‘If only I’d taken her to watch Punch and Judy myself,’ she fretted one day when Pearl had persuaded her to get up. She refused to go out for fear of people asking after Joy. Only Mrs Potts had been told of the tragedy, and they all colluded in a wall of silence. While there was no body to bury, they could still hope.
‘Don’t say that,’ Pearl answered as she spoon-fed Joanne, thankful that Jack was out with Colin. He had taken the boy to watch the ferries down at the docks. ‘You couldn’t possibly have known what would happen − no one could.’
‘It was just laziness not taking her myself,’ Gloria continued as if Pearl had not spoken. ‘If I hadn’t felt so sleepy… But the baby always made me so tired, waking in the night.’
Pearl grew concerned at this train of thought. Gloria was twisting things round to blame Joanne. If anyone was innocent of the whole tragedy it was the baby. ‘Joy disappearing had nothing to do with Joanne,’ Pearl insisted.
‘No?’ Gloria questioned, her look straying back to the photograph of Joy in her hands. Her face suddenly crumpled. ‘No,’ she admitted, ‘it was my fault. I let her down, my little pet. I should never have trusted her to anyone else. I’m her mother−’ She broke into dry, racking sobs.
Pearl rushed to her and put her arms about her thin shoulders. ‘Of course you are. You always will be,’ she said gently. ‘But you’ve got the other two to think of as well. They need their mother too.’
She had meant to comfort her sister, to show her she was still loved and needed by her other children, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. Gloria gave out a desolate cry like a wounded bird and clutched the photograph tighter.
‘She’s still out there somewhere,’ she sobbed. ‘I know it. I’ll never believe she’s gone until they find some proof.’ She looked up at Pearl with wild eyes. ‘Joy still needs me.’
Pearl coaxed her back to bed, seeing how the conversation was making her agitated. She thought her sister quite deluded. She did not believe that Joy was still alive and the sooner Gloria came to terms with this the better. Pearl was due back at work in ten minutes, but she did not like to leave her sister alone. Glancing outside, she saw the sun lighting up the coppery leaves of the horse chestnut across the road and was reminded of the false illuminated trees of Blackpool. She shuddered, suddenly longing to be out of the house.
‘I’ve got to go now,’ she told Gloria, plonking Joanne on the bedroom floor with some wooden bricks. ‘Jack’ll be back shortly. Will you be all right?’ Gloria was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall. ‘The baby’s fed and changed,’ Pearl added.
Gloria looked up and nodded. ‘Time to be off,’ she acknowledged.
‘Aye,’ Pearl said. ‘I’ll see you at teatime.’
She saw Joanne look round and grin. ‘Da-da!’ she gurgled, putting down the brick she had been chewing and stretching out her arms.
‘Ta-ta, pet.’ Pearl blew her a kiss. But when Joanne saw she was going, she pulled herself up on the bedcovers and tried to totter towards her. Pearl closed the door quickly behind her so the child could not escape. She heard Joanne wail in protest. But Pearl did not have time to placate her. Gloria would have to see to her daughter for once, Pearl determined. She would have to tell them soon that she had handed in her notice and signed up with an agency for a stewarding job. If all went to plan, in a month’s time she would be going south to join a cruise ship. She felt her spirits lift at the thought.
After work, she detoured round the high street to buy sausages from the butcher’s, and some cooking apples from the greengrocer to stew into a puree for the children. When she got home, she was startled to find Mrs Potts minding Joanne and a tearful Colin.
‘He’s gone out looking for Mrs Elliot,’ the neighbour answered Pearl’s anxious look.
‘Mammy’s gone!’ Colin bawled, rushing at his aunt’s legs.
‘Where?’ Pearl asked. ‘Has she left a message?’
Mrs Potts shook her head. ‘Mr Elliot thinks she’s taken a change of clothes − and the housekeeping money he kept in the dresser’s missing. He’s gone to the police. It’s a terrible business,’ she tutted. ‘Mr Elliot came back to find she’d left the baby on her own − screaming the place down she was, poor little lamb. Mrs Elliot’s not in her right mind, if you ask me.’
