Facing the World

by Grace Thompson

  Rick’s distress at the death of the baby increased after Amy’s glib response but he said nothing more. Amy’s life had been safe and secure, her parents hadn’t allowed anything to upset her or cause her a moment’s worry. How could she understand? He addressed a letter to Rhys, writing down everything that had happened, graphically describing the situation in which his son had been born, and drove to Bristol. His anger made him careless and he knew his driving was a danger to himself and others, but he couldn’t calm himself. The man was a fool to neglect Sally the way he had and someone had to tell him so.

  He handed the letter to the café owner where the others still awaited Rhys’s collection. ‘No sign of Rhys Martin then?’ he said to the café owner. ‘Will you put this with the others, please?’ The man threw Rick’s letter carelessly on to the cluttered shelf and went back to his customers. Later that evening, when the café closed, he looked at the dates on the earliest envelopes, shrugged and threw the lot in with the rubbish.

  Milly Sewell called to see Amy after seeing her in the garden and called across in her rather loud voice.

  ‘Isn’t it terrible about that woman having a baby out in the fields!’ She walked closer. ‘As if it wasn’t enough to have two children without a husband in sight, she had to give birth to that poor little scrap in a field.’

  ‘Good morning, Mrs Sewell,’ Amy called, turning away, hoping to discourage her.

  Milly hurried towards her. ‘I had to tell Mrs Green about her disgraceful behaviour. Sally used to clean for her but now she knows what kind of person she is, she’ll find someone else. D’you know of someone who’d work for her?’

  Amy turned to face her, not liking what she saw. The woman was smiling, eyes glittering, obviously enjoying the story she had to tell. Although Amy was inclined to agree with what the woman was saying, she didn’t like her, so she played devil’s advocate and disagreed.

  ‘Sally has been very unfortunate, being let down so badly. Can’t blame her for trusting someone who purports to love her, can you?’

  ‘Which one d’you mean, the father of Sadie or the father of the poor little scrap who died? How many other men has she been with? Terrible way to live, don’t you think?’

  Angry now, Amy said, ‘One man. Just one, and he let her down.’

  Milly had a good idea of the man in question so she said, ‘Good of Valmai to offer Sally and Sadie a home, isn’t it? Terrible shaming for a mother to have a son like that.’

  ‘I don’t know what happened, but I’m sure Rhys will be home soon to sort everything out and be a proper father to his little girl.’

  Satisfied that her suspicions were confirmed, Milly went on her way. Outside the post office she made a phone call.

  David came to the hospital again at visiting time and at once Sally asked for his help.

  ‘Remember the house that Walter Prosser was going to clean and decorate?’ she asked.

  ‘The one that he was too idle to attempt? Yes. Greenways in Grove Lane.’

  ‘Will you ask if the job is still available and whether I can live there while I do the work?’

  ‘You can’t. You aren’t well enough.’

  ‘Not this week, but if I can live there, I’ll be able to start fairly soon. Once I’m out of here I need somewhere to live – and something to fill the hours. I can’t stay with the Martins, I just can’t. I want a place of my own. For one thing, I’d be afraid of Rhys coming home and I never want to see him again.’

  She didn’t see David’s wide smile. At last, he thought, she was trusting him, being honest about Rhys Martin.

  ‘I’ll go to see the owner straight after leaving here,’ he promised. ‘But you aren’t to think about working until you’ve recovered.’ He reached over and held her hand. ‘Sally, I’ll help you in any way I can. If I can get the owner to agree, Mam and I will make sure the place is ready for you and Sadie.’

  She smiled, the first smile for a long time, grateful for his concern.

  A newspaper reporter came to the hospital later that day and the flash of a camera startled her. Other photographs were taken and to her further alarm the reporter had the story about Rhys Martin, the vanishing father. She denied that Rhys was the father of her child but they had talked to Milly Sewell and had all the facts and rumours they needed.

