As a temporary measure, the large room at the back of the house accommodated Dave, Lianne and their two children. David was seven now. Normally he slept in his own room. But while Eddie Laing occupied it, the boy reluctantly agreed to sleep in his parents’ room: ‘I’m not sleeping in the cot with Elizabeth!’ he said, making the kind of face that might turn the milk sour.
He needn’t have worried, because Dave brought the boy’s own little bed in, and tucked it in the corner. After that there was no argument.
‘It’s such a beautiful day,’ Lianne said. ‘I thought we ought to have our tea outside.’
They had a wonderful tea. Mrs Martin had baked a whole pile of scones. Irish Maureen had made blackberry jam from the fruit she had picked along the lanes in the week they had been here. Lianne had been getting ready for the christening for days now, and the table did her proud.
‘Ye’ll all have to come and stay with us in New York, sure ye will,’ Maureen told the boy. ‘How would ye like that, eh?’
Now that he was about to have his own room back, he was in no hurry to leave it again. ‘If I do, can I bring my own bed?’
Maureen was boggle-eyed. ‘Sure, ye’ll never get it on the plane!’
‘I won’t come then, thank you. But you can take Elizabeth, ‘cause she cries all the time.’ When everyone laughed, he made one of his best sour faces, and fled across the lawn to torment the pet Labrador.
Eddie Laing stood up. ‘I sincerely hope young David will change his mind about coming to the States,’ he said, smiling down on Liz, ‘because this lovely lady has finally agreed to be my wife, and we want you all at our wedding.’
Everyone cheered and drank their health, and Liz blushed like a schoolgirl.
The next morning, while the others were still in bed, Lianne and her mother had a heart-to-heart.
‘You don’t mind me marrying again, do you, sweetheart?’ Liz asked.
‘Does he make you happy?’ Lianne murmured, shushing the child in her arms.
‘Yes, he does.’
‘Then I’m really pleased for you.’ She sealed her approval with a kiss, and put the child into its pram.
Soon it was time to go. First to leave were the Martins. ‘Take care of yourselves,’ they said, and waved all the way down the lane.
In no time at all, the taxi arrived to take the others to the airport. At the terminal they had time for a cup of tea. ‘Are you all right?’ Eddie asked Liz, when the others had gone to freshen up. ‘You were very quiet in the taxi.’
‘Just thinking,’ she answered. ‘Memories, you know.’
‘All in the past now,’ he assured her softly. ‘We have a future to plan.’
‘I know,’ she said, ‘and we’ll make it a good one.’ In her heart, Liz knew that to be true. Besides, it was what Jack would have wanted. She rummaged in her bag for a tissue. The bag had been a birthday gift from Jack.
‘Jeeze!’ Eddie remarked. ‘That looks years old. Remind me to get you a new one.’
‘I’ll keep you to that,’ she told him.
He squeezed her hand. Suddenly she felt at peace. It was a good feeling.
Lianne came running into her son’s room. ‘It’s all right, sweetheart,’ she said, calming him down. ‘You had a bad dream. Mummy’s here now. Shh! It’s all right.’ She held him, until he felt limp in her arms, then she gently slid him between the sheets and covered him over.
As she made to stand up he opened his troubled eyes. ‘Bad people don’t go to heaven, do they?’
Lianne stroked his forehead. You’re a funny little thing, she thought, but she soothed him with reassuring words. ‘There are no bad people here. Nothing for you to worry about, sweetheart.’ He seemed content, and she stayed by his bed until he was sleeping peacefully.
Afterwards she went to the window and looked out at a starry sky. She recalled her son’s words. No, sweetheart, she thought. There is no heaven for bad people. No heaven. No hell. Only the dark place between. Shivering, she closed the curtains and shut out the night.
Dave was awake, leaning up on one elbow, and waiting for her to come back. ‘Is he all right now?’
‘He’s asleep.’ Taking off her robe, she checked the baby. ‘She sleeps like an old woman,’ Lianne chuckled.
She shivered as she climbed into bed. ‘Cuddle me,’ she pleaded. ‘I’m cold.’
