‘It doesn’t matter, Mum. They kept it together for her. Two generations of that family did that.’
‘They probably had lodgers in.’
‘It doesn’t matter. Honestly, it doesn’t. Her stuff was locked away. And they weren’t interested in it.’
‘What stuff? Her camera stuff?’
‘Everything she had.’
She went quiet and he could hear the years over the phone and all the dismay of her unspoken life. ‘Maybe sometime we can sit down and talk,’ he said. ‘Just you and me, Mum. It’s going to be just us when this is all over.’
‘I’d like that,’ she said.
‘And we’re going to be fine.’
She cried very quietly into the phone and he just let her cry and said there was all the time in the world. When she stopped crying some of the old hardness came back and he saw her as a person who had always been bullied by the powerful stories that surrounded her and diminished her. ‘I suppose you’ve been treated to my mother and father’s great love story,’ she said.
‘It’s not just about them,’ he said. ‘They’ve had their turn. And we’ll see my gran through this time, but we’ll do it together, okay?’
‘Did something happen to you in the army, Luke?’
‘We all have bad things to answer for. I’ve seen some evil and I might have done some, too. But you learn to forgive. You can even learn to forgive yourself. And I believe Gran would say that if she could.’
‘I’m no angel,’ she said. ‘None of us is.’
‘We’re a family,’ Luke said. ‘Just a family. Sheila’s people are a family but so are we. Let’s do what we can.’
They just breathed for a moment into their phones and then Alice sighed, as if the practical world called to her.
‘We put Mum’s furniture in storage,’ she said. ‘The boxes too and the suitcases from the bathroom. The lady next door’s been really great. She did it all with us.’
‘How is Maureen?’ he asked.
‘Oh, she’s fine,’ Alice said. ‘Has all her Christmas cards ready to post. Already! She said you can’t be too early with things like that. Christmas, would you credit it? The presents all wrapped and sitting in a bag by the front door. She loves it. She loves all the drama. “Families!” she says. “Families!” One minute she’s looking forward to seeing them at Christmas, getting the train, and the next minute she can’t wait until it’s all over. Oh, but she makes me laugh. I was just saying to Gordon: you can’t keep up with people. You may as well not even try because it’s different every day and you never know about people’s lives, do you?’
‘I’m glad she helped, though.’
‘Oh, she was brilliant.’
‘That’s good.’
‘The warden, too. They all pitched in.’
‘You could run a war, Mum.’
‘That’ll be the day. They wouldn’t want the likes of me running up and down the place.’
‘I’ve seen worse.’
Neither spoke for a moment and it was easy to wait and to think and let things settle. Alice sighed.
‘Do you think she senses what’s happening?’
‘No,’ he said, ‘but I’ll tell her eventually. I just want to give her this time. A bit of time down here. A day or two.’
‘Blackpool was always her favourite,’ Alice said, and Luke’s
heart went out to her. He could hear the hurt, the nervousness, fading into relief. It was somehow easier now for her to talk and he knew she wanted to say more. ‘She never really wanted children. Her life had been held back enough. She wanted him. And Blackpool was the place where she hoped it would all come together.’
‘I’m sorry, mum.’
‘Ah, well, Luke. It’s over now. And I’m glad you’re there with her.
‘You’re here.’
Luke drove to the Regal Cafe and found Anne sitting at a corner table with the women. He hadn’t known it before, but his gran obviously liked women’s company and had missed it — the girls at the Menier Camp, her aunts in Glasgow, the neighbour Maureen. She was laughing with Sheila and her sister when he came in and she touched the clip in her hair when she saw him and she looked up at the coffee machine. ‘We were just on about Woolworth’s,’ Sheila said. ‘Your gran mentioned it and we were just saying there was nothing left of Woolworth’s nowadays. Harriet used to have a Saturday job there, didn’t you, Hats?’
‘I got fat on the Pick ’n’ Mix,’ she said.
Luke paid the bill. He turned to smile at Anne and the two sisters. ‘I want you all to come in the car,’ he said.
‘Fab,’ said Sheila. ‘Are you taking us for a drive or something?’
‘I want to take you to the Fleetwood Marine.’
‘Is there something on?’
Luke said it was just a wee outing — nice for Anne and it wasn’t far. And so they drove up the coast and passed the factory for Fisherman’s Friends. ‘That’s very nice,’ Anne said. ‘The sweeties.’
‘I could never stomach them,’ Sheila said. Then she pointed
out the changes, new houses and spots where things had been demolished or done up. They came to a place close to the beach, an art deco building that seemed brilliant and white against the green hill behind. They got out and Anne took Luke’s arm as they walked over the car park.
‘I know it here,’ she said.
Luke smiled. ‘Do you now?’
They walked into the foyer. Luke didn’t know why he felt as if a season was over. There was something new about her, and he admired how confidently she walked on the blue carpet, the look on her face and the feeling of her arm inside his.
‘I danced here,’ she said.
The print gets perfect with dodging and burning. Conceal this part to make it lighter if you like, and this corner, this bright place in the picture, expose it for longer, my love, and after it goes dark we can go to bed. All will be well. Come here, Harry. I waited up. This is your home tonight.
The girls looked around. They didn’t know about Anne’s pictures taken here once upon a time. They just thought it was a treat to see the place in the daytime like this. ‘I could tell you a few stories,’ Sheila said with her give-all laugh. ‘We used to come here to raves in the 1980s and the building would be packed to the rafters. Don’t get me started.’ There were posters up for dance shows and comedians.
‘Palm trees,’ Anne said.
This is your home tonight.
She touched a pillar on their way along and was delighted with it and when her grandson leaned over and kissed her cheek she felt sure they’d spent years together. There was nothing left to be afraid of and the sky was blue as they came outside and put
down their bags by a signpost. The arrow pointed to Cleveleys and Blackpool, the sand was dark brown and the sun took them by surprise. Sheila lifted Anne’s hand and then her sister took the other one and they led her all the way down to the water. Luke hung back by the wall and looked down at Anne and the women together in the wind. Their scarves were billowing around them and they shouted out when Anne’s came off and blew into the air, the scarf going higher, the girls laughing as it stretched up and a hand reached out for the sun.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
The author thanks Abdul Aziz Froutan and colleagues in Afghanistan, as well as members of the Royal Irish Regiment, who have been answering his questions since he began
The Illuminations
in 2010. Thanks also to Yaddo, and to Mary O’Connor and the keepers of the Joseph Mulholland Archive at McMaster University in Hamilton, Ontario, where he studied the papers of the photographer Margaret Watkins.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Andrew O’Hagan is one of his generation’s most exciting and most serious chroniclers of contemporary Britain and the part it plays in the world. He has twice been nominated for the Man Booker Prize. He was voted one of