Nothing is Forever (17 page)

The miscarriage was a nightmare. She wanted the baby and facing the loss, just as she was beginning to feel the excitement of becoming a mother, was cruel. The severe pains seemed to last for ever. Then, the attention of a nurse and reassurances from a doctor and she was left to sleep before going home. She realized that she was in the same hospital as her mother.

Jack jumped off the bus at the end of the road and walked towards the abandoned garage. No smoke from the chimney of the bungalow: did that mean Abigail and Gloria were out? Damn. He was hungry and he hated having to cook for himself.

He arrived at the same time as Abigail, meeting at the corner from different directions, Abi having travelled by bus, Jack on foot. They both gave a cry of delight as they hugged each other, Abigail tearful as she told him about their baby and her mother’s continuing illness. Jack was ashamed that she’d had to deal with it all on her own. With promises falling from his lips, holding her close, they walked towards the door which, to her alarm, was open.

‘Someone’s been here!’ Wide-eyed in alarm, Abigail eased herself away from his arms as they crept closer. Jack reached into his pocket for a weapon, a torch, which was all he carried. Looking inside Abigail gave a wail of dismay, Jack a growl of rage. The few pieces of furniture they had were broken, the half-burned wood on the fire that spilled out onto the grate and even the slate floor, evidence to their fate. A hasty look into the food cupboard and Abigail began to cry. ‘They’ve taken everything. The food I’d been storing for when Mam gets home, everything.’

Jack looked around him after searching the other rooms. Everything had either been taken or destroyed. The bed was filthy, where various drinks and food had spilt and thrown around and left in squashed lumps on the remains of the furniture, the torn bedding and over the floor.

‘Where can we go?’ Abigail whispered. ‘Mam can’t come home to this.’

Jack was white-faced with anger. Forcing himself to speak calmly he said, ‘Do what you can to clean things up and I’ll go and get what we need just for tonight. Tomorrow we’ll decide what to do next.’

Like a zombie she filled a pail and found a scrubbing brush, and even some soap and bleach, and began scrubbing. The furniture that hadn’t been burnt was filthy but she managed to set up a small table and a couch that she covered with her coat. The bed was unusable. The bedding once immaculate was now stained by heaven alone knew what; she could not allow her mother to sleep in it. Frustration giving her strength, she dragged it outside and set fire to it.

Jack didn’t return. She sat up all night and waited, crying and dozing and waking to cry again. Everything had gone wrong since Jack had left on his search for an inheritance; what had been a prideful joke on her part was no longer an amusing story to tell people, it was a disaster. Having no money wouldn’t make him leave her, she knew him better than that. He’ll be back. She was torn between going to see her mother and staying put until Jack came and settled for waiting. Her mother didn’t know about the miscarriage and wouldn’t expect her until later. She’d stay and wait for Jack.

Jack was on his way to see Ruth. This was an emergency and Ruth had empty rooms. Pity about Tabs, but she’d have found out some time. It was early morning when he knocked on the door and as soon as Ruth opened it he began pleading. He calmly explained about the bungalow being robbed and the loss of everything Abigail owned, and about her mother due to be released from hospital within days.

‘Who is Abigail? I thought you and Tabs were, well, more than friends,’ Ruth queried. ‘Does Tabs know about this Abigail? Have you been deceiving her? If so, I don’t think I want to help, Jack.’

‘An elderly lady with nowhere to go except a damp bungalow, without decent food and not even a dry bed. Please, Ruth. I’ll talk to Tabs and I know she’ll understand.’

‘I hope so. She’s coming any moment and before I make a decision you have to assure her. Then I’ll listen. Right?’

‘Thank you. I’ll go and meet her now.’ He went to the park and sat on the bench knowing Tabs would soon appear. Trying to think of a way of explaining Abigail and her mother that was close to the truth yet acceptable wasn’t easy, but talking his way out of trouble was something at which he excelled.

She locked the shop and ran to where he was sitting. They hugged and she led him back into the shop, pulling down the closed sign on the door. He waited while she went up to the kitchen to make some tea and swiftly slipped out, muffling the bell and hid several easy-to-sell items in a garden near by. When she came down again, he was wearing a serious expression.

