‘Gosh, I don’t know what to say. I never expected any of this. I was just going to slip away quietly.’
‘No one does anything quietly at Butlins,’ Johnny said, kissing her cheek. ‘I suggest you get yourself on the train and find your seat. I’ll put your suitcase in the guard’s van.’
Bunty shook hands with Charlie, who insisted she keep the newspaper, and hugged Molly so tightly she could hardly breathe. ‘I’ll send a postcard as soon as I reach Dumfries. I promise.’
As the train chugged out of the station, Molly stood watching. She felt as desolate as she had the day she’d left her life in Erith back in May. In a few days, she’d be waving goodbye to George, Kath and Freda when their holiday came to an end. She felt so lonely.
Johnny took her arm and tucked it into his as they left the platform, stopping only to see the last puff of white smoke from the train as it disappeared into a tunnel. ‘She’ll be back. There’s no need for such a sad face.’
‘I know she will. It’s not the end of our friendship,’ Molly said. ‘I suppose I’m not used to so many changes in my life. I feel as though I’ve done nothing but say goodbye to people I love over the past year.’
‘There are still people here who love you, Molly.’
She looked up to his face and knew he was sincere. But could she step into his glamorous world of theatres, movies and starlets, and be truly happy?
‘There’s something else, isn’t there?’ he asked as he guided her to where his car was parked.
Molly was startled. Did he realize she had concerns about being involved in his life? ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she said, looking away from his gaze.
‘That newspaper article . . . Something worried you. I was watching your face as you read it.’
‘Oh, that. Yes, something is worrying me. It’s Simon, my second cousin,’ she added as Johnny looked puzzled. ‘He reads that newspaper. I remember seeing it lying about when we all lived in my parents’ house.’
‘I suppose many people read that particular paper. It’s one of the most popular, I believe.’
‘Don’t you see? If he reads this edition, he’s hardly going to miss the Butlins story splashed across the front page, and my name’s mentioned twice. Johnny, he will know where I am.’ Molly looked anxiously at Johnny as he started the car and pulled out of the parking space. ‘Perhaps it’s time for me to leave as well.’
Johnny slammed his foot down on the brake and the car came to a sudden halt. ‘Now look here, you are not going anywhere. I’ve waited years to find a woman I could love who wasn’t chasing me for my contacts to help her on the stairway to stardom. I love you, Molly, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you walk out of my life now. I will never let anyone hurt you. You’ve got to believe me. If Simon comes anywhere near the camp, I’ll have him locked up before you can say, “Read the headlines.” I’ve instructed my legal friend to look into your problem with your cousins, so in time this will all be over. Can you hang on here with me until then? What do you think?’
Molly laid her hand over Johnny’s, who was gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles had turned white. ‘What I think is that I love you too, Johnny,’ she said in a whisper.
‘You look bright-eyed and bushy-tailed,’ Molly said as Plum burst into their chalet. ‘Those days off certainly did you good.’
‘You could say that. I have the most marvellous news, and if I don’t share it with both of you, I shall burst.’ She looked around the room and noticed there were only two beds made up. ‘Where’s Bunty? Has something happened?’
‘She’s gone to Scotland to be with Gordon. I asked Spud if he could let you know, but he said something about you not being at home. It was a shame you missed saying goodbye. We gave Bunty a lovely send-off. But I’ll tell you about that later. What are you bursting to say?’
Plum leaped onto her bed and jumped up and down. ‘I’m so happy. You’ll never in a million years guess what’s happened!’
Molly had never seen her friend so excited. ‘For heaven’s sake, tell me before you break all the springs in that bed.’
‘It’s William. He’s alive!’
‘Whatever do you mean?’ Molly sat down, looking puzzled. ‘Darling, your William was lost during the war. Are you feeling poorly?’ She felt concerned for Plum, who was grinning like the village idiot.
