‘Aye, you’d just need to look at the nameplates on the street doors ... Bain! That’s it. Harry Bain – I knew it would come back to me.’
‘Thanks, Helen, at least that’s something. I’ll try Mrs Robb before I go home to Dad, and if I’ve no luck, I’ll go to see the Bains on my way to the country bus.’
‘Let me know if you find your mother, Laura, for she’s been on my conscience these years past. But I’m forgetting, how’s your father?’
‘He’s wonderful, considering. By the way, I may as well tell you – I’m going to marry a Norwegian sailor.’
‘I some thought that would happen, after Margaret said they’d had a visit from you. Her and Donald think a lot o’ your lad, and she said she’d had a long talk wi’ you.’
‘Yes, it was Margaret who set me straight. You’ve got a very good daughter-in-law, Helen.’
The woman smiled. ‘It’s two good daughter-in-laws I’ve got, for John’s married now, and all.’
‘I was really happy to hear about John. We both seem to have survived things pretty well, haven’t we. Well, I’d better go.’ Laura walked into the small lobby, and Helen breathed a sigh of relief when she closed the door.
Ann Robb shook her head. ‘No, I haven’t heard from your mother since she came here the morning she left home.’
Laura pounced. ‘She did come here? What did she say? Did she give you any idea of where she was going?’
‘No, I ... wait.’ Ann jerked up. ‘I reminded her about the money that was left in trust for her.’
Laura looked perplexed. ‘Money in trust?’
‘I suppose you were too young to remember, but when your grandmother died, her belongings were sold and the money put in trust for your mother, so she was going to Auchlonie when she left here, to see the solicitor. I don’t recall his name, but there would only be one in a place that size.’
Jumping up, Laura exclaimed, ‘Thank you, Mrs Robb, that’s the first lead I’ve got so far.’
‘Good luck, my dear, and I’d love to see her again, if you succeed in tracing her.’
‘I’ll succeed,’ Laura assured her.
When she told her father what Mrs Robb had said, he was delighted. ‘I’d forgotten about that money. It’s the first piece of the jig-saw, isn’t it?’
‘Don’t build your hopes up too high, Dad,’ she cautioned him. ‘It might be a dead end.’
David’s eager face fell. ‘Do you think the solicitor won’t tell you where your mother went?’
‘It’s not a case of not telling me, he probably won’t know where she went after she’d seen him.’
‘Did Helen know anything about her?’
‘No, but she did say that Mum had an aunt in Rosemount Viaduct, though it’s unlikely she went there.’ She told him why, because he was just as surprised as she had been that his wife had any relatives in the city. ‘I may as well go and ask the Bains if they know anything about Mum,’ she went on, ‘if I can find them. Helen didn’t know their number. If I get nothing from them, I’ll go to Auchlonie on my next pass. I haven’t time to go today.’
‘You’ll come home again soon, won’t you?’
A pang of guilt coursed through her at not having been in touch with her father for so long. ‘I’ve forty-eight hours coming up shortly. Now, what about something to eat?’
‘I’d nearly forgotten, I made a casserole. I hardly ever use up my meat coupons, so I was able to get a nice bit of steak down town yesterday for you.’
‘Are you a good cook, Dad?’
He gave a self-conscious smile. ‘I manage.’
Chatting over their meal, they gradually slipped back into the old loving father/daughter relationship, and by the time they were finished, she felt easy enough to tease him as she pushed her plate away. ‘That wasn’t too bad, Dad. It’s a bit better than I expected, anyway.’
David pretended to cuff her ear. ‘I thought it was cordon bleu standard, myself.’
Swivelling round, Laura stood up. I’m going to need all my time if I’m to stop off at Rosemount Viaduct. Do you mind if I don’t help with the dishes?’
‘No, that’s all right.’ He looked somewhat ashamed. ‘I’m sorry I’m leaving it all to you, Laura, but I couldn’t meet your mother again in a public place. I hope you understand.’
‘Of course I do, and I’m quite happy to act the detective. I’ve always fancied myself as a Miss Marple.’
His face holding a gleam of hope, David said, ‘Couldn’t we write to the solicitor? It would save time.’
‘It would, but we don’t know his name and address. Mrs Robb said there was likely only one in Auchlonie, but ...’
‘Whatever you think, then.’ He sounded disappointed.
Twirling her cap in her hands, Laura considered for a moment. ‘I think the personal touch would be best, and I want to see Mum’s reaction when she knows we want her home.’
