Memories Are Made of This (15 page)

Hester frowned. ‘I don't know why he has to be so interested in him.'

‘He's your brother!' said Jeanette, as if that was answer enough. ‘So, are you dating Cedric?'

‘What if I am?' said Hester casually.

‘I'm glad you've got a boyfriend. I hope it lasts.' Jeanette grinned at her, stood up and left the kitchen.

Hester stared after her, frowning. What had she meant by that –
I hope it lasts
?
Perhaps she was thinking of Aunt Ethel putting her oar in or Sam checking Cedric out – maybe see if he had a couple of wives tucked away somewhere, she thought, exasperated. Why did her family have to poke their nose into her affairs?

By Friday there was not much change in the strike situation in Liverpool, but in London there was a move back to work by the dockers. Jeanette was glad when Saturday arrived, as she was hoping she might see Jimmy at the milk bar. As it was she only saw Norm and Maggie. Even so, both were chatty, and when Betty came into the conversation Jeanette remembered it was Maggie's artistic cousin who had mentioned her half-sister having lived in Whalley.

‘That's right,' said Maggie. ‘She was an Emma Booth, but she's now a Gregory because she married my brother, Jared. They live in Formby, but she still has a cottage in Whalley and in summer she usually opens up the front room and back garden and serves teas and light meals and sells local crafts. She's reluctant to get rid of the cottage as not only her grandparents lived there but her great-grandparents, too.'

‘Emma must have been living there when my half-sister Hester was evacuated to Whalley. I wonder if they knew each other?' mused Jeanette, thinking she must try and remember to ask Hester who was going out that evening. No doubt she was seeing Cedric but had kept mum about where they were going. Could be that her question about Emma would have to wait until tomorrow.

Hester felt a thrill go right through her as she glanced at Cedric's handsome profile. Was she falling in love with him? Just the touch of his sleeve against hers distracted her attention from the stage when she wanted to concentrate on the players. She had noticed a name in the programme that she recognized, so was trying to spot the actress.

Cedric whispered, ‘Are you enjoying the play?'

She said in an undertone, ‘Of course I am.'

‘Shush!' came a voice behind them.

They fell silent and she was aware of his fumbling for her hand. Her heart skipped a beat. Now she really was finding it difficult to concentrate on the play. Then suddenly she thought she recognized a trace of a Scouse accent in the voice of the actress who had just come on stage and stared intently at her. Beneath the stage make-up she could not recognize Dorothy Wilson, but Hester determined to go backstage when the play finished and see if it was her.

Unfortunately, Cedric was not in favour of the idea when she broached it during the interval, while they were having a drink. ‘I don't have the time to hang around stage doors, Hester.'

She was disappointed. ‘But you don't understand! She was a great friend of the girl my brother was in love with who died during the blitz. I haven't seen her for ages.'

He shrugged. ‘I'm not preventing you from speaking to her, but it does mean you'll have to see yourself home. I have to be in at a certain time, otherwise my mother worries about me. She's getting old, and you know what old people are like.

‘Only too well,' said Hester, thinking of Ethel. ‘I'm perfectly capable of seeing myself home, just like I did last time.'

He reached out and squeezed her hand. ‘You do understand I'd much prefer to spend the time with you?'

She nodded.

His dark eyes held hers and he raised her hand to his lips. ‘How about meeting outside Owen Owen on Thursday at seven o'clock. We could go and see the new Robert Taylor film. It's set in Egypt and the sight of a bit of sun will cheer us up.'

‘Sounds good. I'll look forward to it.' She hesitated. ‘What about next Saturday? Will you be free?'

‘I don't know yet, Hester. I'll let you know on Thursday.'

‘Couldn't you ring me at headquarters before then?'

He hesitated. ‘I'd rather leave it until Thursday. I'm taking Mother to the hospital earlier in the day and until I know what the doctor says, I can't make a decision.'

She said no more, thinking it was enough for now, knowing she would see him in a few days' time. Should she tell Sam that he lived with his mother? Thinking of her brother brought her mind back to Dorothy Wilson and her decision to go backstage later.

