Songbird (2 page)

“Right then.” Scrambling out of his chair, Darren strode across the room to sort through the records. “Jude, how about opening another bottle of wine and I’ll put some good tunes on. There’s a Smiths’ LP in here somewhere, isn’t there?”

Judith objected. “Oh God, Morrissey is
so
depressing. Let’s listen to the Police instead. Oh, and that reminds me. Susie borrowed my Alanis Morissette tape. I’ll have to get it back before she lends it on, like she did with my Madonna one.”

“Hey! Don’t start taking over,” Robin joked. “Unless you fancy paying Abigail’s rent between the two of you?”

“I wouldn’t mind paying rent if I could live here,” Judith retaliated. “It’s got to be better than living in hall.”

“I second that!” Daz declared, lighting a roll-up. “I can’t see why you lot won’t let us share with you. When all’s said and done, there are four bedsits in this house. I could double up with you, Dave, and Judith could double up with one of you girls.”

“Not a snowdrop’s chance in hell, mate.” In a light-hearted way, Dave made his feelings known. “I’m not doubling up with anybody. I left four brothers behind at home, and I’ve got my own room at long last. And I am
not
giving it up for love nor money.”

Betsy and Abigail were of the same mind. “At the moment, we can chuck you out when we’ve had enough of you,” they joked.

“Yeah,” Dave said, laughingly addressing himself to Darren. “Gawd help us if we had to get up each morning and see your ugly mug.”

In no time at all, the Police were belting out their best, followed by some vintage Stones, and for a while, the friends drank the wine and chatted and smoked — until Darren decided to leap onto a chair and give a performance of his own, playing air guitar and screeching at the top of his voice along to “Black Sugar.”

“Put a sock in it,” Dave begged him. “You’ll have all the cats round.”

Abigail threw a cushion at him and Robin threatened to douse him with cold water. But nothing stopped him, until Betsy pulled the plug from the wall.

“Party poopers!” Climbing down from the chair, Daz went storming off into the kitchen in search of more booze.

“Does anybody mind if
I
choose the next record?” That was Betsy.

“
I
mind!” Daz returned to his seat empty-handed. “I’m not in the mood for listening to one of your soppy love songs.”

“Too bad,” she told him, “because whether you like it or not, we’re
all
having a turn at choosing.”

She picked out a Nat King Cole ballad, “When I Fall In Love,” and it came as no surprise when Darren immediately protested, “Bloody hell! Do we have to listen to
that
rubbish?”

“Shut up, misery.” Judith was rapidly going off him. She gave him a shove. “If that’s what Betsy wants, that’s fine by the rest of us, and if you don’t like it, you can go home, you awkward sod.”

Folding his arms, Darren slouched deeper into his chair and pointedly started doing the crossword in the local free paper.

As the smooth silky tones of Nat King Cole flowed through the room, the girls sang along.

Unaware that Robin was watching her with fond eyes, Betsy let the song wash over her. She loved Nat King Cole’s sensuous voice, and the words were so beautiful. Abigail had bought her the
Greatest Hits
CD last Christmas, and it was one of Betsy’s prized possessions.

It was when Judith stopped singing to cadge a cigarette from Darren, that Betsy thought she heard something. “Ssh!” Sitting bolt upright in her chair, she called for silence, and when everyone was attentive she said, “Listen — can you hear that?”

Against all his instincts, Darren found himself listening too, “Hey! There
is
somebody else singing…” He looked suspiciously from one to another. “Come on… what are you lot playing at?”

The rich contralto voice of a woman sailed through the wall, as she sang the song again, to herself. Even muffled, like this, the voice was hauntingly beautiful.

“Who on earth
is
that?” Robin asked into the hush.

Dave voiced all their thoughts. “It seems to be coming from next door,” he said.

Judith laughed, breaking the spell. “What! You can’t mean that strange old woman up at her window.”

“Never!” Darren was adamant. “I should think the best she could manage would be a croak. She gives me the heebie-jeebies, she does, spying on us from behind her net curtains, and creeping about in the dark.” He gave an exaggerated shiver. “There’s something dead weird about her. The Shadow-Thing…” With an evil grin, he made moving gestures with the tips of his fingers.

