When Wishes Come True

by Joan Jonker

Genres: Family Life; Siblings; Friendship; World War II; Sagas

Synopsis

A young mother is left abandoned, yet finds strength in the busy streets and communities of Liverpool. Joan Jonker's heart-warming saga, When Wishes Come True, is guaranteed to bring tears of sadness and joy to readers everywhere. Perfect for fans of Katie Flynn and Cathy Sharp. Evelyn Wilkinson married Charles Lister-Sinclair just hours before he left for war, unaware that she would never see him again and that she was already carrying his child. When Amelia is born, Charles's parents refuse to accept that she is their grandchild, so, penniless and afraid, Evelyn moves to the backstreets of Liverpool where she dreams of escaping. Meanwhile, as little Milly grows up she discovers that a world of happiness lies on her doorstep. What readers are saying about When Wishes Come True : 'What a great book to read, couldn't read it fast enough as I was gripped from the very first page' 'I've read lots of Joan Jonker's books. This is one that surpasses all others. Full of love, sorrow, comedy and emotions '

Release date: February 2, 2012

Publisher: Headline

Print pages: 516

Sample

‘Just look at this one, walking up the street as though she owned it.’ Aggie Gordon was standing on the bottom step of her two-up-two-down house, talking to her next-door neighbour, Rita Wells, when she saw a familiar figure turn into the street. ‘Miss Hoity-Toity … she gets on my bleeding nerves!’

‘Ah, come on, Aggie, she doesn’t do us any harm,’ Rita said. ‘I don’t know why yer feel so strongly about her, she can’t help it if she’s down on her luck. She’s in the same boat as all of us, without two pennies to rub together.’

Aggie pulled a face and folded her arms under her bosom. To say she was well endowed in that department would be understating it, she was enormous. ‘Aye, but we don’t all walk down the street with our noses in the air, do we? Stuck-up madam! She wants taking down a peg or two. And if she ever looks sideways at me, I’ll clock her one.’

Rita turned her head to see a slim, attractive young woman who walked with a straight back and an air of confidence. She’d lived in one of the houses opposite Rita and Aggie for a few years now, but hadn’t made any friends. Her seven-year-old daughter Amelia wasn’t allowed to play with the other children in the street either, which caused most of the neighbours to say the woman was a stuck-up cow who thought she was too good for the likes of them. ‘If she wants to keep herself to herself, Aggie, then that’s up to her, she’s not hurting anyone. It’s the young girl I feel sorry for, she hasn’t got one friend in the street. She’s a nice little thing, too!’

‘How d’yer know that when she’s not allowed to speak to anyone ’cos her bleeding mother thinks we’ve all got fleas?’ Aggie shook her head and her many chins danced. ‘Ye’re daft, you are, Rita Wells, yer never see the bad in anyone.’

‘While you, Aggie Gordon, are never happy unless yer’ve got someone to pull to pieces. Yer haven’t spoken more than ten words to Mrs Sinclair, but yer can’t stand the sight of her. I’m glad I’m a friend of yours, ’cos I’d sure as hell hate to be an enemy.’

Aggie’s head wagged from side to side, sending her layers of chins flying in all directions. ‘And why haven’t I spoken more than ten words to Her Ladyship? Because every time I see her she looks down her nose at me, as though I’m a bad smell.’

‘That’s probably because she knows ye’re always pulling her to pieces. Yer’ve got a voice like a foghorn, Aggie, they should use you when there’s a fog over the Mersey to guide the ships in. Unless Mrs Sinclair is deaf, she must hear yer calling her fit to burn and wonder why. The poor woman lost her husband in the war so yer should have some pity for her, having to bring her daughter up on her own. She’s never done you or me no harm, so for heaven’s sake leave the woman alone and pick on someone who can stick up for herself.’ Rita chuckled. ‘Me, for instance, ’cos I could hit yer back.’

Aggie’s laughter was loud. ‘You! I could knock yer into the middle of next week with just one of me fingers.’

At that moment the woman who was the target of Aggie’s criticism happened to turn her head before inserting her key into the lock. When she saw Rita nod her head, she nodded briefly in return before opening the door and stepping inside. Once the door was closed behind her, Evelyn Sinclair leaned back against it and sighed. How she hated this mean little house in the mean little street, where most of the neighbours were coarse and vulgar. Particularly the little fat woman opposite, whose language was that of a fishwife. The only person in the street she ever had any conversation with was the woman next door, Bessie Maudsley, and on the odd occasion she had exchanged nods with Rita Wells opposite.

