Lost & Found (21 page)

Mavis was still in a dreadful state and Jenny wasn’t sure what to do. She’d looked after James and Grace for five days now, glad to have been able to help, but her cousin was arriving tomorrow and would need the spare room. Grace was sleeping in there at the moment, while James was in with her son, Greg, the two boys getting on well together. Grace, however, was a different matter and even if she wanted to, Jenny knew she couldn’t squeeze the child in with them.

‘I want to go home,’ Grace appealed.

‘Soon, darling,’ Jenny placated, ‘and anyway, it’s nearly time to fetch James and Greg from school.’

This seemed to satisfy the child and Jenny sighed with relief. Grace became fractious when James was in school and Jenny had done the best she could to keep her amused. Though the weather was cold they went to the common every day, the
child happy to play on the swings or go to the pond to feed the ducks.

Yet it wasn’t a fractious child that worried Jenny. It was James, and the bruises she had seen on his body the first night he’d come to stay. She had no problem with a child being given the occasional smack if they were very naughty, but this was far worse and looked more like a beating.

Jenny bit on her lower lip. She couldn’t just leave it, allow this to continue, and somehow had to raise the subject with Mavis. She would have to wait as Mavis wasn’t up to it right now, but Jenny loathed the thought of James going home to face more abuse.

A knock on the door startled Jenny out of her thoughts and, seeing that Grace was intent on dressing her doll, she left her there while she went to answer it.

‘Mavis, come in,’ she invited. ‘How are you?’

‘I felt like the walls were closing in on me and had to get out of the house, if only for a little while. Not only that, it’s time I took James and Grace off your hands.’

‘Are you sure?’ Jenny asked. ‘What about…well…the…’

‘Funeral,’ Mavis finished for her, eyes dark with pain. ‘For once, Alec has been marvellous. With my mother in Peckham it’s difficult, but when
Alec suggested it she agreed to leave all the arrangements to him.’

‘Mummy!’ Grace shouted as she ran along the hall.

‘Hello, darling,’ Mavis said as she swept the child up into her arms.

‘Can I come home now?’

‘Yes, pet,’ Mavis said, hugging the child to her.

‘Would you still like me to collect James from school?’ Jenny asked.

‘Yes, if you wouldn’t mind. I know I have to pull myself together for the children’s sake, to get back into some routine, but somehow I’m finding it impossible.’

‘Mavis, it’s early days and though you’re taking Grace home now, why don’t you leave James with me? He’s no trouble and I know Greg loves having him here.’

‘Thanks, Jenny, you’ve been wonderful. I don’t know what I’d have done without you, but Grace wouldn’t settle without James.’

With her cousin coming, Jenny knew that she no longer had room for Grace, and with no other choice she murmured, ‘Yes, I suppose you’re right. Why don’t you come through to the kitchen, though I’m afraid I haven’t time to make a cup of tea.’

Mavis put Grace down, but the child still clung to her hand as they walked along the hall. ‘I know,
and as I told my mother-in-law I wouldn’t be long, I’ll have to get back in a few minutes.’

‘How is she?’

‘Not too well and in a lot of pain, but she’s kinder these days so that’s something.’

‘Can we go now?’ Grace asked. ‘I want to see the sad man.’

‘Oh…oh…’ Mavis gasped.

Jenny could see that Mavis was close to breaking down and took over. She crouched down in front of Grace, saying softly, ‘I’m afraid the man has gone, darling. He had to go to a place called heaven, but now that he’s there he won’t be sad any more.’

‘Can I go too?’

‘One day I’m sure you will, but not yet,’ Jenny said, hugging Grace to her as the child’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Anyway, what about James? He’d miss you if you went away. Mummy would too, and Daddy.’

‘What about Granny? Can I go to see Granny?’ Grace said, pulling away from Jenny’s arms.

Mavis had somehow managed to pull herself together and, sweeping Grace up again, she said, ‘I don’t suppose you mean Granny Pugh, but your other grandma will be coming to see you again on Saturday.’

‘That…that’s not the day of the…?’ Jenny asked, again failing to utter the word ‘funeral’.

‘No, it’s just a visit and a chance to talk over what arrangements Alec has made.’

Jenny glanced at the clock. ‘I’m sorry, Mavis. I’ll have to go. It’s time to pick the children up from school. I’ll drop James off with you and then sort out their things to bring round later.’

