It's Now or Never

by June Francis

  Lynne felt a once familiar ache inside her. ‘I know! She told me that to my face. I don’t think she realized how much it hurt me. Nevertheless, thank you for letting me know she kept my photograph.’

  Silence.

  Lynne smiled. ‘I’m glad you went to the coffee bar and spoke to Betty Booth. My daughter really admires her. Fancies herself as a would-be artist and enjoys sketching people. I’d like her to be a teacher and earn a regular wage.’

  He smiled. ‘Pa would say that most parents want what’s best for their children.’

  ‘It’s true. He sounds a sensible man, your father,’ said Lynne.

  Stuart nodded. ‘He’d like to meet you and your daughter.’

  ‘Oh,’ Lynne was taken aback. ‘I don’t think …’

  ‘There’s no rush for you to decide,’ said Stuart hastily. ‘I’ll say no more on that score right now. I rather threw that at you.’ He leaned forward. ‘Tell me … Miss Booth … does she have family?’

  ‘I don’t know a lot about her,’ said Lynne. ‘I have a feeling my daughter told me that her father was killed in the war and that her mother is dead. She has her own flat and several cousins. I think one of them is married to a friend of Hester Walker. She’s the one who told me where you were staying.’

  Stuart stared at her. ‘I think I met her brother today. I certainly met a Sam Walker who was with the actress Dorothy Wilson.’

  ‘What do you think of her?’ asked Lynne casually.

  ‘She sure is a knockout and he’s a good-looking guy.’

  ‘Yes, one could say they make a perfect couple,’ said Lynne brightly.

  ‘Looks are only skin deep,’ he said seriously.

  ‘My mother always thought they were important.’ She sighed. ‘It feels strange knowing she’s dead and that there’s no chance of me ever seeing her again.’

  ‘If Pa and I had known, I could have visited you and your daughter when I was over here in ‘forty-eight,’ said Stuart, reaching out and touching her hand. ‘At least I can tell you that I do have something of hers for you.’

  ‘What?’ asked Lynne, surprised.

  ‘A couple of pieces of your mother’s jewellery that Pa was determined you should have if I found you.’

  ‘Really?’

  From an inside pocket Stuart took a small pouch of soft damson leather and handed it to her. ‘She brought them from England and wore them every Sunday. She told me they were Victorian and from the port where Dracula landed in England.’

  Lynne wasted no time loosening the drawstrings of the pouch. When she tipped it upside down, out slid a necklace of silver and jet beads and matching silver and jet earrings. ‘I remember these,’ she said, a smile curving her lips. ‘Mother told me they had been in the family for years. The stones were found on Whitby beach and it was there that they were made into jewellery.’

  ‘She told me that it was famous for its jet.’

  ‘Yes, it was very popular with Victorian women when they were in mourning. She didn’t often wear them, just on Sundays and for my father’s funeral.’ Lynne let the beads run through her fingers, remembering her mother telling her that the jewellery was worth a bob or two. ‘I really do appreciate you bringing these to me. You will thank your father for me, won’t you?’

  ‘You could thank him yourself. Pa would sure love to meet you and your daughter. He thought that if I found you that maybe you could come back with me after my trip to Europe when I return to the States in a few months’ time?’

  Lynne sighed and said regretfully, ‘I’d like to and I’m sure Roberta would, too, but I couldn’t leave my grandmother and she’s not well enough to travel so far.’

  Stuart looked disappointed. ‘Well, when the pair of you are able to come, let us know. You don’t have to worry about the fare, we’ll take care of that.’

  Lynne was touched. ‘That’s kind of you but I couldn’t accept.’

  ‘Why not? We’re family!’

  She smiled. ‘I appreciate you saying that. Shall we just wait and see? And could you do me a favour and allow me to keep this photo of you and your family and my mother, so I can show it to Roberta?’

  ‘Sure you can. I have the negative back home. I can also let you have the photograph your mother kept of you.’ He reached into a pocket and took it out.

