The Unwanted Child

By Nadine Jackson-Croker

Jessica had only recently come to England from the south of France where she had been living with her grandfather, Brigadier Sir Frank Jarvis, since November 1946, so that her mother, Marie Thérèse Craven could go out to work.

Her daughter was more of an inconvenience to her than a beloved child. She was very aware of the strong bond that existed between Jessica and her father, the Brigadier, and was glad of it. It meant that the child could be left in his care and out of her way.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris UK
• Release date: Mar 27, 2023
• ISBN: 9781664118768

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Copyright © 2023 by Nadine Jackson-Croker. 849748

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.

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Library of Congress Control Number: 2023902872

Rev. date: 03/20/2023

Contents

Chapter One The Little French Girl

Chapter Two The Christmas Holidays.

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

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Chapter one.

The Little French Girl

J essica Craven looked up at the tall smartly dressed man who had just been introduced to her as her new papa. Her all -too- familiar shyness overcame her as she quickly lowered her eyes to study the carpet, whilst her hand crept up to twiddle a strand of hair. Well, say Hello then. Urged her mother, who had seated herself on a large comfortable sofa on the other side of the elegant drawing room. Jessica’s eyes flicked towards her mother, then back to this stranger standing so tall in front of he with an amused expression in his dark eyes. Bonjour monsieur. She said, her voice almost a whisper. Bonjour! Bonjour! Her mother cried half laughing, half exasperated, Jess, you are in England now. You must speak English! Pourquoi? asked Jessica. Because, came the answer. You were born here, you are English, and you must go to an English school..

Jessica’s eyes widened in surprise, she moved across the room and perched on the edge of the sofa beside her mother. She was small for her age and very thin. She had light brown shoulder length hair that curled naturally and was kept in place with a hairband. I am to rest wiz you now? She asked. Et, Grandpapa? Ee will be wiz us? Her mother looked enquiringly towards her new husband.

He crossed the room and crouched down in front of the child. He took her hands and held them gently in his warm soft grasp. Come now Jess, he said kindly. You’re a big girl now. How old are you? Eight is it? Jessica nodded. Well then, you’re a big enough to go to a really lovely school and live with lots of other girls. Jessica pulled her hands free and turned to look at her mother who wouldn’t meet her eyes.

Maman? She whispered.

Oh Jess! you will love it there. She said smiling down at her little daughter. There will be so much to do. There will be games to play. You’ll be able to swim. You’ll go on the lovely walks. I’m sure you will soon make friends with the other girls. Jessica looked down at her hands and twisted them in her lap. Est-ce-que pour toujour?

The two adults exchanged looks and remained silent. Et les vacances? asked Jessica, a worried expression on her face. Oh darling! Those will be weeks and weeks away. You will be all settled in by then. We will think about those things when we come to them. She gave her daughter a little hug. In the meantime there are all your new clothes to buy. Uniform, shoes and goodness knows what else. With that she rose to her feet and looked at h watch. Off you go and change your dress now, because we are all going out for a lovely meal together.

Jessica had only recently come to England from the south of France where she had been living with her grandfather, Brigadier Sir Frank Jarvis, since November 1946, so that her mother, Marie Thérèse Craven could go out to work. She had been widowed when her husband a squadron leader in the RAF was killed in a flying accident earlier that year. Marie was a beautiful slender young woman of average height. Her dark hair, make-up and clothes were always immaculate, which gave her the appearance of an extremely elegant woman. Unusually her eyes were not brown as one might expect, but very blue, the colour of bluebells. She was a woman who knew what she wanted, and how to get it. She had a soft clear voice - although she could have a very sharp tongue when faced with something that displeased her. She spoke with a slight French accent which most people found rather attractive.

Her daughter was more of an inconvenience to her than a beloved child. She was very aware of the strong bond that existed between Jessica and her father, the Brigadier, and was glad of it. It meant that the child could be left in his care and out of her way. So, it came as quite a shock to her when he told her that, now that she had remarried, she should take her maternal responsibilities much more seriously. Unfortunately, her new husband, squadron Leader Tony Walsh, had just as little interest in and affection for children as she had herself. He had just landed an excellent, well-paying job, with an American finance company, and was to be situated in their UK head office in Edinburgh. Thus it was that the new Mrs Walsh was more than happy to find a very good, if rather expensive, boarding school for her daughter to attend, which just happened to be in Hampshire and near the sea.

The fact that Jessica had lived and gone to school in the south of France for the past four years and that she had a problem, not only with learning to read and write, but also with her native English language, didn’t seem to bother her mother at all. Marie, who herself was fluent in both languages, was quite sure that the child would soon pick it up - wouldn’t she?

