Memories Are Made of This

by June Francis

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Dorothy Wilson, Sam and Carol’s friend, up on the stage.’

  ‘Fancy that! I didn’t tell you, either, that I remembered where I’d heard Whalley mentioned before,’ said Jeanette. ‘It was to do with some customers who come into the milk bar. They know someone who grew up there. She used to be an Emma Booth but now she’s married to Maggie’s brother.’

  ‘Emma Booth!’ Hester sat up straight. ‘I remember her. I attended the same school whilst I was there. She lived with her grandparents. Well, well, it’s a small world.’

  Jeanette smiled. ‘Isn’t it just. Did you get to speak to Dorothy Wilson?’

  ‘Yes, I decided that I couldn’t let the opportunity slip by. She remembered me and asked after Sam. Her mother died last year and she’s all alone in the world. I meant to mention seeing her to him, but it slipped my mind.’

  ‘You should tell him.’

  ‘I will,’ said Hester, putting down her cup hastily and reaching for her handkerchief. She sneezed into it.

  ‘You’re not getting a cold, are you?’ asked Jeanette, pushing her chair further back. ‘If you are, I don’t want it.’

  ‘I don’t want you to get it,’ said Hester in a muffled voice. ‘By the way, when are you going to see that new Glynis Johns’ film?’

  ‘Don’t know, why?’

  ‘Because Dorothy is in it. She only has a tiny role but it made her rethink what she’d really like to do.’

  ‘Tell me what she looks like and I’ll watch out for her. There was a review of it in the Echo last week and an interview with Glynis Johns, but it won’t be showing until the week before Christmas.’ Jeanette yawned.

  Hester stuffed her handkerchief up her sleeve. ‘I wonder where Aunt Ethel has gone?’

  ‘I don’t know and I don’t care, just as long as she’s out of the way.’ Jeanette turned a page of the Echo and a few moments later asked, ‘What do you think of bigamy?’

  ‘What on earth makes you ask that?’

  ‘Because of what it says here. Apparently the reason why some people go missing is because they’ve committed bigamy. They find someone else and because they don’t want to cope with going through a divorce, they change their name, pretend the first marriage never took place and marry someone else.’ She lifted her head and stared across at Hester. ‘It happened quite a bit during the Great War and afterwards. Now it’s not so easy to just change your name and get a job when you move somewhere else because of National Insurance numbers. Unless you get a job cash in hand like my part-time one.’

  ‘Why are you so interested in this subject?’ asked Hester, stifling a sneeze.

  Jeanette sighed. ‘Dad and my mother didn’t marry for love, you know. What if she did fall in love with someone else and couldn’t bear to live without him and—’

  ‘You don’t really believe that, do you?’ asked Hester, lowering her handkerchief.

  ‘I don’t want to, but it would mean she was still alive somewhere.’

  ‘She loved you too much to go off with another man,’ said Hester firmly. ‘Unless it can be proved, I’m not going to believe it. Now, if she had lost her memory and remarried, that would be different.’

  ‘Dad told me he visited several hospitals in search of her but everything was in such a mess – records destroyed, and so on,’ said Jeanette softly.

  ‘Let’s change the subject.’

  ‘OK. Tell me something more about Dorothy Wilson?’

  Hester leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. ‘She’s been involved in all kinds of plays, and not only in the theatre. She’s been on the wireless and even on the television. She’s interested in what goes on behind the camera as well. She told me she’d enjoy filming a documentary in Liverpool.’

  ‘What kind of documentary?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘I don’t know why she doesn’t make a thriller. One of those black and white gritty films with sailors, a tart with a heart, fog and a juicy murder,’ said Jeanette with relish.

  ‘Murders aren’t fun in real life.’ Hester reached for her handkerchief and sneezed again. ‘Damn!’ she exclaimed in a muffled voice. ‘I really have got a cold coming on and it’s bloody inconvenient.’

  ‘Would you like me to make you a hot-water bottle?’ said Jeanette, putting down the newspaper. ‘You’re probably best going to bed early.’

  Hester thanked her and within the hour she was tucked up in bed, praying that she would feel better in the morning.

