Facing the World (11 page)

She decided to keep Sadie up until she herself was ready to sleep, which wouldn’t be very long, she thought, stifling a yawn. A knock at the door surprised her. 

‘Rick! Come in. How did you know I was here?’ Then she
remembered
. ‘Jimmy has been watching for me, hasn’t he?’

‘He proudly insists he’s involved, as he was the one who found you and got help. Sally, Amy and I are very sorry about the baby. David said he was beautiful.’

‘His name was Sam,’ she said softly. ‘And yes, he was beautiful.’

‘He always will be, won’t he? Your memory will keep him with you and he’ll always be beautiful.’

Tears pricked her eyes. ‘Thank you for coming.’

‘If there’s anything you need, just ask,’ he said as he turned to leave. ‘Oh, and I brought you these. From Amy and me.’ Reaching outside the door he handed her a large bunch of bright yellow chrysanthemums. ‘To brighten a dark corner,’ he said as he closed the door behind him.

The room chosen by David and his mother to use as a bedroom was smaller than the one in which they had placed the table and chairs, but it too had a fireplace and it was that one Sally decided on for their living-cum-bedroom-cum-everything. It looked out over the front garden which at present was a brown mess of overgrown and rotting grass. She wondered whether she and Sadie would stay there long enough to tame it and thought not. Just as soon as possible she wanted to get far away from this place.

Rhys had been her future but now he was nothing more than a miserable memory of the past, so it was with a shock that she saw him walking up the front path a week later. He was dressed in a duffel coat, the hood drawn around his face, but she knew it was him. To her utter disbelief she saw he was carrying flowers. Did he really think he could calm her pain and disappointment with flowers?

She picked up Sadie and ran up the stairs and watched from the window as he looked up at the house then approached the door. He knocked several times, glancing up in between and then walked around to the back of the house. Thankfully, she remembered the door was locked. She had a brief look at his face and was shocked. He looked ill. Was that the reason he was staying away from her? But no, he’d need her and his parents if that were the reason. It must have been a trick of the light.

He came back and knocked again on the door before pushing 
something through the letterbox. Then he walked away, stopping to look back several times as though reluctant to accept defeat. She waited a long time before going back down the stairs.

There was a note on the floor and she picked it up and held it between finger and thumb as though it was contaminated. It was brief, just an apology and telling her of his grief at the loss of their son. He promised to explain everything if she could be patient for just a few more months. She was glad there was a fire burning and watched the flames destroy his words with some satisfaction.

Jimmy had ridden around outside the house several times but had cycled away each time she had called to him to come in. He felt a strong embarrassment having seen her about to give birth and later, as she sat against the tree nursing the newly born baby. He hadn’t been back to the mill either, unable to cope with the fear of the place since that day, half believing it was haunted by the baby who had died. He had walked down the path twice but could go no further than halfway. Once during the night, he heard the call of a vixen and convinced himself it was the cries of the dead baby.

Two weeks after Sally had moved into the house, he packed some food while his parents were out and promised himself that this time he would go right to the mill and lay the fear of ghosts for ever. I’m almost eleven years old, he told himself, and I’ve been walking through the wood at night since I was eight.

He dressed, packed his bag with food and his torch and bottle of water, and he stood, with a blanket over his arm, listening
impatiently
to his parents downstairs, arguing as usual. The television was quiet. Why didn’t they come to bed?

‘Useless you are!’ he heard his father shout. Useless was his favourite word, Jimmy thought with a sigh. ‘You and that son of yours. I can’t believe how useless you are. Why don’t you get a decent dressing gown? Look at you, slovenly old thing, tatty slippers, it’s all you ever wear in the house. Dress up smart for work though.’

‘If you got a job and we didn’t have to depend on my wages you might be justified in complaining!’ his mother retaliated. There was the sound of furniture being dragged and he could picture the scene as though he were there. His father threatening, his mother defiant, although he had never known a blow to be struck.

It was half past eleven before he considered it safe to leave and he hurried from the house on tiptoes, his feet not making a sound. Once out on the road he moved fast, and his determination not to waver remained strong, but as he approached the mill his feet slowed and he began to listen for the sounds of the countryside at night with dread.

