Forgotten Dreams (39 page)
Next, she sniffed; what could she smell? Woodsmoke definitely, the loveliest smell in the world on an autumn afternoon, even when there was no sunshine and the wind was getting up. There was another lovely smell too, which made Lottie’s mouth water. It would be one of Gran’s marvellous stews. And now she remembered that Troy had gone to get potatoes since Gran was running out. Lottie looked down at her basket just as the freshening wind brought more nuts tumbling down, and the smell of Gran’s stew, brought to her by that same wind, made her scrabble hastily for the nuts. She was hungry, and once Troy had handed over the potatoes they would take old Champ out of the wood and into a meadow where he might graze until they were ready to move on. Lottie snatched up another couple of handfuls of chestnuts, swearing softly as she pricked herself on an obstinate husk. Then she hurried through the trees towards the delicious smell, enjoying the scent of the woodsmoke as it blew against her face.
Gran had chosen a clearing in which to light her fire and cook their meal, but to Lottie’s astonishment she was not alone. There was a woman with her, thin, elegant and, Lottie supposed, beautiful. But there was something in that fine-featured face, perhaps it was the set of her lips, which made her feel wary, so Lottie remained in the shelter of the trees, watching the scene before her.
The strange woman seemed to be doing all the talking, emphasising each point she made with a wagging forefinger, laying down the law, but at last Gran managed to interrupt. ‘How did you find us, missus?’ she broke in. ‘I’ve not been in touch for years, knowin’ you didn’t have much interest . . .’ Suddenly Lottie saw light dawn on the old woman’s face. ‘It were that newspaper chap, weren’t it?’ she asked. ‘He come when the farmer telled folk that an old woman an’ a couple o’ kids had saved his place from bein’ burned down. That’s right, ain’t it?’
There had been a dreadful thunderstorm, Lottie remembered, with lightning arrowing to earth and no rain as yet, and the three of them had seen the barn burst into flames as they came down a nearby hill. They had rushed to the farm, made the family aware of what was happening, and had helped to douse the flames. She remembered Troy saying that there had been an article in the paper . . . but what had that to do with this stranger?
Lottie went forward hesitantly, not liking to interrupt, but Gran surged to her feet as soon as she saw her. When Lottie was near enough, Gran drew her close and put an arm about her shoulders. ‘Good girl, Sassy. I see you’ve picked a mess o’ nuts. We’ll roast ’em over the fire this evenin’ ’cos I know you’re mortal fond o’ chestnuts.’
‘I do love ’em, Gran,’ Lottie, who was now Sassy, agreed at once. ‘But I thought you were goin’ to make that beautiful cake . . . I know it’s a lot of trouble but it keeps well, and . . .’
The woman interrupted, giving Gran a reproachful glance as she did so. ‘Sassy! My own dear little girl! I don’t suppose you remember me because it’s a long time since I came to see you . . .’
‘The best part of six years,’ Gran said belligerently. ‘And since Sassy had her sixth birthday back in the summer, it ain’t likely that she’d reckernise you, is it?’
The woman shot her a darkling look. ‘It’s not my fault that I haven’t managed to visit more often,’ she said defensively. ‘You were always following the fairs and circuses when I knew you first, so naturally I searched for you in Rhyl, Yarmouth, Scarborough . . . oh, all over. It wasn’t until I read the article in the paper that I realised I’d been on the wrong track all along. As for not coming to see the child, I don’t have the sort of job I can simply abandon whilst I go visiting, which is why I – I lost touch.’
Gran snorted. ‘I’m no hand at writin’, but for the first few years me grandson Troy dropped you a line whenever we moved on so’s you’d know where we was. Only you never replied.’
The woman coloured. ‘Well, yes, but I’m always busy; as I said, when you’re holding down a decent job you can’t just up sticks and leave ’em in the lurch. If I’d done that, I’d have been out of work in two shakes of a lamb’s tail, and the money would have stopped coming, which wouldn’t have pleased you, I’ll be bound.’
It was Gran’s turn to colour, but her face turned bright red, Lottie knew, from rage and not embarrassment. ‘What money?’ she asked derisively. ‘Oh, I grant you, money did come at first, only pretty soon the gaps between your bits o’ money got longer and longer, and it’s a good two or three years since we’ve seen a penny.’ The arm round Lottie’s shoulders tightened momentarily. ‘But I never thought you’d come a-looking for our Sassy. If she’d been fourteen or fifteen now, I’d understand, but a kid of six . . .’
