by Jonker, Joan
Oscar failed to notice, as he opened the iron gate, that the net curtain in the front window was already twitching. The woman watching him was asking herself who this swank was, coming to her house. He wasn’t a canvasser, and certainly not a rag and bone man. His clothes were expensive, and there was the car parked outside her house. She’d never had a toff like him walking up her path before, and she’d never known anyone who had a car. Perhaps she shouldn’t open the door to a stranger, ’cos her Ted would go mad if she let herself be talked into anything. Only last week she’d bought some pegs off a gypsy because she believed it was bad luck to refuse, and her husband called her for all the silly buggers going. But she couldn’t not open the door to this man ’cos she wouldn’t sleep tonight for wondering what he’d wanted. So, when the knock came, Sarah Higgins straightened her pinny and patted her hair before opening the door. She mightn’t have much money, but she did have her pride.
‘I’m sorry to bother you,’ Oscar said, ‘but I’ve come to see if you can help me trace someone for a friend of mine. Her name was Evelyn Sinclair, and I believe she was once a neighbour of yours?’
Sarah nodded. ‘She used to live next door, yes.’ The thought entered her head that if she did tell this toff what she thought of her former neighbour, then she didn’t want the neighbours to know. And remembering she’d given the parlour a good dusting and polishing this morning, she thought she may as well show off. ‘Would you like to come in?’ she asked in her very poshest voice. ‘I’m not one for standing at the door nattering, I think it’s common.’
Oscar was amused, but didn’t let it show in his smile. ‘That is most kind of you, and also very trusting. After all, you don’t know me and I could be a bogeyman.’
‘I’m a pretty good judge of character,’ Sarah said, holding the door open and hoping all the neighbours were watching. ‘The parlour is the first door on your left. I’m sorry there isn’t a fire going, but my husband and I use the living room in the winter.’ She congratulated herself on speaking in her best accent. ‘Unless you are cold, of course. If so we can go through to the living room and I can make a pot of tea.’
‘That’s jolly good of you! Yes, I would like that. A cup of tea is always welcome.’
Ten minutes later he was sitting facing her across a table covered by a maroon chenille cloth, with an aspidistra plant standing square in the centre.
‘This is really very kind of you, Mrs, er, Mrs …?’
‘Mrs Higgins – Sarah Higgins. And can I ask your name, please?’
‘Oscar Wentworth, Mrs Higgins, and I have to say I am quite overwhelmed by your hospitality.’
Sarah, who had used her best china cups and saucers, waved the compliment aside. ‘I would never keep anyone on the step, especially someone as respectable-looking as yourself. And about Mrs Sinclair – did you say a friend of yours was trying to find her?’
Oscar had no intention of bringing Cyril’s name into the conversation, so he chose his words carefully. ‘Yes, he is quite elderly, and met her many years ago. He knew she had a daughter and was wondering how they were faring. It’s not desperately important that he find her, mind you, but I took it upon myself to try, as a surprise to him. That’s if I can trace her, of course.’
‘Well, much as I’d like to help you, I’m afraid I can’t tell you a lot about her, or where she is now. She wasn’t a very friendly person, not the neighbourly type at all. I did offer to help when she was moving in, and so did the neighbour on the other side of her, but she turned us down. Several times in the winter I knocked to say I’d mind the baby while she went to the shops, but no, she refused point blank. If the weather was bad she’d leave the baby in the house alone while she went shopping. And she didn’t turn you down in a nice way, she didn’t even have the grace to thank you for offering. So after that I didn’t bother because she was a cold person and very stuck-up. Thought she was too good for the people round here.’ Then Sarah decided she’d better watch her tongue in case she landed herself in trouble. ‘The baby was a lovely little thing, though, very quiet and good. I used to feel sorry for her ’cos she seldom went out. And for a child of her age, she was very well spoken. She sounded more like a grown-up than a child, but that’s ’cos she never mixed with other children.’
‘Did she take after her mother in looks?’ Oscar asked casually. ‘My friend said Mrs Sinclair was an attractive woman.’
