When the Clouds Go Rolling By

by June Francis

  ‘You are a gem, Clara,’ said Seb, resting his splinted arm on the table and using just a fork to eat.

  ‘Nice of you to say so.’ Her cheeks were flushed and she was on pins, wondering not only when she should mention her suspicions about Mr Moran but also because she knew that, once Freddie arrived with Hanny and Kenny, Alice and Seb were in for another shock.

  ‘Did you have a good journey?’ she asked.

  ‘It was OK,’ said Seb.

  Alice smiled. ‘He means that it wasn’t all right at all. It seemed to take ages. We had to change trains several times and nearly missed a connection. That would have meant waiting a couple more hours and we were impatient to get home to the children. They all look well, Clara.’

  ‘That’s more because of you than me,’ she responded. ‘You’ve only been away a few days. I haven’t had time to undo all your care.’

  Alice said mischievously, ‘And do you feel that is enough time to put you off children for life?’

  Clara sat down and told them about her day, including the episode about the plant being dug up and her fear that Georgie might have poisoned himself. They laughed several times and Seb said that eyes in the back of one’s head as well as an extra pair of hands were needed where kids were involved.

  It was at that point in the conversation that there was a knock on the back door and Hanny called, ‘Can we come in?’

  ‘Of course,’ called Seb.

  The door opened and Hanny entered, followed by Freddie. Greetings and hugs were exchanged between Hanny, Alice and Seb. A pot of tea was made and they joined the other adults at the table. Initially, the conversation involved Seb’s operation and the physiotherapy he would need to undergo in Liverpool. It was not until all had been said on that matter and the meal was finished that the crumpled newspaper was produced and spread on the table by Hanny. Clara had cleared the dishes away and was now washing them, but she was able to hear clearly what was being said.

  ‘What’s this?’ asked Seb, glancing at Hanny and Freddie.

  Freddie’s expression was grave but it was Hanny who said, ‘Have a look at this picture, Alice.’ She pointed at the photograph.

  ‘Who am I looking for?’ asked Alice.

  Hanny leant over. ‘Look closely and see if you recognise anyone.’

  Alice did as she was bid, wondering who it was she was supposed to be looking for – and then she saw him. ‘What is this? How old is this paper?’ she cried, looking at the top of the page.

  ‘Several of us have done that,’ said Freddie, resting his elbows on the table. ‘This really is a week for surprises. Hanny had to point Bert out to me. I was only a kid when he went to prison but as soon as she showed me where to look, I recognised him.’

  ‘I thought he was dead,’ said Seb, rubbing his scarred cheek. ‘Someone show him to me.’

  Alice flattened the newspaper so that the picture was uppermost again. ‘I’d almost forgotten you were never on the scene when he was around,’ she said, ‘although you saw him at his trial.’

  ‘Briefly,’ agreed Seb. ‘But I was working so couldn’t be there for the whole of it.’ He looked at Freddie and Hanny. ‘I’m tired. I can’t think straight at the moment. How can he be alive?’

  There was a silence. Then Freddie said, ‘He must have switched identity with another soldier.’

  ‘But would it be that easy?’ asked Alice with a tremor in her voice. ‘I can’t believe this is happening just when everything seemed like it was about to start going right for us again.’

  Seb reached out and took her hand. She clung to it. ‘I doubt it was easy for him to do, but not as difficult as you might think with so many men being slaughtered. There were times when whole units were destroyed almost to the last man. Say Bert survived, and other surviving soldiers from here, there and everywhere ended up fighting as one unit and he was amongst them.’

  ‘But how was it we were informed he was dead?’ asked Hanny.

  Seb sighed and his face screwed up with concentration. ‘OK. Let’s imagine that Bert saw one of his comrades have his head blown off.’

  Alice drew in a sharp breath, as did Hanny and Clara, who had returned to the table.

  ‘Sorry, ladies,’ said Seb stiffly.

  ‘Shall I carry on?’ asked Freddie, his face alight. ‘I can see where you’re going with this. Bert removed the fallen soldier’s identity tag and anything else that would say who he was and replaced them with his own. Then he scarpered. Could be that he laid low for a while, waiting for the worst of the fighting to be over. Men went missing and so it’s possible that at first no one noticed his absence. Then, when he saw his opportunity, he joined up with soldiers from other units who had never met him or the fallen soldier before. They’d accept whatever he said and, somehow, the lucky sod survived to return to Blighty a free man.’