It was at this point that Troy came whistling into the clearing, stopping short when he saw the woman and glancing quickly from Gran to the stranger, and then back again. ‘What’s up?’ he asked. ‘We ain’t trespassin’; the woods is free to anyone, and old Champ is tethered where he can reach sweet grass but won’t do no harm to nobody.’
He had addressed Gran and it was she who answered him. ‘Nothin’s up; this – this lady has come a-callin’ and is about to leave,’ she said grimly.
But the woman shook her head. ‘I’m not leaving without my daughter,’ she said firmly. ‘And she’s still my daughter, no matter what you may say.’ She held out a beguiling hand. ‘I’m your mammy, Sassy, and I want you to come and live with me in the city,’ she said coaxingly. ‘I shall buy you beautiful clothes and a bicycle, and you shall have lots of toys and games, as well as a great many friends. I’ll teach you to dance and sing, and though I suppose you’ll have to go to school because you need to learn to read and write—’
‘I can read and write; Troy taught me,’ Lottie interrupted rudely. ‘And I’m not going anywhere with you. I live with me Gran – and Troy – and we like things as they are.’ She looked down at herself in her old blue jumper, which was more darn than anything else, at her ragged scarlet skirt and her bare feet which were so tough that she could walk across the forest floor without pain. ‘And these are my workin’ clothes,’ she added defiantly. ‘I’ve got decent stuff for special occasions and I don’t need nothin’ else.’
‘You’ll need a great many smart clothes when you live with me,’ the woman said. ‘You must understand, Sassy, that I am your mother and you are a six-year-old child. You think you have a choice, but you are quite wrong. To be sure, I was forced to hand you over to Mrs Olly here when I was offered a good job in the theatre, but that doesn’t make you any the less my own child. So you’ll come with me when I leave here, and though it may seem strange at first I promise you’ll be truly happy.’
Poor Lottie shrank closer to Gran but Troy stepped forward and spoke directly to the woman. ‘You’ve done without our Sassy for six years; why d’you want her now?’ he said bluntly. ‘We guessed you’d come for her when she was fourteen or fifteen, old enough to earn, but she’s only a kid. You can’t possibly have any use for her.’
The woman sighed. ‘I don’t have to explain to you,’ she said coldly. ‘You can’t be more than twelve or thirteen yourself.’ She turned to Gran. ‘The truth is, I’ve been doing a mother-daughter act with a little girl called Lottie; we got along just fine but unfortunately her mother, who was French, realised what an attraction the child was. Michelle was a singer with the same company and she and Lottie moved back to France. It was too bad; it took me the best part of six months to teach Lottie all the songs and dances, and now her wretched mother is reaping the reward. I looked around me for someone to take her place, and—’
‘And remembered you had a daughter of your own, even if you’d not set eyes on her since she was a few days old,’ Troy said bitterly. ‘And now you want her back and you don’t give a damn about Gran, nor about Sassy either. She’s happy with us, but she won’t be happy with you. She’s a country girl now; she knows nothing about cities. Just let us alone, will you?’
The woman looked undecided and Gran said: ‘Grub’s ready. You’d best join us, missus. But I think the choice must lie wi’ Sassy here.’ The woman began to speak, but Gran hushed her. ‘Eat first, talk later,’ she said, suddenly brisk.
Lottie was so absorbed with what was happening that she scarcely noticed when the scene before her began to blur and a fine white mist crept up between the trees. She realised she was on the verge of waking and fought to get back; she simply must know what happened! ‘Please, please,’ she whispered to whoever sent the dream, ‘please let me go back, if only for a minute.’
And she did go back. The scene before her had changed and she was with the boy, Troy. The weather was wild, the wind roaring through the trees like an express train, the rain driving into their faces, and Troy was talking to her with great earnestness. ‘I’m taking you into the village because Gran was forced to say I would. That woman really is your mother, you see, for all she handed you over to Gran all those years ago, so we can’t just refuse to let her take you. The plan is that you’ll meet her at the Swan With Two Necks, where she’s putting up. You know your mam’s an actress? Well, she’s appearing in Blackpool at the Palace theatre, so that’s where she’s going to take you. She told us that much, though she claimed to have forgotten the address of her lodgings, but that won’t matter. Gran has sewn some money into the hem of your coat, but I’m sure you won’t need it; it’s just for emergencies, like. Can you remember the plan we made?’
