The Runaway (25 page)

‘You saw the delicate flower plaques he’s made? And the small models of young animals? How could a man filled with anger produce such delicate work?’

‘We’re all a mixture of good and bad. Just don’t presume his good qualities necessarily outweigh the rest.’

Paul called at No 3 one evening. Ian was there and he excused the intrusion before telling them that the news on Winnie’s health was more serious than they had hoped.

‘Her heart is not working as it should and she’s gradually getting weaker.’ he said. His voice was strained and he looked ill. ‘I wondered if I can ask you to help with the children when things get bad? I’m managing now, with the neighbours taking them to school and minding them when things are difficult. But they love coming here and if I can ask, just sometimes, make it their special treat, it would be such a relief.’

Faith frowned. ‘Of course. Why haven’t you asked for my help over the last weeks? I’ve been to see Winnie and she’s assured me everything is fine.’

‘Pretence, I suppose. Telling you the true situation makes it real.’

She frowned. ‘I won’t go more regularly now I know, best I carry on normally until you tell me I need to do more. But please, Paul, we can make things better for the children if we keep in touch. Don’t keep the truth from me.’

When he’d gone, Ian said. ‘You know, you can include me in that offer. I like those three and I think Christmas, particularly, should be a good one.’

‘Thank you.’ She leaned across and kissed him.

‘Is that from you or the children?’ he asked.

‘From me, Ian. Definitely from me to you.’ She moved slightly and he put an arm around her and slowly kissed her again.

With winter approaching, work on the garden was over after a couple of weekends spent clearing up and building bonfires. In late November Kitty and Gareth Robbins told her they were moving out.
It was a disappointment but also, Faith insisted, a cause for
celebration
.

The house they had bought was not far away. A mid-terrace with a long back garden. The baby was due in a few weeks and as they’d be so busy, Gareth joked that he’d ordered a double load of cement to cover it.

‘Actually, it’s rather pretty, mostly lawn, with small flower-beds, mature trees and shrubs and it’s been well cared for,’ Kitty explained.

‘So we don’t have to bring our tools and muscles on our first visit?’ Faith said. ‘Thank goodness for that. I was hoping gardening was over until the spring.’ She laughed but there was no laughter in her heart. She would miss them dreadfully.

Life settled into a slower pace as the days grew shorter and the temperature dropped. The flurry of visits from her new family had faded to letters rather than arrangements to meet. The first Christmas card was from her mother and it included an invitation to spend the whole of the holiday with them.

This caused Faith a few problems. Much as she longed to be in London to share the occasion, she didn’t want to spend Christmas without Ian. He could hardly leave his mother alone, and besides, there were still Mr and Mrs Gretorex to consider. And Olive Monk couldn’t be left alone in that lonely caravan. She explained all this to Ian’s mother.

‘Winnie will need help too. Paul can’t make Christmas happen without Winnie’s help and she’s too ill to cope. The children won’t understand if things aren’t what they expect.’

‘Your heart is bigger than your house,’ Vivienne said with a laugh. ‘I can imagine you hiring the local church hall and still not fitting everyone in!’

‘At least I can ask Olive to stay for a couple of nights; now the Robinses are leaving there’ll be two empty rooms.’

Ian came later and she showed him the invitation. ‘I can’t go,’ she said before he commented.

‘The first Christmas since you found them and you won’t go?’

‘The truth is, they’re still strangers. I’d rather be here with you and Olive and the Gretorexes. The other reason for not going is Winnie. I think we’re needed to make sure that Jack, Bill and Polly have a good time.’

‘A good time with a full house will help you forget last year too, so it’s good you’ve decided to stay.’

‘I suspect it was Matt’s cousin and she seems to have given up trying to punish me for leaving Matt and my daughter. Thank
goodness
.’

‘Don’t be too sure. She’s still full of resentment towards you.’

‘Oh!’ she suddenly shouted and Ian looked up in alarm.

‘What is it?’

‘I’ve just thought. I’ll have to send presents for them all! What could I possibly buy that would please them?’

‘Something small and beautifully made. We’ll go to the gift shop where they sell locally crafted trinkets. You’re sure to find something to suit the occasion.’ He looked at her for a moment, then took out a Christmas card. ‘I had an interesting greeting too,’ he said.

