A Hidden past

1. Saturday Ten AM

May 4th 2024

The unexpectedly loud ring of the doorbell. Made her jump slightly, recoiling in shock.

“Who the heck is that?” thought Kim Chapman, already making her way quickly across the lounge towards the front door.

After dodging Roger, her elderly Tortoiseshell cat, sat as usual in the middle of the hallway. She reached out to the door lock and sharply twisted it open.

“Miss Karen Chapman?” A refined baritone voice inquired. The owner was out of sight to the right of the porch.

She stepped outside, intending to advise the caller that her name was Kim, not Karen.

Kim slightly stumbled as she caught the heel of her shoe while stepping over the threshold. A capable arm reached forward to clutch her elbow and steadied her balance.

Looking up to thank her white knight for his help, she unintentionally took a sharp intake of breath. After finding herself confronted by a charming smile attached to a hunky man dressed in leather and denim. Slightly stunned by his good looks. It took a couple of moments to ask him the question that had recently come to her mind, “Karen Chapman?”

He held up a package, gripped it in one hand and politely offered it to her. “Sorry, I saw the initial K and assumed it would probably be Karen.” The courier shrugged and smiled once more, “My mistake.”

Kim nodded and hesitantly returned a smile. “Not a problem, it’s actually Kim.” She could feel this nagging feeling inside. “I have seen you somewhere before, haven’t I?”

“Probably,” he replied mysteriously and turned to walk back up the drive. Climbing a powerful antique motorbike and donning a helmet, he kicked down on the starter and roared away.

Standing slightly perplexed at his cryptic reply, she suddenly remembered the parcel in her hand.

Walking back indoors to the comfort of her leather settee, Kim placed the shipment onto the adjacent coffee table.

Based on its size, it appeared it was likely a large hardback book. She hefted it up to examine it closer.

Kim noted it to be relatively heavy, adding further credence to her assumption it possibly contained reading material. Upon checking the label, she noted that the name and address appeared handwritten. No return address appeared to be present. The handwriting itself was full of swirls and curls. This snippet suggests to her that the sender was conceivably a female.

The waxed brown paper packaging is stuck down with cheap transparent tape. “Oh well,” she wryly thought. “That rules out whether one of the global online shopping sites originally sent it.”

Kim hastily looked at her watch and took a sharp intake of breath. “Damn, I had almost forgotten — Maureen Hutchison has an appointment at ten-forty, and she always moans like hell if I am late.”

Kim snatched up her appointment diary and phone on her way. She seized her keys from the hook by the door and finally left the cottage.

✵✵✵

After missing lunch because of a succession of appointments following Mrs Hutchison. Meant Kim was now absolutely ravenous.

Slamming the car door shut, she opened the front porch. Pushing an indignant Roger, meowing loudly up against the wall.

Kim leaned down to fuss him, “You stupid cat, it’s your fault — you will always lie somewhere awkward in the hallway.” She lightly scolded him and then remembered the delivery she had abandoned earlier.

A few moments later. Kim snatched a packet of biscuits from inside the tin in the kitchen cupboard. Kim sat down on the settee, already nibbling at a digestive in her hand.

Unable to resist the suspense any longer. She tore at the wrapping paper, revealing what she suspected was a book.

To be more accurate, ‘a book’ would most likely represent an overstatement — It comprised an ‘A5’ ring binder, with protected sheets of paper nestled within.

“What the hell is this?” She thought to herself, totally surprised by the package and its content.

Kim turned the binder on the table so the rings lay at the top. She lifted the cover upwards, revealing a loose heavyweight paper sheet lightly folded in the middle.

Its contents were still not visible, only available after she had unfolded it. Now, revealing what appears to be, an old-fashioned birth certificate.

After reaching into the top pocket of her light blue smock. Kim slipped out a rounded pair of reading glasses and carefully positioned them on her nose and ears.

“Why on earth would anybody send me a birth certificate?” Kim thought, gathering it slightly closer towards herself for a better look.

