The mother who gave away THREE babies by knocking on the doors of total strangers and the astonishing heartwarming story of how the siblings were reunited after 60 years

Rosemary Redmayne in 1948 with a baby that she kept. She rejected three of her children, handing them to strangers

No one will ever know what went through the young mother’s mind as she knocked on doors, begging strangers to take her three-month- old daughter.

It was the summer of 1946 in the Potteries village of Bucknall.



She was turned down twice before the third stranger agreed to take her baby in.

At which point Rosemary, then 28, promptly disappeared to fetch the baby’s few belongings from her lodgings around the corner.

It was a brutal — some might say callous — parting, which would have far-reaching ramifications.

‘I was that baby,’ says Rita Holford, who 67 years on is visibly shaken by the very thought. ‘To this day I can’t get over being given away like that — and by someone who went to great lengths to ensure I would never find her.’

Even more shocking is the fact that Rita was one of three unwanted babies — dubbed Rosemary’s Secrets — rejected by the same woman within seven years.



And it seems all three were abandoned in the same manner — by their mother banging on strangers’ doors until someone took in the babies.

Though Rita has uncovered many clues — including the fact her mother also had two daughters she decided to keep — Rosemary’s motivation remains a mystery: what possessed her to just give away three of her five children?

We know she was a barmaid brought up in Northumberland.

She had jet-black hair and loved dancing. We know she was married at least twice. We know her maiden name was Redmayne and her first married name was Tweddell.



She moved from lodging to lodging in the Potteries. And that’s it.

‘When I discovered the story I was so angry about it all,’ says Rita. ‘Then when I later find out I had two brothers I felt angry for all those wasted years when we didn’t know each other. It seems so unfair.’

All this would be inconceivable in today’s era of adoption agencies, vetting by social workers and criminal records checks.



But just after the war, simply giving a child away was a fast solution for a desperate woman gambling that a bonny baby would stir maternal instincts in a stranger with the means to feed and clothe her.

John Askey, Rita Holford and Michael Moss were abandoned by their mother when they were babies. They were finally reunited 60 years on

Fortunately, Rita found herself in a warm, loving family. ‘My mother, Lily, may not have been the woman who gave birth to me, but she was wonderful,’ says Rita.

‘She dedicated her whole life to bringing me up.’

Lily Corden, a factory worker, was married to Harold, a bus driver, and they had a 15-year-old son when Rita entered their lives.



Lily told friends that she didn’t hesitate when Rosemary came to her door, attracted by the beautiful, bouncing baby in her arms.

It may seem astonishing that she welcomed a new arrival with such a calm, matter-of-fact attitude — but it’s entirely in keeping with her character. For she and her husband created a blissfully happy home for Rita — until 11 years on, tragedy struck when Harold, then 54, died of thrombosis.

It was then that Rita discovered she had been adopted. ‘I was watching my mother go through insurance papers when I spotted a paper headed “adoption”,’ she says.

‘As soon as she saw me trying to peek, she snatched it away. But I sneaked back into the living room when she went to work and found my adoption certificate. It was incredibly shocking.

‘Though I knew the papers must be telling the truth, I couldn’t believe I was adopted by this woman who had taken such wonderful care of me.’

'As John and I sat on the sofa holding hands, I learned he had not been as lucky as Michael and me. Born Thomas, his first family had abused him nearly to the point of starvation...' Rita Holford, one of three siblings abandoned by their mother



Such was her surprise that she decided not to confront her mother ‘because I couldn’t bear to hear her tell me I wasn’t her child’.

Three years later, Rita was visiting an elderly family friend with her mother in tow when the old lady asked: ‘Isn’t this the girl you adopted?’

Rita says: ‘The room went silent then and everyone pretended she hadn’t spoken. Then we all started talking about something else.

‘Later, when I brought it up, Mum started to cry: “I always thought your father would tell you about it.” I could see it would upset her terribly to continue the conversation so I dropped it.’

