‘How about imagining another day out as well? I asked Maggie if she’d like to go to Walthamstow to meet my ma and your Betty, and she didn’t say no like she did last time …’ Ruby paused. ‘But then again she didn’t say yes so who knows? I just thought she might be ready.’
‘I don’t know if she’ll ever be ready. She lost her family, and I don’t think she wants another one just yet, especially one like ours.’
Sixteen
Maggie Wheaton was standing in the newly renovated kitchen of the Thamesview Hotel looking out of the window but not actually seeing anything; her mind was too far away and too confused. She was finding it hard to make a decision about Ruby’s suggestion that she meet some of her extended family, especially her birth grandmother. Her natural curiosity made her want to go and meet the family she hadn’t even known existed, both on Ruby’s side and Johnnie’s, but her anger at her betrayal was still so strong.
Over the months, both Ruby and Johnnie had given her bits of information about the family who still lived in Walthamstow in East London, Ruby’s own birthplace. Although she feigned uninterest, Maggie had gathered the information in her head and tried to get a picture of them all. She found it hard to believe that there was a whole group of people who she was actually related to but had never met and who, until recently, had no idea that she even existed.
The Blakeleys and the Riordans were all part of her birth family, and yet she was as much a stranger to them as they were to her. In an instant she had gone from being an only child in a small village with no relatives other than George and Babs, her parents, to living in a busy seaside town on the periphery of a huge East End family.
But while she was naturally curious, there was that part of her that was still engulfed in grief and which didn’t want any more involvement with Ruby and Johnnie and their extended families than she already had; especially as she had no intention of staying around long enough to get to know any of them. All she wanted was to be back with George and Babs Wheaton, her mum and dad.
But she consoled herself with the thought that soon none of them would matter any more because she’d be Maggie from Melton once again and it would be as if the past months hadn’t happened.
Maggie Wheaton was being torn in more directions than she could have thought possible, and her emotions were more confused than ever. Sometimes when she was awake in the middle of the night, especially after one of the regular nightmares she still had about the crash, she thought about her and Andy’s plans, and she was scared by the enormity of it all.
In the darkness, as she forced herself to stay awake for fear of the nightmare returning, she would decide she couldn’t go through with it, she would promise herself that she would ring Andy and tell him as soon as she got up, but then once it was daylight and she felt so overwhelmed with the people and noise, both at the Riordan house and at the hotel, she couldn’t wait to get away.
Without realizing it, she shook her head and tightened her arms, which were already wrapped around her body.
‘Hello, you.’
Maggie jumped and turned around as someone touched her on the shoulder. ‘Hello!’ Maggie smiled, genuinely pleased to see Jeanette, Gracie’s younger sister, standing there.
‘You looked like you were miles away there, young Mags.’ Jeanette laughed. ‘But wherever you are, can I join you? I’d love to be miles away rather than completely knackered after another shift on nights! God, it takes it out of me, especially now I’m on the children’s ward.’
‘Is it hard working all night? Don’t you fall asleep?’
‘Not a chance. We don’t even get to sit down and take the weight off our feet, and my weight is a lot to be dragging round all night!’ Jeanette patted her rounded belly and tutted at herself. ‘Look at this? See it wobble? Those stodgy canteen meals at the hospital have a lot to answer for.’
Maggie smiled, and Jeanette took that as her cue to relate several stories of night duties, medical students and linen cupboards. She was an excellent storyteller, and even though Maggie knew she was embellishing it for her benefit, she couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the tales. Jeanette McCabe, Gracie’s younger sister, was the only person she had found since her move to Southend who she felt comfortable with, the only person who seemed to have no hidden agenda and who, she felt, had her best interests at heart.
Maggie watched Jeanette as she gesticulated and bounced around the kitchen and wondered again at how unlike each other Jeanette and Gracie were in appearance. Gracie was as dark and slender as Jeanette was blonde and curvy. Maggie could imagine that, despite all her stories of life on the ward, Jeanette was an excellent nurse. ‘Are you looking for Gracie?’ she suddenly asked.
