Seconds later we both said farewell to Bert and Dorothy and strolled back through the courtyard.
‘What was that all about?’ I asked again, completely and utterly mortified at what had just happened inside The Old Teashop.
Grace quirked an eyebrow.
‘And why did she apologise to me?’ I added, feeling baffled.
‘A long story, and that’s village life for you. People never forget.’
‘What do you mean? Hang on … you’ll have to hold that story right there, that’s my phone ringing,’ I said, quickly rummaging through my bag. I glanced at the screen, ‘It’s Ben.’
‘Back in the country for two minutes and he has your mobile number,’ she gave me a teasing look.
‘Sshh! Hi, Ben!’ I answered, as we turned on to High Street.
Grace was trying to earwig in on the conversation but stopped as soon as she saw the puzzled look fleet across my face. ‘Yes, I can come now.’
‘What was all that about?’ asked Grace, the second I hung up. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘I’m not entirely sure but he’s asked if I can nip over to the farm now.’
‘Do you want me to come with you?’ asked Grace.
I shook my head, ‘No, I won’t be long. I’ll see you back at the cottage.’
‘Okay, if you’re sure.’
‘What were you just about to tell me about Sam?’
‘Don’t worry, that’ll keep for later.’
I nodded and began walking towards Honeysuckle Farm. As I sauntered up the drive towards the farmhouse, the familiar smells were wonderful. The underlying aroma of the cows, the straw from the stable and the burning of rubbish in the bottom field. I felt a bubble of happiness rise in my chest every time I was here, but thoughts of Mum were never far from my mind. How could she give all this up?
I felt at home here, and right now, this second, my heart was telling me that Brook Bridge was where I needed to be, but I knew that choice was going to have devastating consequences for my mum.
In the shrubs, the chickens were pecking around and the cockerel puffed out his plumage before letting out a throaty crow. The barn doors were thrown wide open and Billy was in his stable gnawing at the hay bag. After giving him a quick pat, I glanced around and spotted Ben whistling to himself up the top of a ladder while painting the guttering.
‘Hi,’ I called, and Ben spun round. He was dressed in overalls which were tied around his waist by the sleeves, and his T-shirt was splattered with speckles of paint. A smile crept across his face and he began to climb down.
‘Perfect timing, I was due a break.’ He slipped a hand on the small of my back. ‘You look nice.’
Today, I’d chosen an ordinary outfit: denim jeans, a pale-blue T-shirt and my tatty old grey pumps. ‘Thanks.’
‘So, what’s all this about?’ I asked with intrigue.
Ben took off his gloves and placed them over a rung of the ladder.
‘Over there,’ he nodded towards the brick wall that ran around Grandie’s sun garden. ‘There’s another building behind that wall.’
My eyes darted over to where Ben was pointing.
‘No, there can’t be.’
‘Honestly, I was up the ladder and spotted it.’
‘That wall separates the farmhouse from the annexe. There can’t possibly be another building anywhere there,’ I said, puzzled. ‘You’ve probably mistaken the roof of the annexe or something.’
‘Seriously, there’s something there. Here,’ he held the ladder steady, ‘climb up and see for yourself.’
I smiled at Ben wanly and shuffled restlessly before I stepped on to the bottom rung.
‘Keep calm, Alice,’ I said to myself, knowing I wasn’t at all keen on heights.
‘Don’t let go of that ladder,’ I instructed in a firm tone as I looked up towards the sky.
‘Don’t worry, I’ve got you.’
Putting one foot above the other, my heart was in my mouth as I began to climb.
‘Stop around there,’ I heard Ben call up.
Holding on for dear life, my knuckles were white as I carefully swung my head round. ‘Whoa! That view, it’s amazing.’
‘I never tire of that view,’ Ben laughed. I wasn’t sure whether he meant the view over the valley or the fact that he was looking straight at my backside.
‘Now look towards the wall.’
Shaking my head in disbelief, I saw that Ben was right. There was some sort of roof draped in overgrown ivy and what looked like a small courtyard.
‘I don’t believe it. There’s definitely something there,’ I said, staring for a moment before lowering myself down slowly and gratefully, planting my feet firmly back on the ground.
‘Connie and Jim must know something about it,’ I said. ‘Is Jim around?’
