Home Is Where the Heart Is

by Freda Lightfoot

  Here she paused, sucking in her breath, her eyes clouding over with a sickening horror before going on to describe how he had tossed the poor girl into the canal. ‘Just as if she were a rag doll he no longer wanted to play with.’

  Steve uttered a silent curse under his breath.

  ‘I must have gasped or cried out because he spun around, his furious gaze scouring the towpath and banking. I’m afraid I ran away at that point, hell for leather. A cowardly thing to do, I know, but I was afraid that if I hung around, I might be next.’

  ‘Did you tell the police what you saw?’

  The girl gave a sad shake of her head. ‘Sorry, no. I didn’t have the courage to do that either.’

  ‘Wouldn’t that have been the right thing to do?’

  ‘Barbara has enough problems of her own to deal with right now,’ said her sister. ‘Not least the loss of her child, as well as the man she loved.’

  ‘She has my sympathy on that score. The war has done enormous damage to many, but this blighter can’t be allowed to create more mayhem. He needs to be arrested. Would you come with me now to tell the police what you witnessed?’

  ‘Ooh, I don’t know. I’d need to think about that,’ Barbara said in tremulous tones.

  ‘Please do, but don’t take too long over it. He’s proving to be a dangerous man. If he remains free he could do the same thing to another woman, or to my friend.’ Turning to her sister, he added, ‘He could even attack Barbara herself if he spotted her as she ran away, or ever finds out who she is. I found her easily enough, so why couldn’t he?’

  This gave the two sisters pause for thought as they stared at each other in dawning dismay. ‘But even if she did tell, he might well take his revenge out on her,’ her sister responded, sounding deeply anxious. ‘So talking to the police could be very risky.’

  Since Ryman had chosen to take his revenge upon him too, Steve found it difficult to dispute this argument. ‘Please think about, that’s all I ask.’

  Promising they would give him an answer soon, Steve found himself ushered out of the house and the door slammed shut. Drawing in a heavy sigh of despair, he walked away. He could but hope that the girl would come round in the end. Then if the police took her witness statement seriously, Ryman could be dealt with, and Cathie would be safe at last. In the meantime, until he was certain that this friend of Davina’s was prepared to act as witness, he didn’t feel it would be wise for him to reveal to Cathie the full horror of what Alex had done. Fortunately, she was already taking much safer precautions against him, so there was no rush.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  The weeks passed by in a blur of happiness, and despite Steve being busy on his teaching course he always managed to find time to call in at the flat for a chat or cup of tea at least two or three evenings each week. Sometimes he would take Cathie to the Hippodrome, the Palace, or to the flicks. On a Saturday afternoon, they would enjoy a walk in Peel Park or take a bus across to Philip’s Park through which the River Medlock ran. Sitting holding hands on a sunny autumn day while little Heather played was a joy to her heart. They never went anywhere near the canal and carefully avoided any conversation on Davina’s fate, the subject of Alex being very firmly blocked out. Their friendship had blossomed into something really rather wonderful.

  Fortunately, there was never any problem now in finding a babysitter, as Rona was always happy to oblige. Alex still rented a room at her mother’s house, but she assured Cathie that their relationship was strictly businesslike.

  One evening, Steve arranged to meet Cathie at the Gaumont cinema on Oxford Road to see It’s a Wonderful Life. Christmas was approaching and stamping her feet in freezing temperatures she felt a little concerned that he was yet again late, as so often seemed to be the case. As she waited for him to arrive, Cathie found herself reliving the grief she’d felt at hearing of the death of her beloved sister after she’d visited this same cinema. So much had changed since that day early in 1945 when the bus bringing Sally home had crashed, and Cathie’s loss felt as raw as ever. Sal would ever be in her heart, and hopefully in little Heather’s too one day, when she learned more about her real mum. Right now, Cathie was the only mummy the child knew and loved, which felt like some kind of consolation for them both.