Evelyn pushed herself away from the door and hung her coat on a hook in the tiny hall before entering the living room. There, she pulled out one of the wooden chairs from the table and sat down. With her chin cupped in her hands, she took a deep sigh. Just looking around the room filled her with despair. There were no mirrors on the walls, no pictures, and no ornaments on the bare sideboard. When she went into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea, she would find the pantry almost bare. It wasn’t because she was lazy, and spent her days gossiping like a lot of the women in the street. She had found herself a job in the office of a firm of solicitors in the city centre, and worked there five hours for four days a week. But her job was really a junior’s: running errands, making cups of tea and filing the correspondence of the two solicitors who shared the practice. The wages were low, barely enough to pay the rent on this house and buy what food she could to feed herself and Amelia. New clothes were out of the question, and a fire in the grate a luxury.

Evelyn dropped her head into her hands. What a far cry this was from what she had been used to. Then, as she often did, she closed her eyes and let her mind go back over the years to when she was nineteen. She was an only child, and lived with her parents in an eight-roomed house. Her father ruled her and her mother with a rod of iron. She wasn’t allowed to invite friends to the house, nor accept invitations to visit theirs. But on her nineteenth birthday her father reluctantly agreed that she could go to an afternoon tea dance to celebrate, on the understanding that she was to refuse any requests from strange men to take to the dance floor. She had thought how stupid it sounded to say she could go to a dance but must not take part, but daren’t voice her thoughts or she would have been sent up to her room and told to stay there until Father said she could come down for her meal. So she promised she would not dance, and that she would be home by six o’clock. She would have promised him anything, just to get out of the house and be able to act her age.

Her office friend, Gwen, had loving parents, and as a result was more sure of herself and more outgoing. When they met up that Saturday afternoon, she linked Evelyn’s arm and grinned. ‘First day of freedom, eh?’

‘Hardly a day, Gwen, it’s two o’clock now and I’ve to be home by six.’

‘You’ll not set any hearts on fire in that dress, Eve, it’s positively old maiden auntish! Have you nothing more glamorous in your wardrobe?’

Evelyn shook her head. ‘You don’t know my father, he’s so old-fashioned. I’m lucky to be here at all, never mind worrying about my dress.’

‘Then I’m going to put powder, rouge and lipstick on your face, and I’ll do something with your hair. Otherwise you’ll never be noticed.’

So the Evelyn who walked out of the ladies’ powder room of the Adelphi Hotel was very different from the one who’d walked in. Not that she wouldn’t have attracted many a roving eye without the make-up because she was tall and slim with dark brown hair, enormous brown eyes and a flawless complexion. But whether it was the make-up or not, the friends barely had time to sit at one of the small round tables before a man appeared in front of them, his hand outstretched, and addressed Evelyn.

‘May I have this dance?’

She looked scared. She was about to stutter that she had never been to a dance before when Gwen said, ‘Of course you may, my friend would be delighted. Go along, Evelyn, I will be all right, I can see some of my friends waving to me.’

So Evelyn, for the first time in her life, found herself in the arms of a man. And what a handsome man he was! Tall, slim, well dressed, with jet black hair and laughing eyes that were constantly changing colour from hazel to dark green. When he spoke his voice was that of a well-educated person and very pleasing to the ear. ‘Are you always so shy? You don’t have to be afraid of me, I won’t eat you.’

‘I’m not afraid of you, I’m afraid of standing on your toes! You see, I’ve never been to a dance before and I’m nervous in case I make a fool of myself.’

‘No one as beautiful as you could possibly make a fool of themself.’

And that was how their romance began. After the dance was over and Evelyn could see Gwen was with company, she agreed when her partner asked her to sit with him at another table. She may as well make the most of this opportunity, she thought, there may never be another. When he asked she told him her name, where she lived, and about the father who was very strict but who provided a nice comfortable home for her and her mother. Then the man, oozing confidence and looking at her with more than interest in his eyes, told her his name was Charles Lister-Sinclair. With a smile, he said, ‘I work for my father who is far from strict and keeps me in the lap of luxury. He is also very generous in allowing me as much free time as I wish. So I hope to see much more of you in the very near future.’

