Wartime at Liberty's

by Fiona Ford

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I wanted you and Celia to meet. After Aggie died, Celia wanted to become more involved in your life and together we thought that getting you to play the piano at the school would be the best way.’

  ‘But why?’ Flo asked.

  ‘Because you needed a family,’ Henry explained.

  Flo shook her head in shock. There had to be some mistake. Celia was obviously delirious and Henry must have taken a blow to the head because none of this made any sense at all. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Aggie was my younger sister,’ Celia managed.

  Flo’s jaw fell open in shock. ‘You can’t possibly mean that. It’s been a long day and night and you need to rest,’ she said, her mind a whirl.

  She got to her feet, ready to plump Celia’s pillows, but Celia shook her head, tears in her eyes.

  ‘I don’t need to rest,’ Celia croaked. ‘I need to offload the burden I’ve been carrying for years and tell you the truth. Aggie was my sister. We grew up together in Islington; we were closer than any two sisters have a right to be.’

  ‘Which, if it’s true, means you’re my mother,’ Flo gasped as she tried to make sense of what she was hearing. ‘You’re the woman that left me with Aggie when I was five years old …’

  As the realisation took hold, Flo struggled to catch her breath. Trembling now, she stepped away from the bed. Turning to the window she stared blankly at the blackout blind as she did her best to understand. How was this possible? She had dreamed of this moment for so long, the moment of actually finding her mother and bonding with the woman who had carried her, given birth to her, given life to her, but now the moment was here, she had no idea what to say, what to think or what to feel.

  ‘No, Flo love,’ Celia croaked. ‘I’m your aunt, I’m not your mother.’

  Flo felt as if she was falling. There was so much to think about, so many things she wanted to know.

  ‘I don’t understand. If you’re not my mother then who is?’

  Celia glanced at Henry, who gave her an encouraging nod. With that one glance, Flo knew her world was about to fall apart. Whatever Celia was about to say, there was no going back.

  ‘Aggie,’ Celia croaked. ‘Aggie was your mother.’

  Chapter Forty-One

  Flo could barely take in what Celia had just told her, and her eyes filled with tears. This had to be a mistake – Celia was in a terrible state, after all. Even now, her breathing had become shallower and she appeared to be drifting in and out of consciousness.

  Flo watched Henry take a deep breath before bending down to kiss Celia’s forehead. ‘I’m just going to take Flo outside for a moment,’ he whispered. ‘I’ll explain everything. Don’t you worry, this is going to be all right.’ With that Henry walked around to the other side of the bed, reached for Flo’s elbow, and steered her out of the door and into the stark white hospital corridor.

  ‘What is going on?’ she asked, her voice shaking as she spoke. ‘Aggie wasn’t my mother – she was my aunt. Tell me this isn’t true, Henry. None of it makes any sense.’

  Henry reached for her hand. ‘I’m sorry, Flo, but it is true. Celia is your aunt. She has wanted to tell you for some time now but knew it wasn’t her secret to share. She’s always kept a careful eye on you, even when you didn’t know it. Aggie would write to her in Harrogate and tell her how you were getting on with her and Ray. When Celia moved back to London she would stand outside Liberty’s hoping for a glimpse of you. She always wanted to stay in your life. When Aggie passed away, followed by Neil, she felt that the time was right for her to step in and help take care of you. She thought you needed her.’

  ‘How do you know this?’ Flo asked, her mind struggling to take it all in.

  ‘Because when Mum died Celia was my rock, and we spent a lot of time talking about love and grief. We came to rely on each other – we still do,’ Henry admitted. ‘One night, Celia told me that her sister Aggie had given birth to a little girl while she was unmarried and so she raised the child as her own for a little while.’

  Flo’s head was spinning as she tried to take everything in. Could she really be Aggie’s daughter? Something didn’t add up.

  ‘Celia can’t be Aggie’s sister. None of this is true,’ she said.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because Aggie always said her sister was Sheila not Celia,’ Flo said with a note of triumph in her voice. ‘I don’t know why you and Celia are making things up but there’s proof that this isn’t true and it’s all a fairy story.’

