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‘Is this why you wanted to see me?’
‘Yes. I don’t suppose John’s with you? The only time I get to see him is when we come to Winchester.’
‘You know why I don’t bring him to Battersea.’
‘No matter how much you try to hide it, the truth has a way of coming out,’ Bessie warned.
‘John is too young to cope with it yet. Maybe when he’s older, but even then it’s going to be an awful shock.’
‘I know you regret the day you married Kevin Dolby, and if you remember, I tried to warn you against him,’ Bessie said, but then she doubled up in another fit of coughing.
‘Your chest sounds terrible. If you’d stop smoking it would help.’
‘After thirteen years of nagging me, you might as well give up. Anyway, I’m nearly eighty years old now and it’s too late.’
‘Don’t be silly. Of course it isn’t.’
‘Bury your head in the sand if you must, but now you’ve promised to take care of Nora it’s eased my mind. You’re settled with Derek, and though you all live with your mother, which isn’t ideal, it’s plain to see how happy you are. Your son is a lovely boy and one of the few people who doesn’t mock Nora.’
‘He loves her, Bessie.’
‘I know, and she adores him, which is another reason why I know Nora will be fine when you take her on. When I go, you’ll find a box under the bed with my papers in, and when you sort my things out you’ll find a nice little cache of stuff to help you out.’
‘I wish you’d stop talking like this.’
‘I’m just putting me affairs in order, that’s all. Now enough said, so how about making me a cup of tea?’
‘Yes, all right, and can I get you anything to eat?’
‘No, thanks, a fag and a cuppa is all I want.’
‘Oh, you and your cigarettes,’ Pearl said wearily, sad that all her years of nagging Bessie to stop had come to nothing. She went down to the kitchen, pleased to see it sparkling with cleanliness. Bessie was hopeless when it came to housework, but it was one of the things Nora excelled at. Without even thinking about it Pearl had agreed to take Nora on if anything happened to Bessie, but now she realised that it would pose a rather large problem. They shared her mother’s two bedroom cottage, and with her mother in one of them and John in the other, she and Derek already had to sleep in the front living room. That just left the kitchen, which fortunately was a large one, and a small conservatory which now served as a sitting room. As Pearl was pouring the boiling water into the teapot, Nora appeared. She was short, plump, with a round face and straight, light brown hair. Though her eyes often appeared vacant, Nora was usually cheerful; yet this wasn’t the case now.
‘Bessie really bad this time,’ Nora said woefully.
‘She’ll be all right,’ Pearl said kindly. ‘You’re doing a wonderful job of looking after her.’
Looking tearful, Nora shook her head. ‘No, Bessie not get better.’
Nora’s words sent a shiver along Pearl’s spine, but despite that she managed to sound reassuring. ‘Of course she will. Did the chemist give you her medicine?’
‘Yes,’ she said, holding it out.
‘Good girl, and now you can take it up to her,’ Pearl said as she regained control of her feelings. Like Bessie, Nora had the strange ability to predict the future – but surely she was mistaken this time?
‘All right, I give to Bessie,’ Nora agreed.
As Pearl waited for the tea to brew, she decided that as always Nora was just being overly anxious, as she was every time Bessie got a bout of bronchitis. She wasn’t predicting the future. Bessie would get over it. She always did. She was a tough old bird and would probably live long enough to get a telegram from the Queen.
Bessie dutifully swallowed her medicine, but she knew there was nothing now that could help. She smiled fondly at Nora, but it did nothing to soothe the girl’s anxiety. Instead Nora looked as she had for the past week, pale and tearful.
Like her, Nora knew of course, sensed that the end was in sight and Bessie’s heart went out to her. How long had it been since she’d taken the girl in? Girl, no, Nora wasn’t a girl – she was forty-three now and they’d muddled along together for thirteen years.
With a sigh, Bessie closed her eyes as her mind drifted back to 1957. Both Pearl and Nora had been like waifs and strays then, both needing her sanctuary and help. When Pearl had to get away from the Dolbys she had nowhere else to go, and Bessie recalled how she’d felt compelled to take her in. However, she had also sensed that Pearl wouldn’t be with her for long. On the other hand, as Nora’s mother had been admitted to a home with senile dementia, she had known that taking Nora on would become a permanent arrangement.