Plum sat down and said rather breathlessly, ‘I received another letter from William’s mother. It was there waiting for me when I arrived home. I believe I told you how I’d burned much of her correspondence as I feared she wanted to take Lizzie away from me.’
‘Yes, I know how worried you were,’ Molly prompted.
‘After our little escapade on the beach, I decided Lizzie ought to get to know her grandmother. If anything had happened to me, she would have been alone in the world. Yes, I know that Tilly and Spud would have cared for her, but they are elderly and they are not blood relatives,’ she added as Molly was about to speak. ‘The letter that I could have thrown onto the fire was a note to say that William had been found and he was alive.’
‘My goodness,’ Molly said. ‘What . . . ? How . . . ? Have you seen him?’
Plum grinned. ‘I was on the next train south and arrived at his mother’s home in Surrey that same evening. She couldn’t have been more charming. I accompanied her to the authorities to find out more. Although we were engaged to be married at the time of his disappearance, and I then gave birth to William’s child, it was still his mother who was listed as next of kin. We held each other’s hands throughout the myriad interviews and paperwork.’
‘Unbelievable. I’m so happy for you, Plum,’ Molly said, rushing to hug her fellow redcoat.
‘It’s all very sketchy – wretched red tape and all that – but from what I can make out, he crash-landed and was badly injured, and ended up being held by the Germans for a while. However, he was handed over to the Red Cross and brought back to England due to his injuries.’
‘Why were you not notified? It’s been so long.’
‘All that we can make out is that William was not carrying identification when he was handed over to the Germans. As he’d lost his memory, try as they might, the authorities could not locate family or even ascertain his name.’
‘My goodness, all these years. But how did they find out who he was?’
‘That is the amazing part of the story. The convalescent home encouraged him to learn to paint. You know he was an artist before the war?’
Molly nodded.
‘Well, he kept painting the same scene. A woman lying in a field watching a dogfight overhead.’
‘Isn’t that the one sketch you have of William’s?’
‘Yes, it sounds very much like it. The staff at the convalescent home built on that memory, which gradually grew until one day he remembered the name of the woman in the picture – Plum. A fellow patient who knew a little about the art world and had got to know William recognized his style and started to investigate. It took months and months, but finally, with William remembering more, and with the RAF finally able to help, my lovely man was identified.’
‘It’s such wonderful news, Plum. I’m thrilled for you. Have you seen William yet?’
‘Yesterday. It was extremely emotional. He recognized me as soon as I walked into the room. It is going to take a long time for William to be the man he once was, but the consultant in charge of his case is confident that he will regain much of his memory, and with their help and his family, we will make it happen. We’ve decided not to let Lizzie visit just yet but to leave it a month or two so he is stronger and recalls more of his past. One excitable little girl may be too much to handle at this stage, although I have told her she has a daddy. She’s been busy painting pictures for me to take to him, and also her grandmother.’
‘Another artist in the family, do you think?’
‘It looks that way,’ Plum said proudly. ‘It would have been good to have another horsewoman in the family,
though, as I’d hoped Lizzie would help me here at Butlins during the school holidays when she is a little older. However, I must first think about today, and if I don’t get a move on, there will be a queue a mile long of children waiting for rides.’
Molly smiled as she listened to her friend’s plans. It was good to know that she would continue to work at the holiday camp. She wondered if she too would be here when the next season started in 1947.
‘You both look so pretty,’ Molly exclaimed as she spotted her two young cousins, Avril and Annie, standing outside the church. The sun shone brightly. It was a wonderful day for a wedding.
‘Mummy’s been looking for you,’ Avril said. ‘She’s inside the church helping Daddy with his tie. He doesn’t like wearing one.’
‘He’s the best man.’ Annie giggled. ‘Doesn’t that sound funny?’
‘He’s a very important man today, as he has to make sure the groom is here on time so he can marry the bride,’ Molly explained. In the short time she’d known her aunt Sally and her family, she had grown to adore her two little cousins.