  ‘Could be that he knew enough about the dead man to know that he had no family waiting for him back home,’ said Seb, ‘so no awkward questions to answer when he arrived in England.’

  Silence.

  ‘So where is he now?’ asked Alice. ‘You remember what he said when it all went wrong for him, don’t you, Hanny?’ She gazed at her friend with a fixed stark expression.

  ‘That he’d get back at us,’ she replied.

  Clara glanced at Freddie and saw the anger in his face. ‘There’s no need for you to fear him now,’ he said. ‘Things have changed. I’m a man now, not a kid to be bullied by him.’

  ‘Aye, they’ve changed in as much that you’ve grown up, but Kenny’s still crippled and Seb’s not exactly fighting fit,’ cried Hanny. ‘And what about Tilly? Remember how he lured her away from us once before and then let her go just to prove that he could do it? He’s been that close…’ she measured two inches with her fingers, ‘to ruining our lives. We can’t allow him to do it again. Tilly’s so pretty and he likes them young.’ Her voice broke.

  ‘You’re so right,’ said Alice, barely above a whisper. ‘Trouble is, Tilly wouldn’t recognise him if she saw him. She was only a little girl when he went to prison.’

  ‘She does know what he looks like,’ interrupted Clara. ‘I remember her telling me that she had seen his likeness.’ She hesitated, before adding, ‘She also mentioned seeing someone hiding in the front garden the other night.’

  Alice paled. ‘I’d almost forgotten about that – but surely it couldn’t have been Bert?’

  ‘How are we to know?’ asked Seb grimly.

  ‘She did say the person ran away,’ said Clara. ‘Would Bert have done so?’

  The others stared at her.

  ‘I wouldn’t have thought he would,’ murmured Hanny. ‘But she’s spoken of Bert to you – that surprises me.’

  Clara nodded. ‘It was in relation to something that happened in this house.’

  Hanny exchanged glances with Alice but neither spoke. Instead, Freddie said, ‘Anyhow, she’s not a kid anymore, so Bert won’t find it easy to lure her away this time with a promise of ice cream.’

  ‘You remember that?’ said Hanny.

  Freddie nodded. ‘It was your wedding day and you’d rigged me out in a kilt and velvet doublet. I felt a right cissy.’

  ‘I’d have liked to have seen that,’ said Clara softly.

  Her remark somehow lightened the atmosphere. Freddie winked at her and the others smiled. ‘Sorry. I shouldn’t have interrupted,’ she said, blushing.

  Hanny’s eyes were sombre. ‘I’m angry with myself for allowing the thought of Bert to frighten me like this. If he’s got any sense at all he’ll stay away from us. After all, he’s supposed to be dead and surely he won’t want us knowing he’s alive.’

  ‘Even so, we should tell the police,’ said Seb firmly. ‘With his prison record he’d be in serious trouble if he tries anything on.’

  ‘You’re right,’ said Freddie.

  ‘But what if they don’t believe us?’ said Alice, leaning across the table towards her husband and remembering the way he had spoken abo
ut Bert on Christmas Eve last year.

  ‘Why shouldn’t they?’ he asked. ‘We’ve got the newspaper picture and they’re bound to have a photograph of him in their records, either here or in Liverpool.’

  ‘We know what a crafty so-and-so he is, though,’ said Freddie, glowering. ‘I’d like to get my hands on him.’

  ‘Don’t underestimate his strength,’ warned Hanny. ‘I’m just grateful that Emma saw the picture and recognised Bert. We know now to be on our guard. The question is, do we tell Tilly that Bert’s alive, or leave her in ignorance?’

  ‘I honestly don’t like worrying her,’ said Alice.

  ‘You’re overprotective, Alice,’ said Freddie bluntly. ‘You’ve kept quiet about her father all these years and that’s served only to make her more curious about him. What if your father were to come looking for her? She wouldn’t even recognise him.’ He darted a look at Clara.