Abigail was cold and she sat near the dead ashes as though they would offer comfort. She dozed often and awoke with a start and would step outside and listen for the sound of Jack’s footsteps, then return to the stained and smelly couch which she had dragged as close to the fireplace as possible. Smoke infiltrated the room as the bed burned, until most of it had been consumed. The sound of the flames fell silent and even the cessation of that eerie sound made the loneliness more fearful.

Darkness was falling and she didn’t know when Jack would return. She didn’t have the strength to go back to the hospital, even though that offered warmth, for a while at least. Smouldering ash from the burnt bed drifted around as a playful breeze found it, dancing in the air like a flock of birds. One small spark created a flame as it touched a piece of paper and flared with renewed vigour.

Jack hadn’t kissed her but Tabs thought nothing of it, apart from disappointment. From his expression she could see he was troubled. ‘What is it, Jack? Are you ill?’

‘No, but a friend of mine is and I have asked Ruth if she can stay here for a while. You wouldn’t mind, would you?’

‘Who is she, this friend of yours?’

‘She’s called Abigail and she and her mother, Gloria, have hit upon unfortunate times. I want to help but, with no home, not much money, I have to ask someone else to do what I want to do but cannot.’

‘You haven’t told me who she is, this Abigail.’

‘Abigail Tranter was engaged to a friend of mine and because he and I were good friends when he died I promised myself I’ll look out for her. Travelling as I do I’d lost touch and when I found them again, she was living in terrible circumstances trying to look after a sick mother.’

‘Is that where you go when I don’t see you for weeks?’

‘Not really. I’ve been working, but I’ve called from time to time, trying to make the awful place where they live safer and buying a few things to help them.’ He looked at her, his eyes looking into hers as though forcing her to agree to help by force of his stare. ‘So will you help? Please, my love. Will you persuade Ruth to give them a room?’

She knew he wasn’t telling her the truth. There was something about his expression that made that absolutely clear. But she nodded. ‘All right, I’ll talk to Ruth, but only if you agree to take me to this place when you go to fetch them. I want to help too.’

‘Thank you, Tabs. I knew I could rely on you.’ He kissed her affectionately and at the same time wondered if she wanted to help or to see for herself just how awful this place was and whether Abigail’s mother really was ill. She was trusting but not completely gullible.

Then his kisses grew more urgent and between them he whispered of his love and his problem. ‘I have to help Abigail to find a place to live and I’m desperate to get her settled so we can be together, you and me, Tabs, together in our own home planning our future. I need money to make it happen. Help me, please, my darling Tabs.’

‘I’ll ask Ruth if they can stay with her.’

‘That’s only a temporary arrangement, my love. I have to find them a place of their own, I promised my friend.’ He hesitated, then went on, ‘There is a way you can help. There must be plenty of stuff in Henry’s shop, things he’s forgotten about. We could sell it and make our dream come true much quicker.’

‘I can’t—’

‘Can’t wait? Neither can I, love. Do it for us. It isn’t much of a risk,’ he added quickly as she began to protest. ‘I want us to marry, live together and forget all about Abigail and her problems. Do this for us, darling, and it can happen so much sooner.’

The horror of stealing from Henry faded and she knew she would do as he asked.

Ruth agreed to Abigail staying, having learned more of the situation. Filling the house was what she needed to do, an excuse to avoid naming a day for her wedding or persuading Henry that it would happen soon. Fears of him taking a serious interest in Tabs had faded. Tabs’s expression when she and Jack came to explain, showed her clearly that Jack was the one who had touched her heart. She was Henry’s valued assistant, nothing more. Someone on whom he could rely but never more than that.

Henry drove them but, as they drew near to the disused garage, the place was hidden by smoke filtering through the trees and the road ahead. The sound of approaching fire engines overtook them and in rising panic, Jack urged Henry to hurry, afraid that, with no other buildings in the area, Abigail was in serious trouble.

He leapt out of the van leaving the door open, as soon as the van slowed down but he was stopped by a policeman’s upheld hand. Tabs pushed her way forward and they both ran towards the building. Attempts were made to stop them reaching the blazing building but Jack ignored the warnings and Tabs followed.

Henry and Ruth got out and stared in horror at the flames stretching into the sky, silhouettes danced in front of the red glow, a parody of a bonfire party, but no laughter here.

