‘A ten-year lease?’ Maggie repeated. The squeak from the chair as she sat forward was achingly familiar. ‘That means he bought it in the late sixties, which was around the time Flo Jackson died, so chances are her niece was the one who sold it. Mark, we’re looking for anything that refers to either Anne or her husband, Dr Hammond.’
There was the sound of a box sliding across the table as Kathy started to rummage through musty paperwork while they talked.
‘So what else did you find?’ Maggie asked Mark.
‘Nothing about the Hammonds, I’m afraid,’ he said, starting with the bad news, ‘but this is an almost identical letter serving notice to the proprietor of a shoe shop “formerly known as Flo’s Fruit and Veg”.’
‘Kathy’s dad owned Mrs Jackson’s shop too?’ Maggie asked before Kathy had the chance. The shuffling next to her had stopped.
‘Yes.’
Mark was giving nothing away but suddenly he didn’t need to. Maggie had already made the connection. ‘Alice told me the salon was once a shoe shop …’
‘And before that it was a greengrocer’s,’ Mark concluded.
‘I don’t care how we do it, but we have to track down the sale documents!’
‘Have you found something, Kathy?’ Mark asked, directing his attention to the one person who hadn’t been swept up by the revelations.
‘Hmm? No. No, nothing,’ she said a little too quickly for Maggie’s liking.
‘Kathy, what is it?’
Her friend’s chair squeaked as she moved away from the box. ‘Oh, ignore me,’ she said at last. ‘It’s probably just seeing all this stuff my dad accumulated. He’s been gone eight years but l look at his handwriting and it’s as if it were only yesterday.’
‘He must have been an amazing dad, setting you up with all this property,’ Mark said.
Kathy took a while to answer and Maggie sensed her staring at the papers strewn onto the desk. ‘If you don’t mind, I’ll call it a day,’ she said, and before anyone could object she was up and leaving. ‘It’ll be chaos out there.’ Her voice sounded stronger the further she removed herself from her dad’s archives. ‘My girls are already in a tizzy as it is, with Mark on the scene.’
Mark cleared his throat. ‘No need to mention that to Jenny,’ he said when Kathy had left them. ‘To be perfectly honest, they terrify me.’
‘Your secret’s safe with me. Now, back to work.’
An hour later and the door Maggie thought she was opening onto the past had begun to close again. Mark had found nothing more.
‘What if Kathy’s mum still has more boxes, Mark?’ she said. ‘It’s worth a try, surely.’
‘Sorry, I’ve been cataloguing everything and we have all there is.’
Maggie could feel four walls closing in on her. The room she thought she knew so well had been stripped of its identity in more ways than one. She didn’t need to see to know that all her rows of bottles and jars with their explosion of colours at the twist of a cap had disappeared, replaced by countless brown boxes of musty, decaying paper. But it wasn’t the latest reincarnation of the room that played on her mind but an earlier version, one that would have been known intimately by the young woman who was always one step ahead of her; in fact, so far ahead that she risked disappearing completely from view.
Maggie’s eyes were closed and she made no acknowledgement of James’s return to the bedroom. He placed a cup of tea on the bedside table and then leaned over to kiss her.
‘You’re not fooling anyone. I know you’re awake,’ he said, ‘but at least try to get some rest. You don’t need to get up yet, Harvey’s been fed and watered.’
‘I’ll try.’
‘What I wouldn’t give for an opportunity to stay in bed.’ He groaned as he pulled himself upright and away from temptation. ‘All your tossing and turning kept me awake too. I don’t suppose I need to ask what’s playing on your mind, but isn’t it time you accepted that tracking down Tess might be an impossible task?’
‘And that’s precisely what’s keeping me awake,’ Maggie said as she pulled herself up on one elbow. Her bump stayed where it was. ‘Jenny’s scouring through lists of Manchester GPs on the internet but it feels like clutching at straws. It would have been so much easier if the adoption had been legal. At least then there would be proper channels to go through.’