‘Is Uncle Johnny coming to the wedding to see me in my bridesmaid’s dress?’ Avril asked, giving a little twirl in her eau de Nil dress.
‘He is going to join us this evening. It’s a busy day at Butlins, with lots of new campers arriving. He sends his love and asked me to say that he expects to have a dance with both of you.’
The two girls dissolved into yet more giggles until Sally appeared and scolded them for messing about. ‘Try to stay tidy until the bride arrives, please, girls. Avril, stop pulling petals off your posy, and, Annie, use your handkerchief. Molly, I’m so pleased you could make it. I know Saturday is a busy day for you at the camp. Now, let’s go and find our seats, shall we? There’s someone I wish to avoid for as long as possible.’ She ushered Molly inside the cool interior of the small church. ‘I must say, I do like your outfit.’
‘Thank you. It’s just a summer frock I made before I came up to Butlins. Plum lent me a hat and bag. To be honest, I feel rather strange to be out of my Butlins uniform.’
The two women found an empty pew and knelt to say a short, silent prayer. Molly’s was for her mum and dad. She knew her mum would have enjoyed being here today to see her nieces, whom she’d never met or even known existed, looking so cute in their long dresses and white floral headbands.
The organ that had been playing quietly in the background as guests arrived struck up a loud note and the wedding procession started to walk down the aisle. Sally craned her neck to see her two girls following behind the bride, each holding a corner of her long lace veil. Both behaved impeccably. She breathed a sigh of relief, until she spotted a man sitting at the back of the church. She moved closer to Molly and whispered, ‘That’s your grandfather at the back of the church. I’m surprised the old so-and-so turned up. He’s not known for being sociable.’
Molly turned to watch the bride pass by and glanced quickly in the direction that Sally had indicated. She could see a fairly short, grey-haired man standing almost to attention as he stared straight ahead. For a moment, Molly felt he was glancing her way. He looked surprised. She turned to face the altar as the service began. So that was her grandfather Kenyon. She felt no connection to the man whatsoever.
‘Here, let me help you,’ Molly said, relieving Sally of a tray of dirty crockery. ‘Why don’t you go and enjoy yourself? I’m quite happy to help with the washing-up.’
‘I’d rather stay out here in the kitchen, if you don’t mind. Weddings can be so tiring. But you can help me if you like?’
Molly removed her cardigan and picked up a tea towel. ‘Why don’t you like weddings?’
Sally shrugged her shoulders. ‘I’m not keen on crowds and am not much of a drinker. Besides, out there I might run into my father, and at the moment I’m none too happy with him for keeping secrets and bearing grudges that should have been sorted out years ago. Even my mother went to her grave not standing up to the old bugger. It makes my blood boil when I think about it.’
‘Perhaps it’s best to let things lie now. It’s been too long, and it won’t bring my mum and dad back,’ Molly considered as she added another clean plate to the growing pile on the kitchen table.
‘He shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it. I’d like to know what it was that made my sister and her husband-to-be run away so suddenly.’ She threw her dishcloth into the bowl of hot water and dried her hands on a tea towel. ‘Come on, let’s go ask him now while I’ve got the nerve. He won’t dare argue with me if there’s a crowd about.’
Molly hurriedly dried her hands and followed her aunt through the throng of wedding-reception guests, who had spilled out into the garden and the field beyond, where children were running around excitedly. Avril and Annie were among them, no longer the demure little bridesmaids, with their hair flowing freely and their dresses tucked into the legs of their knickers so they could play. She spotted her grandfather sitting alone at the far end of the vegetable garden, a pint glass in his hand.
Sally reached Harold Kenyon first. ‘Father, I’d like you to explain to me what made my sister, Charlotte, and Norman leave the area in such a rush.’
Harold looked up at his younger child and studied her flushed face. ‘There’s no need to dig up old troubles.’ He eyed Molly, who had joined her aunt. ‘So my elder daughter has sent her child to do her dirty work after all these years? I must say you have the look of your mother, rather than that man she chose to marry.’