Bessie opened her eyes again to look at Nora, forcing a smile to alleviate her fears. It was odd that Nora could predict too, almost as if they were meant to be together, and over the years Nora had become like the daughter that Bessie had never had, a woman who remained like a child, capable of some tasks, yet so vulnerable. There was one thing that Nora feared, and that was change, but Bessie had now taken steps to ensure that all that was familiar to Nora would remain.
With a croak in her voice, Bessie said, ‘Thanks for fetching my medicine, love.’
‘I look after you,’ Nora said gravely.
‘You certainly do,’ Bessie agreed as the door was pushed open and Pearl appeared carrying a tray. ‘It’s about time. I thought you’d gone to India to hand-pick the tea leaves.’
‘Very funny,’ said Pearl.
With a small, elfin face, Pearl had a delicate look about her, but Bessie knew she was stronger than she appeared. She was very fond of Pearl, and with no family of her own left Bessie felt there had been no choice – no other way to secure Nora’s future. Even so, she felt a twinge of guilt at the burden she was going to lay on Pearl. Would she agree to the conditions of the will?
Bessie longed for reassurance, for a glimpse of the future, but her second sight failed her.
Derek left the old people’s home, pleased to see that his gran was still happy there. At seventy-nine she had women of her own age to talk to and obviously enjoyed joining them in putting the world to rights.
His gran certainly hadn’t been happy when he married Pearl, and it hadn’t helped that he’d moved to Winchester. Despite all the years that had passed and all his attempts to persuade her, she still stubbornly refused to have anything to do with Pearl, though it didn’t stop her from complaining that she was the only one in the home who couldn’t brag about having great-grandchildren. He’d tried over and over again to tell her that he saw John as his son, but his gran refused to recognise him as such. It saddened Derek that he and Pearl hadn’t had children, but despite the pleasure of trying, it had never happened.
Battersea High Street was still busy, the market stalls doing a brisk trade, and for a moment Derek envied the costermongers their camaraderie. He had once had a pitch himself and there were a few men he’d known still working the stalls; one of them waved as he got out of the car, but mostly it was strange faces.
Pearl looked worried as they left Bessie’s and after popping upstairs himself to say hello to the old girl, he understood why. ‘She looked a bit rough, Pearl.’
‘I know, and thank goodness for Lucy. She’s been cooking meals for them both, and though Nora manages to do most things for Bessie when she’s ill, she can’t use the telephone. I’ve asked Lucy to ring me again if she thinks I’m needed.’
‘Lucy’s a nice girl,’ Derek commented and as always as he drove off he felt a pang at leaving Battersea. He liked Winchester, but this area would always feel like home to him. He knew they would never come back, never live here again … but a man could dream, couldn’t he?
Chapter Three
‘Granddad, what’s really wrong with Gran?’ John asked. ‘I’ve never seen her like that before.’
Driving the lad back to Winchester, Bernie knew he had to be careful with his words. In the past it had been easy enough to tell John that his gran suffered from headaches for which she took pills, but the lad was growing up now and Bernie doubted he could fob him off with the same story. He decided to tell him the partial truth.
‘Your gran had a nervous breakdown from which she never fully recovered,’ he explained. Though of course there’d been more to it than that. Dolly had lost her mind, ranting and raving like a mad woman. It was only the treatment and the pills she had been taking since leaving hospital that kept her on an even keel.
‘Was it because my real dad was sent to prison?’ John asked.
‘I’m afraid it was partly to blame. Your gran doted on Kevin and it knocked her for six.’
‘Poor Gran,’ John murmured.
‘Don’t worry. As long as she takes her medication, your gran is fine,’ Bernie assured him. John might be like his father in looks, but he was nothing like him in character. The boy was gentle, caring and it had become clear from an early age that he hated any form of violence. Growing up in Winchester, John had a love of the surrounding countryside, along with animals, wild or tame, and it was something they shared. With this thought, Bernie smiled. He wasn’t sure how Pearl would feel about it, but knew that John would love the gift he had planned. He was looking forward to the boy’s birthday.
The drive back to Winchester had the same soporific effect it always had on John and Bernie saw that his head was soon nodding. While the boy slept, Bernie reflected on Kevin’s letter and the news he would have to break to Pearl. He doubted she’d be pleased to hear that Kevin was up for parole again. When Pearl married Kevin, Bernie had hated the way that both his son and Dolly had treated her. At times he’d tried to intervene, to make things a little easier for Pearl, and the two of them had grown close.