  Lynne placed the other photograph on the mantelpiece before taking the one of her that her mother had kept all these years. She gazed down at her younger self and tears pricked her eyes. ‘I wish she had told you about us earlier and we had met in ‘forty-eight. I wouldn’t have carried so much hurt and anger around with me for so long,’ she said unsteadily.

  He squeezed her hand. ‘Well, we’ve met now and Pa and I don’t want to lose touch with you and Roberta.’

  She nodded. ‘If we can’t visit your father just yet, we can write.’

  He agreed and released her hand. ‘And now I must go. I can see you’re busy and I’ve a lot to do before leaving tomorrow. I’ll send you a postcard from the different places I’ll visit and God willing I’ll be back in a couple of months.’ He stood up and leaned down and kissed her cheek. ‘Until the next time, Lynne.’

  ‘Until the next time,’ she echoed.

  She walked with him to the front door and waved him off. Their time together might have been short but it had been good. Her mother’s death had come as a shock but at least she could be grateful to her for not forgetting about her completely and for providing her with a stepbrother. She had always wanted a brother and it might prove useful for her daughter having family connections in America. This evening she was going to a friend’s house straight from school, so Lynne decided not to tell Nan about Stuart’s visit until Roberta arrived home.

  Stuart’s visit was still playing over in Lynne’s head when Hester arrived that evening. She led her into the front room and helped her off with her coat, asking after her sister.

  ‘I’m sorry, but Jeanette couldn’t make it.’

  ‘What a shame.’

  Hester agreed. ‘She did give me her measurements if you wanted to buy the material and just allow a bit extra in case they’re not perfect.’

  Lynne nodded but decided she would do no cutting until she measured Jeanette herself.

  ‘I spoke to our Sam,’ said Hester, smiling. ‘He told me that he bumped into you at the hotel. Then shortly after he and Dorothy met Stuart Anderson outside the Philharmonic pub and told him about seeing you. What I want to know is whether the Yank came to visit you?’

  Lynne wondered what else Sam had told his sister about her but did not ask, telling her instead about Stuart’s visit as she took out her tape measure.

  Hester’s eyes widened. ‘Goodness me! Perhaps your mother was once a girl guide and went camping when she was younger.’

  ‘She never mentioned it. Anyway, she wouldn’t have been taught what to do if she confronted a bear in the wild.’ Lynne shuddered. ‘When you think we regard bears as cuddly.’

  ‘I know. Our Jeanette loved her teddy bear.’ Hester held out her arms so Lynne could measure her bust.

  Lynne continued with her story and Hester marvelled. ‘Such generosity! It’s a pity your mother didn’t think of inviting you to California, all expenses paid. She might not have gone camping.’

  Lynne giggled, although she knew that really what had happened wasn’t the least bit funny. It must be nerves making her behave the way she was. ‘Poor mother and my poor stepfather! Anyway, let’s stick to the matter in hand. You’ve a good figure and I’m really looking forward to seeing this gown finished. I bet your future husband counts himself a fortunate man.’

  Hester’s eyes softened. ‘I think I’m the luckiest woman alive. Ally’s kind, understanding and has a great sense of humour.’ She paused. ‘Our Jeanette is hoping to get married next year, so there could be more work for you in the future. It’s no use passing my wedding gown on to her. It would need altering too much. I can give her five inches in height and she’s slimmer than me. Sh
e takes after her mother. Whereas Sam and I take after our father.’ She glanced at Lynne. ‘What did you think of my brother?’

  ‘You’re lucky having him for a brother,’ said Lynne before she could stop herself. ‘I mean, except for my father and Robert, I’ve had little to do with men. At least having a brother means you grow up used to men’s ways. I was only young when my father died.’

  ‘You must come to the wedding,’ said Hester, taking Lynne by surprise. ‘You don’t have to worry about buying a wedding present. Your work on this dress is enough and I don’t expect a reduction either. I can afford it.’

  Lynne felt a rush of pleasure. ‘That’s kind of you. Are you sure you want me there?’

  ‘I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t. Do come! I bet you don’t get out much to have fun, what with a teenage daughter and an old granny. Will Bobby be OK looking after your grandmother?’