‘Thanks, Jenny,’ Mavis said as Jenny put on her coat.

Together they walked to the front door, Grace clinging on to her mother like a limpet as they went outside.

Jenny called a quick goodbye as she hurried off, regretting the fact that she hadn’t been able to talk to Mavis about the bruising she’d seen on James’s body. She feared for the boy, dreaded him returning home, and knew she would have to talk to Mavis as soon as the funeral was over.

When Pete arrived home from work he found Lily sitting by the fire, her hands resting on her stomach. ‘Hello, love.’

Her eyes looked glazed as she turned her head. ‘Pete, I didn’t hear you come in.’

‘You were miles away,’ he said. Lily had been the same since Ron’s death, distant, remote, as though a part of her had died with him. Pete was sure that it would pass, that if he was patient, caring, Lily would turn to him again.

When Lily did talk, she avoided mentioning
Ron and instead it was always her daughter. Pete had always suspected that Mavis was bright, and now that Lily knew that too she was racked with guilt, saying what a rotten mother she’d been. He knew she wanted to make amends, to see more of Mavis, and hoped she’d be over the moon with his purchase.

Lily stood up now, avoiding his eyes as she said in a dull tone, ‘Dinner’s nearly ready.’

‘Leave it for a minute. I’ve got something to show you. Come with me.’

Her brow creased, but she followed him to the front door, and throwing it open Pete said, ‘What do you think of that then?’

Lily looked at the small, white van parked outside, and then at last met his eyes. ‘Is it yours?’

‘Not mine. It’s ours. I thought it was time for a bit of transport and it’ll fill two roles. I can use it for work, and it’ll come in handy to run you back and forth to see Mavis.’

‘Oh, Pete,’ she gasped, fighting tears as she stumbled back to the kitchen.

‘Lily, what’s the matter? I thought you’d be pleased.’

‘I am, Pete, honestly I am.’

‘Why the tears then?’

‘’Cos I know I don’t deserve you, that’s why.’

‘Don’t be soppy and, anyway, the van isn’t the only
surprise. I’ve arranged for us to have a telephone installed.’

‘A telephone? But why?’

‘It’ll be another way to keep in touch with Mavis.’

Lily surged to her feet, throwing herself into his arms. ‘Oh…Pete…Pete.’

He held her, letting her cry, feeling her vulnerability. Lily still showed a hard front and rarely broke down, but it had cracked now. It didn’t matter. He’d be there for Lily and would shore her up for as long as she needed him.

Mavis heard Alec come in, his routine different now. Instead of going straight in to see his mother, he now came to the kitchen first and she braced herself for his kiss. He was trying, she knew that, his manner kinder, but for Mavis it was too late. Her father’s death had acted as the catalyst that opened her eyes. If he hadn’t disappeared she would never have married Alec. She had used him as a means of escape, had allowed herself to be led into it by her mother-in-law, but really there was nobody to blame but herself. She had been stupid, naïve, had felt so worthless that she’d let both Alec and his mother dominate her and the children.

‘Hello, my dear, how are you feeling?’ Alec asked as he strode over to kiss her cheek.

‘I’m all right,’ she said, trying to avoid flinching at his touch. Yes, she might only have herself to blame, but if Alec and his mother had acted differently, she may have found some happiness. Oh, they were trying now, both of them, but it didn’t fool Mavis. It was fear, that was all—fear that she would leave. If only she could do just that, release the bonds, but with no income of her own, and nowhere to go, Mavis knew she was trapped.

‘Hello, James. Hello, Grace,’ Alec said.

‘Hello, Daddy,’ they chorused as Grace leaped to her feet to throw her arms around her father’s legs.

‘Drawing again, I see,’ he said. ‘I think we have an artist in the family.’

James had remained sitting, and it didn’t surprise Mavis. Alec had always favoured Grace, and she was rarely smacked; her daughter was shown far more affection than her son.

‘Look at mine, Daddy,’ James appealed.

‘Not now, James. I must pop along to see your grandmother. I hope you’ve been good and haven’t disturbed her.’

‘He hasn’t,’ Mavis insisted through clenched teeth. Never again would she allow James to suffer at his father’s hands. She might have to stay with Alec, but he and his mother would find that if they reverted back to normal, she would no longer stand for it.

