Forgotten Child by Kitty Neale

sister, emotions were never displayed and tears never shown in public. They had set her a wonderful example andshe had grown up emulating their proud upright and dignified manner.
    At twenty, Beatrice had married well to a diplomat who was posted abroad. It had been heartbreaking to see her sister leave, especially when just three years later her mother, also young at forty-six, had become seriously ill. Before her mother had died, she’d encouraged Delia to emulate Beatrice in marrying well. With her sister able to return from abroad only for the funeral, Delia had been left feeling totally alone.
    He may not have been perfect, but Delia had married the first man who asked her – Edward. That side of marriage had shocked her, however. She wasn’t used to being held or kissed, and on her wedding night, when things had gone further, she had been horrified. She didn’t like it, found it messy, distasteful, and though she had never wanted to adopt Jennifer, it had at least given her the perfect ammunition to stop much further sexual activity. That, along with her nerves, had ensured that she always managed to get her own way, which was no more than Edward deserved.
    Delia expected Jennifer home soon and now turned her mind to her plans. By being rude, by defying her, the stupid girl had played right into her hands. All she had to do now was to lay a trap – and in such a way that it would arouse the same response from Jennifer in Robin’s hearing.
    ‘That sounds like Jenny coming in,’ he said.
    As Robin was still looking at her worriedly, Delia decided there was no time like the present. She pretended to sway a little before sitting down.
    ‘I feel a little dizzy and my throat is parched,’ she said. As the girl walked into the room she added tremulously, ‘Jennifer, there you are. I’m still upset about your behaviour, but before we talk about it please make me a cup of tea.’
    ‘You said there’s ironing waiting to be done and as I’m not an octopus, or your servant, you can make your own tea. I’m going upstairs to change.’
    ‘See, Robin, I told you,’ Delia wailed as Jennifer stalked off. ‘That was nothing in comparison to how she usually talks to me. It’s usually worse than that, much worse.’
    ‘Please, Mummy, calm down. I’ll make you a drink and then I’ll have a few words to say to Jenny.’
    Delia slumped, holding both hands over her face to hide her true feelings. She’d hardly had to make any effort at all before Jennifer had reacted – and in just the way she had wanted.
    Jenny was pleased that she’d stood up to her mother again, but had only just changed out of her school clothes when her bedroom door was flung open and Robin stormed into the room.
    ‘If I hadn’t heard it with my own ears, I’d never have believed it. You were rude to Mother and now she’s in a dreadful state.’
    ‘I only told her to make her own tea. That’s hardly reason to get into a state.’
    ‘From what she told me it isn’t the first time you’ve been rude to her. In fact you’ve been making her life hell.’
    ‘Robin, all I did was to refuse to walk home with her after we’d seen the careers adviser.’
    ‘There must be more to it than that. Mother is at the end of her tether, her nerves so bad that I fear she might be having a nervous breakdown.’
    ‘If she is, it’s got nothing to do with me,’ Jenny protested.
    ‘I doubt that, and from now on I don’t want her upset. I want you to come downstairs and apologise, but be warned, Jenny. If she isn’t better by the time Dad comes home I intend to tell him what you’ve been up to.’
    ‘But I haven’t been up to anything!’ she called, but Robin had already marched out and her door slammed behind him.
    Jenny slumped onto the side of her bed. Today had been the first time she had defied her mother and surely that wasn’t enough to cause a nervous breakdown? She had wanted to stand up for herself, but somehow it had backfired, and