The Girl With No Name (36 page)

‘How you doing, Char? Happy Christmas.’

Charlotte looked from Billy to Miss Everard before saying, ‘Happy Christmas, Billy... but Christmas is over.’

Billy laughed. ‘Christmas Day is, silly, but today’s Boxing Day. That’s a holiday too. We wondered if you’d like to come over to the farm for your dinner.’ He looked at Miss Everard a little uncertainly. ‘Both of you, of course. Ma said to say you was both more than welcome. I know it’s a bit snowy,’ he hurried on, ‘but it has stopped snowing now and I’ll walk you there and back.’

Charlotte turned hopeful eyes on Miss Edie, who said, ‘What a kind invitation, Billy. I’m sure Charlotte would love to come, but I’m afraid I won’t accept. Please thank your mother, but I have things I need to do here before I go back to work tomorrow.’ She turned and smiled at Charlotte’s eager face. ‘You go with Billy,’ she said, ‘but make sure you’re back here before dark. I don’t want you two wandering about in the dark and the snow. Go on upstairs and put some warmer clothes on, and I’ll find you some boots.’

When Charlotte and Billy had gone, Miss Edie sat down and squeezed another cup of tea from the pot. Going to Charing Farm for the day was just the distraction Charlotte needed, she thought. She wouldn’t have time to brood on the memories that had returned to her.

Miss Edie reread what Charlotte had written that morning and then folded the piece of paper, putting it into her pocket. She put on her coat and, finding her scarf, gloves and hat and donning her own boots, she set off to the vicarage. The snow had indeed stopped and a weak sun was filtering through the blanket of cloud, striking diamonds in the fallen snow. There were already footprints along the lane and as she reached the village green, she saw a group of children, red-nosed from the cold, building a snowman. Among them were the Dawson children and the two lads who now lived with the Bellingers. There was a great deal of laughter and shouting, and even as she watched the two older boys began to pelt each other with snowballs. As she turned in the vicarage gate, a snowball flew past her ear and she turned back to glower at the boys, but to their surprise and her own, she suddenly bent down, grabbed a handful of snow and returned fire. The boys darted out of range with shrieks of laughter and Miss Edie headed for the house.

Avril had seen her from the window and was already at the front door when Miss Edie dodged into the relative shelter of the front porch.

‘Miss Everard!’ she cried. ‘Those naughty boys! Are you wet? Come in, do!’

‘They missed me,’ Miss Edie said, laughing, but she was glad not to have got snow down the back of her neck.

Avril took her coat and then led her into the kitchen. ‘We only heat the drawing room on high days and holidays,’ she said. ‘This is the warmest place in the whole house. Sit down, do.’ She waved at a chair by the fire and Miss Edie sat down. Before Avril took the one opposite she said, ‘Can I get you anything to drink? Tea?’

‘No, thank you,’ Miss Edie said. Avril looked at her expectantly and she went on, ‘Charlotte has gone over to the Shepherds’ for lunch and so I thought I’d take the opportunity to bring you up to date.’ She took the paper out of her pocket and passed it over. Avril took it and read it through. She looked up.

‘And this is what she remembers?’

‘I did try asking a few more questions, but so far, I think, she’s remembered all she can. It’ll probably all return to her before long. Her mind must have blocked it out till now, but maybe from now on the rest will gradually come back. The thing is, I thought perhaps you could get in touch with your sister and see if she can contact the foster parents, the Federmans, and let them know where she is and that she’s all right.’

‘Yes, indeed,’ Avril agreed. ‘I’m sure Caroline could find them for us now we have an address. I don’t know where this Kemble Street is, but even if Caro doesn’t either she’ll be able to find out.’

‘I’ve suggested Charlotte write to them straight away,’ Miss Edie told her, ‘to set their minds at rest, but she hasn’t begun that letter yet. I thought she ought to do it in her own time so I haven’t pressed that. After all, we don’t know how well they all got on.’ Miss Edie had remembered the suggestion that she’d made the night before about writing to the Federmans, but she hadn’t reminded Charlotte. Suppose the foster parents wanted her to come back to them? She didn’t want to lose Charlotte just as she was getting used to sharing her life with someone who needed her.

‘You don’t think they’ll want Charlotte to go back to London, do you?’ Miss Edie voiced her fear now.

‘I wouldn’t think so,’ Avril replied, trying to sound reassuring. ‘She’d be in far more danger living in London than she’ll be in down here.’

