16

The morning after her visit to Laurel House, Lily Sharples went to the phone box at the end of the road, and rang the number Mrs Hawkins had given her. She was determined to get an appointment to see Miss Vanstone. The number was answered almost immediately with a sing-song ‘Vanstone Enterprises! May I help you?’

For a moment Lily was thrown. She had thought the number she’d been given would connect her straight with Miss Vanstone.

‘Oh, er…’ she began, ‘I, er, I need to speak to Miss Vanstone.’

‘Putting you through,’ carolled the operator. There was a click and a whirr and then a woman said, ‘Miss Vanstone’s office.’

‘Miss Vanstone?’ asked Lily, hesitantly.

‘No, I’m afraid Miss Vanstone isn’t available just now. This is her secretary, Miss Drake, may I help you?’

‘Maybe,’ Lily was unfamiliar with the workings of an office. ‘I need to see Miss Vanstone.’

‘I see,’ the voice on the other end said calmly, ‘and may I ask in what connection?’

‘Pardon?’

‘What did you want to see her about?’ asked Miss Drake, patiently.

‘That’s between me and her,’ replied Lily stiffly, adding, ‘It’s about EVER-Care and it’s urgent.’

‘I see,’ said the secretary again. ‘May I ask who’s calling?’

‘Mrs Lily Sharples.’

‘Thank you, Mrs Sharples,’ said Miss Drake, remembering her instructions. ‘Would you hold the line one moment, while I fetch her appointment book?’

Lily waited. She could hear noises on the other end of the phone as if someone were searching for something, then Miss Drake’s voice again. ‘Sorry to have kept you, Mrs Sharples, the diary was in the other office. Now then, let’s have a look.’ Another pause. ‘Ah yes, well, I’m afraid the first appointment I can offer you is Friday of next week, in the afternoon.’

‘But it’s urgent,’ cried Lily. ‘Can’t she see me sooner than that?’

Miss Drake was all apology. ‘I’m so sorry, Mrs Sharples, but I’m afraid not. Miss Vanstone’s away on business and won’t be back until next Thursday night, and she’s instructed me to keep her diary clear on the Friday morning. I shouldn’t really be putting you in, in the afternoon, but, well, you did say it was urgent. Shall we say at Laurel House, Friday 6 August at four o’clock?’

It was clear Lily couldn’t see this Miss Vanstone any sooner, so she agreed to the time and date and rang off. Disappointed she went back home. Ten days until she could find out any more about the girls. It seemed to stretch an eternity before her.

That afternoon the doorbell rang and she was surprised to see Carrie Maunder’s husband, John, outside on the step.

‘John!’ Immediately she feared the worst. ‘What’s the matter? Is Mavis all right… and Carrie?’

‘Far as I know, Mrs Sharples,’ John said cheerfully, ‘nothing’s happened to no one. Just thought I’d pop in and see you was all right… see if you’d got the kettle on.’

John Maunder had never been to her house, she hardly knew the man, but she opened the door wide and smiled. ‘Of course, John. Come on in.’

He followed her into the kitchen. ‘I’ve got a pot on the go,’ she told him, ‘but it might be a bit stewed. I’ll make a new pot.’

‘No, don’t worry about that, Mrs Sharples,’ said John. ‘I like my tea strong.’ He took a sip. ‘Lovely,’ he said, ‘just the ticket.’ He put the cup down and reached into the pocket of his jacket. ‘We thought you might like these,’ he said, and handed Lily a large envelope.

She took it, saying, ‘What’s this, then, John?’

‘Little present. Thought they might cheer you up.’

Lily opened the envelope and pulled out three photographs. She stared at them for a moment, and then looked up at him with tears in her eyes. ‘Oh, John, what a dear man you are!’ she breathed. In one hand she held a photo of Mavis in her wedding dress, and in the other a picture of Rita and Rosie standing together in their rose-patterned-curtain dresses, beaming at the camera. The third was of Mavis and Jimmy newly married on the steps of the register office. She looked back down at the girls, and the tears slid silently down her cheeks.

‘Now then, Mrs Sharples,’ said John in alarm. ‘No waterworks! I thought you’d like them.’