‘Of course I can,’ Lottie said fervently through chattering teeth. ‘I am to pretend I like it and do everything my mother says for five whole days. Then on the sixth day I must make an excuse to wander round to the Tower. It is the biggest thing in Blackpool and everyone knows it and will direct me. You’ll be there, or maybe even Gran, and you’ll take me somewhere safe where that woman won’t ever think of searching.’
Troy nodded approvingly. ‘You’ve got it. You’re a bright kid,’ he said. ‘I wish we could get to you sooner but it’ll take us all of five days to reach Blackpool from here. By the way, if something happens and we don’t arrive on Saturday, we’ll be along on the Monday, ’cos Sunday is everyone’s day off. Gran says your mam may think about searching for you but the panto season is coming up and she’ll need to train someone else for her double act, so she won’t search for long.’
‘And Gran will send her a letter saying she’s got me safe, and I’m best with her, and happier,’ Lottie said contentedly. ‘Don’t worry, Troy, I shan’t forget. I’ll be outside that Tower next Saturday – that’s right, isn’t it?’
Troy nodded and squeezed her hand. ‘You’re the best and bravest kid in the world,’ he said. ‘I’m proud of you, and so’s Gran.’
By now they had reached the outskirts of the village, and presently they entered the main street and Troy stooped and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, then a gentle shove between the shoulder blades. ‘There’s the Swan, and your mam’s already out there, waitin’ for you. See her?’ he said. ‘Keep your pecker up, littl’un, and remember, it won’t be for long.’
The journey which Lottie and her mother then undertook was a complicated one with several changes, and during the course of it Lottie acknowledged that the woman had really tried to be nice to her. She had bought her sandwiches, fruit and a bottle of ginger beer, and had tried to explain about the life which she loved and for which she needed Lottie’s help. ‘I’ve always done a double act and that’s why I wanted you, my own little daughter,’ she had said earnestly. ‘I can’t go on alone and honestly, pet, you’ll love the life once you get used to it.’
Presently, the train slowed and stopped, and the woman helped Lottie down on to a busy platform. ‘Where do we go now?’ Lottie asked, for she had seen the sign ‘Liverpool Lime Street’ and thought that they must be changing trains yet again. ‘I’m tired; is it much further?’
Her mother, who had told Lottie to call her Louella, laughed. ‘No more train journeys, you’ll be glad to hear,’ she said gaily. ‘We’ll catch a cab and be home in five minutes.’
They emerged from the station on to a crowded street and Lottie looked round her wildly. ‘Where’s the Tower?’ she asked baldly. ‘And the sign on the station said Liverpool, not Blackpool.’
‘That’s right; this isn’t Blackpool,’ Lottie’s mother said abstractedly. ‘I was boasting a bit when I said Blackpool. I’m working at the Gaiety theatre in this town and so will you be in a week or two.’
For a moment Lottie could only stare whilst fear mingled with cold fury in her breast. Then she swung the small bag she carried, which contained her few possessions, and hit the older woman squarely in the stomach, causing her to teeter and crash into a passer-by. Then she darted into the roadway, her only thought escape. She heard the scream of brakes, saw the streetlights reflected in the puddles as she slipped, and then there was a tremendous bang, an instant of excruciating pain, and darkness descended.
Chapter FourteenLottie awoke, trembling and soaked with perspiration. For a moment she was completely disorientated, imagining herself still lying in the roadway with the rain beating down on her and the roar of traffic stilled whilst voices shouted and, somewhere, a woman screamed.
Then she became aware of the warmth of her bed and the lighter square of the window to her right. Slowly, gradually, she was able to acknowledge that she was in her own room, and that she was safe. It had only been a dream after all. She snuggled her cheek into the pillow and then sat groggily upright, her heart beginning to beat very fast. It had not been a dream; it had been a recollection. She had remembered at last!
She had often wondered whether the dreams, which seemed so real, could possibly have any connection with her six lost years, but because her mother had lied to her – yes, she knew now that Louella had deliberately lied – she had convinced herself that the dreams were just that and nothing more. Yet always, at the very back of her mind, she had believed them, had known that Gran was a real person. Even now, she could feel Gran’s fat, cushiony bosom and strong arms round her when she needed the comfort of a hug. As for Troy, she had known he was real in her present life, but had not managed to work out why someone she had met only once should appear in her dreams. Well, she knew now.
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