Sunshine Through the Rain

by Gilly Stewart

  ‘Time we were off,’ she said, picking up her bag and keys. ‘Thanks for calling by, Kit.’

  ‘I could come with you, if you want me to?’

  ‘No I definitely do not.’ She just wanted him to leave, which reluctantly he did.

  They drove to Dumfries in silence. Ellen thought Angus must be worried about the ordeal ahead, and tried and failed to think of words to comfort him. But as they drew into the car park behind the council buildings he said, ‘Why are you so horrible to Kit these days?’

  His words certainly distracted her from her other worries. She stared at him in amazement. ‘What do you mean? I’m not horrible to Kit.’

  ‘You are. Even Lucy has noticed. He used to be around a lot, helping and that, you know. Now he hardly ever is.’

  ‘We haven’t got so many animals now. And he’s got his mum to worry about.’

  Angus shrugged his disbelief. ‘I don’t think he means to annoy you,’ he said.

  They entered the red sandstone building in silence, but this time it was because Ellen was too stunned to speak. How could it possibly be her fault that she and Kit were estranged? It was far better for the children if she wasn’t distracted by him. Determinedly, she put the whole topic out of her mind.

  Three hours later she and Angus came out of the building by the same door, both equally shell-shocked.

  ‘Let’s go and get something to eat,’ said Ellen.

  Angus followed on behind her, saying nothing. The nearest café was down the Friar’s Vennel, and they took the first table they came to. Ellen ordered a large black coffee and it was only when she had taken her first sip that she felt able to think.

  ‘It could have been worse,’ she said cautiously.

  ‘Wonder what they said to the other kids,’ said Angus.

  The discussions had been firmly focussed on Angus and his ‘behaviour problems’. No mention had been allowed of the responsibility the other boys might have had in the matter. Ellen devoutly hoped that this was a matter of policy and not because it was felt the others were not at fault.

  ‘Simon says they’ve got hearings too,’ Angus continued. ‘But he didn’t know when. Can I have a burger and chips?’

  Ellen nodded. She would have agreed to anything just then. ‘Are you all right?’ she said, examining his face, to which a faint colour had now returned.

  Angus gave his characteristic shrug, but he didn’t seem too downhearted. ‘I thought when they said about compulsory supervision, you know, I thought they meant I’d have to go away …’

  ‘So did I.’ Ellen suppressed a shudder and gave him a quick hug, as much for her benefit as his. But she wasn’t going to lose him. They’d had to agree to twelve months’ ‘supervision’ by a social worker, and a few other things. But they could cope with that. ‘It’ll only be a few visits, really, and then those workshops she talked about.’ How to cope when we’ve been hurt. How to cope when we make mistakes. How to cope with resentment.

  She still resented that Angus was being punished when he really wasn’t the perpetrator. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t say this, but I still don’t think it’s fair,’ she said.

  ‘I’m sorry you’ve got to go on one too,’ said Angus, flushing with embarrassment. ‘I don’t get it, why they think you need to learn that stuff.’

  Ellen thought there was a lot of stuff she needed to learn. She just wasn’t sure she’d learn it at a workshop. ‘As I said, it could be worse. Hopefully this’ll be the end of it.’

  ‘As long as I don’t re-offend within twelve months, in which case it might be more appropriate to resort to a criminal process.’

  Ellen didn’t like to hear the formal words on his lips, but she made herself smile and say, ‘You better bloody not. You’ll have me to deal with if you do.’

  Angus made an effort and responded with a half-smile of his own.

  When they had finished their late lunch Ellen said, ‘What do you want to do now?’ It was amazing how at ease she felt with the boy. One thing, at least, had come out of these troubles. She could speak to him without worrying how he would respond, could have a proper conversation with him. ‘Home or what?’

  ‘What time is it? If we hurry we can pick up the kids from school. Let’s do that. They’ll want to know what’s happened.’

  ‘Indeed they will.’ As would Clare, and her parents, and the school … And Kit, but he needn’t think she was going to seek him out to tell him. Just to think of him interfering, again made her flush with anger.