Because she was smitten, Evelyn took a chance and arranged to meet him in her lunch hour the following Monday. She had never dared defy her father before, but she did so want to see Charles again, and if she had to tell lies to do so, then so be it. When she met up with Gwen in the cloakroom later, she was so excited the words poured from her mouth. ‘I’m meeting him on Monday, Gwen, and he’s taking me to lunch. I find it unbelievable I’ve met such a handsome and charming man on my first day of freedom!’

Gwen raised her eyebrows. ‘You do know who his father is, don’t you?’

‘No, except that Charles said his father spoiled him.’

‘You are so innocent, Eve! Don’t you know anything about the social life of this city? Charles is one of the most sought-after, eligible young men in Liverpool. There are literally dozens of mothers chasing him for their daughters. He would be quite a catch for any girl, with his good looks and charming manner, quite apart from the fact that his father is one of the richest men in the city.’

Evelyn gaped. ‘He never said! Except that his father was good to him.’

‘No, he wouldn’t brag about his wealth, that’s what is so refreshing about him. Not like some of the young bloods I’ve met at parties who think because their families are well heeled they should be welcome in any virgin’s bed.’ Gwen grinned when she saw the look of horror on her friend’s face. ‘Don’t worry, Charles isn’t like that, he’s a perfect gentleman. And if you can hook him, Eve, then you’ll be the envy of every young female of marriageable age, and that includes myself.’

‘I didn’t know you knew him? You never said when he came over to ask me to dance.’

‘I’ve seen him around many times, even been to parties where he’s been a guest, but I wouldn’t profess to know him well enough to introduce him. Anyway, it’s time for you and me to go our separate ways, so I’ll say “Sweet dreams”, and I shall look forward to hearing what happens on Monday. I presume you will not be telling your father?’

‘You presume right, Gwen, I’m not going to say a word. If I did, I wouldn’t be allowed out of the house.’

Sitting at the dining table later with her mother and father, Evelyn was praying that her father would question her about the dance. But it was her mother who, unknowingly, came to her aid. ‘Were there many at the Adeplhi, my dear? Do tell us what type of person freqents these places?’

Evelyn nodded. ‘Yes, quite a few people, Mother, and some of the dresses on the young ladies were absolutely delightful.’ She saw the familiar frown crease her father’s forehead and hoped her little plan would work. ‘I only knew Gwen, of course, but she did introduce me to one of her male friends.’ She turned her head. ‘I wonder if you know the Lister-Sinclairs, Father? Gwen said they are a very well-known family.’

The frown disappeared like magic, and his eyes widened in surprise as he lowered his knife and fork. ‘I don’t know them personally, but everyone locally has heard the name. They are a very well-known family, wealthy and much respected in the business world. Cyril Lister-Sinclair has many interests, and is probably the richest man in the city of Liverpool.’ He coughed behind one curled fist before asking, ‘And the son was at the dance, you say?’

‘Yes, Father, and seemed very personable.’ Evelyn could tell her father had taken the bait. ‘Quite friendly with many of the people there.’

Herbert Wilkinson looked across at his wife. ‘Perhaps I have been doing our daughter an injustice, Gertrude, by not allowing her to attend these dances. Don’t you agree?’

‘Oh, yes, Herbert, now we know the cream of local society attends them, we can rest assured she is in good company. Would you like to go next Saturday? If your father gives his permission, of course.’

Evelyn’s plan was working beautifully. She had bargained on this being the reaction from her parents, who were both tight with money and would be delighted if their daughter married a rich man. ‘Oh, I don’t think I want to go again, Mother, I would feel like a poor relation. You see, I couldn’t compete with the fashionable dresses and high-heeled silver shoes all the ladies were wearing. I really felt like a wallflower in this drab dress, and wouldn’t want to go through that again.’

‘Oh, I’m sure that, under the circumstances, and because we want you to mix in the right circles, your father would give you an allowance to buy suitable clothes. We can’t have our daughter looking less attractive than the other ladies. Aren’t I right, Herbert, when I say you will give Evelyn an allowance for some new clothing?’