‘I am, but I’m not in any rush, so do you fancy a cuppa and a bit more chat? I’m out of touch with everything. You can tell me all your news now I’ve told you everything about my whole life!’
‘Gracie’s locked away with Ruby somewhere while they talk about things that can’t be talked about in front of the children – in other words me, the troublesome one,’ Maggie said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.
‘Oh, I doubt it’s about you. That pair have always gone off into huddles to chat, it’s what they do,’ Jeanette said, laughing, ‘and this time it’s most likely about the moving. It’s not long till they set sail for Africa … I don’t know how the two of them are going to cope being away from each other when it happens. They’re so close those two, closer than sisters, which is funny as Gracie and I are sisters!’
‘Why should it matter so much? Maggie frowned. ‘It’s not forever, and Ruby’s got Johnnie and the precious boys and the hotel, and Gracie’s got Edward and Fay. I can’t see why it would bother them that much.’
‘Ooohh, that’s a bit strong. I don’t think you get it, do you, Mags me darling? Ruby and Gracie had a bloody awful time back then, it was horrible for them both, but being together afterwards got them through it. They understand each other like no one else can.’
‘Well, then, they shouldn’t have got pregnant, should they? That way they wouldn’t have had such a bloody awful time, would they?’ Maggie said sharply.
‘Lordy, that’s cynical from one so young.’ Jeanette stared hard at Maggie until she blushed and looked away, but still she couldn’t let it go.
‘It’s just the truth. If they hadn’t done what they did, they wouldn’t have been all alone with just each other, they’d have still had their families, and I wouldn’t be standing here being neither one nor the other with a birth certificate that’s a lie. A bloody lie.’ Maggie reddened because she knew she was lashing out at the wrong person, but she couldn’t help it. It still all seemed so unfair.
After a moment Jeanette stepped up close to Maggie, wrapped her arms around her and pulled her into a bear hug, ignoring the girl’s resistance. ‘Listen to me, me darling. I understand, I do, but I want you to let some of this stuff go because I want you to be happy again. There are things we can change and they’re worth bothering about, but the things you can’t change? Let it go. None of us can turn back time.’
They stood for a few moments in silence until Maggie relaxed, and Jeanette let her go.
‘That’s better. Being angry never did none of us any favours,’ Jeanette said with a smile. ‘Do you think you can try and understand them just a bit?’
‘Maybe, but they won’t leave me alone! They just want to play happy families, but they’re not my family, not in the way Mum and Dad were. And now they want me to go and meet the rest of the so-called family, you know, let’s pretend we all love each other, but I don’t know any of them,’ Maggie said, desperate for someone to understand, desperate for advice but not wanting to ask.
‘Are you going to go? Do you want to go?’ Jeanette asked lightly.
‘Of course I don’t want to go. It’ll be awful …’
‘Well, how about asking Ruby to invite them here? And not all together, just in dribs and drabs. If they came to the house you’d b
e on your own territory and could run away if you wanted to.’
‘Run away? Why would I want to run away?’ Maggie asked sharply, fearful that Jeanette had somehow found out about her plans.
‘I meant you would be able to go off and do something else … leave them to it.’ Jeanette looked at her. ‘What did you think I meant?’
‘Nothing,’ Maggie said sharply, turning away. ‘Do you want that cuppa now?’
‘Oh yeah, I’m gasping. Thought you’d never ask.’ Jeanette laughed, easing the tension. ‘By the way, did you hear anything about the record you made? Did it go any further?’
Maggie was back on alert, aware that whatever she said could be a clue to finding her after she’d gone. She clattered around with cups and saucers and didn’t look at Jeanette. ‘No, nothing. But I’ve changed my plans now, anyway. I want to be an air hostess.’
‘Oh, that’s interesting. How old do you have to be for that? They always look so elegant and ladylike on the news. I’ve never been on a plane. My parents live right near the airport; Dad works there.’