‘I suppose you’re right. Well, good luck at your first port of call.’
Laura smiled wryly. ‘I’ll likely need all the luck I can get having to face the notorious Auntie Janet.’ Making a face, she slapped her cap on her head and picked up her respirator and haversack. ‘Cheerio, Dad. See you soon.’
‘As soon as you can,’ David murmured, ‘and don’t forget to write to let me know what this Janet says.’
To save fuel for the duration of the war, there was only a shuttle bus service to Mile End, so while Laura waited for the connecting tram, she crossed her fingers that she could find the people she was looking for, but she had to scan three sets of nameplates near the Co-operative bakery before she saw ‘H. Bain’. A pulse beat in her throat as she walked through the dark lobby and climbed the stairs to the first floor, and her hand trembled as she pushed the bell button.
A thin-faced, sharp-eyed woman opened the door a crack, her expression deeply suspicious. ‘Yes?’ she barked.
‘You won’t know me ...’ Laura began, hesitantly.
‘No, I don’t know you. Who are you and what do you want?’
‘I’m Laura Fullerton, Elspeth Gray’s daughter, and I ...’
‘Elspeth Gray?’ Her voice sneered now. ‘Lizzie wrote me years ago that she’d a grand-daughter, but you’re not the baby Elspeth was expecting when she was here.’
‘Look, Auntie Janet ...’
‘I’m not your auntie, and I don’t even consider myself your mother’s auntie – that was finished when ...’
‘Can I come in, Mrs Bain?’ Laura interrupted. ‘I don’t want to discuss this where your neighbours can hear.’
‘Whatever you’ve got to say, you can say it right there.’
‘If that’s what you want.’ The girl returned the frosty glare. ‘Do you know where my mother is?’
‘She’s walked out on you, has she? That doesn’t surprise me – she always took her own way without a thought to anybody else. I’ve no idea where she is, and what’s more, I don’t care.’
The girl’s hopes had plunged as soon as she saw the unpleasant face, but, thinking that Harry Bain couldn’t be as bad as his wife – nobody could – she made one last attempt. ‘Is your husband at home, please?’
‘My husband died two years ago.’ The steely eyes narrowed in self-pity. ‘I’ve had to do everything for myself ever since, and me so ill some days, I was hardly able to lift a finger.’
‘I’m sure it didn’t do you any harm.’ Laura couldn’t resist the jibe, and when the door slammed in her face, she stuck out her tongue. ‘Twisted old bitch!’
Too early for her bus, she sat for a good half hour in the Union Terrace Gardens, seething with anger at the reception she had received, and despondent because she was no nearer tracing her mother. But she still had to contact the solicitor in Auchlonie. He must know some-thing – he was her only hope.
Before she received Fridjof’s letter, Laura had fluctuated between imagining that something terrible had happened to him, and doubting if he had actually proposed at all.
‘Maybe he’s got a wife and kids in Norway,’ she had said to Betty Fry one day when she was feeling particularly low.
Betty, who had been thinking along the same lines, had nevertheless hastened to console her. ‘I’m sure he’d have told you if he had. Have patience.’
Laura tore open the envelope anxiously when it came. ‘It’s OK,’ she said, in great relief. ‘He’s still speaking about marriage, though he didn’t write himself. But this puts my mind at ease, because his captain would know if there was any reason why Fridjof and I shouldn’t be married.’
‘If any person present knows of any just cause,’ Betty intoned, ‘let him speak now or forever hold his ...’
‘When’s the wedding to be, Laura?’ Louise interrupted.
‘His ship’s coming to Aberdeen for a few days in January, and we can fix it up, then. Oh, God, that’s months yet.’
Betty looked sympathetic. ‘It’ll soon pass.’
Laura was looking longingly at the signature, the only thing her lover had written – a large scrawled ‘Fridjof’. Oh my darling, I love you, she thought, or as he himself would say it,
Min kjaereste, jeg elsker. ‘
This bloody war!’ she burst out, suddenly. ‘Keeping people apart like this.’
‘If it hadn’t been for the bloody war, you wouldn’t have met him in the first place,’ Betty reminded her, ‘but it’s bound to be over soon. I’d say the Germans are coming to the end of their tether.’
Cheering a little, Laura said, ‘Maybe it’ll be finished by the time we’re married.’
‘It’s going to be funny being back in civvy street,’ Betty remarked. ‘I’ll be five years older than I was when I joined up, and it won’t be the same. No excitement, no nothing except trying to find a decent job, or preferably a decent husband, to keep me in the luxury to which I have never been accustomed ... ho, ho! But you won’t have to worry about that, Laura, you lucky thing.’
