Days Like These (4 page)

Chapter Six

Something had woken her. She didn't know what, though, and for a few moments she lay still, listening hard, puzzled. Then she heard it again. The door chain! It was rattling. Someone was trying to get through the front door.

She was petrified. She held her breath and listened, not wanting to hear but unable not to hear. She bit the duvet to stop herself screaming with panic.

She glanced at the clock. Half-two. If only she had her mobile with her! But it was downstairs in her bag, which was in the kitchen, She didn't know what to do.

But she had to know who it was. She had to!

Terrified, she forced herself to get out of bed. She left the light switch alone. Light from the street lamps was enough for her to see her way out of the bedroom. She poised on the landing and gazed down the stairs. The inner door in the hall was closed. Did that mean whoever it was had not got inside yet?

She waited until she heard the chain rattle again. Then, suddenly emboldened, because the noise was coming from the other side of the front door, she made her way downstairs.

She opened the inner hall door and stared at the big, solid front door. The chain was still in place. And the bolt. But someone was fiddling with the lock. She took a deep breath and switched all the lights on she could reach.

'Go away!' she yelled. 'I'm calling the police.'

The BT phone was in the hall. She grabbed it and began dialling 999, unable to recall if that number had changed.

'Meg! Is that you?'

She paused, frozen. Then she dropped the phone and her hand flew to her mouth. Jamie!

'Open the door, Meg.'

'What do you want?'

'Come on, Meg! Open the damned door.'

'What do you want, Jamie? It's the middle of the night.'

'It never is. No, no, no. That's all wrong. It's … early yet.'

She grimaced. She recognised the signs. He'd been drinking.

'Go away, Jamie! I mean it. I'm calling the police. I've called them. They're on their way.'

Stand-off. It continued for several minutes. Then there was quiet. She listened. Was he there still?

A car door slammed. The engine started with a roar. The car took off at speed.

She slumped against the wall, exhausted and scared she'd done the wrong thing. Too late, it occurred to her Jamie was probably in no state to be driving. She should have let him in.

*

'So what happened?' Robert asked.

'How do you mean?'

'Well, something has changed in your life. That's obvious.'

She glanced around at the lunch-time crowd, playing for time.

'It's very busy here,' she said, seeing the lines of customers with their trays, the occupied tables everywhere and the harassed staff frantically clearing space for new arrivals.

'Isn't it?'

She knew he was still staring at her, demanding an answer. She sighed and returned his gaze. They looked at each other, and, unaccountably, began to laugh.

'It's not funny!' she protested.

'No, it's not.'

'I don't know why I'm laughing.'

'Relief, probably,' Robert suggested. 'I'm someone you can tell.'

'Oh? You?'

'Me.'

'Really?'

'It means you don't have to keep it to yourself any more. You don't want to bother other people or have them speculating, but they do anyway. Speculate, that is. Not knowing the facts doesn't stop them talking.'

She thought there was a lot in that. Others in the office would be aware something had happened, something was different. They would have picked up bits and pieces, and they would have filled in the gaps themselves. Robert was right. So why not tell him?

'Jamie left me,' she said. 'A few weeks ago.'

'Oh, I'm sorry, Meg.' He grimaced. 'I did wonder …. Any particular reason?'

She shook her head. 'None I know about. He just …. just wanted a change, I expect.'

It sounded an unlikely explanation even to her. Not for the first time, she wondered if there was another woman involved.

'No chance of a reconciliation?

'I don't think so. Not now. There's nothing there any more. I'm over wanting him back, and I'm over blaming myself for him leaving.'

She looked up.

Robert said, 'I know what it's like, being on your own.'

'Elizabeth?'

He nodded and added, 'When she died I was devastated.'

He looked it now, too. It wasn't the same thing, though, she thought. Not at all. Worse, probably.

'I had to change something in my life,' he continued. 'So I changed jobs and came here, where people didn't know anything about me. I couldn't bear the thought of any more fuss and sympathy. I just wanted to do my job, and go home to my kids at the end of the day.'

He's just like me, she thought with surprise. I haven't wanted people being sorry for me either.

'Don't ask me why,' he added. 'I can't explain it. I can't explain anything. Not any more.'

'I understand,' she said, touching the back of his hand lightly with her fingers.

He looked her in the eyes and smiled. 'I think you do,' he said softly. 'I really think you do.'

'I've got another problem at the moment,' Robert said. 'I need to go out again tomorrow night, and I was wondering…'

'Need a babysitter?'

'Well, I don't. But…’

'Kirsty and Sean might?'