  ‘Sheila is Celia’s real name. She amended it so her husband wouldn’t find her. Her last name’s not really Hallam either, it’s Wilson.’ Henry sighed as he gestured to a pair of chairs that had just become vacant.

  Flo sat down and gazed at her hands, which were neatly folded in her lap. They were the same as Aggie’s, she realised. Long slender fingers, short square nails and wide palms. Looking down at them now, she started to wonder whether Celia and Henry could be telling the truth.

  She closed her eyes and, leaning against the cool tiled hospital wall, she brought Aggie’s face to mind. Flo missed her more than she had ever thought possible. Lifting her chin she stared at Henry’s face, which was so full of hope, and knew that he held the answers to her questions.

  ‘Why did Aggie give me up in the first place?’ Flo asked eventually. ‘She and Ray always wanted children. Is Ray really my father?’

  ‘Bill Wilson is your father. He was Celia’s husband,’ Henry replied. ‘He worked down the tanner’s yard and at weekends was out gambling all his money away. Celia always knew Bill Wilson was a bad sort but I think perhaps she thought she could tame him. For a while she managed it. When he asked her to marry him she was cock-a-hoop and they wed when she was twenty-two in the church just off the Holloway Road.’

  ‘So where did it all go wrong?’

  ‘They had been married a year when Celia fell pregnant. By all accounts Bill had changed his ways by then and was adapting to life as a husband. When he discovered he was going to be a father, he was over the moon. Aggie was excited too, of course, at the thought of becoming an auntie. She would only have been about eighteen and still living up home with their mother. All she could talk about was how she and Celia would take the baby out singing with them when he or she was old enough.’

  ‘Sounds like it would have been nice,’ Flo said with a smile.

  ‘It would have been, but when Celia went into labour, things started to go very wrong. Celia’s baby boy was stillborn. She barely got to hold him and say goodbye.’

  Flo struggled to breathe. She’d had no idea such tragedy had befallen her family.

  ‘So what happened after that?’

  ‘Celia wanted another baby but it never happened and I believe Bill returned to old habits as a result. He started womanising again, cheating, gambling – he even got in with a gang for a time. He was so angry at the loss of his boy and he loved the cut and thrust of running around with the mob. After Celia and Aggie’s mother died, he started to become violent with Celia, and Aggie too. Celia felt frightened most days,’ Henry continued, ‘but she knew she had made her bed and had to lie in it, until he started giving Aggie the same treatment, that is.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Flo asked, feeling a sense of dread deep in the pit of her stomach.

  Henry grimaced. ‘There’s no easy way to say this, Flo, but it seems that one night Celia came home after she had been working in the pub and found Aggie weeping on the kitchen floor. Bill had taken advantage of her.’

  ‘He attacked her?’ Flo gasped.

  ‘It wasn’t quite like that,’ Henry said. ‘As I understand it Aggie and Celia had a row shortly after their mother died. Aggie had come over to make it up to her but Celia wasn’t in and Bill poisoned her mind. Told her that Celia never had a good word to say about her sister, thought she was just a stupid child, whereas he really appreciated her. He took advantage of her, plain and simple.’


  Flo’s stomach turned at the thought. Aggie would never have betrayed her sister; Flo knew her to be a loyal and loving woman who always put family first. Bill Wilson would have engineered something despicable to have made Aggie lose her way like that when she was at her lowest. Flo could easily imagine what he could have said. She knew her father to be a charmer when he wanted to be; he would have no doubt offered her the love and comfort she needed while she was awash with grief. Not for the first time Flo felt hatred like no other burn deep inside her soul at the thought of this man. Were there no depth he wouldn’t stoop too?

  ‘Poor Aggie,’ Flo murmured. ‘And poor Celia too. Did they ever make amends?’

  ‘They did.’ Henry nodded. ‘Aggie told her straightaway what she had done, and of course blamed herself. Celia knew better, though, and realised instantly that Bill was at fault. Celia told her to forget all about it, to move on and not let it ruin her future. But before long Aggie discovered she was pregnant and she was terrified of the shame having a baby would bring.’

