make sense to her.
‘Great-gran, which room did you have when you lived here?’ Kelly asked.
‘Well now, it was the one on the left, next to the bathroom,’ Margaret replied.
‘That’s mine, now,’ Ryan said, triumphantly. ‘I got the big one.’
‘I’m in the smaller one at the back, over the kitchen,’ Kelly said. ‘Whose was that? Was it Betty’s?’
‘No,’ Gran said sharply. ‘It wasn’t Betty’s. She had the one at the front of the house. The back one was…just a storage room.’
‘Who was…’ began Kelly, at the same time that Ali said, ‘Tea, Gran? I’ve been baking. I know how much you like a home-made cake, and though I say it myself, I think I’ve done well.’ She brought in the tray with the Victoria sponge, and smiled as Gran’s eyes lit up.
‘Alison, that looks magnificent. I shall have to visit more often. Though I can’t help but wish you’d sold this house as you said you were going to. You could have bought a lovely modern one with all the money. This house looks so dated. I don’t believe Betty did a thing to it for years.’
‘It is certainly in need of some TLC,’ Ali replied, pouring a cup of tea. ‘But that’ll be half the fun. We can really make it our own. We’ve already done the kitchen. I’ll show you when you’ve finished your tea. And with Pete off work, he has plenty of time to do it.’
‘They’re going to work my fingers to the bone, Mrs E,’ Pete said, rolling his eyes. ‘They’ve already told me I need to do the sitting room, Ryan’s room and Kelly’s room all before next weekend.’
‘You’d best get on with it, then, Peter. Maybe there’ll be a better feeling in this house once it’s been brought up to date. Perhaps it’ll then feel like a home.’
‘It feels like a home now,’ said Ali. ‘To us, anyway. I thought it would to you, as well, as you grew up here.’
Gran took a bite of the cake Ali had passed her, and chewed it thoughtfully before answering. ‘I’m sorry, Alison. I hate this house. I always have done, ever since…ever since I left. I didn’t have a very happy childhood. My father was a tyrant; I think I told you that before. I couldn’t wait to leave home. I’d have gone into digs if I could, but then I met my lovely Roy and he took me away from here. I was so happy to move out. Things happened here. Things you don’t know about and I don’t want to talk about.’
‘Ooh er,’ said Ryan. ‘Is the house haunted or something?’ Ali glared at him, and glanced at Gran. Thankfully she seemed not to have heard.
‘Why did Betty never move out?’ Ali asked, steering the conversation onto a safer track.
‘She never married. And when our parents died, as the eldest she inherited the house and stayed on. She was still in her twenties then. She’d always been Father’s favourite in any case. Whatever he said, she would agree with. That’s one reason I didn’t get on with her. She was too much like him.’
Ali nodded. Gran had told her before about her bully of a father. She watched as the old lady ate the rest of her cake. Gran was looking tired and frail today. Ali hoped it hadn’t all been too much for her—the trip out, the shock of finding out where they’d moved to, and the emotional upheaval of visiting this house. She cursed herself inwardly. She should never have kept it secret. She should have discussed their move with Gran before, rather than springing it on her like this. ‘I’m sorry, Gran, for not telling you we were moving here. I should have done. If you’re not comfortable here, next time we’ll take you out to a café somewhere, or we’ll visit you at The Beeches.’
Gran smiled weakly. ‘Don’t you worry, Alison, dear. I’m just a little tired today. Another slice of that lovely cake might help perk me up a little. And it is lovely to see you all. I’ll get used to the idea of you living here, I’m sure. It’s time I moved on and forgot about it all. It was all so long ago, after all.’
‘Forgot what, Great-gran?’ asked Kelly.
‘Just—the way things were back then. The war. Everything that happened. Ah, thank you, Alison.’ She tucked into her second slice of cake, as Pete began chatting about his plans to knock down the coal shed at the back of the house and rebuild it as a utility room.
‘What do you think your gran meant, about things that happened here?’ asked Pete, as they sat together watching TV later that evening.
Ali shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I feel so bad about the whole thing, springing that surprise on her like that. I should have thought it through a bit more.’
‘You weren’t to know. She’d never said before that she hated this house, had she? Not even after Betty died and you told her you’d inherited it.’
‘No. But I think I said that we’d just sell it straight away. Now I can’t help but wonder what happened here that made her hate the house so much.’
‘You’ll have to ask her. Maybe she’ll talk about it when she’s away from here.’
‘I’d be afraid of upsetting her. She looked quite unwell by the time we took her back to The Beeches. I’m worried about her, Pete.’
He hugged her. ‘She’s a tough old bird, your gran. She was just a bit tired, that’s all. And probably it’s just the memories of her bullying father that makes her hate the house. I doubt there’s anything more sinister than that.’
Ali leaned her head on his shoulder. He was probably right. But she was concerned about Gran. She hadn’t been on good form at all today.
January 1944
Joan made her way back into the dance hall to look for Mags and the others.
‘There you are. We wondered where you’d got to,’ Mags said, clasping Joan’s hands. ‘I was scared you’d got caught up in that fight.’
‘What fight? I was in the ladies’ room. Oh, Mags, I’ve done something very silly.’ Joan felt her eyes well up with tears.
But Mags had turned her attention away. ‘Oh look, there’s that Canadian airman. They’ve pulled him off the boy. Looks like he came off worse anyway—that’ll be quite a shiner he’s got there. He started it. Did you see? He just went for that poor boy with glasses, totally unprovoked, from what I could see. Joanie, did you see any of the fight?’
‘No, not at all. Mags, I think I’d like to go home now,’ said Joan, trying to hide behind her sister so that Freddie would not see her. He certainly did look a bit of a mess. She hoped the other boy was all right.
Mags pulled a face. ‘Aw, Joan, I’m not ready to go yet. Things are just beginning to get lively. What’s happened? You seemed to be enjoying yourself earlier. Weren’t you dancing—oh, you were dancing with that Canadian who was in the fight!’
‘You stay, Mags. I’m going home.’
‘On your own?’
‘I’ll
