A Promise for Tomorrow
Miranda Barnes
© Miranda Barnes 2016
Miranda Barnes has asserted her rights under the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.
This edition published in 2016 by Endeavour Press Ltd.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter One
'I think that's everything,' the estate agent said. 'Anything else?'
'No, thank you,' Sarah said. 'You've covered it all very well.'
'If there is anything else, you have my number. Or you can just call in and see us. We're in the main street, Bondgate Within.'
'Thank you again.'
The man smiled and held out his hand. 'Welcome to Alnwick, Miss Hodgkin!'
On her own at last, Sarah took a deep breath and began to explore the flat that was to be her new home. She had been through it a couple of times, but always in the company of someone from the agency. Now she wanted to experience it for herself. As she thought of it, she wanted to understand it, and see how she might fit in.
It was a modern flat in a nice, old building close to the town centre. A Georgian town house, the agency had said. So, once it had been a house for a single family, plus all the servants and helpers the family needed to keep them warm, clean and fed. Now it had been split into half-a-dozen comfortable flats for single people and couples. Marty would have hated it, she thought with a wry smile. His ideal was to live in a new-build on the Quayside. But it suited her very well.
A smart little galley kitchen, bathroom, living room with dining area, and a bedroom. Furnished, too. Everything a single girl like her needed. There was even provision for tenants to store things in the basement, in little rooms they could lock. Not that she had much with her to store. All her furniture, and much else as well, had been put into storage back in Newcastle. She really had travelled light. The best way when you needed to make a clean break and get out.
Nothing had changed since her last look round, she decided. The flat was exactly as remembered and signed up for. It was a six-months contract. So that was how long she had to get her life in order. Perhaps it would be here, or perhaps back in Newcastle. Possibly somewhere entirely different. She didn't know. It really didn't matter right now. She had made a start. That was the important thing. And here was where she was, starting off afresh.
She jumped as the buzzer on the front door began to make its irritating noise. The estate agent! she thought with an indulgent smile. What had he forgotten to tell her this time? Last time it had been about spare keys and making electricity readings. He really was a fusspot, a fusspot with a poor memory.
She opened the door, ready to make a joke about memory. But it wasn't the little man who had left only twenty minutes ago. It was a young woman Sarah hadn't seen before.
'Hi! I just thought I would say hello. I live in the flat across the landing,' the woman said, nodding behind her. 'I'm Linda Oliver.'
Sarah smiled. 'Sarah Hodgkin. Come in – please!'
The woman stepped through the doorway. 'I won't stay. I know you've just arrived. I just wanted to say that if you need anything, or want to know where anything is, don't hesitate to give me a shout.'
'Thank you. But the estate agent has covered it all, I think.'
'In incredible detail?'
Sarah laughed. 'Yes, indeed! Microscopic detail. I don't know how he expected me to remember everything he told me.'
'That's him. Mr. Wardle. He's all right, though. Just a bit bureaucratic. It's his job, I suppose.'
They moved into the living room. Linda looked around and said, 'It's very nice, isn't it? I wondered how they had organised this side of the house when they made the flats.'
'It is nice, yes. The décor isn't necessarily what I would have chosen myself but they've obviously had a professional to do it.'
'It's very modern, very fashionable, to have these bold colours.'
'Yes, you're right. But my choice would have been a bit more traditional. Paler and less confrontational, perhaps, than purple and cream stripes.'
'Traditional? Oh, yes. My gran would have had flowers everywhere – and flying ducks on the walls!'
'That would have been nice.'
They caught each other's eye and began to laugh.
'It is very nice,' Sarah admitted. 'But I have to have something to complain about.'
'Oh, I know! And there's hardly anything to complain about here, is there? You just have to make the best of it. It's not at all like my last place.'
'Nor mine. You're right. We're very lucky.'
'I'm a local girl, myself. Have you come far, Sarah?'
'Newcastle. I'm a city girl.'
'We could have swapped places if I'd known. I'd love to move there. Not that there's much chance of that happening.'
'Oh, Newcastle has it's attractions but I needed a change. Alnwick will be just right for me, I think. I used to come here with my parents when I was little, and I always thought it was a lovely old town.'
'It's not bad, I suppose. I hope you're not disappointed.'
'Thank you. I'm sure I won't be.'
Linda glanced at her watch and grimaced. 'I'd better be off. I'm on my way to work, and I'm running late.'
'Do you work locally?'
'Yes. I'm a hairdresser. I work in a salon in the centre.'
'That's handy.'
'It is. Anyway, nice meeting you, Sarah. See you later!'
Sarah smiled and showed her to the door. She stood there for a moment, listening to Linda clattering down the staircase, pleased to have met someone already. It was a good start.
