I’d thought about that long and hard. Did she not want us any more? Or was it just too painful to see us get married and start our lives together when her fairy tale had fallen apart with Bill’s death? Did she need a fresh start, a clean break? Had she forgotten what we’d all meant to one another? Or was it our wedding in particular that was a problem for her? In the end, I didn’t go, and I stopped talking about her so much. When she came up in conversation, it was usually in conjunction with Bill, with the four of us, and it was as if she stopped being her own entity altogether.
And now, more than sixty years later, am I going to go there with these women I’ve met who seem so fearless? I know I won’t find her there, that nobody really stays put for that long in London, or really anywhere, but we might find a clue, something to lead us closer to her. Am I ready for that? Have I forgiven her, for disappearing?
By the time Julie bustles in, singing an Abba song, I’ve made my mind up.
‘I’ve found it,’ I tell her.
‘Dot’s London address?’
‘Yes.’ I hold up the address book as if it’s some kind of proof.
She squeals. I can’t get over how invested in this she seems. What does it matter to her? Is it just human curiosity? It seems like more than that.
‘Let’s have a look. Hmm, I’ll bring the Tube map up in a bit and plan the route. When would you like to go?’
I’m thrown. I knew she’d suggest going there, but I was thinking about it as something we’d do at some point in the future, and now she’s asking me when, and I don’t know what to say.
‘Next week?’ she asks. ‘I could take a day off.’
‘Perhaps,’ I say. ‘Let me think about it.’
She laughs. ‘You’ve had sixty-odd years, Mabel. Let’s not waste any more!’
And it’s ridiculous, I know, but I’m not sure I’m ready.
When Kirsty turns up for Olly, Julie opens the door to her and the first thing she mentions is the address.
‘Have you looked at it on Google Streetview?’ Kirsty asks.
I don’t know what that is, but once Kirsty’s got Dotty out of the buggy she gets her telephone out and taps in the address Julie shows her and before I know it she’s holding up the screen to me and I’m looking at a row of shops.
‘Must be a flat above a shop,’ she says.
I think hard, try to remember whether Dot’s mum said anything about this sister of hers and where she lived, or whether Dot ever mentioned her aunt and uncle who lived in London, but there’s nothing. Is my memory failing me, or is it just that there are so many years, so many trivial conversations and ordinary days piled up now that it’s impossible to store them all?
‘Are you going?’ Kirsty asks.
‘That’s the plan, although Mabel’s stalling a bit,’ Julie says, touching my shoulder affectionately to show she means no harm. ‘Cup of tea, Kirsty?’
‘Oh, yes please, if you’re making one.’
When Julie’s back in the kitchen, whistling as the kettle comes to the boil, Kirsty turns to me. She’s on the sofa, dressed in an immaculate navy-blue jumpsuit. Dotty’s on her lap, and their eyes are serious.
‘What’s holding you back? I thought you wanted to find Dot?’
‘Do you think we really might? Find her, I mean?’
‘Well, I think we’ve got a good chance, if she’s still…’
‘Alive?’
‘Yes. So if you don’t want to, or you’re not sure, maybe we should stop, or at least pause.’
‘I do want to,’ I say. ‘It’s just been such a long time, and I don’t know why she left, or whether she was angry with me for something.’
Kirsty studies me. She cups Dotty’s feet in her palms. There’s something so natural about the two of them together, the way Kirsty knows what her daughter needs and the way Dotty feels secure in her mother’s arms. Is that the way it is for all mothers? I want to tell her I’ve noticed it, but I don’t know whether it would mean anything, coming from someone who isn’t a mother.
‘How did you know you wanted to have a baby?’ I ask.
She’s a bit thrown by the change of topic but she recovers well. ‘I’m not sure, really. I’d reached my thirties and I’d always thought I would do it, and then I met Ben and he seemed ready, and it just all fell into place, really.’
‘And are you glad you did it?’
She smiles, covers Dotty’s ears. ‘Most of the time.’
And I find that I’m smiling, too. When I lost friends of mine, friends my age, to motherhood, I was bitter about it. It seemed unfair that they were all following a path I didn’t want to go down, and I was left on my own with Arthur, who wanted to go down it too. But now that it’s all so many years behind me, I’m finding there’s a joy in being around a mother and her child. In seeing how they operate together, how they love.
‘I’ve always imagined Dot without children, like me. What if I find her, and she’s nothing like what I’ve always thought?’
Kirsty gives that some thought, doesn’t rush into an answer, and I appreciate that. Julie comes in with the tea, and then she’s gone again, saying something about tidying the kitchen, though it was fairly clean when I made my breakfast. It’s quiet in the front room, both of us sipping our tea, Kirsty making sure to keep hers away from Dotty’s grasp. It goes on so long I think she must have forgotten what I asked.
‘I think no one is really who you think they are, even if they’ve been in your life the whole time,’ she says, eventually.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, I think we all have secrets, and things we’re ashamed of, and things we exaggerate because they show us in a better light. What if Dot had children, or six husbands, or ran away with the circus? So what? She’ll still be Dot.’
She will, I think. However she looks and whatever she’s done with her life, she’ll still be Dot. And I’ll still want to hear all about it, and see whether her eyes still dance when she’s telling a joke, or whether the years have knocked some of the life out of her.
‘Julie,’ I call.
‘Yes, Mabel?’ She appears in the doorway so quickly I wonder whether she’s been listening in.
‘I think we should go next week, like you said. If you have the time.’
‘Absolutely,’ she says. ‘That’s great news.’
‘Right then,’ Kirsty says, standing and lifting Dotty into the air until she chuckles. ‘Let’s go for a walk, shall we, little miss?’
Olly comes trotting through from the back room, and Kirsty reaches for his lead.
17
If Julie notices that I’ve made an effort, she doesn’t make a big thing of it, and I’m grateful. I’ve been awake since five, going over the way the day might play out. I’ve tried three different outfits on, settling on a skirt and blouse I bought for a wedding a few years back, teamed with a bright yellow cardigan. I know it doesn’t really matter what I wear, that today isn’t going to be the day that we find her, but there’s something pushing against my chest from the inside and I just knew I wanted to look my best.