A Cuckoo in Candle Lane (24 page)

Now, watching them, she realised that Ruth had always been her favourite daughter, even though she had refused to acknowledge it. Mary had always been so self-sufficient, and even as a child had been distant and independent, rarely crying. Unlike Ruth, who from the start had been a needy child, wanting lots of hugs and kisses.

It was a relief to see her daughters laughing together now, despite what life had thrown at them, and Mary on the road to recovery at last.

Turning her head, she looked at her granddaughter, and saw Sally grinning as she listened to the banter between her mum and aunt. Touching her arm, she said, ‘Look, love, with all that’s happened I never got the chance to thank you for giving me some healing. It’s wonderful to be almost pain-free again.’

‘Blimey,’ Ruth said. ‘Yeah, I almost forgot. Thanks for helping your gran. I know you’re seeing John later. Are you going to tell him?’

‘I’ll have to, Mum, I can’t deceive him.’ She stood up. ‘I had better go and get ready. He’ll be here soon.’

Sadie frowned as her granddaughter left the room. Mary and Ruth had made bad mistakes with their husbands and she wasn’t happy with Sally’s choice either. The girl kept insisting that John was wonderful, but despite that there was something about the boy that made her skin crawl. Yes, he was nice-looking and seemed a proper gent, so why couldn’t she take to him? What was it that made her suspicious?

Sally rifled through her wardrobe, settling at last on the blue sheath dress that John had chosen. She was feeling strangely lethargic and instead of looking forward to seeing him, she was filled with dread. How was she going to tell him?

‘Sally, John’s here,’ her mum called.

‘I won’t be a minute,’ she shouted, frantically backcombing the top of her hair to give it some height. Glancing in the mirror she frowned, knowing that she looked less than her best.

‘Hello, sorry to keep you waiting,’ she said, sensing the strained atmosphere as she walked into the kitchen. John was standing by the window looking immaculate in a light grey mohair suit. He fastidiously straightened his tie as he moved across the room towards her, a smile on his lips that failed to reach his eyes.

‘Never mind, you’re ready now,’ he said stiffly.

As their eyes met she looked away, feeling a flush of guilt. ‘See you all later,’ she mumbled, picking up her coat and following him out of the front door.

‘Have you styled your hair differently, Sally?’ he asked as they walked down the Lane. ‘I’m not sure that I like it.’

‘Sorry, darling, but I had to get ready in a rush. My stepfather turned up unexpectedly today.’

‘Really!’ he said, turning to look at her. ‘I was going to suggest that we go dancing at the Hammersmith Palais, but perhaps you’d like to go for a drink instead. You look a little upset.’

‘Yes, I’d like that, John.’

‘Right, we’ll go to that pub by the river in Chelsea and you can tell me all about it.’

Arriving at the pub, they sat at a window table, dazzled by the setting sun reflected on the dark surface of the River Thames. Vivid shades of red, purple, and orange glowed like molten glass on the water, the illusion of beauty only marred by the cheerless silhouette of Battersea Power Station on the opposite side of the Embankment.

‘It must have been a bit of a surprise when your stepfather turned up, Sally. Is he going to stay?’ John asked as he sipped a gin and tonic.

‘No. He came to ask my mother for a divorce,’ she told him, putting down her glass of lemonade.

‘I see,’ John said, a slight frown on his face. ‘Has your mother agreed?’

‘Yes – after the initial shock, I think she’s quite relieved really.’

‘Oh dear, I’m not sure if I approve of that. Marriage vows are something that shouldn’t be taken lightly. Till death us do part and all that,’ he told her.

‘John, how can you say that? My mother had a terrible life with him. He was very violent, and you know he ran off with another woman.’

‘I’m not condoning that, Sally, but after all it must have been very hard for him to come home after the war to find that his wife had been unfaithful.’

‘Yes, I agree it must have been awful for him, but that’s no excuse for the way he treated us.’ She cast her eyes around the room, knowing that somehow she had to bring the conversation on to her spiritual healing.

