Never Say Goodbye (21 page)

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Authors: Susan Lewis

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary, #Romance, #Contemporary Fiction, #Literary

BOOK: Never Say Goodbye
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‘I wish he had hung out with more girls,’ Josie retorted crossly. ‘He might not be where he is now if he had.’

‘He’s where he is now because he was trying to prove he was one of the lads, when he’s never been that.’

They walked on in silence.

‘You wouldn’t have a problem with it, would you?’ Lily pressed.

Josie didn’t have to think for long. After all, Ryan was her son, so nothing he did would ever make her stop loving him. ‘No, I wouldn’t,’ she replied, ‘but I dread to think how your father would take it.’

Lily sighed. ‘Yeah, well I don’t suppose he’d be thrilled, but I bet it wouldn’t be that much of a surprise.’

‘Oh, I think it would,’ Josie corrected. ‘He’s never said anything like that to me, so I don’t think it’s ever even occurred to him.’ Suddenly she felt her heartbeat slowing with dread. ‘If you’re right,’ she said, glancing at Lily, ‘isn’t that going to make it even worse for him where he is?’

Resting her head against her mother’s as they stopped at a crossing, Lily said, ‘I don’t know, but if he’s got the chaplain as a friend, that’s surely no bad thing.’

Unable to make her mind up about that, Josie walked with it for a while, and finally said, ‘To be honest, I really don’t mind whether he’s gay, straight, transvestite or something I’ve never even heard of, just as long as he’s happy. The same goes for you.’

Smiling, Lily hugged her arm. ‘I’m definitely happy,’ she assured her. ‘I’ve got so much to look forward to this year, what with graduating and the wedding, how could I not be?’

Realising she couldn’t even begin to answer that with the truth, Josie lowered her brolly as they reached the bus shelter, and to keep her mind off everything else she encouraged Lily to chat about guest lists, hats and whether to go vintage with the car, or see if Dad knew someone who could cut them a deal for a Roller.

There would be plenty of time to worry about her appointment with the oncologist when she was there on Monday. No need to do it now.

‘Shall I tell you what I love most about you, Auntie Bel?’ Nell whispered sleepily.

Bel’s eyes twinkled as she knelt next to the bed and rested her arms beside her niece. ‘Go on then,’ she whispered back.

Gazing up from her pillow, her sweet little face flushed from her bath, Nell said, ‘It’s that you’re just like Mummy, only better because you’re still here.’

Bel’s heart twisted as she smoothed Nell’s hair. ‘But you understand why Mummy isn’t here, don’t you?’ she asked.

Nell nodded. ‘I know she died, but I don’t know why she had to. Oscar says people have to go when their number is up, but I don’t think Mummy had a number.’

‘Oscar’s just using a phrase some people do when they talk about people who’ve died. Mummy had to go because she got sick and there wasn’t any way the doctors could make her well again. They tried, but in the end she was in a lot of pain so it was for the best that she went.’

Nell’s eyes were troubled. ‘Where did she go?’

‘I’m not sure, my darling. No one’s ever been able to find out where we go when we die, but they do say it’s a much better place than here, with no pain and lots of happiness.’

‘My teacher says she went to heaven.’

Glad to think the teacher had said that, even if she didn’t believe in such a place herself, Bel said, ‘I think she probably did.’

Nell frowned. ‘She wouldn’t go to hell, would she?’

‘Oh no, not Mummy. She was much too lovely a person for that.’

Nell’s eyes gazed trustingly into hers. ‘You’re a lovely person too,’ she said, starting to smile. ‘You’re my favourite person in the whole wide world,’ and throwing her arms round Bel’s neck she treated her to a mighty hug.

‘And you and Oscar are mine,’ Bel told her. ‘And I think Daddy’s your favourite person too, isn’t he?’

‘Oh yes,’ Nell gasped, realising she’d forgotten. ‘He’s definitely my favourite too.’

‘And Kristina.’ She deliberately didn’t make it a question.

Nell’s bottom lip jutted forward. ‘Yes, I like Kristina too,’ she conceded. ‘Oscar says she might have babies with Daddy. Do you think she will?’