  ‘Oh yes, they get on well together. I’d like to see you married.’

  ‘Then come! Unless you feel it would be wrong, what with you just hearing about your mother’s death?’

  ‘That wouldn’t stop me going,’ said Lynne. ‘I grieved for the loss of my mother years ago. I suppose the famous actress will be there?’

  Detecting the note in her voice, Hester darted her a look. ‘Don’t you like her?’

  Lynne flushed as she rolled up her tape measure. ‘I don’t really know her.’

  ‘Sam said that she was rude to you.’

  Lynne felt a quiver go through her. ‘Really! Well, she did kind of ignore me but maybe that was because she had to go back upstairs for her outdoor clothes.’

  Hester looked thoughtful and only said, ‘Anyway, you must come to the wedding. I’ll send you a proper invitation. Now can I see my material?’

  ‘Of course!’

  Lynne fetched the parcel and unwrapped it on the table. She watched as Hester fingered the ivory brocade satin with a rapt expression on her face. ‘I really like it,’ she said.

  ‘You’ll look lovely. You won’t know yourself when you see yourself in the finished gown,’ said Lynne, thinking of those brides whose bridal finery she had created in the past. It always gave her a thrill when brides saw their reflections in the mirror.

  ‘I hope you’re right,’ said Hester, touching her cheek with the fabric.

  ‘Of course I’m right,’ retorted Lynne, smiling. ‘Now how about a cup of tea?’

  ‘I don’t mind if I do,’ said Hester, wrapping the material in its brown paper again.

  Hester was just on her way out when Roberta arrived home. They exchanged greetings and then said goodnight and parted.

  ‘So is she happy with the material for her wedding dress?’ asked Roberta.

  ‘She chose it, so of course she is,’ said Lynne, feeling suddenly overwhelmingly weary.

  ‘Cocoa?’ asked her daughter.

  ‘Thanks!’ said Lynne, flopping into an armchair. ‘I’ve something to tell you both. I had another visitor today.’

  Nan and Roberta stared at her. ‘Well, tell us?’ asked her daughter.

  ‘Stuart Anderson!’

  Roberta gaped. ‘What did he have to say?’

  ‘His father was married to my mother.’

  ‘Was!’ exclaimed Roberta.

  ‘She’s dead.’ Lynne told them all about her meeting with Stuart. They showed suitable astonishment and amazement.

  ‘I wish I’d been here,’ sighed Roberta. ‘Do you think he’ll send us a postcard from Italy?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Lynne, smiling. ‘He said he’d send us several postcards and I wouldn’t be surprised if he sent Betty Booth one too. He seemed interested in her.’

  ‘It’s a pity they won’t be in Italy at the same time,’ said Roberta.

  Lynne smiled. ‘Now d’you want to see the jewellery?’

  Nan and Roberta watched as Lynne emptied the necklace and earrings on to her lap. ‘They don’t look much,’ said Roberta, disappointed. ‘Like shiny bits of coal.’

  ‘Looks can be deceptive,’ said Nan. ‘Made in Whitby and it wouldn’t surprise me if that’s where some of your ancestors came from. Thousands and thousands of people flooded into Liverpool during Victorian times by sea or rail. It was the place to find work with ships coming and going, bringing tobacco and sugar and cotton and exporting goods across the Atlantic and to all parts of the Empire. Houses were being built at a rate of knots but there were also the emigration ships carrying people out of Liverpool, too.’

  ‘All right, Nan! We get the message that you were a girl in Liverpool’s latter Victorian heyday,’ said Roberta, reaching for the necklace on Lynne’s lap. ‘So this is your inheritance, Mam. Pity it’s not gold.’

  ‘Jet’s rare and valuable,’ said Nan.

  Roberta said, ‘Perhaps you should sell it, Mam. I like the idea of going to California. I could sing that song “California, here I come”.’ She left the room to make the cocoa.

  Nan and Lynne winked at each other.

  ‘So you’ve an invitation to go to America,’ wheezed Nan.

