Lottie looked back over her shoulder and her feet slowed on the stairs. She knew the time to say a final goodbye was near. Alex set the record player up on the dressing table and she gave him the LP. She went to the bed taking Gran’s hand in hers, it was so cold. Lottie swallowed. ‘Hello, Gran. We thought we’d bring some music up to you.’

The rich tones of Nat King Cole’s voice filled the room with him singing ‘Unforgettable’. Gramps arrived and Lottie stood. ‘Shall I give you both some time alone?’

Gramps nodded, and Alex waited for her by the door. He took her hand as they walked downstairs and straight out into the garden. The music floated down through the open window and Alex pulled her into his arms and they danced. Being this close it was easy to stop thinking about Gran, her mother and what she knew. Resting her head on his shoulder, she could forget everything and just remember how good they had been together.

The song changed and the tempo was more upbeat. Alex picked up his pace but didn’t let go of her. As they spun around, he whispered in her ear, ‘You handled your mother well.’

‘By avoiding her question.’

He nodded. ‘It wouldn’t help her.’

‘I think you’re right.’ She tilted her head to the side and looked at him closely, loving the way the green in his eyes blended with the grey.

He pulled her closer as they turned. ‘You don’t sound certain.’

‘The truth is important for her and not knowing it will eat at her.’

‘Only if she finds out there’s anything else to know.’

‘She’s good at finding things out.’

He chuckled. ‘This is true but sadly I don’t think your grandmother will be around for much longer so there is very little chance for her to discover anything.’

Lottie sighed. Her mother would go ballistic is she knew what Gran claimed to have done. As it was, Lottie wanted to know why Gran had killed . . .’him’.

‘You’ve gone all serious.’

‘Just thinking.’

‘This worries me.’

She shook her head. ‘Don’t be – after all, it’s my family that’s messed up.’

‘True, but I do care.’ He stopped dancing.

‘Thank you.’ She looked up at him and his glance met hers. Once he wouldn’t have hesitated. He would have kissed her and that was exactly what she wanted this moment as his head lowered closer to hers. But she and Alex, as a couple, were history – so she stepped away. ‘I’ll just go and check on them.’ She couldn’t go back, and her future was solo like her mother. It was safer.

56. Joan

56

Joan

4 August 1962, 9.00 p.m.