As Jeanette started to tell her stories about the airport, Maggie smiled, feeling pleased that she’d managed to divert Jeanette so easily.
Jack Blythe walked into the vast kitchen that dominated the back of the Manor House and looked around before walking up to Anna, the housekeeper, who was standing by the huge kitchen sink peeling vegetables. He stood very close to her, and his stance was aggressive enough to make the woman take a slight step sideways.
‘Good afternoon, Mr Blythe,’ she said. ‘Can I help you?’
‘Where is she? Where’s my wife?’ he snapped.
‘I don’t know, Mr Blythe. She didn’t tell me what she was doing today, but I think she went out.’
‘Out?’ he asked incredulously. ‘Why is she going out when I’m due home? And without leaving a message!’
‘I don’t know, Mr Blythe, but Andy is playing tennis; he’ll probably know where Mrs Blythe is.’
He looked the middle-aged woman up and down dismissively, making no secret of his distaste, then, without another word, he pushed past her and pulled the back door open so hard that it slammed against the wall. He walked out, leaving it open, and stormed across the kitchen garden and out through the wrought iron gate in the wall into the main grounds.
‘Andy? Get yourself over here,’ he bellowed.
The young man, who had been banging tennis balls against the garage, dropped his racket and ran straight over to his father. ‘Dad! When did you get back? We thought you weren’t coming up till later …’
‘Yes, I can see that. How come you’ve got time to piss about out here playing tennis? I thought you’d got phone calls to make for me, you lazy little tyke,’ Jack said. ‘And your mother’s nowhere to be found; that bloody thick as shit Anna is covering for her, I know it. And there was me going to surprise you both. Well, I got a surprise alright! While the cat’s away …’
‘But she’s only gone into the village to the hairdresser. She didn’t know you were coming back so early. You don’t usually,’ Andy answered quickly, his panic all too obvious.
‘She should have checked before buggering off, shouldn’t she, then. What about Lil? Where’s the old bat? Up in her room with a bottle of gin and her stack of out-of-date seventy-eights on the radiogram, I suppose.’
‘No. She went with Mum,’ Andy said, frantically wondering how to calm his father down before they got back.
‘In that case there must be something going on. That crazy bitch doesn’t go into the village, and neither does your mother, for that matter.’
‘She does, she often does. She—’ Andy stopped himself just in time, and because his father was nurturing his rage he didn’t notice.
Both his mother and her sister had been going out and about and becoming part of village life when Jack was ensconced in the flat in London. Andy like seeing his mother with a bit of a life of her own, so he never said a word about it to his father; he knew that Jack Blythe wouldn’t like it one bit.
Andy could sense the underlying anger bubbling away in his father, and he was alert, not for himself but for his mother. He’d seen it too many times – the irritation that quickly built into irrational anger which only needed the slightest trigger for it to end in his mother being hurt. Jack Blythe had never laid a finger on his son other than the occasional clip around the ear when he was a child, and he’d never laid a finger on his wife when his son was around, but Andy knew. As far back as he could remember he’d heard the sounds, felt the fear and seen the bruises.
‘Oh, darling, don’t be silly. I banged it on the wardrobe door; you know how clumsy I can be,’ she’d say if he asked about a black eye or the finger marks on her arms, but instinctively Andy knew. He knew all the signs of both before and after, and he could see them now and was scared for his mother for when she came home.
Jack Blythe was spoiling for a fight. With his wife.
‘Dad, she won’t be long, honestly. The hairdresser is at the top of the high street; do you want me to drive down to the village and find her? I can tell her you’re back, and she’ll be so pleased to see you.’
‘No. I’ll see her when she gets back. Meanwhile, you and I can have a talk about your pretty little piece of skirt Maggie and her singing.’ He paused. ‘Oh, and her inheritance. Priorities, son, priorities. I’ll deal with your mother later.’
