The Runaway (16 page)

It was the first Vivienne had heard of it but she stood up and handed Tessa her coat.

‘Lovely to see you, and thank you for the tea,’ Tessa said, as Ian rushed her to the door.

‘That was rather rude, dear,’ Vivienne said, when he returned a short while later.

‘I think Faith and I have sufficient complications to concern us without Tessa trying to be your friend, Mum.’

‘I think she had something to tell me but you came before she could say it.’

‘She made her choice.’

Customers at the bakery weren’t the only people to show their
disapproval
of Faith. People who had been friendly seemed unable to know how to treat her when they met. Most simply changed
direction
and walked away, others glared as she passed and ignored her smiles and greetings. After several unpleasant encounters, she was choosing some fruit when she saw Olive Monk appear. Olive saw her and, for different reasons from the rest, began to back away.

‘Hello, Olive. Come and have a cup of tea, the café is open for a while yet.’

‘Oh, Faith, dear, I’m so sorry. I wish—’

‘Forget sorry, the truth is I can’t honestly say I wouldn’t have done the same if I’d been clever enough to think of it. It’s difficult to
criticize
when I’ve never been in your situation.’ In moments they were chatting like friends again.

Ian saw them as they stepped out of the café later and offered Olive a lift home but she refused quite firmly.

‘I don’t think things are very good,’ Faith told him. ‘She was evasive when I asked where they are living.’

‘She probably waits till dark and shins up an apple tree,’ he joked.

Olive walked back to yet another unpleasant room. The most recent one had been infected with bedbugs and the swelling on her skin made her refuse to stay another night. ‘I’d rather sleep in the fields than in a filthy place like that,’ she had said tearfully. Colin and Graham had promised that the next one was an improvement.

‘It isn’t perfect. Nothing like what we want for you, Mam, but we’ve stayed there before and the owner has promised us one of his better rooms once one becomes vacant.’

They were walking past a shabby building with a broken door and boarding over several windows and her spirits fell when they stopped and Colin pointed to the steps leading to a once grand door swinging on one hinge.

‘Not here?’

‘Afraid so, but it isn’t too bad inside.’

The boys showed her to a small, dismal room. Furnished, the advertisement had said, but as Olive looked around at the ancient bed and the scratched wardrobe and the sagging chair, she wondered how it could be so described. ‘It’s a mess,’ she said sadly.

‘It’s only till we find something better, Mam. You can manage here for a few weeks, can’t you? We’ll get a decent job soon.’

‘A few weeks?’ Olive looked around the miserable room and shook her head. Winter will be gloomy enough all alone, but to spend it in this place was unimaginable.

‘We’re going to ask Granddad for help,’ Colin said.

‘No! I won’t have him knowing just how badly we’re managing.’

‘He owes you something, Mam,’ Graham argued.

‘Perhaps you could go and see Faith, see if you can change her mind?’ was his brother’s suggestion.

‘I can’t do that either. How can I ask her to help us after what we did?’ But the idea was very tempting.

‘We’ll get a job soon,’ Kenneth promised, but again she shook her head.

Why was keeping a job so difficult for her sons? In what way had she failed them? She unpacked her few belongings and bits of
shopping
and tried to make the place look less like an abandoned building and more like a place fit for human habitation. She had brought very little with her and the velvet cushion and the china ornaments only succeeded in making the room look more shabby than ever.

F
aith couldn’t concentrate on preparations for Sunday lunch for Ian and his mother. Thoughts of Matt filled her every moment; if Gwennie was right and he was innocent, then she had robbed the man of his child. She knew she had to see him and try to make him tell her the truth.

Saturday was usually an early finish at the shop. Once the cakes and bread had sold out there was no point in keeping the shop open. Mrs Palmer had been correct and after a few days of protest, buying their needs elsewhere, the customers had returned and business was as usual. On that Saturday, an early rush had continued all morning and everything was sold out by mid-afternoon. She began the cleaning at 3.30 and an hour later they closed.