‘It’s probably a blessing in disguise that you can’t trace her, for Tess at least. How’s she going to feel if a complete stranger tells her how her so-called parents illegally adopted her?’
Maggie felt the ever-present knot in her stomach twist and tighten. ‘Thanks, I needed that encouragement.’
‘I’m not encouraging you, Maggie. I’m worried about you – and for the record, so is Kathy.’
‘Kathy knows how important this is and she agrees with me; we need to find Tess and at least give her the chance of meeting her mum.’
‘She also agrees with me. You’ve taken it as far as you can but it’s time to let go. You can’t though, can you? You’re obsessed with that family. Isn’t it enough that you’re visiting Elsie every other day? Do you have to spend every waking hour thinking about her too?’
Maggie’s jaw tensed as she spoke. ‘You should be glad I’ve got Elsie to divert my attention or I might start making plans to reunite another mother with her child.’
There was a sigh of exasperation but James heeded the threat. ‘Is it a crime to be worried about you?’ he said before stepping away. ‘I have to go to work.’
‘You can’t prevaricate forever,’ she called before he had escaped completely. When he turned, he would see the self-righteous look his wife was casting in his direction.
‘Are you actually looking for more ways to stress us both out?’
‘The stress is there anyway. If this morning is anything to go by, then you’re not the usual patient and supporting James I know and love.’
‘I am being patient, that’s the point. I’ve told you what I think about your search for Tess; I haven’t told you what to do even though I’m sorely tempted. And for the record, I’m not prevaricating about Mum; I’m playing the long game.’
It was the first indication that his resolve was weakening, helped no doubt by the browbeating he would be receiving from Kathy while they worked on their business deal. Maggie was tempted to add her own argument for Judith’s defence, but if she was honest, life was simpler dealing with one crisis at a time. ‘I know, and I won’t tell you what to do either. Now go, you’re keeping me from my beauty sleep.’ But even with all the lotions and potions at her disposal, Maggie couldn’t find sleep. Her stomach churned as it followed the same twists and turns as her thoughts. She pushed her head into a pillow and breathed in the lavender and chamomile scent she had added to her linen, it was a trick her mum had once used. The wave of nostalgia brought with it an inescapable sense of loneliness and there was only one person left to turn to.
‘Is it too early?’ Maggie asked when the call was answered.
‘It’s never too early to hear from you, love. Is everything OK with the baby?’
‘Yes, everything’s fine, Dad,’ Maggie said, rubbing her stomach in curved caresses as she spoke. ‘I just had a few spare minutes and thought I’d find out how you are.’
‘Oh, we’re all fine and dandy. We get up, have breakfast, Jim goes out for a round of golf, I help Dot with the chores, we have lunch, we have a siesta, we have dinner and then Dot makes us watch the English soaps. We might have a game of cards and then it’s a nightcap and bed: nonstop excitement.’
Stan made the routine sound tortuous, but Maggie knew he was enjoying his new life, or at least as much as he would allow himself without the wife who had been the other half of his whole for the majority of his life. He would never acknowledge that life was good again, so Maggie had to read between the lines and find her own assurances. ‘Poor you,’ she said.
‘How’s the weather over there? It’s showing no signs of cooling down here yet.’
‘Bloody British weather,’ he muttered and then yawned.
‘Don’t, you’ll make me start,’ Maggie said but she was already stifling a yawn.
‘Actually, you do sound tired. Are you sure everything’s all right?’ he asked.
Maggie leant back and tried to stretch some of the knots out of her spine. On the other end of the phone she could hear her dad shifting position and imagined him out on the veranda with his straw hat and a cup of tea. She had heard the telltale rattle of a cup and saucer, the whispered instructions from Dot not to let it go cold and then the occasional, satisfied slurp. The picture made Maggie feel strangely homesick, not for a villa in Spain but the Sedgefield terraced house she had grown up in.
‘I’m not sleeping too well,’ she said although she wasn’t about to tell him why. His reaction to her hopeless search would be the same as everyone else’s and she didn’t want another dose of realism. ‘It’s hard to find a comfortable position anywhere these days. I’m as big as a house.’
