'h.e.l.lo.'

'h.e.l.lo. Is this Louise Delmar?'

'Speaking.'

'This is Daniel from the Salvation Army. I have good news for you.'

I felt my heartbeat quicken as I listened to what he had to say. When I'd spoken to him earlier, he'd laid out the way things worked. He'd warned me that if the person being sought was tracked down, their whereabouts would not be disclosed unless they'd agreed. That was a given and not up for negotiation. I'd explained to him who I was and briefly, the circ.u.mstances of losing touch with my mother. I also told him that I was an actress, about to star in a new musical in the West End. I thought that might sway things a little. Now he was on the other end of my phone, telling me that he had found my mother and that she was willing to meet me. I could hardly believe my luck.

'Where?' I asked him breathlessly. 'And when?'

'She suggested meeting in the coffee lounge at Selfridge's possibly tomorrow afternoon about three o'clock, but I can give you a telephone number and you can alter the arrangements if you need to. She has reverted to her maiden name by the way. Jean Sowerby.'

'Oh, really? Thanks. I will ring, just in case, so if you give me the number I'll make a note of it. Thank you so much, Daniel.' He gave me the number and I added it to my contacts. As I shoved my phone back in my bag, I looked up at Mark, who was staring at me enquiringly.

'That sounded intriguing,' he said. 'And from the way your eyes are shining, I'd guess it was good news.'

'The best!' I told him what the caller had said and the tentative arrangements that had been made. 'I'll ring her this afternoon,' I told him. 'I have to admit that I feel quite nervous now that it's really happening.'

'Do you want me to come with you?' Mark offered. 'I mean, I'd keep out of the way while you meet and talk, but I could be there for you just in case it doesn't work out.'

'Oh no, everything will be fine. I don't need any moral support,' I told him. Seeing his disappointed face I reached out and touched his arm. 'But thank you, Mark. It's kind of you to offer.' I really did feel touched at his thoughtfulness. I was sorry I'd been so mean to him; after all, I knew he really did care for me and he could be so useful in the months to come, once he got rid of that grasping sister of his.

Our food arrived and we tucked in. Mark told me that he intended to take the Ferrari down to Bournemouth when we opened on tour. 'It'll be much more convenient than catching trains,' he said. 'I was sort of hoping you'd join me. I'd appreciate your company.'

'That would be lovely,' I said, trying not to let him see how excited I was at the thought of being driven everywhere in Mark's glamorous car.

He looked at me with his puppy-dog eyes over his plate of pasta. 'Do I take it that I'm forgiven, then?'

After the exciting phone call I'd just had, I would have forgiven the Devil himself. I leaned across the table and kissed his cheek. 'Of course I forgive you,' I whispered in my s.e.xiest voice. 'How could I not?'

Back at the bedsit I took out my phone and clicked in the number Daniel had given me, holding my breath. In just a few seconds I'd actually be speaking to the mother I'd lost all those years ago.

'h.e.l.lo.'

I gasped at the sound of her voice. 'Oh er h.e.l.lo. Ms Sowerby?'

'Speaking. Who is this?'

'It's Louise. Your your daughter.'

There was a pause at the other end, then she said, 'h.e.l.lo, Louise. Fancy hearing from you. It was a real surprise when the chap from the Sally Army rang.'

'Yes, I expect it was.' I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. 'He said you'd suggested meeting tomorrow afternoon at Selfridge's.'

'That's right, but if it isn't convenient ...'

'No! I mean, yes, it is. I'm busy with rehearsals but I'm free in the afternoon. Shall we say three o'clock?'

'That would be fine. See you there, then.'

'Wait! How will I recognize you?' I asked. 'And you me of course. I've grown a bit since you last saw me.'

'Oh yes, of course. Best if I wait for you in the coffee lounge,' she said. 'I'll be wearing a royal-blue coat.'

I'll wear a black suit,' I told her. 'You used to have dark hair,' I went on tentatively. 'Is it still?'

'Blonde now,' she said quickly. 'You?'

'Blonde too.' I laughed shakily. 'See you at three, then ...' I found suddenly that I had no idea what to call her. I couldn't quite bring myself to call her 'Mum' after all these years.

'Yeah see you.' She hung up.