Over a cup of coffee, she sat at the kitchen table and thought about what she had to do. Get a job! That was the top priority. Doing something – anything! – that paid a wage. Apart from that, she had to make sure the money she had lasted. Six months, she would give it. When the lease for the flat came up in six months' time she would have to be back on her feet – or else!
She would do it, she said firmly to herself. One way or another, she would be back on her feet by then, and moving on.
Her mobile played its tune, reminding her she had meant to get it changed. She was sick of hearing "Greensleeves", or whatever it was.
She glanced at the screen. Marty! She hesitated. Did she really want to talk to him just now? She grimaced and pressed the button.
'Hello, Marty. What can I do for you?'
'Just wondering where you've got to, and how you are. That's all.'
'I'm fine, thank you. You?'
'Oh, you know. Missing you.'
'It's no good, Marty. I don't want to go through all that again. We made our decision. Let's stick to it.'
'Did we really? Are you sure we made a decision?'
'Yes,' she said firmly. 'We both knew we weren't right for each other. We'd been together long enough to know our own minds, and when you told me you didn't really want to get married and have children I knew it was time to call it a day.'
<
br /> 'We might have had our differences, but …. Well, I didn't mean for us to finish altogether.'
'But I did, Marty. It was good while it lasted. Let's leave it at that. Good-bye, Marty. I hope you find what you're looking for in life.'
'Sarah ….'
She ended the call. Then she took the back off the phone and removed the SIM card. She would get a new one, and a new number. A clean break should be just that. She wasn't prepared to have Marty phoning her every five minutes to see if she had changed her mind. There was no future in that.
Already, in fact, she couldn't understand why she had stayed with him so long. Why on earth hadn't she realised earlier that he wasn't right for her, or she for him?
She dropped the SIM card into the bin. She would keep the phone, though. No need to throw that away, as well. All she needed to do was find a phone shop in town and get a new SIM card. There was bound to be one somewhere.
In fact, she thought, glancing around, she would do that right now. There was no point in being cut off from every part of the outside world. She had done what she could here for the moment. Her cases and bags were unpacked, and her things put away. She had no reason to delay. She could do some grocery shopping while she was out. Immerse herself properly in local life.
She closed the door behind her and locked it. When she glanced out of the window on the landing she could see her little car in its parking place. She smiled. It made a change to be going out without needing a car, or a bus or the Metro. Her feet were going to rediscover their purpose. Small town life was going to be a big adventure, she thought with amusement.
And here I come!
Chapter Two
Alnwick was busy. A watery sun gave a hint of spring, and people had responded by coming out in their droves. One thing about this town, Sarah thought as she edged along the pavement, was that it did have a real centre. Lots of interesting little shops, as well as all the usual banks and estate agents – and travel agencies, for people who didn't find Alnwick sufficient. She liked the historic buildings, too. It looked like a town that had been here a long time, as indeed she knew it had.
She stepped into a newsagents and bought a copy of the local weekly paper, thinking that would be as good a place as any to start job hunting. When she came back outside an argument had started between a young woman with fiery red hair and a traffic warden. For some inexplicable reason, the woman was objecting to the folded paper the man had tucked under the windscreen wiper of her car.
'Five minutes!' the woman said indignantly. 'I've been here five minutes, and you have the cheek to give me this.'
'You've been here longer than that,' the traffic warden said bluntly.
'You're taking food out of my children's mouths. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.'
The man almost responded in kind but somehow he managed to retain his temper. He turned and walked away instead.
'I'm going to stand for election and get you made redundant!' the woman shouted after him.
Sarah moved on, amused, thinking how glad she was her car was safely lodged in its ordained parking place. The fines were such a lot of money these days.
Something, she didn't know what, made her glance back after she'd gone a few paces. The woman was standing still, her head down. With horror, Sarah realised she was in tears. She stopped and went back to her.
'Are you all right?'
The woman shook her head.
'Don't be upset,' Sarah said desperately. She placed a tentative hand on the woman's arm.
The woman shivered, seemed to shake herself and then straightened up. She attempted a smile when she looked at Sarah. 'That man!' she said. 'Who do they think they are, these people? Little fascists! That's what they are.'
Sarah chuckled. 'Well, you didn't let him have it all his own way, did you?'
The woman sighed. 'It's just one of those days, I'm afraid. I should have stayed in bed this morning.'
'We all get them.'
The woman looked thoughtful for a moment. 'Now I've actually bought that parking place, I don't need to worry about getting another ticket, do I?'
'Well …. I suppose not, no.'
'So the car can stop there all day?'
'Well ….'
Sarah wasn't sure about that.
'Come on, then! Let me buy you a cup of coffee. You've been very kind.'
'Well ….' Sarah said again.
'I mean it!' the woman warned. 'Don't you let me down, as well.'
Sarah laughed and nodded acceptance. She was relieved the woman seemed to have recovered her composure.
