Home Is Where the Heart Is (27 page)

‘I care for you too,’ she said, responding to his next kiss with happiness soaring through her, so that she guessed he must be able to hear the rapid pounding of her heart.

He grinned at her, his eyes twinkling with delight. ‘That’s good to hear, and there’s something else I need to tell you, but the show’s about to start so we’ll talk about it later.’

Sitting cradled in his arms, she enjoyed every moment of the show, marvelling at actually seeing this beautiful actress, made famous by her role in
Gone with the Wind
, performing here in Manchester in a play directed by her husband, Laurence Olivier. She daren’t ask Steve how much he’d had to pay for the tickets, hopefully not too much as they were pretty well up in the gods.

As they walked home together, still with his arm around her, she said, ‘So what was it you wanted to tell me?’

Steve met her questioning gaze with a slight frown, and then glanced around at the empty street. Giving a dismissive little shrug, he said, ‘It can wait. Let’s not spoil the evening by going over more depressing stuff right now.’

‘I’m aware that Alex was arrested and later released, if that’s what’s worrying you, as Mam told me.’

‘That was a bit of a blow, I will admit.’

‘How can we possibly prove him guilty without any evidence?’

Steve was silent for a moment then gathering her hands in his, gave them a gentle kiss. ‘Don’t worry, if it’s at all possible we’ll find a way. I’ll visit that Mr Cartwright again, as soon as I have time. The fact is I’m going off on teaching practice for the next two weeks, so I’ll be working round the clock and won’t be able to see you as much as I’d like, so do take care, love. I don’t want anything to happen to you, or for you to forget me,’ he softly added.

‘I won’t ever do that, Steve.’

‘I’m delighted to hear it,’ he said, drawing her into his arms for a goodbye kiss.

Letting herself back into the flat, Cathie was astonished to find her mother lying in bed with little Heather by her side, both of them happily wrapped up together and fast asleep. How amazing was that?

C
athie had never felt so happy in her life before. A part of her did worry that Steve might still be keeping some secret from her, if only because of the number of times he’d let her down without an explanation. But it was certainly true that however much she might have imagined herself to be in love with Alex, her feelings for Steve were a thousand times greater. Their friendship had turned into something far more wonderful and exciting. So if she wasn’t yet entirely convinced that he felt the same way about her that was no doubt as a result of the problems Alex had caused her. And both of them had felt equally cautious at first, but now they were together and she felt delighted about that. As always she went to see her Aunt Evie, keen to give her some happy news for a change.

‘I think I’ve been in love with Steve for ages but didn’t dare admit it, even to myself, let alone to him,’ she laughed. ‘Wasn’t that silly of me?’

‘Oh, I know all about such feelings, love,’ her aunt said with a smile. ‘Donald and I were like that once, childhood sweethearts who became absolutely inseparable over time.’

‘Had I realised sooner how I truly felt about Steve, everything could have been so different. I might have spared myself all the distress I suffered with Alex.’

‘That wasn’t your fault, love, it was the war. Donald too is a changed man. He sleepwalks and suffers from dreadful nightmares, sadly no longer the gentle, quiet man I married. As for my girls, I can’t seem to get back to the closeness we once enjoyed either, as they aren’t prepared to share their personal problems with me. It’s as if I’ve become a stranger to them.’

‘Oh, Aunty, that’s so sad. You were always such a good mother to them, and to me too in a way. Mam and I have always been a bit like strangers, although things are improving between us, at least I hope so.’ Cathie told her how they sometimes met up to walk in the park, or by the canal. ‘She’s even showing some interest in little Heather, at last,’ Cathie said, smiling down at the toddler who was trotting round after her aunt’s tabby cat, pausing to give it a stroke as the pussy rubbed against her plump little legs.

‘I saw Rona the other day and she couldn’t stop talking about the child. She sounded entirely smitten. I’m sure your problems will resolve themselves in time.’

‘I do hope so. It just worries me sometimes that if push comes to shove, she’ll side with Alex, and not me.’

‘It’s a funny old world right now, every family in a bit of a muddle.’ Returning to her own problems, Aunt Evie went on to describe how being evacuated had disrupted her two daughters’ sense of belonging, as well as more
practical issues such as their education. ‘And young Danny has taken up with a gang of lads I really don’t approve of at all.’ She let out a heavy sigh. ‘It’s going to be difficult to wean them all back home, in more ways than one.’

‘I’m sure you’ll succeed in the end, Aunty. Meanwhile, I would love to find a home of my own. I’m very happy sharing a flat with Brenda, but it can’t last forever. Have you any idea where I might find one?’

‘Not offhand, but I’ll keep my eyes and ears open in case I learn anything. I’m so glad you’re happy at last. Steve sounds like a lovely man.’