Ben shook his head, ‘Market day, won’t be back until 6 p.m.’
‘Whatever it is, it’s certainly well hidden.’
Ben raised an interested eyebrow, ‘A secret room, very mysterious and exciting. What’s the plan of action?’
‘Find the way in,’ I said without hesitation.
‘I’ll start this end, you start over there,’ suggested Ben and immediately the pair of us set to work, trailing the length of the wall, thrusting our hands behind the entwined ivy, searching for a way in.
‘It’s just stone here,’ I said, disappointed, tapping at the wall.
‘Keep moving along, there has to be a way in somewhere,’ reassured Ben with an encouraging smile.
For the next five minutes, we carried on prodding behind the shrubbery until I heard Ben shout from a little further up, ‘Here, over here, this part isn’t brick, it’s wood.’
I looked over with a sharp intake of breath and the skin on the back of my neck prickled.
‘There’s definitely something here … come and feel.’ Ben’s voice had risen by a thrilled octave.
My heart was thumping as I arrived at his side. He tugged at the ivy, ripping it straight off the wall to create a small opening.
‘Yes, you’re right,’ I breathed excitedly, feeling the wood, ‘and that’s definitely a handle of some sort.’
‘Go to the far barn, there’s a pair of shears hanging on the wall. Let’s get this cut back, see what’s behind,’ he ordered, still ripping away at the overgrown plant with his hands.
My heart raced as my legs powered towards the barn and I yanked the shears from the wall.
‘Here,’ I said, panting, a little out of breath, thrusting the shears into Ben’s hands. He began to snip back the trailing plant. I watched in amazement, cupping my hands around my face as the wooden door became visible.
‘What is this place?’
‘I’m not sure, but we are about to find out.’
Ben cleared away all of the ivy and we stood and stared at the peeling duck-egg-blue painted wooden door with a huge, tarnished brass knob.
‘After you.’
My heart was hammering against my chest as I took a huge deep breath and grasped the knob with my unsteady hand.
Nothing.
It was locked.
Damn.
We stared at the lock beneath the knob.
‘Well, that’s that then, it’s locked. Looks like the mystery is going to stay just that, a mystery, unless you’ve learnt how to pick locks while living in New York?’
I shook my head, ‘Unfortunately that was never on my list of things to do.’
I sighed, my mind whirling. I didn’t want to be beaten now.
‘I’d say that was quite a big key too, not your run-of-the-mill mortice lock,’ said Ben.
Once more I grasped the knob and bumped my shoulder against the door. ‘Not quite as easy as it looks in the movies,’ I sighed. The door didn’t budge an inch.
‘You’ll hurt your shoulder if you carry on like that,’ said Ben. ‘Why don’t you just ask your grandfather about it? Ask him for the key.’
‘Key … that’s it, you are a genius,’ I beamed. He looked at me with bewilderment as I began to frantically rummage around in my bag which I’d thrown to the ground earlier.
My hands were visibly shaking as I held up a bunch of keys. ‘It’s got to be this one. I’d no idea where it was for.’
We both stared at it, then the lock.
‘It definitely looks like it would fit. Come on, what are you waiting for?’ asked Ben impatiently.
Feeling apprehensive, my heart was thumping and my breath caught in my throat as I placed the key in the lock and turned it.
Click.
Both Ben and I locked eyes before I turned the knob and pushed.
‘OMG,’ I muttered under my breath as we walked in. I shot Ben a quizzical look. ‘What is this place?’
The air was dusty and it smelled damp.
He simply shrugged.
As I edged forward slowly, my eyes widened. It looked like some sort of office-come-dance-studio, which was enclosed inside a small walled garden. The huge, smeared, dirty windows at the far end let in a little light and there was another wooden door leading into a very small courtyard.
In the corner was a small desk with numerous papers stacked in a pile, adorned with dust. A pair of abandoned spectacles lay on top. A ballet barre ran along the far side of the office with mirrors from floor to ceiling, and hanging on the wall were numerous framed photos of ballerinas alongside some very famous ballet production posters.
‘There’s everything here from The Nutcracker to A Midsummer Night’s Dream,’ I said in awe, staring at the posters.
On the small wooden table in the corner of the room sat an old-fashioned tape recorder. I blew away the dust from the top of the black machine then opened the cassette compartment.
