Time Goes By

by Margaret Thornton

  ‘Gee! That’s great!’ said Carl, always the most outspoken of the three, forever optimistic and ready to see the best in all situations. ‘A long-lost sister over in little old England! It’s like a fairy story, Dad. When can we meet her?’

  But Anne-Marie’s response was rather different. She was always more cautious, which was probably the reason she had not married at a very early age as the other two had done. She was also a very sympathetic sort of girl.

  ‘That poor little girl!’ she said. ‘Just imagine how sad it must have been for her, her mother disappearing like that and leaving her all alone. Honestly, Dad, I’m very surprised at our mom. How could she have done it?’

  Nat had already tried to explain that Barbara had had no choice; her first husband had been such an intransigent sort of fellow. Also, he admitted, a little embarrassedly, that she had already been expecting a baby – Beverley. He told them how he and Barbara had been so very much in love, and that he was due to be sent overseas for the final assault on Europe. It had been a traumatic time for both of them.

  ‘I have no idea what little Kathy was told,’ he said. ‘I know, though, that she would have been very well looked after by her father, and particularly, I guess, by her aunt. I never met Winifred, but Barbara always spoke very highly of her.’

  Beverley had had time to think about the situation. ‘You must contact her, Dad, as soon as possible,’ she said. ‘I have a feeling, somehow, that she’s just found out where her mother might be and she wants to get in touch with her. It’ll be a shock to find that she’s … no longer with us.’ It was a euphemism, she knew, but the word ‘dead’ sounded so harsh and final. ‘After all, Mom was young, wasn’t she? Katherine would expect her to be still living. Perhaps you should write to her first of all, Dad, and then speak to her later on the phone? But it’s down to you, of course. How do you feel about it?’

  ‘Yes, that’s the best idea,’ he agreed. ‘I’ve been stunned by this, as you all have. And many, many times I’ve agonised about my own share of guilt in all this. I didn’t like to talk too much to your mother about little Kathy; it was so painful for her. But now, maybe there’s a way of putting things right. As I told you, she was such a cute, lovable little kid. If she’s grown up in the same way, and I’ve a feeling she will have done, then I know we’d all like to meet her.’

  ‘Kathy, there’s a letter here for you from America,’ Tim called out to his wife one morning in mid November. He took it into the living room where Kathy was making sure that the children – Sarah, aged eight, and Chris, aged six – had all they needed before departing for school: PE kit; recorder and music book; last night’s homework; and their dinner money, as it was a Monday morning.

  Her face lit up with pleasure. ‘Gosh, that’s great!’ she exclaimed. ‘I’ll read it when these two have gone,’ she added in a quieter voice.

  ‘I’m dying to know what it says as well,’ said Tim, who had been just as excited as she had been after she had made contact with America. She had been a little worried at first, wondering what she had done. Would they really be pleased to hear from her? By now she had convinced herself that they would. That young woman, Beverley, had sounded very nice, if you could tell from a voice, and had promised that she would ask her father to get in touch.

  ‘Listen,’ Tim went on. ‘I’ll just drop these two off at school, then I’ll come back and we’ll read it together, OK? There’s no rush to get to work now I’m one of the bosses!’ Kathy knew, though, that he was joking and that he worked just as hard as any of the employees.

  ‘All right; I’ll wash up while I’m waiting,’ she said.

  Tim was back in less than fifteen minutes and they sat together on the settee as Kathy tore open the flimsy blue and red envelope. ‘I’ll read it out to you,’ she said.

  ‘My dear Katherine,’ the letter began. ‘My daughter, Beverley, told me that you had phoned. You won’t remember me. I am Nathaniel – known as Nat – Castillo, and I met you in Blackpool when you were a tiny girl, just about one year old. I can only guess that you are trying to find out about your mother, Barbara, the dear girl whom I married in 1945. Kathy, my dear, I am not sure how much or how little you know, but I must tell you that Barbara and I had almost twenty-eight very happy years together. I am sorry to have to give you the sad news, though, that my dear wife … died … in the January of this year …’ Kathy’s voice faltered as she read the last sentence, then she burst into tears.

  ‘Oh Tim! How dreadful! I thought I’d found her. I made myself believe I was going to meet her, and now … this!’

  He put his arm round her and she leant her head against his shoulder. ‘I never knew her,’ she murmured, her voice husky with tears, ‘but this is so very sad. Why didn’t my father tell me about her? If only he had told me … even a year ago, then I could have gone to meet her. And now it’s too late. I’m finding it very hard to forgive what he did to me, telling me all those lies. I tried to understand, and I thought maybe we could make things right, my mother and me. But she’s … she’s gone!’ She was not crying now, just shaking her head sadly and unbelievingly.

  ‘I’ll read the rest of it to you, shall I?’ said Tim gently. Kathy nodded.

  ‘I am truly sorry to have to impart such sad news,’ Tim read. ‘My dear wife had cancer, so you will understand how tragic it has been for us. But I do know that she, too, wanted to get in touch with you, Kathy. I found a half-written letter to you that I can only assume she became too poorly to finish.

