It's Now or Never (28 page)

‘So why are you worried?'

‘I don't trust the uncle. Apparently, he'd been arguing with Nick's dad over a house left to them by their father. I just have a feeling that the uncle wants Nick out of the way and it's to do with the house.'

‘This Nick, is he the one in your sketch book?'

Roberta blinked at her. ‘Have you been looking at my drawings?'

Lynne nodded. ‘Obviously. You've nothing to hide, have you? You haven't been meeting him before all this happened, have you?'

‘If you mean sneakily – no! I've only ever seen him in the library and the coffee bar.' Roberta frowned. ‘Anyway, I thought you might mention about Nick being adopted and sent away to his uncle, to Hester Walker's brother, the policeman.'

‘I'll see,' said Lynne, reaching into her apron pocket and taking out an envelope. ‘You didn't really need to talk to Lenny. This is a letter from Betty and Stuart. I can't say that either of them has wasted any time getting together and making plans.'

Roberta smiled. ‘You mean they've had a whirlwind romance and are getting married?'

‘No-oo!' Lynne handed her the envelope. ‘Read it and you'll see. I'm wondering what Emma and Jared will make of it.'

Roberta took the letter out of the envelope and began to read. Her eyes widened as she came to the part that her mother had referred to and then she looked at Lynne. ‘She's going to go to California with Stuart to paint! She's going to get herself a job over there.'

‘Yes, although she'll be coming home to Liverpool before then. She wants to be here when Emma's baby arrives and Stuart will be staying in Europe a bit longer.'

‘D'you think they plan on getting married eventually?' asked Roberta.

‘I've no idea. She'd need Jared's permission because he's her guardian and she isn't twenty-one yet,' Lynne murmured.

‘I hope they do get married,' said Roberta happily, handing the letter back to her mother. ‘What's to eat? And where's Nan?'

‘With the weather being so nice, she decided to go for a walk to the park,' said Lynne, frowning. ‘I would have gone with her but she told me not to bother and get on with sewing. I'll go and get your dinner out the oven and then take a stroll that way and see if she's fallen asleep or is talking to someone.'

‘You get going now, Mam. I can get my own dinner out of the oven,' said Roberta, shooing her mother out of the kitchen.

Lynne put on her cardigan and headed for the front door. ‘I'll be back soon,' she said.

But Lynne did not return as quickly as she would have liked because when she reached West Derby Road there was still no sign of Nan. She crossed to Sheil Park, passed the prefabs and the children's play area, still without catching a glimpse of her grandmother. Her concern increased and she continued walking towards Sheil Road and crossed to the road that led to Newsham Park on the other side.

The park consisted of a large area of grassland where children and adults alike played ball games or picnicked and occasionally listened to a brass band playing at the weekend. At the far end of the park there was the boating lake where Roberta and Nan had seen Nick and Chris rowing the day of the wedding. Lynne told herself that it was possible that her grandmother had managed to walk alone this far with having her walking stick. Of course, she could have also met a neighbour who had lent her an arm and both could be sitting on a bench, resting.

Suddenly Lynne spotted the green-coated bulky figure of Nan on a bench several yards away. She appeared to be asleep in the evening sun but a feeling of foreboding caused Lynne to run the last few yards. Reaching out a trembling hand, she touched her grandmother's wrinkled cheek. It still felt warm but Lynne knew that the dear old woman was dead because there was no familiar sound of her laboured breathing.

She sat next to Nan and took her hand in hers and felt for a pulse but could not find one. Tears rolled down her cheeks but she made no move to get up. Eventually she knew that she would need help. She glanced about her. Where was the park keeper when you needed him? Certainly nowhere in sight and she couldn't see anyone else either. But then it was tea time. Then she spotted a youth standing on the bridge, gazing down at the lake's surface.

‘Excuse me!' she called. He appeared not to have heard her, so she raised her voice. ‘Hey, love, could you give me a hand here?'

His fair head turned and he looked her way. She signalled for him to come over. He left the bridge and came towards her. She had a feeling that she had seen him before but that wasn't important now.

