The Library of Lost and Found(77)

Will’s and Rose’s eyes widened and slid over toward Zelda. She sat in the bus shelter, twirling her thumbs.

“Zelda is our…what?” Will said.

“Why didn’t you tell us, Auntie Martha?” Rose asked.

Martha opened her mouth to speak but Lilian got there first. “I told you I didn’t want her near them.”

“Why not?” Will asked. “She’s good fun. She made Auntie Martha read in the middle of the football pitch. We painted a dragon’s head, and Zelda read for everyone on the promenade.”

Lilian’s eyes hardened. “Thank you very much, Martha, for defying me.”

“I didn’t mean to. I couldn’t think of another way. I’m really sorry—”

Her sister turned away. “Wait for me outside Chichetti’s,” she ordered Will and Rose over her shoulder. “I’ll get the car.”

The kids trudged away, each casting Martha a rueful smile.

“Please come and meet her, Lilian. There’s so much for us to talk about,” Martha pleaded. “We both thought she was dead.”

“It might be better if she was.”

Martha felt anger flare in her chest. She took hold of her sister’s arm. “How can you say that? Mum and Dad are gone, but she’s still here. She’s the only relative we have left. She tried to come back into our lives, Lilian, but Mum and Dad wouldn’t let her.”

Lilian spun back. “You have no idea the amount of trouble that woman caused. It was better she left, no matter how it happened.”

“We loved her. Mum loved her. I don’t know why our parents lied to us. They told us she was dead, but it wasn’t her fault. Dad probably caused all this…”

“Don’t ever speak about him like that,” Lilian hissed.

“He ruled our lives. You managed to escape. We can’t blame Nana for doing the same.”

“Dad might have been set in his ways, but he always did his best for us.”

“Everything had to be his way. I know, Lilian. I looked after him for years, on my own.”

“That’s not my fault.”

“Yes, but you could have helped more.” Martha was entering a conversation that she didn’t want to have. Words of frustration she’d held inside for years were beginning to boil and spill out. “You met Paul, but I gave up Joe, to be there for them. I gave up my own chance of happiness. I lost my identity and Zelda has helped me to find it again.”

“You have no right, speaking like that.”

Martha kept her arms ramrod straight by her sides. “I have every right. I’m the one who cooked and cleaned for Mum and Dad. I made their breakfast every morning and put them to bed every night.”

Lilian’s cheeks glowed scarlet. “You think you’re a saint, Martha. A real do-gooder. Well, there’s one thing you should know, before you try and write a happy story with Zelda as your heroine.”

Martha jutted her chin. “Go on then. What is it?”

The two women stood with their faces close together, almost nose to nose. Martha could feel her sister’s breath, hot on her cheeks.

Lilian glanced quickly at Zelda, then away again. “I—”

“Go on,” Martha said. “Tell me, Lilian. Then I need to make sure that our grandmother is okay. I’ll take her back to the house where I cared for our parents, for fifteen years—”

“Oh, stop with the dramatics, Martha.” Lilian’s top lip curled. “Thomas Storm wasn’t even your real bloody father.”

Martha froze. Everything seemed to stop around her. Sounds and people were wiped away. “What?” She frowned. “What did you say?”

“You heard me.” Lilian held her coat tight to her neck and couldn’t meet Martha’s eyes. “Thomas Storm wasn’t your real dad.”





31


Party





Betty, 1982


Betty set the table for her and Thomas’s anniversary party using an old tea service that once belonged to Eleanor. The saucers were adorned with fussy pink flowers and the cup handles were too small. They weren’t to Betty’s taste. However, Thomas was proud of the set. It had been a wedding present from his parents.

“They’ve been happily married for over fifty years,” he announced proudly, as he watched Betty straighten a cup. “Let’s hope we make it to a half century, too.”

Betty found a small smile.

Even though her own mother was coming to the party, she would be glad when the evening was over.



* * *



Thomas had brought home an anniversary cake. It had fuchsia-pink icing and was studded with white flowers. If Zelda had bought it, he would have declared it tacky. However, because he’d selected it, he said it was exquisite. “Don’t scrimp,” he said when he gave her a roll of ten-pound notes to buy food.

When Betty handled the money, she felt quite giddy at having so much to spend, for once. She bought the most expensive cheddar from the grocer’s shop and salmon from the fishmongers.

Now she placed lettuce, tomatoes and cucumber in a bowl and sprinkled them with cress. She made sausages and pineapple on sticks, and homemade sausage rolls. When Thomas said his mother preferred the tomatoes cut into eight rather than four pieces, Betty fished them back out of the salad bowl and did as he asked.