Memories Are Made of This (31 page)

‘You mean women won't be satisfied with marrying, staying at home and having babies any more?'

‘Some won't,' said Jeanette firmly. ‘But I rather like the idea of running my own home and having children and bringing them up.'

David leaned towards her and kissed her cheek. ‘That's useful to know.'

Jeanette blushed and did not ask why. Somehow she felt certain that she would get to know sooner rather than later.

‘I've something to tell you,' said David, as they headed for the main road. ‘I've fixed it so we can spend a good part of the Christmas break together. I'm giving Mam and my aunt a two-night break in a hotel in Chester for their Christmas present. They're made up. They love Chester.'

Jeanette's face lit up. ‘That's great!' She hugged his arm.

‘Now your birthday—'

Her smile faded. ‘You'll be working.'

‘Depends on several factors, but I'll try and make it.'

‘I understand, but I was hoping we could go and see
Mad About Men
.'

‘Let's wait and see.' He smiled down at her. ‘And in the meantime, we'll make the most of this evening.'

To their surprise, when they came out of the cinema and were walking to the bus stop they saw Father Callaghan in conversation with a tramp.

‘I want to speak to the Padre,' said Jeanette. ‘I need to ask him a question.'

‘OK, but make it quick,' said David. ‘I don't want to miss the last bus after seeing you home.'

Jeanette tapped the priest on the arm and he glanced around. ‘Hello, Padre. I'm sorry for interrupting, but can I have a word.'

The priest excused himself and smiled at them both. ‘I see you found your friend, Jeanette. How can I help you?'

‘Have you had any luck in finding anything out about my mother?' asked Jeanette.

Father Callaghan hesitated.

‘Please, even if it's bad news, I must know the truth,' she pleaded.

He nodded. ‘All right. One of my contacts showed the photograph to a man he remembers being in the auxiliary fire brigade during the blitz. He's certain he recognized her. She was unconscious and filthy dirty when she was dug out of a bombed building. He spent some time waiting with her to be transported to Fazakerley hospital.'

‘Fazakerley!'

‘Yes. The Royal Southern hospital had been moved into its grounds in temporary accommodation because its building in Toxteth was being used for naval training, with it being close to the Mersey. So the wounded in Toxteth had to go to Fazakerley.'

‘We used to live just a short bus ride from Toxteth,' said Jeanette, trying to control her inner trembling.

Father Callaghan smiled kindly. ‘There you are then. Perhaps you'd like the photograph of your mother back? I've been carrying it around with me since it was returned to me.'

‘Yes,' she said. ‘I might have need of it myself.'

He fumbled in his jacket pocket and produced the envelope with the photograph inside. ‘You're very like her,' he said.

‘So my father says. Thank you, Padre.'

‘Now if you'll excuse me,' said Father Callaghan.

Jeanette turned to David. ‘I thought I was prepared for such news, but I wasn't. Look at my hands!'

She held them out to him and he saw that they were shaking. He took the photograph and pocketed it before taking one of her hands in his. ‘Let's go.'

As they waited at the bus stop, he said, ‘I suppose you'll be wanting to visit Fazakerley hospital as soon as you can?'

‘I'm not sure. The records for the Southern might be back there now. I'll speak to Dad. It's possible it's one of the hospitals he checked out when he was trying to find her.'

‘Makes sense.' He put his arm around her shoulders and looked down at her with concern. ‘You OK now?'

‘Sure. At least Mam was still alive when she was taken to hospital. Even if she died later, she might have come round and managed to speak to someone.'

‘Maybe. But best not to play guessing games.'

She agreed.

They were both silent on the bus, busy with their own thoughts. When they arrived outside her front door, Jeanette asked was he going to come in?

‘No, I have to get back. Hopefully I'll see you on your birthday. I'll get a message to you by the same method as before.' He lowered his head and kissed her. ‘Goodnight.'

‘Goodnight, David,' she whispered.

He nudged her lightly on the chin with his fist and then turned and walked away.