Andy’s heart sank when he heard the tone that accompanied his father’s words; he knew he was going to hear derogatory things about Maggie that he didn’t want to. Despite his father’s failings, Andy Blythe looked up to him both as his father and as a businessman, and he adored him unconditionally; all he wanted was for his father to feel the same way about him. But no matter how hard he tried, Jack Blythe always ended up dismissing his efforts and making him feel inconsequential. Now he knew that Maggie would be his target, and all because he’d noticed that his son really liked her. It was always the way.
‘I told her what you said about a job after Christmas,’ Andy said as they started to walk back to the house together. ‘She’s so pleased; she can’t wait. And I told her about the room she can have.’
‘You did tell her this opportunity wasn’t going to be a free ride? That she’s going to owe me? I mean, really owe me …’
‘Of course I did. She’s happy to work for nothing until she gets on her feet. She just wants somewhere to live so she can get away from Southend and the money-grabbers.’ Andy looked up at his father. ‘It’s wrong, isn’t it, Dad? That they can do that to her over her inheritance? That is what you said, isn’t it?’
‘It is, son. It sure is.’ Jack paused for a few moments. ‘Any idea how much is involved in this family fraud? The kid’s got to be worth a few bob for it to be worth their while to take her into the family.’
‘But she is sort of family to them.’
‘Don’t give me sentimental guff, son. You and I both know they don’t want her, they want her money. Happens all the time. Come twenty-one it’ll be bye-bye to her. She’ll be on her way with the few pennies left they haven’t embezzled. So … do you know what she’s worth, our little heiress?’
Andy forced himself to ignore the sneer in his father’s voice. He wanted so much to believe that his father really did have Maggie’s best interests at heart. ‘I did have it all written down. Maggie found the details in their office and copied them out. It’s a lot – I mean, the doctor’s house and surgery must be worth a fair bit, and then there was other money and stuff … I’ve still got it if you want to have a look.’
‘Yes, let me take a look. I’ll do what I can to help the girl; she looks like she needs someone to take her under their wing. But to help her, we have to make sure that her so-called family never get wind of where she is when she escapes them, so not a word to anyone. Especially your mother.’
Side by side, father and son continued to walk together. There was no disputing that Andy Blythe was his father’s son. Both were tall, attract
ive and well-groomed and wearing obviously expensive clothes. They walked in step and both had their hands clasped behind their backs as they did so.
Both were also unaware that Eunice and Lily Blythe were apprehensively looking out of the first-floor landing window, watching them and dreading the moment Jack Blythe got back to the house.
Seventeen
Christmas Day
‘Good morning,’ Ruby said with a wide smile as Maggie finally came downstairs and followed the noise into the sitting room where the whole family was already dressed and ready for the family outing to church. ‘Happy Christmas.’
‘Happy Christmas, Mags … We did call you. You’ve missed breakfast, but you can have something when we get back from mass,’ Johnnie echoed.
Maggie stared hard at the couple, who were sitting side by side on the sofa, unsure how to reply. She was shocked they would even think she could ever again have a happy Christmas. She also wondered how they could bring themselves to even say the words to her. She managed a faint smile but said nothing; she just stood in the doorway waiting.
It suited her to let them think she had overslept, whereas in reality she had been awake all night, dreading the moment she would have to join in the Christmas celebrations and make an effort in front of everyone – Ruby and Johnnie and the boys, Gracie and Edward and their daughter Fay. It was going to be a crowded dinner table, and she was expected to be there. She knew she couldn’t ignore it because the boys were still children and eagerly anticipating their presents and the turkey dinner with all the trimmings, but she had every intention of running off to her bedroom at the first opportunity and waiting for Andy to ring, as he had promised.
She looked around the room, which was decorated with tinsel and paper chains, and tried to ignore the tree, which had appeared a few days earlier while she was in town and which was now in the centre of the bay window.
It was simply too painful for her to bear.
‘Do you want to help us decorate the tree, Mags?’ Johnnie had asked when she’d first seen it.
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