“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you all very much.” She glanced down at the paper in her hands. There was nothing to leave behind this time. She looked up at Martha, her eyes and hands empty.
“It’s okay. You’ve done it,” Martha assured her. “We have new stories now.”
Zelda’s hands shook as she folded up the paper.
“You were brilliant.” Rose bent down and bumped the top of Zelda’s arm with her own.
“Pretty damn good,” Will admitted.
Zelda found a smile. “Yes. I was, wasn’t I?” She put the story in her pocket.
“Well done, Zelda.” Owen said. “Perhaps you’d like to do a reading at Chamberlain’s sometime?”
Zelda broke into a gap-toothed grin. “That sounds ah-mazing.”
“Great,” Owen said. “Well, I’ll head back to the shop now. Thanks for inviting me, and I’ll see you for that coffee soon, Martha.”
Martha smiled. “I’m paying this time, though.”
“Okay. I won’t argue.”
Zelda staggered a little to the side, then caught her balance. “I enjoyed that, but I need a bloody sit-down before the arcades.”
Martha caught her arm. “Come on, then. You’ve done far too much this weekend and I don’t want to be in trouble with Gina. Maybe we’ll give the arcades a miss.” She led her nana to a bench in a bus shelter.
“Perhaps you’re right.” Zelda sighed.
Martha’s mouth dropped open. “You actually agreed with me for once.”
“I know. I’m not all bad.” Zelda winked.
Martha watched as the flow of people on the promenade resumed. Nora spotted her and waved. The boy with the bike rode it away.
But one person stood still, watching. Her blond hair danced in the breeze above the collar of her cream mohair jacket. Her eyes were pink-rimmed but set hard.
Zelda tugged on Martha’s sleeve. “That woman is really staring at us. Do you know who she is?”
“Oh no,” Will said with a groan. “It’s Mum.”
30
Father
Lilian marched toward Martha, her coat flapping open. She clutched her handbag under her arm and her lips were puckered.
Martha tried to find a smile but could see from Lilian’s set jaw that she wasn’t going to win one in return. Her feelings of positivity and happiness ebbed away.
“Hi, Mum,” Rose said quietly.
Lilian came to a halt. She stared at Zelda before focusing her attention on Martha. “What’s going on?” she asked Will and Rose. “You were surrounded by people on the promenade.”
Martha inched forward. “We came over here for a day out.” She glanced at Zelda and silently urged her to stay put.
“Zelda wanted to read a story to everyone. That’s all.” Rose gave a small shrug.
Lilian’s nostrils flared. She glared at Martha. “Zelda?”
“I couldn’t change my arrangements.” Martha stepped forward. “You wanted to talk to Paul, and I wanted to see Nana. I told Will and Rose she’s a family friend. Nothing else.”
Lilian balled her hands into fists. “I warned you,” she said. “You should have left that stupid old book alone. I said I didn’t want the kids to meet her.”
Martha’s stomach turned over with guilt. “I’m sorry, but Zelda told me the story behind the book.”
“About why she left?”
“No. She’ll tell me in her own time, though.”
“I don’t think so. She’s hidden it for so long.”
People began to slow down around them, listening in. A middle-aged couple, who wore matching red anoraks and hiking boots, pretended to look at something on a phone, while their eyes were really trained on Lilian and Martha.
Martha bit inside her mouth. “You know something, don’t you?” she said.
Lilian looked away. “It’s up to her to tell you, not me.”
“But how can she, when you won’t meet her? Let’s both speak to her now.”
Lilian glared over at Zelda. “That’s her, isn’t it?”
Martha gave a small nod.
Will sidled up. “You okay, Mum?”
“Fine,” she said sharply. “You and Rose, get your things, now. I’m taking you home.”
“Our bags are still at Auntie Martha’s house...”
“What’s wrong, Mum?” Rose asked.
“This is what’s wrong.” Lilian pointed at Will and then Rose. “I expected Martha to look after you both, not bring you here with your crazy great-grandmother.”
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.”