Pearl sank down, all strength drained from her legs. She pulled Colin into her arms and hugged him tight. ‘Daddy will find Mammy,’ she crooned, trying to placate the distressed child. ‘Please God he does,’ she added in a whisper.
Jack came back late that night without Gloria. ‘I’m going to Blackpool tomorrow − I’m sure she’s gone there. You’ll look after the bairns for me, won’t you?’
Pearl bristled at his off-handedness, as if she was just some skivvy whom he now took for granted. For too long she had been a prop to both Gloria and Jack. If she had stood up for herself sooner and lived a more independent life, none of this might have happened, she rebuked herself. She felt like telling him to let the police do the searching, but she didn’t.
‘Aye, I’ll look after them,’ she said shortly, ‘but just this time. They’re not my bairns and they’re not my responsibility. When you come back, I’m packing in me job and going away. I’ve got a stewarding job.’ She stopped, seeing his look of amazement, and sighed, unable to be angry with him. ‘I’m sorry, Jack, but I can’t go on like this. It’s no good me being around. You and Gloria have to sort things out between the two of you. I’m just making things worse being here.’
He looked at her for a long moment and Pearl could not fathom if he was angry or sad. ‘Aye, you’re right,’ he said at last.
They said nothing more on the matter, and the next day Jack prepared to leave for Blackpool. But Joanne, who had been listless and whiny since the night before, developed a sudden temperature and Jack went racing in a panic for the doctor.
‘Just keep her cool,’ the doctor advised, ‘and I’ll call in again this evening.’
‘I can’t go while she’s poorly.’ Jack was adamant, and Pearl was secretly thankful, not wanting the responsibility of nursing a sick Joanne.
The fever was gone a day later and Jack prepared once more to leave. This time he was more hesitant. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind being left?’ he asked.
‘No, you go,’ Pearl assured him. ‘Mrs Potts has offered to help me out.’
‘I’ll fetch Gloria back and talk some sense into her,’ Jack determined, putting on a brave face. ‘We’ve two canny bairns still alive and we’ll get over this somehow,’ he said stoutly.
Pearl was encouraged by his fortitude, but shortly after he had left for Newcastle’s Central Station, there was a long ring at the door. Annoyed in case it woke the napping children, Pearl peered down from the sitting room window. Her heart stopped to see a policeman standing there. She raced downstairs, her mind in turmoil. Had something happened to Jack, or had they news of Gloria? Could they possibly have found Joy at last?
The officer asked for Mr Elliot, so she knew that he at least was safe. ‘Can I come in?’ he asked, when hearing she was Mrs Elliot’s sister. Pearl led him upstairs, heart pounding.
‘I’m very sorry, Miss…?’
‘Rimmer,’ Pearl croaked. ‘Pearl Rimmer.’
‘Miss Rimmer.’ He cleared his throat. ‘We’ve heard from the police in Blackpool. Your sister…’
‘They’ve found her there?’ Pearl asked in hope.
‘Yes,’ he answered, ‘but I’m afraid there’s been an accident. Mrs Elliot’s been knocked over by a tram. The driver claims she just stepped out in front of him, he didn’t have time to slow down.’
‘Is she alive?’ Pearl whispered.
The officer shook his head. ‘I’m sorry. She was killed instantly.’
Pearl covered her face with her hands. ‘Oh, dear God!’ Then she looked at him in horror. ‘Jack’s catching the train to Blackpool now. He was sure she’d gone there.’
‘We’ll ring through to the station to s
top him,’ the policeman said at once with a sympathetic look. ‘We know about their missing daughter. Did you suspect she’d gone back there to carry on looking?’
Pearl nodded, hardly able to speak. ‘She believes Joy is still alive somewhere. Believed…’ She broke off.
‘I know this is painful, Miss Rimmer,’ the man said diffidently, ‘but did she leave any note − any indication that she meant to take her own life?’
Pearl looked at him in horror. ‘No!’ she insisted. ‘There was no note. I told you, she was convinced Joy was still alive. She took money to live on − and photographs of her. That belief was keeping her going.’