Molly was stung by his words. ‘No one has sent me to do their bidding. I’m here as a guest, just as you are. I, too, would like to know what it was that sent my parents away.’
He drank deeply from the glass of beer and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Your father never told you?’
‘As far as I knew, I had no family. It has only been in recent months that I found out of your existence,’ Molly said, resenting his attitude. She always thought a grandfather would be pleased to see his offspring. This bitter man seemed not to care about anybody. ‘I came across my parents’ birth certificates and two letters that were sent just after my birth. Apart from that, I have no information about my family.’
Harold Kenyon threw his beer glass to the ground, where it shattered into dozens of pieces. ‘Let’s get this clear, shall we? You are no kin of mine. Anything that comes from the loins of that thief Norman Missons has no place in my family. You can go back to where you come from and tell your mother and father just that. You can also ask them not to send a young slip of a girl to do their dirty work. It’ll be a cold day in hell when a Missons steps over my threshold.’
Molly gasped. How could he be so hurtful?
‘Father, there’s no need to speak to Molly like that.’
‘Molly, eh? He even had the cheek to name you after my wife. Be off with you back to your parents.’
Molly felt tears stinging her eyes, but she wouldn’t let this man see that he had upset her. She was proud of her parents and knew that whatever had happened before she was born, and however her parents were involved, they would never have done anything wrong. She raised her chin defiantly and stared the old man in the face. ‘I refuse to listen to your insinuations about my parents. They lived blameless lives and were held in high regard by everyone in our town. It’s a shame you didn’t witness their joint funeral and make note of the many people who turned out to pay their respects. You will not speak this way about my mum and dad unless you can prove they did wrong.’
She waited for the old man to speak, but he simply stared at her. ‘Dead, you say?’ he said eventually.
Molly stared back and nodded her head. ‘Yes, a year ago this month.’ She felt Sally reach for her hand and squeeze it tightly.
‘Father, your bitter ways have lost you your family. Now you’ll never see Charlotte again. You cannot take this to your grave. Please tell us what happened or I’ll never let you see your granddaughters again. You think you are stubborn? Think on, as I can be jus
t as stubborn as you.’
The old man looked away and cursed. ‘I help no one who has Missons blood in their veins.’
Sally put her arm round her niece and guided her away. ‘Come along, Molly. We have no time for this man.’
Molly glanced back at her grandfather. He sat hunched up, in a world of his own. He was her own flesh and blood. Things could have been so different.
21
Molly sipped the brandy her aunt Sally had picked up from the makeshift bar in the barn. It burned the back of her throat as she swallowed the amber liquid but brought her to her senses. She’d felt close to screaming. How could anyone think her kind, sensitive dad was a thief? ‘Do you think what Grandfather said is true?’
Sally thought for a moment. They’d wandered away from the wedding party and were leaning on a wooden fence close to a small paddock where a donkey grazed. ‘If you want the honest truth, Molly, I don’t know.’
‘What? You believe Dad did something criminal?’
‘No, love, that’s not what I mean. I was a child when Norman and Charlotte left the area. I can only remember the pair of them with warm affection. They were good to me, taking me out and filling my life with fun, but as to whether your dad committed a crime, I don’t know. My gut feeling is that this is some kind of misunderstanding. The old goat back there is so volatile that no one could talk sense into him. Perhaps that is why your mum and dad went away, rather than because of any wrongdoing.’
Molly thought for a moment. ‘I do believe you are right. I’d really like to get to the bottom of this and find out what happened, if only for some peace of mind. Perhaps if Mum and Dad hadn’t died so young, they would have told me what happened. I was young when the war started, and life was so hectic that the past just wasn’t discussed. I like to think that in time my parents would have told me about before they arrived in Erith and built such a wonderful life.’
The Butlins Girls Page 27