They chatted for some time about various possibilities, including some prefabs being built locally, before returning yet again to Evie’s family problems. And as her beloved aunt already seemed to have enough to cope with, Cathie couldn’t quite find the courage to reveal her worst suspicions. Alex might, in any case, be perfectly innocent and Davina’s death an accident, so she really had no right to make any accusations against him without proof. Besides, it was surely time to put all of that behind her, and just be happy and delighted that she and Steve were a couple at last.

Back at the flat Cathie found a bunch of red roses lying on the doorstep and her heart leaped with happiness. ‘Oh, thank you, Steve darling,’ she cried, picking them up. Cathie struggled with the key to let herself in, with a
shopping bag hanging on her arm and as always Heather propped astride her hip. The toddler had long since grown bored of being stuck in the pram, although Cathie always kept her firmly attached to a harness or she tended to run off giggling. Having taken it off and settled Heather down in her cot for a nap, she went to find a vase and fill it with water. As Cathie set about arranging the flowers she found a small envelope attached. Smiling to herself, she pulled out the card.

‘
Here is a small gift just to prove how much I miss you. Love, Alex.
’

Her heart almost stopped beating. She’d assumed these were from Steve. What on earth was Alex thinking of to be sending her flowers? Their relationship was over, had been for some weeks now. Cathie shivered as she glanced about her, then ran to the front door to make sure that she’d remembered to lock it after her.

Goodness, no, she hadn’t, probably because she’d had her arms full of little Heather, as well as the flowers and shopping bag. It was as she turned around to go back to the kitchen that she heard the sound of crying coming from the bedroom across the hall. Running to the door, she was shocked to see he was actually there, leaning over the cot stroking the toddler’s fluffy hair. ‘Is she having more bad dreams, poor lamb?’ he asked, beaming at her.

Cathie felt shock explode within her. ‘Alex!’

He laughed. ‘Surprise, surprise. You could at least say hello. Never mind, lovely to see you too, sweetie. ’

‘What on earth are you doing here? You and I split up some time ago, so you really have no right to just walk in uninvited.’

His smile now was patient and loving. ‘Oh, dear, have I done the wrong thing? The door was open and I thought you’d be pleased to see me, since I’d sent you that lovely bouquet. You do like roses, don’t you?’

‘Of course, but not from you, not any longer.’

He looked somewhat crestfallen by this remark, then, giving a little sigh, said, ‘I do understand your reluctance to welcome me, but I just popped in to apologise for what I did to this little one. And to let you know that it was your mother who insisted I write to the orphanage. It wasn’t my idea at all.’

Could that be true? Rona freely admitted that she’d never been particularly maternal, but had given no indication she would ever do such a thing. Quite the opposite, in fact. And now she’d thankfully fallen under little Heather’s spell and adored her almost as much as Cathie did. ‘I don’t believe you. Please leave.’

By this time Heather was screaming at the top of her lungs and Cathie felt desperate to run and gather the child in her arms, but fear prevented her from taking one step into the bedroom while Alex occupied it.

‘I needed you to know that I’m quite happy for you to keep this little mite. I love you, sweetie, and I’m sure that you still love me.’

As he again stroked the toddler’s head and Heather
shrieked, Cathie did at last take a step into the room. ‘Please stop doing that. She’s forgotten who you are and gets very upset by strangers, probably as a result of being taken away from me. I’d like you to leave
now
!’

He let out a heavy sigh, then came over to her and stroked her hair instead, his eyes glittering with desire. ‘If you insist. I know we’ve experienced some problems in the past, sweetie, but can we perhaps talk about the future?’

‘Not here. Not now!’

‘Then perhaps at the Pack Horse, or the Market café some time, whichever you prefer.’

He appeared to be making every effort to win her back with his charm, trying to convince her it was all about love, and not money. But how could she ever trust him again? ‘I’ll think about it,’ Cathie said, her heart beating like a drum as her nerves skittered.

‘Good. Then we’ll speak later.’ And, placing a tender kiss on her cheek, he gave her the kind of smile that would once have melted her heart before walking out. Within seconds of him leaving, Cathie ran to the door, slammed it shut and locked it, before racing back to pick up little Heather to give her a loving cuddle.

The very next day, she found yet another letter lying on the mat, delivered by hand as it bore no stamp. This too was from Alex, once more declaring his love for her. ‘
I
thought we could meet this evening at the Pack Horse. See you there at seven.
’

Never! Cathie thought, screwing the letter up and tossing it into the grate before she lit a fire.