‘How’s your aunt?’ she asked. ‘I saw that she was in pain again yesterday.’

John stared into his glass. ‘She’s a bit better today, but I’m worried about her, Sally.’

‘I think you should encourage her to go to the doctor’s, John.’ She drew herself up, adding, ‘Look, I don’t know how to tell you this and I know you’ll be annoyed, but please try to understand. You see, ever since I was a small child I’ve been able to see auras, and even though I’ve stopped using my psychic powers, they’re still visible to me.’

‘Yes – go on, Sally,’ he urged, his voice quiet, giving her some encouragement.

‘I’ve ignored them, John, really I have, but when I saw your aunt was in pain … well, I sort of couldn’t help it – I looked at her aura.’

‘And?’ he said, his eyes narrowing.

‘I could see an illness, and she really should see a doctor, John. There’s something else I must tell you,’ she said in a rush, not giving him time to speak. ‘My gran’s arthritis has been getting steadily worse, and it’s awful to see her in so much pain. So … I … I gave her some healing.’

‘You what!’ he exploded. ‘Sally, how could you?’

‘I just had to. Oh John, please try to understand. I just couldn’t bear to see her suffering.’

‘It’s not for you to make that decision, Sally. We’ve been over this so many times. What happens in life is God’s will.’

‘But Jesus healed the sick – you can’t deny that.’

‘I don’t, but that doesn’t make it right for you to use psychic healing. Please, Sally, promise me that you’ll never do it again.’

She closed her eyes, shaking her head in despair. ‘I can’t, John. I’m not going to stop helping my gran and … if … if you can’t accept it, perhaps the only thing we can do is to break off our engagement.’

He sat quietly for a while, then turned towards her, a pained expression in his eyes. ‘No, Sally, I’m sorry – I can’t accept it. It goes against all my beliefs.’

Hearing the finality in his voice, her stomach lurched. She didn’t want to lose him and part of her wanted to back down. But as tears pricked her eyes she knew that it would be impossible to see her gran in pain again, and do nothing. Unable to bear it, she stood up. ‘I think it would be better if I went home, John. Perhaps we both need time to think about this.’

‘Sally, don’t be silly, sit down and let’s talk,’ he begged.

‘What is there to talk about?’ she choked. ‘You can’t accept that I’m going to use my healing gifts, and I can’t agree to stop.’

‘All right – perhaps we do both need some breathing space. Come on then, I’ll walk you home,’ he said stiffly.

‘No, it’s all right, I’d rather go on my own,’ she whispered, hurrying out of the pub, a hard knot of pain in her chest.

Oh, what have I done? she thought. I’ve lost him. It’s over – he’ll never agree to my use of spiritual healing. But I can’t let gran suffer, I can’t.

John, John, she agonised, the tears now running down her cheeks and blinding her as she fled along Chelsea Embankment.

John followed Sally out of the pub, watching until she was out of sight, and feeling utterly deflated. Pushing his hands into his trouser pockets, he walked slowly towards Albert Bridge, head lowered and deep in thought. It was unbelievable! How could she go back to doing that dreadful spiritual healing after all he had taught her. Frowning, he remembered what she had said about his aunt, and shivered. She had seen something wrong in Lottie’s aura … was it possible?

‘Lottie, it’s me,’ he called as he entered the flat, making his way to the sitting room. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Not too bad, dear. I’ve taken a couple of aspirin and it’s eased the pain. What are you doing home so early?’

‘I’ll just make us a drink and then tell you all about it. What would you like?’

‘A cup of cocoa, please, then I’ll have an early night.’ She followed him into the kitchen, watching as he measured milk into a saucepan. ‘What’s wrong, John? Have you had a row with Sally?’

He sighed deeply, turning slowly to face her. ‘She’s been doing that awful spiritual healing, Lottie.’

‘No – I can’t believe it!’ she gasped.

