It's Now or Never

by June Francis

  The complete change of subject caught her by surprise and her mouth went dry. ‘What made you ask that?’

  ‘I suddenly thought about you not being married and Nick Rogers being adopted. No doubt his mother was unmarried as well.’

  ‘Probably.’ Lynne looked down at her feet in their sensible shoes. ‘My mother threw me on the streets and Nan was on tour with a repertory company and I didn’t know exactly where to find her. So Roberta was born in a home for unmarried mothers in Cheshire. I remember being at my wits’ end, thinking that I’d have to give her up for adoption. Fortunately Nan turned up in the nick of time.’

  ‘Were many babies given up for adoption while you were there?’

  ‘The majority of them.’ She felt fidgety. ‘Anyway, it’s your day off. Can you stop behaving like a police detective for a few hours! I want to stretch my legs.’

  ‘OK!’ He emptied the tea leaves from the cups into the waste bin before washing the cups under the tap and then placing them on the draining board. ‘You said that your grandmother was on tour …’

  She clicked her tongue against her teeth. ‘Yes, that’s right. She was a dresser and taught me a lot about what I know about dressmaking. When Bobby was a baby we used to travel around with her. I probably met Dorothy then,’ she said lightly. ‘I’m sure I’ve told you all this before. Now shall we go?’

  ‘I’m sorry. Forgive me?’ He smiled.

  ‘I suppose you can’t help yourself but no more questions.’ She rubbed her hands together and then clapped them. ‘Right! Are you ready for that walk?’

  They went out the front way and made their way along the main street. ‘Do you really want to see the abbey ruins or would you prefer a walk along the river?’ asked Sam. ‘I reckon we’d be falling over people at the ruins. There’s a path behind the abbey grounds. It’s a pleasant stroll.’

  ‘OK, I suppose I do need the exercise as much as you do,’ teased Lynne, remembering what he said earlier. She twisted from the waist in an attempt to see the size of her bottom.

  ‘I wasn’t saying you were fat! You’ve a neat little posterior.’

  She blushed. ‘Are you sure about that?’

  ‘Sure I’m sure,’ he said, grinning. ‘You’ve a trim figure and I like the colour of your hair as well.’

  Her lips twitched. ‘You don’t have to go overboard with the compliments.’

  ‘Why can’t women take compliments gracefully?’ he protested. ‘I was going to add I like the way you smile, too.’

  She laughed. ‘Stop it!

  They walked on in silence. Lynne’s thoughts returned to thinking about the home in Cheshire and Dorothy and that meant she wasn’t looking where she was going and stumbled over the root of a tree. Sam reached out a hand and grasped hers. He did not release it when she was steady but walked on. She was intensely aware of the feel of his fingers against hers but she did not drag her hand away. It was not as if he was kissing her; most likely he was simply making sure she did not slip again.

  As they came to a bridge he released her hand and they both rested their elbows on the wall and gazed down at the water. ‘I noticed you have little indentions on the balls of your fingers,’ said Sam idly.

  ‘I’m always pricking my fingers with pins and needles, that’s why,’ said Lynne. ‘Next time you have a murder suspect, if she has fingers like mine, then you’ll know what her occupation is.’

  He smiled. ‘I suppose I’d notice if I was taking her fingerprints.’

  ‘Do you do much of that?’

  ‘Years ago I did but it’s something you don’t forget.’

  ‘I suppose most criminals wear gloves now?’

  ‘If they’ve got any sense, but some still make mistakes.’ He paused. ‘Did you see that rise?’

  ‘I saw a fish coming to the surface. Was it after a fly?’

  He nodded. ‘I bet there’s a few fish in here. I used to go fishing, but never have the time now.’

  ‘Where did you go?’

  ‘When I was very small, I’d take a net to the lake in Newsham Park. When Dad gave me my first rod, I’d go to Carr Mill Dam, by St Helens, for freshwater fishing. Then when I reached my twenties, sometimes I’d travel out to Conway or Anglesey for sea fishing.’ He straightened up. ‘I took Dorothy fishing once but she hated it. It’s a very restful hobby. I’ve always thought if I had a son, we could go fishing together.’

