out with Fleetwood Mac the next.’
‘Sounds incredible.’
‘She’s got some brilliant stories,’ I agreed.
‘But when we were kids and Mum was poorly,’ Miranda said, ‘Lil stepped in and made sure we were being looked after.’ She drained her wine glass. ‘I’m not sure what we would have done without her.’
‘Blimey,’ Jack said, topping up Miranda’s empty glass. ‘You are really close?’
I nodded. ‘I thought so,’ I said. ‘And yet she’s never mentioned her time in the ATA.’
I looked at Miranda. ‘Manda, we found Lil’s service record.’ I picked up the folder Jack had brought with him, which was now splattered with beer and something that looked like tomato ketchup, even though we’d not eaten. ‘Look at what happened.’
I handed her the sheet of paper and watched as she read the lines at the bottom.
‘Oh shit,’ she said. ‘Dishonourable discharge?’
‘What do you think, Manda?’ I said. ‘Do you still think we should speak to her about it?’
Miranda made a face. ‘I’m going to Paris on Friday for a week,’ she said. ‘So I can’t help. But yes, I think you should go and see her. Find out what it was all about.’
‘She might not want to talk,’ I said. ‘What if it upsets her? She’s really old.’
‘She’s tough as old boots,’ said Miranda. ‘I really think you should try to talk about it. We can’t pretend that we don’t know now – she’d see through that in a flash.’
I nodded. That was true.
‘All right,’ I said. ‘I’ll go and see her at the weekend.’
The following Saturday, Dora and I sat on a train heading out through the leafy suburbs of south-west London to see Lil. She was ninety-four now and very frail, so she lived in a care home. It was an amazing place, funded by an entertainers’ charity. All the residents of the home had once made their living as performers of one kind or another and now saw out their days reminiscing together and – too often for my liking – providing their own entertainment. They had mostly been jobbing actors, or, as Lil had been, session musicians, but there was the occasional recognisable face and they all loved to put on a show.
I normally phoned ahead when I visited, but today I’d not told Lil I was coming. After everything we’d found out, I was nervous about seeing her, which was strange considering how much I loved her. And for some reason I didn’t want to warn her – though quite why I needed to be so sneaky about it all, I wasn’t sure. It wasn’t like I was expecting to walk in and catch her piloting a Spitfire around the residents’ lounge.
What I actually found, when we walked into the residents’ lounge, was one of the actors – a man who once trod the boards at the RSC and had been a regular on the West End stage – standing in the middle of the room, reciting a speech from A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
I paused by the door, scanning the room for Lil and clocked her sitting in the corner watching the ageing actor with barely disguised amusement. Our eyes met and she smiled.
‘Hello,’ she called, ignoring the fact that the actor was still going. ‘I wasn’t expecting you today.’
Dora jumped up and down. She loved Lil. ‘Hello!’ she shouted. ‘’Lo, Lil!’
Like a small bullet, she swerved the gesturing arms of the Shakespearean chap, and hurtled over to my aunt. I followed and sat down next to her.
‘Surprise!’ I said. ‘Careful of Lil’s legs, Dora.’
Dora clambered up on to my knee and beamed at Lil. ‘’Lo, Lil,’ she said again.
‘Hello, my darling girl,’ Lil said to her, twirling one of her curls round her finger. ‘I think you’ve grown again.’
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