The cuddle became a kiss. The kiss grew passionate, and soon they were in the throes of lovemaking.
The lovemaking ended. The love remained. And all was well.
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He had seen it with his own eyes, heard the awful screams, but nobody would believe him. Is Mike Peterson losing his mind? The doctors certainly think so and Mike is confined to a psychiatric unit.
Three years later, life has changed irrevocably for the Peterson family. The children will never forgive their father for shattering the family, his wife has built herself a successful career.
But now Mike is coming home...
Part 1
August 1980
Out of the Darkness…
1
‘I’m cold.’ Inexplicably afraid, the boy shivered. ‘I want to go home.’
Mike glanced up at the sky. Only a minute ago the sun was blazing down. Suddenly, the clouds were gathering; the air strangely chilled. There was a sense of danger all around. ‘It’s getting dark.’ He looked at his watch; it was just gone three. ‘Must be a storm on the way. Come on, son, we’d best pack up and make our way home.’
‘I’ll just give the ducks these leftovers.’ It was a shame to waste them and the birds seemed so hungry.
Mike nodded. ‘Sure. But don’t be too long about it.’
While the boy gathered the stale sandwiches, Mike packed the picnic basket, his thoughts going back over the past few days. Lately, he had been so on edge, there were times when it put a strain on his relationship with Kerry.
The picnic had been a great idea. Kerry was right, as always. He and his son needed some time to themselves. They needed time to get to know each other. Ever since Jack had been born, Mike had devoted himself to building a successful business so he could provide for his family. It meant sacrifices. It meant working every minute God sent and, worse than that, it meant neglecting the ones he loved most. He had not realised the cost. He had not seen how it was taking over his life and swallowing everything in its wake. Now, Jack was five years old, and he hardly knew the boy.
He looked at his son and pride filled his chest. Jack had a look of him, especially the eyes, brown and serious; right now they were gazing out across the pond, watching the ducks scurrying for the bread. Ruffling his hair, Mike reminded him, ‘Time to go, son.’
Scrambling up, Jack looked scared. ‘Why is it so dark?’
Strapping the picnic bag over his shoulder, Mike led him by the hand. ‘It’s just a storm. Don’t worry.’ He didn’t want to frighten him. But it was a strange sky, darker now, pressing down. Such cold, eerie silence. It was like nothing he had ever experienced.
As they approached the car, he heard someone call his name. ‘Mike! Mike Peterson!’
Swinging round, he saw a woman and for a moment she was just another stranger. Then, as she ran up to him, he couldn’t believe his eyes. ‘Rosie! Rosie Sharman, after all these years.’
Still slim and attractive, the years had been kind to Rosie; her long auburn hair shone, and her skin was like that of a child. But then she couldn’t be very old; when he last saw her she wasn’t much more than a child. Seeing her now, the memories flooded back – along with the guilt.
Dropping the picnic bag he grabbed her as she ran
into his arms. She felt soft and warm against him. ‘How long has it been?’ he asked, reluctantly releasing her.
‘Fifteen years,’ she reminded him with a grin. ‘And you don’t look a day older than you did then.’
‘Liar!’ Flattered, he laughed out loud. ‘I’m thirty-eight and look ninety.’ Pressure of work aged a man before his time.
Rosie quietly observed him. ‘Rubbish,’ she said. ‘You’re as handsome as ever,’ and in a move that startled him she kissed him soundly on the mouth. ‘I recognised you straightaway,’ she said. ‘The turn of your head… the way you walk. I knew it was you.’ Her thoughts flew back over the years. As if she could ever forget! In their young, carefree days, there was a time when Mike Peterson had been her whole life.
‘You look well, Rosie.’ Over the years he had often wondered about her. Did she still think of him? Did she cherish the wonderful times they’d had together? Did she have a new man? Married? Children? Was she a career woman? It was always at night when he thought about her. Always after he and Kerry had made love. ‘It’s great to see you.’ She still had that uncanny way of making him feel good. ‘But what are you doing here?’ he asked. ‘Do you live around these parts?’ Life was a funny thing, he thought; after they had parted all those years ago, he was sure he would never see her again.
