Memories Are Made of This (21 page)

‘But . . . but she gave me cheek,' protested Ethel, shrinking back from him.

‘I bet you provoked her! Why can't you accept that you can't always have your own way in this house. Any more of this behaviour and you're out.'

‘You wouldn't,' said Ethel, blinking rapidly. ‘I'm . . . I'm an old woman and where would I go?'

‘The old people's home on Belmont Road,' said George.

Ethel drew in her breath with a hiss and Jeanette waited for the explosion of words. She was as shocked and surprised as her great-aunt by her father's threat and yet, at the same time, she was elated. ‘This family have never appreciated all I've done for it,' shrieked Ethel.

‘That works two ways,' snapped George. ‘It's time you showed some gratitude for what you have here. Now why don't you go and rest on your bed? It hasn't done you any good attending that funeral.'

She sniffed. ‘Perhaps I will go and rest, but it's cold up there.' She glanced down the stairs and saw Jeanette standing there. ‘Jeannie, you fill me a hot-water bottle. I think I've caught a chill standing at your grandmother's graveside.'

Jeannie bit back a swear word. ‘You don't give up, do you? I'll fill you a hotty because I want you to stay up there. But you can blinking forget about my being Lavinia Crawshaw's granddaughter because you're never going to be able to prove it!' She hurried into the kitchen and put on the kettle. She couldn't wait to tell Hester about all that had happened since she had arrived home that evening. She would be as thrilled as she was that the worm had turned at last and their dad had told the old witch just where to get off. Could be that bang on the head had affected him. She only hoped that he wouldn't have any more damaging side effects.

As Hester pedalled along Breck Road and turned at the church on the corner, she was thinking back to Sunday evening when Ally had seen her home. She wondered when she would hear from him again and wished that Wendy had not had to finish work after she married. She would have to arrange with her to meet up in a fortnight or so in order to catch up on each other's news. No doubt Wendy would have something to say about Ally, but she was bound to mention Cedric and ask whether Hester had seen him since the wedding.

She hadn't done so, but whilst she was out earlier that day, he had left a telephone message for her, suggesting that they meet on Tuesday outside the Forum cinema at seven thirty. Her first instinct had been to return his call straightaway and tell him that she couldn't make it due to work commitments, but she had been unable to use the telephone. Even if it had not slipped her mind later she would not have had time to try again. Besides, she was more interested in a poster on the notice board advertising a weekend conference on the ‘Psychology of the Murderer'. Apparently there were still a few places available and one of the speakers was her favourite crime writer; the venue was also in the Clitheroe area, not far from where she had been evacuated, and what clinched it for her was the opportunity to arrange to visit Myra whilst she was up there.

The front lamp on her bicycle lit up the gate post and she slowed to a halt. As she wheeled the bicycle up the path, she caught sight of someone silhouetted in the parlour window. From the shape of the outline she guessed it was Jeanette. A few moments later her supposition was proved right as her half-sister opened the front door.

‘You're home at last,' whispered Jeanette. ‘I've been waiting ages for you to come in.'

Hester's sharp ears caught the note of suppressed excitement in her voice. ‘What's up?' she asked, accepting Jeanette's help to lift her bicycle over the step and into the lobby.

‘First, Dad was hit on the head during a demonstration but he didn't go to the hospital. There's no need for you to worry,' she added hastily, hearing the sound of Hester's breath catching in her throat. ‘He's OK. Better than OK, actually, because he threatened Aunt Ethel with banishment to the old people's home in Belmont Road if she didn't behave herself. He's gone to bed and is sleeping.'

A weary Hester said, ‘Well, that's good to hear, but does he mean it? What did she do?'

‘She only nearly killed me.'

Hester's gloved hands slipped on the handlebars. ‘What did she do?' she repeated, aghast.

Jeanette grabbed the bicycle and leaned it against the wall. ‘Come into the kitchen and I'll tell you.'

‘You're OK, obviously,' said Hester, accepting a helping hand to shrug out of her greatcoat. She tossed her hat on the hook above and headed for the kitchen. ‘I take it there's no supper?'

‘I thought you'd have eaten in the canteen. D'you know what time it is?'