He nodded and chuckled. 'They liked it when you came that other time. They've never stopped talking about you.'

'Oh?'

'Good things!' he hastened to add. 'They really took to you.'

'I liked them, as well. So what's the problem?'

He paused, thinking something through, and then said, 'If you could manage to help tomorrow night, perhaps we could take you out for lunch at the weekend? Go to the Fish Quay at North Shields, and have fish and chips?'

'What? Ruin my diet – and my figure?'

'You could miss out the chips? Have a sardine instead of a cod?'

'Thanks.'

But she fancied it. It sounded like fun. A change, anyway. Being with people.

'It will be good practice,' she said, 'babysitting.'

He raised an eyebrow.

She gave a wry smile. 'One of the things Jamie left me with was a baby to carry.'

'You're kidding?' he said, staring hard at her.

She shook her head. 'No. I'm pregnant.'

'How do you feel about that?'

'I'm not sure yet. I still haven't got used to the idea.'

She knew what was on his mind. He didn't need to ask.

'I'm going to have the baby,' she said. 'I've made up my mind about that.'

'Good.'

He smiled at her. She felt it was with approval.

'What's the problem you were on about?' she asked, glancing at her watch and thinking they couldn't afford to spend much more time over lunch.

He grimaced and said, 'The in-laws.'

'Oh?'

'Don't get me wrong. They're good people, but they're giving me difficulty.'

'What is it?'

He took his time, re-shuffling the salt and pepper pots with the sugar bowl and the milk jug before he replied.

'You'd be no good in a television interview,' she said gently.

'What?'

'People would think why doesn't he just answer the question!'

He smiled.

'Well, what it is,' he said, 'is they think the kids would be better off living with them now.'

'Because …?'

'They say a man alone is in no position to look after two young children, and see to their needs, as well as go to work.'

'And how long have you been doing it?'

'Two years.'

'And you haven't been able to prove the point?'

He shook his head. 'They're very nice about it, but they insist they're right.'

'What do you think?'

He pushed his chair back, shrugged and said, 'Sometimes I think they might be right. They're their grandchildren. Maybe I'm not doing everything that's needed.'

'Plenty of women are in your position. Single parents. I'm going to be one, myself, before too long.'

Robert nodded, smiled and pushed his chair back. 'Come on,' he said, his moment of self-doubt apparently over, 'We'd better get back.'

*

Kirsty was adorable, if a little worrying.

'Are you our new Mummy?' she asked.

Meg laughed. 'No, Kirsty, I'm afraid not. But I would like to be your very good friend.'

The little girl seemed satisfied with that. Not too disappointed, anyway. Meg continued helping her get ready for bed.

It was so sad, though, she reflected. Poor little thing. She wouldn't even remember her mother. She just had the idea, the concept of Mummy, in her head. A female version of daddy, presumably? No. That didn't sound right. She shook her head.

She found Sean watching television. A natural history programme. Elephants were pushing down trees in order to eat the leaves that grew out of reach even of giraffes. He seemed fascinated. Meg quietly settled down to watch the programme with him.

She didn't dare interrupt him with banal questions about subjects such as when his bedtime was. He was rapt. A new David Attenborough in the making, she thought with a smile.

'Good?' she asked after the programme finished.

'Yes,' he said solemnly. He hesitated and then decided to tell her a little about it. 'The mother elephant is the oldest member of the herd, and the most important.'

'Oh?'

'She carries all the herd's secrets and knowledge in her head.'

'Like what?'

She wasn't teasing him, not really, but she did like to hear him thinking. He was such a serious little boy. So solemn!

'Well,' he said judiciously, 'those elephants live in a desert, and the most important thing for them is knowing where to find water.'

'So what do they do?'

'They go to the places where they have always been able to get water. For hundreds of years. Thousands even. Hundreds of thousands.'

'A long time anyway?'

He nodded but wasn't to be deflected. 'Sometimes they have to dig for it, under the sand. They drink all the water in one place. Then they go somewhere else, to another water place. In a few weeks' time they come back to the first one, and the water has built up again.'

He looked at her, still solemn faced.

'What, Sean?'

'The thing is the mother elephant remembers where to go, and takes all the other elephants to the right places. If they couldn't find one of their places, they would have no water and they would die.'

Now she saw what he was driving at, where he was going. But she was unable to deflect him. All she could do was let him see it through to the end.

'She won't forget,' he said quietly, 'but what if she dies? What will happen then?'

'They'll manage, Sean. Somehow they'll manage.'

