She turned to Max, who was listening, his face impassive. ‘Then I had that awful accident and Louella thought she was in the clear. I was in hospital for weeks and weeks and Louella filled in the six years I’d lost with lies, which of course I believed. But that’s all over now. I’ve remembered everything and I’m going back to Gran.’
Baz got up. ‘So that was it,’ he said softly. He turned to his father. ‘She’s been telling me bits and pieces for years, but we neither of us realised it was her memory coming back because we both believed the things Louella had told her.’ He turned back to Lottie. ‘You’ll go off in search of them? Gran and Troy? I wish to God I could come with you, but jobs is like gold dust, and I dursen’t leave mine, not even for a few days. If I knew . . .’
‘No need. I’m going with her,’ Merle said quietly. ‘I ain’t goin’ into one o’ them homes, and I bet that were one of Louella’s fancy ideas ’n’ all.’
‘It wasn’t; that’s to say I did suggest it, but everyone agreed . . .’
‘Forget it,’ Merle said. ‘It’s my life and I’ll live it the way I bleedin’ well choose. I’m goin’ to pack my gear.’ She turned and was across the hall and halfway up the stairs, with Lottie close on her heels, when behind them, in the kitchen, bedlam broke out, with Max shouting, Louella beginning to have hysterics, and Jack and Baz, from the sound of it, doing their best to calm everyone down.
In their own room, both girls snatched their belongings from drawers and cupboards and began to cram them into the holdalls they had used for their Yarmouth venture. But it was very soon obvious that this would not do. ‘Our arms will break from the weight,’ Lottie said practically, trying to heave her holdall off the floor. ‘Best just take the essentials: warm stuff, no frills.’
It was astonishing, once they had made up their minds to pack only practical garments, how quickly they were ready. Lottie packed soap, flannel, toothbrush and toothpaste, and finished off with her folded towel, then turned to her companion. ‘Ready?’ she enquired.
Merle nodded dumbly, and without more ado both girls clattered down the two flights of stairs into the hall below. They would have avoided the kitchen but the door shot open as they reached it and Lottie realised that their coats still hung on the hooks and their thick boots stood by the dresser. A quick glance round showed them that Louella was no longer in the room. Only Max, Baz and Jack stood there, all looking deeply troubled. Lottie, well aware that the three men had had nothing to do with either Merle’s predicament or her own, dumped her case on the floor and went over to Max to give him a hug. ‘I’m awful sorry you had to hear all that,’ she said in a low voice. ‘I didn’t mean to turn you against my mother but when I realised . . . when my memory came back . . . and I suppose you’d have learned the truth in the end anyway.’
‘Not from Louella he wouldn’t,’ Merle said.
Max released Lottie with a pat on the cheek. ‘It’s all right, flower; you’ve probably done me the best turn one person can do another,’ he said. ‘I’d almost made up my mind to ask Lou to marry me, which would have been the biggest mistake I’d ever made.’ He turned to Merle. ‘I wouldn’t have put you into an ordinary home, you know. I were goin’ to find a private one, ’cos when you pay down your money, I believe they really do treat you very well,’ he said.
‘I’m sorry, Uncle Max, because I’m sure you think that sending me to one of them homes is the best thing you can do, but perhaps I really am a circus girl at heart. I think I’d die in one of them places.’
‘Well, you go with your pal now, but if you change your mind and want to have the baby in some sort of nursing home, just drop me a line and I’ll see you right.’ He dug a hand into his pocket and produced a couple of notes and some silver. ‘Look, leave your cases here, take this money and go for a bit of a day out. Then come back here for tonight and tomorrow morning, first thing, we’ll all go down to the post office and I’ll draw out some of my savings. You can’t go off with scarce a penny piece to your names.’
Merle took the money gratefully, but both girls shook their heads at the notion of returning to Victoria Court. ‘We’re going now, Uncle Max. We’ve both saved a bit in our own post office accounts, but when that runs out we might get in touch,’ Merle said. ‘You agree, don’t you, Lottie?’
‘That’s right, because at the moment I feel I never want to set eyes on Louella again,’ Lottie said frankly. ‘She’s – she’s so clever, Max. She’ll try to talk me into staying; she’ll appeal to my better nature because both of us walking out means the end of the Lacey Sisters, and if she tries to remind me that she’s been a good mother to me for the past ten years . . . no, I can’t come back.’