She read it aloud. ‘Happy Christmas, Ian, with love as always from your Tessa.’

‘My mother met Tessa the other day and was told that Tessa and Nick are no longer together. How d’you feel about that?’

‘Nick’s probably been cheating on her.’

‘As she did with me.’

‘Has this raised once dead feelings for her?’ She tried to look calm but dreaded his reply.

‘It’s made me realize I can’t stay in that house. I bought it and planned to live there with Tessa and until I get out, her ghost will follow me around. I have never felt at peace there. Not like you do here.’

‘What if she wants to come back to you, will that make a
difference
?’

‘I thought love would be for ever, so no, she can never put it right.’

Faith’s sigh was audible.

Kitty and Gareth came down from their room one day, carrying a huge bunch of flowers, and at once Faith’s heart sank. They were moving out. They stood in front of her like a deputation, faces solemn, eyes subdued.

‘What is it? Is this a formal goodbye?’ Faith tried to smile.

‘The truth is, Faith, we wondered if we could stay for a few more weeks.’ Kitty looked at her husband who coughed and said:

‘Kitty isn’t happy moving into a house far away from people she
knows. It’s a terrible cheek, we know that, but can we stay? With our parents so far away, she’d be far happier, feel much safer staying here with you.’

Faith jumped up and hugged them both. ‘Yes please, I’d love it if you stayed. This is your home for as long as you want.’

Vivienne and Faith were shopping in Cardiff. They both had a list of people for whom they needed gifts and by five o’clock they had almost completed their purchases. Faith had bought presents for Jack, Bill and Polly, plus some cologne and some beautifully wrapped sweets for Winnie. Their baskets were full and packages were sliding about under their arms. It was time to head for home.

Packets of wrapping paper, silver and gold tape, extra ribbons and some baubles for the tree became almost impossible to carry and they were laughing as they stepped off the train and walked towards No 3.

Paul was waiting at the door with the children.

‘Don’t look!’ Faith called. ‘Shut your eyes until I’ve put your
presents
out of sight. I don’t want to spoil the surprises!’

There was a scramble as Faith and Vivienne sorted out which of the packages belonged to whom and the gifts were taken upstairs, then Faith put the kettle on. ‘Tea and some leftover cakes from the shop, right?’

‘It seems likely that Winnie will be coming home in a couple of days,’ Paul told them. ‘It will be such a relief to have her here again. Even if she has to stay in bed, just knowing she’s there. The children have missed her so much.’

A week before Christmas, Vivienne told Faith that she had seen Verity.

‘Surely not? If she came here she’d have called, unless I was out when she came?’

‘I don’t want to upset you, Faith, but I don’t think it was you she came to see.’

‘She doesn’t know anyone else. She wouldn’t visit strangers.’

‘She was with Matt and from what I saw they were definitely not strangers.’

‘Matt? What could Verity have in common with Matt?’

‘Whatever his problems, Matt’s a handsome man. Besides, from what I heard at the newsagent’s they are doing business together.
Verity and your mother are buying more of his work to sell in their shop in London.’

‘D’you think I should say something? At least tell, my – my mother how dangerous he is? Perhaps she doesn’t know about these visits? I have warned her but she chose not to believe me. And what about Verity’s husband? He’s sure to find out. She can’t be my sister! She’s vain and utterly stupid!’

‘Verity doesn’t believe you, or maybe she likes playing with danger.’

‘I still sometimes wonder whether I was wrong to give my daughter away. What if there was no danger and I deprived the man of a child for no reason except my own unfounded fears.’ She looked so sad that Vivienne hugged her. ‘One day your instincts will be proved correct. Just wait and see.’

‘I hope no one gets hurt to prove it,’ Faith replied, thinking of Verity.

She thought about it for some time, then, taking the notebook into which she had written her mother’s phone number she went to the phone box on the corner.

‘I don’t know whether you want to hear this,’ she began. ‘It’s about Verity.’

‘You’ve heard the foolish girl has been visiting Matt Hewitt?’

‘Yes, and I know she doesn’t believe me, but he is a dangerous man. I thought I should tell you, but as you already know, I’m sorry if I’m interfering. I hope she doesn’t get hurt by him, that’s all.’