  Kit didn’t see what else he could do. He had offered the hand of friendship – twice, if you counted this morning – and Ellen had rejected it. Call it pride or simple common sense, he wasn’t going to try again.

  He decided to forget about neighbours and went out for a drink after evening clinic with Alistair and Deb. He didn’t even object when the vet nurse, Devon, brought a bunch of youngsters to join their table, seating herself triumphantly at his side. He bought a couple of rounds and laughed and joked, but he couldn’t have said he actually enjoyed himself.

  He had thought of a way to discover the news. He would call on Clare.

  ‘I thought it was Grant,’ was Clare’s comment as she opened the door. Not an auspicious welcome, but she held the door wide which he took as an invitation to go in. ‘Working late?’ she asked, seeing the direction from which his car had come. ‘Or were you at the hospital?’

  ‘No, I had a drink at the Duke’s.’

  ‘Excellent,’ she said encouragingly. ‘Time for another one now?’

  Kit declined. He just needed information. ‘Have you heard how Angus got on today?’

  ‘Yes! Brilliant news, isn’t it?’

  ‘It is?’ He exhaled with a great gust of relief. ‘He got off?’

  ‘I don’t know if you’d call it getting off. But despite Ellen’s grumbles I think they were pretty lenient with him. They couldn’t do nothing, could they, not after he’d been caught with a knife.’

  Nothing was exactly what Kit thought they should have done, but all he said was, ‘So what is his punishment?’

  Clare examined him critically from behind the dark curtain of hair. ‘Why are you asking me and not Ellen?’

  Kit sighed and hunched down in his seat. ‘Ellen and I aren’t getting on too well just now,’ he said briefly. ‘So are you going to tell me or not?’

  Clare narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. ‘You and Ellen, I don’t know what your problem is.’

  ‘Could you just tell me about Angus please?’

  ‘OK.’ She frowned, marshalling her thoughts. ‘Angus has been given something called a Supervision Order …’ She told him what she understood this to mean, and Kit felt his temper rising all over again at the unfairness of the system. OK, so the boy wouldn’t have a criminal record and he wasn’t being separated from his family, but it didn’t sound like this was going to be any fun for Angus, or Ellen.

  He thanked her as soon as he could and headed off. So that was that. No serious harm done.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Autumn had arrived with a vengeance, although it was only the end of September. Winds raged around Craigallan, making Ellen glad it wasn’t situated in a more exposed spot. She examined the roof anxiously, but so far could see no problem slates, and the patching job done in the early summer seemed to be holding. The wild weather had blown the last of the leaves off the trees in the copse and if she had wanted to she could have had a good view of progress on Kit’s house whenever she took Monty out. Mostly she avoided going in a direction that might tempt her to look. Since their argument over his visit to social services they hadn’t spoken. She couldn’t remember, in retrospect, why she had been quite so annoyed.

  Even without seeing the house, Ellen couldn’t stop herself thinking of Kit. It wasn’t just that she missed the practical help he used to give, she missed him. And that wasn’t good. Kit had been the one who withdrew from her, who’d marched off, she should learn from that.

  A Saturday even
ing a couple of weeks after the Children’s Hearing Ellen invited Clare and Grace for a meal to celebrate the (relatively) positive outcome. She would prove to Kit, and herself, that she had the beginnings of a social life.

  ‘Have you heard about Mrs Jack?’ asked Clare as she mixed up a salad dressing.

  ‘Heard what?’

  ‘About Mr Jack, actually. He died a couple of weeks ago. None of us even knew.’

  ‘That’s a shame, now I feel bad. I never believed the husband was really ill.’

  ‘Nor did I. Maybe he died just to escape from her! Anyway, she’s moving back to England. Thank goodness. She can be someone else’s nightmare neighbour.’

  ‘And she won’t be spying on us.’ Ellen’s spirits lifted at the thought. She knew, well she was fairly sure, she was doing a good job with the children. Every time she passed the Jacks’ house she had the sensation of being watched, and judged. It would be such a relief not to feel that.