Jack, who had been following the conversation closely, cleared his throat. ‘But it’s true, isn’t it, Lottie?’ he said gently. ‘Your mam has been good to you for the past ten years. You wanted for nothing and she’s taught you a trade, as a performer. When you wanted money for little extras, she always shelled out, even if she grumbled a bit. I know Mrs Brock helped with the cooking a couple of times, but your mam always made your favourite dishes . . . Then there was a grand cake for your birthday every year, smart new shoes, or a nice thick coat for Christmas . . .’
‘I know, Jack, but she would have done the same for anyone to keep them in the act,’ Lottie said obstinately. ‘I’ve never loved the stage, not the way Louella does, but I really did love Gran. What she must think of me . . . oh, I can’t bear to remember how I let her down!’
‘Well, don’t think too badly of your mam, queen,’ Jack said quietly. ‘She’s a gifted performer, a real trouper, and perhaps theatricals ain’t quite like other people. It’s a tough profession and maybe it’s made Louella hard, but underneath I’m sure she loves you. Can’t you forgive her and try to get in touch with this old woman without leavin’ Louella in the lurch?’
‘Don’t appeal to her better nature, Jack, because it ain’t fair,’ Baz broke in. ‘Lottie will come back one day, won’t you, chuck, same as Merle will, once she’s – she’s able. They’ve got the old woman’s name and the boy’s too, so they might find them easier to trace than you’d think. And they’ll keep in touch, won’t you, girls? You can ring the theatre from time to time and ask to speak to Max or Jack, and you can send us postcards, or even letters, so we know how you’re gettin’ along.’ Surprisingly, he put both arms round Merle, gave her a gentle squeeze, and then kissed the top of her head. ‘I’m sorry I’ve not been more help, love,’ he said gently. ‘But everything’s happened so fast. Mebbe it’s best for you and me to be parted for a while, so we can sort ourselves out.’
Merle gave a watery little giggle. ‘I do love you, Baz, but maybe you’re right and we need to go our separate ways until after the kid’s born. I’m real sorry I let you down. We’ll keep in touch.’
She bent and picked up her holdall and Lottie, following suit, saw Jack cock his head on one side and then go over and snatch their coats and hats from the hooks, gesturing to them to pick up their winter boots. ‘I just heard a thump from upstairs; I reckon Louella will be down in a couple of minutes,’ he said. ‘Better not meet whilst tempers are still a trifle frayed.’
The girls hurried down the passageway and out of the front door. Lottie was surprised into a gasp as the cold air struck her. She turned to take her coat from Jack only to find him closing the door gently and descending the three well-whitened steps. He helped Merle into her coat, handed Lottie hers and then put on his own. ‘I’m comin’ with you,’ he said, in answer to Lottie’s surprised look. ‘I’ll explain as we go.’ He looked down at the thin shoes which both girls wore. ‘Shove them silly little slipper things into your bags and put on them nice warm boots,’ he advised. ‘By Jupiter, you don’t half choose the right sort o’ weather to run away in.’
‘We aren’t running away,’ Lottie objected, as Jack began to shepherd them out of the court. ‘Neither of us are. We’re leaving because we have . . . things to do.’ By now they had reached Burlington Street and Jack took Merle’s bag from her.
‘Whilst I’m with you, I’ll carry this,’ he said. ‘And you two can each take a handle of t’other ’un. I’ve heard it said that a gal in the family way shouldn’t go heftin’ heavy stuff.’
‘It ain’t heavy at all, really, but thanks anyway, Jack,’ Merle said, as they reached Scotland Road. ‘Hey, why’s we turnin’ left? I reckoned we’d be headin’ towards the city centre.’
‘We’re going to my lodgings,’ Jack said briefly. ‘Where had you planned to go, eh? That bit of money Max gave you might buy you a room for the night, but it wouldn’t buy you food, and not one bit of them lovely scrambled eggs so much as got to the table, lerralone down your throats. I’m a bachelor, so a good deal o’ me money gets purraway for me old age, but I don’t have no truck wi’ banks. I keeps me cash hid away in an old sock, under me mattress, so I’m a-goin’ to shell out to you young ladies, secure in the knowledge that if I ever needs it I’ll gerrit back from one o’ you.’
‘It’s awfully good of you, Jack, but we can’t possibly . . .’ Lottie was beginning, but Merle elbowed her sharply in the ribs.