Sarah pursed her lips and frowned as she tried to bring pictures of the couple to mind. ‘Mrs Sinclair had dark hair, but the girl’s was much darker, almost jet black. And their eyes were different, if my memory serves me right. The mother’s were dark brown, but the girl’s were more of a greeny-hazel. She had her mother’s way of speaking and walked like her, with her back as straight as a rod. I can still hear Mrs Sinclair’s voice coming through the wall, saying, “Straighten your back, Amelia, and hold your head high.” I often said to myself that she’d make the girl into an old woman before she’d had her childhood.’
Oscar felt his heart pounding as memories of Charles’ face flashed into his mind. His friend with his green eyes lit up with humour and a lock of black hair falling on to his forehead. The images seemed so real he felt he could reach out and touch the man who had been his friend for years, and for whom he still grieved. He mentally shook away the memories, for he could see Sarah watching him. ‘Was she a good mother to the child?’
‘She thought she was, but you wouldn’t find any neighbours who would agree with her.’ She caught and held Oscar’s eyes. ‘I don’t know you from Adam, and I’m probably talking out of turn, but so help me God, I’m speaking the truth. There was no love in that house while Mrs Sinclair lived there. Far from being a good mother, she didn’t seem to have any affection for that poor child. And although it’s a few years now since they left, I often think about them. Not the mother, I couldn’t care less what happens to her, but I’d like to know if the girl is being well treated. Trying to look on the bright side, I keep telling myself she’ll be going to school now, and will probably have made friends of her own age to play with. I certainly hope so, she deserves better than she was getting when she lived here.’
Oscar sighed. ‘And Mrs Sinclair gave no hint where she was moving to?’
‘Mr Wentworth, she didn’t even tell us she was leaving. And no one saw her going, so she must have had the removal cart or van here when it was dark and we were all in bed.’ The memory was too much for Sarah, who started to feel angry. ‘You will have to excuse me, Mr Wentworth. I’m ashamed of what I’m going to say to a gentleman like yourself, but I’ve got to get it off my chest. Mrs Sinclair left here without so much as a wave, a goodbye or a kiss my backside! She thinks she’s the whole cheese, but she is the most ignorant woman I have ever met. And there you have it in a nutshell.’
‘She doesn’t sound like a pleasant person, I must say.’ Oscar was feeling really let down. ‘My friend spoke so highly of her, but it seems he is not the judge of character that you are, Mrs Higgins. Oh, dear, I am glad I didn’t tell him what I was up to. It would have given him false hope. My best bet is probably to keep quiet and then he won’t have lost anything. It does seem strange, though, that a woman and her child can live in a house for four years and not get to make friends with one single human being. One would have thought Mrs Sinclair would have been glad of company and someone to talk to. It must have been a very lonely life for her and the young girl.’
Sarah averted her eyes before saying, ‘Oh, she did talk to one person – and that’s the man in the pawnbroker’s shop. Very often you would see her leaving the house with a wrapped parcel under her arm. I was only one of many who saw her going into the pawn shop with that parcel, and come out five minutes later without it.’
‘A pawn shop?’ Oscar looked stunned. ‘You do surprise me. I thought the lady was comfortably off.’
‘I wouldn’t lie to you, Mr Wentworth, I’m a regular churchgoer and live by the Ten Commandments. The odd swear word slips my lips
occasionally, but only very mild ones.’
‘You are a good woman, Mrs Higgins, and a kind one. I am very grateful for your help and your friendliness. Now I will leave you, I have taken up far too much of your time. But before I go, I would like to ask one more favour from you. While I am in the area, I think I may as well call in to the pawnbroker’s shop to see if he knows the whereabouts of Mrs Sinclair. Could you tell me where I might find it?’
‘It’s in Stanley Road, Mr Wentworth, not five minutes’ walk from here. If you drive back to the junction of Stanley Road and turn left, you’ll find it’s in the second block of shops. You can’t miss it, there are three brass balls hanging outside.’
Oscar pointed to a framed picture standing proudly on the sideboard. ‘Are they your grandchildren?’