‘Of course, my dear.’ Herbert Wilkinson was what you would call a sombre man who seldom smiled, and had never been known to laugh aloud. But right now he was positively beaming. He had a good job and was well paid, but he was a greedy man; not content with being well off, he wanted to be wealthy. And now, perhaps, through his daughter and her newfound connections, he could well find himself on the way to riches and social acceptance. ‘When we’ve finished our meal we can discuss what is needed so that Evelyn can mingle with the best in society as an equal.’

True to his word, if against his better judgement, Herbert handed over four white five-pound notes. That it pained him to do so was obvious from the length of time he held on to them before Evelyn finally whipped them out of his hand. ‘I need at least two dresses, Father, I’d be ashamed to wear the same one week after week. Then there are silk stockings, shoes, a band to wear around my forehead and some jewellery …’

‘Your mother has plenty of jewellery you could make use of. It’s only lying in a box on her dressing table, it would be an absolute waste of money to buy more.’

‘I’ll see, Father, when I go to the dance on Saturday. I will take more notice of what is in fashion then, but meanwhile I can get advice from Gwen. She is very up-to-date on fashions as she attends many dances and parties.’

And so Evelyn’s social life began. She had never known such freedom and, dressed to kill, was thoroughly enjoying herself. Wherever she went, Charles Lister-Sinclair went too. They saw each other every day and visited each other’s houses. Herbert Wilkinson and his wife made a great fuss of Charles, but on visiting the Lister-Sinclairs, Evelyn found that while Charles’ father was friendly with her, his mother was distant and didn’t even try to hide the fact that she wasn’t pleased with her son’s choice. When Evelyn mentioned this to Charles, he laughed and said any girl he took home would not be made welcome by his mother who doted on him. Her only child, she wanted to keep Charles under her wing until he was older, and only then would she find a suitable wife for him. Evelyn continued to be pleasant to Mrs Lister-Sinclair. It didn’t bother her that her friendliness wasn’t reciprocated because she knew Charles was besotted with her, as she was with him.

A rattling against a pane of glass in the window brought Evelyn down to earth. It took her a few seconds to get her thoughts together, then she jumped from her chair. This was her daughter home from school and she hadn’t even thought about what they were going to have for a meal. It wouldn’t be much because there was nothing in the house.

‘I’ve been knocking for ages, Mother.’ The seven-year-old girl hadn’t inherited many of her mother’s features, but she had learned to copy her expressions and mannerisms. ‘I was beginning to think you had gone shopping or were working late.’

‘I was tired after a busy day, Amelia, and must have dropped off to sleep. I’ve nothing in for our tea because all I have in my purse is a sixpenny piece, and that has to last until I get my wages on Friday.’

Amelia knew they were poor, her mother was always telling her so, and it made the young girl too old for her years. She didn’t worry, though, because all the girls in her class at school were poor, and some of the boys in the street had no shoes on their feet. ‘I could go for a pennyworth of chips, Mother, and we could make sandwiches with them. We could do the same tomorrow, that way your sixpence would last until Friday.’

‘You need bread to make sandwiches, dear.’ Somewhere at the back of Evelyn’s mind a little voice was telling her she shouldn’t burden her young daughter with their money worries. But another little voice, a trouble-maker, was saying that if Amelia had never been born then Evelyn would still be living a life of luxury, being waited on hand and foot by servants. And it was this voice that made her so bitter inside because her life had been reduced to living in this two-up-two-down house, with no money for the fine clothes she was used to. Not even enough to buy food or provide ha’pennies for the gas meter. So she found it hard to feel any sympathy for the little girl who wouldn’t remember the good times, and who, if she was allowed, would be happy to associate with the common-as-muck people in their street.

‘You could try the baker’s, they usually sell it off cheap when it gets near to closing time. It’s probably bread from the day before, and stale, but it would be filling and better than nothing. Perhaps you could get a small loaf for a penny, and with a pennyworth of chips we could make sandwiches and keep the hunger at bay.’

‘Ooh, that’s a good idea, Mother, I’ll go there first.’

Evelyn passed the small silver coin over. ‘Keep tight hold of that, in case you lose it. And if any of the women in this street are in the baker’s, don’t let them hear you asking if they have any stale bread. Come out of the shop and wait outside until they’ve gone. I don’t want the whole street to know our business.’

‘Yes, Mother.’ Amelia placed the silver coin in the centre of her palm and closed her fingers over it. ‘I’ll keep tight hold of it. And if there’s no one in the shop that I know, I’ll give the woman behind the counter a big smile when I ask if they’ve any stale bread. You never know, Mother, I might get a large loaf for a penny if I’m nice to her.’

