‘It’ll be between ourselves, of course — wouldn’t do for everyone to know. About your rise, I mean.’
‘If you say so.’
‘So is it a date then, next week?’
She nodded resignedly.
*
Leah didn’t go straight home. Instead she crossed the road and took a bus going in the opposite direction — to the village of Smallfield. It was still called a village even though the town had swallowed it up more than a decade ago. Now it was what the local estate agents called a ‘garden suburb’. The original cottages had been surrounded and outnumbered by rows of modern bungalows and small housing developments; brash new mock Tudor pubs with plastic beams and reconstituted stone fireplaces.
Kate Dobson, Jack’s mother, lived in the bungalow she and her late husband had bought for their retirement. It had a large garden at the back where she grew all her own fruit and vegetables, a lawn and roses at the front.
Granny Dobson was neutral ground as far as Leah was concerned. The old woman was gruff and outspoken. When the two were first introduced to each other twelve years ago, both had been openly doubtful. Kate made no secret of the fact that she didn’t hold with any adoption, particularly Leah’s, and Leah had resented what she interpreted as the old woman’s hostility. But at least they had both known where they stood. Since then they had developed a special kind of relationship. Kate plainly saw through the posturings of her son’s friends and colleagues. She considered Jack’s rise to a position of power in the town to be nothing more than ‘putting on airs and graces’, largely due, in her opinion, to the influence of Hilary, the daughter-in-law she had never liked.
Over the years she had come to feel sorry for the child on whom her son and his wife had tried to impose their broken dreams. She had made her home a refuge for Leah, who often found her footsteps turning towards her adopted grandmother’s bungalow when things troubled her.
Although their respective views were at odds the two had an odd kind of affinity. Kate mourned the passing of the old town; its hardworking life and slow pace. She loved to talk of the old days when Jack’s father was station master at Nenebridge, and Leah was the only person left who liked to listen. Kate often reminisced of how the fruitgrowers would bring their produce to the station at first light in horse-drawn carts, ready to be sent to market. She told of the struggle it had been for them to send their only son to the local grammar school.
It was another world to Leah. A world where people really cared about each other. She shared with Kate the wish that Jack could have been satisfied with his old life.
When Leah appeared unexpectedly in the kitchen doorway the old woman looked up and greeted her with characteristic bluntness.
‘Oh, it’s you.’ She sat at the newspaper-covered kitchen table shelling peas she had just picked from her garden. She wore a print wraparound pinafore, lisle stockings and an old pair of tennis shoes. Her grey hair was cut short and caught back with a kirbygrip and her face was as wrinkled and weatherbeaten as a walnut from long hours spent in the garden. ‘What wind blew you in then?’
Leah sat down opposite and began to help with the peas. She loved Granny Dobson’s old-fashioned kitchen, with its deep white sink and wooden draining board. The shelves beneath were concealed by a blue and white gingham curtain that matched the ones at the window. Above the large kitchen table a row of blue and white jugs hung on the wall in a row, diminishing in size from a quart to a gill, and there was a Victorian pine dresser. It was a far cry from Hilary’s clinical fitted kitchen at Acacia Grove.
It was in Kate Dobson’s kitchen that Leah, enveloped in one of Kate’s pinafores, had learned to cook and perform other domestic chores. Kate understood that little girls learning to cook got into a mess and spilled things. Unlike Hilary she never minded, knowing that squishing your hands about in beaten egg and having flour in your hair was half the fun.
This afternoon Leah found it soothing sitting at the table shelling peas. Sometimes she felt that this was the only place where she could truly be herself.
‘You all right, my old sugar?’ Kate asked.
Leah shook her head. ‘Just thought I’d like to see you.’
Kate Dobson got up from the table and filled the kettle. Lighting the gas, she sat the kettle on the ring and turned to look at Leah, one hand in the small of her back. ‘Blasted rheumatics,’ she said, grimacing. ‘Always gets me when I sit too long.’ She resumed her seat at the table and went on stoically shelling peas.