‘Gosh, they used these things back in the days of the dinosaurs,’ I said with amazement, taking out the cassette tape and flipping it over.
‘Plug it in, see if it still works.’ Ben placed the tape recorder on top of the desk, and switched on the socket.
‘There’s a red light on it,’ I exclaimed, hurriedly stuffing the tape back inside the player. ‘It’s working.’
As I pressed play we waited in anticipation. There was a click followed by a whir and I gasped as the truly timeless classic, The Nutcracker composed by Tchaikovsky, began to fill the room.
The music brought back memories and immediately, happy tears filled my eyes. It was such an emotional piece of music and I remembered one Christmas, curling up under a blanket on the settee with Grandie in front of the roaring log fire. We watched the ballet on an old video cassette. I’d been mesmerised, it was pure magic.
Lost in my memories, I sat down on the old dusty chair, closed my eyes and let the music envelop me.
‘It’s so beautiful,’ I said, my body lifting as though it were being controlled by some invisible force. All of a sudden, I found myself standing in the small cramped space in the middle of the room.
I balanced on one leg and stretched the other leg out behind. Holding my back upright, I gracefully reached both arms out in front. For a split second, I let the music take over, a feeling of floating on air captivated my whole body. Turning myself elegantly in tune with the music, my arms and legs began to glide and spin. Everything was in sync, even my breathing, but as I spun I locked eyes with Ben and halted.
‘Don’t stop … don’t stop!’ urged Ben. ‘That was amazing! Absolutely amazing.’ Ben’s praise was coming thick and fast.
I could feel myself breathing in and out, my chest rising and falling.
‘More … more,’ he said in a playful chant. ‘That was breath-taking. You, Alice Parker, were born to dance.’
‘I can’t,’ I said, suddenly feeling inadequate. I thought back to all those rejection letters and emails. My shoulders drooped and I slumped into the chair.
‘I don’t understand, what do you mean, you can’t?’
He balanced on the edge of the desk and waited for me to speak.
‘Are you okay?’ A worried look was now written all over Ben’s face.
I wanted to open up to Ben, he was one of my oldest friends in the village.
‘It’s just … for a split second, I felt like the old me again.’ I sighed.
‘What do you mean, the old you?’
‘I’m not quite what I seem,’ I admitted, pressing the stop button on the tape machine and switching the socket off at the wall. ‘I feel like a phoney.’
Ben looked puzzled.
A little sheepishly I revealed the truth to him about my life in New York and the fact that I’d never made it as a dancer or even performed on Broadway.
He blew out a breath, ran his hands through his hair and gave a low whistle. ‘I wasn’t expecting that.’
‘People always seem to assume I’m something I’m not, and I wish I was that person, I really do, but … I’ve never made it past the audition stage. I’ve never been good enough to land a role that was of any significance. Everyone else is of a higher standard, or their face fits. I stopped attending auditions because I couldn’t face another rejection letter landing on the doormat.’
‘You’ve got a skill, a gift you should be proud of. Have you ever asked for feedback? Asked for help?’
I shook my head. ‘Grace is trying to talk me into going for an audition with her next week but, how can I? I’ve messed up every audition so far. Why would this one be any different?’ I sighed.
‘That would mean you’d be here for a while. I thought you were only here for a holiday?’
‘I was … I am … but those questions I was asking you, about business, working for the family … I was asking because Grandie has offered me the dance school.’
Ben’s face flashed with excitement. ‘What an amazing offer!’
‘Mmm, it is and it isn’t. I live on the other side of the world and so does Mum,’ I answered, wanting to join in with his enthusiasm.
‘But if you don’t give it a go?’
‘But what if I fail? What if I can’t teach dance?’ I said, hearing the frustration in my own voice.
A slight smile spread across his face. ‘I’m not good at this type of stuff, me being a builder, but as my gran used to say, always believe in yourself. Things happen for a reason. It will work itself out. It always does.’
Silently, we walked over towards the windows at the back of the room.
‘Have you seen out here?’ he asked, changing the subject.
There was a small tranquil courtyard with two wrought-iron chairs and a table. A purple-and-blue flowering climber clambered over the wall while the ivy toppled over from the other side. Even now, there was a burst of colour in this little hidden space.
I caught Ben’s eye. ‘Do you think this was Grandie’s office?’