The officer shook his head sadly. ‘Yes, I’m sorry, but we have to ask. Do you have a neighbour who can be with you until Mr Elliot gets back?’ he asked, standing up. She nodded. ‘I’ll get on to the station right away and see if we can stop him.’ Pearl’s insides twisted to think of this further blow to Jack. On the point of going, the policeman asked. ‘There’s just one other thing. Mrs Elliot was found carrying something when she was knocked over.’
‘What?’ Pearl asked numbly.
‘A child’s spade. A red one,’ he answered. ‘And she was crossing the carriageway towards the beach.’
Pearl’s heart squeezed to think of a weakened and dazed Gloria heading back to the beach where they had last seen Joy, clutching the girl’s spade. Her mind must have been so preoccupied with searching once more for her lost daughter that she wouldn’t have noticed the tram bearing down towards her.
‘That proves it wasn’t suicide. She was still looking for Joy − it was the lass’s spade.’ Pearl said, her eyes brimming with tears at last.
***
Within a week, Gloria’s quiet funeral had been held and her remains cremated. By the end of October, Jack had paid a month’s rent up front on a small terraced house in Jericho Street, the other side of Wallsend.
‘I don’t want to stay here any longer,’ he told Pearl bluntly, ‘even if you weren’t going away. I can’t bear this place. I want to start somewhere fresh with the bairns. They’re all that matters to me now and I’m going to bring them up properly − like Gloria would’ve wanted.’
Pearl flinched. She had had second thoughts about leaving since Gloria’s sudden death, worrying about how Jack would cope with the children. If he had asked her to stay, she would have done, even at this late stage. But he had not. Instead, he had made the decision not to return to sea at all. He was looking for a land-based job and would employ help while the children were still young. Once Aunt Julia’s flat was sold, there would be money to pay for such care from Gloria’s share.
But Pearl could not get Jack to talk about how he really felt. He never mentioned Joy any more, and began to talk about Gloria to Colin as if she were some tragic saint. There were pictures of Gloria about the house, but any with Joy in had been removed. It was as if by denying Joy’s very existence Jack could stop blaming himself for her disappearance. Pearl knew there was something unhealthy about this attitude, but she saw that it was Jack’s way of coping with the recent horrors. She managed to salvage one photograph of herself standing with Joy at a local fair, the two of them beaming, ridiculously happy at some joke of the photographer’s.
When Pearl finally came to leave, she found it much harder to say goodbye to Colin and Joanne than she had imagined. Colin climbed all over her and whined about her going, while Joanne grinned and dribbled against her cheek, not understanding. Pearl clutched them to her, breathing in their babyish smells.
‘You’ll come and visit us in Jericho Street, won’t you?’ Jack asked awkwardly. ‘You’re always welcome − the bairns would like it.’
Pearl nodded, realising that now the flat was sold, she could make her home anywhere in the world. ‘And thanks for agreeing to store me things for me in the meantime.’
She felt ridiculous shaking hands with him when she really wanted to fling her arms around his neck and cry. But she had been unable to comfort him these past few weeks; he had kept her well at arm’s length. Whatever he had felt for her in the past, she knew the feeling was now dead. He wanted her to leave and start a new life for herself, perhaps blamed himself that he and Gloria had stood in her way for so long, demanding too much of her.
The taxi she had booked hooted below. ‘I’ll write,’ she promised, tearfully handing the children over to their father. He nodded, swinging Colin up into one arm and Joanne in the other, jollying them.
‘Auntie Pearl’s going to sail the seven seas − and send us postcards of faraway places,’ he told them. ‘And we’re going to live in a proper house, with lots of bairns in the street to play with. Won’t that be grand?’
Pearl smiled, thinking of the dowdy area that would soon be their home. At least Jericho Street was near the park, and Jack was right that it was probably full of children playing out in the street, not like here, next to the busy dock traffic. Pearl was suddenly moved by the sight of Jack holding on to his two remaining children. She knew in that moment that they would be all right with him, that he would dedicate his future to caring for them and bringing them up the way Gloria would have wanted. She chided herself for her recent day-dreams that she might become a part of it. With painful realisation, she saw that Jack did not need her. She could not begin to be a replacement for Gloria and Joy, even had she wanted to be.