‘What is it, Missus?' he asked.

‘I need help with my grandmother. She's died.'

He stared at the old woman and Lynne with a stricken expression in his brown eyes. ‘What … what d'you want me to do?'

The sight had obviously upset him, thought Lynne. ‘It's all right, love. She's not going to harm you. It's only the living that can hurt you. Could you find the park keeper for me, and if you can't, could you go to the police station and explain the situation? I can't leave her, you see.'

The youth swallowed and then nodded and took off at a run. She watched him go, hoping he would do what she asked and not just abandon her.

Within half an hour, she heard the ringing of an ambulance bell in the near distance. Five minutes or so later, a middle-aged policeman approached her, followed by two men carrying a stretcher.

‘Are you all right, Missus?' asked the police sergeant.

Lynne recognized him. ‘You're Hester's father!' she blurted out.

He stared at her. ‘And you're …?'

‘The dressmaker. I'm Lynne Donegan and this is my grandmother! She …' Tears welled up in her eyes again and she couldn't go on.

Immediately the three men took over and did all that was necessary and later Lynne was taken home in a police car.

She found Roberta outside the house talking to a neighbour and her daughter seized hold of Lynne's arm as soon as she stepped out of the police car. ‘What's happened? Where's Nan?'

Lynne told her the sad news and Roberta cried in her arms.

The following days were difficult ones and it was not until a week after the funeral that mother and daughter experienced any semblance of normality in their lives. They had a visit from Jeanette who brought condolences and letters from Emma and Hester, and Sam called round. He sat with Lynne in the kitchen, drinking tea and eating jam tarts.

‘I'm sorry I never met your grandmother,' he said. ‘Jeanette and Hester said that she was quite a character.'

‘She was and I'm going to miss her terribly,' said Lynne huskily, absently breaking a jam tart in half. ‘She had a very interesting life but there was sadness in it, too. She married late and lost her husband within a few years. My father, her son, died in his thirties and that grieved her deeply. He was a hero, though. A fire bobby, he rescued some children from a fire, only to lose his own life. At least Nan lived to a ripe old age. She was always there when I needed her.' Lynne blinked back tears.

Sam put down his cup and took out a large white handkerchief and offered it to her. ‘She was also fortunate having you to take care of her in her old age.'

She mumbled a thank-you and wiped her eyes. ‘I'll wash it and return it to you,' she said, placing it in her pocket.

They were both silent for a few moments and then Lynne said, ‘You know I had to make a real search for her birth certificate. Fortunately I found it in a box with all kinds of memorabilia to do with the theatre. She was nearly ninety-one.' She gave him a watery smile.

He took her hand and squeezed it gently. ‘You were fortunate getting on so well with your grandmother. I never knew mine but my great-aunt has lived with us for years and she and I never have got on. Now she's going senile I can't believe that I actually feel sorry for her. I could do with Jeanette living back home but, maybe when Dorothy returns …' He sighed. ‘But that wouldn't be fair on her.'

Despite finding real comfort in the feel of his strong but sensitive fingers holding hers, Lynne withdrew her hand. ‘You mean the pair of you will be getting married when she comes home?'

His brow furrowed and he toyed with his fingers, bending them back and forth. She watched him, fascinated. ‘Are you double-jointed?'

He nodded but didn't expand on the subject. Instead he said, ‘I don't know anything for certain where Dorothy's concerned. She has a mind of her own and makes no pretence that it won't be difficult for her to give up her career. She's talked about producing and directing a film about women of Liverpool, so maybe she will stay in Liverpool for a while.'

‘I should imagine a lot of Liverpudlians would find such a film interesting,' said Lynne. ‘It's a pity she had to cancel her visit to Nan. I'm sure she would have found more material for her film.'

‘Yes, it was a nuisance that she had to leave in a rush.' He frowned.

She remembered what Betty had said about Dorothy seeing Lenny that day and wondered if Sam knew about it but decided it was none of her business. ‘You'll have heard from her, of course,' said Lynne.

