Nest of Sorrows (45 page)
‘And if they don’t?’ His eyes were filled with fear. ‘How the hell do I earn my living?’
Tenderly, Kate stroked the hair from his damp forehead. ‘Let me worry about that,’ she said. ‘Let someone else take charge for a change . . .’
It was a beautiful April day.
Kate drove her new car along Church Road, past the bank where Maureen had had her fracas all those years ago, past the shops and the church and the old village hall. Almost everything remained the same. In Edgeford, not much changed over the years. There was a new corrugated scout hut next to the Post Office, and Kate parked outside this building for a while. Perhaps the fights for space in the village hall were less frequent now? She needed space too, just a few last moments of aloneness during which she might think, assess, speculate about the future.
Michael was asleep on the back seat, hiccuping now and then after that bad bout of crying. He hadn’t liked leaving Steve. Neither had she, because she loved him. It was a hopeless love, but that didn’t make it any less strong. Steve had given so much, had taken nothing. Perhaps if their relationship had been physical, she would not have cared so much for him. The end of an era. Kate sat and studied the village stocks. The past, no matter how bad it had been, was safe because it was known. The future? What did it hold?
Michael coughed and she turned to look at her son. He had kicked up one hell of a fuss when he’d noticed his things being packed. ‘Going to a nice house’ and ‘seeing Daddy and Melanie’ meant little to him. He wanted continuity; he wanted to stay in the only home he could remember. But no-one could remain in the past. So she sat in the present, wondering, as so many have wondered, whether or no this particular present was her correct gateway to the future.
There were Boothroyd puppets in the Post Office window. In classrooms all over Britain, five-year-olds were verbalizing Kate’s cartoons, taking their first steps towards reading. She had done all that. With her hands and her head, with her memories of Jemima and all the mallards, Kate had achieved a great deal.
She sighed heavily. If she hadn’t left home, then Geoff would never have driven to see her on that fateful day. If she’d tried, like Maureen had tried, to be a good wife, a conventional middle-class woman, then Geoff would not be in a wheelchair now. So much to blame herself for! But if she’d stayed, there would have been no Boothroyd, no reading scheme, possibly no Kate! And Geoff might have had an accident anywhere, at any time. It was not her fault, surely? At least she had money now; at least she could replace his income.
It was going to be a long haul. She would have to learn to accept Geoff the way he was, just as he would have to accept her, warts and all. Poor little Michael was probably worst off, a new family to cope with, different surroundings, a complete change of life. It was easier for Kate; Kate had memories of this place. Michael had nothing to build on.
There was quite a crowd gathered on the open-plan lawn in front of number 50. Santosh and Chris, Phil and Maureen, Arthur and Rachel. And standing on the path was Melanie. It looked as if the girl had deliberately set herself aside so that she would be the first to welcome Mum and Michael. Her solitude touched Kate, made her feel guilty all over again. She climbed out of the car and lifted Michael on to the grass, where he made an immediate bee-line for Rachel.
Melanie opened her arms. ‘Welcome home, Mum. I’m so glad . . .’ The rest was muffled by tears and a tight hug. Then they all surrounded Kate with smiles, handshakes and unsteady laughter. Everyone here understood the size of the step she was taking.
Geoff trolleyed his way down the side drive, his right hand shaking on the control of his motor wheelchair. And suddenly, everyone melted away, disappeared into the house, leaving the two of them together.
She looked at him for a long time. He would never walk again. The rest of his life would be spent in bed or on a chair.
‘I’m sorry it had to be this way, Kate,’ he said gruffly. ‘I didn’t want you to have to come home. I wanted you to want to come home.’
Kate smiled. ‘I’m here. That’s a start, isn’t it?’ He needed her. For the first time in her life, she was needed by an adult. ‘We’ll just have to get by as best we can. Are you still in the granny flat?’
He shrugged. ‘Can’t get upstairs.’
‘Then we’ll have a lift put in, buy you a wheelchair for upstairs too.’
‘Thanks.’
‘What for?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Neither do I.’
She left him sitting there while she walked across to the brook. Jemima, or perhaps one of her daughters, was leading an armada of ducklings in a straight line through the rushes. On the opposite bank sat a perfect Boothroyd, a pure mallard with all the greens and blues that made him so wonderfully elegant and dinner party-ish.
An arm touched Kate’s shoulder. ‘Katherine? We’ve a meal on, a buffet. Are you coming in, lass?’
Kate turned and looked into the sad-happy face that belonged to Rachel Bottomley. ‘I’m scared, Mam,’ she whispered.
‘You’ll be all right.’
‘Will I?’
‘Aye. Come in now. That lad of yours has demolished a plate of best salmon butties already. He seems quite at home.’
‘Oh, Mother!’
‘What?’
Kate swivelled on her heel and looked at all of it. House, garden, husband in wheelchair, happy faces at the window. She sighed. ‘I don’t know what. Just, oh, Mother, that’s all.’
THE END
Ruth Hamilton was born in Bolton and has spent most of her life in Lancashire. Her novels,
A Whisper to the Living, With Love From Ma Maguire, Nest of Sorrows, Billy London’s Girls, Spinning Jenny, The September Starlings, A Crooked Mile, Paradise Lane, The Bells of Scotland Road, The Dream Sellers, The Corner House, Miss Honoria West
and
Mulligan’s Yard
, are all published by Corgi Books and she is a national bestseller. She has written a six-part television series and over forty children’s programmes for independent television. Ruth Hamilton now lives in Liverpool with her family.
For more information on Ruth Hamilton and her books, see her website at:
A Whisper to the Living
With Love From Ma Maguire
Billy London’s Girls
Spinning Jenny
The September Starlings
A Crooked Mile
Paradise Lane
The Bells of Scotland Road
The Dream Sellers
The Corner House
Miss Honoria West
Mulligan’s Yard
and published by Corgi Books
TRANSWORLD PUBLISHERS
61–63 Uxbridge Road, London W5 5SA
A Random House Group Company
www.rbooks.co.uk
NEST OF SORROWS
A CORGI BOOK : 0 552 13755 3
Version 1.0 Epub ISBN: 9781446465653
First publication in Great Britain
printing history
Corgi edition published 1991
7 9 10 8 6
Copyright © Ruth Hamilton 1991
The right of Ruth Hamilton to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with Sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All the characters in this book are fictitious, any any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Corgi Books are published by Transworld Publishers
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