  Lynne was silent a moment. ‘I’d like Bobby to go. But I don’t like the idea of my stepfather paying for us to travel all the way to California. If I sold the jewellery then she could still go but she’d need a whole new wardrobe.’ She paused. ‘I’ve had another invitation too – from Hester Walker. She’s invited me to her wedding.’

  ‘That’s great! You don’t get out enough,’ said Roberta, catching the tail end of what Lynne was saying as she came in from the back kitchen with a steaming jug of cocoa. ‘You’re going to need a new dress.’

  ‘You think?’ said Lynne.

  Roberta and Nan stared at Lynne. ‘You want to knock them all dead, girl,’ said the old woman firmly.

  As she was drinking her cocoa, Lynne had an idea. ‘Bobby, I want you to go into Central Library and look for a particular book for me some time soon.’

  ‘What’s it called?’ she asked.

  ‘I can’t remember off the top of my head but it’ll come to me,’ said Lynne, her eyes gleaming. She only hoped that what she had in mind was not beyond her capabilities.

  Twelve

  The following Saturday Roberta left the bus in Lime Street and headed for the Central Library. She wondered if she would see those youths from the Boys’ Institute again and, sure enough, the fair-haired one was there. She remembered his friend calling him Nick. He was consulting a book and making notes. As she searched the section on books of costume and fashion, she could not help glancing at him and wondering if his friend would be joining him.

  She took two books from the shelf and went over to a table and sat down. Able to borrow only one of the books, she delved into her knapsack and removed a sketch pad and a couple of pencils. She opened the book on fashion through the ages and began to sketch several drawings of women’s undergarments from the beginning of the century. The other book was the one her mother had wanted and she would take that home because it contained Edwardian fashion plates of some really eye-catching gowns.

  Engrossed in what she was doing, it took her ten minutes or so to become aware that she was being watched by Nick. As she looked his way, he swiftly lowered his head and carried on writing, so that all she could see now was his profile, but she had seen enough to cause her fingers to itch. I like the shape of his skull, she thought, turning over a page of her drawing pad and, in a few swift strokes, she had a recognizable sketch of his head.

  She heard the sound of a chair being pushed back and glanced up and saw that it was him making the noise. Was he going or just exchanging the book for another one?

  He did not return to the table so she presumed he had left the library. She grimaced, thinking that she would have liked to have more time to make a better drawing of him. Hopefully she might spot him again here at the Central. She did a sketch of a bust bodice and decided to call it a day, as she wanted to drop in at the coffee bar. She had the library book stamped and left the building, heading across town to Hope Street,
having arranged to meet a classmate there but she was also hoping to see Betty.

  Every table appeared to be taken and most of the customers seemed to be talking at the top of their voices whilst Tennessee Ernie’s ‘Give Me Your Word’ came from the jukebox. She spotted Betty and waved to her. After a minute or two the older girl came over to her.

  ‘I know what’s brought you here,’ Betty smiled. ‘Jeanette told me that your mother had a visit from the American. Apparently he’s your mum’s stepbrother.’

  ‘Yes, I’m really chuffed about it for Mam’s sake. They had a really good talk and his father would like us to visit. He sent her some of my grandmother’s jewellery. Apparently it’s real jet and was very popular in Victorian times.’

  ‘He sounds a nice man.’

  ‘Mam certainly liked his son. I wonder with him being her stepbrother, whether I should call him Uncle Stuart,’ murmured Roberta. ‘Anyway, he’s going to send us postcards from Europe and we’ll be seeing him when he gets back here.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad he turned out to be a respectable person,’ said Betty, her eyes twinkling. ‘Anyway, I’d best get on with my work.’

  ‘You haven’t seen my school friend, Thelma, have you? I’m supposed to be meeting her here,’ said Roberta.

  Betty nodded. ‘She came in, looked around and went out again.’

  ‘Damn,’ muttered Roberta. ‘Trust her to be early and not wait.’

  ‘She might come back,’ said Betty.

  ‘But there’s nowhere to sit!’

  Betty glanced around. ‘Those two girls over there by the mother-in-law’s tongue look like they’ll be going soon. It’s a table for four, so you might have to share. But go over there now and hover.’