Hester yawned and sat down. ‘It seems ages ago since then and I've cycled home and worked up an appetite.'

‘Then I'll boil you an egg,' said Jeanette, taking one from the bowl on the windowsill. ‘The old witch nearly scalped me bald, as well as pushing me down the stairs. Fortunately Dad came thundering to the rescue.'

Hester expressed her horror and said, ‘She's losing her marbles. I've been called in on a few domestics, and what you've told me is as bad as any between a married couple.'

‘Thank God I'm not married to her,' said Jeanette, grinning. ‘But I've more to tell you.'

Over supper, Jeanette told Hester what she had found out about Lavinia Crawshaw as well as everything else that had happened that evening. Hester stared at her with growing incredulity. ‘She has definitely flipped her lid if you ask me.'

Oddly, Jeanette felt a vague disappointment. ‘You don't think there could be any truth in it?'

Hester spluttered as she took a mouthful of cocoa and had to pause to mop up the mess before saying, ‘You can't believe her! I mean . . . wait a mo, what is it precisely you're asking? About your mother leaving a note or whether she's the illegitimate daughter of Lavinia Crawshaw?'

Jeanette said slightly dreamily, ‘There's something to be said for being the granddaughter of one of the suffragettes. She must have had guts to be prepared to go to prison for her beliefs.'

‘I wouldn't deny it, but she must also have been one of those suffragettes who resorted to violence to be put in prison four times. Anyway, setting that aside, the conclusion you have already reached is that a pair of green eyes doesn't constitute proof.'

Jeanette blinked and sighed. ‘OK. So the note . . . do you believe Mam left one?'

‘No.' Hester sipped her cocoa. ‘Now let's forget all this and just hope Dad will have no further ill effects from that clout on the head. It's time you were in bed. Are you working in the morning?'

Jeanette nodded and rose to her feet. ‘Any news of Cedric?'

Hester stood up. ‘He telephoned the station and left a message.'

‘Did he want you to meet him?'

‘On Tuesday outside the Forum,' said Hester. ‘I was going to telephone and say I couldn't make it.'

‘Oh! Has this anything to do with the soldier you met at the wedding?'

‘You could say he has something to do with it, although he's gone back to his unit and I'm not sure when I'll see him. We had planned to meet again.'

‘So what are you going to do? Just not turn up at the meeting place? I'm sure Cedric will get the message.'

‘That would be bad manners,' murmured Hester. ‘Maybe I'll meet him this one last time and tell him it's over.'

‘He'll want to know why,' said Jeanette. ‘Are you going to tell him the truth?'

Hester shrugged. ‘I'll play it by ear.'

Jeanette hoped that all would go well with the new bloke, and then put Hester's affairs out of her mind, thinking instead whether she should do anything more to discover what had happened to her mother. Should she put a notice in the
Echo
? Maybe it would be best to wait. Having made that decision she went to bed.

‘Those sticky buns look nice,' said a familiar voice.

Jeanette turned back to the counter and stared at Maggie. ‘Hello! You on your own?'

‘What does it look like?' said Maggie, shrugging slender shoulders clad in a woollen check coat with a fur collar.

Jeanette looked behind the other girl to the jukebox and was pleased to see Irene with a black-haired youth. ‘I see Irene's here. Who's the lad she's with?'

‘Tonio Gianelli. They've known each other since they were in nursery together. His stepmother organized one in her house during the war and for a while after.'

‘I've heard of his stepmother! She's the sister of a priest I know.'

‘Father Callaghan!' Maggie nodded her head sagely. ‘Tonio was actually born in Italy but his father's half-English. Tonio has a gorgeous voice and plays the guitar. His stepmother plays the piano and his father sings. They're a real musical family and attend the opera at Verona when they go over to Italy. She has a much younger half-brother living there. My cousin Betty will be visiting them when she studies art next year.'

‘How lovely! No twins meeting you here today?'

‘They're both busy.' Maggie rested her elbows on the counter.

‘So what can I get you?' asked Jeanette, knowing that Peggy was going to be disappointed.

‘I'll have three buns, two coffees and one tea,' said Maggie.