She reached out and wrapped her arms around him. He came to her and burrowed his face in her breast.

'They might not,' came his muffled whisper.

'They will! The others will remember her. They will still love her, and remember what she showed them. They will carry on without her, just as she would want them to do.'

'Do you think so?' he asked anxiously.

'Yes! Together, they will manage. After all, there have been elephants in the world for an awfully long time.'

His breathing became regular, with little gasps and snorts occasionally. She risked peering down at him, moving a fold of her jumper slightly to see his closed eyes.

Dear God! she thought humbly. This poor little boy. Such a good little boy. Such a lot on his mind. No wonder he's so solemn.

They were still there, together, when Robert returned. He stood poised in the doorway, a question on his face. She smiled and gently shook her head. He smiled back. There was no problem.

Chapter Seven

'Are you doing anything on Saturday?' Meg asked.

Robert raised his eyebrows. She laughed. 'Don't worry! It's just that Kirsty said she likes sheep and ….'

'She's never seen any.'

'Exactly. That's what Sean said.'

'He's right.'

'Of course he is.'

'Are you patronising me?' he asked with a fierce scowl.

'Of course not.'

'Stop it right now!'

She laughed again and shook her head, but she stood her ground. 'So I was wondering if you had plans for Saturday. If not, could I borrow Kirsty? I'm going to see my parents ….'

'I'm sure Sean would be pleased.'

'Sean can come as well, if he wants. You, too, for that matter. I was thinking of going up to my parents' place. They live near Alnwick.'

'Lots of sheep there, are there?'

'Any amount. It would give Kirsty the chance to see the real thing.'

Robert pushed his chair back from the desk. 'That would be great, Meg. But are you sure you want to take us?'

'I would enjoy it.'

*

Saturday came. They travelled north in Robert's car. All of them. No-one wanted to miss out on the opportunity to see real, live sheep. And Kirsty was most anxious to pass on her knowledge.

'They're only little,' she assured Meg. 'And they don't bite.'

'Oh? That's good.'

'They live in nests, under the ground,' Kirsty added.

'Really?'

Sean, in the front passenger seat, sniggered. 'She means rabbits!' he said.

'I do not!' Kirsty snapped back.

'In nests, under the ground?' Meg said. 'How interesting.'

'Yes, it is,' Kirsty said, satisfied that someone was taking her seriously.

*

Meg could see her mother was a bit flummoxed. It wasn't surprising.

'Where are your sheep?' Kirsty demanded.

'Sheep? I haven't got any, dear.'

'Oh!'

Disappointment spilled across the kitchen.

'But there's some living in the field at the bottom of the garden,' Mum added.

That was better.

'But all we have here in the house is a cat.'

'A pussy cat?'

'Yes. She's got kittens, as well. Would you like to see them?'

Kirsty's face lit up and she happily set off outside with her guide.

One hurdle surmounted, Meg thought with relief. The next one to be faced would be to do with the local sheep not living in nests underground. That would be a big disappointment.

More happily, her father was soon in conversation with Robert. The two of them went off to see the Morris Minor Shooting Brake her dad was rebuilding – and had been for about fifteen years, to Meg's knowledge.

'That leaves you and me, Sean,' Meg pointed out. 'Would you like to see the kittens, as well?'

Sean looked around carefully, as if to satisfy himself a better option wasn't on offer, and nodded.

So the day, and the visit, had begun well.

It continued well, too. Almost to the end.

Mum had prepared a bountiful lunch, which was enjoyed by all. Robert marvelled over the Morris Minor Shooting Brake. The children played with the kittens and explored the garden. And Kirsty got to see more sheep in the neighbouring field than she had ever imagined existed. Diplomatically, she overlooked the fact that they didn't appear to live in holes in the ground.

'They're lovely children,' Mum said, as Meg helped her with the washing-up.

Meg agreed.

'You said Robert's wife died?'

'Yes. A couple of years' ago.'

'What a shame. The poor children.'

Mum was quiet for a while after that.

'What?' Meg asked eventually.

'Nothing.'

'Oh, come on!' Meg insisted. 'You've got something on your mind, Mum. I can tell.'

'It's nothing, really.'

'Mum!'

'Well, it's just that you've got enough on your plate, Meg, it seems to me. Here you are, carrying your own baby, Jamie missing, going to work every day…. It's too much. You can't wear yourself out with other people's children, as well.'

Meg stopped and stared at her.

'What did you say Robert is?' Mum asked pointedly. 'A friend?'

'I work with him, Mum. And, yes, he is a friend!'

Infuriatingly, her mother inclined her head, as if to say : There you are, then!