  She tried to interpret that look. Did he expect her to tell Alice and the rest of them of her suspicions right now? But before she could decide, Alice said, ‘Don’t mention him,’ in a faint voice. ‘Haven’t I got enough on my plate to cope with right now?’

  Seb frowned Freddie down. ‘Enough. We don’t need anything more to worry about than we have already right now.’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Freddie. ‘Perhaps Clara and I are best leaving you three alone if you want to discuss anything more about this in private.’ He reached out a hand to her. ‘Shall we go for a walk?’

  She nodded, relieved to get away. Without a word, she fetched her coat and hat and went with him. As they walked down to the river she thought again about Mrs Black warning her about getting involved with her cousin’s family and taking on their worries. She understood now what she had meant but it was too late for her to step back and have no more to do with them. She cared too much about what happened to them.

  ‘It’s Good Friday tomorrow,’ said Freddie. ‘Shall we have a day out together? Perhaps we could have a run to Moreton. Mother was left a house by an aunt and none of us have visited it for ages. We could check it out and then have a walk along the beach. Now Alice and Seb are back, surely you’re free to do what you want.’

  ‘I’d like to go with you. Although I’m wondering if Alice will want me to leave tomorrow,’ said Clara, biting on her lip.

  Freddie raised his eyebrows and said easily, ‘It doesn’t make sense your going home and then having to return on Sunday. But if you want to see how your grandmother and lodger are getting on without you, I can take you to Liverpool. Is that what you want?’

  She thought about his suggestion for only a few seconds, knowing she would much prefer to go to Moreton and told him so. ‘As long as Alice is prepared to put up with me for a few more nights.’

  ‘I can’t see her saying no,’ said Freddie, ‘so that’s settled.’ Clara did not argue with him and could only hope he was right. After that she asked him to tell her more about his brother and what happened at Hanny’s wedding.

  ‘Bert was determined to ruin it and had threatened to abduct Tilly,’ said Freddie, his eyes darkening.

  ‘But why would he want to do that?’ asked Clara, incredulous that a brother could behave in such a way towards a sister as nice as Hanny.

  Freddie gave a twisted smile. ‘I don’t know all the reasons because I was simply too young to be aware of all that was going on at the time, but I know Hanny left home for what seemed ages to me and Joy told me Bert was to blame. Then while Hanny was missing there was an accident and my sister Grace was killed. Bert was held responsible, having gone against a warning Mother had given him. Hanny came home after that because Mother was in such a state. Alice came back into our lives and Bert made up to her and they were going to get married, then suddenly, the day before it was to take place, she called it off. He beat her up and…’

  Clara gasped. ‘So that’s why Alice is scared of him?’

  He nodded. ‘Kenny was away but he returned and had a fight with Bert. I overheard Hanny telling Joy all about it.’ Freddie’s eyes gleamed. ‘Bert left home after that but still managed to cause trouble in the years that followed. He wrote to Mother saying he was emigrating to Australia. It was a lie but it’s stuck in her mind and now she firmly believes that he’s living on the other side of the world. She had a breakdown and just couldn’t face the truth about his going to prison.’

  Clara slipped her hand into his and squeezed it. ‘I suppose it’s understandable that a mother doesn’t want to believe her children can behave so badly.’

  Freddie returned the pressure of her fingers. ‘Bert was her blue-eye and could do no wrong. But I’ve two sisters who’ve more than compensated for Mother’s lack of affection towards me. And now I’ve met you…’ His voice trailed off and there was an expression in his eyes that caused her pulse to race, but he said no more.

  After that they walked in silence, but Clara felt as if they had moved another step closer. Of course, it was early days to be thinking of marriage, yet here she was doing so. Really, she must put the thought out of her mind for now. Freddie had to make his way in the world and she had her gran still to consider.

  When they returned to the crescent, they parted at the Bennetts’ gate, having arranged for Freddie to pick Clara up at nine o’clock the next morning.

  On entering the house, Clara half expected everyone to have gone to bed but she found Alice sitting in the drawing room. There was no sign of anyone else. She wondered whether Tilly had been told about Bert or not. She did not like to appear as if she was prying so did not mention it, only asking whether she could stay on until after the christening party.