‘Yes, that’s what I thought,’ said Miss Everard, the relief clear in her voice.

At that moment the vicar came in, shaking snow off his coat. ‘Direct hit,’ he said ruefully. ‘That Malcolm Flint’s a dead-eye shot!’ He smiled at Miss Edie and said, ‘Hallo, Miss Everard, how nice to see you. How’s Charlotte this morning?’

‘She’s doing well,’ answered Miss Edie. ‘Young Billy Shepherd came over and took her back to the farm for lunch. Just what she needed, a change of scene and something else to think about.’ She gestured to the paper Avril still held in her hand. ‘I’ve just been showing your wife what Charlotte wrote this morning.’

‘Let’s have a look.’ David held out his hand for the paper. ‘Quite a lot of information there,’ he said. ‘Only a few gaps.’

‘I thought I’d ring Caro with the information about the foster parents and see if she can find them,’ Avril said.

‘Good idea,’ David said, ‘provided Miss Everard agrees that’s the way forward. She’s Charlotte’s foster mother now.’

All the way home Miss Edie nursed those words in her heart: ‘her foster mother’. She was standing in for Charlotte’s lost mother. She was a mother. Something she never thought she’d be. A mother.

When she’d gone Avril said, ‘Well, that’s good news, isn’t it? We should be able to find her London foster parents and set their minds at rest as to where Charlotte is. Caro will be delighted.’

*

By the time Billy and Charlotte arrived at the farm the sun had broken through and the whole landscape was shining, the trees and buildings etched against the pale blue sky, the distant hills rising against the last of the clouds. It was bitterly cold and the wind that had blown away the snow clouds cut through their many layers of clothes, making them shiver.

‘Better go and tell Ma you’ve come,’ Billy said, ‘let her know it’s just you and not Miss Everard, too.’ They went to the back door and shed their boots and coats before going into the warm and welcoming kitchen.

‘Charlotte, you’ve come, my lover. Welcome. Miss Everard not coming too?’

‘No,’ answered Charlotte, ‘but she said thank you for asking her. She goes back to work tomorrow and had things to do.’

‘I understand,’ said Mrs Shepherd comfortably. She hadn’t expected that weird old stick, Miss Everard, to come all that way through the snow. Indeed, she thought, it was much better that she didn’t. It was still a holiday and she didn’t want a ghost sitting at her feast.

‘Well, lunch won’t be ready for another hour at least, so why don’t you go and have a look at they puppies?’

They went back outside and across to the stable. It was chilly over there, but Billy assured Charlotte that the hay in the dogs’ loosebox made it quite warm enough for the puppies. As soon as they closed the stable door behind them, two of the puppies came prancing over to the loosebox door to see who was there. Billy opened this door and the two of them edged inside before the curious puppies could escape. One of them was Jet, the dog Billy had already chosen for his own, but for a moment Billy ignored him and bent down to pick up the other one. He passed her over to Charlotte, who held her close, her face against the dog’s warm fur.

‘Oh, you’re beautiful,’ she cooed and was rewarded by having her face washed with a small pink tongue. Billy sat down in the hay to play with his dog and Charlotte, putting the puppy back on the ground, sat down beside him. The puppy danced forward again, darting away when Charlotte held out her hand.

‘You have to move slowly or you spook them,’ Billy said. ‘Just sit there for a moment and they’ll come to you. They’re very nosy.’

He was right and within minutes not only the original puppy came back to her, but the others, made braver by their siblings, edged closer, sniffing and snuffling at the two humans who’d invaded their world.

‘Doesn’t their mother mind them coming to us?’ wondered Charlotte, as one of the puppies attempted to clamber over her legs and fell backwards, its little legs paddling helplessly in the air.

Maisie was lying against a straw bale, watching her offspring exploring, apparently indifferent to their excursions.

Bill laughed. ‘No, she knows they’re safe enough with us. If another dog appeared, well, that’d be a different matter.’

As they sat in the hay, playing with the pups, Charlotte said, ‘I got my memory back now, a bit anyway.’

‘Have you?’ Billy didn’t sound particularly interested. ‘What you remembered then?’

‘That I’m German...’

‘Well, we
knew
that,’ Billy said, bending forward to extricate his trouser leg from Jet’s needle-sharp teeth.

‘But I’m not a Nazi, I’m a refugee. My parents have disappeared, and my brother. I think the Nazis have taken them away somewhere, but I don’t know where.’

‘That’s sad,’ Billy said, ‘but I expect you’ll find them again when we’ve won the war.’