I was there at five to three the next afternoon. I went up to the coffee lounge and looked around. She clearly hadn't arrived. I took a corner table and watched from a distance. For some reason, I wanted to see what she looked like before I made myself known to her. People came and went but so far no one in a royal-blue coat. I began to think she'd chickened out. Then at ten past three she arrived. I was shocked. She was nothing like the woman I remembered. She was short shorter than I remembered her. She was quite plump too. Her hair was longish and bleached a bra.s.sy shade of blonde that spoke of home hairdressing. She looked thoroughly down at heel. Could this really be my mother? But there was no one else around in a royal-blue coat. As I watched she stood looking round nervously. I hadn't the heart to keep her waiting any longer so I took a deep breath and stood up. Catching her eye, I smiled. She hurried towards me.

'Louise?'

I nodded. 'Good to see you. Please, sit down.'

Now that I was closer I could see that life had not been kind to her. Her face was very lined and her upper lip had the creased look of the heavy smoker. I ordered a pot of tea and cakes and when the waitress had gone, I smiled at her.

'Well I hardly know where to begin.'

'I hear you're a big star,' she said enthusiastically. 'Who'd have thought it?'

I shook my head. 'I'm not quite a star yet but the show I'm about to take the leading part in is destined for success.'

'How wonderful.' She paused. 'How how's your dad?'

I frowned. Of course, she wouldn't know. 'Dad died a few years ago,' I told her. 'He married again after your divorce. Her name is Susan and they have a daughter, Karen.'

She showed no emotion at all. 'I married again too,' she said. 'But it was a disaster.'

'You weren't happy?'

'Happy?' She gave a short laugh. 'Gotta be joking! He was bad through and through treated me something rotten but eventually the law caught up with him. He was caught aggravated burglary, the verdict was. He battered a poor bloke half to death in his own home and this time he went to prison. The only good thing to come out of it was my boy, Steven Steve.'

I stared at her. 'So I have a...?'

'Half-brother,' she said. She looked at me. 'I suppose when your dad died, this Susan woman came in for everything, did she?'

'No. He left me the house and everything in it,' I told her. 'He left Susan and Karen provided for, of course, but I think I came in for the bulk of his estate because he felt I'd had a raw deal.'

Her eyes lowered. 'A raw deal, eh? Well, he would say that and I suppose it was true in a way.' She looked up at me. 'But believe me, Louise, no one will ever know what it cost me to walk out and leave you behind. But I had no money and nowhere to go so I had no choice. Frank loved you and you had a comfortable home with him. You were better off where you were. I was only thinking of you.'

I shook my head. 'It's all water under the bridge now.'

'I didn't forget you,' she said. 'I sent you birthday cards for a few years but I never got no replies so I reckoned he didn't let you see them. Oh, well...' She applied herself to the cake on her plate. 'Well, now that you've found me, we must stay in touch,' she said at last.

'Tell me about Steve,' I prompted.

She looked away. 'Maybe I will, eventually. We'll see.' I was about to pursue the matter when she suddenly changed the subject. 'When does your show open which theatre?'

'We're going on tour first so I can't tell you that yet,' I told her. 'At the moment we're still rehearsing at St Mary's Church Hall in Stoke Newington and I've taken a temporary flat nearby, but as soon as I know where we open, I'll send you tickets for the opening night.'

'Ooh!' She smiled. 'Fancy me being the mum of a big star.'

I watched her as she helped herself to another cake. 'Your husband is he still alive?' I asked.

She shrugged. 'I s'pose so. I've divorced him since he's been banged up and reverted to my maiden name. I daresay he's spittin' blood about that. Still, there's not a lot he can do about it in there.'

I felt a stab of alarm. 'How long is he in for?'

She shrugged. 'He got a seven stretch but they only serve about half o'that, don't they? He'll be due for release in a few months' time, but my Steve'll see I don't come to no harm if he comes round lookin' for revenge.'

'Aren't you worried?'

'No. I'll soon get the police onto him again if he starts threatening me. He won't want to go down for another stretch, will he?' She helped herself to another cake and devoured it with relish. 'Those folks at the Sally Army are really clever, you know,' she remarked through a mouthful of cake. 'Tracking me down through three different names.'