Now intrigued, Kim sought the identity of whom the documentation belonged. Her eyes roved over the certificate until she found the owner's name. Kim raised an eyebrow in confusion, “Karen Taylor, I don’t know any Karen.”

Then it sort of made sense. As she suddenly recalled the parcel, it had arrived addressed to herself. The courier — Had distinctly asked for Karen and explained he naively assumed it was her name.

“Was it just a coincidence, or did he know more than he was letting on?”

She read a little further — and gasped. The date written on the certificate was her birthday.

Eager eyes darted all over the certificate. Following each line of text expectantly, hoping to discover anything at all.

That might explain the unknown reason; she, of all people, had received this conundrum.

Kim surmised if anyone else had received it. They would at least have received a written explanation of why the package was for them.

The father's name was Adam — and the mother’s Helen. 

Kim had nearly dismissed that fact as of no particular interest, but she couldn’t determine why something was still irritating her inside. She looked intently, once more, at both of their full names.

“Adam Bridges and Helen Taylor.” She took a sharp intake of breath. Other than the document revealing that the couple didn’t seem to have married — Kim had just spotted something glaring at her within the certificate.

She couldn’t believe what she had seen was just sheer coincidence. Kim bit her lip. Gran’s surname was Taylor as well.

Her tear ducts surged as she thought of her late grandmother, Angela.

Kim had spent most of her happy childhood holidays at Gran’s house.

When she was young, her mother and father were constantly busy, travelling and working in all corners of the United Kingdom.

They never explained their employment or the reason they were always unavailable. Kim would have done anything they had asked. Just so they could share her holidays as a family.

It was always the same routine at the term's end. 

Shuttling off to her Gran’s, on the first Saturday of the holiday. Then picked up again the following Sunday. Just before, the school term resumed once more.

Feeling a tickle on her cheek, Kim began wiping the corners of her eyes dry. With an ever-present paper hanky, strategically concealed up her sleeve. Kim let loose a long sigh, before resuming her investigation once more. 

Other papers comprised an intriguing mix of receipts. Combined with many handwritten letters and lists.

Each article is protected by a sealed clear plastic document sleeve, safely attached to the rings of the binder.

After carefully laying the documents, neatly down into a pile — to nestle onto the table once more. Kim sat back, deeply sinking into the folds of her comfortable settee.

Roger sensed an opportunity for a fuss. Deftly leaping onto her lap, purposefully nudging her elbow to garner attention.

Deep in thought, she unconsciously stroked Roger behind his sensitive ears. Sensing the incessant sound of his loud purring, finally brought her back from her mental deliberations.

“Well Roger,” she asked out loud. “What do you suppose I should do?” The cat continued to purr noisily, with no obvious intention to ruminate on her questions.

Unabashed, Kim continued testing his opinion — By pointing to the folder on the coffee table.

“Do I altogether forget the lot exists and hope it was a complete mistake? — What was the reason Kim Chapman ended up receiving it? Not somebody named Karen Taylor instead?

Maybe ‘motorbike man’ will knock on the door and announce he has to recollect it for the proper recipient?”

Kim looked at her cat, imagining his feedback.

Roger coughed slightly with a hairball irritating his throat. Interpreting his response as a probable negative answer. Instead, She offered, “Perhaps I should ask somebody else's opinion too?”

Kim thoughtfully considered her suggestion. “Hmm, That way — I suspect I wouldn’t feel so uncomfortable, after keeping it all to myself.

I could easily make far too many incorrect decisions.

By examining them with no external advice, I could easily come to wrong conclusions.”

Mind made up, feline heaven was about to end — As she picked up Roger by the scruff of his neck, depositing him unceremoniously back onto the uncomfortable wood floor.

Forging her way over to the traditional pantry, in the kitchen's corner. Kim extracted a large taffeta bag. Garishly decorated with the mural announcing, ‘I love cats’ faded on both sides.

Returning to the coffee table. She made certain that the plastic sleeves were folded into the binder. Before gently placing the whole thing inside the taffeta bag.

