‘Anytime, day or night.’
‘As long as you’ve got your hearing aid switched on,’ she reminded him.
‘Yes, you’re definitely your mother’s daughter!’
Maggie wasn’t only smiling now; she was practically glowing. ‘Thanks, Dad.’ She was about to end the call but found herself returning to an obsession she hadn’t quite relinquished. ‘Before I go, could I pick your brain?’
‘You can try.’
‘Do you remember a greengrocer’s in Sedgefield called Flo’s Fruit and Veg? It would have been around in the fifties.’
Stan muttered to himself as he put his memory to the test. ‘Your mum would remember stuff like that, not me.’
Maggie wasn’t ready to give in. ‘Apparently it was owned by someone called Mrs Jackson.’
‘Ah yes, of course! You mean Flo Jackson. Her shop was somewhere on the High Street, I think.’
‘Really? You remember her?’ Maggie asked. She was surprised at how relieved she felt from the confirmation that the shop and Mrs Jackson had existed at all. Even in her most lucid state, Mrs Milton had been reluctant to give Maggie any indication that Elsa’s story was fact or fiction.
‘Vaguely. Her husband died and she ran the shop on her own for a while. She was quite lonely, as I recall. I don’t think she had any kids.’
‘Do you remember any other relatives? Or maybe a young woman staying with her in the early fifties?’ There was a flutter of excitement as Maggie considered the possibility that her dad had once met Elsa.
Stan thought a little while longer. ‘Now you’re asking. There might have been some kind of falling out with family … Could it have been a niece? No, I’m sorry, love. I probably didn’t pay enough attention at the time, let alone remember it now.’
The sound of the front door opening brought Maggie back to the present. James was home from what would be his last day at work for a whole week and he would be curious to know why his wife had started digging into Elsa’s past when she had already told him how Mrs Milton’s appearance had exorcised that particular ghost. And she didn’t have a convincing argument, not even to herself. Her only answer was that you had to be there, sitting with Elsa sixty years ago by the lake, so she preferred to avoid the debate. ‘Never mind, it doesn’t matter,’ she said.
‘Why on earth are you asking anyway?’
‘Oh, just some research,’ Maggie said. Heavy footfalls grew closer and then James was there. ‘Thanks, Dad. I’ll get James to email the scan photo to Aunt Dot so you can have the first glimpse of the baby.’
‘All right, love, and tell James I said congratulations.’
‘Yes, I’ll tell him you said congratulations and then I’ll thank him for not taking off his work boots and making a mess of my nice, clean floor.’
‘Hello, Stan!’ James called as he backed carefully out of the kitchen.
When Maggie put down the phone, she sent James upstairs to take a bath while she set to work mopping up. Fortunately for her husband, she was too distracted by the fading path that led to the past than the trail of mud down the hallway.
What sounded like a herd of elephants charged through the front door and down the hallway. With a well-developed sense of smell, they picked up a scent too delicious to resist and raced towards the kitchen.
‘We’re here!’ they screamed.
Maggie dropped the wooden spoon in her hand and it landed in the bowl of chocolate butter icing with a choreographed thud. The startled look was melodramatic as was the gasp. ‘You scared me!’
The boys laughed as they hugged her. ‘Hello, wicked stepmother,’ Liam chirped.
‘Sam, take your fingers out of that bowl,’ growled Maggie.
There was a sucking sound as the youngest of James’s sons sampled the butter icing. ‘Dee-licious!’ exclaimed the seven-year-old.
‘Can I lick the bowl when you’ve finished?’ Liam asked.
‘No, I want to.’
‘Since you’ve already had your lunch of …’ Maggie said with an analytical sniff, ‘burger and fries with way too much tomato sauce if I’m not mistaken, then you can have the bowl and two spoons to share. The cake is for later.’
‘But not until you’ve unpacked,’ James added. He had been watching from the kitchen door. ‘Now.’
‘We haven’t said hello to Harvey yet,’ Sam cried.
‘Where is he?’ Liam added.
‘I think he’s behind you,’ Maggie told them.
Harvey had watched from the sidelines but at the sound of his name, he rushed over to the boys. His years of self-discipline and training were quickly forgotten as he jumped up and began to lick them ferociously. Sam’s chocolate-flavoured fingers were particularly irresistible.
‘Come on, let Maggie finish her baking,’ James said. ‘You can take Harvey upstairs with you – but do not feed him.’
Sam and Liam muttered but didn’t object. No sooner had they left the kitchen than the troop of elephants resumed their charge and headed up the stairs, closely followed by the lighter but no-less-excited footfalls of Harvey.
‘How was the drive?’ Maggie asked when the noise had died down.
James had driven only as far as a service station near Birmingham where his sons were waiting to be handed over by Carolyn and her new husband.
‘Far easier than travelling all the way to Portsmouth and back,’ he said. ‘All I need to do now is convince Carolyn to do this every time.’
James and his ex-wife had found an uneasy friendship, which occasionally allowed for compromise, although Carolyn would always have the upper hand because James would travel to the ends of the earth to see his sons and she knew it.
‘Have the boys mentioned the baby at all?’ Maggie asked.
‘Briefly. They wanted to know if you were fat yet.’
Maggie laughed. ‘I hope you told them I’m not.’
James stepped towards her and slid his hand over her bump. ‘It is starting to show a little.’
She placed her hand over his and a smile reached her lips before the frown could crease her brow. Her baby was further ahead with its own preparations than she was. ‘So what else did they say?’
‘Not much really,’ James said, trying to disguise the anxiety in his voice. Liam and Sam had been excited when first told the news but that had been a month ago and the novelty had quickly worn off.
‘That’s not necessarily a bad thing. It means they don’t feel threatened.’
‘I hope so, Maggie. They spent most of the journey talking about their new puppy.’
‘I should have known they’d opt for a Labrador in the end. So when will they get it?’
‘The pups haven’t even been born yet but the plan is to pick up Hartley sometime in the summer,’ James said.
‘Hartley?’
‘So they say. Very imaginative, don’t you think?’
Maggie’s aim was perfect as she smacked James’s hand, which was poised over the mixing bowl. ‘You’re as bad as the boys,’ she scolded. ‘Why don’t you go and help them unpack. I need to finish this cake while I’ve still got enough butter icing to cover it.’