  Lynne thought of Nick. She did not really want to believe that Dorothy could be his mother. Yet she and Sam had known each other a long time.

  They left the bridge and walked on in silence. The sun was shining through the trees, dappling the surface of the river. She thought of what Hester’s friend had said at the wedding. Dorothy was taking a chance following her dream and leaving Sam to his own devices, so she only had herself to blame if they parted. Suddenly Lynne felt such a sense of peace and happiness come over her. She had not felt such emotions for a long time and it was due to being with this man in this restful place. It was so easy just to be with him.

  By the time they arrived back at the cottage, the lunchtime rush had abated and so they were able to eat outside in the sun. The two men talked about the merits of different cars whilst Lynne and Hester discussed clothes, youngsters, crime and houses and Emma’s baby.

  It was on the way home that Sam said, ‘I couldn’t help overhearing part of your conversation with Hester. I hope what she said didn’t frighten you, talking about young criminals. We are having some trouble with youths at the moment but most of them are no different from how we used to behave when we were young.’

  ‘Can you honestly say that about Teddy Boys?’ asked Lynne.

  ‘Not all Teddy Boys are criminals and not all girls are ladylike. Some like to cause fights, egging on the lads for a bit of excitement. A lot of the powers that be blame the war but you can’t blame it for everything. Yet the fact that so many haven’t got fathers has to make a difference.’ Sam glanced at Lynne. ‘Don’t you agree?’

  ‘I wouldn’t argue, although I don’t think young Nick is the kind to get into trouble,’ she said.

  ‘Strange, I was thinking of Nick, too.’

  Her heart began to thud in that uncomfortable manner again. ‘Yes, but he has a foster father.’

  ‘That’s true.’ Sam sighed. ‘And a family now.’

  ‘And that will probably help to keep him on the straight and narrow,’ said Lynne, her heartbeat steadying. ‘Thinking of girls, your sisters have been fortunate in having a father and a brother. It must have helped them understand men better. More so than myself.’

  ‘They can still make mistakes.’

  ‘We all make mistakes. We don’t live in a perfect world,’ murmured Lynne, closing her eyes.

  ‘Why don’t you doze?’ suggested Sam. ‘It’s been quite a day.’

  ‘I will if you don’t mind,’ said Lynne, stifling a yawn. ‘I’m feeling really sleepy. It’s all that fresh air.’

  She drifted off and eventually found herself dreaming that she was waltzing with Sam to the Blue Danube and their steps were in complete harmony. Then suddenly she got into a muddle and began to tread on his toes and felt frightened. She couldn’t think why until she sensed they were being watched and she just knew that it was Dorothy standing there, laughing.

  Twenty-Six

  Dorothy stepped off the train in Lime Street with her arm in a sling and headed towards the exit. Her forehead was damp with perspiration. She had not expected it to be so hot in Liverpool and could have coped with it better if she had not been dressed for a north of England summer. Still, she was here now, having phoned the hotel when she was in London to reserve a room for one night only and telling them about her accident.

  She had returned to England sooner than she had reckoned on. The filming had gone smoothly until just a few days ago, but then she had caught her heel in the cobbles during the scenes in Rome and fallen, breaking her arm. There had been some swift rewrites of her part but at least they’d had a
wrap and even the film crew were now back in Britain.

  They and the other actors needed for the scenes in Scotland had caught the overnight train from London to Edinburgh and taken most of her luggage with them, but she had asked for time out to visit Liverpool. She had tried to get in touch with Sam but the phone in the Walker household had been engaged every time and she did not like phoning him at work. Still, she was hoping to surprise him before catching the train to Scotland and persuade him to take a couple of days off and travel north with her.

  As she passed the Adelphi Hotel and walked up Mount Pleasant with her overnight bag, she considered paying a quick visit to Lynne Donegan, as well as Sam. Stuart Anderson, whom she had seen only a few days ago, had spoken to Betty on the telephone and mentioned that Sam was giving Lynne dancing lessons. The news had stunned Dorothy because despite having given Sam leave to see Lynne in a casual way, she had not meant it. She did not trust the other woman, having noticed the way she looked at Sam, and would not put it past her to tell him the truth about where they had met during the war. She felt certain Lynne would play the sympathy card, having lost the father of her child in battle. Well, Dorothy planned to play on his sympathy, too, with all her might.