‘Are we nearly there?’ John said sleepily.
‘No, we’ve a fair way to go yet,’ Bernie told him, yet a glance showed him that the lad had gone back to sleep already.
He wondered what effect Kevin’s release would have on John, and doubted it would be a good one. As far as Bernie was concerned, he felt that Kevin should serve his full time: after all, the jeweller that he’d bludgeoned over and over again, leaving the poor sod brain-damaged, was going to suffer for the rest of his life. He also thought that Kevin’s so-called religious conversion was unlikely to be genuine. Even before going to prison, Kevin had never done an honest day’s work. Dolly had funded his idleness, but if his son thought that things were going to be the same when he got out, he was going to be very disappointed.
Bernie smiled with satisfaction. He handled their money now, but after buying the cottage he knew the rest wouldn’t last forever. Though nervous at first, he’d discovered a talent when it came to investing in the stock market and had gradually quadrupled their savings. Fearful of his luck changing, he’d finally turned his shares into cash and with the interest it was earning, they were comfortably off.
‘John, we’re here,’ Bernie now said, gently nudging his grandson.
John blinked his eyes, then slowly unfurled his limbs to climb out of the car. Bernie followed him to the front door of the small, flat-fronted, terraced house.
‘Mum, Dad, we’re back,’ John called as they went into the house.
Pearl appeared, smiling when she saw them. ‘Bernie, thanks for bringing him home earlier than usual. My mother has no idea that we’re laying on a special tea for her fiftieth birthday and it wouldn’t be the same without John being there.’
‘Where is she, Mum?’
‘Next door with Tim.’
‘Tim?’ Bernie asked, his eyebrows rising.
‘Timothy Blake, our next-door neighbour. He hasn’t been the same since his wife died last year and Mum often goes round to keep him company. We got Tim to ask her to pop round when we came back, but it’s still been a mad dash to get everything ready and the table laid. Come and see the cake,’ Pearl invited as she led them through to the kitchen.
‘Derek, hello,’ Bernie said and after his greeting was returned he duly admired Emily’s birthday cake.
‘I won’t be a minute. I need the bathroom,’ John said, hurrying off.
Bernie took the opportunity to talk to Pearl and Derek out of the boy’s hearing. ‘Dolly heard from Kevin. He’s … well … he’s up for parole again.’
‘Do you think he’ll get it this time?’ Pearl asked worriedly.
‘With his so-called religious conversion, Dolly seems to think so.’
Pearl frowned. ‘What do you mean, so-called conversion?’
‘When it comes to Kevin, I’m not as gullible as Dolly, yet she seems convinced it’s genuine,’ Bernie admitted. ‘On her last visit Kevin was even spouting that if he’s refused parole again it must be because God has work for him to do within the prison; that his calling might be to help the other inmates. He says if he does get out, he’s going to start up some sort of refuge for alcoholics and homeless people – lost souls as he calls them.’
‘Goodness!’ Pearl exclaimed.
‘I doubt there’s any goodness involved,’ Bernie said, ‘especially as he was probably hinting for a substantial donation.’
‘Do you think he’ll want to see John?’
‘I don’t know, love. Dolly seems to think so, but she knows you’ve got sole custody. Mind you, John’s curious about his father and said today that he’d like to see him.’
Pearl’s face paled. ‘But what if Kevin tries to take John away from me?’
‘He’d better not,’ Bernie growled. ‘And anyway, if you tell John the truth about Kevin, he won’t be so keen to see him.’
‘No,’ Pearl protested. ‘He’s far too young to cope with it yet.’
There was the sound of footsteps and John appeared in the doorway, bringing the conversation to an abrupt end.
‘Well, lad,’ Bernie said, ‘I’d best be off, and Pearl, tell Emily I said happy birthday. I’m sure she’s going to be thrilled with that cake.’
‘Yes, she’ll love it,’ Pearl agreed, ‘and we’re taking her to the theatre tonight.’
‘That sounds right up Emily’s street,’ Bernie commented, then said his goodbyes. He was thoughtful as he got into his car. They were a happy family and having lived in Emily’s house since he was a baby, John had only ever known love and stability. If Kevin got out, all that could change, and Bernie found himself again hoping that his son would remain in prison.