She was about to knock on the door but it opened and her father stood there. ‘Come in, luv,' he said. ‘Enjoy the film?'

She nodded and followed him inside, wondering how to broach the subject of her mother. Maybe she should leave it until the morning? She did not want him to have a sleepless night. So she asked if Ethel had said anything more about the man she had supposedly married, and where and when the wedding had taken place.

‘She's not saying, luv,' said George. ‘Sam and I tried to get it out of her but she sat there looking smug until in the end our Sam upped and left the house. He still hasn't come back.'

‘Maybe she'll tell us tomorrow,' said Jeanette.

‘No, I don't think she will, luv,' said George with certainty. ‘She kept saying, “Wait until the film comes out”.'

Jeanette had another restless night, and she wished Hester was there so she could talk over all that was bothering her. She fell asleep just before dawn and so overslept. When she went downstairs about ten o'clock there was no one there, so she could only think Ethel had nipped to the newsagent's and Sam and her father were on duty. She poured cornflakes into a bowl before switching on the wireless. In front of her she placed her mother's photograph. What were the odds that someone would remember Grace if she had still been alive when she reached Fazakerley? It was not as if it was just down the road, but up from the docks and on the other side of Liverpool, not far from Aintree race course. She felt depressed, wishing someone would come in so she could talk to them about this. But not Ethel. She wanted Hester but was unsure exactly when she planned to arrive home, so decided she might as well get on with peeling the vegetables for dinner.

It was not until four o'clock that George came in. Jeanette and Ethel had eaten their Sunday dinner, having decided it was no use waiting for the two men. ‘No Hester yet?' he asked. Having changed out of his uniform into tweed trousers, checked shirt and a Fair Isle pullover, he was now sitting at the table.

Jeanette shook her head. ‘Sam's not in either.'

‘He could be anywhere. I'm not worried about him,' said George, folding the Sunday newspaper and then propping it against the teapot. He picked up his knife and fork and read whilst he ate his meal.

Jeanette went upstairs to get her clothes out ready for work in the morning, thinking she would talk to her father later about her mother. But when Hester had not arrived by seven o'clock, George went to the front door and looked out.

‘Any sign of her, Dad?' asked Jeanette from the top of the lobby. She hoped everything was all right with her sister.

‘No. I think I'll walk up the street. You put the kettle on. She'll be ready for a cup of tea when she gets here,' said George.

‘I'm not exactly sure when she said she'd be home,' said Jeanette. ‘She was going to see Myra Jones. Still, I'd like to come with you for the walk.'

She told Ethel, who was in the parlour rooting through drawers in the sideboard, where they were going. She hardly seemed to hear her and Jeanette wondered what she was looking for but left her to it. She put on her coat and scarf and left the house, linking arms with her father as they walked up the street. ‘I've something to tell you, Dad,' she said.

‘What's that, Jeannie?' He gazed down at her from his great height.

She told him about giving the photograph to Father Callaghan and what he had said to her last evening. She watched his expression change to incredulity and waited for him to speak. ‘You've done more than I would have given you credit for, girl. What's the next step, that's what I ask myself?'

‘The hospital records, Dad?'

He shook his grizzled head. ‘No, I'd like to speak to the man who identified her from the photograph if possible. There's always more a person knows than he actually realizes. Could be, though, that I'll have to leave it until after Christmas.'

‘OK, Dad, you're the policeman,' said Jeanette.

They had reached Breck Road and now stood on the corner looking in the direction of the bus stop. After three buses had come and gone with no sign of Hester, George said, ‘You go back, luv, before you catch cold. I'll stay a bit longer.'

‘No, I'll wait with you, Dad,' said Jeanette, huddling into her coat.

They waited another quarter of an hour in silence and then it began to rain.

‘Let's go home,' said George heavily. ‘It's possible she might have come West Derby Road way, despite it being longer, and she's waiting for us at home right now.'

She wasn't.

But they had not been in the house long when Sam turned up. Immediately Jeanette grabbed hold of him. ‘Our Hester hasn't arrived home yet. D'you know if she's on an early shift in the morning?'

