Where I Found You (34 page)

‘Is it too early?’ Maggie asked when the call was answered.

‘It’s never too early to hear from you, love. Is everything OK with the baby?’

‘Yes, everything’s fine, Dad,’ Maggie said, rubbing her stomach in curved caresses as she spoke. ‘I just had a few spare minutes and thought I’d find out how you are.’

‘Oh, we’re all fine and dandy. We get up, have breakfast, Jim goes out for a round of golf, I help Dot with the chores, we have lunch, we have a siesta, we have dinner and then Dot makes us watch the English soaps. We might have a game of cards and then it’s a nightcap and bed: nonstop excitement.’

Stan made the routine sound tortuous, but Maggie knew he was enjoying his new life, or at least as much as he would allow himself without the wife who had been the other half of his whole for the majority of his life. He would never acknowledge that life was good again, so Maggie had to read between the lines and find her own assurances. ‘Poor you,’ she said.

‘How’s the weather over there? It’s showing no signs of cooling down here yet.’

‘Oh, it’s teeming down as usual.’

‘Bloody British weather,’ he muttered and then yawned.

‘Don’t, you’ll make me start,’ Maggie said but she was already stifling a yawn.

‘Actually, you do sound tired. Are you sure everything’s all right?’ he asked.

Maggie leant back and tried to stretch some of the knots out of her spine. On the other end of the phone she could hear her dad shifting position and imagined him out on the veranda with his straw hat and a cup of tea. She had heard the telltale rattle of a cup and saucer, the whispered instructions from Dot not to let it go cold and then the occasional, satisfied slurp. The picture made Maggie feel strangely homesick, not for a villa in Spain but the Sedgefield terraced house she had grown up in.

‘I’m not sleeping too well,’ she said although she wasn’t about to tell him why. His reaction to her hopeless search would be the same as everyone else’s and she didn’t want another dose of realism. ‘It’s hard to find a comfortable position anywhere these days. I’m as big as a house.’

‘Whereas I could sleep standing up. Ah, you’ve just reminded me, I had a dream last night.’ He took another sip of tea and then said, ‘Your mum was in it.’

‘Do you dream of her often?’

Stan cleared his throat. ‘No, that’s the thing. This was the first one. I was watching the two of you laughing together.’

Maggie smiled as a hundred memories came flooding back from her childhood. ‘What were we doing?’

‘You were in the park, down by the lake.’

Maggie strained her ears as if she might be able to hear the sound of their laughter. What she did hear was a distant quack. ‘Feeding the ducks?’

‘No, you were too old to be feeding ducks, you were sitting on the bench talking.’

Maggie dug a hand into her pocket, slipped her fingers into a plastic bag and pulled out a crust. With perfect precision, she launched the bread into the air and it fell to the water with a plop. ‘I’ll never be too old to feed the ducks,’ she said with a smile.

‘You’re not there now, are you?’ An approaching family of ducks had given her away. ‘I thought you said it was teeming down?’

Maggie raised her head to the muted warmth of the mid-September sun. ‘Ever heard of an umbrella?’ she asked not wanting to give up the lie she had used to ease her dad’s homesickness.

Stan laughed. ‘Not for a while. But I don’t suppose there’s any point talking sense into you. You’re as stubborn as your mum.’

Maggie’s free hand had been resting on her stomach but only now did she feel brave enough to make contact with the past. As her fingers traced the surface of the bench she could read its history as if it was written in Braille. There were one or two deep cuts where someone had crudely carved out initials, and patches of chipped paint revealing hidden layers beneath, each one a differing shade. The latest layer was chocolate brown, she’d been told, but Maggie could remember when the bench had been painted a verdant green to match the moss that grew around the tree trunks, back when she could see with colours and not scent. She pushed her fingernails deep into the cuts and sliced into her own past.

‘Do you remember that time Mum padlocked your shed?’

‘I don’t know what she thought she’d achieve. I could hardly finish the decorating with all my tools locked away in there.’

‘And yet somehow she managed to get you to paint and decorate the kitchen in record time.’

‘Yes, she always got her way in the end,’ Stan said softly.

‘I hope I have half her determination,’ Maggie confessed. ‘I’m going to need it.’

‘You’re going to do just fine,’ Stan said, assuming innocently that his daughter would be concentrating solely on impending motherhood and not inveigling herself in other people’s problems. ‘Dot’s making all the arrangements and we’ll be over there as soon as you’ve had the baby.’