At five thirty, Emily clapped her hands with delight. ‘Oh, look, Tim, it’s such a beautiful cake.’
‘Yes, it is,’ Tim agreed as he held out a chair ready for her to sit down.
The cake was in the centre of the table, and there were cucumber sandwiches, tiny rolls stuffed with tuna, some with egg, and lovely home-made biscuits. Emily smiled as she looked around the table. Her friends, Libby Moore and her husband, were smiling back, her gorgeous grandson too, and of course Derek and Pearl. From the day she had found her daughter again, Emily’s life had been full of joy. They had lived together for thirteen years now and were very close, with Derek moving in too when he married Pearl. They had been happy years, yet it still hurt Emily that she had missed so much of Pearl’s childhood.
Emily would never forget how furious her father had been when she had become pregnant out of wedlock. She had been kept a virtual prisoner in her parents’ large house, out of sight of anyone, and when she had given birth she was heartbroken to be told her baby was stillborn. Many, many, years later, when her father was on his deathbed, he had taken great delight in telling her that she would inherit nothing. He had then confessed that her baby hadn’t been stillborn after all, that she had lived, and he’d abandoned her on the steps of an orphanage. Her baby had been found clutching a tiny button, and with no other form of identification that was how she’d been named: Pearl Button, though of course she was now Pearl Lewis.
Derek laughed at something Pearl said, breaking Emily out of her reverie. She hadn’t been sure about Derek at first. She had heard all about Pearl’s first husband, Kevin Dolby, and Emily feared that as the two men had known each other, Derek would be cut from the same cloth. Thankfully she’d been wrong: Derek was a wonderful man and she’d become very fond of him.
‘Happy birthday, Gran,’ said John as he held out a package.
Emily unwrapped the gift, loving the pretty box of handkerchiefs with lace edging and her initials embroidered in one corner. ‘Thank you, darling. They’re beautiful.’
‘This is from us, Mum.’
In the small box, Emily was thrilled to find a delicate gold chain hung with a pretty pearl locket. ‘I just love it,’ she said, smiling with happiness.
‘Emily, I’m so sorry,’ Tim said softly, obviously embarrassed. ‘I haven’t got you a gift.’
‘It really doesn’t matter,’ she told him, just glad to have him there. She had been friends with Delia, Tim’s late wife, and had always been fond of them both. Tim had been lost when Delia died, but just recently Emily’s platonic friendship with him had slowly begun to develop into something more. Of course he was still grieving and it was far too soon to take things any further, but maybe, in the future … just maybe …
Chapter Four
Derek awoke earlier than usual on Friday. Careful not to wake Pearl, he climbed out of bed, shivering as he threw on his dressing gown before making his way to the kitchen. It was still cold, but perhaps next month they’d see a decent rise in the temperature. He lit the fire, and then placed the kettle on the gas stove, unable to stop his thoughts turning to Kevin Dolby. There had been no news from Bernie about the parole hearing, and with any luck that meant he’d been turned down.
‘I thought I’d be the first one up this morning.’
Derek turned to smile fondly at Emily. ‘We’re both early birds then,’ he said, struck as always by her tiny, birdlike appearance. Some people assumed that Emily was frail, yet although she had angina, she hadn’t had a bad attack for many years. He’d heard all the jokes about mothers-in-law, but none applied to his relationship with Emily. From the day he’d married Pearl and moved in, Emily had given them plenty of space, even using her bedroom as a sort of sitting room too, with a couple of chairs on each side of a small fireplace, along with a radio and television. They’d protested, but Emily insisted that she liked it that way and it meant that she could watch the TV programmes she preferred.
‘I see you’re making a pot of tea,’ Emily said.
‘Yes, it won’t be long now.’
‘I’ll take over if you like,’ she offered.
‘Thanks. I’ll go and get ready for work while it’s brewing,’ Derek said. As he went up to the bathroom his thoughts returned to their living arrangements.
Even now, when Emily wasn’t next door with Tim, she spent most of her evenings in her room, watching programmes like All Creatures Great and Small, while Derek preferred The Sweeney. It was a good choice of title for the police series – Sweeney Todd, slang for the flying squad. Over the years Derek had suggested that they find a place of their own to rent, but somehow it never happened, both Pearl and her mother happy to keep things the way they were.