Lily smiled up at him through her tears and reassured him, ‘John, I just love them. It’s the only snap I got of them girls. I’ll put it in a frame on the mantelpiece. And the one of Mavis is lovely too,’ she added, almost as an afterthought. ‘She did look happy that day, didn’t she?’ She pulled her hankie from her sleeve and mopped her eyes. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘It was very thoughtful of you.’

‘Carrie said you’d like them,’ said John, clearly relieved that the tears had stopped. ‘Glad you do.’ He downed the rest of his tea and got to his feet. ‘Well, better be off. Only popped in for a mo, just to give you the snaps.’

Lily began to get to her feet, but he put a restraining hand on her arm. ‘Don’t get up, Mrs Sharples, I can find my way out. Ta ta for now.’

As she heard the front door close behind him, Lily looked again at the pictures, and this time she allowed the tears to flow. How long, she wondered as she gazed at the little girls’ beaming faces through the mist of her tears, how long would it be before she saw them again? How long before she could bring them home, here to Hampton Road, where they belonged?

Next morning Lily decided to walk round to Ship Street, once Jimmy had gone to work, and see how Mavis and baby Richard were getting on. Lily loved babies, and longed to have her new grandson in her arms again. When she reached the house she knocked on the door, and as she waited for Mavis to open it, she realized that she could hear Richard crying. She knocked again, and then, trying the door, found it on the latch.

‘Mavis?’ she called as she went into the hall. ‘Mavis? Is everything all right?’ There was no reply, but the crying was coming from upstairs, so Lily grasped the banister and hauled herself up to the landing. The wails came from Richard’s bedroom and when Lily opened the door she found the baby lying in his cot, scarlet-faced from screaming. She scooped him up into her arms and realized at once that he needed a nappy change. His clothes were wet through, and the cot sheet was soaked as well. She held him close and soothed him, rocking him comfortingly against her until his bellows died away to nothing more than a whimper, then she sat on a chair and with swift and practised movements stripped off his wet clothes and sodden nappy. Wrapping him in a cot blanket she carried him out of the room and into Mavis’s bedroom.

Mavis was in bed. She lay absolutely still with her head under the covers. For one dreadful moment Lily thought that she was dead, but, approaching the bed fearfully, she saw the faint rise and fall of the bedclothes and realized Mavis was deeply asleep.

She must be exhausted, Lily thought, if she slept through the racket young Richard’s been making. Seeing she was all right, Lily gave her attention to the baby.

‘Now then, young man,’ she murmured, ‘let’s get you comfy, eh?’ She pulled open a drawer and found a pile of terry nappies. Moments later he lay on her lap, clean and dry, as she pulled on a clean vest and romper. ‘There,’ she said, ‘that’s better, ain’t it? Let’s go down and find you some milk. We’ll leave your mummy to sleep. Looks as if she needs to. Did you have her up all night? Bet you did, you monkey.’

She carried Richard to the top of the stairs and then stopped. It was difficult enough for her to negotiate the stairs on her own, let alone carrying a small baby. Reluctantly she took him back to his cot. ‘Now, you stay there, darling,’ she said, ‘and Gran’ll go and find your bottle.’ Even as she left the room, Richard began to whimper again, and by the time she was in the kitchen he was going strong. When she struggled up the stairs again with the bottle, there was still no sound from Mavis’s room.

Sleeping the sleep of the dead, thought Lily as she gathered Richard up into her arms once again and offered him the teat. As if she had turned off an electric switch, his wails stopped and he latched onto the bottle, clearly very hungry indeed. Lily rocked him gently as he sucked, wondering as she did so when he’d last been fed. She looked at her watch. It was past eleven, no wonder he was hungry, he’d probably had his last feed at about six.

Richard finished his bottle and Lily swung him up onto her shoulder to burp him. Moments later, exhausted from his extended crying and with his stomach once more comfortably full, he was asleep in her arms, his little body relaxed against her, his head nestled under her chin. Lily sat holding him close for a while, before gently returning him to his cot. Mavis was still asleep in the next room and as far as Lily could tell, hadn’t moved an inch since. She stared down at her daughter for a long moment before leaving the room, quietly pulling the door to. Poor kid, she thought, she ain’t having an easy time of it, she needs her sleep.

Lily went back down to the kitchen and looked round. It was a disgrace. Not like Mavis to have it so bad. Lily sighed and rolling up her sleeves, set to work. It was nearly two hours later when she finally sat down with a cup of tea, but glancing round she decided all the hard work had been worth it. The kitchen was clean again. Lily was just looking into the meat-safe outside the back door when she heard footsteps, and turning round found Mavis coming blearily into the room.

