Previous.

I've always known that I was adopted, but in 2003, at the age of fifty one, I decided to find my mother.

After a short search, and with a lot of help, I found her in Santa Cruz, California. I travelled from Scotland where I lived at the time, and stood on her doorstep. She took me in with open arms, and we hit it off right away.

My mother has told me how she met my father, a handsome American, who was in the Merchant Marine. They fell in love, but six months later he had to sail to South America. He promised to write. This was not to be the end for them. And he indeed wrote several letters.

Mum then discovers that she is pregnant. She writes my father several times, but hears nothing. My grandmother keeps insisting that no letters have ever arrived. Mum is devastated.
My mother then gets a job as a nanny with a family who is happy to take her on despite her condition.
My mother doesen't want my grandmother to know about her pregnacy, but she keeps checking whether any letter has arrived, always with the same negative answer.
Mum makes the hard decision that she has to give me up for adoption.

I'm taken away right after being born. My mother never allowed to see me. When Mum has recuperated, she gets another job as a nanny, but this time with an American family in Heidelberg, Germany.
In late 1953, Mum meets George, an American soldier, and they gradually fall in love deciding to marry. Mum is now telling me about their plans to marry in Denmark.

Part Sixteen.

We strolled back from the waterfront in a companionable silence, and once inside, I motioned for my mother to take a seat out in the terrace while I put on the kettle. Once the water boiled, I quickly made our coffees. Only two days since I met my mother for the first time, and I already knew how she liked her brew. Amazing! I brought both cups out; placed one in front of her, and sat down facing Mum.

"Ah, this is nice." She smiled. "A few sips of this and I'm ready to continue with my story."

I smiled back at her, thinking how happy I was, and how I could hardly wait for Mum to carry on.

"Well, where was I?" Mum cleared her throat as if to better her train of thoughts.

"Oh, that's right, George and I were to go to Denmark to marry in the autumn of 1954. We had informed my mother, and to my great surprise, she claimed that she was thrilled.

"Then something strange happened. A few weeks before we were due to leave, a letter arrived from the Danish Authorities asking me to sign for the third and the final time to ensure that I agreed to give you up. A couple wanted to adopt you, the proceedings well on their way, but could not be finalised without my signature.

"To be honest, it freaked me out. I can't say that I had forgotten about you, Ulla, but I had sort of put it all into a compartment that I didn't visit, but this brought it all back. I was shaken to the core."

I looked at my mother and the sensation of the small hairs at the back of my head standing on end was overwhelming. What she'd just told me reminded me yet again what my adoptive father said so very long ago. The day he blurted out that my real father was a foreigner, maybe an American. Then my adoptive mother frantically tried to stop his outburst which only had the opposite effect. There was something else he'd said, but what was it? It was lurking in the background, but it refused to come to the fore. However much I focused, I still couldn't remember. It was right under the surface, yet it stubbornly stayed underneath as if prevented from coming up and catch a breath.

I made a quick decision to say nothing, letting Mum get on with her story. She wouldn't know anyway, so better say nothing at this point... I managed to smile and encouraged Mum to carry on.

"It was kind of strange, the timing of it, that is. George and I were going to Denmark anyway, and I was asked to sign the third and last time. Ulla, believe me it was hard. I could easily have refused to do it, claiming you myself. But I chose not to. A couple wanted to adopt you and give you a new life. A life I had been prevented from giving you, so who was I to deny you that opportunity, and more to the point; who was I to deny that couple the chance to fulfil their dream?"

I took a deep breath. "Mum, what were George's thoughts about all this, or did you not consult him?"

There was something here I didn't feel quite comfortable with, but what Mum said next put my mind to rest.

"Oh but I did. I can assure you that George and I discussed it in great detail. George so wanted to take you on, but at the same time, he also understood the implications for everybody concerned. It was a difficult time and a hard decision to make, but in the end I made the choice I thought was right. I'd already given you up almost two and a half years ago. A part of me argued that, who was I to interfere in your life all of a sudden, and the other part also told me that I didn't want to deny you the best opportunity in life."

Mum looked at me with a sad smile. "I don't know whether that will ever make sense?"

I smiled and nodded.

"Mum, lets not pursue this. I sort of understand that it was not a bad decision on your part at all. As you now know, I had a lovely upbringing at least up until my adoptive father died. But tell me what happened next? You and George had decided on marrying in Denmark and you were soon to go. Please, I can't wait to hear what's next."

Mum smiled and looked at me through a film of tears. "How can you be so understanding, Ulla? Well, let me have another cup of coffee and I'll tell you exactly what happened next. You may actually want another coffee or something slightly stronger."

I laughed. "OK, Mum, in that case I'll have a glass of white wine from the bottle we didn't finish yesterday. Do you want some?" Mum shook her head, and once I got my glass and another coffee for Mum, I settled in my chair ready to listen to what was next.

"The time soon arrived for me and George to leave for Denmark. We travelled by train and I still remember the bleakness of the post war Germany that was so much in evidence.

"My mother met us at Copenhagen Central Station. She lived nearby, and she soon settled us in. Everything went without any hiccups. I proceeded to the office to sign the papers about you, George never leaving my side. I dreaded it, but I will admit that once done I felt a strange sort of relief.

I swallowed, and took a sip of my wine.

Mum watched me as if to gauge my reaction, but as she saw none she continued.

"The day of our wedding arrived, and it was a lovely service at a small church just north of Copenhagen. Afterwards we went back to my mother's place where she had prepared a light buffet.

"The three of us stood in her living room where everything was set up for our wee celebration.
She turned around to get her glass, but as she turned back towards us, instead of a glass in her hand there was a letter. l frowned at my mother with a puzzled look."

"Elise," she said. "This is the last letter that arrived from that American lover of yours!"

I almost choked on my wine, and all I managed to say to Mum was an inadequate: "You are joking!"

To be continued.