‘Make sure you speak correctly, and don’t run down the street, it isn’t ladylike.’

‘Yes, Mother.’ The girl turned towards the door. She was mixed up inside because the other children at school made fun of her for talking so ‘posh’. She didn’t know about the children in this street because she wasn’t allowed to play with them.

As soon as the door closed on her daughter, Evelyn held her head between her two hands and she went back to her memories of days gone by.

It was 1914 when war with Germany broke out, and Charles wanted to join the Army right away. He said it was the duty of every able-bodied man to fight in defence of his country. He wouldn’t be persuaded by Evelyn not to be hasty, but much to her relief Mr Lister-Sinclair pulled a few strings and Charles was classed as being involved in important war work. He wasn’t happy about it, thinking he would be thought a coward, but gave in to his father’s wishes and his mother’s tears. So he and Evelyn continued to enjoy dances, theatres and eating out in the best hotels. Charles still had feelings of guilt, though, and every time he saw a man in uniform felt like a coward. He couldn’t live with that. So when the war had been raging for eighteen months, without telling his parents first, he enlisted in the Army. With his education and background, he entered as a Captain and was sent for training in a camp just north of London so was able to get home regularly. Then, after a few months, he came home on a three-day pass to tell his parents and Evelyn that talk in the camp was rife that they were being sent overseas very soon, and he didn’t know when he would see them again.

Cyril Lister-Sinclair showed no emotion, but there was fear in his heart for his son. Every day there was news of thousands upon thousands of young men being killed. As for Charles’ mother, she wailed uncontrollably, and as there was nothing Charles could tell her that would calm her, he took Evelyn’s hand and they stole away to find somewhere quiet and peaceful where they could have some privacy. This was impossible in either of their homes, so Charles suggested they take his car and drive out to one of the nearby country lanes. There was little petrol in the car because it was very hard to come by, but he felt sure that what he had would take them a few miles.

Dusk was falling as they sat with their arms entwined, wondering if they would ever see each other again. Charles rained kisses on Evelyn’s face and promised to write to her every day, but that was little comfort to her, and tears trickled slowly down her face. ‘Don’t cry, my dearest darling.’ Charles pulled her closer. With her body pressed against his, he could feel a stirring inside him. He tried to resist the urge, but need took him beyond the point of no return. Evelyn was taken by surprise at first and tried to pull away, but the thought that in a few days he would be going off to war caused her to cease her resistance. If she spurned him now, he would go away thinking she didn’t love him, and she couldn’t bear that.

When his passion was spent, Charles was full of remorse. ‘Oh, I am so sorry, my dearest, what have I done to you? I have disgraced myself and am so ashamed I throw myself on your mercy. You will forgive me? Remember, I love you so much I couldn’t help myself. But we’ll get married on my first leave, I promise. In fact, I travelled up today with another officer and he told me he was getting married tomorrow by special dispensation. Apparently if a soldier is being sent overseas, he and his fiancée can be married by special licence …’

‘But I can’t get married so quickly,’ Evelyn protested. ‘I haven’t a wedding dress to get married in!’

‘My darling sweetheart, you don’t need a wedding dress to be married in a registry office! All you need are two witnesses, and I’m sure that will be no problem.’ Charles was warming to the idea. ‘I’ll drive you home now and ask your father for your hand in marriage. If he gives his consent, I’ll go and tell my parents. My mother will probably have a fit of the vapours and faint, and I don’t think Father will be too pleased. I’m sure both of them would like a big, extravagant, high-society wedding for their only child, but I’ll remind them there is a war on and many people are doing things they wouldn’t normally do. I’ll bring them around, I always do, then I’ll meet you in the city centre tomorrow and buy you the engagement and wedding ring of your choice.’

Evelyn’s parents were delighted. What a feather in their cap for their daughter to have landed such a good catch! And they didn’t mind at all that the wedding was going to be a registry office affair, for, as Charles said, there was a war on. When their future son-in-law had left to break the news to his own parents, Mr Wilkinson was so full of good will towards his daughter he pulled her chair nearer the grate and, taking the tongs from the companion set, placed three extra pieces of coal on the fire before rubbing his hands with glee.

