The Girl With No Name (56 page)

‘Won’t you tell me where they are? Please?’ Charlotte begged. ‘Just give me their address so I can write and tell them I’m all right.’

‘Tell you what I’ll do,’ Shirley said. ‘Tell me your address and when I get back home, I’ll tell them where you are. Then if they want to see you after all this time, they can come and find you.’

Charlotte told her the Livingston Road address. ‘I should write it for you,’ she said. ‘Have you paper?’

‘No,’ said Shirley, ‘but I’ll remember.’ And with that she turned away, back to the ruin of her own house.

Charlotte stared after her. Why wouldn’t this woman, this neighbour, tell her where the Federmans had gone? She walked a little way down the road, looking at the other houses, wondering whom she could ask. The obvious place would have been the Duke, but that was long gone, only a patch of wilderness where the pub had once stood. Behind her she heard the sound of footsteps and looking round she saw Shirley Newman walking briskly away. On impulse, Charlotte followed her. Shirley had said, ‘When I get home.’ She must live near to the Federmans.

All I have to do, thought Charlotte in excitement, is follow her home.

Dropping back a little way so that Shirley wouldn’t notice her if she turned round, Charlotte followed her through the streets. But Shirley didn’t look round, she was in a hurry to catch her train. Even when she got on a bus, she was unaware of Charlotte jumping on just before the bus drew away.

When they reached Liverpool Street station and Charlotte realised that Shirley was going to catch a train, her heart sank. She had a little money for a ticket, but even if she followed Shirley aboard, she wouldn’t know where to get off.

She saw Shirley accost a porter and moving closer heard his answer to her question.

‘Feneton? Platform ten. Leaves in ten minutes.’

Feneton. He’d told her all she needed to know. Charlotte hurried to the ticket office, bought a ticket to Feneton and ran to platform ten. There was no sign of Shirley, but that didn’t matter now. Now she knew where she was going she didn’t need to keep her in sight until they got there. She sat in a corner seat and within moments the train started to move. It was only then that she thought of Caroline Morrison. She would soon be wondering where on earth Charlotte had got to. She sighed. Too late to worry about that now, she thought. When I get to this Feneton place I’ll find a phone box and ring and tell Miss Morrison where I am.

When the train steamed into Feneton, only a few people got off. Charlotte hung back as Shirley strode out of the station. It was still early evening and daylight, so she followed at a distance, but Shirley, obviously busy with her own thoughts, walked briskly down the road without looking back. Charlotte followed, and as they passed the pub, the Feneton Arms, Shirley paused as if about to go in, then apparently thinking better of it walked on. Charlotte, who had ducked into a doorway, also paused when she reached the pub. Should she keep following Shirley? She didn’t trust her to tell the Federmans anything about her. She would try to find them on her own, she decided, and where better to ask if anyone knew a family called Federman? Uncle Dan had always enjoyed a pint at the Duke, perhaps he was a regular here now. Taking a deep breath, Charlotte pushed open the door of the lounge bar and went inside.

The room wasn’t busy, several RAF officers were standing, drinking at the bar, and a couple were seated at a table in the window. The woman behind the bar looked up and smiled as Charlotte paused in the doorway. Encouraged by her smile, Charlotte walked across to the bar.

‘Can I help you, dear?’ asked the woman. She could see that the girl who had just come in was too young to be buying a drink.

‘I was wondering...’ Charlotte began and hesitated.

‘Yes?’

‘I was wondering if you happen to know a Mr and Mrs Federman.’ Charlotte felt the colour flood her cheeks.

‘I might,’ replied the barmaid. ‘Who’s asking?’

‘I am Lisa. I am looking for Aunt Naomi and Uncle Dan.’

The woman stared at her and then saying, ‘Wait here a minute,’ disappeared through a door.

Charlotte waited, conscious of the interested eyes of the RAF men at the bar beside her.

Moments later the door behind the bar burst open again and another woman appeared. She stared at Charlotte and the colour drained from her face.

‘Lisa?’ she whispered. ‘Lisa? Is it really you?’ She raised the flap in the bar counter and came out beside Charlotte. ‘Oh, my darling girl, where have you been? We thought you were dead. Oh, Lisa!’ And with that she flung her arms round Charlotte and burst into tears. Charlotte was crying too, and the barmaid said, ‘Take her upstairs, Naomi. I can manage here, we’re not busy.’