Feeling herself resisting the very thought, Bel said, ‘It’s certainly possible. Wouldn’t you like a little brother or sister?’

Nell’s face puckered. ‘I’m not sure. If it was a sister I might like it. Are you going to have any babies?’

‘I don’t think so,’ Bel whispered. ‘Now it’s time you were asleep.’

‘Can I have a story?’

‘You’ve already had one. Close your eyes and think happy thoughts and when you get up in the morning we’ll finish digging our vegetable patch.’

After tucking her in and pressing a kiss to her cheek, Bel turned out the light and went to check on Oscar. Finding him already lost to the world, she switched off his light too and leaving both their bedroom doors ajar, she returned to the chaos they’d left downstairs.

It didn’t take long to tidy up, or to pour herself a large glass of wine; what took a little more time was making herself sit down at the computer to start sending emails to her old friends. It had to be done, she kept telling herself, or she was going to moulder away here in Kesterly with no adult company apart from Nick and Kristina, who were too kind to tell her it was time to move on. It would cramp their style somewhat if she was no longer on hand to babysit, of course; it was also going to tear her apart not to see the children as often as she did now.

However, she simply couldn’t go on the way she was.

‘Have you considered one of the online dating agencies?’ Mrs Fairclough, her cleaner, had asked when she’d come in on Friday and found Bel in a state of utter despair. ‘I know it’s none of my business, but I reckon you’re lonely, that’s what you are, and it’s not right, a smashing young girl like you. You should be out there enjoying yourself, making the most of all the lovely things God has given you.’

Like money and looks and perfect health
, she hadn’t added, but Bel had known she was thinking it, and who could blame her when she was right? Bel had been blessed in ways plenty of people could only dream about, and it wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate what she had, she simply couldn’t find the will, or the confidence, to pick herself up and start rebuilding her world. She thought about it a lot, and kept telling herself to get on with it, but even now as she sat gazing at the screen she could feel herself shrinking inside.

‘So what do you want?’ she asked herself aloud, as if she had the power to make anything happen. Some might say she did if she put her mind to it, but even they would have to concede she’d have a problem trying to bring back the dead.

If her mother were still alive, maybe Talia would be too
. She knew it was crazy to think Talia had been taken to punish Bel for what she’d done to their mother, but it was how it felt and she could never make it go away.

You have to try,
she could hear Talia saying.
What happened to me had nothing to do with Mummy.

She had to think of something to do with her life. There were any number of properties out there she could breathe new life into, and more charities she could become involved with, but no matter what she did for either, at the end of each day when she returned home there would still only be her and these four walls. She needed someone to talk to, a friend she could confide in, a lover, even, who’d take her out of herself for a while.

No, not a lover. She could never have one of those again.

She’d made too many disastrous attempts at relationships in the past to run the risk of another when she was feeling so vulnerable and unable to cope. Perhaps, if it could be someone like Harry, it might be different, but Harry was married and even if that didn’t mean anything to him, it certainly did to her. She was sure it did mean something to him though, and his suggestion of her accompanying him to the gallery no doubt had a lot more to do with her being the artist’s daughter than with some clandestine sort of date.

How perverse fate was, using him to bring her father back into her life. Or into her mind, anyway.

Deciding that she simply wasn’t in the right mood to start making contact with her old friends tonight, she got up from the computer and went to flick through the TV. Finding nothing she felt like watching, she poured herself another glass of wine and went to run a bath.
Where are you going to run it?
she could hear Talia teasing.
Make sure you catch it if it goes too fast
, she’d cry.
Will they fit in the linen cupboard?
she’d ask when someone folded their arms.
Make sure you don’t drop it,
she’d say if Bel tossed her head. It was a silly little pastime that had kept them entertained when they were young, made even funnier by the fact that no one else knew what they were talking about. They’d explained their jokes to their mother, of course, they’d shared most things with her, but not with their father. It had been to forget the times spent with him that they’d started the game.

Covering her face with her hands as though to block out the past was about as effective as using them to empty a bath. It would always be there, as irrefutable and unchangeable as the fact that she hated him as much as ever, probably even more.