  Realising the rest of the queue had entered the cinema and she was left standing alone, she glanced at her watch and then down the street. Where was Steve? The film would be starting soon, and it was far too cold to stand about too long outside. Deciding to go in and take their usual seats near the back where he’d be sure to find her, Cathie paid for a ticket and sat listening to the cinema organ playing ‘Every Time We Say Goodbye’ by Cole Porter. It brought back the anguish she used to feel whenever Alex had returned to war following a short leave, as if she really would die a little. But then he’d returned a changed man and, unknown to her, had engaged in an affair. How foolish she’d been to agree to marry him so soon after he’d returned home before they’d even got to know each other again.

  The film had been running for at least half an hour when finally she heard a shuffle of feet and Steve sank with a sigh on to the seat beside her. ‘Sorry I’m so late, love,’ he said, taking her hand and giving it a tender kiss. ‘I’ll explain later.’

  Thoroughly engrossed in the heart-warming story where James Stewart suffers all manner of traumas but is saved by a guardian angel, Cathie just wished her lovely sister had been so fortunate. But then this was a magical Christmas yarn, not real life.

  As they walked to the tram stop, arm in arm, Steve repeated his apology, begging her forgiveness.

  ‘I assumed you must be working hard,’ Cathie said, not wishing to make a fuss.

  ‘It’s true, I have been working hard, but there’s something I need to tell you.’

  Smiling up him, heart thumping, she asked, ‘Oh, and what might that be?’ Was he about to tell her that he loved her, just as she knew in her heart that she loved him? A tram pulled up and they got on-board, thankful to be out of the cold. Cuddled up close on a wooden seat, nothing more was said as there were far too many people around to engage in a private conversation.

  They disembarked at the stop just off Deansgate near to Liverpool Road, but it was not until they were approaching the flat that, taking a breath, he said, ‘The reason I’m sometimes late, or find myself obliged to call off our evening out, is because of a family problem.’

  ‘We all seem to be suffering from those,’ Cathie said with a sigh, thinking that perhaps his mother had been fussing over him too much, as she tended to do at times.

  ‘The fact is I recently discovered that Maggie, my late wife, who was killed in a bombing raid, had given birth to a child without telling me.’

  Cathie stopped in her tracks to stare at him, utterly stunned. This was the last thing she’d expected to hear. ‘Goodness, why would she do that?’ Then remembering how reluctant she too had been to reveal little Heather’s existence to Alex, gently asked, ‘Was there a problem she didn’t wish to trouble you with, on top of all that you were already suffering from in the war?’

  ‘Possibly.’ Rubbing his jaw, he gave a resigned sigh. ‘My mother-in-law, who was looking after the boy, eventually told me the tale and informed me that he wasn’t mine. He was the result of a fling my wife had with a sailor.’

  ‘Oh, Steve! No wonder you gave me that little lecture on the temptation of affairs during war-time.’

  He gave a pragmatic shrug. ‘I should have admitted that I was speaking from personal experience, then you might have taken onboard what I had to say. I did love Maggie, and grieved for her, but sadly it seems our marriage was probably over even before I lost her. I’m sorry I failed to tell you the whole story, Cathie, but I didn’t feel able to talk about it just then. Now I’ve discovered that the child’s actual father is married and has no wish to claim his son. My mother-in-law is prepared to keep the boy rather than see him end up in an orphanage.’

  ‘I agree with her there. That’s
exactly how I feel about little Heather.’

  ‘She is, however, getting on a bit so I’ve suggested that I could perhaps share the responsibility of bringing him up. James, or Jamie as he likes to be called, is Maggie’s child, after all.’

  Cathie met his troubled gaze with amazement then put her arms about him and hugged him tight. ‘How kind and loving you are.’

  ‘Thank you. I think of him now as my stepson.’

  ‘That’s very generous of you. Most husbands would not view the child in those terms.’

  He sighed. ‘Well, there was a war on. I would have forgiven her, had she lived. Whether or not our marriage might have survived I’ll never know, but I can at least take care of her child.’

  ‘I’m glad for the little boy’s sake that you’re prepared to do that. Sadly, orphanages are now packed with children who should be living with a loving family, even if it isn’t their own. It will do them no good at all to be brought up in an institution.’