‘It appears that way, maybe he ran the dance school from here and used this space to choreograph routines or something.’
As Ben was talking, I turned around and my eyes flickered towards a rusty old filing cabinet in the corner of the room. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to take a sneaky peek inside there. Pulling open the drawer, I shuffled through some of the papers.
‘This paperwork goes back years. There’s still invoices in here from way back for every student that danced at the school … and accounts too. Why would all this stuff still be here after all this time and why let this place get so overgrown that it becomes hidden?’
‘Who knows?’ Ben spun another glance around the place.
‘It’s an absolute mystery,’ I said, perching on the dusty chair and rifling through an old newspaper that was stuffed in the back of the drawer. ‘It just seems such a shame. Maybe when the dance school closed down that was it, he just turned his back and shut the door.’
I sat down at the desk and began to thumb through the ancient newspaper. My eyes locked on the headline on page five which was boldly staring back at me. My heartbeat quickened, promptly followed by a queasy feeling which swirled in the pit of my stomach.
I bit down on my lip and could feel myself beginning to tremble, my eyes filling with tears.
‘Alice, are you okay? What’s wrong?’
Ben looked towards me and waited for me to answer.
I turned the paper towards him.
‘Dancer killed on opening night,’ Ben read out loud.
‘My grandma, according to this,’ my voice faltered.
A tear slid down my cheek as I read the story in the paper:
Oscar Bennett has been convicted for his part in a conspiracy to commit burglaries and robberies across the West Midlands and cause death by dangerous driving.
At Stafford Crown Court on Wednesday (June 3rd) it was revealed that the men were involved in stealing prestige vehicles and using them to commit a string of violent crimes.
On the night of May 6th the court heard that Oscar Bennett had stolen a car and lost control of the vehicle, mounting the pavement and instantly killing Ballerina Florrie Rose Grant on the opening night of The Nutcracker at the Birmingham Hippodrome, Birmingham. Florrie Grant was married to dancer Ted Grant, leaving behind one daughter, Rose. The married duo, who both danced The Nutcracker in the very same theatre over twenty-five years ago, were attending as guests of honour.
Oscar Bennett was found guilty and sentenced to ten years in prison.
‘It was a dreadful tragedy,’ Ben offered in a sympathetic tone. ‘My own grandma told me the story, I can’t remember why it came up in conversation but she said it affected so many people in this village.’
Through my blurred eyes I looked up at him. ‘What, you knew?’ The knots in my stomach took my breath away.
He solemnly nodded. ‘Everyone in Brook Bridge knows. Your grandma is truly missed in this village. Ted and Florrie were the heart of this community. I take it you didn’t know?’
But Ben replied to himself before I could draw breath, ‘By the look on your face you didn’t have a clue.’
‘No, I didn’t know.’ My voice was shaky.
I was distraught, the tears flowing freely. This was tragic. Why did no one think to tell me? Distressed didn’t come close to the way I was feeling. Crushed to the core, I re-read the article. Poor Grandie, poor Mum. Florrie ripped from their lives by a senseless crime.
Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I said, ‘I didn’t know a thing, all I knew was that she died before I was born, and I suppose when I was old enough to ask questions, I couldn’t because we’d left, and Mum never spoke about either Grandie or Grandma again.’
‘Here, take this,’ he said, passing me a tissue from his pocket, ‘It must have come as shock to find out this way.’
I managed a nod and let out a long breath, my blurry eyes still staring at the newspaper article. That day must have shattered Mum and Grandie’s entire world.
‘What am I going to do now?’
‘How do you mean?’ Ben’s sympathetic eyes fixed firmly on me.
‘Things are strained with Mum as it is. Can I really go telling her what I’ve discovered and ask questions?’ The photograph of my grandma on the newspaper page was staring back at me, the resemblance between the pair of us was striking. I’d never really noticed from the painting that hung in the gallery at the farmhouse, but this was uncanny.
‘Surely it’s no big secret? It’s in the paper.’
I shrugged. ‘A paper from years ago, one that I shouldn’t have seen. If we hadn’t broken in here, then I would never have found out.’
‘But everyone in the village knows about your grandma’s tragic death, it’s not a secret. Talk to Grace and Connie about it, they might presume you already knew.’