  ‘I won’t say any more now, but I would very much like to speak with you over the phone. I have your telephone number, so how would it be if I phone you on the last day of November – it’s a Friday – at 8pm, your time? That will be early afternoon for us over here. We can have a chat and exchange news about our families. I expect you have children, Kathy? Barbara and I had three children – two daughters and a son – and now they have learnt about you they are all longing to meet you.

  ‘With my kindest regards, Nat Castillo.’

  Kathy was more composed by the time Tim had finished reading. ‘Well, I think that’s a splendid letter,’ he said. ‘I’m really sorry about your mother, darling, but this Nat seems a real nice sort of fellow. And he remembered you, didn’t he?’

  ‘So it seems,’ said Kathy. She smiled sadly. ‘I know they say that what you never have you never miss. And I never knew her, did I? Barbara, my mother … But I can’t help feeling there’s a great emptiness … here.’ She touched the region of her heart. ‘How I used to wish, when I was a little girl, that I had brothers and sisters, like my friends had. Shirley, in particular – you remember, Tim? I was so envious of her having a little sister and an older brother. And now I find I’ve got two sisters and a brother at the other side of the world. Ironic, isn’t it?’

  ‘Not really the other side of the world, love,’ said Tim. ‘Australia’s the other side of the world. America isn’t all that far away, comparatively speaking. And Nat says they all want to meet you. Just think about that!’

  ‘Let’s wait and see what he has to say when he phones,’ said Kathy. ‘My head’s in a whirl, Tim. It’s all happened so quickly, I can scarcely take it in.’

  Nat Castillo phoned, as he had promised, at the appointed time. His voice, though so far away, came over loud and clear, and Kathy felt at once the warmth and sincerity of this man who had been married to her mother. They spoke for half an hour or so; he said not to worry about the cost – they had a lot of catching up to do. Kathy learnt of her half-sisters, Beverley and Anne-Marie, and her half-brother, Carl; and also a half-nephew and half-niece, Freddie and Patsy-Lou – they would be half-cousins to her Sarah and Chris? she pondered.

  Nat told her how he and her mother had met at the Tower Ballroom and had very quickly fallen in love. ‘I knew she was married,’ he said, ‘but I guess it made no difference to the way we felt. I just hope you can understand and forgive us, Kathy. It was heartbreaking for your mother. She had no choice, though,
but to do what she did. I’m only sorry that you haven’t had the chance to meet her. She was a wonderful lady …’ His voice faltered as it did more than once as he spoke of her. ‘I’ll write again,’ he promised, ‘and send some snapshots.’

  Another letter with the photos arrived in a few weeks’ time, after Kathy had replied to the first letter. She had told Nat of her disappointment and sorrow that she was too late to meet her mother, but of how delighted she was to hear of her three step-siblings.

  Kathy gasped, and so did Tim, when they looked at the photos that Nat had sent.

  ‘Wow! She looks just like you,’ he said. ‘You could be twin sisters.’

  The image he was referring to was that of her mother, Barbara. One was a family group – Barbara and Nat, whom they agreed appeared to be a nice, friendly sort of guy, and the three children, taken several years ago, Nat explained, before the eldest two had married. Beverley resembled her father more than her mother, and so did the son, Carl. They had the same fairish mid-brown hair and wide smiling mouths. The younger girl, Anne-Marie, looked more like her mother. She was dark-haired and petite, although a little on the plump side.

  So was Barbara, Kathy noticed. She had a full face and a nicely rounded figure, dark curling hair, and the expression in her brown eyes was the very same that Kathy saw when she looked in the mirror. Barbara looked relaxed and happy; and Kathy felt, again, a momentary sadness. Why did it have to happen like this, only a year too late?

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Over in Vermont the Castillo family agreed that the wrong that had been done to Katherine all those years ago must be put right, or as right as they could possibly make it. Anne-Marie was to be married in early August. What a splendid idea it would be if Katherine and her husband and children were to be there as well.

  The invitation arrived in the February of 1974, and Kathy and Tim wasted no time in making all the necessary arrangements. Sarah and Chris were thrilled at the prospect of flying in an aeroplane all the way to America, but no more so than their parents; it would be their first flight as well.

  There was all the excitement of getting passports, visas, and buying new clothes and suitcases, before they boarded the aeroplane at Manchester airport one early afternoon in August. They touched down in Boston some seven hours later. It was evening now by their reckoning, but it was still afternoon in the USA. It was certainly going to be a long day ahead of them!

  No one was sleepy, though, with the myriad sounds and sights and impressions that followed one another in quick succession. They had no difficulty in finding Nat or, rather, he found them. He hugged Kathy, making her feel at home right away, and shook hands with Tim and the children. Then they were all bundled into his Cadillac and were soon on their way along the wide straight highways leading north.

  They travelled at a speed they had never experienced before, but were not scared because the roads, though busy, did not appear so, and the traffic was well controlled. Back home in England the motorways were starting to be congested at busy times, with aggravating hold-ups and traffic jams. But there was so much more space over here, Kathy mused, as they travelled mile after mile through scenery that became more beautiful – with mountains, river valleys, and great stretches of verdant trees and pasture land – as they went northwards.

