Wednesday's Child (7 page)

Pooh sticks were a simple game involving a race between two sticks both dropped in to a river at the same time. “I do. But it’s a kids’ game.”

“Then here you go.” He handed her a stick. “I love pooh sticks. I will not have it mocked,” he added sternly. “Or I may have to give you a detention.”

Jacqui winked and fired off an imitation salute. “Then I will not mock it, sir. You’ll need to remind me how to play. I haven’t done it for years.”

Liam moved to the side of the bridge, his footsteps clattering on the wooden slats. “We both drop the sticks at the same time. First one under the bridge and out the other side wins.”

“You played it a lot by the sounds of it.”

“Niamh loves playing this. Though she cheats somewhat.”

“How on earth do you cheat at pooh sticks?”

“She chucks her stick in at an angle. I don’t stand a chance of beating her.”

“Well, I promise not to cheat.” Jacqui smiled and leaned over the side. “On three. One, two, three.”

She dropped the stick at the same time as Liam and then ran to the other side of the bridge. They both leaned over waiting. She caught her breath and then cheered as her stick came through first.

“Beginners luck.” Liam said, and then laughed. “I’ll win next time.”

She looked at him. “Next time?”

He caught her gaze. “I’d like to see you again. It’s what friends do, isn’t it?”

Other than Eve, Holly and Kyle she didn’t have any friends. And Holly and Kyle were more wrapped up in each other these days. Which was fair enough. The thought of having another friend was appealing. Even if he did drink and he didn’t share her faith, but there would be no harm in being his friend. Perhaps God was trying to tell her she could help him somehow. “Yes. I’d like that too. Fine, you can win the next time…maybe.”

“Or not as the case may be.” Liam smiled. “What are you doing this weekend?”

“Tomorrow is the anniversary of the train crash. There’s a memorial service and unveiling of the plaque with the thirty-seven victims’ names on it, which I’m going to attend. And then Sunday is church. There’s a lunch this week as well.” She paused briefly. “I don’t suppose you’d like to come with me?”

“No. I can’t, but thanks for the invitation. I’ve got tickets to the rugby on Sunday. It’s a twelve-thirty kick off.”

“Who’s playing?”

“The Headley Tigers are playing Northampton Rovers in the challenge cup semi-final.”

“Big game, then.”

“Oh yeah. The winner goes through to Twickenham next month. Tickets for that will be like gold dust and probably cost just as much, but it’ll be on the telly.” He smiled. “So, shall I walk you to your car?”

“I’d like that. Thank you.” She couldn’t form any kind of attachment to this man.

He’s not a Christian. He’s off limits, like Vince. You know how that ended. Oh, Lord, I know what You said, and You were right. Draw me closer to You, and fill me with Your Spirit that I may live for You. Let me help Liam. His grief is still consuming him and there’s something else, something dark. I wouldn’t say evil, but there is darkness at work with in him. Work in him, Lord. Bring him back to You and use him for Your glory.

5

The phone rang.

Jacqui glanced up from where she lay curled on the bed and sighed as she pulled another tissue from the box, tempted not to answer it. It kept ringing. She reached out and grabbed it. “Holly, it’s very kind of you, but I won’t change my mind, no matter how many times you ring.”

There was a pause before the very male, Irish lilt resounded in her ear.

“Then it’s a very good job I’m not Holly, isn’t it?”

Jacqui felt heat rise in her cheeks. “Oh, Liam, I’m sorry. Holly’s rung five times trying to get me to go over there tonight.”

“Ah. Well, I’m not after wanting you to go to Holly’s. I actually rang to see how you were doing after the memorial service today.”

Fresh tears stung her eyes and she closed them tightly. That was sweet of him. “It was…” Her voice wobbled and she struggled to keep the emotion from flooding out again. “It was really hard. So many ruined lives and people gone. But some good stuff. One couple met in the wreckage, and they’re getting married next week.”

“Hey, that’s neat.” His smile and concern came through. “Would you like some company?”

“Like I told Holly, I don’t want—”

“And like I told you, I’m not Holly.”

She blotted her eyes with the soggy tissue, sniffling again. “I know that. You look nothing like her. She doesn’t have a beard for one thing.”

