The Runaway

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Authors: Grace Thompson

BOOK: The Runaway
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THE RUNAWAY

Grace Thompson

F
aith Pryor was approaching her twenty-second birthday and on the following Saturday she planned a small party. She lived in a small bedsit so there couldn’t be too many guests. She secretly hoped that this would be the occasion on which Nick would announce their engagement. St Valentine’s Day, 14 February 1960, that would be a good day for a wedding. Just over a year from now.

She packed away the few ornaments she possessed, hiding them in drawers and cupboards. The room would be crowded; some might get broken, and besides, they would need every inch of space if the ten people she had invited all turned up. She had a small kitchen area and in there were the beginnings of the spread she planned. No cake; there was this small insistent hope that it would be an engagement cake instead of a birthday cake, and she could always knock up a sponge and decorate it if Nick hadn’t said anything before Saturday.

Cooking was something she enjoyed and she went through the list of dishes she would prepare and a second list of ingredients she would have to buy with anticipated pleasure. Surely Nick would propose? His words were so close to what she dreamed of and he often told her he loved her. An engagement party would be a wonderful way to celebrate her birthday and end the years of
loneliness
. She added a few more items to her list; Saturday had to be special and this was no time to think of the cost.

She glanced at the clock. Tonight she and Nick were going out for a meal at a hotel a few miles away in the small South Wales seaside town of Barry. There was an hour before he was due to call. Putting aside her lists, she bathed and put on the beautiful new dress she had bought for tomorrow’s party. Tonight could be important and she wanted to look her best.

Looking at herself critically she saw what she privately referred to as a pleasantly plump young woman with hazel eyes that somehow matched the colour of her hair which she described as rusty brown. She brushed it up and piled it on her head, fastening it with grips. No time for anything more, and Nick liked it that way. At 7.30 she was sitting listening to the wireless and waiting to hear Nick arriving. At eight o’clock she gave up and pulled the clips from her hair, kicked off the high-heeled shoes put the new dress back on its hanger and gave a deep sigh. So Nick was letting her down. Not for the first time, she reminded herself sadly. At nine she made herself eggs on toast and at ten she went to bed.

At 7.30 the following morning, as she was gathering all she needed for the day’s lessons at the school where she worked as a temporary teacher, there was a knock at the door. ‘Hello, Nick,’ she said as he stood there, head hanging low in mock shame. ‘What happened this time?’

‘You’d never believe it.’

‘Try me.’ She failed to raise a smile and instead walked back into her room and picked up her shoulder bag and briefcase.

‘The damned car broke down. Clutch slipping again.’

‘Nick, you only live fifteen minutes’ walk away. You could have come and told me instead of leaving me waiting for you.’

‘Did you wait long?’

‘Till eight before giving up and making myself some food to make up for the dinner you promised me.’

‘I’m sorry, love. What about tonight instead?’

Childishly she shook her head. ‘I have lots of work to do ready for the exhibition. We’re arranging an open day at the school. All the parents are coming and we have to make sure every child has
something
on display.’ She didn’t mention the party with her hope of its romantic end.

‘You love your work, don’t you?’

‘Very much. I now have to decide whether I want it to be
permanent
.’

‘And will you? Can you stop moving around and settle?’

‘Do you think I should?’ She smiled at him, hoping he might say something to persuade her it was the right thing to do. Even though he was not always reliable she wanted permanency at the school and with Nick, but he didn’t say anything more. He kissed her lightly on
the cheek and hurried off, leaving her feeling deflated, a not uncommon sensation where Nick Harris was concerned.

In an attempt to take her mind off growing doubts and
disappointment
she looked through the list of food she needed to buy for Saturday’s party. She was determined that the evening would be a good one. And whatever happened afterwards, she had no ties. She was still free to walk away from here. Thank goodness she hadn’t confided her hopes of an engagement to anyone, apart from a few vague hints. Yet the niggle of hope that he would surprise her with the offer of his ring still remained. She was aware that she was what some would call a waverer, a woman who needed to cover her every move, which was why she usually solved a problem when she was unable to make up her mind by running away.

Her contract would finish at the end of term; then, whatever happened, she would be able to move right away, start again, forget Nick and her foolish dreams. She would scuttle off as she had in the past, leaving her acquaintances to pick over the crumbs of her
disappointment
.

 

 A few miles away, on the outskirts of the holiday resort of Barry, Ian Day was also thinking about a party. He and Tessa were planning to announce their engagement. They had been together since schooldays and Ian had bought a house, with the intention of living there with Tessa and his widowed mother, Vivienne. It was a large house and he had spent several months redecorating and adding modern
improvements
, mostly following Tessa’s suggestions.

Last night he and Tessa had had a serious disagreement. She had told him she was going on holiday with a friend and he had protested that as they were saving for their wedding it was unreasonable. He looked around the spacious living room with its view over a garden that his mother had managed to tame, and wondered whether the engagement would happen as planned or whether he and Tessa needed time to make sure it was what they wanted and not something that had become an automatic acceptance of a future together. Perhaps growing up as close friends wasn’t the best start for a marriage, simply the easiest.

 

Faith closed the gate as she went off for her day teaching the
six-year-olds.
Once she was in school, where people made demands on her
time and the hours raced past, she would put aside her
disappointment
and enjoy her day with the children. As she walked she wondered seriously whether she really wanted to marry Nick. Was it her age and the desire to settle down more than love? Could she love someone who was so casual, so negligent of her feelings? And how could he treat her so if
he
loved
her
?

Mary Gould, a dinner lady at the school, caught up with her as she left that afternoon, struggling with a pile of books. ‘Where were you last night? Your Nick was at the dance.’