As he drew near to the mill he lost his nerve. He was aware of that atavistic fear of attack, that vulnerability, that cold sensation between his shoulder blades. He stood undecided for a moment and then twitched his nostrils. He thought he smelt smoke. Someone was there. Or had been. No one could be sleeping there at this time of year, surely? He stepped closer and as his nerve was about to break he heard someone coughing. Eric!

‘Hi,’ he called casually as he came in sight of a bright fire with Eric shrouded in blankets sitting beside it. ‘I didn’t expect to see anyone here in this weather. November isn’t the time for picnicking, but I’ve brought some food. Supper tastes better out here. Fancy a jam
sandwich
?’

‘Hello, young Jimmy, why aren’t you in bed?’

‘Couldn’t sleep. I hoped to get a sight of the fox. Seen him, have you?’

As naturally as always, he sat beside Eric and they shared their food. Jimmy was careful not to eat too much, aware that Eric must be broke to have to sleep in the mill in the winter. ‘Got kicked out again, did you?’ he asked, muttering around a rather stale cake.

‘No, this time it was my choice. Not a word, mind, but I wanted to buy a present for Sadie. She had to leave the Martins’ house and I don’t think there’s much comfort in the place they’re living in at present.’

‘A present. That’s nice,’ Jimmy said.

When he walked back home leaving his blanket for Eric to use, the wood seemed as friendly as it had always been. The damp, warm scent of early winter was comforting and familiar, relaxing him. He stopped several times and listened to the quiet rustling as small creatures went about their foraging. An owl flew past and he marvelled at its almost silent flight, trying not to think of the small animals who would provide its supper. Back home he slept soundly, still half dressed, until his mother called him for school. If she 
wondered why his pyjamas were unused on the chair, she didn’t bother to enquire.

Amy was at the nursery one morning when Sally was waiting to collect Sadie. ‘I hope you are fully recovered, Sally,’ she said. She looked uneasy.

‘I have to be,’ Sally told her. ‘My grieving has to be in private. I had to put on the brave woman act for everyone, including Sadie, and I think it helped in a way. Mourning can go on for ever if you dwell on it and even the kindest people have had enough after a while.’

‘Rick and I were very upset. When that Milly woman came around to tell me of your ordeal, I’m afraid I was angry with her and, well, I presumed she knew, about you and Rhys being – you know – and I said too much. I’m terribly sorry, but I think I was unwittingly responsible for that newspaper article.’

‘Don’t worry, it’s a miracle it hadn’t been guessed before this. It had to come out sometime. At least I had a bit of sympathy. Mrs Green had told me she didn’t want me working for her any more and that was a shock – I depended on her and a couple more to pay for nursery for Sadie. After the article she asked me to go back.’

‘I’m glad it wasn’t all disaster. Look, here she comes!’ She pointed to where Sadie was running to the door, a very messy model made from oddments in her hand.

‘Thank you for being so understanding about my mistake,’ Amy said as Sally hugged her daughter, getting paint over her face in the process. ‘As soon as we’re settled in, I’d love it if you could come and have tea with me one day.’

Sally thanked her and as she walked away she had the happy feeling that Amy might become a friend.

Sally and Sadie had been in the house for two weeks when Eric called. Jimmy was with him. He carried a large parcel which Sadie gleefully unwrapped, tearing at the paper in great excitement. Eric had bought her a very large teddy bear which the little girl at once placed on the floor and cuddled. Neither Eric nor Jimmy explained what he had done to get the money but she guessed he’d have had to give up something. She offered them food and hurriedly provided a steaming bowl of homemade soup followed by pancakes. 

Sally certainly wasn’t short of visitors although once her friends realized she was working on her cleaning jobs during the mornings and the decorating most evenings after Sadie was asleep, they timed their visits accordingly and kept them brief. The afternoons were for Sadie and friends.