With that thought weighing heavily in her heart, she turned and hurried out of the flat and down to the waiting taxi. As she climbed into the cab, she glanced up and saw the three of them gazing down from the upstairs window. She waved quickly and then scrambled into the back seat. Only when the taxi had turned the corner did she allow herself to weep.
Chapter Thirty
1982
Jo stared at Pearl, tears streaming silently down her face. In the end it had been her aunt who had told most of the painful story. Jo was shattered to discover she had had an older sister that no one had ever told her about. But worst of all was the discovery that her mother had never loved her, had cared only for this Joy she would never know. Gloria had died, distraught and alone, still trying to find the daughter she really loved and could not live without. The saintly, gentle mother in the fairytale wedding dress, whom Jo had fantasised about as a child, had never existed − or at least not for her.
‘Did Colin know about any of this?’ Jo croaked.
Pearl shook her head. Jack seemed unable to speak. He just sat trembling on the edge of the settee next to Mark, his eyes bloodshot from weeping. Jo wanted to go to him and hug him, but she could not move. She wondered whether she really knew him at all. How was it possible to live all your life with someone and not know such fundamental things about them? she thought in bafflement. But her mind was bursting with unanswered questions.
‘Did − did they ever find Joy’s body?’ she whispered.
For the first time in several minutes her father spoke. ‘No; never.’ He looked old and haggard, sitting there with lines of pain creased around his mouth. Jo felt confused. She experienced sympathy as well as anger at the mess he had made of things.
‘Oh, why did you never tell me the truth?’ she demanded. ‘How can I trust you about anything when you’ve kept me in the dark all these years? It’s as if I don’t really know you.’ But her father just hung his head in shame.
Mark suddenly spoke. ‘That’s how I felt about me nana − really angry and let down. Why didn’t she say something sooner?’
Jo looked at Mark, suddenly realising how hurt he must have been by the truth about his grandfather. It had seemed easy from her point of view to accept Ivy’s story and sympathise with the older woman, but then she had not been affected by it. Now she could understand Mark’s resentment and contradictory feelings.
Pearl said quietly, ‘Ivy thought she was protecting you by not saying anything, but really she was making it much worse in the long run.’ She leaned over and squeezed Jo’s hand. ‘Your father thought the same. That’s why I went along with the secret. It was
n’t deliberate at first − we just didn’t mention it. Then after you’d moved to Jericho Street and none of the neighbours knew about Joy anyway, it seemed impossible to talk about it. I was only around from time to time. The secret just grew.’
‘So that photograph of you and the little girl you showed me...’ Jo gulped. ‘That was me sister?’
‘Yes, it was,’ Pearl admitted.
Jack looked winded. ‘I had no idea that you’d kept a photo of her.’
‘I had to,’ Pearl said defensively. ‘At times it was the only thing I had to remind me she wasn’t just a figment of me imagination.’
‘I don’t blame you,’ Jack said hastily. ‘It’s just − I − I’d like to see it,’ he said with difficulty. Jo could see he was struggling not to weep again. Suddenly her heart went out to him and she was overwhelmed by the tragedy and futility of it all. However shattering it was to discover that her mother had resented her, the fact remained that her father had always loved and cared for her.
‘Oh, Dad!’ she cried, rushing over to him. ‘I’m sorry…’
She felt his arms go round her in a hug of relief. ‘I’m the one who’s sorry, pet!’ he rasped.
‘You shouldn’t have punished yourself all these years,’ Jo insisted.
‘But I was to blame,’ Jack said stubbornly.
‘No, you weren’t − it was all a terrible accident,’ Jo tried to reassure him. Jack just shook his head.
‘He’ll not be told,’ Pearl said wearily. ‘He wants to go on blaming himself − he feels guilty when he’s happy.’
‘That’s not true,’ Jack protested. ‘I just didn’t find it as easy to get over the deaths as you did.’
‘How dare you!’ Pearl snapped. ‘You have no idea how I felt ’cos you never asked me. You’ve been punishing me all these years, because of your guilty feelings towards me!’
THE TYNESIDE SAGAS: Box set of three dramatic and emotional stories: A Handful of Stars, Chasing the Dream and For Love & Glory Page 115