‘Mum! What you doing here?’ Mavis looked dreadful. There were dark circles under her eyes, and a fading bruise on her forehead. Her hair, unwashed, hung in lank rats’ tails round her pale cheeks.

Lily, shaken by just how worn out Mavis looked, tried to school her expression. ‘Just clearing up a bit,’ she replied carefully. ‘You was fast asleep and Richard was crying. Didn’t want to wake you, so I changed and fed him. He’s asleep as well now.’

‘Yeah, I know,’ said Mavis, smothering a yawn. ‘I looked in on him.’ She glanced round the kitchen, suddenly aware that it was not as she’d last seen it. ‘You done the kitchen,’ she said.

‘Well, it needed a bit of a going over,’ her mother said, smiling. ‘Thought you might not have time to do it when you woke up.’

‘Thanks, Mum.’ Mavis flopped down on a chair and rested her head on the table. ‘Still not quite with it yet,’ she admitted.

‘Never mind, love.’

Lily poured them each a cup of tea, then said, ‘I was just looking to see what you’ve got for Jimmy’s tea. See you’ve got a couple of hearts in the safe. S’pose I stuff them for you, and you can pop them into the oven in time for when Jimmy come home. ’Spect he’s hungry when he come off the site, ain’t he?’

Mavis nodded. The tea had revived her a little and she smiled wanly at her mother. ‘Thanks, Mum, that would be lovely of you.’ She gave a shuddering sigh. ‘I don’t seem to be able to cope with Richard like I did with the girls. He cries a lot, which Jimmy hates, and I’m so tired. Jimmy don’t understand, he says how can you be tired when you’ve only been looking after a baby at home? He don’t see that as work.’

‘No, well, he wouldn’t, would he?’ replied Lily. ‘He’s a man!’

Lily prepared the hearts for Jimmy’s tea, but she made sure she was well away before he came home. She dare not come to the house when he was there, but she was determined to visit when he wasn’t. She knew Mavis needed her, and more to the point so did Richard. Lily had been horrified at the state in which she’d found him. She said nothing to Mavis about her search for Rita and Rosie. Mavis would never be able to keep it from Jimmy. She had no intention of saying anything about the girls until she had them safely back in her own home.

For the next few days she popped in regularly to see how Mavis was getting on. On more than one occasion she found her deeply asleep in bed, while Richard was left wet and unfed in his cot. Each time Lily sorted him out, and each time she encouraged Mavis to make the effort to look after him herself. Mavis was tearful, but she did seem grateful for Lily’s support.

On the day before Lily had her appointment with Miss Vanstone, she went round to Ship Street during the morning, ostensibly to see if Mavis wanted anything from the shops. When she got there she found Mavis doing the washing at the kitchen sink. Richard was lying, gurgling, in his pram in the yard outside the back door.

‘He sounds happy enough,’ Lily remarked.

‘Yeah, he’s OK.’ Mavis didn’t turn round, but simply continued doing the washing.

‘You look busy, love,’ said Lily cautiously. ‘Shall I put the kettle on?’

‘Can if you like,’ replied Mavis, still not turning, still pummelling clothes in the soapy water.

Lily picked up the kettle and moved across to the sink to refill it. Mavis edged aside, keeping her face averted. Lily filled the kettle and set it to boil on the stove, then she turned back to her daughter and, with a hand on her shoulder, turned her round.

For a moment she stared in shocked silence at the state of Mavis’s face, then she hissed, ‘The bastard! When did he do this?’

‘Last night,’ whispered Mavis. ‘He come home and Richard was crying, and I was upstairs with him, and the tea wasn’t ready.’

‘But what the hell did he do? Your face is a mess!’

‘You don’t have to tell me that, Mum! I got a mirror, haven’t I? He pushed me down the stairs. Hit my face on the banisters.’

‘Bastard! Bastard!’ Lily almost spat the words.

‘He was sorry after,’ Mavis said. ‘He didn’t mean to push me down the stairs, course he didn’t, just gave me a bit of a shove to hurry me up and I toppled over. My fault really.’

That was too much for Lily. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Mavis. Course it weren’t your fault.’

‘He said sorry after. Said he won’t ever do it again.’