  ‘So what did they do?’

  ‘The sisters came up with a plan. Aggie went away to an unmarried mothers’ home in Kent and when she came home with you she gave you to Celia to raise as her own. It seemed like the best thing for everyone. Aggie could be a treasured aunt, and a part of Celia hoped that bringing a baby into the house would tame Bill again as, sadly, even though Celia had tried to fall pregnant again she had failed.’

  ‘It would have seemed like a good idea, I suppose,’ Flo said.

  ‘It was for a while. Celia adored you, and everyone seemed to believe the story about Aggie being your aunt. Aggie found her own happy ending by marrying Ray when you were about one. Ray adored you too in his own quiet way and never knew the truth.’

  Flo closed her eyes, a fleeting early memory appearing in her mind’s eyes as she remembered how she and Celia used to go to Aggie’s house. Together they sat around the piano, and the sisters taught Flo to play and sing. Flo could vividly remember the Yardley’s scent her aunt had worn, filling the room as easily as her uncle’s rolling laughter as he clapped and giggled in all the right places. She had been so happy then; where had it all gone wrong?

  ‘You got to about five years old before Bill became horribly violent again,’ Henry carried on, as if reading Flo’s mind. ‘He inflicted so much misery on Celia that she couldn’t stand it. She was terrified he would hurt you too.’

  ‘So that was why Celia left?’

  Henry nodded. ‘The sisters had it all planned out. Aggie would raise you as her niece, even though you were her own flesh and blood. Celia took some of the money she had been saving from the pitiful housekeeping Bill had given her, and Aggie gave her some extra from the money she had saved from her singing nights. She told Celia to get away, start a new life somewhere and promised Bill would never hurt you or Celia again.’

  ‘Celia said we were just popping round for tea and that I could play in the park after,’ Flo said, the memory of the day rushing back to her. ‘Then she had kissed my head and left. I kept begging Aggie to take me to the park, I was desperate to find her and looked for days.’

  ‘She stayed in South London for a while, then went over to Kent and finally up to Harrogate with her new name, Celia Hallam.’

  Flo rubbed a hand across her face, her mind working at a rate of knots as she tried to make sense of the story. She suddenly felt very tired but she knew there was so much more to say before this wretched day was over.

  ‘I need to see Celia,’ she said, getting to her feet. ‘And I think I need to see her alone.’

  Henry nodded in understanding. ‘I’ll be here if you need me.’

  Flashing him as grateful a smile as she could muster, Flo walked wearily back into Celia’s room and closed the door.

  She stood for a moment by the door and observed the woman she now knew to be her aunt lying in the bed. Her breathing was even more laboured now and Flo noticed that her skin had gone a deathly grey. She didn’t have much time to atone for the sins of the past, but she wanted to do what she could while she still had the chance.

  Stepping cautiously across the floor towards the bed, she took her aunt’s hand and squeezed it tenderly. Up close, Flo could see immediately why she’d thought her familiar when they first met at the school all those months ago. Celia had the same face shape as Aggie, the same build, the same sloped nose and high cheekbones. Even the hair, fanned out across the pillow, contained the same rich mahogany. The clues had been there all along.

  All Flo wanted in that moment was a chance to start again. She wanted to make everything right, for her, for Aggie and for Celia. But Flo knew that would never happen. She gazed at her; she knew Celia didn’t have long and she so wanted to make these final few moments count.

  ‘Celia,’ she whispered into her aunt’s ear. ‘Henry has told me everything.’

  There was nothing but silence and for a moment Flo wondered if the worst had happened and Celia had passed before Flo had been able to tell her how she felt.

  But then Celia managed to blink her eyes open and gingerly turn her face towards Flo. ‘My love,’ she croaked. ‘I’m so sorry, I never wanted to lie.’

  Flo laced her warm fingers through Celia’s cool ones. ‘You have nothing to be sorry for. You loved me, and you placed me in a loving home, and you’ve shown me nothing but love since we were reunited. I want to thank you for everything.’