‘Thank you for phoning, dear. I share your concern, although, it’s unlikely she’ll be amused by him for long. Her tastes run to more elegant men.’

‘Like her poor husband?’

‘As you say, like her poor husband. Matt Hewitt is such a crude and common, unworldly man.’

Faith came off the phone feeling embarrassed, inadequate, someone audacious who was trying to mix with people out of her league. Someone she had been considering marrying was suitable for her but he was far below Verity’s expectations, wasn’t that what her mother had meant?

When Joy came laden with presents a few days before Christmas Day, Faith told her she had warned their mother about Verity’s visits to Matt.

‘She’s very sure of herself and if things get unpleasant she’ll walk away. She’s always enjoyed having men admiring her, a gold ring on her finger won’t change her. Put her out of your mind, have a wonderful Christmas,’ Joy urged.

Despite Winnie’s illness. Christmas was a cheerful time for Faith. There were cards from the newly discovered aunts and uncles and cousins. Letters came from her mother and Verity thanking her for the presents and promising to visit soon. Faith wasn’t sure she wanted them to. Weren’t they just being kind to the peasants in the funny little house overlooking the railway station?

Vivienne came on Christmas Eve and helped with the
preparations
. Ian came with his mother mid-morning the following day and they all fussed over a very pregnant Kitty. With Olive Monk and Mr and Mrs Gretorex joining them the table threatened to collapse and a second table was borrowed from neighbours to accommodate them all.

Olive stayed for three days, telling them of the fun she’d had paying out the Christmas savings and totting up her earnings from the catalogue. She helped to prepare food when Faith went back to work on the 27th.

Mr Gretorex stayed for the whole of the holiday period but Faith could see that their previous attempts at putting on a brave face were no longer possible. Unable to ignore it any longer, she sat Mrs Gretorex down with a cup of tea when her husband was out and asked:

‘What is the matter, dear? Talk about it, that’s much better than holding it all inside.’

Speaking in a low monotonous voice, Mrs Gretorex said. ‘We had a son and he died. Since then we’ve been trying to rebuild our lives but it’s impossible. These past few months we have been blaming each other, and we’ve drifted further and further apart.’

‘I’m so sorry, but why haven’t you told me? In all the months you’ve lived here, why couldn’t you trust me?’

‘It isn’t easy to talk about it.’

‘Olive told me you were building a house. Why isn’t it finished? Surely a fresh start in a new place is what you both need?’

‘It was for him you see. He was injured in a road accident and we designed a bungalow specially for him, but before the footings were
in he – he passed away. After that there seemed no point in finishing it.’

Faith thought for a moment, then, risking an accusation of
interfering
, she said. ‘I believe you should finish building the house.’

‘It’s too late. It was for our son.’

‘Then finish it for him. See an end to it, walk through its rooms, remember how well you planned it. Grieving is an essential part of a loss as terrible as yours but it needs to end or nothing changes. Finish the house, let your son rest.’

‘It won’t be easy to persuade my husband.’

‘Perhaps he’s thinking the same about you.’ She watched as
expressions
of despair and hope flittered across the sad face, then went on, ‘I’d be very interested in seeing it and hearing you explain how you designed it. Even if your son didn’t see it, it was still a labour of love. May I go there with you one day?’

‘Not today, dear. Thank you but I’ll go on my own today. Perhaps in a day or so I’ll be able to show you. It’s a beautiful place.’

‘Please. I’d love you to show me, tell me how it was planned.’

When Mr Gretorex came in half an hour later, Faith casually mentioned that his wife was at the building plot. ‘There’s a bus in fifteen minutes that will take you as far as the farm.’ she said. ‘You could walk home together.’

Olive was walking across the field and saw Mrs Gretorex sitting on a pile of wood, wrapped in a shawl. ‘She must be frozen, poor dab,’ she muttered and hurried back to the caravan to make a flask of tea and bring her old coat. When she returned to the sad scene, she saw that there were two people there. Mr Gretorex had taken off his
overcoat
and had wrapped it around his wife’s shoulders and held it in place with a comforting arm. Quietly, Olive crept back to the caravan, fingers tightly crossed.