  Sam decided to call it a day. He placed the cap on his fountain pen, threw it down on the desk and yawned and stretched before reaching for the telephone. He had phoned earlier but it had just rung and rung and he had decided that perhaps Lynne was upstairs taking Aunt Ethel to the bathroom and had not heard the telephone ringing.

  He had been disappointed because he liked to hear Lynne’s voice. She talked about the little everyday things in a way that he found soothing and she also listened to what he had to say without jumping in too quickly with something she wanted to say. She always sounded amused by his jokes even if they weren’t that funny. He dialled and felt himself tense as he got the engaged signal. He put the phone down and, removing his jacket from the back of his chair, he shrugged it on.

  ‘You off then, sir?’ asked the WPC as he headed out of the door.

  ‘Yes, goodnight!’

  As he made his way to where his car was parked, Sam found himself mulling over the trip to Whalley. Lynne had impressed him with her forthrightness in telling him that she was an unmarried mother. What a tough life she’d had, being rejected by her mother, losing the man she loved but having his baby and keeping it. He admired her for bringing up her daughter with just her grandmother for help, knowing that few would have attempted it.

  Since their return from the outing to Whalley, he had enjoyed teaching her how to dance and their conversations afterwards. It was so much easier to be with her than Dorothy and they seemed to have more in common in terms of family values. None of the bickering, which was so often a feature of his dates with Dorothy, who was always so determined to live life her way. Of course, she had every right to do that when she only had herself to think about. But she didn’t! Her suggestion that he go to Italy for a week’s holiday had somehow stuck in his gullet. It was as if he was a pet dog and she was tossing him a bone. What had also annoyed him most was those words she had used the last time he had seen her. If you loved me, you would do anything to please me. No, he had to add the proviso: ‘within reason’. Did that mean he didn’t love Dorothy or he didn’t love her enough to move heaven and earth to spend a few hours with her? As he opened his car, he realized that was the sticking point in their relationship.

  After greeting Kathy at the hotel and having her bag carried up to her room, Dorothy managed with difficulty to have a quick wash down and change her blouse, as well as renew her make-up. Thank God, it was her left arm she had broken and not her right and it was a simple break. She tried phoning the Walker household again but the telephone was still engaged. Was it possible it was off the hook? She left the hotel and hailed a taxi.

  It seemed no time at all before she was knocking on the door of the Walkers’ house, hoping to catch Sam. If he was not at home, then she would go to Lynne’s house, warn her off, and then take a taxi to police headquarters. If she telephoned and he was busy then she feared that he might just tell whoever was manning the phones that he was not in the office unless it was urgent.

  The last thing she was expecting was that the Walkers’ front door should be opened by Lynne. For several moments both women could only stare at each other. Then Lynne said, ‘What have you done to yourself, Dorothy? You’d best come in.’

  ‘Got your foot in the door good and proper, have you?’ said Dorothy, who was feeling not only hot and sticky again but thoroughly fed up and, she had to admit, as scared as when she’d had the accident.

  ‘I suppose you would think that,’ said Lynne, letting out a sigh. ‘Sam’s not here if you were expecting to see him.’

  ‘Then why are you here? Getting ready for your dancing lesson?’

  Lynne smiled. ‘I am enjoying them. He’s a good teacher is Sam, and a gentleman. I suppose you’re not going to come in if Sam’s not here? Although I can make you a cup of tea. This heat’s getting to everyone and Ethel and I were just going to have a cuppa.’

  Dorothy frowned and stepped over the threshold. ‘You and Ethel?’

  Lynne nodded, leading the way up the lobby. ‘Shut the door behind you. She needs someone to keep an eye on her; she really can’t be left alone for too long now.’

  ‘I did phone several times. Is the phone off the hook?’

  ‘I’ll check. Sometimes Ethel lifts the receiver, listens and then drops it.’ Lynne found the receiver off the hook and replaced it. ‘No wonder I haven’t heard from Sam. He generally rings to ask after the old lady and tell me he’s on his way.’