Avoiding his question, she brought her attention to Jack who was shifting impatiently from one foot to the other. ‘Is this your son?’ Her voice was soft, her green eyes smiling on him. ‘Of course,’ she answered her own question. ‘Anyone can see he’s your son.’ She introduced herself. ‘I’m Rosie. What’s your name?’
‘Jack.’
‘Hello, Jack.’ She held out her hand and laughed when he hesitated. ‘I’m told I can be a bit overwhelming but I promise I don’t bite.’
Allowing her to shake his hand, Jack remained silent.
For a long moment she smiled into Mike’s eyes, started to say something, and then, with a proud gesture, swung away. ‘This is my son.’ Half turning, she urged a boy to come forward. ‘Luke, come and meet an old friend.’
Mike had not noticed the boy standing behind her. Rosie had a son! It didn’t seem right somehow.
‘Hi, Luke.’ Mike guessed he was about fifteen. He was tall and good-looking, with brown hair and eyes of a paler shade than his mother’s.
The skies began to rumble. ‘I reckon we’re in for a drenching,’ Mike said. ‘That’s why we packed up – just as we were enjoying our picnic. Isn’t that right, Jack?’ Smiling down on the boy, he drew him closer. Where was Rosie’s husband? he wondered.
Rosie read his mind. ‘If you’re curious about my other half, he’s not here.’ She gave no explanation.
‘So you are married then?’
Leaning forward, she said softly, ‘You didn’t think I could love you for ever, did you? Life has to go on, Mike.’
Mortified that she should have misunderstood, Mike actually blushed. ‘I didn’t mean… I was curious, that’s all.’
A mischievous smile put him at ease. ‘Look, Mike. Seeing as your picnic was spoiled, why don’t we all go for a drink and a bite to eat? Luke and I are in no hurry to get back.’
He was tempted, but before agreeing he turned to Jack. ‘What do you think, son? Are you hungry?’
A hesitant nod was all Mike needed. ‘OK. Everyone into the car.’
As they loaded up, Rosie turned to glance at him, and the years seemed to roll away. With the memories came a sense of nervousness and, for a fleeting moment, Mike wondered if he was doing the right thing.
Just a few minutes away, the inn was a welcome sanctuary. The moment Mike drew into the forecourt, the heavens opened. Making a run for it, the four of them burst in through the door, shaking the rain from their clothes and laughing.
Before directing them to the family room, the landlord took their order. ‘One coffee, a pint of lager… two lemonades, and four chicken salad sandwiches.’
‘Don’t forget the crisps,’ Rosie reminded him, ‘and plenty of mayonnaise on my sandwich.’ Rosie was partial to mayonnaise.
‘I’ll be as quick as I can with the sandwiches,’ the landlord said, ‘but what with the rain and everything, there’s been a rush on.’ He wasn’t complaining though. The more people, the bigger the orders, and the bigger the orders, the more profit. ‘Sit yourselves down. I’ll have your drinks here in no time at all.’
Settling at a table by the window, Mike glanced out. ‘Good God! Look at that!’ The rain was lashing down, the wind so violent it was bending the trees almost to the ground. ‘It’s as well we came here, Jack,’ he said, ‘or we might have been blown off the road.’ On the other hand, it might not be wise to linger here too long. The lanes were narrow and might soon be impassable.
The drinks arrived. Jack’s attention was on a young couple nearby. ‘Look at that,’ he exclaimed. ‘What’s that game?’
‘It’s called table football,’ Rosie’s son explained. ‘When they’ve finished, I’ll show you how to play if you like.’ When Jack seemed excited at the prospect, Luke grinned from ear to ear. ‘I’ll give you a head start,’ he promised. ‘We’ll play best out of three.’
Rosie laughed. ‘You against the boy? That’s not fair. Besides, he probably won’t even be able to reach the table.’
Jack was indignant. ‘Yes I will!’
