The Girl in the Scrapbook Carolyn Ruffles (read an ebook week txt) 📖

had been so happy together but they had always longed for a child and, as they reached their late thirties, had almost given up hope.

‘You were our little miracle,’ her mum had said.

It had made Emily feel so special growing up, like she was meant for great things, and the fact that she had an imaginary friend enhanced that sense of specialness. She had always felt that Molly was her guardian angel, keeping her safe so that she could fulfil her destiny. Instead here she was. The reality, she realised, was that she was just as ordinary as anyone else, facing terrible loss just the same as countless others before her.

She was interrupted in her thoughts by a gentle knock and then her bedroom door being hesitantly pushed open. It was Aunt Liz.

‘Emily dear, the solicitor will be here any minute. Are you ready to come down?’

She nodded and, taking a deep breath, got to her feet. Life seemed to be a series of ordeals at the moment and this was the next thing to face. She assumed this would be the reading of the will. ‘Thank you. Yes. I’ll come down now.’

The doorbell sounded as she was coming down the stairs and, after introductions had been performed and tea had been made, they all assembled in the old-fashioned, sitting room. It had not been decorated for as long as Emily could remember, presumably since floral wallpaper had been fashionable, and was cluttered with heavy mahogany furniture and prints of gilt-framed oil paintings.

Mr Blake, the solicitor, was a short, portly man with thinning grey hair and large, black-framed glasses. As he withdrew a box file from his case, Aunt Jen, who was sitting next to Emily on the faded, worn sofa, grabbed her hand and held it tightly. Emily could feel her shaking and patted her arm reassuringly. Why was her aunt nervous? She had assumed the reading of the will would be routine, no surprises.

Mr Blake cleared his throat. ‘I would have visited sooner,’ he began, speaking directly to Emily. His voice felt loud and overpowering in the small room. ‘But your aunts expressly asked me to wait until ... until … well, they wanted to give you some time.’

Emily gave Aunt Jen’s hand a squeeze and smiled across at Liz. She knew her aunts were looking out for her. They were both looking incredibly worried, she thought, but it was just a fleeting notion and she concentrated her attention on the solicitor who had withdrawn a white envelope from his file and was now tapping it lightly with his stubby fingers.

‘I have something here for you that you need to read,’ he said. ‘It’s from your parents.’ He handed Emily the envelope. Sure enough, there was her name on the front, written in black ink in her mother’s slightly spidery hand.

She looked up. ‘Do you want me to read it now?’ she asked. She wanted to take it upstairs; to be on her own.

Mr Blake nodded. ‘I think that would be best.’

Emily took a deep breath and peeled open the envelope as carefully as she could. The atmosphere in the room was so heavy with expectation she could feel the weight of it bearing down on her. There was no sound apart from the relentless ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway. Inside the envelope was a single sheet of folded, A4 paper. She opened it up and read.

Our darling Emily,

If you are reading this, then something has happened to your dad and I and we can no longer be with you.

We have something to tell you, something we should have told you long ago but the time never seemed to be quite right and it seemed easier to carry on in our little family bubble of love and happiness.

The truth is that when you asked questions, lots of questions- you were such a bright, inquisitive child- about your birth, your dad and I were not entirely honest. You were not born in Ipswich hospital as we told you and the reason there are no early baby photos of you (you kept asking!) is that we adopted you when you were six weeks old.

Emily gasped in shock and looked up. The words, so stark on the page, were like a punch to her stomach. ‘Did you know?’ she demanded. ‘Do you know what’s in this letter?’

‘Yes, we did.’ Aunt Jen tried to put her arm round her but she shrugged her off and went back to the letter.

I’m so sorry we never told you but your dad and I both agree that if we could have the time over again, we still wouldn’t tell you. You were our daughter in every way except biologically and we couldn’t have loved you more. We didn’t want anything, or anyone, to come between us. That maybe sounds selfish but remember that we acted as we did because you were our whole world. You brought us such joy.

You have just started at university and we are so proud of you- our beautiful, talented, incredible daughter. Always know that you are amazing and capable of great things. Be happy, my darling, and try to forgive us.

All our love,

Mum and Dad xx

Emily let the letter fall on her lap and looked up with unseeing eyes. Adopted. Her whole life had been a lie. It was selfish of them not to tell her. She had a right to know. Anger flared, hot and painful and she swung round to her aunt.

‘You knew.’ Her tone was harsh, accusing. ‘Who else knew?’

‘No one else,’ Aunt Jen was quick to try to placate her. ‘Just us. We’re so sorry Emily but we were sworn to secrecy. It wasn’t our place to tell you.’

Her rage dissipated as quickly as it had sparked and she was left feeling flat and empty. They were right. It was not their fault. Her mum and dad were to blame but they were not here to rail against. She wanted to argue