Rhys called several times and although she knew he had seen her, she still didn’t answer the door. On one occasion she had a good look at him and was further alarmed by the gauntness of his face. He looked so tired and again she wondered if illness had been the reason he had stayed away. TB maybe? Something he might be afraid of passing on to her or Sadie?

Valmai came often but she didn’t ask her about her son. She didn’t want to show any interest in the man who had let her down so badly.

She did ask David if he had heard news of him and he looked at her quizzically. ‘Still care, do you?’

‘I want nothing more to do with him,’ she replied vehemently. ‘But I saw him yesterday when he knocked at the door and I thought he looked ill.’

‘Why don’t you ask Mrs Martin?’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t want to show any interest. She has to accept that one day soon I’ll leave here and she mustn’t be given hope of a happy ending.’

‘Where will you go? Not too far away, Sally. You know I don’t want to lose touch with you and Sadie.’

She smiled. ‘I don’t think there’s anyone who will grieve for very long when I go, not even you, David.’

‘You’re wrong. I don’t want you to go. I’ve always liked you and now, seeing so much of you and Sadie, my feelings are stronger. You must know that.’ He moved closer, his arm reaching for her as though they were about to kiss and she stepped away, not abruptly or very far, just enough to avoid his kiss.

Sally was surprised. Having loved Rhys for so long, it hadn’t occurred to her that David could be anything more than the friend he’d always been. ‘I’ll always value your friendship,’ she said warmly. ‘You and your mother are very good friends and I won’t find it easy to say goodbye to either of you.’

‘I see,’ he replied, sadly. Then after a moment he added, ‘Don’t be too ready to leave people who care about you. Did you know that 
Eric slept at the old mill for a week so he could buy something for Sadie with his rent money?’

‘Oh, no! What a dear, foolish man. He’s too generous. Don’t you often find that the people with the least give the most? I often take him some food but I’ll do more, without him guessing that I know, of course.’

After David had gone she sat and thought about his words. Despite the unpleasant few who relished the gossip she caused, there were so many people here who had helped her, showed their concern. Even Amy had mellowed and sometimes called for a cup of tea and might soon be called a friend. And Valmai and Gwilym were Sadie’s grandparents. Could she deprive them by taking Sadie away? She’d have to make sure David didn’t get the wrong idea about her feelings for him but he was right, she was better to stay here among friends.

David ran as he left the house, embarrassed. Although Sally had been careful not to exaggerate her unwillingness to make that move into more than friendship, he felt foolish. Then he began to think about his situation. He was a highly skilled carpenter but he was unemployed and there were no prospects of any suitable work in the near future. Of course, that was why she had refused his attempt at showing his feelings. She was a mother and would need security. ‘Fool that I am,’ he muttered as he slowed to a walk. I have to get work, show her I can look after her and Sadie. Then she’ll respond. I know she will. He smiled then as he imagined the look on Rhys’s face when he learned of his daughter being brought up by David Gorse. One day perhaps even having his name.

He called at Greenways a few days later and offered to repair a built-in cupboard in the living room before Sally painted the
woodwork
. He took a bag of tools and set about the task, talking to Sally casually, determined he would get a job before attempting to show his feeling again. ‘Make haste slowly’, seemed a ridiculous
expression
but he understood it now. He was pleased with the repair and went to tell Gwilym, and promised to bring Sadie home from her visit to the Martins.

Gwilym was in his shed working on a headboard for a single bed. He had drawn the design of flowers and dragonflies and small
fairy-like
figures. About a third of it was already carved and it was beautiful. 

‘Gwilym, that is wonderful. Who’s the lucky customer?’

‘I’m making it for Sadie. Wherever they live, she’ll need a bed.’

‘You are an artist.’

‘This is the work I love best.’

After admiring Gwilym’s skill, watching the fascinating
workmanship
for a while, sadly aware he didn’t have the ability to match Gwilym’s steady and sure handling of the tools, David said, ‘I’ve decided to try again to get a job. But I won’t take just anything. I was a supervisor – I just couldn’t go back to using the tools again.’

‘You were quite good at what you did, but more suited to the administration side. Administration is a skill of its own. Forget carpentry, you could work for any business.’