Sensitive to her mother’s obvious fragility, Rita made a discreet plan of action. A few weeks later, she delicately slipped the subject into conversation with a neighbour, who confirmed the adoption and also revealed the existence of a sister.

‘She told me there was a little girl with Rosemary when she knocked on the doors. I was overjoyed, imagining us being happily reunited,’ says Rita.



But she was never brave enough to discuss her abandonment with her mother, terrified of how upset she became when the subject had come up.



Unwilling to hurt her mother’s feelings, she kept her curiosity to herself.



She broke just once. Aged 21, when she held her first newborn child, Nicola, in her arms, she asked her mother: ‘How could any woman give away a baby?’

Her mother’s reply was short, the tone choked with emotion: ‘Well, she just did.’

Nearly 50 years passed before Rita felt able to try to make contact with her sibling, who was 11 years her senior.

In the meantime, she had married twice: first to Barry, the father of her daughter Nicola, now 46; and then to Garry, a mechanic, with whom she had two children, Gina, 36, and Garry, 35.

‘I had moved away from Bucknall for a while, but we eventually moved back,’ says Rita. ‘I soon got talking to neighbours who remembered my past — I wanted to know more.’

So she began searching ancestry websites, desperately hoping to find out more, using the name she had seen on her adoption certificate.

Her first discovery was that her mother Rosemary had died 15 years before. She admits the revelation left her strangely cold.

‘I didn’t feel anything much about her being dead,’ says Rita. ‘But I managed to find her address and went to see the house where she had lived, as it was only in the next village, Blurton.

‘I knocked on the door of the neighbour to see if she remembered Rosemary, and she told me: “Yes, and her daughter lives around the corner.”

‘She pointed out a little house in the cul-de-sac and I nearly died — I had found my elder sister! I couldn’t stop myself from knocking on the door there and then, but she wasn’t in.

‘As soon as I arrived home, I wrote her a letter, explaining who I was and stressing I didn’t want to upset her, but was longing to meet her and find out everything I could about our mother.

Rita pictured at 18 months in 1948. She was taken in by Lily Corden, a factory worker, and Harold, a bus driver, and they had a 15-year-old son when Rita entered their lives

‘After a fortnight, I had still heard nothing. So I wrote one more time. A few days later she left a message on my answering machine. My heart was pounding as I dialled the number.

‘I could hardly get my words out in excitement as I introduced myself, but all she said was: “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to go any further.”

‘I begged her to tell me whatever she knew about my mother, but all she would say was: “She was just an ordinary woman.” That was the end of our very brief conversation.’

Bitterly disappointed — ‘It was like being rejected all over again’ — Rita nevertheless felt driven to learn more.

‘I went to the local library archives,’ she says. ‘I found out Rosemary had married again and had another daughter, Carol, two years younger than me.

‘I was overwhelmed and excited that this time I might get lucky. I bought Carol’s marriage certificate, which confirmed we had the same mother.’

This time, Carol phoned after receiving a letter from Rita and agreed to pay her a visit. ‘I was so nervous, changing my clothes several times, pacing up and down the house,’ says Rita.

‘When she was finally there on my doorstep, I had the shock of looking at a younger version of myself, with the same jet-black hair.’

The sisters approached each other cautiously, however, as Rita admits: ‘We didn’t hug or even shake hands.’

With so many emotions fluttering under the surface, the women began to look at old photographs.

‘What was really shattering was to see the picture of Rosemary for the first time,’ says Rita. ‘Carol told me: “You look more like her than me or my elder sister. Even your hands and your mannerisms are the same.”

‘That made me feel odd. And it upset me seeing photos of Rosemary holding Carol, who she had kept.



How could she possibly have given me away when she must have held me the same way? Carol said our mother was a happy-go-lucky, fun-loving woman who enjoyed dancing — but she had no idea why I’d been given away.

‘When she talked to our elder sister, she said she remembered that happening, but insisted she didn’t remember any details.’