Naomi took Charlotte’s hand and led her out of the bar and upstairs. She pushed open a door and they went into a sitting room. A man, who was reading the paper, looked up as they came in.

‘Hallo, love,’ he said. ‘Who’s this?’

‘Uncle Dan?’ Charlotte said. ‘It’s me, Lisa.’

Dan started up from his chair and stared at her incredulously. ‘Lisa? Our Lisa?’ He held out a hand and she crossed the room to be gathered into the bear hug of his arms.

‘Where have you been? What happened to you?’

‘We thought you were dead...’

‘I was injured in a raid and...’

They all spoke at once and all stopped again as shaky tears and laughter took over.

‘Let’s sit down,’ Naomi said. ‘Then we can talk properly. Oh, Lisa, I can’t believe you’re here.’

‘I can’t believe I found you at last,’ Charlotte said. ‘I wrote...’

They sat, the three of them, and as the daylight faded into dusk and darkness, told their stories. Charlotte of her lost memory and evacuation to Wynsdown, Naomi of her evacuation to Feneton and the birth of Nicholas, now asleep next door in the bedroom, and Dan of the night of the second Great Fire of London, followed by his permanent move to Feneton.

‘But how did you find us now?’ asked Naomi.

Charlotte explained about following Shirley. ‘I didn’t know where you were in the village, but I thought maybe someone in the pub would know.’

‘Why on earth didn’t the stupid woman simply tell you where we was?’ demanded Dan. ‘She knew we was desperate to find you.’

‘She probably wanted to be the one to tell us,’ Naomi said. ‘Make her feel important.’ She had no illusions about Shirley. She was grateful to her for bringing her to Feneton, but since she’d got to know her better, she knew that they’d never be real friends. Each had done a good turn for the other, and that was that.

‘So, where did you say you was living now?’ Dan asked and, as she began to explain about working at the Livingston Road children’s home, Charlotte suddenly clapped her hand over her mouth.

‘They don’t know where I am now,’ she cried. ‘Miss Morrison will think I’m lost.’

‘You must ring her, now,’ Naomi said sharply. ‘Come downstairs with me and you can phone her. It’s dark and she’ll be very worried about you.’

They went downstairs and when Naomi had explained, Jenny waved them to the phone. ‘Help yourself.’

The relief tinged with anger in Caroline’s voice when Charlotte was finally put through was clear to hear.

‘Thank God, Charlotte, I thought you’d got lost. You shouldn’t have gone off on your own like that. We’ve been worried sick.’

‘I’m sorry, Miss Morrison, but I had to take the chance of finding Aunt Naomi and Uncle Dan while it was there.’

‘I know,’ agreed Caroline, but there was still an edge to her voice. ‘When will you be coming back? I assume you will be coming back?’

‘Yes, of course, I will catch the train tomorrow.’

‘Have you got enough money?’

‘I have enough,’ Charlotte assured her, though she had no idea if it were true.

Their three minutes up, they said goodbye and Charlotte replaced the receiver.

‘You can take the rest of the evening off,’ Jenny told Naomi. ‘We’ll be closed at ten as it’s Sunday. Jim and I can manage down here.’ She smiled at Charlotte. ‘I expect you’ve a lot to catch up on.’

Naomi thanked her and they went back upstairs where Dan was waiting in the living room. Beside him was a small suitcase.

‘Thought you’d like this back,’ he said.

Charlotte’s eyes widened as she saw the little case she’d brought with her from Hanau. ‘My things?’ she whispered. She took the case and opened it and there, lying on the top, just as Naomi had intended, the first thing she saw was the letter from her mother. With a cry she picked it up and smoothing out the creases read once again the words her mother had written to her three years ago.

She glanced back at her foster parents, tears again in her eyes. ‘I thought I’d lost my things, my letter from Mutti. But you kept them for me.’

That night Charlotte slept on the sofa in the living room. Naomi had heated up some soup on the gas ring in the corner and made cheese sandwiches to go with it, and as they ate the three of them continued to tell of the things that had happened since that fateful day two years earlier.

Charlotte wondered if she’d sleep at all, with all the emotions of the day, but as soon as she snuggled down under the blanket Naomi found for her, she slid, exhausted, into oblivion. She was awoken the next morning by a pair of hands pulling at her hair. She sat up with a start and found herself face to face with a toddling baby boy.