'Mum, Robert and the children have been the one bright spot in my life lately. I enjoy being with them.'

'But you don't want to do anything that might put Jamie off coming back, do you?'

'Oh, Mum!'

'You don't want your baby to be without a father, do you?'

'What rubbish you talk, Mum! The baby has a father – Jamie. Nothing can take that away. It doesn't matter where Jamie is. He's still …. Oh, what's the use!'

She flung the tea towel across the kitchen and stalked out.

*

It was when she opened the curtains the next morning that she saw it for the first time for three months. She recognised it immediately. Her heart began to pound, and she shivered as her face began to burn. Then she stepped back, closed her eyes and tried to work out what it meant.

In the end, she had no alternative. She simply had to know. She ran a brush through her hair quickly, slipped on a pair of sandals and made her way outside to the red BMW.

Jamie looked to be asleep. His head was back against the head rest, his eyes were closed and his mouth was open. Meg stared, and waited a moment while she tried to control her racing heart. Then she rapped on the window.

Jamie's head jerked round. He gazed at her sleepily. Then the lazy smile she knew so well spread slowly across his face. He reached for the handle and opened the door.

'You're a sight for sore eyes, Meg!'

'What are you doing here, Jamie?'

'I came to see you. What do you think?'

'Came to see me?'

She felt stupid as she said it. She hoped she wasn't going to continue saying stupid things, but she knew there were no guarantees. She couldn't help it. Nothing had prepared her for this.

Jamie opened the door wide and planted his feet on the pavement.

'What are you doing?' she demanded.

Her voice sounded unnaturally shrill even to her.

'Well,' he said with that smile of his that had always opened doors, and her heart, 'I thought I would say hello, and possibly you would give me a peck on the cheek to welcome me home. Then we might go into the house together, maybe have a cup of coffee, and we'd take it from there. How does that sound?'

She was so furious she was blushing. She knew that but she couldn't stop.

'Just like that?' she said.

'Just like that,' he agreed with a cheeky grin. 'What do you say?'

There were all sorts of things she could have said, and should have said. The thoughts tumbled over each other. But she couldn't get them into any sort of order. The words wouldn't come.

Besides, there were people in the street, people passing by. Some gave them curious looks. The neighbour from two houses away set off at pace in his little 4-wheel drive Suzuki, heading flat-out for the nearest traffic jam. A girl from along the street passed on her way to work. The elderly woman across the street opened her door and attempted to tug free the newspaper stuck in her letter box. Then she gave up, and stood and stared, senses alert to the possibility of a dramatic confrontation. A light, cold drizzle began to fall. Meg shivered and turned to head indoors.

She went straight through to the kitchen and grabbed the kettle. While she filled it, she heard the front door slam shut. She closed her eyes for a moment, grimaced and continued.

'I must say it all looks very nice in here,' Jamie said from the doorway. 'So homely and inviting. You've kept things pretty nice, Meg.'

'What did you expect? That the world would fall apart without you?'

'No, not at all. I knew you would cope. You're not like me, Meg. You get ill, or you're depressed, you've got the strength to continue as if nothing's happened. Not like me,' he added with a rueful chuckle, as he lowered himself onto a chair.

It was proving harder than she'd hoped. He'd prepared for this visit, and knew what he wanted out of it. She hadn't – and didn't. It had been thrust upon her without warning, and she didn't know what she wanted. How could she?

'What's that supposed to mean?' she snapped. 'What are you telling me?'

'Nothing, nothing at all!' he assured her with a tired wave. 'That's just how things are. You're strong. I'm not. That's all there is to it. Crisis, and I fall apart. You pick yourself up, and on you go. Not exactly as if nothing's happened, perhaps, but getting on with things.'

She didn't reply. The kettle boiled. She made two mugs of instant coffee and planted them on the table. Then she sat down on the far side.

'What do you want, Jamie?' she demanded. 'You've been gone all this time. Now you turn up at the crack of dawn ….'

'I didn't want to risk waking you, Meg. So I thought I'd sit in the car for a while and ….'

'That's not what you thought last time you appeared. It was the middle of the night then. Remember?'

'I must have been drunk,' he said airily. Then he peered closely at her. 'You do look well, Meg! How are you?'

She shrugged that aside and hoped he wouldn't notice she'd put on weight.

'What do you want?' she repeated.

'Want? Me?' He gave her a sad little smile. 'I've come home, Meg, if you'll have me. I've come home.'

She stared at him for a long moment. Then she gave a little yelp, stood up and fled.