  Feeling worse if anything the following day, Hester struggled into work, rather than being home at Ethel’s mercy. She dosed herself with Aspro and bought a bottle of lemon, honey and glycerine to ease her sore throat, determined to be fit for her date with Cedric.

  She had told her friend Wendy about him, and she had suggested that Hester pass on an invitation to the evening do of her wedding. ‘I can’t wait to see him,’ she had added, her eyes twinkling.

  Hester had yet to mention it to Cedric and knew that she was leaving it a bit late to extend the invitation because it was for the coming Saturday. She crossed her fingers and hoped for the best. Unfortunately by Wednesday her cold was no better and she began to doubt that she would be fit enough to attend the wedding if she didn’t take a couple of days off. On Thursday morning she was still feeling rough and knew that she would have to cancel her date. As Cedric had told her he was taking his mother to the hospital that day, she knew it was no use phoning through to his station. So she decided to ask Jeanette to do her a favour.

  ‘Anything within reason,’ she said.

  ‘I want you to meet Cedric for me this evening on your way home from work and give him a message.’

  ‘OK. Where and what time?’

  Hester told her, adding, ‘Explain to him that I’ve been ill but hope to be better by Saturday. Wendy’s invited him to her evening do. Ask after his mother and see if he can come. It’s at the Co-op hall in Edge Lane. I’ll meet him outside at seven thirty.’

  ‘OK,’ said Jeanette, making for the door.

  Hester called after her. ‘You do remember what he looks like?’

  ‘No doubt I’ll recognize him when I see him,’ said Jeanette, and was about to close the bedroom door when she remembered something. ‘By the way, did you tell Sam about seeing Dorothy Wilson at the theatre?’

  Hester sagged against the pillows. ‘No, I’ll tell him when I see him.’

  ‘Okey doke! I’ll see you this evening.’

  Jeanette groaned as she came out of the Cunard Building that evening to swirling fog. She wished Peggy was with her, but she had not turned in to work that morning. Jeanette drew up her scarf over her mouth. Hopefully it would not take her more than a quarter of an hour to reach Clayton Square.

  As she began to walk she found herself thinking of a Sherlock Holmes film called The Pearl of Death, which had a villain called the Creeper. She almost jumped out of her skin when a man loomed up out of the fog. He hurried past her. Sighing with relief, she just hoped that Cedric would be at the appointed place when she got there.

  To her annoyance there was no one who looked the least like the man she vaguely remembered waiting in Clayton Square. She was hungry and cold and decided to hang around outside Reece’s for a quarter of an hour, and if he didn’t come in that time she would go home. After ten minutes there was still no sign of him and her feet were in danger of turning into blocks of ice. She walked to Kendall’s and gazed at a colourful display of raincoats and umbrellas, and was on her way back when a man stepped out in front of her.

  Jeanette started, gazing up at the tall figure in a dog-tooth checked overcoat and a trilby pulled low over his forehead. The bottom half of his face was concealed by a scarf. ‘Are you Cedric?’

  He pushed back his hat and drew down his scarf. ‘That’s right. You wouldn’t be Hester’s sister, would you?’

  ‘Yes. Hester can’t come. She’s a rotten cold but is hoping to be better by Saturday.’

  �
��That’s a shame. I was looking forward to spending time with her this evening. There was a film I wanted to see. I don’t suppose you’d like to come in her stead?’

  The question took her aback. ‘I couldn’t! I’ve no money and besides, she’ll be waiting to hear what you had to say. I was also to tell you that it’s her friend Wendy’s wedding on Saturday and you’re invited to the evening do.’

  He frowned. ‘It’s a bit short notice. Is Wendy her friend who’s also a policewoman?’

  ‘That’s right. No doubt there’ll be several members of the force there. My brother’s going. You know he’s a detective sergeant?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said shortly. ‘I doubt I’ll be able to make it. My mother wants me to take her to see an old friend. You’ll give Hester my best wishes and tell her that I hope she is up and bouncing about soon. I’ll be in touch.’

  ‘I’ll tell her,’ said Jeanette, thinking her sister was going to be very disappointed. Suddenly she remembered something else she was to ask him. ‘Oh, she mentioned your mother. She wanted to know how she was after her trip to the hospital.’