  ‘Having been adopted myself, Cathie, I know that to be true.’

  ‘Really? I didn’t know that either.’ Why had he kept all of these secrets from her?

  ‘I was fortunate to be picked out of a crowd of homeless kids when I was about seven years old. It was quite brave of the Allenbys to take me on, as I was a bit of a mischief-maker and rabble-rouser.’

  ‘Oh, I do remember that,’ she said, and he laughed.

  ‘But they have proved to be kind and loving parents, and saved my life from eternal misery. This young lad is three years old, so I feel the need to be as generous and loving with him as my adopted parents were with me.’

  Moved by his story, Cathie felt emotion block her throat. ‘Oh, Steve, that’s wonderful. But why didn’t you tell me any of this before?’

  ‘I thought you had enough problems of your own to deal with, and even if they aren’t entirely resolved yet, at least Alex is no longer creating havoc in your life.’

  It was only after he’d gone that the thought popped into Cathie’s head that this decision of his might affect her too, and her sense of caution and insecurity flared. Could the real reason Steve hadn’t mentioned the boy earlier possibly be because he wanted her to fall in love with him first? Alex’s desire for her had been motivated by the stash of money left for little Heather by her own father. What if Steve’s motivation for his initial caution, and for now finally confessing the reason, was because this child was in desperate need of a mother? Depression washed over her at the thought.

  Cathie had secretly hoped that Steve was about to tell her he loved her, yet so far he had done no such thing. Dare she allow herself to fall yet again into the trap of believing a man’s feelings for her were genuine? At first she’d been too trusting, now she didn’t feel able to trust anyone.

  Cathie had never expressed any desire to go again to the Ritz ballroom, or back to Joe Taylor’s Dance Hall at Belle Vue where Alex had proposed to her, so it came as something of a surprise when Steve suggested they go to the Palais de Danse on Rochdale Road.

  ‘I don’t think I want to go,’ she told Brenda.

  ‘Whyever not? With Christmas almost upon us, it would be a lovely evening out.’

  ‘I’m no longer interested in going dancing.’ A part of her thought it might have been the magic of the dance that had led to her falling for Alex in the first place. If so, then it was not a mistake she wished to repeat.

  ‘It’s not as if he’s taking you to the Ritz.’

  ‘But why didn’t Steve tell me the truth about this child, and his own adoption?’

  ‘I thought he’d explained all of that, and you know full well that some things are hard to talk about right now. But what does it matter, when you’re happy together? As for that little boy, if Steve proves willing to accept little Heather, why would you not accept Jamie?’

  ‘My worries are not about the child, but whether I can ever trust a man again.’

  ‘Steve is not Alex, and it’s time, darling, to put the past behind you and be happy.’

  ‘Oh, you talk such sense, Bren. What would I do without you?’ Smiling, Cathie hugged her friend.

  ‘I’ll make sure I keep that night free so that I can babysit for you.’

  ‘There’s no need to sacrifice your own night out with this new sweetheart of yours,’ she said with a grin. ‘Mam will be happy to do her bit. She’s come to parenting rather late in life, but really loves little Heather. Now I’m going to ask the same old question, what on earth should I wear? Since I can’t think of anything I own being quite classy enough, maybe a trip to Campfield market to buy some suitable fabric is called for.’

  When Rona arrived on the night of the Christmas dance, she stared at her daughter in amazement. ‘By heck, thee looks beautiful, lass.’ A compliment Cathie had never heard before in her entire life. But it was rather a lovely long evening dress in pale gold silk with a scooped neck, draped sleeves and rhinestones stitched into the bodice. Cathie felt rather flattered by her mother’s approval, having made the dress herself. Rona even offered to help pin up her hair in a stylish fashion, and put rouge and lipstick on for her.

  ‘Now you look a real bobby-dazzler,’ Rona said with a satisfied smile. Then just as Cathie was kissing little Heather goodnight, she whispered, ‘Did you hear that the police called by to question Alex again?’