Hester and Jeanette did not get the opportunity to talk to each other over the weekend, as by the time Hester arrived home Jeanette was in bed, and the following morning she had an urgent call to report to the CID. So it was not until Monday evening that the pair of them had the house to themselves.

‘
Why do girls leave home?
Have you seen this?' Jeanette glanced up from the evening's
Echo
and stared at Hester. ‘You being a policewoman, I thought you might be interested. Some of them don't just leave home, they go missing.'

‘Yes,' said Hester, looking at her through blurry eyes as she stirred sugar into her cocoa. Her head was throbbing and she felt as if she had a cold coming on.
Damn
! ‘Apparently they're seeking happiness. I hope they find it,' she added, putting her feet up on the pouffe and sipping her cocoa. ‘I didn't tell you, did I, that I went to the theatre on Saturday – and who did I see?'

‘Who?'

‘Dorothy Wilson, Sam and Carol's friend, up on the stage.'

‘Fancy that! I didn't tell you, either, that I remembered where I'd heard Whalley mentioned before,' said Jeanette. ‘It was to do with some customers who come into the milk bar. They know someone who grew up there. She used to be an Emma Booth but now she's married to Maggie's brother.'

‘Emma Booth!' Hester sat up straight. ‘I remember her. I attended the same school whilst I was there. She lived with her grandparents. Well, well, it's a small world.'

Jeanette smiled. ‘Isn't it just. Did you get to speak to Dorothy Wilson?'

‘Yes, I decided that I couldn't let the opportunity slip by. She remembered me and asked after Sam. Her mother died last year and she's all alone in the world. I meant to mention seeing her to him, but it slipped my mind.'

‘You should tell him.'

‘I will,' said Hester, putting down her cup hastily and reaching for her handkerchief. She sneezed into it.

‘You're not getting a cold, are you?' asked Jeanette, pushing her chair further back. ‘If you are, I don't want it.'

‘I don't want you to get it,' said Hester in a muffled voice. ‘By the way, when are you going to see that new Glynis Johns' film?'

‘Don't know, why?'

‘Because Dorothy is in it. She only has a tiny role but it made her rethink what she'd really like to do.'

‘Tell me what she looks like and I'll watch out for her. There was a review of it in the
Echo
last week and an interview with Glynis Johns, but it won't be showing until the week before Christmas.' Jeanette yawned.

Hester stuffed her handkerchief up her sleeve. ‘I wonder where Aunt Ethel has gone?'

‘I don't know and I don't care, just as long as she's out of the way.' Jeanette turned a page of the
Echo
and a few moments later asked, ‘What do you think of bigamy?'

‘What on earth makes you ask that?'

‘Because of what it says here. Apparently the reason why some people go missing is because they've committed bigamy. They find someone else and because they don't want to cope with going through a divorce, they change their name, pretend the first marriage never took place and marry someone else.' She lifted her head and stared across at Hester. ‘It happened quite a bit during the Great War and afterwards. Now it's not so easy to just change your name and get a job when you move somewhere else because of National Insurance numbers. Unless you get a job cash in hand like my part-time one.'

‘Why are you so interested in this subject?' asked Hester, stifling a sneeze.

Jeanette sighed. ‘Dad and my mother didn't marry for love, you know. What if she did fall in love with someone else and couldn't bear to live without him and—'

‘You don't really believe that, do you?' asked Hester, lowering her handkerchief.

‘I don't want to, but it would mean she was still alive somewhere.'

‘She loved you too much to go off with another man,' said Hester firmly. ‘Unless it can be proved, I'm not going to believe it. Now, if she had lost her memory and remarried, that would be different.'

‘Dad told me he visited several hospitals in search of her but everything was in such a mess – records destroyed, and so on,' said Jeanette softly.

‘Let's change the subject.'

‘OK. Tell me something more about Dorothy Wilson?'

Hester leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. ‘She's been involved in all kinds of plays, and not only in the theatre. She's been on the wireless and even on the television. She's interested in what goes on behind the camera as well. She told me she'd enjoy filming a documentary in Liverpool.'