Shouts were heard giving orders, men moved in haste, bringing hoses and other equipment and amid the chaos they saw Jack walking alongside a stretcher with a figure wrapped in blankets being carried by two firemen. They were running, and Ruth wanted to tell them to slow down, that the poor woman was being shaken by their haste. Instead, they were told to move back. Tabs stared after the stretcher and Ruth pulled her away and back towards the car.

‘Get back! Right away from the area!’ a policeman urged, beckoning them towards him. ‘We don’t know whether there’s any petrol left in the tanks.’

‘It could blow up! Hurry!’ another shouted impatiently. Ruth and Henry held hands. Tabs followed and they ran back towards the car.

Behind the fire engine an ambulance had stopped and two ambulancemen ran out to help the woman, and Jack, into the back of it. As Henry hurried Ruth and Tabs into the car and started the engine, the ambulance drove off towards the nearest hospital. Tabs was crying.

‘Who was on the stretcher?’ Henry asked her. ‘Someone you know?’

‘A friend of Jack, she’s just a friend,’ she added to reassure herself. ‘He had to go with her; there’s no one else. Only her mother and as you know, she’s in hospital too.’

‘You can phone tomorrow to ask how she is. Don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll be all right.’

‘I hope she isn’t burnt,’ Tabs whispered, tearfully. She didn’t think Jack would leave her if she was seriously hurt. She feared that this woman, Abigail Tranter, was more important than that. More than just the widow of a friend. Jack’s face, when he thought she was hurt, the way he had run towards the fire, gave lie to his explanation.

‘Don’t worry, their room is ready for them and it seems I’ll have two patients to look after if they both come out of hospital at the same time,’ Ruth said in an attempt to be cheerful. ‘You and me to look after them, Tabs, both recovering in the happy atmosphere of our house.’

Henry said nothing, just increased his speed. He didn’t stay once he had seen Ruth and Tabs back into the house. Ruth filled the kettle for the inevitable cup of tea but he had declined, nodded to them both and left. Ruth smiled but Tabs was staring into space, her arms wrapped around herself, her face a picture of – of what?

Ruth stared at her, her expression was of utter tragedy. She didn’t answer when Henry left or when Ruth spoke to her. Ruth wondered why she was so distressed by the incident. Abigail was a stranger, and concern was normal up to a point but not as much as Tabs was showing.

When Abigail was well enough to leave the hospital, Henry agreed to fetch her but when he brought her to the house, he didn’t speak a word to Ruth. He and Jack helped Abigail in and settled her in an armchair beside the fire.

‘Can you tell us what happened?’ Ruth asked, when Henry had gone.

‘The burglary, the mess. I was so upset and I couldn’t imagine sleeping in the bed those filthy people had used. I dragged it outside and set it on fire. Better to sleep on the cold slate floor than that. I didn’t know where I’d find another one but I couldn’t have let my mother sleep on it after the filth they had left. I propped it against a dead tree and it fell, caught the curtains alight – they had broken all the windows you see. And before I realized what was happening, the door was ablaze and I was struggling with the front door when the fire brigade arrived. Someone passing had seen the flames and called them.’ She looked exhausted and they helped her upstairs and into the room prepared for her. She was asleep before they had left the room.

There was no sign of anyone when Tabs left for the shop the next morning. She called and no one answered. Unwilling to knock on the bedroom door and introduce herself so early, she went to the shop. At lunchtime she went home. She wanted to see the woman who was so important to Jack. He was sitting beside the pale, doll-like woman and he didn’t move when she walked in.

‘Hello, I’m Tabs,’ she said, approaching the armchair where Abigail sat wrapped in blankets and surrounded by cushions. ‘We didn’t get the chance to say more than hello, yesterday.’

‘Hello – Tabs?’

‘Tabitha.’

‘I’m so sorry to cause so much trouble.’

‘Lucky Jack’s here to keep an eye on you; it’s one of Ruth’s busiest days. Can I get us all something to eat? Ruth won’t be back until teatime. Will a sandwich do?’

Abigail looked at Jack and waited for him to answer. Tabs tightened her lips. The expression was well known to her, she had been deferring to her father for the simplest decisions most of her life. But she guessed that Abigail’s need for guidance wasn’t out of fear, her eyes told her it was love and adoration. Shivers goosed her arms as she went into the kitchen. Abigail was more than the ex-fiancée of a friend, that much was clear. She was far more important to Jack than that.