She’d been a meek and biddable idiot, but no more. If not for her own sake, then for James’s, she had to change, and in doing so maybe, just maybe, life in this house would be bearable.

The funeral was sparsely attended, with just Mavis, Lily and Pete along with a couple of old neighbours from Cullen Street.

Lily ignored Kate Truman and Olive Wilson as she clutched Pete’s hand on one side and her daughter’s on the other. Alec wasn’t there. He’d had to stay at home to look after his mother and the children, but Lily had to admit that her son-in-law had come up trumps with the arrangements. The coffin was nice, and the beautiful spray of white lilies on the top looked lovely, but she’d felt awful that Pete had been the one to bear most of the costs.

The service ended and Lily dreaded going to the graveside. When they got there it was as much as she could do to stay on her feet, barely aware that Pete was holding her up.

‘Ashes to ashes and dust to dust,’ the minister intoned as Ron’s coffin was lowered.

Lily drew in great gulps of air, but at last it was over and somehow she managed to steady her shaking legs. She saw Olive Wilson looking at her, disdain in her eyes, but quickly averting her face Lily reached out to touch her daughter’s arm. ‘Come on, let’s go.’

They turned to walk away, but Kate Truman moved to stand in front of them, saying softly, ‘Hello, Lily. I’m sorry for your loss.’

‘Yeah, well, Mavis told me that you found Ron and took him in for a while so I’ll thank you for that. Now if you’ll excuse me,’ she said, almost dragging Mavis away, but not before Olive Wilson’s words reached her ears.

‘I don’t know how she’s got the cheek to play the grieving widow.’

‘Olive, shut up,’ Kate hissed. ‘Now’s not the time.’

Lily’s jaw was clenched, determined not to give Olive Wilson the pleasure of a reaction. Back straight, she walked away from the graveside and to the car.

Edith endeavoured to sit upright, but it was proving impossible, the pain across her shoulder blades excruciating.

Alec came in and seeing that she was struggling he moved quickly to help her. ‘Mother, why didn’t you call me?’

‘I was about to,’ she said as Alec placed pillows
behind her back. ‘Thank you, that’s much better. The children are quiet for a change.’

‘They know better than to misbehave when I’m around.’

‘I should think Mavis will be back soon and, now that the funeral is over, things can get back to normal.’

‘Mavis is finding it hard to cope with her father’s death. I doubt she’ll be back to normal for some time yet.’

‘I meant the routine of the house, Alec.’

He moved to the window. ‘There’s the car now.’

Edith pursed her lips. No doubt Mavis would invite her mother in again. She just hoped the awful woman wouldn’t stay for long. She heard their voices but, instead of going along to the kitchen, Lily Jackson poked her head in the door.

‘We’re back,’ she said.

‘Yes, I can see that,’ Edith said abruptly, annoyed when Lily then walked fully into the room.

‘Mavis is making us a cup of tea,’ she said, taking a seat without invitation, ‘but then we’ll be off home. Now that we’ve got a van we’ll be able to drive over to see Mavis and the kids every week. On top of that, we’re getting a telephone so I’ll be able to ring her every day to see how she’s doing.’

Edith heard the implied threat and her jaw
clenched. It was the last thing she wanted, but somehow Ron Jackson’s death had brought Mavis and her mother closer.

The door was pushed wider and Grace came running into the room. ‘Gran,’ she cried, scrambling onto Lily’s lap.

‘Hello, sweetheart,’ Lily said, wrapping her arms around Grace.

Alec appeared, his expression one of annoyance. ‘Grace, I told you not to disturb your grandmother. Now come back to the kitchen.’

‘I dunno which grandmother you’re talking about, but she’s fine with me,’ Lily said. ‘What about you, Edith, is she disturbing you?’

‘I do have a bit of a headache.’

‘Come on, Grace,’ Alec insisted.

The child looked sulky, but did as she was told and Edith heaved a sigh of relief that there wasn’t a tantrum. Not that Alec would stand for it, of course, but she couldn’t say the same for Mavis.

‘It’s funny,’ Lily mused. ‘I ain’t great with kids, but Grace seems to have taken to me.’

‘She’s wilful and needs discipline.’

Lily’s eyebrows shot up. ‘She doesn’t seem wilful to me.’

