Memories Are Made of This (18 page)

BOOK: Memories Are Made of This
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‘Good,' said Hester, stifling a yawn as she sat down at the table. ‘Do you know where last night's
Echo
is?'

‘Last time I saw it Aunt Ethel was reading it,' said Jeanette. ‘She might have placed it down the side of her chair. Why, what d'you want it for?'

‘I want to see what's on at the cinema. Is there any tea in the pot?'

‘I'd make fresh if I were you,' said Jeanette, placing a bowl on the draining board. ‘So what made it so good?'

‘I danced nearly every dance.' Hester stood up and did a twirl. ‘I'll go and see if the
Echo
is where you say it is.'

As she went out of the room, humming a dance tune, Jeanette smiled to herself, glad that her half-sister appeared to have had a good time.
Eat your heart out, Cedric
! she thought.

A few minutes later Hester re-entered the kitchen and sat down at the table with the newspaper. She unfolded it and pulled a face before turning to the front page.

‘What's the face for?' asked Jeanette, emptying the teapot.

‘It was open at the Deaths section. I suppose at Ethel's age you can get into the habit of checking if there's anyone you know who's died.'

‘Cheerful!' Jeanette's eyes gleamed. ‘Perhaps I should ask her?'

‘No, leave well alone!' said Hester, glancing over at her. ‘What was the film like you went to see last night?'

She shrugged. ‘It was OK.'

‘Only OK.' Hester smiled. ‘I don't suppose there was any dancing and singing in it?'

‘No. Anyway, it finished last night. If you're after a bit of music, then
Rose Marie
with Howard Keel is on at the Forum.'

‘I suppose that'll do us,' said Hester, her face brightening.

Jeanette darted her a glance. ‘Us?'

Hester tapped her nose. ‘Never you mind.' She turned the pages of the
Echo
back to the Deaths
section
and was about to fold it in half when she noticed a name had been circled and began to read.

Jeanette placed Hester's cup and saucer on the table within reach. ‘What's that you're reading?'

‘A piece about someone called Lavinia Crawshaw,' said Hester, without looking up. ‘Her age is given as seventy-four and apparently she was active in the suffragette movement in her younger days. In 1910 she was imprisoned in Walton gaol for fourteen days' hard labour.' She paused. ‘I wonder if she was one of Aunt Ethel's charges? Anyway, there's to be a service at St Agnes Church in Toxteth Park on Friday at four o'clock. It says here that she was the only daughter of William Crawshaw who was once a leading cotton merchant of Liverpool. Maybe Aunt Ethel is planning on going.'

‘I bet the father had some money,' said Jeanette.

‘And position, no doubt.' Hester reached for her cup.

Jeanette was puzzled. ‘I wonder if Aunt Ethel ever considered joining the suffragettes?'

‘Not if she was for law and order.'

‘Is there any mention of Lavinia being married or having relatives?'

‘It says
Miss
Lavinia Crawshaw.' Hester sipped her tea. ‘Hmm. Another little mystery for you to solve if your interest is more than idle curiosity.'

‘I bet you ten bob that her having been locked up in Walton gaol will have been reported in the Liverpool
Echo
at the time.'

‘Central Library will have old newspapers in their archives,' said Hester, looking thoughtful, ‘although the police would have arrested her and no doubt there'd be stuff in the police archives, too.'

‘So you could look it up if you wanted to,' said Jeanette.

‘If I wanted, but I'm not that interested.'

‘I am because of the suffragettes, although I'm more interested in finding out what happened to my mother,' said Jeanette. She was halfway through the doorway when she remembered something. ‘So who were you dancing with all evening?'

‘A soldier,' said Hester.

‘A soldier!' Jeanette supposed that made a change from a policeman. ‘What about our Sam? Did he meet him?'

Hester smiled. ‘Of course. He was dancing with Dorothy Wilson. They seemed to be hitting it off OK, so maybe he'll be seeing more of her. That's if she's not touring the country with a theatrical company or making films. Don't mention any of this to the old witch or she'll be poking her nose in, wanting to know the ins and outs of our business.'