‘You're not watching your weight today then?' asked Jeanette.

Maggie froze. ‘What does that mean?'

‘Nothing.'

‘So you're not saying I've put on weight?'

‘No! You've got a good figure. You have nothing to worry about. Go and sit down and I'll bring your order over.'

Maggie did not budge, but watched Jeanette as she executed the order. ‘You've met our Betty, haven't you?'

Jeanette nodded.

‘How did you find her?'

‘OK!' Jeanette's face lit up. ‘I've found out something that you could pass on to her if you would.'

‘What's that?'

‘My half-sister, Hester Walker, remembers her half-sister, Emma, from when she was evacuated to Whalley during the war.'

Maggie stared at her. ‘You're kidding!'

‘No. Hester attended the same school as her whilst she was living with a couple called Jones. I think the woman was called Myra.'

‘I'll tell her.' Maggie turned away and went over to a table by the window. Jeanette watched a moment, aware with half her mind of the jukebox playing Rosemary Clooney singing ‘This Ole House' as Irene and Tonio joined Maggie.

Immediately Maggie began to talk to Tonio whilst Irene gazed out of the window with a moody expression on her face. When Jeanette went over with their order, she asked after Jimmy.

A fleeting smile crossed Irene's face. ‘He's OK, just been making me feel a bit of a heel. Mam wants us all to go to her brother's house for Christmas this year, but Betty has asked me to a party at her flat on Christmas night. Mam hasn't been well lately and he thinks I should do what she wants and go with them. I'm really torn. He knows that Betty will probably be in Italy next Christmas, so this one is special.' She sighed. ‘I suppose it'll all sort itself out.'

‘Can't you do both?'

‘No, if we visit my uncle's it'll mean driving there and staying overnight. Anyway, what are you doing for Christmas?' she asked brightly.

‘Nothing special that I know of,' replied Jeanette. ‘Like millions of other women I'll be helping get dinner on the table.' She placed the bill on a saucer on the Formica table top and walked away, wishing her life was a bit more exciting.

She was glad when the afternoon came to an end and wasted no time in pocketing her wages, putting on her outdoor clothes and leaving the milk bar. There was a sharp wind blowing as she turned the corner into Renshaw Street and hurried down to Quiggins, hoping she would find Peggy's brother, Marty, in the shop.

She pushed open the door and immediately recognized him, despite his having his back to her. He was of stocky build and had a shock of blond hair that was styled in the fashionable Tony Curtis cut. She cleared her throat and he turned to face her.

‘Can I—' He paused and stared hard at her from pale blue eyes. ‘I've seen you before. Aren't you our Peggy's mate from work who got her into trouble?'

‘I didn't get her into trouble,' retorted Jeanette indignantly, remembering catching sight of him the evening Peggy had damaged her foot at the Grafton. ‘It was that mate of the bloke she was going out with that caused the trouble. Anyway, that's water under the bridge now.'

‘Let's hope so. What can I do for you?'

‘I want you to give Peggy a message.'

He rested an elbow on the counter, placed his chin in his hand and smiled. ‘What kind of message, kid?'

‘I want her to meet me outside Reece's at seven o'clock this evening.'

His expression sharpened. ‘Why? Where are you going?'

She sighed. ‘It's really none of your business.'

‘Are you meeting fellas and going to the dance there?'

‘No!'

His eyes narrowed. ‘I don't know if I believe you.'

‘I'm telling you the truth. We'll probably just go to the pictures. I'm not saying I wouldn't prefer going out dancing with a couple of fellas,' she mused, ‘but there you are, Robert Taylor and Tony Curtis can't make it tonight.'

He smiled unexpectedly as he straightened up. ‘I can see why you were at the centre of a fight. You have spunk. Are you doing anything next Friday night?'

‘What!' Jeanette could not believe her ears. ‘Are you asking me out?'

‘What's wrong with that? Think you're too good for me?'

‘No, but I'm a Proddy, you know.'

‘So? I'm not planning on marrying you. My ma would have a fit if I brought a Protestant girl home.'

‘Good.' She hesitated. ‘I'd rather not go out with you, thank you.'