‘Oh, I didn’t feel well, a chill, probably,’ she lied, hoping her shock wasn’t apparent.

‘He seemed to be having a good time. Danced with someone he introduced as Tessa for most of the evening. They seemed to know each other well and were acting like two people in love. Then after showing her off to us all he gave her a lift home.’

‘The car was fixed then? It was giving some trouble with the clutch earlier.’

Mary Gould was in her fifties, her children were grown up and had moved away. Having been at home for the years of caring for them she had taken the job of dinner lady to fill some of the empty hours and, on her fiftieth birthday, her husband had presented her with a car. She used it to travel about, exploring and taking photographs. She had befriended Faith on her first day and they had occasionally spent an afternoon together, visiting interesting places, usually
stopping
at a café for a snack.

She reminded Faith of all she had missed by not growing up within a family as she constantly talked about her children and her mild, easy-going husband. If only she had been as fortunate how different her own life might have been, she thought. Sisters and brothers, parents, grandparents and cousins. Her lack of belonging was a constant ache.

‘Want a lift?’ Mary asked now. ‘I stayed on to help with the
stock-take
.’ With her arms filled with books Faith willingly accepted. It was worth listening to Mary’s unwittingly wounding chatter to save struggling with the slippery load.

With Mary’s words echoing in her mind, Faith went home with her thoughts in tumult. After arranging to take her out Nick had lied to her and gone dancing. She had been fooling herself. Lying to herself. How pathetic was that? Perhaps last night’s disappointment had been
a good thing. It was time to face facts; it was not the first time
something
like this had happened; he relied on charm to get away with treating her thoughtlessly – or worse. She had been acting like an idiot. This was the moment to face the truth and tell him goodbye.

The thought was painful. She had dreamed of having a home of her own after all the years of not belonging. Faith had no family at all, and had been fostered since a baby. Meeting Nick, falling in love, had promised an end to all that lonely heartache. A home, a caring husband and children of her own. Children she would love and protect to compensate for her own miserable childhood. She knew she had wanted those things too much, it was time to admit her stupidity.

She had been denying the truth that was so apparent. She wasn’t loved and perhaps never would be. People recognized that she had been damaged by her sad childhood. She tried too hard to please, grabbing at friendships in a way that put people off.

 

At lunch time a few days later, knowing Ian Day was working at home, Tessa went to see him. They were both uneasy after their recent argument but Tessa remained determined to take a holiday and use money they had saved for furnishings. Ian refused to agree but Tessa insisted on withdrawing her share of their savings and, angry, hurt, he drove to the bank and gave her half of their savings, more than she had contributed. He wondered whether this was the end of their engagement and hoped that before the day ended she would be back full of remorse to put things right.

When Tessa took the money and without a word hurried back to the shop where she worked, Ian drove to the house he had bought and wandered from room to room, wondering whether it would ever be the happy home he had envisaged for so long. An hour later he was staring at his friend, Harry Ford, in disbelief.

‘No. Harry, it couldn’t have been Tessa you saw. She hardly knows anyone round there and dancing isn’t something we enjoy. Besides, last Saturday she was home nursing a heavy cold. She wasn’t well enough to go out or she’d have been with me, working on our house.’

His friend shrugged. ‘They looked pretty close to me and it was definitely your Tessa.’

He waited until Tessa would be home, then, leaving the shelves he was making for his and her future home, Ian got into the car and
drove to where Tessa lived with her sisters and parents. The house was empty and he walked around the area disconsolately. After an hour he drove home and, in the hallway of the house in which he planned to start married life, there was a letter.

It was short but said all he needed to know. Tessa was leaving him and going to London with someone called Nick Harris.

His reaction to the shock of Tessa’s deceit was to make up his mind to work every hour he could spare and get the house finished. The work would be completed by the date on which he and Tessa were to have married. It was a way of coping with the realization that
everything
he had been working towards had collapsed around him.

He concentrated on making a list of all he would need, calming himself until he could almost believe the letter hadn’t arrived, or had been a joke.

 

In her bedsit, Faith stared at a similar letter, her mind refusing to take in its message. Nick wouldn’t be at her birthday party, he had to go to London and he was taking a friend with him. The disappointment was tempered with a sense of relief, grateful for not having to spend the evening pretending everything was all right. Going with a friend? She was in no doubt that he was going with a woman. The woman he’d met at the dance after telling her the car had broken down? It really was time to face her situation and tell him goodbye. She felt a painful surge of self-dislike and regret. She had been too clingy, making him need to escape, having to lie to her, afraid she would cause him embarrassment.

She forced herself to concentrate on food for the friends who would be coming to wish her well on her birthday, but it wasn’t easy to let go of a dream. For a moment she decided to cancel, tell everyone she was feeling ill, but no, she found it all too easy to walk away from problems and this was one she had to face.

But how? What would she tell her friends? They all knew Nick had been invited so how could she explain his absence? Easy enough for the casual friends who were coming, but she’d have to explain to those to whom she had asserted, with a secretive smile, that, no, they were nothing more than friends. They would know she had hoped for a future with him. They would soon know he had gone away,
probably
with someone called Tessa, someone she didn’t even know.

She made a sponge cake and decorated it with lemon icing. No
candles, no engagement announcement, just a simple cake
representing
nothing more than another birthday. Cheese straws, sausage rolls, sandwiches, salads, there was no joy in the preparations and she would be glad when the evening was over. There were nine people coming to her party. Nine people who would crowd into the small room and sit on the bed or on the floor, there being only one chair. They arrived within a few minutes of each other and brought flowers and small gifts and cards, which she put on one side to open later. They all worked at the school so there were no constrained moments and as coats were discarded and wine offered, conversations and laughter quickly filled the air.

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