Page 104 of Lessons in Life

‘Needlecraft, we called it when I started. The girls made their aprons, covers for their cookery baskets and even summer dresses. Did quite a bit of teaching cooking in domestic science as well. Then it all changed to CDT…’

‘CDT?’ I grinned. ‘Gosh, I remember that – craft, design and technology.’

‘…and after that it wasn’t my thing.’ Janice smiled. ‘Ended up teaching infants, for my sins.’

‘On the phone you sounded as if you’d discovered something exciting, Jo?’ I said, finally managing to rein in Boris, before sitting down on the one chair devoid of papers.

‘Well, not me. Mum here…’

‘Oh?’

‘So,’ Janice started, ‘before I decided to train as a teacher, I was a mender at Hudson’s – the huge textile mill at the far end of the village? All apartments now, of course.’

I nodded and she carried on.

‘I did my O levels at night – in those days you could do a Cert Ed at teacher training college with just five O levels, especially if you were classed a mature student.’

‘My sister, Jess, is in charge up at Hudson House now it’s a care home,’ I said. ‘You know, the fabulous great house the Hudsons built years ago? Which the Sattar brothers are about to knock down?’

‘I’d heard that. Along with St Mede’s?’ Janice sniffed crossly. ‘And yes, I know your sister – I’ve met her up there a couple of times when I’ve been visiting.’

‘Oh? You know it? My mum’s always up there too at the moment,’ I said. ‘Loves the garden.’

‘I know. I’ve met Lisa there as well.’ Janice was obviously trying to get on with her story.

‘Really? Gosh, small world.’

Janice was silent for a few seconds. ‘The thing is, love,’ she began, ‘and, you know, Eloise made me promise not to tell anyone…’

‘Eloise?’

‘Eloise Hudson. Who I go to visit up at Hudson House. She’s the daughter of Ralph Hudson who was in charge at Hudson’s until Eloise’s brothers Brian, and then Michael, took over when he ran off.’

‘Whoran off?’ I shook my head, trying to work out who was who.

‘Mr Ralph, Eloise’s father. Bit of a scandal. He’d been having an affair with Mr Brian’s secretary for a year or so – what was she called?’ Janice paused, closing her eyes to think. ‘Linda, Linda Munro, that was it. She was a right dolly bird! We menders and weavers all had a good idea although we never let on to Eloise. Linda was pregnant and they both just upped and left. Went off to South Africa where Ralph had contacts – started another textile business, I believe.’

‘Mum, get on to Eloise; tell Robyn what you told me.’ Jo, obviously listening from the kitchen, was back with mugs of coffee.

‘Once I heard Eloise was back in Beddingfield – she and that husband of hers, Christopher Howard, lived out towards north Leeds, so I’m not sure why he brought her back here – mind you, not easy finding a spot for someone with early-onset dementia… anyway, Bex, who also works up there, lives next door to me and she happened to mention that Eloise was a resident. So, I started to visit her just before Christmas.’

I shrugged, smiling. ‘OK?’

‘I blame myself, really.’ Janice pulled a face.

‘For what?’

‘For encouraging her to come out on the town with us when we were seventeen and eighteen. She used to come down to my house – we lived near St Mede’s when I was a kid – and borrow my clothes…’

‘Nana Norma was a whizz with a needle,’ Jo put in.

‘…and I’d do her hair and her make-up,’ Janice continued. ‘Hang on, I’ve been up in the loft this morning when I knew you were coming. I’ve some photos. And letters she sent me.’ Janice reached for a brown envelope, passing over several photographs of a beautiful blonde in a short dress. ‘That’s Eloise Hudson. So, the thing is, I’m wondering if Eloise could be your grandmother.’

‘Sorry?’ My head shot up in shock.

‘Eloise fell in love with one of the mill workers; his family was from the Mirpur area of Pakistan. Junayd Sattar came to work at Hudson’s when he was just fifteen and he’d been there four or five years when Eloise started temping at the mill. Educated himself at night school like me. He was very bright. And exceptionally handsome into the bargain. They were both brilliant photographers… they got together.’

I shook my head, trying to make sense of what Janice was saying. ‘Sattar? Any relation of the Sattar brothers?’

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