  She found herself really enjoying the evening. Socialising, which had seemed so easy, just a natural part of life in Edinburgh, took some organising down here. There were the distances involved, the fact she was only starting to get to know people, and then the children. Everything had to be fitted in around them. But she was starting to make progress, wasn’t she?

  ‘Thanks for inviting us. It’s good to get out.’

  Clare said, ‘It can’t be easy for you. There must be all sorts of things you used to do in your old life that you can’t do now.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ said Ellen quickly.

  ‘I know you don’t complain, but you must miss things. What about your Edinburgh friends? And your climbing? Didn’t you used to do lots of that? I’m sure I remember Jess talking about it, she was impressed and appalled at the same time.’

  Ellen laughed. ‘Yes, it wasn’t quite Jess’s kind of thing.’ It was funny to think about climbing after all this time. Jess had thought it frivolous and dangerous, but perhaps there had also been a sneaking respect as well. ‘I do miss it,’ she said, with a soft sigh. ‘But then I miss so much about my old life.’ Not so much the friends, who she realised now had been little more than acquaintances, but the peace, the order, the … Well, no point in thinking about it. The change had brought other advantages. She loved the children, she really did.

  ‘It’s only normal to miss it. And Richard.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t miss him at all.’ It was true, she didn’t.

  ‘Men do have their uses,’ said Clare, with that distant look she got in her eyes when she thought of Grant.

  ‘Things going well?’ said Ellen with a smile.

  ‘Mmm. He’s thinking of moving in with me. He’s at my place so much it probably wouldn’t be much different. But it seems like a big thing, you know, if he gives up his house. I’m not sure we’re ready for it.’

  Ellen admired the calm way Clare could discuss her relationship. That’s how she liked to be herself, cool and in control. ‘Grant seems a nice guy.’

  ‘He is. Grace is very fond of him. Yes, you know, I think it might work out.’ Clare pondered for a while, twirling her wine glass in her hands. The debris of the evening meal still cluttered the table but Ellen was enjoying relaxing with a friend. It could wait. ‘Even if you don’t miss Richard, don’t you miss having a man around the place?’

  ‘I’ve always lived on my own,’ Ellen said quickly. She didn’t want the conversation to become yet another of Clare’s attempts to bring her and Kit together. ‘And now it’s alone with the kids.’

  Kit’s mum moved into Westerwood House in late September. It was amazing to see her there, settled in her own room with the few pieces of furniture she had wanted to take with her. She seemed proud of it, and desperate to get downstairs so she could have a coffee and a chat with Nora.

  ‘You don’t mind me moving here?’ she said to Kit as he walked with her to the lift. There was only a very slight hitch in her speech now.

  ‘Of course not! Why should I mind?’

  ‘I liked to keep the house on for you, so you could visit. I didn’t want you to know how difficult it had got.’

  ‘I should have realised.’

  ‘No, dear. You take too much on yourself, don’t you know that? Now you’ll know I’m being well looked after here, and in a while, if we decide, we can put the house on the market. You’d rather live in your new place than there, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Yes, of course. But we don’t need to put it on the market. Wouldn’t you rather know it was there, that you could go back if you wanted?’

  ‘I won’t be going back,’ she said. And she really didn’t seem upset by the idea. It was Kit who was having more difficulty adjusting than she was.

  ‘Now your mum is settled, when are you going to sort yourself out?’ This was Debbie, of course. Always happy to ask the difficult questions. Kit had been invited for a meal with her and Alistair. He might not have been so keen to go if he’d known it would lead to this.

  ‘I am settling down. If building your own house isn’t settling down, I don’t know what is.’ Kit threw Alistair a pleading expression, but before his friend could speak Deb was in there again.

  ‘That’s not what I mean. You’re not naturally a loner, Kit. What you need is a girlfriend.’

  Kit cringed. He really liked Debbie, but sometimes she was a bit much.