‘If not, I’m sure the landlord will find him a box to stand on.’ Luke had it all worked out.
Jack was sold on the idea. ‘Can I, Daddy? Please.’
‘What about your sandwiches? They’ll be here any minute.’ He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to be left alone with Rosie.
‘I’m not hungry now.’ Jack’s appetite seemed to have disappeared.
‘Might as well say yes,’ Rosie laughed, ‘or we’ll get no peace.’ Unlike Mike, she yearned for the two of them to be left alone. She and Mike had unfinished business. He may have forgotten, she thought bitterly, but she hadn’t.
Mike relented. ‘One game then, and only if that young couple finish their game before your sandwiches arrive.’
Rosie regarded the couple. ‘Poor little buggers,’ she commented wryly. ‘By the looks of them, I’d say they were on the run.’
Mike was intrigued. ‘What makes you say that?’
‘Come on, Mike. You’ve only got to look at them. The girl is what? Fifteen, sixteen? She’s about the age I was when we first met.’ She let that sink in before going on, ‘The boy isn’t much older, and the pair of them are filthy.’ Pointing to two grubby rucksacks leaning against the table leg, she muttered, ‘Travelling light. And they’re thin as rakes. I shouldn’t be surprised if they haven’t eaten for days.’
Mike gestured to the tray of sandwiches and drinks close by. ‘Looks to me like they’re not short of money.’
‘They’re probably sleeping rough at night and begging on the streets during the day.’ She laughed. ‘Some of these beggars are better off than any of us.’
‘What d’you reckon they’re running from?’
Rosie shrugged. ‘Who knows? Bad parents? Violent background? They could have been abused in some way. They might even have been brought up by the authorities, and now they’ve been turned out to make their own way in life.’
‘If you ask me, they’re just enjoying themselves. I can’t see they’re any thinner or scruffier than other kids of that age.’ He didn’t share her obsession with the couple.
Rosie was adamant. ‘No, Mike. They’re running from something, or somebody. All the signs are there. And look how they keep glancing towards the door – look at the eyes, how haunted they are.’ She shook her head decisively. ‘No, if you ask me, there isn’t a soul in the world who gives a monkey’s where they are, or what happens to them.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
Meeting his gaze, she said quietly, ‘Trust me, Mike. I know about these things.’
The young couple finished their game and left the table hand in hand. The two boys rushed acr
oss the room, and Mike resigned himself to a lengthy stay. Raising his glass, he laughed nervously. ‘Well, here’s to you, Rosie.’
Rosie looked across at Mike’s son. ‘You’ve got a good kid there, Mike.’
Taking a gulp of his drink, Mike was quiet for a moment, before answering, ‘Yeah, he’s a good kid. Trouble is, I’m not a good father.’
‘I don’t believe that.’
‘I have a daughter too. Susie’s three years old. She’s a good kid also but I’m so busy working, I hardly see them.’
‘What about your wife?’ She had to know everything.
‘Kerry?’ A smile crossed his features. ‘She’s the best thing that ever happened to me – apart from the kids of course.’ Not realising how his comment had shocked and hurt her, he looked to where Jack was scrambling on to a small crate. ‘Look at that. By hook or by crook, eh?’
Laughing, Rosie made another toast. ‘Here’s to being young and foolish.’
‘And not giving a sod!’
Clinking glasses, Rosie regarded him thoughtfully. ‘We were young and foolish once,’ she said carefully, ‘and you didn’t give a sod, either.’
Embarrassed, he looked away, pretending to concentrate on what the boys were doing, but he could feel her eyes burning on his face. Suddenly, he felt threatened.
Swigging back the last of her drink, Rosie said sweetly, ‘I wouldn’t mind a rum and coke.’
He stared at her. ‘I thought you didn’t drink spirits.’ After all these years, he hadn’t forgotten.
‘Times change.’ Her smile betrayed how pleased she was that he had remembered.
Unsettled, he swung out of his chair. ‘Rum and coke it is then. Keep an eye on Jack for me, will you?’ When she nodded, he hurried away; thinking the sooner he got out of here the better.
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