Even Abigail had to agree. “She is a bit frightening. I’ve never seen her out in daylight, yet as soon as it’s dark she goes scurrying down the street, hiding in the corners like a little hobbit.”

Darren gave a snort of disgust. “If you ask me, she’s not all there. I reckon somebody should put her out of her misery.”

“You’re a callous bastard,” Robin reprimanded him. “The poor woman’s obviously ill.”

“There you go then,” Daz insisted. “Like I said… Loopy Lou! They should put her in a home, for all our sakes.”

“Ssh!” Betsy was still listening; the woman’s voice was pure and powerful. “It’s
her
, I’m sure of it. It can’t be anybody else.”

Judith was cynical. “How could such a beautiful voice belong to such a strange-looking creature?”

Suddenly the singing came to an end and the silence was thick.

“I was in the paper shop the other day,” Dave told them all, “and she came in after me for some batteries and a box of matches. When she spoke to Mr. Hassan, the shopkeeper, her voice was so low it was almost inaudible.” He shrugged, bemused. “She seemed very nervous and a bit dithery. When she came rushing by me, she dropped her box of matches. Of course I stooped to pick it up.”

He could see her now. “She seemed such a sorry little thing, all depressed-looking and disheveled. But in that split second when she grabbed the matches from me, she looked up.” His voice sank to a whisper, as though talking to himself. “She had the most
amazing
eyes… chestnut-brown they were, and yet against the paleness of her skin they seemed dark as night. It was strange. Even after she’d gone I couldn’t get her out of my mind.”

He added thoughtfully, “I swear, I’ve never seen anyone look so frightened.”

“Ooh, Dave!” Grinning spitefully, Darren sat bolt upright. “You’re done for now! She probably thought you were onto her. You’d best be careful, mate. Sounds to me like she’s bewitched you already.”

“Oh, do shut up!” Like everyone else, Abigail had long been curious about the old woman, but she had no time for Darren’s silliness. “I can’t help feeling sorry for her. I mean, what went wrong in her life, do you think?” She looked around at her friends. “What could have happened to make her like she is, so terrified of people, and so paranoid about going out in daylight?”

For a while, they discussed their neighbor, until Robin suddenly remembered he had promised to call his father. “I’d best get down to the phone in the hall and give my dad a quick ring.”

“Make him wait, why don’t you?” Having fallen out with his own family long ago, Darren bitterly resented those who stayed together. “He’s always giving you grief over wanting to be a doctor, instead of going into his poxy veterinary business. He made his choice and it’s time he let you make yours. For Chrissake, Rob! When will you stop running after him, like some frightened little kid!”

In the ensuing silence, all eyes were on Robin. A quiet guy, he was not easily roused into temper. But Darren’s words were harsh, and the tension almost palpable.

Getting up, his face set like stone, Rob crossed to where Darren lay slouched in an armchair. “You’d best explain what you meant by that,” he said, his voice low and trembling.

Shocked to see the dark anger in Rob’s face, and like the coward he was, Darren swiftly withdrew his comment. “I didn’t mean anything,” he replied curtly. “All I’m saying is, families aren’t what they’re cracked up to be. Look at me!” He held out his arms triumphantly. “I had the good sense to dump my family long ago, and now I’m much better off without them.”

“Really?” Robin regarded him with contempt. “Well, thankfully, you and I are very different. I would
never
turn my back on family. You see, the only family I have now is my father, and whatever the differences between us, I have no intention of ever dumping him. In fact, I love and respect him. Never a day goes by when I don’t thank my lucky stars that he’s around.”

His cold gaze was unswerving, “So tell me, Darren, do you have a problem with that?”

The other boy shook his head. “None whatsoever.”

“So, will we ever have this conversation again?”

“Not as far as I’m concerned, no.” Shaken by this unexpected confrontation, Darren the bully wanted the incident ended. “You and your dad are none of my concern.”

“Glad to hear it. So now — if it’s all right with you — I’ll be about my business.”

Robin was almost out of the door when Betsy grabbed her denim jacket and went after him. “I’ll come with you,” she said. “I could do with a change of scene myself.” Like the others, she had been appalled by Darren’s spiteful remarks.

As always, Robin saw Betsy as a true friend. “I’d like that, yes. Let’s go down to the callbox on the corner. Get a breath of air.”