‘Oh, Nicky, you naughty boy,’ cried Naomi rushing into the room and scooping him up. ‘I’m sorry, Lisa, I didn’t mean him to wake you.’ She smiled as Charlotte held out her arms to the child. ‘This is your big sister, Lisa,’ she told the boy as she passed him over. ‘Can you say Lisa?’ Nicky allowed himself to be settled on Charlotte’s knee and inspected her face at close quarters.

‘Lee?’ he said.

‘That’s right, clever boy, Lisa.’

They all sat up to the table for a breakfast of porridge, toast and tea, and as they ate Charlotte looked round at her family, her London family, and once again tears slid down her cheeks.

‘Lee cryin’,’ announced Nicky from his high chair.

‘Yes,’ agreed Charlotte, ‘but with happiness.’

She caught the train back to Liverpool Street later that morning. Dan had had to go to work, but Naomi and Nicky accompanied her to the station, and Naomi bought her ticket.

‘Now, you’ve got the phone number, haven’t you?’ she said as they waited on the platform. ‘We can keep in touch by post now, but if there’s anything urgent you can ring the pub.’

‘And you can ring Livingston Road. Oh, Aunt Naomi, I can’t believe I’ve found you!’

‘Well, we ain’t going to lose you again now, Lisa.’

The train steamed into the station and with a quick kiss to Naomi and Nicky, Charlotte scrambled aboard, once again carrying her small brown suitcase. Leaning out of the window, she called, ‘I’ll be back to see you again very soon, I promise.’ The train started to move and they all waved until it rounded a bend and they were out of sight.

When she reached Livingston Road she went straight to Caroline’s office.

‘Oh, Miss Morrison,’ she cried, ‘I’m so sorry to have worried you.’

Caroline Morrison gave a weary sigh. ‘It’s all right, Charlotte, as long as you’re all right. Now, tell me all about it.’

*

When Harry didn’t reappear for another two weeks, Caroline decided it was time to tell Charlotte about her inheritance. She was spurred on to this by a call from Avril saying that the solicitor needed Charlotte to sign some papers. So that evening, when the home was at last quiet, she sat Charlotte down and told her about Miss Edie’s will.

‘She’s left everything to you, Charlotte,’ she explained. ‘It’s in trust until you’re twenty-one, but the house is yours, you can live there if you want to, and you’ll have a suitable income from the estate until it becomes yours absolutely.’

Charlotte stared at her, unable to take it all in.

‘You mean everything she owned is now mine? All her things?’

‘Yes, everything. But the financial side will be looked after by David Swanson and Mr Thompson. They’re the trustees and they will manage your affairs until you’re of age.’

‘Miss Edie left me all this?’

‘She did,’ Caroline agreed with a smile. ‘She loved you very much.’

Charlotte travelled back to Wynsdown the following week. As the train chugged its way westward, she considered the amazing turn her life had taken in the last few weeks. She had found and lost Harry, she had found the Federmans and she had discovered that she now had property and money of her own.

The clothes that had been folded so neatly into her little suitcase by Naomi were far too small for her now and she gave them to Caroline to use for the children in the home. The letter from her mother, her passport, her other immigration documents, her old ration book and her original identity card were now safely in her handbag. She could now prove that she was who she said she was, and she found that very comforting.

‘You’ll come and stay with us,’ Avril had said on the phone. ‘We’re all looking forward to seeing you.’

Charlotte had agreed. She certainly didn’t want to stay by herself in Blackdown House and the vicarage would be overcrowded, but welcoming. Despite having been away for only a few months, Charlotte knew that she was a different person from the one who’d left Wynsdown.

‘Someone’ll meet you at the station,’ Avril promised.

‘Probably Dr Masters,’ Caroline had said. ‘He’s the one with the extra petrol.’

It wasn’t Dr Masters whom Charlotte found waiting outside the station, but Billy. For a moment she paused, unseen, clutching her suitcase, and then he turned and saw her. His face cracked into a huge grin and he crossed the few yards between them in two strides. Taking her case from her and dumping it unceremoniously on the ground he gathered her into his arms and held her hard against him. He made no move to kiss her, but for a long moment they clung together before he gently put her from him and looked down into her face.

‘Oh, Char,’ he murmured. ‘I have missed you!’

Charlotte didn’t answer and he picked up her case and led the way to where the farm car was parked.

When they reached the car they were greeted by frantic barking and Bessie, confined to the back seat, erupted when Billy opened the door. She flung herself at Charlotte, a flurry of bouncing feet and wildly waving tail, and Charlotte, bending down, found her face being washed with an exuberant pink tongue.