  For a moment he stared at her blankly and then said hastily, ‘She’s not as bad as we feared, but she’s got to have treatment.’

  ‘I’ll tell her. Tarrah!’ She hurried away in the direction of the bus stop, not really knowing what to make of him. He might be tall, dark and good looking, but fancy asking her to go to the pictures with him? Perhaps she had better not mention that bit to Hester. She did not want her thinking that any female would do to keep him company. It was a pity he hadn’t thought of sending Hester his love. My best wishes sounded a bit formal. It would also have been kind of him to offer to escort her home, so that he could see how Hester was for himself.

  As soon as Jeanette saw Hester’s expectant face, she wanted to hit Cedric. He could have come home with her, but she bet a pound to a penny that he had gone to see that film he mentioned.

  ‘Well, was he there?’ she asked eagerly.

  ‘You feeling better?’ said Jeanette, sitting across the table to her.

  ‘Yes! But was he there?’ whispered Hester, glancing towards the door.

  ‘Yes, he was there.’ Jeanette glanced at the door. ‘Is Aunt Ethel in?’

  ‘No, she’s out, but one never knows when she’s going to suddenly appear like the wicked witch in a pantomime.’ She smiled at Jeanette. ‘Anyway, what did he have to say? Was he disappointed I didn’t turn up?’

  ‘Of course he was disappointed. He’d been planning on taking you to the pictures.’

  Hester sighed. ‘We were going to see Valley of the Kings with Robert Taylor.’

  A voice from behind Jeanette said, ‘I remember when our Jeanette had a crush on Robert Taylor.’

  She swivelled round. ‘Where did you spring from, Sam?’

  ‘Came in the back way.’ He took his dinner from the oven.

  ‘It’s ages since I fancied Robert Taylor,’ said Jeanette.

  ‘It was last year,’ said Sam. ‘There’s another dinner in here. Is it yours, Jeanette?’

  She nodded, getting up and going over to the oven. ‘This looks good.’

  ‘I cooked it so you’re safe,’ said Hester.

  ‘You must be feeling better if you made supper,’ said Jeanette.

  ‘Never mind that now,’ said Hester. ‘I want to know what Cedric said about Wendy’s wedding. Can he go?’

  ‘Cedric! I still think it’s an unusual name for a policeman,’ said Sam.

  Hester flushed. ‘It’s just uncommon. Whereas Sam is really common.’

  ‘Thanks very much,’ said Sam, grinning. ‘It’s the same as David Jones. Really popular.’

  ‘I wish you’d shut up about names,’ said Jeanette severely. ‘I want to say what I have to say.’ She paused. ‘Sorry, Hester. He can’t go. He has to take his mother to see an old friend. His mother, by the way, turned out to be not as bad as they thought when he took her to the hospital, but she’s got to have treatment. He said he’d be in touch.’

  ‘His mother?’ Sam slowly reached for the pepper.

  ‘Yes, he has a mother,’ said Hester, pulling a face at him. ‘Not a couple of wives hidden away.’

  Sam raised his eyebrows. ‘Why should I think he’s a bigamist? Anyway, when are we going to meet him?’

  ‘It’s early days for you needing to meet him. Although you could have met him at the wedding,’ said Hester. ‘By the way, I meant to tell you that when I went to the Playhouse with Cedric the other evening, Dorothy Wilson was in the play.’

  ‘I know she was,’ said Sam casually, sprinkling pepper over his food. ‘It’s the second time she’s appeared in a play in Liverpool in the last year.’

  His sisters stared at him. ‘Did you go and see her?’ asked Hester.

  ‘Yep. And she’s hoping to come to Wendy’s evening do with me.’

  ‘Wow! You’re a quick worker,’ said Jeanette.

  Sam grinned. ‘I always did like Dorothy. Pity about Cedric.’

  Hester frowned. ‘Now what do you mean by that?’

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘Pity he has to let you down.’

  ‘It can’t be helped.’

  ‘No, of course not,’ murmured Sam, forking more food into his mouth. ‘He seems to do a lot for his mother.’

  Hester stared at him. ‘I find it rather touching that he’s so solicitous about his elderly mother. I’d hope you’d be the same if our mother hadn’t died.’ She got up and walked out of the kitchen.

