larsen was accepted with gladness and gratefulness. Those invitations came almost daily, so you were able to feel the closeness between the two women as soon as you saw them in the same room. Mrs. Larsen returned to the living room after few minutes carrying a bunch of letters tied neatly with a ribbon.

‘Now let us see, my dears, what we have here, but first Isabel, pour me a cup of tea, please.’

Isabel was standing almost to attention at the side of the sofa where Donna and Julia were sitting. Immediately she handed Mrs. Larsen her cup of tea and placed a scone on her plate.

‘I will be in the kitchen, Mrs. Larsen, if you still need me.’ said Isabel.

‘Yes, my dear Isabel, I will call you.’

She ate her scone in silence, since in Mrs. Larsen’s books no one talked while eating scones. After the last drop of tea, she wiped her hands on a linen napkin at the end of the table and being ensured that the guests had also finished their tea, she proudly took the envelopes, untied the ribbon, took Julia’s envelope in the other hand, studied them both for a brief moment and concluded:

‘Yes, Julia, Albert did write this letter to your mother. But, as for the date of the letter and your birthday, I can not conclude anything as it is not my job to do so. Only thing I can say for the benefit of my Albert is that he knew nothing about Olga being pregnant and having a child. Had he known that, he never would have written this letter. I remember his day of departure for Canada. It was a dark day for him, for his sister Jennifer and for me, as he came to say goodbye to us. Jennifer and I were having tea as we did almost every day. He came in and stood in the middle of the room and started to cry. I have never seen my Albert cry before, not even when his parents were killed. After a short cry he told us:

‘Mrs. Larsen, Jennifer, I am going to Canada today. It’s for the best.’ And then he gave us a hug, picked up his backpack and left.’

Mrs. Larsen took a tissue from the table to wipe her tears, as she remembered the day Albert had written that letter to Olga, and left for Canada that same day. She continued:

‘For many years we did not hear from Albert. His sister Jennifer waited every day for the postman, only to be disappointed over and over again. We never heard from Olga either, and often we talked about the poor mountain girl that was not able to adjust in this, for her, strange country and learn the difficult language. Now, dear Julia, how is it that you can speak English so well? Did you study in England?’

Julia answered:

‘No, Mrs. Larsen, this is the first time for me to come to England, but how I learned the language is a very long story, and maybe one day soon I will be able to tell you that and many more stories, better yet, I promise you and Donna, since you both are helping me with the search for my father, to send you my book as soon as is published, so you can read about every little detail of my life and Olga’s.’

‘Oh, Julia, now you are going to make me cry,’ said Donna, reaching across the sofa to hug Julia. Julia, taken by surprise, and not being accustomed to such affection froze in her arms. Mrs. Larsen noticing Julia’s uncomfortable situation, came to her defense.

‘Now, now, Donna, do not excite yourself so much, you don’t want that baby of yours to be born sooner than it should.’

Donna, hearing the mention of her baby, let Julia out of her embrace, apologizing for her outburst of emotions. Julia glanced out the window and noticed that her taxi had returned and was parked in the same spot where it was earlier. She turned to Mrs. Larsen and asked:

‘Can I come tomorrow, Mrs. Larsen, so you can tell me more about Albert and my mother? My taxi is waiting on the street, and I have to find a hotel and rest for the night, so that I can be refreshed tomorrow to hear more. Please, Mrs. Larsen, can I come again?’

‘Nonsense, dear Julia, you go and send that taxi on his way. You will stay here with me. I have so much more to tell you. I have a guest room which has not been used for a long time, and I will send Isabel to get the bed ready for you. We are all tired, aren’t we, Donna? We will not talk anymore tonight about Albert. We can meet here again in the morning and continue this very interesting story.’ Taking a deep breath, Mrs. Larsen continued:

‘Now hurry outside Julia and tell your taxi driver to go, take his card and tell him you will call him when he is needed next time, hurry… Isabel dear, get the guest room ready for the night, Julia will be staying with us. Oh, yes, another Kennedy will stay with us tonight. My dear Albert, it may be that his daughter will stay under my roof for this one night. Oh, I am so happy tonight Isabel.’ Mrs. Larsen was talking as if nobody else was in the room.

Julia went outside, gave the taxi driver a bank note big enough to cover his work for three days and