‘Whereas I could sleep standing up. Ah, you’ve just reminded me, I had a dream last night.’ He took another sip of tea and then said, ‘Your mum was in it.’
‘Do you dream of her often?’
Stan cleared his throat. ‘No, that’s the thing. This was the first one. I was watching the two of you laughing together.’
Maggie smiled as a hundred memories came flooding back from her childhood. ‘What were we doing?’
‘You were in the park, down by the lake.’
Maggie strained her ears as if she might be able to hear the sound of their laughter. What she did hear was a distant quack. ‘Feeding the ducks?’
‘No, you were too old to be feeding ducks, you were sitting on the bench talking.’
Maggie dug a hand into her pocket, slipped her fingers into a plastic bag and pulled out a crust. With perfect precision, she launched the bread into the air and it fell to the water with a plop. ‘I’ll never be too old to feed the ducks,’ she said with a smile.
‘You’re not there now, are you?’ An approaching family of ducks had given her away. ‘I thought you said it was teeming down?’
Maggie raised her head to the muted warmth of the mid-September sun. ‘Ever heard of an umbrella?’ she asked not wanting to give up the lie she had used to ease her dad’s homesickness.
Stan laughed. ‘Not for a while. But I don’t suppose there’s any point talking sense into you. You’re as stubborn as your mum.’
Maggie’s free hand had been resting on her stomach but only now did she feel brave enough to make contact with the past. As her fingers traced the surface of the bench she could read its history as if it was written in Braille. There were one or two deep cuts where someone had crudely carved out initials, and patches of chipped paint revealing hidden layers beneath, each one a differing shade. The latest layer was chocolate brown, she’d been told, but Maggie could remember when the bench had been painted a verdant green to match the moss that grew around the tree trunks, back when she could see with colours and not scent. She pushed her fingernails deep into the cuts and sliced into her own past.
‘Do you remember that time Mum padlocked your shed?’
‘I don’t know what she thought she’d achieve. I could hardly finish the decorating with all my tools locked away in there.’
‘And yet somehow she managed to get you to paint and decorate the kitchen in record time.’
‘Yes, she always got her way in the end,’ Stan said softly.
‘I hope I have half her determination,’ Maggie confessed. ‘I’m going to need it.’
‘You’re going to do just fine,’ Stan said, assuming innocently that his daughter would be concentrating solely on impending motherhood and not inveigling herself in other people’s problems. ‘Dot’s making all the arrangements and we’ll be over there as soon as you’ve had the baby.’
‘I can’t wait to see you all,’ Maggie said.
When the call ended, Maggie stayed where she was. Closing down each of her senses she detached herself from the present and waited. There was enough room on the bench for someone to sit on each side of her and it didn’t take long for the bench to summon up the ghosts of the past and give them substance. On her left, Elsa sat in silence, waiting desperately for that one last chance to see her baby. On her left sat her mum. She gave Maggie’s arm a quick squeeze. ‘Now is not the time to feel sorry for yourself, Maggie,’ she told her. ‘Don’t waste time grieving for the things you can’t do, get on and do the things you can.’
24
Sapped dry by autumn winds, the leaves above Maggie’s head rattled as she made her way through Victoria Park. She paused momentarily at the top of the slope that would take her down towards the lake but she didn’t give in to its pull.
‘Not today, Harvey,’ she said with only a faint hint of regret.
Maggie tucked her chin into her chest and fought against the biting wind as she carried on towards the main entrance gates and the High Street where they paused again. To the right, the road wended its way to the salon. Maggie turned left.
Harvey knew the route to Ted and Elsie’s house well enough, although they hadn’t visited for over a month; before her holiday; and before Elsie had gone on her own travels. She wondered how much had changed at the bungalow since then and she wasn’t looking forward to finding out. Ted was spending all his time at the care home, too intent on looking after his wife to consider his own needs, so there was little hope that he had kept up with the housework.
