dream again, she would be more sensible. Why had she tried to run away from the boy with the golden-brown eyes? He had seemed to be telling her that if she wanted to know about the past, then she must go back, whatever that might mean. Drowsily, she looked around her once more and remembered Mrs Brocklehurst saying that Louella had put a lot of care into the making of this room. It just goes to show how much my mammy loves me, not that I ever doubted it for one moment, Lottie thought sleepily. I’ll tell her the truth about Rhyl because I’m sure she’ll understand, and now I’m going back to sleep and I’ll try as hard as ever I can to dream myself back to that boy and find out what he meant.
But dreams are tricksy, fickle things which do not simply come because you want them to. Lottie dreamed about Rhyl and the golden sands, and her own small feet, seen through the glittering water, but she could not feel the sun on her shoulders or the water washing around them, and when she picked up the little pink shells, she could not feel them in the palm of her hand. Nevertheless, it was a good dream, and when she woke she had only the haziest recollection of what the boy with the golden-brown eyes had said. She knew it was something about going back, but it no longer seemed important.
When she went downstairs, her mother and Max were sitting at the kitchen table eating porridge and planning a trip to Prince’s Park because the weather was hot and sunny, and the theatre did not have a matinée on Fridays. ‘Ooh, can I ask Kenny to come with us?’ Lottie begged. ‘We had such a good time in Rhyl.’ She handed over the sticks of rock she had purchased. ‘We gave two of our pennies each to the Punch and Judy man. He was ever so funny, Louella. We ought to have a Punch and Judy man at the theatre. He said: “Squashages? Who’s going to cook these lovely squashages for my breakfast?” And then Dog Toby grabbed the sausages and Mr Punch pulled one end and Dog Toby pulled the other, and the string of sausages broke and they both tumbled off the stage and into the audience. I picked Dog Toby up. He looked soft and cuddly but he’s really made of wood. Then we went to the rock factory . . .’
Lottie thought her mother had stiffened when she had mentioned Rhyl, but as she chattered on she saw Louella relax and when she had described in detail how the young ladies in the rock factory created sticks of the sweetmeat simply by pulling, she was pretty sure that her mother would never again try to stop her visiting Rhyl.
‘Well I never! I don’t know where I got the impression that you were going to Llandudno, but I reckon Rhyl’s more fun for youngsters,’ Louella said when her daughter had finished her recital. ‘Did you see anyone you knew besides kids and teachers from your school?’
‘Norra soul,’ Lottie said cheerfully and with complete truthfulness, for the boy might have thought he knew her but she most definitely had not known him. ‘Mind you, we didn’t really go into the town. We were on the beach, the prom and the pier, and we had our high tea in the Seagull restaurant, so I don’t suppose there were many local people around, just holidaymakers. Where did we live when we were in Rhyl, Louella? Were we there for ages? Baz said something about a circus . . .’
Louella looked startled, then nodded slowly. ‘Yes, we were with a circus for a little while but we were mostly at the Pavilion theatre. And don’t say “norra”, darling; it’s common. We were in Rhyl for a couple of years, I suppose, and before that we were in several different places. I doubt you’d remember them, even if you hadn’t had the accident, because small kids don’t remember much, do they?’
‘I don’t know; I can’t remember,’ Lottie said, giggling. ‘But the doctor thought I’d remember one day, didn’t he? And you’ve helped me an awful lot, teaching me the dances and the songs and that, what I’d forgotten, and
But dreams are tricksy, fickle things which do not simply come because you want them to. Lottie dreamed about Rhyl and the golden sands, and her own small feet, seen through the glittering water, but she could not feel the sun on her shoulders or the water washing around them, and when she picked up the little pink shells, she could not feel them in the palm of her hand. Nevertheless, it was a good dream, and when she woke she had only the haziest recollection of what the boy with the golden-brown eyes had said. She knew it was something about going back, but it no longer seemed important.
When she went downstairs, her mother and Max were sitting at the kitchen table eating porridge and planning a trip to Prince’s Park because the weather was hot and sunny, and the theatre did not have a matinée on Fridays. ‘Ooh, can I ask Kenny to come with us?’ Lottie begged. ‘We had such a good time in Rhyl.’ She handed over the sticks of rock she had purchased. ‘We gave two of our pennies each to the Punch and Judy man. He was ever so funny, Louella. We ought to have a Punch and Judy man at the theatre. He said: “Squashages? Who’s going to cook these lovely squashages for my breakfast?” And then Dog Toby grabbed the sausages and Mr Punch pulled one end and Dog Toby pulled the other, and the string of sausages broke and they both tumbled off the stage and into the audience. I picked Dog Toby up. He looked soft and cuddly but he’s really made of wood. Then we went to the rock factory . . .’
Lottie thought her mother had stiffened when she had mentioned Rhyl, but as she chattered on she saw Louella relax and when she had described in detail how the young ladies in the rock factory created sticks of the sweetmeat simply by pulling, she was pretty sure that her mother would never again try to stop her visiting Rhyl.
‘Well I never! I don’t know where I got the impression that you were going to Llandudno, but I reckon Rhyl’s more fun for youngsters,’ Louella said when her daughter had finished her recital. ‘Did you see anyone you knew besides kids and teachers from your school?’
‘Norra soul,’ Lottie said cheerfully and with complete truthfulness, for the boy might have thought he knew her but she most definitely had not known him. ‘Mind you, we didn’t really go into the town. We were on the beach, the prom and the pier, and we had our high tea in the Seagull restaurant, so I don’t suppose there were many local people around, just holidaymakers. Where did we live when we were in Rhyl, Louella? Were we there for ages? Baz said something about a circus . . .’
Louella looked startled, then nodded slowly. ‘Yes, we were with a circus for a little while but we were mostly at the Pavilion theatre. And don’t say “norra”, darling; it’s common. We were in Rhyl for a couple of years, I suppose, and before that we were in several different places. I doubt you’d remember them, even if you hadn’t had the accident, because small kids don’t remember much, do they?’
‘I don’t know; I can’t remember,’ Lottie said, giggling. ‘But the doctor thought I’d remember one day, didn’t he? And you’ve helped me an awful lot, teaching me the dances and the songs and that, what I’d forgotten, and
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