It had never even crossed my mind that Connie would know, but of course she would. Not only was she Mum’s best friend at the time, she also worked for my grandfather.
‘I just find it strange that it would never be talked about.’ I’d no idea why, but the gut feeling in the pit of my stomach was telling me there was more to this story. I looked up at Ben through my teary eyes. ‘Do you think that’s why he stopped dancing, stopped performing and just ran the dance school?’
‘Maybe,’ he shrugged his shoulders.
I read through the article one more time and swallowed. Grandma’s life had been taken away from her by a common criminal. Her life over in a split second.
This surely must have brought Grandie and Mum closer together. I knew it did. We’d lived here for ten years until that night, when that dreadful argument spiralled out of control and Mum packed our things and left.
Sitting there in the office, I felt saddened by the tragedy of my grandmother’s death. Why had no one ever told me what had happened? I’d never really given it much thought before, I’d just thought … in fact, I had no idea what I thought.
‘Come on, we need to get out of here before Jim catches us or Connie arrives home,’ I spluttered, suddenly feeling uneasy that I’d gone rifling through Grandie’s personal hideaway without permission.
‘And you’d best get back to work. Ben … please can you keep all this to yourself until I’ve had a chance to chat with Connie and Grandie?’
‘Of course,’ he answered.
Within seconds the room was locked, and Ben had returned to work. I tripped numbly along the lane back towards Wild Rose Cottage with thoughts of the past playing over and over in my mind. Reaching the end of the road and with my mind somewhere else, I stumbled on the edge of the kerb, lost my balance and fell to the ground with a bump.
‘Are you okay?’ The voice behind me sounded concerned and I looked up to find the gorgeous eyes of Sam staring back at me. He extended a hand to me, pulling me to my feet, my face dangerously close to his.
‘I think so,’ I said, my eyes not leaving his. My heart was beating so loud I thought he might hear. ‘I must have tripped, I wasn’t looking where I was going,’ I said, brushing myself down. I’d no idea where he’d sprung from. ‘What are you doing here?’
Sam smiled down at his attire.
‘Jogging,’ I answered my own question, my eyes skimming over his body which was dressed in trendy sports gear. He had that toned, lean thing going on which gave me tingles in my tummy.
‘Where are you going?’ he asked.
My eyes lifted back towards his and I held my breath, praying he couldn’t read my mind. I thought he was perfect. ‘Home,’ I managed to say, then sucked in a sharp breath.
Feeling a pain in my knee, I looked down to see the trickle of blood seeping through the ripped knee of my jeans.
‘You’re bleeding. Here, sit yourself down on this bench, catch your breath,’ Sam insisted. He extended his arm and draped it around my shoulder while supporting my elbow with his hand. His hazel eyes bore into mine and I could feel my entire body trembling.
‘Honestly, I’m okay,’ I answered, even though my knee was smarting. ‘I should have been looking where I was going.’
‘Things on your mind?’
‘You could say that.’
Sam bent down in front of me, the pain now coming through in short, sharp bursts. He slowly rolled up my trouser leg then reached over and squeezed my hand, giving me a reassuring smile. ‘I think you’ll live but you’ll need to bathe that, get the grit out. Are you able to walk or is it piggy-back time?’ he said, giving me an amused look, the trace of a smile playing on his lips.
He was definitely flirting a little.
‘Piggy-back every time,’ I mused, biting down on my lip as I imagined myself being hauled on to Sam’s back with my arms tightly wrapped around his broad shoulders.
He flashed me the most gorgeous of smiles that made my heart skip a beat, then held out his hand. I pressed mine into his, he steadied me and we began to slowly walk up the lane.
‘Thanks Sam, I feel a bit of an idiot.’
‘No need, just one of those things,’ he said, still smiling, as he raked his other hand through his hair.
‘And I’ve delayed your run.’
‘Any excuse to help a pretty damsel in distress.’ His eyes caught mine and I glowed inside. Surely, he could feel the attraction between us too.
‘How long are you staying in England?’ he probed.
I was just about to answer when we heard the sound of a van slowing down beside us. Turning round, we saw Bert leaning over and winding down the passenger window.
‘What’s going on here?’ he puffed, eyeing me astutely, his manner rather abrupt, taking me by surprise.
‘I’ve tumbled over the kerb, and Sam is helping me home.’