“I don’t even want you to talk if I come over. We’ll walk around the lake. Watch the sun set behind the trees and just sit in silence. I just don’t think that you should sit in that bungalow of yours moping.” His voice deepened, indicating how concerned he was. So was Holly, but coming from Liam, someone she hardly knew, despite the couple of dinners they’d shared, it meant more.

“I’m not moping.” The protest sounded weak even to her.

“So, you’re not moping, you’re sad, languishing, dejected.”

“I am not—”

“Don’t argue with me, Jacqui. You are, and it’s not going to make you feel any better.” His tone changed from concerned to firm.

Jacqui paused. He’d only known her three days, and yet he was spot on. “All right, yes, maybe I’m moping, a little.”

“Let me pick you up. Where do you live?”

“You promise you’re not an axe murderer?”

“I promise I’m not an axe murderer. And before you ask how I got your number, it was on the card I lifted from your desk yesterday.”

Jacqui shook her head. “You’re incorrigible.” She took a deep breath. “Fifteen Raggleswood Crescent.”

“I know it. I’ll be there in ten.”

****

True to his word, Liam pulled up in exactly ten minutes. As Jacqui opened the door, he had to restrain himself from not pulling her into the hug she so desperately needed. He settled for a smile and a sweeping bow. “Your carriage awaits, my lady.”

Jacqui picked up her jacket and bag and followed him to the car. She looked at him, suspicion in her eyes. “You’re not going to insist I talk?”

He shook his head. “No, not at all. We’re going to sit in a companionable silence and watch the sun set.”

Liam drove to the park, studiously ignoring the tears she shed on the way. He knew how painful anniversaries were, whether they were birthdays, wedding or death days. He also knew from experience that all Jacqui needed was someone to be there. He could do that, just like Niamh did for him. He parked next to the lake and got out. Going around the car, he opened the door.

“A poet once said that sunsets are magical and simply watching one can make someone feel better.”

Jacqui got out, rubbing her eyes. “Right.” Her voice still carried the echo of her tears.

“Don’t believe it myself, any more than I believe in the luck o’the Irish, but that’s what the poem said. Anyway, I have this bench right over here.” Liam walked with her towards it. “I had it put here after Sally died. It’s part of their ‘adopt a bench’ scheme. I just come and sit here sometimes. I wrote a poem to go on the plaque. Wanted something more personal than just her name and dates, you know.”

Jacqui stood and read the plaque, her eyes glistening.

My love

And I would come

And sit here, feed the ducks

Or walk around the lake. Come spring,

Autumn, summer or winter, we’d be here.

Until the day Sally was taken

Away, leaving me just

Memories of

My love.

“That’s lovely. Did you really write that?”

Liam nodded. “Yeah, it’s the only poem I’ve ever written. She loved it here.” He sat down and patted the space beside him. “Sit.” He nodded as she sat and lapsed into silence. He gazed out over the water. Aware she was crying, Liam pulled out a tissue and offered it to her.

“Thanks.” She buried her face in it.

He smiled. “It amazes me how women are always grateful for these, but never bother to ask if it’s a clean one.” He winked as she stiffened and pulled it away from her eyes looking at it.

“It’s clean. My mother always told me to wear clean underwear and carry a clean hanky every time I go out. Though I use tissues so I don’t have to launder and iron them.”

Jacqui nodded, tears falling and shoulders shaking. Liam looked at her. For a moment he hesitated, remembering the vibrant, almost electric feeling that passed between them at each accidental touch. To instigate it and encourage that feeling would be wrong. But at the same time he couldn’t just sit here and do nothing to comfort her. Offering her a hug was the right thing to do, and he had to put his feelings aside.

Taking a deep breath, he held out an arm. “Come here.”

As she moved into his embrace and buried her face in his shoulder, he held her tightly, amazed at the force of emotion flooding her.

He’d mourned his wife, but never allowed himself to cry. Except the other night, at the pizza place when he’d shared his pain with this woman.

He was proud of the fact he hadn’t cried, properly cried, since he was seven. Anger, on the other hand, he knew too well. He sat in silence, just holding her, looking out at the water and pondering why he’d almost let loose that night.

