Grace onto the concourse.
‘Is she all right?’ said Manny, suddenly concerned. He took off his hat and scratched his slightly balding head.
‘Mrs Rogers has had a bit of an upset, that’s all,’ said Norris pleasantly.
‘If you had let me go,’ Grace said, suddenly rounding on Manny, ‘I might have been able to stop my daughter making the biggest mistake of her life.’
Manny looked uncomfortable. ‘I cannot help that,’ he said defensively. ‘You know I would do anything for you, Grace. The men on the platform were government inspectors for when the railway goes national next year. Rules are rules and I have to obey.’
‘Mrs Rogers … Grace,’ said Norris. ‘You’re soaked to the skin. Let me take you home. My car is just outside.’
‘Your paper, sir,’ said Manny.
‘Eh?’ Norris seemed a little confused.
‘You dropped your paper.’ He handed him a rolled-up newspaper.
‘Oh, right,’ grinned Norris, taking it from him.
Manny watched them go.
‘Nice man, that Mr Finley,’ the woman remarked as she handed Manny her ticket and he nodded.
Outside it was still tipping with rain. ‘I’ll walk,’ said Grace stiffly. ‘It’s not far and I’m wet through anyway.’
There were still people waiting for taxis or buses. ‘Absolutely not, my dear Mrs Rogers,’ Finley insisted. ‘Hop in.’
As he climbed into the car, he handed her his folded handkerchief before they set off. He drove away like a madman but her mind was so full of Bonnie, Grace hardly noticed. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. Outside her house, Grace turned to him. ‘She left me a note,’ she said hopelessly. ‘I found it when I got in from work.’
‘Where’s she gone?’
Grace looked up at him. ‘That’s just it,’ she said. ‘I don’t know. All she said was she had to leave Worthing.’
‘Had to leave?’ He raised his eyebrows and let out a short sigh. ‘Ah well, you can’t keep her tied to your apron strings all her life. She’s a sensible girl, isn’t she? She’ll be fine.’
Grace’s eyes grew wide. ‘Promise me you didn’t have anything to do with this?’
‘Of course I didn’t! Why should I?’
‘Why were you there then? What were you doing on the platform?’
‘I’ve been in Southampton on business,’ he said irritably.
‘Did you see her get on the train?’
‘No, but then I’m hardly likely to, am I?’ he said. ‘I travel first class. Does Bonnie travel first class? No, I didn’t think so, so why would I have seen her? Don’t be so melodramatic, Grace.’
Grace fumbled for the door handle but couldn’t open the door. ‘I didn’t expect any sympathy from you but Bonnie leaving like this … it’s breaking my heart.’
‘For God’s sake, Grace. Nobody died, did they?’ Norris said coldly. ‘She’ll be fine.’ He got out of the car and came round to the passenger side. Just as he opened the door Grace’s neighbour walked by under a large umbrella.
‘There you are, Mrs Rogers,’ Norris said loudly and cheerfully as he stepped back. ‘Back home safe and sound. Can I help you with your door key?’
Grace shook her head. The door was open anyway. She hadn’t stopped to lock it. She turned and he waved cheerfully as he got back into his car. He drove off at speed, leaving Grace standing like a dumb thing on the pavement.
‘You’ll catch your death of cold,’ said a voice. ‘You look soaked to the skin.’ Their eyes met and she hesitated. ‘You all right, Grace?’ Her neighbour who lived next-door-but-one, Elsie Dawson, was on her step putting her key into her own door. Dougie, her son, stood behind his mother waiting for her to open it. Elsie, her middle son Dougie and daughter Mo were good friends with Rita and Bonnie, and they had all enjoyed sharing times like Christmas and Easter together. Bob, Elsie’s oldest boy, was in the army now andMo was in the same class as Rita at school but Dougie was what the powers that be called ‘retarded’, a term which made Grace cross. He might struggle with understanding, but he wasn’t stupid. Once he knew what you wanted, Dougie would put his hand to anything.
‘I’m fine, thank you,’ Grace said with as much dignity as she could muster. But once inside the house, she sat alone on the cold stairs and gave way to her tears once again.
As the train sped towards London, Bonnie stared out of the window. She should have done this earlier in the day while she still had the opportunity. The light was going and by the time she reached Victoria station it would be dark. Never mind, George would be there to meet her. If for some reason they missed each other, he’d told her to wait by the entrance of platform 12.
She had finished work a lot earlier than she’d thought she would. The people in the wages department had worked out that she was owed a half day’s holiday so rather than give her the extra in her wage packet, she had been told she could go by ten o’clock. Seeing as how she had arranged to meet George in time for the train, it meant she had a couple of hours to kill. Her case was already in the left luggage department at Worthing and she couldn’t go back home, so she went to his digs.
Mrs Kerr, his landlady, was her usual unwelcoming self. ‘He’s not here,’ she’d said curtly, ‘and I have no time to entertain his guests.’ She had obviously taken her apron off to answer the door and now she was putting it back on again.
‘Do you know where he might be?’ Bonnie had asked.
‘He’s going to London.’
‘I know that,’ Bonnie had said. ‘I just wondered if he was still here.’
Mrs Kerr shrugged. ‘As far as I know, he’s gone to the old factory.’
Bonnie had frowned. ‘But why? It’s all shut up, isn’t it?’
‘All I know is he said he’d found something. Now I’m very busy.’
‘Do you know what he’d found?’ Bonnie persisted.
‘Am I my brother’s keeper?’ Mrs Kerr snapped as she shut the door.
Bonnie had stood on the pavement wondering what to do. There was still plenty of time before the train so she’d decided to walk to the factory. She didn’t have to go right into West Worthing. There was a Jacob’s ladder in Pavilion Road which was between the stations and came out at the bottom of Heene Road. Although she was wearing her best shoes, which were quite unsuitable for walking, it hadn’t taken her long to get to Finley’s Knitwear.
She had met George Matthews at a dance in the Assembly Hall. He was a friend of a friend and they’d hit it off straight away. He was so debonair, so handsome and so unlike any of her other friends that it wasn’t long before she was hopelessly in love with him. He worked at the knitwear