Sam's cheerful expression was replaced by a frown. ‘I can't remember. But there's no need to start panicking. If she's gone to visit Myra Jones and she's on a later shift, she might have been invited to stay the night and will come back in the morning.'

‘That makes sense,' said Jeanette.

Sam exchanged looks with his father, who still seemed worried. ‘I don't like it. I'm sure she said that she'd be home this evening,' said George.

‘She's a grown woman, Dad,' said Jeanette.

‘Yes, look at Dorothy. She goes all over the country and doesn't come to any harm,' said Sam.

Jeanette thought he looked quite cheerful when he said that and was tempted to ask if he and Dorothy had solved their differences.

‘Perhaps you could phone the conference centre and see when she left, Sam?' said George.

‘D'you remember the name of the place?' asked Sam.

Jeanette said, ‘I remember her showing me a leaflet. Maybe she wrote it down somewhere and it's in her room.' Without wasting time, she hurried upstairs, spotted the leaflet on the floor and ran downstairs with it.

Sam took it from her and gave it a quick perusal. ‘I'll go and ring them from the telephone box.' He added as an afterthought, ‘It's time you got a telephone put in, Dad.'

Jeanette and George waited impatiently for Sam's return and she filled in the time by telling him about David's mother and aunt going to Chester for Christmas, and asked would it be all right if he had Christmas dinner with them? He nodded, but she guessed he was only half listening.

Sam arrived back just over half an hour later and his expression was grim.

‘What's wrong?' asked George, turning pale.

‘She left yesterday,' he said, shrugging off his damp overcoat. ‘I'm hoping that she went to stay with Myra Jones a day early. I did ask whether Hester had given a reason why she was leaving early. The receptionist said no, but she did add that Hester had asked about one of the other guests, Cedric Dobson, that morning. When she told her that he'd left earlier in the day, Hester appeared shocked.'

‘That name seems familiar,' said George.

‘He's trouble,' said Sam tersely, and proceeded to tell his father that Cedric was being investigated.

Listening intently to all that was said, Jeanette broke into the conversation. ‘But if they left separately, I can't see how there's any need for us to be worrying about Hester. Maybe it was just the sight of him there that upset her and she decided that she preferred spending time with Myra. She'll either be home later this evening or tomorrow morning, you'll see.'

As if on cue, there came the sound of a key in the latch and the front door opening. ‘Hello, anybody at home?' called a familiar voice.

‘Hester!' Jeanette shot out of the room and flew up the lobby. She flung her arms around her half-sister. ‘We've been worrying about you. Dad got into a tizzy about you because he thought you should have been home by now. Then we discovered you'd left early and that Cedric had been at the conference. Are you OK?'

A shocked Hester dropped her holdall. She had been prepared to put on a smiling face for her family but now she felt all hot and bothered. How did they know about Cedric? ‘Jeanette, let me get through the door, I'm that tired, I don't know what to do with myself,' she said huskily.

Jeanette moved out of the way. ‘Did you go and see Myra Jones?'

‘Yes! She made me very welcome.'

Jeanette took a deep breath. ‘What's happened? How was the conference? Did you enjoy the special speaker or did Cedric being there spoil it for you?'

All sensible thought deserted Hester and she just stood there, staring at her half-sister. Then George appeared in the doorway of the sitting room.

‘What are you two talking about? If you're talking secrets, bring them out into the open,' he said. ‘This Cedric—'

Hester's face crumpled and she burst into tears. Instantly, her father put his arms around her, rocking her and whispering soothing words. ‘There, there, love, you're safe. You tell Daddy and he'll sort the bugger out.'

At any other time his use of a swear word would have shocked his children, but not now. Yet still Hester could not bring herself to tell him the whole truth. ‘He assaulted me, Daddy! He was so angry with me for finishing with him and got so drunk that he completely lost it.' She lifted her head and saw Sam standing behind her father, his face tight with fury. This time she addressed her brother. ‘He told me that his mother was dead! He called her a bitch! It was obvious that he hated her.'