  The piece appeared on the front page and included photographs of Rhys and herself. More worrying still, there was a reference to the burglaries that had taken place at the time he had left and again after he had been seen in the area. The wording was carefully chosen but there wasn’t much room for doubt. The implications were clear: Rhys Martin was a suspect in the crimes and had run away, leaving his girlfriend to cope with childbirth alone. Twice.

  A week later, when Sally was able to leave hospital, David came with his mother to escort her to her temporary home, Mrs Gorse fussing, making sure Sally knew how pleased she was to be able to help. David had arranged for her to go straight to Greenways, the house in need of decoration, having reached an agreement with the owner Matthew Miller, about her living there rent free and also the promise of a small lump sum when the work was completed.

  She was apprehensive about living alone in a large, empty house with the worst of winter ahead of them but she didn’t have much choice. She wondered if she’d be brave enough to use more than one room. Restricting her use to just a kitchen and one room for everything else was sensible, it would be cheaper to heat, and more like a home than rattling around in empty rooms with bare boards and hollow-sounding corridors. One room, she decided. As cosy as I can make it.

  David and his mother had taken her possessions to Greenways, and they carried her few belongings from the hospital to where a taxi waited. An empty house was not a pleasant prospect and she was uneasy about it being a suitable home.

  Recognizing her concerns, Mrs Gorse said cheerfully. ‘Lovely it’ll be. Plenty of room for Sadie to run about. The kitchen is clean and we’ve put a bed and Sadie’s cot in one of the downstairs rooms.’

  ‘We’ve put food in the pantry and there’s coal in the bunker,’ David added.

  ‘Thank you both. I’ll pay what I owe you as soon as I can get to the post office. David, I really don’t know what I’d have done without your help.’

  ‘You’d have managed,’ David said with a smile. ‘You’re the managing type. Come on, Sadie will be waiting for us. She’s with one of the nurses. She’s quite excited about a ride in a taxi.’

  Getting into the taxi, Sally hugged her daughter as though she would never let go.

  Jimmy was kicking a ball around outside the house and he waved casually when she called to him, before running off.

  ‘I must go and thank him as soon as I can get out,’ Sally said. ‘He was the one who ran for help.’

  ‘And thankfully found me,’ David said as he opened the door. Sadie ran in and Sally followed, giving a gasp of delight. Behind a sturdy fire guard a fire blazed a welcome. On a small table, within the circle of the warm glow, plates and cups and saucers. Mrs Gorse, a plump, smiling lady with a thick halo of hair and cheeks so red – Sally always likened her to a rosy apple – busied herself in the sparse kitchen and returned with a pot of tea and some cakes, assuring Sally that there were plenty more in the kitchen.

  ‘We brought everything of yours from the Martins’ place as well as some pieces we had spare,’ she explained cheerfully.

  ‘We aren’t stopping long, just time for you to look around and see if there’s anything we’ve forgotten,’ David said. With an excited Sadie running ahead of them, Sally looked at the large, old, empty rooms sadly in need of decoration. This would keep her busy for quite a while, enough time for her to sort out something permanent. Half an hour later, David and his mother left, and she was in the empty house that was already less daunting because of the welcome they had arranged.

  She decided to keep Sadie up until she herself was ready to sleep, which wouldn’t be very long, she thought, stifling a yawn. A knock at the doo
r surprised her.

  ‘Rick! Come in. How did you know I was here?’ Then she remembered. ‘Jimmy has been watching for me, hasn’t he?’

  ‘He proudly insists he’s involved, as he was the one who found you and got help. Sally, Amy and I are very sorry about the baby. David said he was beautiful.’

  ‘His name was Sam,’ she said softly. ‘And yes, he was beautiful.’

  ‘He always will be, won’t he? Your memory will keep him with you and he’ll always be beautiful.’

  Tears pricked her eyes. ‘Thank you for coming.’

  ‘If there’s anything you need, just ask,’ he said as he turned to leave. ‘Oh, and I brought you these. From Amy and me.’ Reaching outside the door he handed her a large bunch of bright yellow chrysanthemums. ‘To brighten a dark corner,’ he said as he closed the door behind him.