‘Neither will I,’ remarked Louise. ‘Ernie proposed last night, and I accepted.’
‘Lep Wilson! Why didn’t you tell us when you came back?’ Betty couldn’t understand how any girl could have kept such exciting information to herself until the next morning.
‘I wanted to get used to the idea first.’ Louise smiled shyly. ‘Could we arrange a double wedding, Laura? That’s why I wanted to know if your Norwegian had set the date.’
‘What?’ Betty pretended to be horrified. ‘And do me out of a second chance to shine as bridesmaid?’
‘I’d quite like a double wedding, Lep,’ Laura said, ‘but I don’t know when or where ours will be. When depends on us both being available at the same time, and where depends on where Fridjof’s boat happens to dock.’
‘Oh, well, I suppose we’ll have to wait and see.’ Louise seemed rather disappointed.
Laura, who had been looking forward to penning her first love letter, felt depressed at being denied that pleasure, and it would be a long time before she saw Fridjof again. Could she survive months of worrying about him? And she still had to find her mother – that was a big enough worry in itself.
As soon as she was given the date of her forty-eight-hour pass, Laura wrote to David. ‘I’m off Saturday and Sunday, but I’ll go to Auchlonie before I come home, to save time. If I find out anything from the solicitor, I’ll go to wherever Mum is, but I’ll definitely be home that night, whatever happens, though it might be fairly late – or fairly early, if I’ve no luck. So keep your fingers crossed that Mum’ll be with me.’
On the Friday, she asked several RAF drivers if they were going anywhere near Auchlonie the following morning, but the nearest she could get was a lift from one who had to collect a senior officer from Keith railway station. It wasn’t ideal, but at least she could get a train there to take her the rest of the way, otherwise she would have to travel to Aberdeen and back, which would take much longer.
When she arrived in Auchlonie on Saturday, she approached the stationmaster first. ‘Excuse me, I’m trying to find a solicitor here, but I don’t know his name.’
The man looked surprised, but answered readily. ‘It’s Mr Reid you’ll be wanting. Turn left when you go out, carry on to the High Street and turn right. He’s a few doors along.’
‘Thank you very much.’
Walking purposefully to the exit, Laura’s mind was in a whirl. Was it left then right, or the other way round? No, it was the first way – left, right, like marching. She found the office with no difficulty, and asked the young girl at the desk if she could see Mr Reid.
‘Have you an appointment, Miss ...?’
‘Fullerton,’ Laura supplied. ‘No, I’m afraid I don’t have an appointment, but it’s very important.’ She tried to remain calm – or to give the appearance of being calm – but it was very difficult.
‘I’ll find out if he can see you.’ The girl disappeared through a door marked ‘Private’ and came back in a few seconds. ‘Go straight in, Miss Fullerton.’
‘Thank you.’ Laura’s legs were shaking as she walked into the solicitor’s private office, but she was immediately struck by the drabness of the room. Everything in it was some shade of brown, except the filing cabinet which was dark grey. The walls were wood-panelled halfway up and had been painted a fawny colour above that, but time and smoke had left their mark; the linoleum was brown, with several bare patches from the traffic of many feet; the huge desk was made of oak; the chairs were upholstered in dark brown leather. The only relief was provided by Mr Reid himself, a stout little figure with a bush of pure white hair. Above rosy cheeks, his bright blue eyes gave the same welcome as his smile. ‘You wish to consult me, Miss Fullerton?’
‘Yes ... no ... well ... not exactly consult,’ Laura stammered, not sure of what to say now that she was face to face with him at last. He was regarding her with some curiosity, so she tried to explain. ‘You see ...’
‘Are you Elspeth Gray’s daughter?’ he asked suddenly, and when she nodded in astonishment, he added, ‘You’re very like her. The spit and image of her when she was younger.’
‘It was my mother I wanted to ask about. Did she, by any chance, come to see you about three years ago?’
‘She did, and it was your name being Fullerton that first put me on to you, then the resemblance ... but that’s not what you wanted to know. She came to ask about the money that had been held in trust for her since her mother died.’
‘So I was led to believe. Was there enough to ...?’
‘There was over two thousand pounds, but she just took one hundred with her.’
At a normal time, Laura would have been more impressed by the total amount, but she was intent on her quest. ‘Do you know where she was going when she left here?’