  ‘Of course you can,’ said Alice, smiling as she put down her sewing and dropped a newspaper on top of it. ‘Hanny and I were thinking that would be the most sensible thing for you to do.’

  Clara’s eyes lit up. ‘Thanks. Freddie’s taking me to Moreton tomorrow for a day out, if that’s all right with you?’

  ‘Of course it’s all right,’ said Alice, smiling. ‘How could I say no after your being so willing to help us? Make yourself some sandwiches for a picnic.’

  Clara thanked her and wondered if now was the time to mention the man she had seen across the way but, recalling Seb’s words about having enough on their plate, she thought better of it. Instead, she said good night and went up to bed, looking forward to her day out with Freddie tomorrow and hoping the weather would be fine.

  Clara woke early and managed to use the bathroom before any one else was up. She made breakfast and some fish paste sandwiches, remembering once upon a time she would have attended a Stations of the Cross service during Holy Week. She had not done that for years, but she was looking forward to the christening service with the family on Easter Sunday. She slipped out without anyone being aware of it, glad in a way that she did not have to explain to Tilly where she was off to at that time of the morning.

  Freddie was already waiting for her and she hurried to meet him. ‘Don’t you just love being up and out early at this time of year?’ she said.

  ‘We met a year ago this month,’ he said. ‘I remember shortly afterwards I had to get up early like this so I could say my goodbyes to Joy because I was going back to sea the next day. I didn’t want to leave, not only because of the war and the family but because it was spring and the country was looking its best. I remember thinking how terrible it would be if I never saw it again.’

  ‘But you’re here. Thank goodness.’ She sighed happily.

  ‘Aye. Thank goodness.’ He lowered his head and pressed his lips against hers for a brief moment before taking her bag from her. ‘Sandwiches?’ he asked, cocking a dark eyebrow.

  Clara nodded, still feeling the pressure of his lips on hers and hoping he would kiss her again before the day was out. She was determined to put her worries behind her and just knew it was going to be a lovely day.

  Freddie placed her sandwiches in his knapsack and she offered to carry it. ‘Otherwise it’s going to be in my face,’ she said with
a teasing smile.

  ‘Of course. I wasn’t thinking,’ said Freddie, adjusting the straps and helping her on with it. His mind was set on giving Clara a great day out and he was not going to allow thoughts of his evil brother to spoil his enjoyment, but he wished he knew Bert’s whereabouts.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Eastertide, 1919

  Bert stood outside a theatrical wigmakers shop on Mount Pleasant in Liverpool, perusing examples of the owner’s handiwork. His blue eyes were calculating as he considered the wigs on show. Being tall and handsome, he had never found it a drawback having golden locks, but maybe it was possible there were those who might find him even more attractive if he was tall, dark and handsome. But that was not his main reason for being here. Altering his appearance was essential if he was to snatch Alice’s daughter without being recognised. Besides, there were people, even in Liverpool, who might remember him, despite not having seen him for a while.

  He turned and surveyed the boarding house on the other side of the road and his eyes were like chips of ice as he recalled the months he had spent there. For a bit of bow’s yer father, the landlady, Mrs O’Shaunnessy, had treated him very well, until he had dipped into the savings she had hidden under the mattress and then she had shopped him. In court, he had told the judge and jury that he had taken it for services rendered, that older women were so susceptible to a mouthful of flannel from a young man. The words had struck home and she had screeched abuse at him across the courtroom but he had felt that, in some small way, he had got his revenge on her. Her reputation had hit rock bottom and, according to the woman in the neighbouring house, Mrs O’Shaunnessy had ended up on the streets.

  Yet his main concern was not her but those who’d betrayed him. It had come as a shock to him to discover that Hanny and Kenny now lived in that medium’s house in Victoria Crescent, with twin babies and his mother and brother. He was going to make fools of them. Never in a thousand years would they imagine he was still alive.

  Bert thought back to when he first became aware of Lenny Marks. A nervous talker who just wouldn’t shut up, Bert had absorbed enough of his life story to prove useful. A single man, Lenny had grown up in an orphanage, so had no relatives waiting for his return. It had been easy to step into his shoes after he had been killed by an exploding bomb and exchange their identities. But not so easy staying alive as Lenny in the horrors of the fighting that followed.