‘My lips are sealed,' said Jeanette, closing the door behind her.

Jeanette collided with Ethel as she turned to go upstairs.

‘Why are your lips sealed?' asked the old woman, fixing her with her dark, beady eyes.

‘That would be telling, Aunt Ethel,' said Jeanette. ‘Now can I get past? I'm going to church.'

Ethel's jaw dropped. ‘Church! I hope you aren't visiting that priest again.'

Jeanette smiled. ‘You don't have to make it sound as if I'm committing a deadly sin. I'm going with my friend, Peggy, because I need to ask him a question. See you later.'

She managed to squeeze past the old woman, remove her coat from the hook and scuttle down the lobby. Even as Ethel called her back, Jeanette was putting on her coat. She dragged a scarf from a pocket and checked she had enough money for her fare and collection before opening the door and hurrying outside. She had arranged to meet Peggy outside St Joseph's Church and did not want to be late.

There was no hymn singing of the sort Jeanette really liked, such as ‘Jerusalem' or ‘I Vow to Thee, My Country'. The service was in Latin, so she could understand very little of it. Peggy hissed a sort of translation to her. At least the sermon was in English and wasn't highfalutin' but down to earth. Jeanette decided that was Father Callaghan to a T. As she made for the church door afterwards, she wondered if he would recognize her or whether she'd have to introduce herself all over again.

She need not have worried. He recognized her straightaway and thought he knew why she had attended the service before she even had a chance to speak.

‘No, I haven't heard from him, Jeanette Walker.'

‘I wasn't going to ask you that. It's about my mother.'

He looked surprised. ‘Your mother?'

‘She disappeared during the blitz but her body was never found,' said Jeanette. ‘She just went out one evening and didn't return. I was told that you helped with digging people out of bombed houses.'

‘Sadly, it is a fact that some were never dug out and identified,' said the priest, a shadow in his eyes. ‘It was a terrible time for all of us here on Merseyside. My own mother was killed in Bootle during the blitz. Fortunately, my sister Lottie, who was with her at the time, survived, and my other sister, Nellie, was in the Lake District teaching nursery-aged children when it happened. She returned home almost immediately to take care of our grandfather and youngest sister.'

Jeanette said hastily, ‘I'm sorry, Father, I didn't mean to revive sad memories for you.'

He nodded absently. ‘I assume you have no idea where your mother was going that evening?'

‘No. I was tucked up in bed. My half-brother, Sam, was keeping his eye on me and she didn't tell him where she was going. My father was on duty. Later he did try and find her, visited several hospitals, but without any luck. We'd accept she was dead, only my great-aunt says nasty things about her and is of the opinion she's still alive.'

‘Does she have any proof of this?'

‘She's never produced any, and those who knew my mother believe that she would never have walked out and left me. We've considered memory loss but . . .' She shrugged.

Father Callaghan was silent for what seemed a long time. Then he said, ‘I'll tell you what, Jeanette. If you have a photograph of your mother you can let me have, I know a number of men who were involved in rescuing people during the blitz in different parts of Liverpool. It's a long shot, but someone just might remember if they dug her out and she survived with memory loss.'

Jeanette's face lit up. ‘Thank you!'

‘Don't build up your hopes,' he warned. ‘It might lead nowhere.'

‘It's worth a try, though. I'll see you get a photograph. Oh, and by the way, we were living in a different house to the one we're in now. It was not far from Princes Park on the edge of Toxteth.'

‘I see. I'll take that into consideration when I mention it to the men.'

Jeanette thanked him again and left the church with Peggy. ‘What do you make of that then?' she asked.

Peggy squeezed her arm. ‘I think it'll be good if he can find someone and you discover for certain what happened to your mother. So what are we going to do now? Shall we walk into town and do some window shopping?'

Jeanette nodded. Window shopping wasn't as good as real shopping, but she could dream of what she would buy if she had money to spend.

Thirteen

‘When I'm calling you-oo-oo!' sang Ally as he and Hester came out of the cinema on Lime Street.

‘Hush,' she hissed, forcing back a giggle. ‘We don't need the “Indian Love Call” here in Liverpool.'