She didn’t go home. The bus took her back to where Matt and Carol lived, and with a racing heart she went straight to the workshop, from where she could hear banging. Matt was knocking some dry cement out of a wheelbarrow and he looked up as her shadow fell over him and stared. He stopped what he was doing and walked across.

‘I need to talk to you,’ she said. She watched him as he walked slowly towards her, his eyes so intense, dark and seeming to penetrate her very soul so she felt again the magnetism of the man. Nervously she lowered her gaze and studied the floor until he spoke. ‘A bit late for talking, now you’ve stolen my child.’

‘I had to send her away. I didn’t want you in her life. One day she’ll have found out what you did and besides, if you could do that once you could do it again. How could I know we’d be safe?’

‘That girl didn’t tell the truth.’

‘That’s what your mother said, but the court thought differently and I couldn’t take the chance.’

‘Why have you come?’

‘I want you to tell me the truth. I need to know I wasn’t wrong.’

‘You want me to ease your conscience?’

‘Please, Matt. If I ever meant anything to you you’ll tell me the truth now.’

‘The girl wasn’t the victim. I was.’

‘Please, Matt.’

‘You were wrong, Faith.’

‘Don’t do this to me, please.’

‘Go away. I won’t bother you again, you can forget all about me and my little daughter. There, does that help you feel better?’

She ran off, fighting back tears. She would never be free from what she had done. The memories would never fade. Time will heal? That must be a joke! She knew, exactly to the hour, how old her daughter was at every moment of her days. How could that ever change?

She had to shop on the way home to gather all she needed for the planned Sunday lunch. Roast chicken wasn’t exactly adventurous, but with a special selection of vegetables and followed by an extravagant pavlova, she knew they would be impressed. With a base of meringue, she’d add mandarin slices, kiwi, strawberries, grapes and banana, mostly tinned, all covered in thick cream. She consulted her list and went into the greengrocer’s where she regularly bought her fruit and vegetables. As she waited in the busy shop to be served she decided that it would be a good idea to invite Mr and Mrs Gretorex to join them. They might welcome the opportunity to get to know her better. The table would just about seat five, if she could borrow a few chairs.

A notice across the road attracted her attention. There was a jumble sale taking place at the church hall. Tempted, she waved to the assistant and told her she would be back, and ran across the road.

No 3 Railway Cottages still lacked many of the basic items and as the place was about to close, she thought she might find a few bargains. Fifteen minutes later she had bought two bentwood chairs, a small table, two saucepans, a couple of cushions, three flower vases, an assortment of cutlery and china and a tablecloth. The organizers willingly agreed to deliver them.

The tablecloth had seen better days; it had been neatly darned a few times and the colour was no longer white, but with the repairs hidden by vases of flowers, the table would look better than with the bare wooden surface.

Having the meal to think about helped take her mind off her brief meeting with Matt, and she was smiling, anticipating the occasion as she went back into the greengrocer’s shop. Her smile faded when she was told that, no, they wouldn’t deliver. ‘In fact,’ the woman said quietly, ‘we’d prefer that you go somewhere else for your order. We no longer want to serve you.’

‘But why? I pay on delivery, the house isn’t very far away. In fact, you deliver to my neighbour.’

‘We don’t want to be seen to support you after – you know. People talk, and they might think we agree with what you did.’

‘But it was a long time ago!’

‘Never long enough for some things.’

‘Has someone spoken to you recently and persuaded you I’m unfit to be a customer?’ she asked in disbelief.

‘Sorry, but we’d prefer you to leave,’ the woman said defiantly.

‘Matt Hewitt? Gwenllian?’

‘Next please.’ The assistant smiled politely at the person behind her. Without another word Faith stumbled from the shop.

It was getting late and soon the shops would be closing. She caught a bus to the main shopping centre of Holton Road and walked into the first greengrocer’s she came to.