***

The next three weeks were terribly busy. Jessica was taken to Harrods and pushed in and out of tunics, skirts, blouses, shorts,and course tweed jackets, as well as shoes for outside, inside, gym, hockey, netball and muddy walks. Everything was new knee length socks, underwear, nightclothes and mufti, which turned out to be skirts and jumpers, and dresses to change into for the evening. Then every garment had to be named. Marie employed a young woman who came every day to work. She was a poor creature with long straggly, dark coloured hair. She too was a widow and needed the money, so she also came to clean, polish and sew the name tapes on the huge pile of new clothes. These tasks also included taking care of Jessica when her mother and stepfather went out without her in the day and generally in the evening as well. Her name was Janice Black. She was scared get stiff of her employers and hardly ever said a word when they were in the flat . When they went out, she what is a totally different person. She would chatter away to Jessica and help her when Jessica got stuck with a word she didn’t know. It didn’t always work, because Janice knew no French at all and would smile at Jessica’s attempt to mine what she needed to say.

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Piles of clothes were being transferred from the named pile and packed away in a huge trunk which also received a tennis racket, hockey stick, attaché case with writing paper and envelopes, and a new pen and pencil set. At last everything was packed and ready to be transported to Jessica’s new school, which sounded very grand indeed. It was called Princess Alexandra Private School for Girls.. Term was to start on the twelth day of September and the girls were to arrive with their parents no later than two in the afternoon on that day. Parents were invited to partake of tea and cakes in the head mistress’s sitting room before departure should they wish to do so.

In the meantime, Jessica saw very little of her mother and her new father. In the mornings, they rose late, and were extremely angry with her if she disturbed them before they were up. They would breakfast in the dining room, whilst Jessica had her breakfast in the kitchen. After breakfast, if there was no shopping to do for Jessica’s school, they would go and meet friends for lunch, leaving Jessica with Janice, and in the evenings they went out again to parties, clubs and dinners with friends. This meant that Jessica saw little of London, and met nobody other than Janice and shop assistants.

The twelth day of September soon arrived and Jessica, dressed in her new school uniform, and looking very small indeed, was bundled into the back of Tony’s large black car whilst her trunk was loaded into the boot. The journey took two hours or more, as they passed through leafy lanes and rural towns. . They finally arrived at the school at precisely two o’clock. Marie had no inclination to spend any time at all with the headmistress, or anyone else. She deposited her shy and frightened daughter into the care of the first available senior pupil. Then, showing absolutely no affection for the child, she turned away and spoke curtly to the porter, telling him to remove the trunk from the car. Once he had done so she got back into the passenger seat, and was driven away without so much as a backward glance.

The school building looked more like a stately home than a school. The approach to the school was a long U-shaped drive that swept round in a semi circle from one huge gate to the other. The front door was approached by some wide shallows steps that led up to an arch over two impressive oak doors, which at present stood open to receive the girls as they arrived. There was a tall stained glass window on either side divided in the middle by and an oak bar . As she entered into the hall, which was paved with well-worn flag stones, Jessica looked up at an ornate staircase that swept up to a mezzanine before turning out of sight. On the mezzanine landing, there was another impressive stained glass window of some size which depicted a scene of St George and the Dragon. There was an oak table at the foot of the stairs, and opposite the doorway an antique fireplace, above which the arms of the previous owners was emblazoned in stone. It stood out as bright and shining as one could imagine it had been when it was first installed.

Jessica, wide-eyed and nervous, stood, head bowed, in front of a girl who looked more like a grown-up to Jessica than pupil. She was a pretty girl with a long plait down her back, and round spectacles on her nose, which made her brown eyes seem huge. She bent down and smiled at Jessica. Hello she said in a deep pleasant voice. You’re Jessica Craven aren’t you? Jessica nodded. My name is Amanda Best. Most people call me Mandy.

The girl, realizing that Jessica was looking puzzled, as well as scared, repeated what she had said in French. Jessica didn’t move and continued to look at the floor. Don’t be scared said Mandy taking her hand. I know this is all very strange, but you will get used to it. Come with me and I will show you to your dorm.

She led Jessica towards the stairs and up to the first landing, then turned left and entered the first door she came to which was standing open. There were already four girls in the room who obviously knew each other. Mandy looked round at them and introduced Jessica to them, still speaking French she made the introduction. This is Susan, she is the oldest in this dorm. That one by the window is Anne Wilson, the one with the horse photos is Beth, and this one here.- she ruffled the hair of an equally pretty girl with very curly red hair. Is my sister Barbara Best. But we all call her BB. She looked round the room and took Jessica over to a bed in one corner of the room. Then, turning to the other girls, she said Jessica is new, and possibly the youngest boarder here. She has just come from France, so you are all to show her the ropes and help her to know what to do and where to go. Is that clear? The other girls all nodded. Mandy turned back to Jessica, and, still speaking French, she said, If you get worried about anything, or need help with where to go or what to do,I am always just next door, I am the prefect for this floor, and you can always come to me she turned to BB, and speaking in English she touched her sister’s arm. I know you have your own friends, BB, but try to imagine being in a strange country, in a strange place and not knowing anyone, plus not understanding what people are saying to you. Not knowing where to go or what to do. So be kind. That goes for all of you She turned back to Jessica. Your trunk will be here soon. The girls will show you where to put your things and where to go for tea, which is at four o’clock. Jessica nodded and whispered a thank -you as she sat down on her bed.

There were six beds in the dormitory, each one with a curtain around it, making a neat cubicles for the girls to have a little privacy. Beside each bed, there was a marbled washstand which had