The flat felt so empty and lonely without Brenda to talk to, and with little hope of Steve finding the time to call in any time soon. But she certainly had no intention of meeting up with Alex ever again. Even walking to work each morning with little Heather gave her a deep sense of unease in the pit of her stomach. She found herself constantly glancing back over her shoulder, quite certain she was being followed. Sometimes she would catch a glimpse of what might be the heel of his boot or flick of his raincoat vanishing up an alley, as if trying to hide from her. What had got into him? If it was indeed Alex who was following her, then he was behaving most oddly, which was certainly not the result of some supposed trauma suffered during the war. Not according to Steve, anyway, as Alex’s war might well have been boring but generally safe.

She found more flowers waiting on the doorstep on her return home, and yet more cards and letters lying on the mat over the days following, even the odd box of chocolates, all of which she threw in the dustbin. Far from feeling flattered by his attention, Cathie felt as if she was being mentally assaulted.

And she never forgot to lock the door ever again.

It was with great relief that she welcomed Brenda back home a few days later. Her friend listened with great
sympathy to the tale she had to tell. ‘Wish I’d been here, I’d have socked him one for daring to invade my flat,’ she spat. ‘Thank goodness you weren’t foolish enough to agree to meet him.’

‘I would never do that, although I could have kicked myself for being so stupid as not to make sure I’d locked the darned door. Won’t ever make that mistake again.’

They soon settled back into their normal routine, but it troubled Cathie that she still had the feeling she was being watched, and the letters, cards, chocolates or flowers continued to arrive almost daily. Brenda stuffed them all in a rusty old bucket by the front door.

‘At least then he can see that you want nothing to do with him.’

It was an even greater joy when Steve’s teaching practice was finally over, and the pair of them were able to sit enjoying a supper of corned beef hash together by the fire. Little Heather was fast asleep in her cot, and Brenda out with her new boyfriend, a young ex-serviceman she’d met at a dance.

Cathie loved listening to Steve’s amusing stories of how the young children in his class had behaved. ‘They are so lively and curious, interested in everything and constantly asking questions. One young boy asked: “How can the moon be made of green cheese if a man lives there?”’

Cathie burst out laughing. ‘What fun. It sounds as if you’ve enjoyed yourself.’

‘Oh, I have, Cathie. It was hard work planning all the
lessons and doing all the preparation and definitely a bit nerve-wracking when my tutor came in to check on my progress. But I loved every minute of it, as I’m very fond of kids. I’m quite sure I made the right decision to take up this teacher training. How about you? Has anything interesting happened while I’ve been away?’

Setting aside her empty plate, Cathie quickly related her own, far less amusing story. ‘Thankfully, I haven’t heard from Alex for a few days now. Nor has he sent anything recently, so hopefully he’s finally got the message. Brenda leaving all those supposed gifts stuffed in that bucket might well have done the trick.’

He was frowning, looking somewhat distressed. ‘We must do something about this. Now that my teaching practice is over I’ll have a bit more time to pay this Mr Cartwright another visit.’

As promised, Steve went once more to see Barbara Cartwright’s father, but was refused admittance by the housekeeper.

‘Didn’t he make it clear the first time that he has no wish to discuss his daughter’s problems. Please do not call again,’ she tartly informed him.

Steve put his foot in the door to prevent her from closing it. ‘I accept that Mr Cartwright may be angry or disappointed in his daughter, but the reason I need to speak to her is because she knew our friend Davina, who sadly
vanished from the Home. In fact Barbara may well be the last person to see her alive.’

The housekeeper appeared shocked by this, even more so when she heard the full story, carefully related with no names attached. Glancing over her shoulder to make sure she would not be overheard, she hastily whispered the sister’s address to him. ‘That’s probably where Barbara is living, but please don’t ever let Mr Cartwright know that you got this information from me.’

‘I won’t. Thank you so much.’

It proved to be an address in Ancoats, quite close to Castlefield, and Steve made it his next stop. What he learned from Barbara shook him rigid. First, that Davina had been evicted by her landlady and had written day after day to Alex and even his father while being kept in solitary by the nuns.

‘When finally he responded, it was then that we planned our escape. It turned out to be remarkably easy. But the minute we’d said our farewells and Davina dashed off towards the canal, I saw this piece of card blowing away in the wind. Realising it was the bit I’d torn off the packet of Persil washing powder, on which I’d written my sister’s address, I ran to grab it. By the time I managed to catch the darned thing and chase after her, she was already wrapped in the arms of her boyfriend, just by the bridge. I held back, hiding in the bushes, waiting for an appropriate moment to reveal myself, but then …’

Here she paused, sucking in her breath, her eyes
clouding over with a sickening horror before going on to describe how he had tossed the poor girl into the canal. ‘Just as if she were a rag doll he no longer wanted to play with.’

Steve uttered a silent curse under his breath.

‘I must have gasped or cried out because he spun around, his furious gaze scouring the towpath and banking. I’m afraid I ran away at that point, hell for leather. A cowardly thing to do, I know, but I was afraid that if I hung around, I might be next.’