Page 60 of Lost Luggage
‘Nice wallpaper,’ muttered Dolly as she sat on the sofa. Edith clicked off the television, moving to and fro in a padded rocking chair.
‘I’m sure you haven’t interrupted my programme to admire my furnishings.’
Dolly placed her palms together, fingers intertwined. ‘I know about Greta.’
The chair stopped rocking.
‘She wasn’t my sister.’
Edith glanced sideways at the fireplace’s flames.
‘What did she say to you, that morning back in the seventies after my boyfriend, Fred, proposed? You mentioned that she was upset; Greta told you her worst nightmare had come true, spoke of a holiday that mustn’t happen. Now I realise she must have been terrified I’d ask for my birth certificate.’
The flames continued to flicker. Edith didn’t take her eyes off them.
‘You said she talked about other stuff.’
Edith lifted her chin. ‘It’s hard to recall.’
‘You aren’t surprised to hear we aren’t siblings. Please. Edith. I need to know.’
She faced Dolly. ‘Any secrets have gone with her to the grave. That’s as it should be. I’m a woman of my word.’
‘But I know she’s my mum, it’s written down in black-and-white. Why did she hide that? If only she hadn’t, I’d have married Fred, and she could have spent her life travelling as I know she wanted.’
Edith pushed herself up. ‘An enormous sense of shame overwhelmed Greta – and your… grandmother. Things were different back then.’
‘Do you know anything about my father?’
Edith unfolded her arms. ‘You’re putting me in an impossible position. I may not have liked Greta but a promise is a promise.’
Dolly pressed the balls of her palms against her eyes and took a moment. When her hands fell away, Edith was sitting again. ‘I understand. Greta would have admired your loyalty.’ Dolly waited. ‘Okay, I’d better get back. Thanks anyway.’ Her voice faltered. ‘An early night is probably wise. The estate agent’s already arranged a viewing for the bungalow, tomorrow morning.’
‘You’re moving?’ Edith’s eyebrows shot up, over-plucked and barely visible. ‘But the two of you created a home. Greta used to boast about the conservatory and I’ve always envied how close the two of you were to your neighbours. Mine only come around if they want me to sign for their parcels.’
‘My whole life there was based on deceit.’
‘But was it? Your sis— mother loved you very much. That was clear to everyone.’ She pulled out the cushion behind her back and hugged it to her chest. ‘Yes, Greta told me about… she got pregnant at sixteen.’
‘I’ve discovered that much.’
‘Okay, well, your potential trip to Paris broke her in some way. Your love for Fred was obvious but she insisted the trip must never happen, yet didn’t know how she’d live with the guilt of pushing you two apart, if she could. I think that’s why she left the job she loved so much, at Hackshaw Haulage, it made it easier for her, in the beginning, not seeing you upset all day.’ Edith shook her head. ‘Greta thought she’d covered all possibilities of you finding out the truth, up until then, but she must have known that, as you got older, you’d want to travel. She’d been foolish, if you ask me.’ Edith hugged the cushion tighter and exhaled. ‘Your father…’
Dolly leant forwards.
‘He was a fleeting boyfriend of your grandmother’s.’
‘What?’
‘He was dapper, charming, showered her with gifts, but eventually your grandmother found out he’d had several affairs. The day after she told him to clear off he… took advantage of Greta in the worst way.’
Lightheaded, Dolly unzipped her anorak.
‘He didn’t force her,’ Edith added quietly. ‘At that stage your gran hadn’t told Greta what a loser he was, she was too embarrassed to have another failed relationship on her hands. Greta hadn’t even known your grandmother and he were dating; she’d only been told he was a good friend. He called around to collect his things, your gran was out at work. He told Greta he was leaving to travel the world, that he’d send postcards and call for them both when he finally settled somewhere exotic. Of course, she was impressed that he was about to do what she’d always dreamed of. Then… well, you know how men can be. He told this naive sixteen-year-old that she was more beautiful than Elizabeth II, who’d just become Queen. One thing led to another and before she knew it… Greta was young. Scared. Didn’t think she could say no. So she tried to act grown up about it. Pretended it was okay.’
Dolly’s eyes filled.
Greta always had kept her distance from men. Dolly couldn’t see for tears as she recalled the holiday in York. It had been a coach trip, a mix of couples and singles, Greta would have been in her early sixties. One night there had been a dance in the hotel bar. Greta had been chatting to a man who’d eaten dinner with them, a friendly, polite sort with a great sense of humour. He asked Greta to dance and shortly after they got up, the record switched to slower music. He put his arms around her waist, all very proper, but Greta froze. The man looked confused as she pulled away, grabbed her bag and left. She told Dolly she hadn’t wanted to lead him on, as she didn’t feel the same.