Sarah was off her chair like a shot to fetch the picture to him. There was real pride in her voice when she said, ‘That’s Bobby, he’s ten in two months, and the girl is Theresa, she’s eight. They’re bonny kids, and me and my husband love the bones of them.’
‘I have two sons, Mrs Higgins, and I love the bones of them!’ It was an expression Oscar had never heard before, but he liked it, it sat well on his tongue and in his heart. ‘Yes, indeed, I love the bones of them.’
While Sarah was replacing the photograph on the sideboard, and standing back to make sure it was arranged just right, Oscar took a wallet from his inside pocket. He took out two pound notes and returned the wallet quickly before she turned around. He had thought of putting the notes under the plant pot on the table to save any embarrassment, then decided that wasn’t quite the thing to do. So when Sarah was showing him to the door, he asked, ‘Would you be offended if I gave you a few shillings to buy some sweets for your grandchildren? It would give me great pleasure if you would accept.’
Sarah’s brows shot up when she looked down at the notes in his hand. ‘I can’t take two pound off you, that’s a lot of money!’
‘Mrs Higgins, you took a total stranger into your home and treated him with warmth and friendliness. The only way I can repay that kindness is through your grandchildren. So please take it, and make me and them happy. What I am giving you doesn’t match up to what you have given me.’ He placed his black bowler hat on his head, patted the top of it, then smiled. ‘Thank you again, Mrs Higgins, and who knows but we may meet again some day?’
Oscar walked down the path leaving Sarah staring down at the two pound notes in her hand. And as he opened the gate, he heard her say, ‘Well, did yer ever! Just wait until my Ted comes in, I bet he won’t believe the day I’ve had.’
Chapter Nine
Oscar came out of the pawnbroker’s shop feeling despondent. He was no better off now than when he’d walked into the shop. The man behind the counter had been less than forthcoming. Yes, he’d admitted, he remembered Mrs Sinclair, but would give no other details as they were confidential. And no, he hadn’t any knowledge of her present whereabouts. He had looked genuinely surprised when Oscar mentioned that she had a daughter, and it was very obvious he was sincere when he said he didn’t know there was a child. But as to the transactions between himself and Mrs Sinclair, he was not in a position to divulge the affairs of a customer.
As he sat behind the wheel of his car, Oscar was in a dilemma. Should he tell Cyril what he’d heard from Mrs Higgins, or should he lie and say he was unable to obtain any facts about Evelyn and her daughter? At first he thought that would be the kindest thing to do, and then perhaps Cyril would put the ghost of the past behind him. But, on reflection, Oscar decided he couldn’t lie to a man he admired and was very fond of. Besides, he himself didn’t want to put the past behind him, he couldn’t. Not after he’d been told a child, who might be Charles’ flesh and blood, was unloved and being badly treated. Another thing he couldn’t ignore: hadn’t Mrs Higgins said Amelia didn’t take after her mother in looks, and also mentioned jet black hair and green eyes? The woman wouldn’t just make that up, there must be some truth in it. And if so, then all the more reason to trace the child who could make a difference to so many lives. It would bring such happiness to Cyril and his wife Matilda. It would give them a new lease of life, something to live for, and hopefully bring them closer together. And as for me, Oscar thought, I would spend the rest of my life happy in the knowledge that if Charles is looking down, he can be at peace, knowing those who have never stopped loving and thinking of him, are there for his daughter.
As he neared the offices of Cyril Lister-Sinclair, Oscar cursed himself for being so sentimental. But he couldn’t help being the way he was, nor could he help the tear that rolled down his cheek as he switched the car’s engine off. And he knew worse was to come. If he repeated everything he had found out, it was bound to have Cyril in tears.
Without giving himself any more time to think, Oscar locked the car, strode through the double doors and ran lightly up the flight of stairs. He managed a grin at the surprise on Miss Williams’ face. ‘I know I’m not expected, and if Mr Lister-Sinclair is engaged, I will come back later.’
‘He’s had a busy morning with meetings, but he’s alone now. I’ve just taken him a cup of tea through. I’ll tell him you’re here then make a fresh brew.’