He nodded. ‘A couple of postcards and she telephoned the other evening. Apparently she met Stuart Anderson and Betty Booth and they had a great time watching scenes being played out.'

‘So I heard. How long will it be before the film hits our cinema screens?'

Sam's brown eyes met hers and he gave a wry smile. ‘Now you're asking me something! I've no idea. I doubt she knows herself.'

They both fell silent and then Lynne remembered what her daughter had told her to mention to Sam. ‘Do you mind me asking you about one of your cases?' She did not wait for his answer. ‘The shopkeeper who was murdered … his son … did you know he was adopted and that his uncle is planning to send him to South Africa?'

‘It's news to me,' said Sam, frowning. ‘How did you get to know?'

‘My daughter told me and she had it from a friend of the boy. I assume the uncle must have told him he was adopted after he went to live with him.'

‘Why should he want the lad to go to South Africa? If he didn't want to have him live with him, his friend's parents would have fostered him but he turned their offer down.'

Lynne hesitated before saying, ‘My daughter thinks he wants him out of the way. Something to do with the uncle and the boy's father arguing over a house that had been left to them.'

‘I see,' murmured Sam, remembering how he had thought the victim had most likely known his murderer. ‘Thanks for this information, Lynne. I must admit I felt sorry for the lad. I had a feeling he wasn't fond of the uncle but my superior didn't see anything wrong with that.'

‘Glad to be of help.' She smiled. ‘Another jam tart? I find baking relaxing when I'm stressed out.'

He smiled. ‘Your pastry's good. Our Hester's got light hands with pastry, too. You should go up and visit her in Whalley sometime.'

‘I have had an invitation. Perhaps when I've finished all the sewing I have on at the moment.'

He hesitated before saying, ‘Are you all right for money, Lynne? If things are tight we do have a fund …'

Hastily she replied, ‘I'm fine. I had no difficulty paying for the funeral. Nan had paid tuppences and sixpences for insurance weekly with the Liver and the Pru over the years and there was also some money in her post office savings book. If I'm careful I'll have enough to pay for coal and gas and electricity for a year or more, as well as have the odd day out.'

He nodded and then left, saying that he hoped to see her again before too long. ‘I'll let you know when I find out more about the Rogers case.'

She thanked him and, after he had gone, found herself hugging the thought of seeing him again to herself. She washed his handkerchief and hung it on the line, considering his handsome face with his thick mop of fair hair, brown eyes and charming smile. He seemed so strong and caring. She told herself she should not be thinking about him in such a way but then he and Dorothy were not officially engaged, although a wedding definitely appeared to be in the offering. Even so, she could not wait until their next meeting and hopefully it would not be too long before he discovered more about the boy, Nick, and the so-called uncle.

The following morning, after telling his inspector what he had discovered and asking what his superior had found out after speaking to Kenneth Rogers' solicitor, Sam consulted a couple of maps, filled up with petrol and headed for the Mersey Tunnel. Shotton on the Dee was approximately an hour's journey away, as long as the traffic kept flowing and he wasn't caught up in the notorious bottle neck that was Queensferry. Fortunately, the bank holiday was not yet upon them and the roads were not overly busy. Eventually he took the turning for Shotton and drove along Chester Road West and turned into a street on the left of what he took to be Victorian terraces. He drew up at the kerb in front of the address he had taken from the files. There was a notice in the garden saying ‘Sold, subject to contract'. It took only a couple of strides to reach the front door and ring the doorbell.

A woman working in the front garden next door glanced at him. ‘He's not there,' she said.

‘Do you know where he is?' asked Sam.

‘I've no idea.'

Damn!
thought Sam. ‘What about his nephew?'

‘Kenneth's boy? Me and my husband thought he'd be staying here until he left school but we haven't seen him for about a fortnight.'

Sam frowned. ‘What about Mr Rogers?'

‘It was a couple of days after we stopped seeing Nicholas that he vanished. It's all very strange.' She stared at him. ‘What's your interest? Are you a debt collector? If so, you're not the first.'

‘No, I'm a detective with Liverpool Police Force.' Sam produced his ID.