  ‘No,’ Celia begged, the smallest of words now clearly almost too much of an effort.

  ‘Yes,’ Flo said gently. ‘Don’t try and speak any more, just listen. You were the one that helped me face my grief and you were the one that helped me live again. You were the friend I needed most when I didn’t know how to heal, and you have been there for me all my life. Celia, I will never forget you and I will always love you.’

  Celia opened her mouth and closed it and Flo could see that the life force within her aunt was draining away.

  ‘Love …’ she managed, the effort now clearly far too much.

  ‘I know,’ Flo whispered as she pressed a kiss to her aunt’s hand. ‘You don’t need to say it. I know you love me; you always have.’

  With that, Flo watched as Celia’s chest sank and a final rattle echoed in the back of her throat. Flo knew she had gone.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  It was Henry who brought Flo back to Bell Street. After such a long day, with so many truths revealed, Flo had left the hospital feeling shaken and the former store deputy had led her to a chair and tightly held her hands while she told him that Celia had died.

  Henry had taken charge and brought Flo home, where he told Dot and Alice everything that had happened, suggesting that she get some rest immediately.

  The girls had thanked Henry profusely, and although Flo had no real memory of it she remembered Dot had bundled her upstairs, put her to bed and told her to forget everything else; she would have a word with Mr Button and take care of it all.

  It was just as well as Flo slept for thirty-six hours straight, so exhausted was she by everything that had happened. She woke with a start. She reached for her watch and saw it was late morning, and got out of bed, wincing from the bumps and bruises she had sustained during that terrible day.

  Just then there was a knock at the door and Dot’s head appeared through the crack. ‘Made you a cuppa.’

  Walking in and sitting next to Flo on the edge of her bed, she held the cup out to Flo who took it gratefully.

  ‘Thought I heard movement. About time you woke – it’s Friday! You slept the whole day yesterday.’

  ‘What? I can’t believe it! That long?’ Flo exclaimed, yawning.

  ‘You needed it,’ Dot remarked. ‘How are you feeling?’

  Flo let out a hollow laugh as she set the cup down on the little wooden table beside her bed. ‘I feel like I’ve been run over by a great big steam train.’

  ‘Understandable, darlin’.’

  ‘I just can’t believe it. Aggie was my mu
m all along, Dot. Did you know?’

  Dot shook her head. ‘I didn’t, darlin’. If I did I’d have told her to tell you. Secrets aren’t good for a family, but then again some secrets are best kept.’

  Flo nodded. ‘I just wonder what our lives would have been like if she’d told me.’

  Dot took hold of Flo’s hand, the stiff material of her housecoat bristling against Flo’s arm. ‘I suppose she thought she was doing the right thing, she didn’t want to cause you any more upset.’

  ‘But if I’d known, maybe we could have found Celia and we could all have been reunited. We could have lived like a proper family,’ Flo moaned, the memory of Celia’s final breath all too clear.

  ‘You mustn’t think like that, Flo,’ Dot said firmly. ‘Aggie and Celia acted in your best interests always.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Flo said. Tears were rolling down her face now.

  ‘I do,’ Dot replied. ‘You were the little girl Aggie and Celia made together. They poured that much love into you, and you were Aggie’s world.’

  ‘And she was mine,’ Flo wept. ‘I just think if only she had told me the truth, I would have understood why she was so terrified of Bill coming back. I would have done more to protect her. I’ve missed out on so much, on knowing who my real mother was, on getting to know my aunt and it’s all because of one vile brute of a man …’

  As Flo’s voice trailed off Dot wrapped an arm around her. ‘Listen to me, Florence Canning. I may not have known the truth of your parentage, but I did know Aggie and I got to know Celia. Neither one of them would want you thinking like this. They would only have ever wanted the best for you and would have been destroyed if they thought you were blaming yourself. Those women did everything they could to keep you safe, my girl. It’s time to repay them by being happy. Enough is enough now.’

  ‘You sound like Celia.’ Flo smiled through her tears.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Celia said I had grieved enough. That it was time to start living.’