‘It’s very late, I know, but can you possibly deliver an order for me?’ she asked.

Doubtfully the man looked at the clock. ‘All right, missus, so long as you’re quick. It’s very late but we don’t like to discourage anyone who might become a regular customer.’

‘I possibly will become a regular customer,’ she said, ‘but you’re right, it is rather late.’ She handed him her list and asked them to put everything into a strong box. ‘Just for today I’ll treat myself to a taxi,’ she said. The shop didn’t have all she needed, but she knew it would be sufficient to provide a good lunch. The man helpfully rang for a taxi and lifted the heavy box in for her.

She felt angry rather than tearful over the other greengrocer’s spurning of her custom, but this time the temptation was not to pack up and leave, to try once more to make a fresh start somewhere where she wasn’t known. No. This time she’d stay and face things. Previous fresh starts hadn’t achieved a thing except weary her and make her feel even more alone. She wouldn’t run away. Not this time.

As she stepped out of the taxi and the driver was carrying the box
to the door, another vehicle pulled up, a van this time and glimpsing just part of it, for a moment she thought it was Matt. To her relief it was the delivery of the items she had bought at the jumble sale. They were carried inside for her and placed in the kitchen.

Her next task was to invite her tenants, Mr and Mrs Gretorex, to have lunch with her the following day. They accepted with pleasure. Faith looked into the empty room so recently vacated by Olive and wished she could invite her to join them too. She worked late into the evening cleaning the items she had bought. The cutlery looked much improved after a good rub with Vim powder and everything benefited from a lot of soap and hot water. She was very tired when everything was set out ready for the next day but she was well content. So what if that stupid woman refuses to serve me, there are plenty of others who will, she thought as she yawned her way to bed. She was tingling with tiredness but sleep didn’t come as easily as she expected.

As she settled to sleep, the thought that she had been wrong and Matt really had been the innocent party nagged at her. He had seemed so positive, so truthful that doubts flooded in. If only she knew for certain. Then she could really put the tragedy behind her and dream only of her daughter happily settled with a loving family. She slept eventually but her dreams woke her. She saw her daughter in one of the many homes she herself had experienced where she had been ignored, unwanted, and had dreamed only of finding someone who would love her. At six she got up and began preparing the vegetables.

Ian and Vivienne arrived at twelve and Vivienne found a clump of mint in the garden with which she made some mint sauce. ‘I know it’s only supposed to go with lamb, but I love it with practically
everything
,’ she admitted. ‘Daft it is to deprive yourself of something you enjoy because it isn’t correct.’

The meal was a success and the guests seemed like old friends. As she went into the kitchen for the dessert Faith stopped to listen to the rise and fall of the conversation and the occasional bursts of laughter. Matt is a part of the unhappy past, she told herself and nothing from the past can be changed. I must look to the future, where things can be as I want them to be.

‘How long will you be living here?’ Vivienne asked Mrs Gretorex, as they were sipping coffee later.

‘Oh, we aren’t in a hurry to leave. We’re very comfortable here and
Faith is a generous landlady,’ She patted Faith’s hand. ‘Despite
warnings
.’

Faith felt her insides lurch. ‘You were warned not to stay?’ She tried to keep her voice light and forced a smile.

‘We were told to leave, that you were not as kind as you appear, you know, gossipy, troublemaking sort of things.’

‘Matt! I saw him yesterday and tried to make him admit he was guilty of attacking that girl but he refused. He said he wouldn’t bother me any more, but he’s already done as much damage as he can, telling everyone he meets his side of the story; the untruthful side.’ She began telling them about the greengrocer who refused to serve her but Mrs Gretorex interrupted.

‘Oh no, dear, it wasn’t a man. It was a woman who tried to persuade us to leave.’

‘A woman? But who could it be? Oh, it wasn’t my ex-lodger, Gwenllian, was it?’

‘No, dear, it wasn’t Gwenllian.’