*
A little coffee shop nearby, in the basement of an old town house, gave them the refuge they sought. They ordered a skinny latte and a cappuccino. No cakes or cookies, Sarah was relieved to see. Life was a struggle enough. She didn't need more temptation.
'I'm India,' the woman with fiery red hair said.
'Oh?' She tried not to smile. 'And I'm Sarah.'
'What's more, I'm totally, absolutely depressed and despondent. Far worse than I was yesterday. I need someone's ear to pour all my misery into, and you're the lucky one.'
Sarah chuckled. 'I could see you were a bit upset, back there.'
'A bit! You've no idea. Sixty pounds, that stupid, arrogant man's cost me! Today, of all days. Anyway, it can't get worse. How about you? How's your day going?'
'Wonderfully well, thank you. I've just arrived here, and moved into a new flat.'
'Oh? Congratulations.' India beamed and added, 'You're new to Alnwick?'
'Yes. This is my first day. I have visited before, but I haven't lived here.'
'Well, I hope you like it. I'm sure you will.'
'It seems lovely.'
India nodded.' It's not a bad little town. Is there just you …?'
'Yes. I'm a single girl still.'
'Lucky you!'
Sarah smiled. 'I take it you're not?'
'No. Married, with two children – four and eight. They run me ragged – all of them!'
A woman passing their table called a greeting to India and gave Sarah a smile. India responded with something about a music event at the Playhouse. Sarah half-listened, enjoying the feeling of entering a new world, with new people. It was exciting. And she rather liked the strange woman she had just met.
'Have you got a job here?' India asked, turning back to her.
'No, not yet. But I must start looking.'
'Oh? I assumed you'd come to start a new job.'
'No. This a fresh start for me. New home, new job – I hope!'
'Good luck with that. It's not an easy time for job hunting. My husband, Harry, just found out this morning that he's being made redundant. That was the last thing we needed.'
'Oh, I'm so sorry! That's awful.'
Sarah guessed that had had something to do with the upset over the parking ticket. One thing after another, it sounded like.
India nodded and looked grim-faced. 'It is,' she said. 'Absolutely dreadful. I must find out where the workhouse is. We're going to need it.'
Sarah was startled. Then she smiled tentatively. 'I don't think they have them any more, do they?'
'No? That's a pity. So where do the homeless go these days?'
Sarah was relieved when India touched her wrist lightly with her finger tips and added, 'Just joking. It's not that bad – yet.'
Sarah smiled. 'I must say, you're dealing with adversity very well, India. I don't think I'd be joking, in your position. What a day you're having!'
'Into every life a little rain must fall.'
'I've heard that one before somewhere,' Sarah said, laughing. 'I don't like it, but it's true, isn't it?'
'Absolutely. It was on an old calendar that used to hang on my bedroom wall when I was little. An early lesson in life's hard knocks.'
Still smiling, Sarah shook her head and asked, 'Where does your husband work?'
'A furniture factory on the industrial estate. It seems that the recession has made its w
ay to Alnwick. The whole place is closing down. Everyone's been given their notice.'
Sarah was quiet for a moment. The news wasn't what she had expected, or wanted, to hear. It seemed to overshadow her own prospects.
'Has Harry been there long?'
'Fifteen years. Since before I met him.' India sighed and added, 'It seems people don't want new furniture any more. What's wrong with them? How can they bear to put up with their old stuff any longer?'
Sarah chuckled. 'They'll come round. I'm sure they will. But the company can't wait, presumably?'
India shook her head. 'They say they're bust. It's been coming for a while, and now it's here.'
Sarah stirred her coffee thoughtfully. She wondered what it must be like to have news like that dropped on you. Terrible. Poor India. No wonder she made jokes of everything. It would be either that or sit in a heap and cry.
'Will you be able to manage financially?'
India shrugged. 'I haven't a clue at the moment. Harry's getting his last wages at the end of the week. After that ….' She shrugged again. 'The dole, I suppose, or whatever they call it these days. Job Seeker's Allowance, isn't it?'
Sarah nodded. 'Yes. There's other things, as well. Various benefits, especially for people with families. But I'm not familiar with them. You can even defer mortgage payments, I think. Help like that.'
'I'll have to get busy,' India said with a frown. 'Lots of people to talk to, I suppose, and forms to fill in.'
Bound to be, Sarah thought. But so what? Plenty of people were going to be in the same position when these cuts were made that the Government and everybody else kept talking about. Plenty of people were there already, probably.
Time to change the subject.
'What are your children called?'
'Helen and Mark.'
'Oh? Such lovely classical names.'
'What did you expect? That I'd have children with names as ridiculous as mine? In that case, one would have had to be called Longhoughton and the other Seahouses.'
Sarah stared, puzzled.
'I was conceived – and born, actually – on the hippy trail to Shangri La, or wherever,' India said airily. 'My parents have no sense at all, even though they are Scottish.'
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