Rita had gained a sister — but she was left with many questions. They consumed her for months, but she never imagined the result of her labours would be two brothers who had been abandoned as well.

Rita found a vital clue when she had discovered Rosemary’s death certificate in 2009, which showed her first married name, Tweddell, and her maiden name, Redmayne.

The following year, she found records for a Robert Tweddell born five years before her in nearby Leek.

Michael Moss, born Robert, pictured aged three. He had also been taken in by a warm, loving family

‘It is such an unusual surname that I felt compelled to pursue it. His birth certificate showed the same false maiden name she’d used on mine: Rosemary Purvis.

‘And though I could hardly believe it, a couple of weeks later I found a younger brother — born Thomas Tweddell, just 17 months after me, and only 13 months before Carol.

‘It was a huge surprise to discover my mother had given birth to three of us in barely more than two years.’



Though Rita’s children feared her brothers might not want to know, her husband supported her quest to find them, at considerable cost.

Having already spent hundreds of pounds on birth, marriage and death certificates and website subscriptions, Rita scraped together a further £1,000 to employ a private intermediary, After Adoption, to make contact.

She had explored every state archive available to her — now she needed professional help. ‘It was a lot of money, but I couldn’t bear to go through life without meeting them.’

It worked. And in October 2010 Rita’s life changed forever, with the news both brothers longed to have her — and each other — in their lives.

‘First to write was Robert, whose name had been changed to Michael. He told me how surprised he was to hear about me, having only recently started trying without success to find his family.



'He said he couldn’t wait to meet, and my husband drove me over to his house soon after.

‘From the minute I walked through the door, we had tears in our eyes. Here was a brother who really wanted me in his life.

‘Champagne was produced, we exchanged childhood photos and he told me he had also been brought up by loving parents, and had a career as a chartered accountant.’

John pictured age 5. Born Thomas, his first family had abused him nearly to the point of starvation

There was more to come. It was another week before the agency tracked down John, who lived in Northampton, and a few weeks later he paid Rita a visit.

‘We decided to meet before we got together with Michael, because otherwise it would all have been a bit overwhelming,’ she says.

‘I couldn’t wait for the car to arrive and as they got out I saw John’s wife, Penny, had tears in her eyes, and so did I.



'As John and I sat on the sofa holding hands, I learned he had not been as lucky as Michael and me. Born Thomas, his first family had abused him nearly to the point of starvation. Another family had taken him in aged three and renamed him John.

‘What was really agonising was to find out he had lived near me all the time he was growing up.

‘We must have gone to the same pubs and clubs, being so close in age, and certainly went to the same shops.’

In November 2010 the three siblings who had been given away as babies sat down together for the first time in their lives at Michael’s house.



Rita says: ‘We had an early Christmas dinner with all the trimmings to celebrate our new family. Since then we have had many meals together, and often Carol comes along, too.

‘Astonishingly, Carol and I discovered our daughters once worked on the same hospital ward, and one used to give a lift to the other without any idea they were cousins.’

However, it is the three who were given away who share the closest bonds.

‘We often talk about the fun we’d have had as children together, John and I tormenting Michael, no doubt, and all the fun we missed.’

Happy as they are today, they long for the final piece in the puzzle to be fitted in place by the one sister who wants no part of her secret siblings.

‘She is old enough to remember Michael being born when she was six. And surely she was old enough to remember the details of how John and I, born in rapid succession within 17 months of each other, came to be given away when she was 11.

‘You would think our elder sister would want to put the record straight about our mother, because having three unwanted children, possibly with different fathers, between one marriage and another makes Rosemary sound like a woman who made a lot of bad mistakes.

‘It may be that Michael, John and I have the same father — but no father’s name was recorded on our birth certificates.’

Rita lives in hope that her elder sister will relent or that other Redmaynes — Rosemary’s real maiden name — living in the North-East could shed light on her secrets.

Until then she insists she and her brothers won’t waste tears on the cruel mysteries of their past.

‘Our message is that it’s never too late to find family, not even after 60 years,’ she says.