‘I suppose you went to the Mayor-making as usual,’ she said with a sniff. ‘Dennis Mason! Fancy him being Mayor. I remember him when he was a ragged-arsed kid, running errands for tuppence a time. His mother used to work in the market selling fish to make ends meet. Had to, poor cow. Her old man gambled away almost every penny he earned.’ She shook her head. ‘Dennis knew what he was on to when he married that Glenys Watts.’ She chuckled hoarsely. ‘Funny-looking girl, she was, used to sit in the cash desk in her dad’s shop. Red nose and little piggy eyes — looked like she had a permanent cold.’ She rose to her feet as the kettle began to whistle, wiping her hands on the front of her pinafore before spooning tea into the big brown pot. ‘Not much handsomer now by the look of the photo in the Clarion.’ She nodded towards the paper on the table as she poured water into the pot. ‘Still, she had what he wanted all right. And I don’t mean oomph.’
Leah laughed. Already she could feel the tightly coiled tension inside herself beginning to unwind. ‘I know what you mean, Gran.’
Kate viewed her adopted granddaughter shrewdly as she poured two cups of strong tea. ‘What is it then? You look a bit down in the mouth.’
‘I’m okay. Just a bit fed up.’ Leah swallowed the lump that suddenly rose in her throat.
Kate sucked up her hot tea noisily, gnarled brown hands cupped round the cup. Her shrewd bright eyes peered at Leah over the rim. ‘Thought so. Want to talk?’
Leah looked up and said impulsively: ‘What would you say if I told you I wanted to find my real mother?’
There was not so much as a flicker of surprise in the steady gaze the old woman directed back at her. ‘I’d say it was perfectly natural,’ she said. ‘But I’d say you might well be heading for trouble too, mind.’
‘So you think I shouldn’t try to find her?’
‘I don’t think anything. And if I did I’d keep quiet about it just for once.’ One of the wrinkled hands reached out and covered Leah’s. It was warm and rough and reassuring. ‘’Cause I know you’ll do it anyway if you’ve made your mind up to,’ she said. ‘My Jack and that snooty Hilary made a big mistake when they adopted you. I told them but would they listen? Would they ’ell as like.’ She shook her head at Leah. ‘Oh, not only a mistake for them — for you too. For one thing you were too old to take Fiona’s place, and for another — I believe that if it’s God’s will to take your child, He will, one way or another.’ She sighed. ‘He took two of mine. I just had to bear it. Well, you wantin’ to cut and run proves I wasn’t far wrong, doesn’t it? It’s no more than they deserve.’ She reached for the teapot and filled her cup again. ‘People can’t help but be what they are. That’s what it comes down to in the end. You can’t fly in the face of nature. Look at this puffed up lot.’ She swept a pile of pea pods from the newspaper that covered the table. Dennis Mason’s bland countenance smiled smugly up at her above full Mayoral regalia. ‘They’ve made a pile of money out of killing the town and now they parade its corpse around pretending nothing’s happened. Look at ’em. Kings of a dung heap, that’s all they are now,’ Kate said scathingly. ‘So if you want to try and find out who your mum was, you have a go, girl. And good luck to you. At least you’re prepared to look truth in the face.’
‘Thanks, Gran.’
Kate’s hand held on to hers. ‘But don’t go doin’ anything you might be ashamed of,’ she said perceptively. ‘And try not to hurt anyone who’s been good to you. Never cut off your retreat, my Bert always used to say. You neve
r know when you might need it.’ She smiled. ‘That’s not bad advice, you’ll find.’
Leah drank the last of her tea thoughtfully, watching as Kate carried the colander full of peas to the sink and set about clearing up the table. She didn’t need to ask herself what Granny Dobson would say if she knew about Tom Clayton. That would come under the heading of ‘something to be ashamed of’.
‘I’ll remember,’ she said. ‘I’d better go now. Thanks for the tea — and the advice.’ At the door she stopped, a thought suddenly occurring to her. ‘Oh, I almost forgot.’
‘Yes?’
‘There’s a barbecue at home on Sunday. It’s from twelve till three. Why don’t you come?’
Kate cackled. ‘Me? They won’t want me there, girl. I’m not swanky enough for them, any more.’
‘But I want you, Gran. I’ve been told to invite a friend and I’m inviting you.’
