\u2018Sometimes I wish I was someone else.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bob, having finally got Edna to talk about herself, hesitated then asked: \u2018Do you feel\u2026?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018Unwanted?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They were in a pub in Peckham, both sipping warm beer, the nineteen-fifties three days from ending.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018The next decade\u2019s going to be better,\u2019 Bob said. \u2018Attitudes are going to change.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
Her account had opened his eyes. A woman called Ivy gets pregnant \u2018out of wedlock\u2019 at seventeen, then dies giving birth. Her infant, Edna, survives and Ivy\u2019s mother \u2018takes mercy\u2019 on the orphan, bringing her up in a chill house where resentment rattles its walls, and reluctance blows on its roof slates. The orphan grandchild is blamed for her mother\u2019s \u2018mistake\u2019 and death, and is daily force fed \u2018gratitude\u2019.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Edna sipped her alcohol self-consciously, as though being judged. In the stockbroker\u2019s office where they both worked, she sat at her typewriter in similar uneasy fashion. It was their first date, perhaps her first glass of alcohol<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018If you could have one thing,\u2019 Bob asked, \u2018what would it be?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her hand went to her mouth self-protectively. \u2018I don\u2019t know.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Joy<\/em>, he thought. That\u2019s what she\u2019d like but she doesn\u2019t feel worthy of it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \/<\/p>\n\n\n\n I woke up just as my waters broke. Bob rang the midwife who said she\u2019d come soon. Next thing I\u2019m getting mild contractions as I prepare a casserole for the evening meal for the two of us. The contractions become stronger, I lay down in the bedroom, call Bob. The baby\u2019s head appears as the midwife knocks. Bob refuses to leave me, despite the midwife asking him to. Another push, the rest of my daughter arrives, and not long after the placenta. I didn\u2019t need stitches or painkillers, and Bob held my hand. I cradled the baby and thought of my mum, the life we might have had.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \/<\/p>\n\n\n\n One day, when our three children had grown and left home, Bob looked round the garden of our new house, and said, \u2018Do you remember our first date, you said, \u201cIf I ever get a home of my own\u2026\u201d \u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018 \u201c\u2026Everybody can come to it.\u201d \u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Honestly, your gran! Wouldn\u2019t let you have schoolfriends round, though they invited you to theirs.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018I still mean it, Bob. I\u2019ll help any child I can.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018I\u2019ve got an idea, Edna.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \/<\/p>\n\n\n\n Edna Johnston, growing up orphaned, made a vow to be there for other kiddies. Today marks twenty years of opening her picturesque garden to youngsters. Edna, 82, who retired to the coast from London, started Whitstable Open Gardens in 2006. Dozens of local gardens participate in the scheme. The annual event has now raised over \u00a3100,000 for the Children\u2019s Society.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018We\u2019ve had five hundred people this weekend in our garden alone,\u2019 she said. There\u2019s a waterfall, pond, mini-woodland, allotment, bird sanctuary. I love seeing the children\u2019s pleasure.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Their joy,\u2019 added Edna\u2019s doting husband, Bob.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Every child welcome! The once lonely toddler now has heaps of small friends! A big-hearted lady!<\/p>\n\n\n\n Emily Lufton, Kent Online News<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" \u2018Sometimes I wish I was someone else.\u2019 Bob, having finally got Edna to talk about herself, hesitated then asked: \u2018Do you feel\u2026?\u2019 \u2018Unwanted?\u2019 They were in a pub in Peckham, both sipping warm beer, the nineteen-fifties three days from ending. \u2018The next decade\u2019s going to be better,\u2019 Bob said. \u2018Attitudes are […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"rop_custom_images_group":[],"rop_custom_messages_group":[],"rop_publish_now":"initial","rop_publish_now_accounts":{"facebook_10158782359051062_103813597863211":"","twitter_1225722811282530305_1225722811282530305":""},"rop_publish_now_history":[],"rop_publish_now_status":"pending","_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[1792,1904],"tags":[1343,567,1919,1917,771,95,7,1918,1911,12,14,118,174,74,11],"class_list":["post-2761","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-1792","category-sept-2026-mistakes","tag-asked","tag-bob","tag-both","tag-edna","tag-feel","tag-had","tag-her","tag-midwife","tag-mistake","tag-my","tag-she","tag-they","tag-three","tag-up","tag-was"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pbrNJE-Ix","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2761","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2761"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2761\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2762,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2761\/revisions\/2762"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2761"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2761"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2761"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}