  The Castillo family home, where only Nat resided now, along with his live-in employees, was a comfortable, homely hotel, now partially converted to a motel. It was very different from Holmleigh, the hotel-cum-boarding house where Kathy had lived as a child. There was plenty of room for the Fielding family, especially as Nat had restricted the number of guests staying there in the weeks leading up to and following Anne-Marie’s wedding.

  The following day Kathy and her family had the pleasure of meeting some of the members of Nat’s large family – his brother and sister, and just a few of their six sons and daughters; and there were numerous grandchildren who would all be present at the wedding. Nat’s mother and father – Mom and Pop – now well into their eighties but still spry both in body and in mind. They told Kathy how much they had loved Barbara and how her death had saddened them.

  ‘But now you’re here with us, my dear,’ said the old man. ‘We couldn’t be more delighted to see you and your family. Gee! It’s almost like having Barbara back with us, isn’t it, Martha?’

  The dear, old, rosy-cheeked lady nodded and smiled. She hugged Kathy. ‘Yes, it sure is wonderful,’ she said. ‘And you’ve brought a smile back to our Nat’s face, honey!’

  Then there were her half-siblings: Beverley, her husband Greg and their five-year-old son, Freddie. Beverley was the young woman whom Kathy had spoken to on the phone – they had conversed again since that first call – and she proved to be just as friendly and welcoming as her voice had suggested she would be. It was Beverley who spoke out loud what was in all their minds.

  ‘You’re more like Mom than any of us,’ she said, ‘and we sure are glad to meet you at last.’ The two half-sisters, less than two years apart in age, hugged one another without any restraint, just a real feeling of sisterhood. They knew at once that the two of them, possibly even more so than the rest of the family, would become firm friends.

  There was Carl too, with his wife Donna, and their cute little two-year-old Patsy-Lou; and Anne-Marie with her ruggedly handsome fiancé, Bruce, who would be married in a few days’ time.

  The wedding took place at a typical New England church, a white wooden building with a tall spire, on top of a hill and surrounded by maple trees. The church was almost full with the many wedding guests – countless numbers of relatives of both the bride and groom as well as numerous friends – and other well-wishers too, who had come along to share in the joy of the popular young couple.

  The reception afterwards was held at the family hotel, an informal affair where Kathy and Tim and their children had the pleasure of meeting their many new relatives, and friends of the family too, who had heard of the daughter back in England.

  Anne-Marie and Bruce had planned a honeymoon in San Francisco, far away on the west coast of the USA. They were to set off on the long journey later that evening; but before that, as Anne-Marie told Kathy, there was something that she wanted to do.

  They left their children behind in the care of the many relatives, then Nat and his three children and their spouses, with Kathy and Tim, made their way, in two cars, back to the same church on the hill.

  Barbara’s grave was in a secluded spot at the edge of the cemetery, beneath an overhanging willow tree. There were flowers in the glowing colours of late summer – red roses, yellow and orange dahlias and early flowering chrysanths – in a large earthenware vase. They looked fresh and vibrant, and Kathy guessed that Nat renewed them frequently.

  The family group stood in silence as Anne-Marie placed her wedding bouquet of white roses next to the vase of flowers. ‘God bless you, Mom,’ she said quietly. It was Anne-Marie’s day and she wanted her beloved mother to be a part of it.

  Kathy read the gold lettering on the black marble headstone.

  ‘Barbara Jane Castillo, 1920–1973. Beloved wife of Nat and dearest mother of Beverley, Carl and Anne-Marie.’ And below, in brighter letters that must have been added fairly recently, ‘And mother of Katherine, in England.’

  Kathy’s eyes misted with tears. ‘Thank you, thank you …’ she whispered. ‘That is … so lovely.’ Beverley, standing next to her, took hold of her hand and they smiled at one another.

  Kathy’s heart was too full for words. She felt very close to the mother she had never known. She knew that not meeting Barbara was something she would always regret. But now she had found two sisters and a brother … and England and the USA were not all that far apart.

  Author’s Note

  The question I am most frequently asked as a novelist is ‘Where do you get your ideas?’ It is not easy to answer. Sometimes they just happen, but more often they arise from an incident in my own life or in that of a member of my family or a fr
iend. In this novel it was an incident in the life of my sister-in-law, Linda, that gave me the initial idea, and I thank her for that.

  The story, however, is a work of fiction, and all the characters and happenings therein exist only in my mind.

  I decided to set this book in my hometown of Blackpool, as I did with my earlier books. The setting of Blackpool is, of course, real, and the boarding house where the Leigh family live resembles the one in North Shore where I was born and lived as a child.

  The childhood memories are mine, as are the recollections of the day to day life of a primary school, experienced during my time as a teacher of infant and junior school children.

  We hope you enjoyed this book.

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  About the Author

  MARGARET THORNTON was born in Blackpool and has lived there all her life. She was a teacher for many years but retired early in order to concentrate on writing. She has had twenty novels published.

  By Margaret Thornton

  Above the Bright Blue Sky

  Down an English Lane

  A True Love of Mine

  Remember Me

  Until We Meet Again

  Time Goes By

  Copyright