When the front door was shut behind them Betsy glanced back to see their neighbor’s curtains twitch. “She’s watching us again,” the girl whispered with a smile.

Deep in thought, they walked on.

“Rob?”

“Mmm?”

“How do you really think she came to end up here, all alone and scared to go out?”

“It could have been any number of things,” he mused. “The loss of someone she loved, a disastrous business venture that left her short of money and friends, or it could have been a family fallout. Who can tell? Life has a way of kicking you in the teeth when you least expect it.”

Betsy’s curiosity was heightened. “You sound very bitter.”

“That’s because I am. But then I believe that whatever happens in life, and however devastated we are, we just have to make the best of what we’ve got and get on with it.”

Betsy sensed his sadness. “You never mention your mother,” she ventured nervously.

Robin did not answer. Instead, he cast his gaze to the ground and quickened his step.

“I’m here if you want to talk about it,” Betsy went on.

He shook his head. “Some things are best left unsaid.”

Affectionately squeezing his arm, Betsy apologized. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“I know that,” he replied. “Thanks for caring anyway.”

They continued walking down the street until they reached a low wall by an area of wasteland.

“Let’s sit down for a moment,” Robin said. A few moments later, much to Betsy’s surprise, he began to confide in her.

“I was just a kid of six, when my mother was involved in a car accident.” He paused and took a breath. Even now it was hard to talk about it. “It took them three hours to cut her out of the wreckage.”

He could recall every moment, of every tortuous day and night. “She was in a coma for weeks. In all that time, Dad and I never gave up hope, even though deep down, I think we knew she would never recover. One summer’s morning, she just slipped away…” He cleared his throat. “They said she didn’t suffer, that she wouldn’t have known anything.”

He took a moment to collect his thoughts. “Afterward, my dad changed beyond all recognition. He used to be always smiling and joking, the life and soul of the party. He adored my mother, and when she was gone, it was as if a big part of him went with her. He couldn’t seem to function any more… couldn’t work, didn’t sleep. For days he just wandered round the house in a trance.”

He grimaced. “Dad was well qualified. From an early age, he always loved animals; his one burning ambition was to have his own veterinary clinic. When he left college he became a junior assistant at the local vet’s… worked his way up, and now he has four reputable clinics across Bedfordshire.”

Betsy was impressed. “That’s quite an achievement,” she said. “And were you never interested in joining him?”

Robin shook his head. “Before I started school, I’d go with him on his calls sometimes.” He gave a chuckle. “It was all a bit scary and bloody.”

“But it didn’t put you off wanting to be a doctor?”

“No, just the opposite. It made me want to help ease pain and suffering… but in people, not animals. So, in one way, I suppose my ambitions were much the same as my dad’s. Although he can’t seem to grasp it that way.”

Looking down on Betsy, he went on in quieter tones, “At first — after the accident, I mean — the way it was, I began to think I’d lost
both
my parents.”

The girl was tempted to comment, to reassure him, but then she realized he needed to open the door which he had kept locked for too long, so she remained silent and let him speak.

“I was just six years old. He was my dad but he didn’t even seem to know I was there.” The boy’s memory of it was still vivid.

“We never sat down to a meal any more. It was either curry or Chinese from the local take-aways, or beans on toast and Lyons individual fruit pies. He left me to my own devices for days on end. You see, he forgot that I, too, was desperately missing my mother.”

He still recalled the sense of helplessness and loss. The awful loneliness.

“After a while, Dad went back to work. It was as if he went from one extreme to another. This time, he drove himself like a mad thing — with extra clinics, longer hours, home visits… anything so’s not to be in the house. I was only a kid, but I learned to fend for myself. I would get up, wash, dress and go off to school in the village, never knowing if he’d be there when I got back. Not knowing if he would
ever
come home!”

Robin gave a wry little smile. “I never told anyone how things were at home, so nobody bothered. I went to school and all I could think of was my dad, and… everything. One afternoon, my teacher came round and told Dad how I was falling badly behind in class; it made him realize how much he’d neglected me. After that, things were better. He talked to me, about my mother, and how much he missed her. He would hug me and cry, and tell me how sorry he was that he hadn’t been looking after me. But he never once asked me how
I
felt. Inside, I was crying too, but he couldn’t see that. He couldn’t see past his own grief.”