Page 61 of Lost Luggage
‘Your gran blamed herself. Greta didn’t even know she was pregnant until she was far gone. She honestly believed this man would stand by her – he was back in town by then, setting up in the hotel business – but he dismissed her as if she were a delusional child. She didn’t have it out with him until he came into her place of work, a couple of years later. He laughed at Greta. Told her she would never amount to anything.’
‘Bastard.’
‘Quite. But there was never any question of you not remaining part of the family.’ She sucked in her cheeks. ‘It may sound odd but I felt jealous of Greta.’
‘How so?’
Edith put the cushion behind her back once more and sat upright. ‘Because I’ve never known a love like Greta’s for you. As soon as she clapped eyes on you her heart was lost – her words.’ Edith raised her hands. ‘No doubt about it, she wanted you to know the truth, but your gran had made her promise never to tell you. Then, over the years, I think the secret loomed bigger and bigger. She knew how much you loved Fred and didn’t know how she was going to face seeing you day in, day out, at work, at home, knowing that she was the one who had sent him running.’
‘She really told you all of this?’
Edith explained how it had all spilled out, jumbled, in between sobs; she’d had to force Greta to slow down. Afterwards Edith made them cups of tea. As it so often did, Greta’s favourite drink restored her spirits – and resolve. She apologised for the fuss and asked Edith never to speak of her secret to anyone. During the weeks that followed Greta pretended their chat hadn’t happened and would ignore Edith at church meetings. Their relationship gradually returned to its former frostiness.
‘But, in the end, you were the best sort of friend,’ Dolly whispered.
‘Greta chose to call you Dorothy,’ said Edith as they both got to their feet, her voice sounding scratchy, ‘because she liked the nickname, the idea of looking after adollyfor real. It shows what a child she was when you were born. That man deserved to be flogged.’
Dolly leant against the hallway wall for a moment, whilst Edith unbolted the door.
‘Right, be off with you, now,’ she said in her familiar brisk tone. ‘I need my sleep, even if you don’t.’
As Dolly walked down the driveway, Edith called after her.
‘Greta may have wanted to travel the world, but you were her whole universe.’
39
The hot cross bun dough was left to rise.
‘Sorry we were late,’ said Fred, as they all settled in the lounge, smelling as if they’d shared a bottle of cinnamon perfume. Leroy had suggested playing cards and half-heartedly Flo was choosing a game, no doubt missing Anushka who couldn’t come as her family had planned a visit to relatives in Birmingham.
Phoebe squeezed his arm, sitting at his feet by the armchair. ‘It’s the anniversary of Gran’s death today. Five years. We came straight from the crematorium.’
‘Sympathies,’ said Leroy. ‘I still can’t believe Mum’s gone after nine years.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ said Dolly. ‘I hope you didn’t feel obliged to bake tonight.’
‘Angela wasn’t one for moping,’ said Fred. ‘She’d be looking down crossly if I’d stayed at home.’
Was Greta looking down too? Willing Dolly to understand? The young couple who’d viewed the house today loved the conservatory, said it would make the perfect playroom for their imminent baby. The estate agent said Pingate Loop was highlydesirable. Greta would have said that word was far too sexy to describe their cosy home. Yet sex sells and a couple of hours later the couple put in an offer.
Dolly sat on the sofa, next to Leroy, Flo kneeling on the floor, mechanically shuffling the cards. She caught Dolly’s eye and let them fall on to the carpet. ‘Dad said I mustn’t be nosy, you’d tell us in your own time, but why are you moving? You’re one of my best friends.’ Her voice caught. ‘I don’t want you to go.’
‘Why don’t we talk about that later,’ said Leroy swiftly. ‘I haven’t played Pontoon for ages. How about I deal?’
‘It’s okay,’ said Dolly and she held out her hand. Leroy moved up and Flo slouched next to her on the sofa. This little girl wasn’t so little any more, making practical plans regarding university funds and being keen to earn.
‘I found out, love… Greta wasn’t my sister. She was my mum.’
Flo didn’t say a word. A lawn mower sounded from outside. ‘That can’t be right,’ she said eventually. ‘How? When? Why did she need to pretend?’
‘She had me very young. Back then people wouldn’t have approved. It’s… been a shock, as if my life here, with her, was a charade.’
Flo wrapped her arm around Dolly’s waist and squeezed. ‘Greta loved you, whatever,’ she mumbled.
Dolly buried her face in Flo’s hair, breathing in the coconut scent whilst she gathered herself. ‘There’s something else. I went to Edith’s last night.’ Flo sat up again. ‘My dad was much older than Greta and… let her down on so many levels.’ Her middle clenched even though Flo had stopped squeezing. ‘What does it say for my family, that we couldn’t be honest with one another over something so significant?’
Fred ran a hand over his head. ‘They were honest with their feelings though. The way Greta cared, how protective she was, the gifts she bought you, the advice she gave you at work. Seeing you both together gave me my first real inkling of the relationships I’d missed out on. No one had been by my side since the year dot whereas you had two people who never left.’ He fiddled with his watchstrap. ‘Not that I want to paint my past as a black canvas. There were streaks of colour. Other unwanted children became my people and over the years new friends filled the gap. Eventually I met Angela and Phoebe, and for the first time since you and I parted, I was blessed with a sense of belonging. We weren’t – aren’t – blood-related but that’s never mattered.’