  The room chosen by David and his mother to use as a bedroom was smaller than the one in which they had placed the table and chairs, but it too had a fireplace and it was that one Sally decided on for their living-cum-bedroom-cum-everything. It looked out over the front garden which at present was a brown mess of overgrown and rotting grass. She wondered whether she and Sadie would stay there long enough to tame it and thought not. Just as soon as possible she wanted to get far away from this place.

  Rhys had been her future but now he was nothing more than a miserable memory of the past, so it was with a shock that she saw him walking up the front path a week later. He was dressed in a duffel coat, the hood drawn around his face, but she knew it was him. To her utter disbelief she saw he was carrying flowers. Did he really think he could calm her pain and disappointment with flowers?

  She picked up Sadie and ran up the stairs and watched from the window as he looked up at the house then approached the door. He knocked several times, glancing up in between and then walked around to the back of the house. Thankfully, she remembered the door was locked. She had a brief look at his face and was shocked. He looked ill. Was that the reason he was staying away from her? But no, he’d need her and his parents if that were the reason. It must have been a trick of the light.

  He came back and knocked again on the door before pushing something through the letterbox. Then he walked away, stopping to look back several times as though reluctant to accept defeat. She waited a long time before going back down the stairs.

  There was a note on the floor and she picked it up and held it between finger and thumb as though it was contaminated. It was brief, just an apology and telling her of his grief at the loss of their son. He promised to explain everything if she could be patient for just a few more months. She was glad there was a fire burning and watched the flames destroy his words with some satisfaction.

  Jimmy had ridden around outside the house several times but had cycled away each time she had called to him to come in. He felt a strong embarrassment having seen her about to give birth and later, as she sat against the tree nursing the newly born baby. He hadn’t been back to the mill either, unable to cope with the fear of the place since that day, half believing it was haunted by the baby who had died. He had walked down the path twice but could go no further than halfway. Once during the night, he heard the call of a vixen and convinced himself it was the cries of the dead baby.

  Two weeks after Sally had moved into the house, he packed some food while his parents were out and promised himself that this time he would go right to the mill and lay the fear of ghosts for ever. I’m almost eleven years old, he told himself, and I’ve been walking through the wood at night since I was eight.

  He dressed, packed his bag with food and his torch and bottle of water, and he stood, with a blanket over his arm, listening impatiently to his parents downstairs, arguing as usual. The television was quiet. Why didn’t they come to bed?

  ‘Useless you are!’ he heard his father shout. Useless was his favourite word, Jimmy thought with a sigh. ‘You and that son of yours. I can’t believe how useless you are. Why don’t you get a decent dressing gown? Look at you, slovenly old thing, tatty slippers, it’s all you ever wear in the house. Dress up smart for work though.’

  ‘If you got a job and we didn’t have to depend on my wages you might be justified in complaining!’ his mother retaliated. There was the sound of furniture being dragged and he could picture the scene as though he were there. His father threatening, his mother defiant, although he had never known a blow to be struck.

  It was half past eleven before he considered it safe to leave and he hurried from the house on tiptoes, his feet not making a sound. Once out on the road he moved fast, and his determination not to waver remained strong, but as he approached the mill his feet slowed and he began to listen for the sounds of the countryside at night with dread.

  As he drew near to the mill he lost his nerve. He was aware of that atavistic fear of attack, that vulnerability, that cold sensation between his shoulder blades. He stood undecided for a moment and then twitched his nostrils. He thought he smelt smoke. Someone was there. Or had been. No one could be sleeping there at this time of year, surely? He stepped closer and as his nerve was about to break he heard someone coughing. Eric!

  ‘Hi,’ he called casually as he came in sight of a bright fire with Eric shrouded in blankets sitting beside it. ‘I didn’t expect to see anyone here in this weather. November isn’t the time for picnicking, but I’ve brought some food. Supper tastes better out here. Fancy a jam sandwich?’

  ‘Hello, young Jimmy, why aren’t you in bed?’

  ‘Couldn’t sleep. I hoped to get a sight of the fox. Seen him, have you?’