‘What kind of documentary?'

‘I'm not sure.'

‘I don't know why she doesn't make a thriller. One of those black and white gritty films with sailors, a tart with a heart, fog and a juicy murder,' said Jeanette with relish.

‘Murders aren't fun in real life.' Hester reached for her handkerchief and sneezed again. ‘Damn!' she exclaimed in a muffled voice. ‘I really have got a cold coming on and it's bloody inconvenient.'

‘Would you like me to make you a hot-water bottle?' said Jeanette, putting down the newspaper. ‘You're probably best going to bed early.'

Hester thanked her and within the hour she was tucked up in bed, praying that she would feel better in the morning.

Feeling worse if anything the following day, Hester struggled into work, rather than being home at Ethel's mercy. She dosed herself with Aspro and bought a bottle of lemon, honey and glycerine to ease her sore throat, determined to be fit for her date with Cedric.

She had told her friend Wendy about him, and she had suggested that Hester pass on an invitation to the evening do of her wedding. ‘I can't wait to see him,' she had added, her eyes twinkling.

Hester had yet to mention it to Cedric and knew that she was leaving it a bit late to extend the invitation because it was for the coming Saturday. She crossed her fingers and hoped for the best. Unfortunately by Wednesday her cold was no better and she began to doubt that she would be fit enough to attend the wedding if she didn't take a couple of days off. On Thursday morning she was still feeling rough and knew that she would have to cancel her date. As Cedric had told her he was taking his mother to the hospital that day, she knew it was no use phoning through to his station. So she decided to ask Jeanette to do her a favour.

‘Anything within reason,' she said.

‘I want you to meet Cedric for me this evening on your way home from work and give him a message.'

‘OK. Where and what time?'

Hester told her, adding, ‘Explain to him that I've been ill but hope to be better by Saturday. Wendy's invited him to her evening do. Ask after his mother and see if he can come. It's at the Co-op hall in Edge Lane. I'll meet him outside at seven thirty.'

‘OK,' said Jeanette, making for the door.

Hester called after her. ‘You do remember what he looks like?'

‘No doubt I'll recognize him when I see him,' said Jeanette, and was about to close the bedroom door when she remembered something. ‘By the way, did you tell Sam about seeing Dorothy Wilson at the theatre?'

Hester sagged against the pillows. ‘No, I'll tell him when I see him.'

‘Okey doke! I'll see you this evening.'

Jeanette groaned as she came out of the Cunard Building that evening to swirling fog. She wished Peggy was with her, but she had not turned in to work that morning. Jeanette drew up her scarf over her mouth. Hopefully it would not take her more than a quarter of an hour to reach Clayton Square.

As she began to walk she found herself thinking of a Sherlock Holmes film called
The Pearl of Death
, which had a villain called the Creeper. She almost jumped out of her skin when a man loomed up out of the fog. He hurried past her. Sighing with relief, she just hoped that Cedric would be at the appointed place when she got there.

To her annoyance there was no one who looked the least like the man she vaguely remembered waiting in Clayton Square. She was hungry and cold and decided to hang around outside Reece's for a quarter of an hour, and if he didn't come in that time she would go home. After ten minutes there was still no sign of him and her feet were in danger of turning into blocks of ice. She walked to Kendall's and gazed at a colourful display of raincoats and umbrellas, and was on her way back when a man stepped out in front of her.

Jeanette started, gazing up at the tall figure in a dog-tooth checked overcoat and a trilby pulled low over his forehead. The bottom half of his face was concealed by a scarf. ‘Are you Cedric?'

He pushed back his hat and drew down his scarf. ‘That's right. You wouldn't be Hester's sister, would you?'

‘Yes. Hester can't come. She's a rotten cold but is hoping to be better by Saturday.'

‘That's a shame. I was looking forward to spending time with her this evening. There was a film I wanted to see. I don't suppose you'd like to come in her stead?'

The question took her aback. ‘I couldn't! I've no money and besides, she'll be waiting to hear what you had to say. I was also to tell you that it's her friend Wendy's wedding on Saturday and you're invited to the evening do.'