She had promised to be there by two, giving Ted enough time to return home after visiting Elsie. She arrived with two minutes to spare and dropped a heavy shopping bag onto the step to knock at the door. She had brought a hearty lunch for the two of them along with a selection of other dishes that would give Ted at least one substantial meal a day for the rest of the week. She had considered bringing some cleaning supplies too but there had only been so much she could carry.
‘Hello, you two,’ Ted said brightly when he opened the door. ‘Come on in out of the cold.’
No sooner had Maggie stepped into the house than Harvey bounded down the hallway, his claws scraping along the wooden floor before being silenced by the soft carpeting in the living room.
As she unbuttoned her coat and swapped pleasantries with Ted, Maggie was already trying to detect the telltale signs of the squalor she had expected but instead picked up the unmistakeable scent of lilacs. The image of Ted spraying his wife’s perfume to ward off his loneliness was too much to bear.
‘I’ll pop this in the kitchen,’ Ted said. He groaned theatrically as he tested the weight of her shopping bag. ‘You can find your way to the living room, can’t you?’
‘Of course I can.’ Maggie’s smile was tentative; she wasn’t about to be fooled by his false bravado. It was only when she walked into the living room and heard Harvey wagging his tail energetically that she realised it hadn’t been an act.
‘Hello,’ came a familiar voice.
Words completely failed Maggie as she quickly navigated her way across the room. When she reached the old lady, Elsie was standing up and ready to grasp her outstretched hand. They hugged each other desperately.
‘So do you like my surprise?’ Ted asked from the doorway.
‘Is this an official visit or is there a search party on your heels as we speak?’ Maggie asked, not daring to hope that this was anything more than a temporary reprieve.
‘It is official, but it’s not a visit. I picked Elsie up this morning and despite a lengthy debate with Carol, my wife isn’t going back to Sunny Days. Not if I can help it. Isn’t that right, love?’
‘There’s no arguing with him,’ Elsie confirmed.
It was the ache in Maggie’s cheeks that made her realise how broad her smile was. Elsie was back, in more ways than one.
‘Make yourself at home and I’ll put the kettle on,’ Ted said.
Maggie raised a han
d in objection. ‘Oh, no, you’re not going anywhere until you tell me exactly what’s happened.’
Ted didn’t argue. He took the seat opposite while Maggie sat next to Elsie on the sofa, holding her hand and squeezing it as if to confirm that she really was there.
‘I only agreed to Elsie going into that place for respite but, as I expected, Yvonne was already making long-term arrangements. It’s taken me a while to get fighting fit but I’m back in charge now and I won’t hear another word said on the matter. She stays with me.’
‘I’m sure Yvonne was only doing what she thought was best, for both of you.’
‘I don’t need other people dictating what’s best for me,’ countered Ted.
Maggie could sympathise: she had been the victim of well-meaning interference often enough, but it wasn’t only Ted’s opinion that counted. ‘Elsie thought it was for the best too.’
‘Yes, she did,’ Elsie agreed, reminding Maggie that she was still in the room.
Ted sighed. ‘I know, love, and I think I’d say the same thing if I was in your position. No one wants to be a burden – but it’s not your choice and you’re not getting your own way this time.’
Elsie tutted but didn’t argue.
‘She didn’t belong in there,’ he said turning back to Maggie. ‘Don’t get me wrong, they looked after her well enough but … I don’t know, it was as if it was OK for Elsie to forget herself. No one cared whether she came back or stayed lost forever.’
Maggie ignored her first instinct to remind Ted that Elsie’s illness was progressive and eventually she wouldn’t come back, but of course he knew that. ‘So you brought her back here to you.’
‘Yes.’
‘I know you want to stay together for as long as you can but …’
‘No “buts”, Maggie,’ Ted said firmly. ‘I’m her husband and I have a duty to take care of her. It’s going to be tough but that’s what marriage is all about, the good times and the bad. I won’t abandon her to the care of strangers, even if she thinks I’m a stranger too. I know who she is, she’s my wife and her illness can’t take away my memories.’
Where I Found You Page 27