  As naturally as always, he sat beside Eric and they shared their food. Jimmy was careful not to eat too much, aware that Eric must be broke to have to sleep in the mill in the winter. ‘Got kicked out again, did you?’ he asked, muttering around a rather stale cake.

  ‘No, this time it was my choice. Not a word, mind, but I wanted to buy a present for Sadie. She had to leave the Martins’ house and I don’t think there’s much comfort in the place they’re living in at present.’

  ‘A present. That’s nice,’ Jimmy said.

  When he walked back home leaving his blanket for Eric to use, the wood seemed as friendly as it had always been. The damp, warm scent of early winter was comforting and familiar, relaxing him. He stopped several times and listened to the quiet rustling as small creatures went about their foraging. An owl flew past and he marvelled at its almost silent flight, trying not to think of the small animals who would provide its supper. Back home he slept soundly, still half dressed, until his mother called him for school. If she wondered why his pyjamas were unused on the chair, she didn’t bother to enquire.

  Amy was at the nursery one morning when Sally was waiting to collect Sadie. ‘I hope you are fully recovered, Sally,’ she said. She looked uneasy.

  ‘I have to be,’ Sally told her. ‘My grieving has to be in private. I had to put on the brave woman act for everyone, including Sadie, and I think it helped in a way. Mourning can go on for ever if you dwell on it and even the kindest people have had enough after a while.’

  ‘Rick and I were very upset. When that Milly woman came around to tell me of your ordeal, I’m afraid I was angry with her and, well, I presumed she knew, about you and Rhys being – you know – and I said too much. I’m terribly sorry, but I think I was unwittingly responsible for that newspaper article.’

  ‘Don’t worry, it’s a miracle it hadn’t been guessed before this. It had to come out sometime. At least I had a bit of sympathy. Mrs Green had told me she didn’t want me working for her any more and that was a shock – I depended on her and a couple more to pay for nursery for Sadie. After the article she asked me to go back.’

  ‘I’m glad it wasn’t all disaster. Look, here she comes!’ She pointed to where Sadie was running to the door, a very messy model made from oddments in her hand.

  ‘Thank you for being so understanding about my mistake,’ Amy said as Sally hugged her daughter, getting paint over her face in
the process. ‘As soon as we’re settled in, I’d love it if you could come and have tea with me one day.’

  Sally thanked her and as she walked away she had the happy feeling that Amy might become a friend.

  Sally and Sadie had been in the house for two weeks when Eric called. Jimmy was with him. He carried a large parcel which Sadie gleefully unwrapped, tearing at the paper in great excitement. Eric had bought her a very large teddy bear which the little girl at once placed on the floor and cuddled. Neither Eric nor Jimmy explained what he had done to get the money but she guessed he’d have had to give up something. She offered them food and hurriedly provided a steaming bowl of homemade soup followed by pancakes.

  Sally certainly wasn’t short of visitors although once her friends realized she was working on her cleaning jobs during the mornings and the decorating most evenings after Sadie was asleep, they timed their visits accordingly and kept them brief. The afternoons were for Sadie and friends.

  Rhys called several times and although she knew he had seen her, she still didn’t answer the door. On one occasion she had a good look at him and was further alarmed by the gauntness of his face. He looked so tired and again she wondered if illness had been the reason he had stayed away. TB maybe? Something he might be afraid of passing on to her or Sadie?

  Valmai came often but she didn’t ask her about her son. She didn’t want to show any interest in the man who had let her down so badly.

  She did ask David if he had heard news of him and he looked at her quizzically. ‘Still care, do you?’

  ‘I want nothing more to do with him,’ she replied vehemently. ‘But I saw him yesterday when he knocked at the door and I thought he looked ill.’

  ‘Why don’t you ask Mrs Martin?’

  She shook her head. ‘I don’t want to show any interest. She has to accept that one day soon I’ll leave here and she mustn’t be given hope of a happy ending.’

  ‘Where will you go? Not too far away, Sally. You know I don’t want to lose touch with you and Sadie.’