‘You could’ve been killed, falling down them stairs,’ said Lily, unable to let the matter go.

‘Leave it, Mum, it was only a tumble.’ Mavis seemed determined to make light of what had happened, but Lily wasn’t going to let Jimmy off so easily.

‘You could’ve been holding the baby!’

‘He wouldn’t have pushed me if I’d been holding Richard,’ said Mavis. ‘He loves that baby.’

Lily bit back the retort that Jimmy loved no one but Jimmy, and said, ‘You must be bruised all over. Have you been to the doctor?’

Mavis gave a bark of laughter. ‘The doctor? Where do I find money for the doctor?’ Then seeing the concern on her mother’s face she said more gently, ‘I’m fine, Mum, really I am. A bit bruised, that’s all. Nothing broken.’

Lily didn’t stay long, she needed to get out of that house. Mavis was up and about, Richard was happy in his pram, and you never knew when Jimmy might walk in, and today, if she met Jimmy, she would be unable to control her anger at what he’d done.

Next afternoon Lily set off to Laurel House. This time she was expected and when the pale-faced maid opened the door, she was shown into a small parlour and told Miss Vanstone was expecting her. Five minutes later Miss Vanstone sailed into the room full of apologies at having kept her waiting. She led Lily to her office and settled her into a chair, before taking up her own place, behind her desk.

‘Now, Mrs Sharples, what can I do for you?’

Lily came straight to the point. ‘I come to find my granddaughters, Rita and Rosie. I know they’re here, ’cos that woman from the Children’s Office brought them.’

‘I’m very sorry, Mrs Sharples, but I’m afraid you’ve had a wasted journey,’ said Miss Vanstone smoothly. ‘We never discuss the children in our care.’

‘But surely I’m entitled to know where they are!’ cried Lily. ‘They’re my grandchildren after all, my flesh and blood.’

‘That I quite understand,’ said Miss Vanstone, ‘but when they were signed into our care, we became their guardians, and they no longer “belonged to you” as it were. However,’ she raised a hand to cut off Lily’s riposte, ‘in your case I will make an exception. You are clearly a loving grandmother and want to be sure that your granddaughters are well and cared for. So, this much I will tell you. We did indeed have Rita and Rose with us for a while. Miss Hopkins was extremely concerned that they should be removed from the vicinity of their new stepfather, who I understand is a violent man. She was rightly concerned for their safety. I am sure you’ve seen evidence of his violence?’ She cocked her head to ask the question and Lily found herself nodding.

‘So, you see,’ she went on, ‘they were brought here for their own protection. These days, however, that is a short-term measure. It is better to place such children in a safe, family environment. With this in mind, Rita and Rose have moved on… to be adopted.’

It was the first time, in her edited version of the truth, that Emily Vanstone told Lily an outright lie, justified in her own mind by the need to ensure this woman caused no more trouble. ‘We’ve found a charming couple, up north, who are prepared to take both of them, so they won’t be separated. They’ll grow up together in a happy home as sisters should. It is the best possible chance for them, as I’m sure, when you’ve thought it through, you’ll agree.’

Lily didn’t agree. She stared, dumbfounded, at the woman who had, without reference to anyone, put them up for adoption.

‘Adopted?’ she croaked at last.

‘Yes,’ nodded Miss Vanstone, ‘much the best option.’

‘And the Children’s Officer, that Miss Hopkins, has she agreed to all this?’

‘She’s been kept informed, naturally, as the children came to us through her, but she’s quite happy with the arrangement, yes.’

‘And they’ve already gone?’ whispered Lily. ‘To this new home?’

‘Yes. After they ran away from here, it was decided that we should move quickly to establish them somewhere safe in a permanent home.’

‘Can I see them?’ asked Lily, still struggling to take it all in. ‘Can I go and see them in this new place?’

‘No, I’m afraid not,’ replied Miss Vanstone regretfully. ‘That would not be appropriate.’

‘What d’you mean, not appropriate?’ demanded Lily, beginning to fight back. ‘Why can’t I see them? You just going to let them think that their mum and their gran simply forgot about them? It may be best, as you said, for them being with this new family. Maybe they can give them things what I can’t, but they need to know I’m still their gran and that I still love them.’

‘I can understand your feelings,’ sympathized Miss Vanstone, ‘but what you have to realize is that this would certainly unsettle them again, just when they’ve begun to find their feet with their new parents.’