‘Perhaps not,' he said, slipping an arm around her shoulders. ‘It wasn't a bad film if you like Howard Keel dressed up as a Mountie, but I'd have liked some dancing.'

‘Me too,' said Hester, conscious of that strong arm holding her against him, ‘but it wasn't that kind of film.'

‘No, much more serious than
Top Hat
.' He gazed down at her. ‘So what do we do now? Shall we go for a drink or do I see you home?'

‘You don't have to take me home when your hotel is here in the city centre,' she said hastily.

‘But I want to take you home,' he said firmly. ‘What if something were to happen to you on the way and I was not there? A gentleman always sees a lady home.'

‘I'm no lady, I'm a policewoman,' said Hester, amused, ‘and I can take care of myself.'

He shook his head. ‘I'm coming with you. I'm not expecting to be invited in to meet the family if that's what's worrying you.'

‘After just one date that didn't occur to me,' said Hester. But now he had mentioned it, she was struck by the thought that her great-aunt might peep through the curtains and see her with a man. She didn't want to be put through the third degree once inside the house.

‘If it's that you just don't want to inconvenience me, forget it!' said Ally. ‘I'm going to have to return to my sister's farm near Blackburn tomorrow, so I don't mind going out of my way if it means spending more time with you now.'

The thought of his wanting to spend more time with her made her feel warm inside. Was that how he felt? She could hardly believe that this attraction between them had developed so quickly. It seemed odd to think that they had only met for the first time yesterday. Although there had been a couple of times in the cinema when she had caught a glimpse of his profile and been convinced that she had seen him before. It was a possibility, because if his father and uncle had lived in Liverpool and Ally had done so too, then they might have passed in the street or even seen each other coming out of a cinema.

‘See me to our street then,' she said, smiling, ‘but not to my front door. I don't want the neighbours gossiping.'

He gazed down at her quizzically. ‘You care about what they say that much?'

‘I don't like being the centre of attention. I like my privacy.'

‘So do I, but in the army it's something you get little of,' said Ally wryly.

‘But you'll be leaving the army soon.'

‘Aye, but I've yet to make up my mind where I'd like to settle. Could be I might decide to emigrate,' he said.

She felt a stab of dismay but tried not to show it. He was obviously trying to gauge her reaction to his words. Emigrate! It was something that she had never given any thought to and she did not want to do so now.

Even so, she felt compelled to ask, ‘Why d'you want to emigrate? Where would you go?' She was aware of a sharpness in her voice and wished she could have controlled it.

‘Maybe to Canada or New Zealand. I don't like too much heat, so Australia is out of the reckoning for me.'

‘Well, that's the where,' she said, attempting to lighten her voice, ‘but you haven't told me the why.'

‘They're two countries I'd like to visit to see if I can build myself a good life out there,' he said slowly, removing his arm from about her shoulders. ‘Haven't you ever wanted to move away from Liverpool?'

Instantly the feeling of closeness vanished. Obviously what he was talking about was extremely important to him and he wanted to distance himself from her because, with their bodies touching, he had been only too aware of her reaction to his words. But why did he have to bring such a topic up so soon? They scarcely knew each other and it was serious stuff. And now he was waiting for an answer and she felt cross with him for disturbing the harmony that had existed between them.

‘You haven't, have you?' he said, gazing at her intently.

‘Twice I've lived away from Liverpool and was happy,' she said slowly. ‘Once up in Lancashire, as it happens, and then when I did my police training Warrington way.'

His expression altered. ‘So you're not against the idea of uprooting yourself?'

‘No, but the reason would have to be a good one. I'm very fond of my father, Sam and Jeanette. My great-aunt I can easily live without,' she replied. ‘Now can we change the subject? There's a lot we don't know about each other. We don't even know when next we'll be able to meet.'

He surprised her by kissing the side of her face. ‘I know the most important thing and that's that I want to get to know you better. I think I could fall in love with you.'

Her head was in a whirl. ‘It's too soon.'

‘Why? People fall in love at first sight.'

BOOK: Memories Are Made of This
9.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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