  Dorothy frowned and followed her into the kitchen, glancing at Ethel who was snoring noisily in her favourite armchair. ‘Good God, she’s aged!’

  ‘That’s what Hester said when last she visited. Do make yourself at home,’ said Lynne, remaining standing with her back against the table. ‘How did you break your arm?’

  ‘A stupid accident! I caught my heel in the cobbles.’

  ‘Tough luck,’ said Lynne sympathetically. ‘So what’s happened about the filming?’

  ‘Fortunately we were well on with it and they rewrote my accident into the script. I’ve more location work to do up in Scotland and then we’re at the film studies down south.’ Dorothy sat down and opened her handbag and took out a silver cigarette case and lighter. ‘I can’t remember if you smoke or not.’

  ‘No, my grandmother had a bad chest and cigarette smoke would have only made it worse. She died not so long ago.’

  ‘You must miss her.’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ said Lynne, watching Dorothy take out a cigarette. ‘Can I help you with that?’

  ‘It’s OK. I’ve got the hang of managing now.’ Dorothy lit up and dropped lighter and cigarette case in her handbag.

  Lynne opened the window wider. ‘I’ll go and make a cup of tea.’

  She went out into the back kitchen and put on the kettle. Dorothy followed her. ‘What’s your game, Lynne?’

  Lynne glanced over her shoulder. ‘I won’t pretend I don’t know what you mean but I’d rather not discuss Sam as if he was a bone for us to bicker over. We were talking about my grandmother. She was really sorry when you didn’t come the day you left for London. Sam said you were in a hurry but Betty told me that you dropped in at the coffee bar and spoke to Lenny.’

  Dorothy raised her eyebrows. ‘What of it? Sam and I disagreed about something and Lenny’s an old friend. I’m sorry I disappointed your grandmother. Betty told me that she was quite a character.’

  Lynne spooned tea leaves into the pot. ‘I’ll never forget her.’

  ‘Because she turned up trumps when you were desperate to keep your baby?’

  Lynne looked surprised. ‘I didn’t think you’d want to talk about those days.’

  ‘Well, I do.’ She smiled faintly. ‘I thought I’d tell Sam all about it. How the baby’s father died at Dunkirk.’

  ‘That woul
d be daft! Dunkirk was in 1940.’

  Dorothy gave a twisted smile. ‘I was never any good at dates.’

  ‘Sam’s the father of your son, isn’t he?’

  Dorothy stiffened. ‘How can you possibly know that? I didn’t tell you anything about the father.’

  ‘Because …’ Lynne folded her arms across her chest and stared at her. Should I or shouldn’t I tell her?

  ‘What were you going to say?’ asked Dorothy.

  ‘If Sam isn’t the father, then why bother telling him anything about that period in your life?’

  ‘Because I don’t trust you to keep quiet about it,’ said Dorothy abruptly.

  ‘It’s only my word against yours. Don’t you think he’ll believe you if it came to choosing one of us to believe?’

  Dorothy drew on her cigarette and blew out a perfect smoke ring. Lynne continued to stare at her in a way that made Dorothy feel furious at her.

  ‘I’ve told Sam that I gave birth to Roberta in a home for unmarried mothers and that her father was killed before we could marry,’ Lynne burst out.

  The half-smoked cigarette dropped from Dorothy’s lips. ‘Bloody hell, why?’

  Lynne bent and picked up the cigarette and threw it in the sink. ‘I could say because I didn’t trust you not to tell him when you discovered he was teaching me to dance but, to be honest, I didn’t think you’d raise the subject with him. I didn’t regard myself as a threat to your relationship because you’re so beautiful. But you obviously do. Perhaps you have far more to lose than I at first realized. The scandal of being an unmarried mother wouldn’t do much for your career I imagine.’

  Dorothy’s face hardened. ‘Are you threatening me?’

  ‘No. I’m just telling it as it is.’ Lynne hesitated. ‘Thinking about what you said about Sam not being the father of your son. We both know that you knew each other years ago. I also know that he was in love with a girl called Carol and she died in the Blitz, so I know she couldn’t be the mother of his son.’

  Dorothy stilled. ‘He … he told you about Carol?’