‘How would you know? You’ve hardly seen the child.’

‘Yeah, but that’s gonna change.’

‘I do
not
like disruption in my house. If you
want to visit, please make sure that you give us advance notice.’

Lily’s face reddened, but then Mavis came in carrying a tray with the tea things on, Pete behind her with a plate of sandwiches.

‘Thanks, Mavis, but I’ll have mine in the kitchen,’ Lily said. ‘I’m finding it hard to breathe the sour air in here.’

‘Yes, do that,’ Edith snapped. ‘It’ll be nice to be left in peace.’

Mavis looked bewildered, but as her mother marched from the room she followed her, asking, ‘Mum, what’s the matter?’

Edith didn’t hear Lily’s reply and, anyway, she didn’t care what the woman had to say. This was
her
house—and she intended to keep Lily Jackson out of it as much as possible.

Pat Higgins had stood well back from the mourners, but as soon as the coast was clear she went to Ron’s grave. When he went missing she’d been frantic, but though she’d searched the area there’d been no sign of him. She’d tried the hospitals, and had even ventured into the police station, but as a well-known tom a fat lot of good that had done her.

It had taken her three days to remember Ron’s letter, one he’d given her to post some time ago. Ron knew he was ill, had wanted to contact his
wife again, but Pat hadn’t posted it. The last thing she wanted was his flaming wife rushing to his side, pushing her out and taking over. She would have taken Ron back to London, nursed him better, and Pat would never have seen him again.

No, Ron was hers, but even as this thought had crossed her mind Pat knew it wasn’t true. She and Ron had been together for years, but he had never stopped talking about his wife and daughter, always on about how he’d get on his feet one day, save up and go back to them.

Pat looked down into the black chasm, barely aware that two men were waiting to fill the hole with soil. When Ron had given her the letter, she’d stuffed it in her handbag, intending to destroy it like the previous ones, but it had made its way to the bottom of her bag, forgotten under all the paraphernalia she always carried.

She had searched for her old handbag and found it in the bottom of her wardrobe, the letter still there. Her eyes had fixed on his wife’s address, unable to believe that Ron would have had the strength to travel to London.

‘I shouldn’t have done it, Ron, but I couldn’t help myself,’ Pat said, still looking down into Ron’s last resting place. ‘I opened your letter, and, oh, Ron. Why didn’t you tell me?’

Though hardened from her years on the game,
Pat couldn’t hold back a sob of anguish. If she had posted the letter, there would have been nothing to fear. Ron hadn’t begged his wife to come, and there’d been no return address. He’d just asked that she forgive him, told her that he would never be able to change, but that he had found a woman who loved him as he was. He told his wife that he wouldn’t be coming back, and urged her to find love and happiness with someone else, just as he had.

Another sob escaped Pat’s lips. It had been one sentence that had left her sitting on the side of the empty bed, clutching the letter, reading it over and over again. Ron had found happiness and love with someone else! With her! He had found it with her!

She had to see him, had to find him, but after a few more days of fruitless searching, Pat began to wonder if Ron had somehow made it to London. He was dying, he knew that, yet had a desperate need to see his wife somehow given him the strength to make the journey? He didn’t have a penny, but with trucks leaving the docks regularly, had Ron managed to appeal to a driver with a kind heart and cadge a lift?

When there was no sign of him locally, Pat had made the journey to his wife’s address, only to be told that Lily Jackson didn’t live there any more. The woman who now rented the house was happy
to gossip, and how Pat had remained on her feet when told that the man who used to live there had recently died, she would never know.

It hadn’t been hard to find out about the funeral, taking only a few calls to local undertakers, and now, lifting her hand, Pat threw a single red rose onto Ron’s coffin. ‘I was too late, Ron. I wanted to hear the words, wanted you to tell me that you love me, because only then would I have believed it was true.’

Pat blinked away tears then, desolate as she walked away. Yes, she had read his letter over and over again, finally understanding why Ron had written it. He knew he could never change, that he would never be any good to his wife, his love so deep that for her sake, he wanted to set her free.

‘Oh, Ron, yet you were never free of her, were you?’ Pat whispered. The final proof lay in the journey. Only a deep and abiding love could have kept him going long enough to get to London to see his wife, and somehow Pat was glad that he’d made it.