  Startled, Cathie met her mother’s bland gaze in shock. ‘Have they arrested him?’

  Giving a little frown, Rona shook her head. ‘He wasn’t in at the time, so they said they’d call again. Anyroad, why would they?’

  Cathie really had no wish to even think about Alex tonight, let alone discuss her suspicions with Rona, so without another word she walked away.

  The benefits of being a grandmother, as opposed to a mother, Rona thought, as she cuddled little Heather on her lap, is that you can walk away when you feel tired and leave the responsibility to someone else. There’d never been any opportunity for a moment’s rest when she’d been young, or anyone with whom to share the job of child-rearing. Her own parents had been long dead, her husband brutalised by the First World War, and she the only breadwinner with two daughters to bring up pretty much alone. It had been heart-breaking and yet a relief in a way, when eventually he’d put himself on a ship and gone off. At least she’d been free then of all the beatings she’d been forced to endure, even if her heart still ached for the love they’d once enjoyed.

  But maybe as a result of her loss she hadn’t been the best mother in the world. Far too exhausted and impatient, run ragged with all the work and responsibility of raising a family alone. Going out and enjoying herself had felt like a form of escape, something she deserved, but maybe that hadn’t gone down too well with her two daughters.

  How she admired Cathie for her strength and determination. Rona now deeply regretted being so unhelpful, largely due to the grief and anger she felt over the death of Sally. No one could ever understand how the loss of a beloved daughter affected one. It changes your entire view of life. Nothing seems important any more. You just don’t care about anything or anyone else. The disappearance of someone who fully occupied your thoughts and love leaves a big black pit into which you keep falling.

  How fortunate she was now, though, to have this little one to remind her of Sally. She’d grow into a perfect replica of her mum. ‘Nanna loves you, chuck,’ she told the toddler, as she tucked her into her cot. Giving her a kiss, Rona sang a lullaby she used to sing to her daughters. ‘Hush, little baby, don’t say a word, Momma’s gonna buy you a mocking bird.’

  It was then that she heard a hammering on the door. ‘Now who can that be?’

  From the moment it began, Cathie was convinced this would be a magical evening. The dance hall wasn’t as crowded as it used to be during the war, and with not a single uniform in sight. But Steve looked so handsome in a navy pinstriped suit that she didn’t mind at all if he wasn’t up to dancing anything too lively because of his artificial leg. He certainly was not able to join in the ji
ving some folk were doing, but then neither was she. But the band played with such style and fun, Cathie was content to sit and listen, and he did treat her to a dish of ice cream.

  It felt wonderful just to be held close in his arms as they smooched to the music ‘Dancing in the Dark’ with the lights suitably dimmed, apart from one overhead lamp that moved about, making the men’s white shirts and the girls’ dresses glow. A singer came strolling elegantly across the stage, her wonderful voice adding to the glory of the music. Then balloons began to fall from the ceiling, and the next instant everyone was laughing as they tried to catch one.

  It was as they were happily shuffling along to ‘Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree’ that Cathie mentioned what her mother had told her about the police calling to speak to Alex.

  ‘Really? Let’s hope they question him soon. Actually, I think there’s something you need to know, love,’ he said.

  ‘Not another secret?’

  ‘I’ve put off revealing this information so as not to unduly upset you.’

  ‘I’m stronger than you might imagine, Steve. I would have thought you realised that by now.’

  Looking a little guilty, he abandoned the dance and led her back to their table where he explained as briefly and kindly as possible what Barbara had witnessed that night. As shock resonated on her lovely face, he kissed her gently by way of comfort. ‘I offered to accompany her to the police station but Barbara said she needed to consider the matter carefully as it would demand considerable courage. If the police are again about to question Ryman, then it may be because she’s finally spoken out and they now have the necessary evidence. They will need to check his version of the story, and his alibi. Hopefully, it will result in an arrest.’

  She gazed up at him, transfixed with horror. ‘Oh, I do hope so. The thought of what he did to Davina is unbearable.’