  Jeanette stared at Sam. ‘Why did you go on about Cedric and his mother?’

  Sam was quiet.

  ‘You don’t think he’s good enough for our Hester, do you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘But why? You’ve never met him – or have you? I have and I think he’s odd. He asked me to go to the pictures with him in Hester’s place.’

  Sam lifted his head. ‘Did he now!’

  She nodded. ‘I haven’t told her.’

  ‘Perhaps you should have. It would have really had her questioning what kind of man he is.’

  Jeanette frowned in thought. ‘I’ve just remembered something. I know these twins who come into the milk bar. I’m sure their brother’s in the Bootle division. D’you want me to ask if he knows Cedric and what he thinks about him?’

  ‘No! I have my own methods of gathering information. Don’t you worry about it. I’ll sort Cedric.’

  ‘OK, I was only trying to help.’

  They were silent as they finished their meal. Then as she gathered their plates and cutlery, she said, ‘I’m glad you’re going out with Dorothy Wilson.’

  He smiled. ‘I’m glad you’re glad.’

  ‘Does it mean you’re over Carol? I still feel something for Davy Jones, although I scarcely know him. Strange, isn’t it?’

  ‘Not if it’s gratitude for his coming to your rescue,’ said Sam, reaching for a cigarette. ‘I don’t suppose you’ll stop mooning over this Jones bloke until you see him again and realize you’ve built up a picture of him that proves false.’

  ‘Thanks for spoiling my fantasy!’ said Jeanette drily. ‘I think I’ll leave you to drink your tea alone, while I have a bath and daydream of Robert Taylor,’ she added mischievously. ‘I wonder where the old witch has gone? She’s been going out a lot in the evenings lately. Perhaps she’s found herself a fancy man.’

  ‘That’ll be the day,’ drawled Sam.

  Jeanette grinned, trying to imagine Ethel made up to the eyeballs, billing and cooing on the back row of the pictures with a mustachioed elderly gentleman.

  Later, as she turned on the bath taps and reached for Hester’s jar of lavender-scented bath salts, she wondered if David Jones really would turn out to be a disappointment if she did meet him again. Somehow she didn’t think so.

  She drowsed up to her neck in the warm, scented water. It was the sound of footsteps on the stairs that roused her and instantly she was on full alert. They stopped outside the door and she was glad that s
he had locked it. She watched the doorknob turn before being rattled.

  ‘Who’s in there?’ demanded Ethel. ‘I’m armed if you’re a burglar.’

  Jeanette stifled a laugh. ‘What burglar locks himself in the bathroom, Aunt Ethel? I’m having a bath and won’t be long.’

  ‘You damn well better hadn’t be long, whoever you are.’

  ‘It’s me, Jeanette,’ she called, wondering if the old woman really was going senile.

  ‘Well, you can get out of there! Using up all the hot water is selfish,’ grumbled Ethel. ‘You girls don’t know you’re born! If it weren’t for George, I’d make you take cold showers as I did my other girls. I’m going downstairs to make myself a cup of cocoa and if you’re not out by the time I get back, you’ll have a taste of the birch.’

  The birch! Jeanette wondered if her great-aunt had been drinking. She waited until she heard her go downstairs before getting out of the bath. Once dressed, she unlocked the door and ran along the landing to Hester’s bedroom. She knocked on the door. ‘Can I come in? The old witch threatened me with cold showers and the birch.’

  The door opened and Hester grabbed Jeanette by the front of her nightdress and dragged her inside. ‘I wonder where she’s been this evening,’ said Hester.

  ‘We should try asking her.’

  Hester shook her head. ‘Let’s not bother. I’ve enough on my mind right now without worrying about her.’

  ‘Cedric,’ said Jeanette, then wished she had not mentioned him because her half-sister looked so fed up. She had been going to tell her about his asking her to go to the pictures with him but changed her mind.

  ‘I’d planned on buying a new dress. A real fancy one.’

  ‘Well, what’s stopping you from still doing that? You are still going to go to the wedding, aren’t you?’

  Hester hesitated, then nodded. ‘Of course! Wendy would be upset if I wasn’t there. We’ve been friends since we joined the force.’