“No. I’ve been looking online this week but everything in London is so expensive.”
“I can ask around if you like, see if anyone has a spare room to rent?”
“Thanks, but I’m not sure how many people want a flatmate with a baby in tow.”
“The council might be able to help you if you don’t have anywhere to live. Especially given you’re pregnant, they might be able to—”
Dylan was interrupted by the appearance of Mrs.Stokes on the stairs. He and Libby both jumped up.
“Oh, I remember that place; it was fancy,” Mrs.Stokes was saying with a laugh as she reached the bottom of the steps.
“Ah, there you both are,” Frank said when he appeared behind her. “We’ve had such fun reminiscing about the good old days.”
“That’s great,” Libby said, feeling relief rush through herbody. She glanced at Dylan and saw the same hopeful expression reflected back at her.
“I could chat to Frank all day,” the woman said, her eyes glowing. “But sadly I’ve got to go and visit my husband; he’s in a care home and I go to see him most days.”
The bus pulled up and they all disembarked, calling thanks to the driver. Once the bus had pulled off, Libby and Dylan held back while Frank and Mrs.Stokes said their good-byes.
“Well, it was lovely to chat to you, Frank,” she said.
“The pleasure was all mine.” He reached out and took her hand. “Thanks once again for agreeing to meet me.”
“Not at all. You’ve got my number now, so let’s do this again soon.”
They smiled at each other, and then Frank released her hand.
“Good-bye.”
The elderly lady turned and made her way down the road. Libby, Frank, and Dylan watched her go. Only once she was well out of earshot did Libby turn to Frank.
“Well?”
“Ah, dear Libby, thank you so much for all your help.”
“So itwasher, then?” Libby grasped his arm. “That’s amazing, Frank. I can’t believe we actually found her!”
He gave a small, sad smile. “No. No, I’m afraid it wasn’t her.”
CHAPTER
29
PEGGY
Well, yesterday turned out to be an eventful day, and not in the way I was expecting.
I told you that I was going to meet that solicitor man David had set up about my power of attorney? Well, that turned out to be dull as ditchwater. I went to his office in town, which wasn’t anywhere near as fancy as I’d hoped. They gave me a cup of tea but it tasted like rat’s piss, and there weren’t any biscuits, not even digestives, which I thought was pretty poor. He explained how it all works, which I knew, of course, from when we did it for you. So frankly, I’m not sure why David wanted me to see him, but anything to make my boy happy.
Anyway, the real excitement came on the bus home.
I caught the 88 at New Cavendish Street, and it was quite busy but I managed to get my favorite seat, back behind the wheelchair area. So I’m sitting there, minding my own business, when we get to the top of Haymarket and this posh-looking lady gets on with a pram. It’s one of those big, fancy contraptions that fit two kids in, a baby at the bottom and atoddler on top, and she’s got to park this tank in the wheelchair spot. Well, let me tell you, she made a complete hash out of it. She was huffing and puffing, trying to push it in the wrong way, but it was never going to fit. I watched her for a minute or two, but it was too painful, so eventually I had to pipe up and tell her she was doing it wrong.
Well, you should have seen the look on her face.
She turns to me, her eyes all screwed up like I’m something the cat dragged in, and in the most hoity-toity voice, she says, “I know how to do it, thank you very much.”
Can you believe the cheek of it?