‘I’ll take it from here.’ Bert’s tone was very direct and what-was-that-look he gave Sam?
For a moment, a heavy silence settled over us, the tension uneasy.
It was obvious to anyone that there was some sort of friction between the pair of them and with me rushing off to the farm earlier, Grace hadn’t had time to tell me about the situation that I’d witnessed in The Old Teashop this morning.
‘Honestly Bert, I’m fine, Sam’s going to walk me back to the cottage,’ I said, not wanting to be dictated to. ‘We can manage.’
Bert shot a glance towards my leg. He wasn’t taking no for an answer. ‘I’ll take you up to the farm, that’s closer. Connie’s just arrived home with your grandfather … jump in.’ Bert locked eyes with Sam who shifted uncomfortably and slowly dropped my hand.
I was feeling a little annoyed at Bert’s insistence but the moment I’d discovered Grandie was out of hospital, I knew I needed to see him.
‘You go,’ Sam insisted, not making eye contact with me.
‘Are you sure?’ I asked.
His face had paled and the closeness that had been there between us earlier had suddenly vanished.
‘Yes, you go, it’s for the best,’ he said and, taking me completely by surprise, he turned and powered his legs and began jogging up the lane, leaving me standing there.
What did he mean, it was for the best? One minute he was walking hand in hand with me, mildly flirting, and next he can’t get away from me fast enough.
Feeling frustrated, I climbed into Bert’s van. What the hell just happened here?
Bert was silent as he put the car in gear and began to drive. ‘Bert, I have to say I’m rather taken by surprise. That all seemed less than friendly to me.’
‘You need to stay away from his sort.’ Bert didn’t look in my direction as he swung the van into the driveway of Honeysuckle Farm.
‘His sort?’
‘Yes, his sort. Speak to my Dorothy. She’ll tell you all about it.’
Before I could ask any more questions, Bert had parked the van and the door swung open. I looked up to see Ben standing there. ‘Great timing, looks like your grandfather is home!’ he beamed and tipped his cap at Bert.
‘Great news!’ I sounded more cheery than I felt.
As I began to climb out of the car I felt Bert’s hand on top of mine. ‘Talk to Dorothy.’
Utterly confused, I let myself into the farmhouse where I was greeted by Marley.
‘Connie, Grandie, are you here?’ I shouted up the hallway. Within seconds Connie appeared in the doorway of the kitchen wiping her hands on a tea-towel. Immediately she noticed my ripped, blood-stained jeans which I’d almost forgotten about in the last five minutes.
‘Oh gosh, what have you done?’ she fussed, ushering me to a chair in the kitchen before running some warm water in a bowl.
‘I slipped off the kerb, it looks worse than it is … ouch,’ I blurted as Connie began dabbing away the small stones that were wedged in the cut with a cotton-wool pad from the drawer.
‘Where’s Grandie? Is he home?’
‘He is.’ She stopped dabbing and looked me right in the eye. ‘Alice, can I ask you? Did you go into your Grandie’s old office today?’
My stomach gave a lurch. ‘Yes,’ I answered sheepishly. ‘Ben noticed it from the top of the ladder and curiosity got the better of me. Is there a problem? Is Grandie upset with me?’
Connie placed a plaster on my knee. ‘That should be okay now,’ she said, rinsing the bowl out in the sink. ‘I would say he’s a little shocked to see his office uncovered after all this time. He’s gone for a lie down.’
‘I didn’t mean to hurt anyone,’ I added tentatively.
‘Where did you get the key from?’
‘Grandie. He gave me a bunch of keys and once we’d uncovered the door I realised one of those keys fitted the lock. Why was it all shut away?’ I asked, as Connie slid a mug of tea in my direction.
‘Painful memories for Ted. That was the hub of their life. The dance school was one thing, for the community, but that was where they danced together of a night-time. Where each of them would choreograph their routines, support each other and practise, but once Florrie …’ Her voice wavered and she blinked away a tear.
‘Connie, I’ve only just discovered what happened to Grandma.’
Connie looked at me with sorry eyes and reached over and rubbed my hand. ‘You poor love,’ her tone soft when she realised it was all so new for me.
‘No one ever told me, Mum never spoke about her – well, not to me anyway. Did you know what happened?’