Eventually her sobs slowed and she looked up, her face red and swollen. “I’m sorry. I made your shirt all wet.”

“Never apologize for showing your feelings. I’ll dry. Besides, if you can’t cry on a friend’s shoulder who can you cry on?” He smiled at her as she sat up. “I’m happy to lend a shoulder whenever you need one.”

“Thank you.” She took the new tissue he offered.

He pulled his arm back, not wanting to impose the contact any longer than was comfortable. He smiled and pointed across the lake. “Watch—this is the best bit.”

Jacqui followed his finger and gasped as a rush of gold swept across the lake as the setting sun hit the surface of the water. “Wow.”

“That about sums it up.”

The orange lit her eyes and something moved within him. This woman touched him on an unexpected level. He wondered whether she felt the same way. He wasn’t ready for anything more than friendship. But he’d promised her a sunset and silence.

The sun slid beneath the water before Jacqui took a deep breath and turned to look at him. “Thank you. You were right. I did need to get out.”

Liam eased his shoulders against the back of the bench. “You’re welcome.”

She returned the smile. “You’re good company, Liam. You know when to talk and when to be silent. Not many know that one.”

He looked at her. Seize the moment…

“I was wondering what you’re doing Monday evening.”

“Not much. Why?”

“How about coming out with me? Just as friends, nothing more,” he added.

Jacqui didn’t say anything. Was the glint in her eyes pleasure or fear?

“If I’ve said something wrong, feel free to hit me or just insist I take you home.”

Something flashed in her eyes before she buried it. “No, I’d like to see you again on Monday.”

Liam pushed a hand through his hair, not pursuing the flash of fear he’d seen. “Great. I’ll pick you up at seven… Do you feel up to a quick game of pooh sticks before I drive you home? Because it’s my turn to win.”

She looked at him. “Sure. Umm…is this really a ‘just friends’ thing? Or is there something more to it?”

He caught his breath. In for a penny, in for a pound. “That’s up to you. It could be a date,” he said, watching for her reaction. “If you want. It’s up to you. I mean…not a ‘date’ date, more of a ‘two friends going out together and seeing what happens’ date.”

“Is there such a thing?”

Liam shrugged. “I guess there is now. We could be the first.”

Jacqui smiled. “I’ll think about that.” She was quiet for a few moments, then seemed to come to a decision. “Monday, it is. You sure I can’t persuade you to come to church tomorrow instead of going to the rugby?”

Liam nodded. “I’m sure.”

6

Monday morning, Jacqui stood outside the classroom, her coat pulled up against the wind and drizzle. English weather was so fickle—hot one day and cold the next. She surveyed the playground and made notes. What this spot needed was a covered area, picnic tables, a basketball hoop and outdoor table tennis—something to entice the children outside and keep them there, no matter what the weather. A roof of some kind over the table tennis would mean they could play all year round.

She looked up as Liam’s voice floated through the open window. She smiled as his voice went up and down as he spoke. He must be pacing the room she realized, as his voice varied in volume. It was intoxicating listening to him. The cadence of his melodic Irish lilt as he paced and taught captivated her. Poetry appreciation had never sounded so good.

Shaking her head, she tried to focus on the paper in front of her. Where was she? Oh, yeah, hoops and table tennis. An arbor, roses, and perhaps even a small garden they could sit in. The back of her neck prickled, and she glanced back.

Liam stood in the window watching her.

She mimed being cold by rubbing her arms. Her heart leapt as he smiled back. She held his gaze for a moment, and then turned back to her work. A warm feeling spread through her at the thought of spending the evening with him.

What is it about him that makes my heart sing? Lord, he touches me in a way that no one ever has before. And he’s nothing like Vince. I don’t flinch around him. I even let him hug me the other night and wasn’t afraid. That’s incredible. But he’s not a Christian. And he seems reserved, maybe even afraid of something. Like tonight…he almost said a date then backtracked.

Her phone rang. “Hello.”

“Hello Jacqui, its Eve.”

“Hi, Eve. Are you wishing you were out here in the lovely drizzle rather than stuck in a nice warm, dry office? Because, if that’s the case, I’m more than happy to swap jobs with you.” She kept her tone light. She preferred to be out here even if it was cold and damp.