Kate nodded, her blue eyes dancing. ‘All right then. I’ll come if you want me to. Damned if I won’t,’ she said rebelliously.
Chapter 6
When Ralph Evans returned to ‘The Marina’ just two weeks after his first visit his father was delighted. The hotel was fully booked so he stayed in the flat, sleeping on the settee in the living room. He gave no indication of how long he would be staying and David didn’t ask, so, after his second night Marie felt obliged to ask about his immediate plans.
‘When do you start your new job, Ralph?’
They were having coffee in the flat after her morning round of the hotel and she had seized the opportunity to speak to him while his father was out.
He gave her a slightly wounded look. ‘In other words, when do I intend to leave?’
‘I didn’t mean it to sound like that,’ Marie said quickly. ‘I just thought you must be uncomfortable on the settee and there’s no prospect of a room being vacant for some weeks.’
‘As it happens I have to leave tomorrow,’ he said with his disarming smile. ‘You might as well know — the job I applied for, and felt sure I’d get, fell through. I’m off to try for another tomorrow. This time in Manchester.’
‘I’m sorry. Well, good luck with the new one then.’
‘Thanks.’ He regarded her for a long moment. ‘Actually I’ve been disappointed that you were so busy. Selfish of me, isn’t it? I did hope we might see something of each other while I was here. As it’s my last night, could you spare some time to have dinner with me this evening?’
Marie’s heart gave a little skip. ‘I suppose that could be arranged.’
‘Good. I hope you haven’t forgotten that you promised we’d get to know each other better.’ He smiled, assessing her in the way that made her colour rise. ‘I see you’ve had your hair restyled since I was here last. It suits you.’
Her hand went involuntarily to the new hair-do. She’d visited one of the town’s best hairdressers a couple of days after Ralph’s last visit. The stylist had cut it in a short, bubbly style, leaving longish tendrils that curled into her neck. The effect had been quite startling. With the weight taken from the heavy mass that she usually wore tied back, the natural curl had sprung to life, framing her face in a flattering way that made her look seventeen again.
‘Thank you. I fancied a change,’ she said.
Ralph smiled. ‘It makes such a difference. You’ve changed your style of dress too.’
It was true. On the same day that she had had her hair done, Marie had taken an afternoon off to go shopping for clothes. Knowing next to nothing about fashion herself she had taken the advice of the manageress of a little boutique whose window displays she had often admired. The woman had transformed her, encouraging her to try things on that she would never have dared even to consider before. She had advised her tactfully about make-up too and the result was quite magical. From a rather ordinary girl with a good complexion and naturally blonde hair she had become a sophisticated, attractive woman overnight. She had been surprised at the effect on business too. Now that dark classic suits and tailored shirts had taken the place of the baggy tweed skirts and cardigans she wore for work, she found that her staff treated her with more respect. The visitors too seemed to look up to her, never taking her for one of the staff as they once had, but acknowledging her authority as manageress.
As well as working clothes there were two or three off-duty outfits in Marie’s wardrobe too and it was one of these that she chose to wear for her dinner date with Ralph that evening — a plain black dress with a deeply scooped neckline. The skirt was expertly cut and flared out flatteringly over her hips. When he saw her, Ralph smiled his approval.
‘You look beautiful.’ He reached into his pocket and brought out a small package which he handed to her. ‘This should make a pretty finishing touch.’ Inside was a fine gold chain on which hung a single pearl. Marie gasped.
‘Oh — is it real?’
He threw back his head and laughed. ‘Well, it isn’t made of plastic. And it won’t turn your neck green.’ He took it from her and fastened it around her neck, his fingers lingering on the smooth warm skin. ‘I saw it and knew it would look perfect against your skin.’ Hands on her shoulders, he turned her towards him and smiled down into her eyes. ‘And I was right. It’s lovely — like you.’ He looked at her enquiringly. ‘Do I get a little kiss?’
Shyly she lifted her face and accepted the kiss he planted on her mouth. ‘Thank you, Ralph, though you really shouldn’t.’ She looked at herself in the mirror. ‘It’s beautiful. It must have cost the earth and I know you can’t …’
He put his finger against her lips and shook his head at her. ‘Never mind all that. Wear it for me.’ He drew her arm through his. ‘Now let’s go and paint the town red. I want everyone to see my stunning girlfriend.’