Kim picked up her mobile phone and pecked her fingertip at the touch-sensitive screen to compose a brief message.

To: Maria Lockyer: Kirstie Hanson: Nancy Myers

Subject: Need your advice?

Hi Hunny-Bunnies,

 I received a couriered parcel this morning and it contains papers and stuff. I am looking for a wise man, but can’t seem to find him. So you will have to do it instead! LOL. 

Are you all okay to meet at the library café in an hour? 

Let me know ASAP.

Xxx Kim.

She pressed the send button and leant up against the doorjamb waiting for a response from her dearest friends.

Three sets of ‘ping-ping’ on her phone arrived seconds later. Each reply displayed just a large letter, X, signifying their approval — prompting her to go upstairs to visit the bathroom for a quick shower.

Kim peeled off her chemical-stained smock and launched it into the clothes bin. She turned the shower head, already expecting a powerful jet of water. Happily, the young woman stepped inside, beginning to relax as the steaming spray struck her shoulders.

✵✵✵

After completing her ablution, she made her way to her wardrobe, pulling out a couple of smart blouses and a pair of casual slacks. Deciding the silky cream blouse went best with her shock of red hair, she dressed and began putting on her makeup.

Kim was glad when she reached her late teens and finally abandoned school. The ever-present calls of “Carrot head” and other derogatory titles were shouted wherever she went.

The cruel taunts eventually accumulated inside, causing combined stress and a lack of confidence. Eventually, it placed an unforgiving damper on her psyche.

Combined with the fact puberty had scarcely taken hold at the tender age of sixteen. Meant her boyish figure and angular facial features had only increased the volume of cruel harassment she had to endure.

It was only after she had connected with her crew while at college on her hairdressing course. That was when she began feeling more confident with her body and hair.

Raven-haired Maria Lockyer had been redoing her ‘A-levels.’ Trying to get higher grades in Maths and English.

To qualify and satisfy her employer, the local supermarket chain ‘Dingles.’ They were adamant she gained certain qualifications before they would even validate an application to become a Staff Supervisor. They have to be present before any internal training and placements can take place.

Kirstie Hanson shared the same ‘A-level’ classes as Maria. Naturally white-haired, now dyed a shade of red like two of her friends. Kirstie was preparing to become a Bank assistant at the local branch of ‘The Bank of Devon and Cornwall.’

Last, but not least — Kim’s ‘best of all best friends’ Nancy Myers — Infant School Teacher at St. Mary's and Whitelaw.

When they met, she was helping at college as a lab assistant. While waiting to receive her police check documentation. Before she can officially work with minors.

It had undergone an inordinate amount of time to process. She had practically spent an entire year at college before finally achieving full employment at St. Mary's and Whitelaw.

Nancy was practically Kim’s double, with naturally vibrant red hair — cut in a bob and a willowy figure to match.

Last year — The four of them celebrated after successfully achieving their qualifications. By sharing a two-week holiday, on the sunny beaches of North Majorca. Growing to know each other’s likes and foibles, while living together in a small villa, was an essential part of their bonding.

They had occupied all of their time together, until landing back home, without a single bad word being uttered in anger.

All four had therefore decided it was a sign — That wouldn’t be ignored. The entire experience culminated in a strong bond, and they have spent most days meeting together as firm friends ever since.

Pulling the stiff bristle comb down through her unruly hair one last time. Kim dabbed it and allowed herself a last look in the mirror.

Satisfied — she packed her phone and purse into an unusual green denim bum bag and suspended it over her left shoulder.

Taking the stairs down two at a time, she intercepted a disappointed-looking cat on his way in the opposite direction. Kim scooped him under his shoulders and deposited him onto the sofa instead.

Roger had been planning to console himself by sleeping on her bed. He had felt annoyed at having his ‘fussing’ aborted, disappointed for yet another puerile reason for it to stop.

After grabbing the taffeta bag from the table and lifting her keys from the hook by the front door. Kim got into her sporty Milano Red Honda Jazz and headed purposely towards the library café.

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