Surely not Olive Monk? She dared not ask. She hadn’t driven Olive and her sons from the house; having been found out they just
gathered
their things and had left. No anger and certainly no force had been applied. They had left without paying the rent that was due and somehow Faith didn’t resent Olive for that. She wondered where she was living and hoped she had found somewhere comfortable. Olive had been considered a friend – another disappointment.

Faith tried to put the mystery out of her mind and began to clear the dishes. As she carried them into the kitchen, Ian followed. She deliberately changed the subject.

‘Fancy your mother finding mint in the garden. I must take a closer look, there might be other herbs, or perhaps I could plant some.’

The meal seemed to have relaxed the new tenants and they discussed the garden for a while as they cleaned and stacked the dishes, then they all walked outside and began making plans. ‘Cutting back will be the worst job but will give the biggest improvement,’ Mr Gretorex said.

Ian agreed. ‘Perhaps I can make a start next weekend.’

‘We could have some wonderful bonfires,’ Faith said. This was discussed, other ideas were shared and the garden promised to be an enjoyable project.

‘I can start clearing the ground but it will be next autumn before I
can really set everything out,’ Faith said. ‘If I’m still here,’ she couldn’t help adding, and at once Ian went inside.

‘Come on, Mum,’ he said, reaching for their coats. ‘Time we weren’t here.’

‘Oh, I hoped you’d stay for tea,’ Faith said. ‘I made some coconut pyramids specially.’

‘Sorry, but we have to go,’ Ian said, and there was a sharpness in his voice that alarmed her. Had she done something, said something to upset him? They had been talking about the garden and it was he who had suggested helping, so what could it have been?

As the car turned in the road, watched by an anxious Faith, Ian was tight-lipped and Vivienne sat silently beside him. Like Faith, she wondered what had been said to cause the sudden change of mood. Later that evening she brought the subject up. ‘What happened between you and Faith? I thought you and she were getting on well.’

‘I thought Tessa and I were in love and intending to spend our lives together, but she ran off, didn’t she?’

‘Be fair, Ian, you haven’t known Faith long enough to know whether she will be the one. Don’t be in such a hurry. Spend time with her and see if friendship grows into something better.’

‘Tessa and I were friends. Friendship grew stronger, then she found someone she preferred and she walked away.’

‘So you think Faith will do the same?’

‘Of course she will, you heard her, “If I’m still here”. Running away is what she always does.’

‘People can change.’

‘I want someone who’ll stay whatever happens. She ran away and left her child.’

Faith watched the car disappear around the corner and turned to see Mrs Gretorex watching her. ‘I don’t know what I said, but I don’t think they’ll be back.’

‘I hope it wasn’t my fault, mentioning that stupid woman’s attempt to make us leave.’

‘No, of course not. I’m just not lovable,’ she said, then made light of it adding: ‘A pain in the neck, that’s what several of my
foster-mothers
called me. Now, can I persuade you two to sit in the garden and help me eat these cakes?’

Guessing the young woman needed company, Mrs Gretorex agreed. The sun shone weakly in a hazy sky and the three of them sat in the garden for a while, wearing warm coats and wrapped in
blankets
, enjoying the calm quiet of the winter afternoon, sharing the cake and drinking cups of tea until the sun disappeared from its brave showing. A light breeze and the approach of evening encouraged them back indoors.

When Mr and Mrs Gretorex had gone to their room and
everything
had been tidied away Faith sat and wondered who the woman could have been. Someone who hated her enough to want to spoil her peace of mind, someone who had taken the trouble to call on her lodgers and tell them they should leave. There was no one, unless Matt had other cousins willing to shout his corner as angrily as Gwenllian had done.

Olive was attempting to brighten the miserable room with the
addition
of a few flowers, when her sons called.

‘Good news, Mam,’ Kenneth called. ‘Almost all of Dad’s debts are paid.’ He handed her a few receipts which she stared at in disbelief.