Marie had not known that it was possible to enjoy herself as much as she did that evening. They drove to Norwich and dined at a popular nightspot, dancing afterwards till the small hours. Marie hadn’t danced since Liam had taken her out. At first she was stiff and tense in Ralph’s arms, but he held her close and guided her steps expertly and soon she found herself relaxing. By the end of the evening she was beginning to wish that Ralph had taken the job David had offered him.
On the way home he stopped the car in a quiet lane and kissed her till she was breathless and dizzy. Gazing up at the star-filled sky she wondered at the miracle of finding such happiness again, then reminded herself that this was Ralph’s last night. He would be gone tomorrow. She was going to miss him.
Back at the hotel they went up in the lift to the top floor flat, whispering so as not to wake David as they tiptoed in.
‘I’ll make you some coffee,’ Marie said, opening the kitchen door.
As they sat on stools at the breakfast bar, sipping their coffee Ralph asked her: ‘Well, how are the plans going?’
She shook her head. ‘We have to go slowly. Save some more money before we go in for another place.’
He looked surprised. ‘Why? You could get a bigger loan with two successful hotels doing business. Why wait?’
‘David likes to be cautious,’ she told him. ‘He’s afraid of failure. Sometimes I wonder if he’ll ever want to progress further than this.’
‘But you’d like to.’
She sighed wistfully. ‘Yes. I still dream about that hotel chain. But then, I’m only an employee.’
‘It’s a great idea. What makes you think Dad wouldn’t want to do it?’
‘He’s getting on in years now. I wouldn’t blame him if he wanted to take things easy. It wouldn’t be fair to press him.’
He looked thoughtful. ‘Maybe you’re right. Have you talked about it to him?’
‘No. He’s worked hard over the past years. He deserves a rest now.’
Outside her bedroom door, Ralph kissed her goodnight.
‘Well, this is it, sweetheart. I’ll most likely be gone by the time you wake up. I’ve no idea when I’ll be back again.’
She clung to him. ‘Oh, Ralph, I …’
&nb
sp; He held her away from him and looked down into her eyes. ‘What, love? What is it?’
She shook her head. ‘Nothing. Just that I wish you weren’t going away.’
He drew her close again. ‘You don’t know what it does for me, hearing you say that. And things are going to work out for us, sweetheart. Just you wait and see.’
She lifted her face to his, her eyes misty and her mouth soft and inviting. ‘Oh, Ralph.’
He kissed her, crushing her close, his mouth hungry and excitingly passionate.
*
It was only after Ralph had left the following day that David told her about the conversation they’d had in the early hours of the morning.
‘He woke me before he left,’ he said with a smile. ‘Said he didn’t want to go without saying goodbye. He brought me some tea and we had a little chat.’ He looked at Marie a little sheepishly. ‘I — er — I offered him a job.’
Marie was taken aback. ‘But he’s gone up to Manchester for an interview.’
‘I know. He’s too independent to say yes right away, but I’ve a feeling he’ll take it all right. The job he’s applied for up north is nothing more than a door-to-door salesman. I’m sure you’ll agree that my son is worth more than that. And we have all this.’ He spread his hands. ‘It would be foolish not to take him into the business, wouldn’t it? I’m getting on after all, and you and he …’ David beamed. ‘You should hear his ideas,’ he said excitedly. ‘This could be big business, you know. Big hotel luxury coupled with small hotel personal service. That’s how Ralph sees it. He thinks we should expand. Says he can see a whole chain of Evans Hotels in ten years’ time, all round the coast. Doesn’t the idea excite you?’
Marie was surprised. So this was what Ralph had meant when he said that things would work out for them. He had done this for her — for them.
David was looking closely at her. ‘You two are getting along really rather well, aren’t you?’
Marie blushed. ‘Quite well, yes.’
‘You know, with someone like Ralph working with us we might just be able to do it.’ He looked at her, his head on one side. ‘You’ve blossomed since you met him. I used to worry about you never getting out to have fun. But since Ralph came home …’
The Long Way Home: A moving saga of lost family Page 9