‘You’re a prince, Jack,’ Merle said gratefully. ‘When Baz said that about jobs bein’ like gold dust, I remembered someone sayin’ that this here is what they calls a depression and it’ll get worse, not better. The rich people at the top of the heap uses the Slump as an excuse to get rid o’ employees an’ pay the rest as little as they can get away with. Who’d have thought the Wall Street crash would have affected us? Of course we mean to work as we go, and maybe when we find Mrs Olly she’ll need us to earn our keep an’ all, so we’re real grateful for your offer and we’ll accept it gladly.’ She nudged Lottie again. ‘Ain’t that so, queen?’
Lottie, having had time to think it over, agreed fervently that it was indeed so, but refused to go inside Jack’s lodgings when he invited them. ‘The fewer people to know we’re leavin’ home, the better,’ she observed. And when Jack handed over what seemed like a substantial sum, she threw her arms round his neck, and gave him an impulsive kiss. ‘Everyone always says that theatre folk are generous, and you’ve proved it. Oh, Jack, you’re the best friend anyone could ever have, and we’ll pay you back one day, honest to God we will,’ she said breathlessly. ‘We promised to keep in touch and so we shall, but I’d better tell you that none of our letters or postcards will have our address on, or any clue to our whereabouts, because I’m afraid if Louella knew where we were, she’d come after us. I am her daughter, after all.’
‘And you’re not so very old,’ Jack pointed out. ‘But I wouldn’t give you away to your mam, you know that.’
‘I do know it, but what you don’t know you can’t reveal, even by accident,’ Lottie said, crossing her fingers behind her back. She would have liked to be able to trust Jack but thought his affection for Louella might cause him to waver, for her mother could be very persuasive. No, it was best to stick to their guns and never give an address.
For a moment, the three of them stood in silence on the pavement, surrounded by the white mist of their breath. Then Jack gave each of them a brisk hug. ‘Good luck,’ he said, before stepping back into his landlady’s hallway, and the girls set out for the nearest tram stop.
Jack’s money, still in an ancient grey sock, was shoved deep inside Lottie’s coat pocket, and its weight gave her a comfortable feeling of security. They climbed aboard the first tram to arrive, but when the conductor called, ‘Fares please!’ they looked at one another in some consternation.
‘Sunday trains aren’t like weekday ones, and I bet you ain’t certain where you mean to start this search,’ Merle muttered as the conductor approached. ‘Quick, what stop shall I say?’
‘Oh, say Lime Street,’ Lottie said quickly. ‘There’s cheap lodging houses round most stations so we’ll book into one of them for the night, but we’ll go straight to the station now and check on timetables. If you’ve no objection, I’d like to start my search at Rhyl, because that’s where I first saw Troy in real life, not in my – my memory. All right by you?’
The girls reached Rhyl at around three o’clock on Monday afternoon. It was another chilly day and they spent a considerable time touring the town and enquiring about prices, and finally went for the cheapest room available. The landlord, dark-skinned and sour-faced, told them that bed and breakfast would be half a crown. ‘But we don’t want breakfast,’ Lottie said quickly, seeing a chance to save some money. ‘How much for just the room?’
‘I telled you: half a crown,’ the man said, glaring at them. After a moment’s thought he added: ‘Each.’
Lottie would have said nothing, but Merle gave a bitter laugh and half turned away. ‘You’ll say leg in a minute,’ she remarked. ‘Half a crown a leg.’
Lottie giggled, getting ready to run, but greatly to her surprise the man gave a reluctant grin. ‘You ain’t as green as you’re cabbage-lookin’,’ he remarked. ‘All right, half a crown for the room. It ain’t much and there’s only the one bed, but it’ll be big enough for a couple of skinny kids, I dare say. And now you’d best come in and take a look at it. How long d’you mean to stay? Is it just the one night?’
‘We don’t know,’ Lottie said truthfully. ‘I’m searching for my gran and my cousin Troy. If we find them quickly, we may only be here the one night; it depends.’
They had been following the man up two flights of rickety stairs as they talked, and now he flung open a small door and revealed their room. Needless to say, since they were in the attic, the ceiling sloped so sharply that even Lottie could not stand upright, but had to bend her head. The room contained little apart from an ancient brass bedstead, a rickety chest of drawers and a washstand, but to Lottie’s surprise the bedding, though worn and patched, was clean, and the floorboards showed no trace of dust.