‘Will we win?’

‘Of course we will,’ asserted Billy. ‘It may take a while, but we will win, I promise you.’ And it was clear to Charlotte that he had no doubt at all about that. It cheered her a little to hear his confidence.

‘You don’t mind that I’m German?’ she asked tentatively, almost dreading the answer.

‘Mind? No, why should I? You’re you. That’s what matters.’

At that moment the bell sounded out across the farm and reluctantly they shut the puppies into their loosebox and went back to the kitchen. Today there was only one extra hand at the dinner table, a small, quiet man whom Mrs Shepherd introduced as Ned Barnes.

‘Pity Jane’s not here,’ said John Shepherd as they sat down to the table. He turned to Charlotte. ‘She’s a nurse, you know, but couldn’t get leave for Christmas. Still, we hope she’ll be home for a couple of days before too long.’

Mrs Shepherd picked up a huge pan from the range and began to dole out piping hot bubble and squeak. The fried vegetables, well flavoured with home-grown onions, smelt wonderful, and scattered among them were chopped pieces of chicken from the previous day’s roast. Each plate was piled high and topped off with a fried egg.

As they all tucked in, Billy said, ‘Remember what you said, Dad?’

‘Said about what?’

Billy pulled a face. ‘You
know
what about.’

‘Oh, that!’ his father replied airily. ‘No, I haven’t forgotten.’

‘Well?’ Billy’s voice took on a note of frustration.

‘Well, let your dad eat his dinner,’ said his mother, but she was smiling.

‘The thing is, Charlotte,’ said Mr Shepherd as if he and Charlotte were already in the middle of a conversation. ‘I was wondering if you could help me out.’

Charlotte look across at him in surprise. ‘Please. How can I help you?’

‘I need a good home for one of my puppies and I wondered if you’d be kind enough to give her one.’

‘A puppy? For me?’ Charlotte’s face lit up with pure joy, causing everyone to laugh with her. ‘You’re giving me a puppy?’

‘If you would like one and,’ John Shepherd added seriously, ‘if Miss Everard will let you have one.’

Charlotte’s smile faded and she said, ‘This I don’t know.’

‘I will write a note to her, explaining,’ Mr Shepherd said. ‘The pup’s not quite ready to leave her mother yet, and when she is we’ll keep her for a few more weeks and get her house-trained, so that there is no problem for Miss Everard. Before you go home today come and get the letter from me.’

Charlotte was so excited that she couldn’t stop beaming. When they had finished their dinner, she and Billy went back to the stable.

‘You can have whichever of the bitches you want,’ Billy said as he opened the loosebox door.

‘Bitches? What is “bitches”?’

‘Girl dogs.’

As before, Jet pranced forward as soon as he heard Billy’s voice, and the other brave one was soon behind him. Charlotte picked her up.

‘Is this a girl dog?’ she asked.

Billy laughed. ‘Yes, she is.’

‘Then I choose her,’ said Charlotte, gathering the little dog up into her arms.

‘I think she’s already chosen you,’ Billy replied.

When they reached Blackdown House, just before it got dark, Charlotte had the note from John Shepherd safely in her pocket.

‘Don’t say anything to Miss Edie about the puppy,’ she said to Billy. ‘I will ask her later.’

Billy shrugged. ‘All right,’ he said.

‘Did you enjoy yourself?’ Miss Edie asked when the curtains were drawn against the night and they were settled by the fire.

‘Yes, it was a lovely dinner. Bubbles.’

‘Bubbles?’

‘All potatoes and vegetables.’

‘Bubble and squeak,’ laughed Miss Edie.

‘Yes, with an egg.’

‘Sounds delicious, I’m sorry I missed it. I don’t know the Shepherds, only by sight. They sound very kind.’

Now, Charlotte decided, was the moment to produce the note that was burning a hole in her pocket. Miss Edie seemed relaxed and was thinking well of Billy’s family.

‘Mr Shepherd gave me this,’ she said, extracting the letter from her pocket and handing it over.

Miss Edie saw her name on the envelope and opened it. Charlotte watched her read the short note it contained. When she looked up Miss Edie saw such hope mixed with entreaty in Charlotte’s eyes that the reservations that had come to her mind were dashed away. Charlotte needed something to love, something that would return her love unconditionally. They’d overcome the problems of having a dog as they occurred. She smiled at her charge and said, ‘What a kind offer. A dog of your own. You lucky girl!’