‘I can’t wait to see you all,’ Maggie said.

When the call ended, Maggie stayed where she was. Closing down each of her senses she detached herself from the present and waited. There was enough room on the bench for someone to sit on each side of her and it didn’t take long for the bench to summon up the ghosts of the past and give them substance. On her left, Elsa sat in silence, waiting desperately for that one last chance to see her baby. On her left sat her mum. She gave Maggie’s arm a quick squeeze. ‘Now is not the time to feel sorry for yourself, Maggie,’ she told her. ‘Don’t waste time grieving for the things you can’t do, get on and do the things you can.’

24

Sapped dry by autumn winds, the leaves above Maggie’s head rattled as she made her way through Victoria Park. She paused momentarily at the top of the slope that would take her down towards the lake but she didn’t give in to its pull.

‘Not today, Harvey,’ she said with only a faint hint of regret.

Maggie tucked her chin into her chest and fought against the biting wind as she carried on towards the main entrance gates and the High Street where they paused again. To the right, the road wended its way to the salon. Maggie turned left.

Harvey knew the route to Ted and Elsie’s house well enough, although they hadn’t visited for over a month; before her holiday; and before Elsie had gone on her own travels. She wondered how much had changed at the bungalow since then and she wasn’t looking forward to finding out. Ted was spending all his time at the care home, too intent on looking after his wife to consider his own needs, so there was little hope that he had kept up with the housework.

She had promised to be there by two, giving Ted enough time to return home after visiting Elsie. She arrived with two minutes to spare and dropped a heavy shopping bag onto the step to knock at the door. She had brought a hearty lunch for the two of them along with a selection of other dishes that would give Ted at least one substantial meal a day for the rest of the week. She had considered bringing some cleaning supplies too but there had only been so much she could carry.

‘Hello, you two,’ Ted said brightly when he opened the door. ‘Come on in out of the cold.’

No sooner had Maggie stepped into the house than Harvey bounded down the hallway, his claws scraping along the wooden floor before being silenced by the soft carpeting in the living room.

As she unbuttoned her coat and swapped pleasantries with Ted, Maggie was already trying to detect the telltale signs of the squalor she had expected but instead picked up the unmistakeable scent of lilacs. The image of Ted spraying his wife’s perfume to ward off his loneliness was too much to bear.

‘I’ll pop this in the kitchen,’ Ted said. He groaned theatrically as he tested the weight of her shopping bag. ‘You can find your way to the living room, can’t you?’

‘Of course I can.’ Maggie’s smile was tentative; she wasn’t about to be fooled by his false bravado. It was only when she walked into the living room and heard Harvey wagging his tail energetically that she realised it hadn’t been an act.

‘Hello,’ came a familiar voice.

Words completely failed Maggie as she quickly navigated her way across the room. When she reached the old lady, Elsie was standing up and ready to grasp her outstretched hand. They hugged each other desperately.

‘So do you like my surprise?’ Ted asked from the doorway.

‘Is this an official visit or is there a search party on your heels as we speak?’ Maggie asked, not daring to hope that this was anything more than a temporary reprieve.

‘It is official, but it’s not a visit. I picked Elsie up this morning and despite a lengthy debate with Carol, my wife isn’t going back to Sunny Days. Not if I can help it. Isn’t that right, love?’

‘There’s no arguing with him,’ Elsie confirmed.

It was the ache in Maggie’s cheeks that made her realise how broad her smile was. Elsie was back, in more ways than one.

‘Make yourself at home and I’ll put the kettle on,’ Ted said.

Maggie raised a hand in objection. ‘Oh, no, you’re not going anywhere until you tell me exactly what’s happened.’

Ted didn’t argue. He took the seat opposite while Maggie sat next to Elsie on the sofa, holding her hand and squeezing it as if to confirm that she really was there.

‘I only agreed to Elsie going into that place for respite but, as I expected, Yvonne was already making long-term arrangements. It’s taken me a while to get fighting fit but I’m back in charge now and I won’t hear another word said on the matter. She stays with me.’

‘I’m sure Yvonne was only doing what she thought was best, for both of you.’

‘I don’t need other people dictating what’s best for me,’ countered Ted.