Connie nodded, ‘Yes of course, the whole village was in mourning,’ she shivered, ‘it was devastating for everyone.’ I could see the goosebumps prickle on Connie’s arms and she quivered.
Taking a deep breath, she said, ‘I was there that night.’
My jaw dropped open. ‘At the theatre?’ Her face turned a ghastly shade of white. ‘And?’ I narrowed my eyes at Connie. ‘Please tell me.’
Connie took a breath. ‘It was a big night for Ted and Florrie, they were special guests of the theatre and the press were waiting to take their photographs. It was the first time the show had opened again, since your grandparents had performed The Nutcracker all those years ago. They were local celebrities, guests of honour. Ted had secured a couple of extra seats which he’d given to me and your mum.
‘I’d arranged to meet your mum outside the theatre just before 7 p.m., but by ten past she still hadn’t arrived. Florrie had travelled alone from an afternoon event and was due to meet Ted there too. As far as we knew, she’d been stuck in traffic and was also running late. We were waiting outside when Ted suggested we move into the foyer before taking our seats.’ Connie blinked away her tears. ‘So, we did … and that’s when we heard it,’ she exhaled.
‘Heard what?’ I questioned.
‘The thud, the screams and the screech of a car. We ran outside, there was a huddle of people gathered around a body on the floor … Florrie. The ambulance arrived, but they couldn’t save her. She didn’t make it to hospital.’
The emotion poured through my body, the tears began to fall. ‘I don’t know what to say.’ My voice trembled.
For a brief moment, Connie closed her eyes. ‘It was just at that moment that your mum appeared from nowhere … Ted was sitting on the pavement, with your grandma locked in his arms. It was a devastating scene. The police arrived and told us the car was stolen and the driver had mounted the pavement. The bastard was arrested on the spot and thankfully charged and eventually sent down, but it was never going to bring Florrie back.’
Listening to Connie, I felt like I’d been kicked in the stomach. The pain was so raw, just thinking about what everyone had gone through that night. I sat still, numb. I had no idea what to do or say. What could I say? Grandma had been wiped from their lives through the actions of a selfish human being.
Visions of my mum filtered through my mind, how her life had changed in a split second. Thinking about her grief, what she’d been through saddened me. Bringing me up without a mother figure in her own life must have been difficult at times.
Discovering the truth about all of this threw me into further turmoil about the dilemma I’d been faced with. I questioned my own decision to stay in England. After all this time, what would it do to Mum if I abandoned her, especially after what I’d just discovered? I was torn between my love for her and wanting to make a successful life for myself – a home, a business. For all these years she’d been loyal to me, cared for me, had always been there for me, and suddenly my head had been turned by the prospect of this brand-new life back in England.
A pang of guilt hit me. How could I be so selfish? I loved Mum so much and a future without her in it was unthinkable.
Connie touched my hand and gave it a quick squeeze. ‘It may be over twenty years ago, but the events of that night never left any of us. Your mum’s life was catapulted into one of grief and disarray. She was in the early stages of pregnancy, carrying you, and she lost so much weight with stress, we thought she might lose you.’
I gasped, ‘It’s all so awful.’
‘To be honest, when you came along – three weeks early, I may add – you were certainly a blessing in disguise. It gave us all something to focus on. You brought joy back into everyone’s life and your grandfather doted on you.’
My eyes met hers. She was visibly upset and swallowed hard.
‘The night Rose went into labour, we were all here, sat in the living room. That day had already been a difficult one.’
‘Why?’
Connie’s shoulders sagged. For a second she squeezed her grief-stricken eyes tightly shut. ‘Because it was Florrie’s birthday. It was the first birthday we’d spent without her. We’d spent the day at the cemetery.’
I dropped my head in my hands and sobbed. ‘Are you saying my birthday is the same as Grandma’s?’
Connie nodded. ‘Yes,’ she said softly.
I took a moment to compose myself but at last someone was talking, I was getting more information about the past. ‘Every year, I must remind them of Grandma.’
‘Don’t fret about that, that’s not a bad thing. She was a remarkable, caring person, beautiful on the outside and in, a rare quality in people of this day and age. Go and talk to your grandfather, he’s not angry with you, he just still misses Florrie so much.’
I nodded, stood up and walked into the hallway. Taking a deep breath, I began to climb the stairs.