However, the news wasn’t so well received at the Lister-Sinclairs’ home. As Charles had predicted, his mother reacted by falling back in her chair and lifting the back of one hand to her forehead. Her other hand was holding a fine, soft linen handkerchief edged with lace, which she waved at her husband while in a tearful voice demanding her bottle of sal volatile fearing she would faint. With a deep sigh, Cyril rang for the maid. He loved his wife, but did wish she had some backbone instead of always behaving like a child. He wasn’t too pleased with the news his son had brought either, having always thought that when his only child married it would be the wedding of the year in their social circle. But the sight of Charles looking so handsome in his Captain’s uniform, and the knowledge that in a few days his beloved son could be facing the enemy, was enough for him to keep his views to himself.

‘Father, would you make some enquiries on how to go about obtaining a dispensation and special licence?’ Charles asked. ‘You’re so much better at getting things done quickly than I am. And I’m meeting Evelyn in town tomorrow to buy the rings.’

Cyril nodded. ‘I’ll make a few phone calls in the morning and get what information I can. But you will only have two full days, and I can’t imagine having the necessary papers completed in that time.’

‘Two days and a half, Father. My train doesn’t leave until one o’clock on Thursday.’ Both men turned their heads at the tinkling of the silver bell which Mrs Lister-Sinclair kept on her side table. They watched the maid enter the room, and heard her being told her mistress would like to retire as she was feeling quite light-headed. When his wife had left the room, leaning heavily on the maid’s arm and sobbing as though her heart was breaking, Cyril asked if there was anything else he could do to help his son.

Charles leaned forward, resting his clasped hands on his knees. Gazing down at the floor, it was a few seconds before he spoke. ‘This is frightfully forward of me, Father, and I would understand if you refused. But I would be so grateful if you would buy a house for Evelyn and me, as a wedding present. While I’m away she could be making it into a home for when the war is over and I’m back with her again. I really would like to know we had a place of our own, it would give me something to look forward to.’

Cyril was thoughtful for a few seconds, then sighed. This was a far cry from what he’d wanted for his son. ‘I know there are one or two suitable houses empty in Princes Avenue. This confounded war has caused many people to move to the country. If that’s what you want, I will certainly set the wheels in motion. You know I love you dearly and would move heaven and earth to make you happy. Everything I have will be yours eventually, and I’ll be so proud when you take over the reins.’

‘Thank you, Father, you are very kind and I admire and love you in return. When the time comes for you to retire – which I trust will not be for a very long while – I will do my best to make you proud of me. But if meanwhile you could settle Evelyn in a house, and look after her welfare, it would take a weight off my shoulders.’

Again Cyril was thoughtful for a few seconds before saying, ‘I will purchase a house, furnish it, and make sure Evelyn has everything she needs. But I do think it would be best if I had my name put on the deeds. Only as a precaution, in case you came home and found you didn’t like the house. You would have no ties to the property then and could look for another you think you would be happy in, and where you would like to raise your children.’

Charles lowered his head to hide the flush of guilt. ‘Thank you, Father.’

So the following day, while Charles and Evelyn strolled down Church Street towards the jeweller’s, their arms linked and their eyes gazing lovingly at each other, Cyril Lister-Sinclair was trying to arrange their wedding. After many phone calls, and taking advantage of his standing in the city, he managed to extract promises that the papers needed would be ready at five-thirty on Wednesday. Then, making a telephone call to the registry office, he was told they were booked solid for the whole week. However, when he mentioned his name and used a little persuasion they agreed to fit his son and fiancée in at half-past-eleven on the Thursday morning. No amount of coaxing would make the registrar’s secretary change her mind about this. There were so many servicemen wanting to be married, she had to be fair to them all. Mr Lister-Sinclair was lucky she’d managed to fit his son in at all.

Charles didn’t let his disappointment show, for he knew he was lucky being able to marry before going back to camp. But it would give them only an hour and a half in which to get married and then head for the train station where he would catch the one o’clock train. There was no time to invite friends or even let them know, and both sets of parents declined to attend on the grounds that the whole affair was too rushed. Charles’ mother said wild horses wouldn’t drag her there because it was so degrading that a son of hers was being married in a registry office – oh, the shame of it! And when the Wilkinsons heard the Lister-Sinclairs were not attending, they made the same excuse. If Charles’ parents had been going, they would have jumped at the chance of meeting the man who would soon be almos