Nana nodded apologetically. ‘You’re right.’ She smiled at Olivia. ‘What would you like to do with the rest of your time with us?’

Olivia sighed, grateful that the conversation concerning her father was at an end. ‘How about lunch at Lyons …’ she paused, ‘… please tell me Lyons is still there?’

Her grandmother nodded. ‘It was one of the lucky ones.’

Olivia gathered the empty plates. ‘Do they still do those lovely fruit tartlets?’

Pops grinned. ‘They certainly do, and they’re just as good as they ever were.’

‘Then Lyons it is!’

Olivia’s time with her grandparents had been memorable. They had done all the things they used to do when she was a child, going for strolls through Sefton Park, feeding the ducks, and taking the tram to Princes Park for a picnic. They had even taken her for a wander around the city, showing her where Blacklers and Lewis’s new stores could be found, and in the evenings they had played cribbage and rummy, and Nana’s favourite, draughts, whilst they reminisced on the things they used to do with her mother before she had become unwell. The day trips to New Brighton fair, and the open-air swimming pool, or further afield to Southport where they ate cockles as they walked barefoot along the beach which stretched as far as the eye could see. Olivia enjoyed reliving these good times because none of them included her father, who had always insisted that he was too busy with work to go with them.

A few days later it was with a heavy heart that Olivia boarded the train which would take her on the first leg of her journey. She leaned out of the window as her grandmother clutched her husband’s hand.

‘Don’t forget to write!’ called Nana. ‘And make sure you keep your eye on the stops – you don’t want to get off in the wrong place!’

‘She’s old enough to look after herself, Matilda,’ said Pops, and turned his attention back to Olivia as the train wheels gained traction. ‘Ta-ra, queen!’

Giving them a wobbly smile, Olivia waved back. ‘I will! Love you!’

Nana was just calling back that she loved Olivia too, when the train driver blew the whistle, causing her to start.

They waved until their granddaughter had disappeared from view.

Tucking her hand into the crook of her husband’s elbow, Matilda told Ivor, ‘We need to find my old diaries in the attic.’

He pulled a disgruntled face. ‘Why? Just so you can see what William told you back in the day? I don’t see as it matters what he says, the man doesn’t know how to tell the truth. It wouldn’t surprise me if he believes his own lies.’

Her eyes flashed up at him. ‘So you think he’s lying?’

Her husband gave a half-shrug. ‘I can’t see why, although if he were, it would be a real humdinger!’

She tutted irritably. ‘I reckon you’re too lazy to go into the attic to check.’