‘New parents,’ echoed Lily with a catch in her voice. For a moment there was silence, as she wondered what to say next, and Miss Vanstone waited her out.

‘Can I write to them?’ Lily asked at last. ‘At least give me an address where I can write to them… tell them I love them.’

Miss Vanstone’s expression softened. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘I can’t actually give you the address, of course, but I tell you what I will do. If you want to write them a letter, and you give it to me, I will see that it’s posted on to them. How’s that? Even that’s bending the rules.’

‘You mean if I write them a letter, you’ll see that they get it?’

‘Of course,’ agreed Miss Vanstone smoothly, ‘but just the one.’

‘So if I write to them and bring you the letter, you’ll send it on?’

‘Yes, Mrs Sharples, I’ve just said I will,’ came the patient reply.

‘And you won’t open it or read it or nothing?’

‘Certainly not!’ Miss Vanstone sounded most affronted. ‘I don’t make a practice of reading private correspondence.’

‘No, no, course you don’t.’ Lily backtracked hastily; she didn’t want Miss Vanstone to change her mind. She’d simply have to trust her.

‘Why don’t you write to them now?’ suggested Miss Vanstone. ‘I’ll give you notepaper. Then you needn’t come all the way back again.’

‘Well,’ Lily hesitated, ‘I’m not sure.’ She’d much rather sit down at her own kitchen table, and take her time; but suppose Miss Vanstone wasn’t here when she came back? Suppose it was only the Hawkins woman? Lily certainly didn’t trust her. Safer, really, to take advantage of the offer, and give the letter to Miss Vanstone now.

Miss Vanstone opened a drawer and took out a sheet of notepaper and an envelope. Picking up a fountain pen from the desktop she said, ‘Here you are.’ She got to her feet as she spoke. ‘Now, I’ll take you back to the parlour and leave you to write your letter in peace, and when you have, just bring it back to me here. I’ll be here for at least half an hour.’

Swept along by the other woman’s briskness, Lily took the proffered writing materials and followed her back to the parlour.

‘You won’t be disturbed in here. All right?’

‘Yes, thank you,’ replied Lily, and with a smile Emily Vanstone closed the door.

Lily sat down at the table and looked at the notepaper. It was not a large piece; she would have to write concisely. It was so difficult to know what to say. She didn’t want to upset Rita and Rosie by sounding upset herself. She wanted to assure them they would never be forgotten, but she knew that, if she loved them, and at this moment she ached with love for them, she needed them to settle into their new home and be happy. At last she drew the sheet of notepaper towards her and began to write.

Dearest Rita and Rosie,

I hear from Laurel House that you have moved away and are living with a new family. How exciting! I’m sure they will be kind to you and you’ll be very happy in your new home. I just wanted to tell you that I’m out of hospital now, back at home in Hampton Road and going on all right. I don’t know exactly where you are, but Miss Vanstone says she’ll send this letter on to you. Remember, wherever you are you are my best girls. Look after Rosie, Rita. I know you will, and be very good for your new Mum and Dad.

Lots of love to you both,

Gran. xx

Lily read the letter through, it seemed very cold and unemotional, but she decided that was better than pouring out her grief at their being taken away. That would help no one. She also had to recognize that the adoptive parents would almost certainly read the letter, so she hoped that her comments about them would help make life easier for her girls. She added two more kisses on the bottom and then, with quiet resolution, folded the paper, and sealed it in the envelope.

Turning it over she wrote, Miss Rita and Rosie Stevens, leaving plenty of room for the address to be added below. She held the sealed letter in her hand for a moment and went back to the office.

Lily held out the letter. ‘Here you are,’ she said, and Miss Vanstone took it and laid it on her desk.

‘Aren’t you going to address it?’ asked Lily.

‘I’ll get my secretary to look out the address,’ replied Miss Vanstone with a smile. ‘I’m afraid I don’t carry all that sort of information in my head. Rest assured, Mrs Sharples, I’ll deal with your letter as soon as I can.’

The two women shook hands and Miss Vanstone walked Lily to the front door. When she had closed the door behind her visitor, she returned to her office. She picked up the letter that lay on her desk, spinning it round in her fingers, but she didn’t open it. She had promised not to; she simply tossed it into the wastepaper bin.