Memories Are Made of This by June Francis Page A

‘Damn!’ he groaned, rubbing the sore spot. ‘Did you have to shout so loud?’
    â€˜Were you asleep?’
    â€˜Almost,’ he lied, yawning loudly. ‘What do you want?’
    â€˜To talk to you about something our Jeanette’s just told me.’
    â€˜Is it important?’
    â€˜I think so, but if you’d rather I left you alone . . .’
    There was a note in her voice that caused him to roll off the bed and open the door. ‘No, it’s OK. Come in.’
    Hester entered the room and rested her hands on the foot of the bed. ‘Jeanette went to see that priest!’
    â€˜What priest?’
    â€˜The priest who was at the chippy!’
    Sam stared at her. ‘I suppose she’s hoping she can make contact with that bloke who was hit in the face?’
    â€˜Too right she is,’ said Hester.
    â€˜So what did he have to say?’
    â€˜Apparently the bloke was in a rush that evening to see his father who was seriously ill in hospital.’
    â€˜Do we have his name?’
    â€˜David Jones.’
    Sam’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Now there’s a name that’s two a penny. So when is she planning on seeing him?’
    â€˜She’s not because he didn’t put an address on his letter to the priest. Apparently his father died and he’s helping his mother move house.’ Hester smiled. ‘Interesting, though, that his name is David Jones. The couple I stayed with when I was evacuated were called Jones. If you remember I wrote to Myra for a while but then she stopped writing. I’ve always regretted losing touch with her. She had a nephew called David. He called a couple of times at the house, so it’s possible it’s the same person.’
    â€˜So what are you planning on doing? Writing to Myra Jones to see if, by the strangest coincidence, her nephew is Jeanette’s David Jones?’
    Hester’s face fell. ‘You think it’s a daft idea?’
    â€˜I didn’t say that.’
    She gnawed on her lip. ‘I don’t want to be a nuisance.’
    â€˜Why should you think you’d be a nuisance?’
    â€˜Aunt Ethel said that was why Myra stopped writing – because she couldn’t be bothered with me. Do you
think—?’
    â€˜Do I think the old cow was jealous of your relationship with her? It wouldn’t surprise me if she destroyed Myra’s letters to stop you writing to her,’ said Sam.
    For a moment Hester was too choked to speak, and then she managed to say, ‘I’ve no proof.’
    â€˜What’s that matter? Write to the woman and see what she has to say.’
    Hester took a deep breath and there was a militant light in her eyes. ‘I will!’
    â€˜Good on you, girl,’ said Sam, smiling.
    â€˜I won’t mention it to Jeanette unless I hear back. She told me she’s going to the Grafton on Saturday with that friend of hers, Peggy McGrath.’
    â€˜The one that was really the cause of all the trouble in the chippy?’ said Sam, shaking his head.
    â€˜Should we try and put a stop to her going?’
    Sam hesitated. ‘No. She’s rebellious enough as it is, and we don’t want her to think we’re siding with Aunt Ethel against her. She’s told you what she’s planning on doing, so let’s be happy with that and hope she’s got enough common sense to stay out of trouble this time.’
    â€˜Jeannie, is this yours?’ Mrs Cross held up the oiled cloth bag containing a frock and sensible low-heeled shoes.
    Jeanette looked up from wiping a table top. ‘Yes, Mrs Cross. I hope you don’t mind my leaving it in the back, only I’m going dancing this evening at the Grafton and I didn’t want to go home first.’
    A young man over by the jukebox glanced her way and for a moment she thought he was going to speak, but then he looked away and put a coin in the slot and the next moment the