‘I’m afraid it’s true. She admitted it to me, and what’s more she’s going to carry on with it.’

‘Oh dear, what are you going to do?’

‘I don’t know,’ he answered, pouring hot milk into the mugs and passing one to Lottie. ‘She said that if I can’t accept it, our engagement is off.’

‘Sally said that! What on earth has come over the girl?’

‘It seems that she’s no longer prepared to see her grandmother in pain without trying to help her.’ He shrugged. ‘Maybe she’s right. She threw it at me that Jesus healed the sick, and that’s something I can’t deny.’

‘John, you know our church is strictly against the use of psychic powers.’

‘Not all denominations feel that way, Auntie. Some churches have healing services.’

‘Yes, I know they do, darling.’ She shook her head. ‘Well, come on, we had better put our heads together and decide what to do.’

They returned to the sitting room and sat side by side on the sofa as they sipped their cocoa.

Lottie then reached out and stroked his hair. ‘Are you still going to marry her, John?’

‘Of course I am. We agreed that she’s perfect. A lot of suspicions at work have been allayed since we got engaged and there’s even a whisper of promotion.’

‘Oh, how wonderful, darling,’ Lottie enthused. She tipped her head to one side, a thoughtful expression on her face. ‘How about bending a little, allowing Sally to use spiritual healing on her gran, but not on anyone el …’She paused, clutching the pit of her stomach.

‘You’re in pain, aren’t you? Please, Auntie, I really do think you should see the doctor. In fact, I’ll make you an appointment in the morning.’

‘Don’t fuss, my dear, I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep.’ She swallowed the last of her cocoa and stood up, leaning forward slightly as though to ease the pain. ‘Good night sweetie, I’ll see you in the morning.’

John’s eyes followed his aunt as she left the room, worry creasing his brow. Sally had said she could see something in her aura, and he had to admit that Lottie did look worse. He shook his head worriedly, determined to make an appointment for her to see the doctor, despite her protests.

For the first time he faced the thought of his aunt’s mortality. She had taken him on when he was seven years old, after his parents had been killed in a bombing raid during the war. He had been evacuated to Devon at the time and still had vivid memories of the day Lottie had turned up to break the news. He swallowed. She had become his rock: his mother, father, and friend.

When at eighteen he had plucked up the courage to reveal his secret, she had accepted it without judgement, offering her help and support. Oh Lottie, he thought, what would I do without you? Please God, please let Sally be wrong.

Lottie, clenching her teeth against the pain, climbed into bed. John’s marriage to Sally couldn’t go wrong now, it just couldn’t! She was desperate to see him settled before the end, which she knew was inevitable.

She thought about her mother, and how she had died when John was just four years old. It hadn’t taken Lottie long to recognise that her symptoms were the same, and remembering her mother’s agony at the end, she prayed that God would give her the strength to endure it.

Although they weren’t close, it had been a shock when her father died just six months later, almost as though he couldn’t live without the woman he had been married to for over forty years. She remembered how she had felt then at losing both her parents; although an adult, she had felt like an orphan.

Her thoughts turning to John again, she shook her head in despair. She had to protect him, to hide her illness from him for as long as possible. How she treasured their relationship, a relationship that had come about so unexpectedly when her brother and his wife had been killed.

There had been nobody else left to claim John, just her, and she would never forget how she felt when she went to collect him from the farm he had been evacuated to in Devon. Those feelings had left her plagued with guilt, a guilt that would never go away, no matter how hard she tried to assuage it.

Another sharp pain made her gasp and she closed her eyes, praying inwardly. Please God, please give me a little more time.

S
ally hardly slept on Sunday night. She tossed and turned, wondering if she had done the right thing, yet what choice did she have? Her gran needed continual healing and she had to help her. Oh John, she agonised, why can’t you understand?

She finally drifted off to sleep in the early hours of the morning, waking to her mum’s shout that it was time to get up, and ineffectually tried to cover the dark circles under her eyes with Pond’s cream and face powder.