Maggie could sympathise: she had been the victim of well-meaning interference often enough, but it wasn’t only Ted’s opinion that counted. ‘Elsie thought it was for the best too.’

‘Yes, she did,’ Elsie agreed, reminding Maggie that she was still in the room.

Ted sighed. ‘I know, love, and I think I’d say the same thing if I was in your position. No one wants to be a burden – but it’s not your choice and you’re not getting your own way this time.’

Elsie tutted but didn’t argue.

‘She didn’t belong in there,’ he said turning back to Maggie. ‘Don’t get me wrong, they looked after her well enough but … I don’t know, it was as if it was OK for Elsie to forget herself. No one cared whether she came back or stayed lost forever.’

Maggie ignored her first instinct to remind Ted that Elsie’s illness was progressive and eventually she wouldn’t come back, but of course he knew that. ‘So you brought her back here to you.’

‘Yes.’

‘I know you want to stay together for as long as you can but …’

‘No “buts”, Maggie,’ Ted said firmly. ‘I’m her husband and I have a duty to take care of her. It’s going to be tough but that’s what marriage is all about, the good times and the bad. I won’t abandon her to the care of strangers, even if she thinks I’m a stranger too.
I
know who she is, she’s my wife and her illness can’t take away my memories.’

As Ted gave his speech, Maggie gave Elsie’s hand a quick squeeze but rather than acknowledge the outpouring of love and loyalty, the old lady’s hand slackened. ‘And how about you, Elsie?’ she asked. ‘Are you glad to be home?’

‘Oh good, are we going home soon?’ she said.

Maggie turned back towards Ted and raised an eyebrow but he wouldn’t be challenged. ‘She’s better off here,’ he said.

‘I think I will have that cuppa now,’ Maggie said. The beaming smile had faded and she was making an effort not to frown.

The two women sat in silence for a while as Ted busied himself in the kitchen. Maggie was reluctant to speak because she didn’t want the confirmation that Elsie’s presence had been fleeting. Nor did she want to acknowledge the secret hope that Elsa might emerge like a ghost from the past to guide her along the trail that would lead to Tess, a trail that had gone distinctly cold. ‘Harvey’s missed you,’ she said at last.

The dog had been sitting in front of them, waiting quietly until his patience was rewarded with a rub behind the ear from Elsie. Harvey sighed before laying his head on her lap. ‘He should go back to Mr Woodhouse, he’ll be missing him.’

‘He looks quite happy where he is for now,’ Maggie assured her.

‘Tea’s up,’ Ted said as he returned to the room.

‘I was just saying that Mr Woodhouse will want his guide dog back. Do you think he’ll be all right without him, Ted?’

‘He doesn’t need him at the moment,’ Ted said as he put a tray down on the coffee table.

‘You will be able to cope, won’t you?’ Maggie asked in a low voice when Ted handed her a cup of tea. ‘Have you organised for the home help to come back again?’

‘I will,’ he said. ‘Once we’re all settled.’

‘How about the district nurse?’

‘Like I said,’ he replied patiently, ‘all in good time.’

Maggie wasn’t convinced and considered making the call to social services herself, stopping only when she recognised the parallels with her own life.

‘We knew a lady who was blind too,’ Elsie continued. ‘What was her name, Ted?’

‘That would be Maggie.’

‘Oh yes, Maggie, that’s it. She was lovely. I don’t think there was anything she couldn’t do; in fact, half the time you’d forget she was blind. She was having a baby last time I saw her. Did we ever find out what she had?’

‘She hasn’t had the baby yet. A few more weeks,’ Ted told her.

‘Ooh, that’s so exciting. Who’s her doctor? Tell her not to go to Dr what’s-his-name, Dr Hammond.’

‘Dr Hammond retired years ago,’ Ted told her gently.

The clatter of china was so loud it was lucky Maggie didn’t break her cup on the saucer. ‘You knew Dr Hammond?’

‘He was our GP for years,’ Ted replied. ‘In Liverpool.’

‘But he was Anne’s husband, the doctor we’ve been looking for so we can trace the baby,’ Maggie said, trying to sound calm despite her heart thumping against her chest.

‘Sorry, Maggie, but he couldn’t have been.’

‘But that was the name Elsie gave me. I’ve been searching for the Hammonds.’ Maggie was refusing to listen to what common sense was telling her until Ted spelt it out for her.