‘Don’t get up, Miss Williams, he knows my knock by now. And I’m going to talk him into coming to the club for an hour so he can see some of his friends. He doesn’t get out nearly enough, and needs some male company. If I come out carrying him over my shoulder, don’t be alarmed. It just means he’s made an excuse not to go out, and I refuse to take it. He needs fresh air and he needs company.’
Miss Williams grinned as she nodded. ‘I’m glad you come so often to see him, Mr Wentworth, because you’re good for him. His business associates are kind, but they’re here to work while you come as a friend. That makes a big difference. Give him a knock, he’ll be glad to see you.’
Oscar rapped on the door with a knuckle, waited until he heard his friend’s voice, then walked in. ‘I’ve been told by your irreplaceable secretary that you’ve had a hectic morning, old boy, so I am here to whisk you off to the club for a couple of drinks. And some interesting conversation, of course. There would be no point in leaving here just to sit there looking at each other.’
‘I’m afraid I have nothing of interest to talk about,’ Cyril said, ‘my life is a very dull one and I’m not the most interesting of companions.’
‘Have no fear, I shall keep the conversation flowing, my good man, as long as you keep the claret flowing. Am I not noted for being articulate and amusing?’
Cyril chortled as he picked up a stack of papers and put them in one of the deep side drawers. ‘How can I resist such an invitation?’ But he wasn’t fooled by Oscar’s jovial manner. He had grown to know the younger man very well over the years, and although he was always happy and talkative, there was something different about him today. It was as though he was bubbling with excitement inside, and trying to contain it. ‘You seem in a good mood this afternoon, Oscar, is there a reason for it?’
‘All shall be revealed later, when I have a glass of claret in my hand. But don’t think I have any earth-shattering news to tell you, I’m afraid that’s not the case. Still, there is a topic we can talk about, and that should give us something to mull over while sampling the excellent wines from the club’s cellar. So, after giving Miss Williams instructions that if anyone calls you will not be back in the office for the rest of the day, we shall be on our merry way.’
Cyril leaned forward from his deeply sprung leather chair and raised his glass. ‘A toast to our friendship, what say you?’
Oscar nodded. ‘To our lasting friendship, I say.’ He was giving every appearance of being his usual chatty self, without a care in the world. Yet inside he was still full of doubt. He wanted to do what was best for the older man, say what would make him the happiest. But deep down he knew Cyril Lister-Sinclair was a man who would want to know the truth, not a lie that was supposed to make him feel good. ‘Now, I don’t quite know wh
ether I’m doing the right thing here, Cyril. I have spent an hour going over the pros and cons. However, I have reached the conclusion, rightly or wrongly, that you would prefer the plain unvarnished truth.’
Cyril’s hand began to shake around the glass he was holding. ‘You have found Evelyn and the girl?’
Oscar shook his head. ‘No, I’m afraid this story does not have a happy ending. But one day it will, and that is my promise to you.’ He took a deep breath. ‘This morning I visited the property letting office in Moorfields.’ He held up one hand as Cyril went to speak. ‘Don’t say anything yet, Cyril, wait until you hear everything I have been able to unearth about Evelyn and Amelia.’ He lifted his glass. ‘This is to give me courage and to loosen my tongue.’ After drinking deeply, he set the glass down and began his tale. He left nothing out, and gave it word for word. He did try to keep it light, though, even repeating Mrs Higgins’, remark: ‘Mrs Sinclair left here without so much as a wave, a goodbye, or a kiss me backside’.
Nevertheless a sigh came from deep within Cyril. ‘That is a heartbreaking story to listen to, my boy, especially as it is possible this child is my granddaughter after all. To think I have left her with a woman who appears to have a heart of stone! This neighbour of hers, Mrs Higgins, appears to be a kind and truthful person. I think we can believe what she says.’
‘Oh, without a doubt! I believed her when she said she offered to help with the baby many times, that is the type of person she is. I was a total stranger knocking on her door, yet she took me in and made me feel right at home.’
‘We have to find them, Oscar. I couldn’t live with myself, knowing there is the possibility of the girl being Charles’ daughter. I will hire the best private investigator there is. If necessary I will bring one from London.’