By half past four, all the cakes had disappeared. She looked at me. 'I'm sorry but I'll have to go now, Louise,' she said. 'It's been lovely meeting you. Maybe we could do this again.'

'Perhaps I could come to your home next time,' I suggested.

'Yeah.' She looked fl.u.s.tered. 'Well, maybe sometime, we'll see.'

'I'll give you my mobile number.' I scribbled it down on the corner of a paper napkin and pa.s.sed it across the table to her.

She took it from me. 'What about your address?' she asked.

'Well, as I said, it's only temporary at the moment. I had to give up my flat in Earl's Court,' I said. 'Do you know Stoke Newington?' To my relief she shook her head. 'Well, as I told you, we're off on the pre-West End tour soon so I took this room in Mason Street. It's not very nice but it's quite close to the rehearsal venue. I won't be there after next week though, but if you give me your address I'll keep in touch.'

She looked shifty. 'Oh well, they've recently altered the postcode and I can't remember it at the moment but I'll ring and let you know.'

I paid the bill and we travelled down together on the escalator. 'Are you heading for the Undergound like me?' I asked as we stood in the store entrance. She shook her head.

'I've got a couple of things to do yet.' She looked me in the eye. 'Louise, I suppose you couldn't lend me a few quid, could you, love? I'll pay you back next time I see you.'

I was taken aback. 'Oh! Yes, OK. How much?'

'A couple of hundred will do,' she said calmly.

I was stunned. I'd been expecting her to ask for a fiver a tenner at most; something to tide her over till next pension day and I had to stop myself from gasping with shock. 'I don't carry that much money around with me,' I told her.

'A cheque will do.'

Once more her coolness shook me. I took out my cheque-book and managed to write a cheque balancing the book on my handbag. I tore it out and gave it to her. 'I hope I haven't given you the wrong impression,' I told her. 'Dad did leave me well provided for but I've had to put money into this production and it's left me quite short.'

She smiled derisively as though she didn't believe a word of it. 'Yeah, but no doubt you'll get it all back. You'll be quids in once the show opens in the West End, won't you?' She put the cheque away in her handbag and looked across the road. 'Oh, there's my bus. I'll have to run. See you soon, Louise and thanks.'

I watched as she scuttled across the road. What was I to make of all that? The afternoon had turned out to be far from what I'd expected.

Chapter Sixteen.

Karen picked her mother up in the car on the afternoon of Good Friday.

'Thank goodness we've got a couple of weeks off now,' she said as they drove. 'What with making Easter cards and decorating eggs, it's been pretty hectic these last couple of weeks.'

It didn't sound all that onerous to Susan, who sat beside her daughter quietly. She didn't feel much like talking after yesterday afternoon and she wished Karen would shut up for a minute. Her constant chatter was grating on her nerves like a steel file.

Sensing her mother's unease, Karen glanced at her. 'Everything all right, Mum?'

'Perfectly, thank you.'

'You seem a bit well, not quite yourself.'

Susan turned to look at her daughter. 'We can't all be chatterboxes.'

'Oh! Is that how I seem? I'm sorry.'

Susan bit her lip. 'Oh, Karen, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that the way it came out.'

'What is it, Mum? I can tell something's upset you.'

Susan shook her head. 'It's nothing. I've got a bit of a headache, that's all.'

'Oh, well, a nice cup of tea and a couple of paracetamol will soon put that right. We're nearly home now.'

'Has your Dutch girl gone home?'

'Yes. She went yesterday. She's only away for a week. Simon's looking after Peter this afternoon.'

'I can't wait to see him. It seems ages.'

Karen flushed guiltily. It was true that she hadn't taken Peter to visit his grandmother for weeks. There just hadn't been the time. 'You always seemed to be so busy with Ted,' she said defensively.

Susan turned to look out of the window so that Karen wouldn't see the quick tears that sprang to her eyes. One spilled over to run down her cheek and she fumbled in her handbag for a tissue. Karen looked at her.

'I knew it! There is something wrong, isn't there, Mum?' She pulled the car over and switched off the engine. 'Tell me now, before we get home.'

Susan sniffed and put the tissue away. 'I'm just being silly really,' she muttered. 'It's just that yesterday I had a sudden urge to go and look at the allotment. All the seeds I planted would be needing attention and I ...'

'You saw Ted?' Karen prompted.