Now that Mummy’s dead and we’re about to start college
, she and Talia had written in a letter only days after their sixteenth birthday,
we have no need of you in our lives any more. Nor do we have any reason to stay silent about the things you did when we were too young to understand or defend ourselves. Out of love and respect for Mummy we are trying to put it behind us, but if you ever attempt to be in touch with us again you have our solemn promise that we will go to the police.

So what was he going to think when he found out she wanted tickets to his show? Being as arrogant as he was, and as blame-free as he clearly considered himself, he’d probably assume she was ready to let bygones be bygones so they could take up being father and daughter again. She might have laughed at that if it hadn’t made her feel sick to her very soul.

She was sorry she couldn’t get the tickets for Harry herself, but it would be best all round if Nick made the call. Though Nick had never actually met her father, Edwin was sure to know his son-in-law’s name and was no more likely to refuse him than he was to refuse her. She’d talk to Nick when he came for the children tomorrow. It would be a relief to share this with him, since harbouring secrets about her father was reminding her far too much of the way she’d been forced to keep silent when she was young.

Time to move on, Bel,
she could hear Talia saying.
It really is time to move on.

Chapter Nine


WHY DON’T WE
have a look into fostering?’ Jeff suggested, glancing up from the morning news as Josie came down the stairs. ‘They’re saying social services are crying out for people to take on kids in this area.’

Josie stopped in disbelief, the undrunk glasses of water she’d brought down with her spilling over her hands. ‘You’ve always been against it,’ she reminded him, wondering why, today of all days, when it could hardly be less possible, it should suddenly come up. Of course he didn’t know she was seeing the oncologist, but even so, why couldn’t he have opened his mind to it years ago when she’d practically begged him to consider it?

‘Yeah, well, when needs must and all that,’ he responded, taking a bite of his toast. ‘It’ll bring in a bit of extra cash, and at the same time it’ll stop us getting stung for that bedroom tax.’

‘You can’t foster children based on financial needs,’ she retorted irritably, moving on to the kitchen. ‘We have to do it because we care.’

‘We do. Well, you more than me, I have to admit, but I expect I could get used to it, provided they’re properly house-trained and don’t cause any trouble.’

‘Some of them are bound to be troublemakers,’ she told him. ‘You would be too if you came from the kind of backgrounds they do. Anyway, I don’t think it’s a good idea.’

Surprised, he said, ‘Well you’ve changed your tune. You used to be all for it . . .’

‘Yes, and for the right reasons, but now’s not the time.’

Seeming mystified by that, he asked, ‘So when is?’

‘I don’t know. After Lily gets married, I suppose. We’ll need her room till then.’

‘We’ve got another . . .’

‘That’s Ryan’s, and I don’t want to talk about it any more so let’s change the subject.’

Glowering in her direction, though unable to see her as she flitted about the kitchen, he said, ‘All right, let’s discuss you getting yourself down the jobcentre, shall we, because we can’t go on the way we are.’

‘Why don’t
you
go down the jobcentre?’ she snapped angrily. ‘It’s your car that’s in the shop again . . .’

‘It’s where I’m going this morning,’ he growled over her, ‘and there’s no need to get worked up about it. I was just trying to come up with a way of bringing in some money, and seeing that on the telly reminded me of how you used to go on about fostering. I thought you’d welcome the idea.’

‘Well I’ve changed my mind.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know, I just have. Do you want another cup of tea?’

Glancing into his cup and finding it empty, he said, ‘Yeah, why not? And some more toast if you’re making it. Oh bloody hell, look at that, they’ve only gone and put Frankie Baldwin on the transfer list. What are they thinking? He’s one of our best players.’

Tuning out of his grumbling, she slotted another slice of bread into the toaster and poured more boiling water into the teapot. She didn’t want any food herself, which was just as well since there was barely enough spread for one piece of toast, let alone two. If she could persuade Andy at the Spar to wait till Friday for paying, she could pick up a packet on her way home later. If he was feeling especially generous she might even be able to add a box of fish fingers to make some sandwiches for tea. Not very nutritious, but it was either that or eggs, since money was tighter than ever this week, and now Jeff’s car was out of action again their situation wasn’t going to get any better.

Feeling fussed and worried, she reached for the milk, dropped the carton and swore as it spilled all over her boots.

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