  ‘Leave him alone,’ said Alistair. ‘Kit has never had a problem getting himself a woman. If he wants a girlfriend, he’ll find one.’

  ‘But it has to be the right one,’ said Debbie earnestly. They had just finished their first course and she didn’t seem in any hurry to get up and clear the table.

  ‘And there was I thinking just anyone would do,’ said Alistair ironically.

  ‘He’s had his fair share of short-term relationships. Someone like Devon would be OK for that, but she isn’t what he needs now.’

  ‘I don’t think Devon would agree.’

  ‘Excuse me, but do you mind not talking about me as if I wasn’t here?’

  ‘Well, say something if you want to,’ said Debbie, smiling engagingly.

  ‘Aren’t the nights drawing in,’ said Kit. ‘It fairly feels like winter is on its way, doesn’t it? Now, shall I clear the table? I can even do the washing up, if you want. That’ll keep me nice and safe in the kitchen.’

  At such a determined snub, even Debbie had the sense to let the topic fall. Instead she asked how Kit’s mum was settling in at Westerwood House.

  ‘Really well.’ Kit grinned. OK, it might have been a surprise that his mother was so happy with the move, but it was a pleasant one. ‘She seems so comfortable there, so relaxed. And the staff are really nice.’

  ‘That must be such a relief. And do you think she’d enjoy visitors? I wondered about calling in on my afternoon off.’

  ‘I think she’d love that. Thanks, Deb.’

  Then Deborah blotted her copybook again by saying, as he was leaving, ‘Don’t forget you’re coming for another meal with us on Tuesday. As it’s Al’s birthday it’ll be curry. I’m going to do the whole caboodle: sambals, naan bread, the lot.’

  ‘Of course I haven’t forgotten, I’m looking forward to it.’

  ‘And you could always bring someone with you, if you wanted? How about that neighbour or yours, what’s her name? Ellen?’

  ‘De-eb,’ said her husband.

  ‘Thanks but no thanks,’ said Kit firmly.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  It was Lucy who finally brought things to a head, one tea-time in early October.

  ‘I want to invite Kit to my birthday party,’ she said. ‘He came to Angus’s. He’ll want to come.’

  ‘Will he?’ said Callum.

  ‘Kit’s busy at the moment,’ said Angus quickly, giving Ellen a worried glance. She had never discouraged the children from visiting their favourite neighbour, but they must have known something had happened between her and Kit.

  ‘Invite Kit, by all means,’ she said brightly to Lucy. ‘Bu
t don’t be too disappointed if he isn’t able to come. He has to work some evenings.’

  The next day they awoke to a beautiful autumn morning. Ellen walked with the children down to the village for the sheer pleasure of being out in it. And as she climbed back up the hill she took a deep breath, and made a decision that had been hanging over her all night. She walked on past Craigallan and up the track. She hadn’t seen Kit’s car go out this morning so with any luck she would be able to beard him there and then, before her courage failed.

  Monty scampered ahead of her, as though delighted once again to be allowed on this territory. When he saw Kit, warmly wrapped up and doing something to the window frames on the house, he gave a yip of delight. The house had progressed so much since Ellen was last here, the roof finished, the beautiful wide sheets of glass installed. She really liked the clean lines of the place.

  Kit turned around slowly and watched her make her way over the rough ground. It was deeply rutted, which made walking awkward. Ellen was glad of the excuse to look down. The sight of him so close, his face stern and watchful, made her heart thud with nerves.

  ‘Hi there. Beautiful day,’ she said.

  ‘Yes. Cold though. And there’s heavy rain coming.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Ellen didn’t want to talk about the weather. Kit remained beside the unfinished house, neither welcoming nor discouraging. She knew she had behaved the same way towards him a number of times recently, but that didn’t make it any easier. She tugged her hat down further over her ears. The wind really was chilly up here. ‘How’ve you been?’ she asked.

  ‘Fine. Busy.’

  ‘That’s good.’ Didn’t he realise how difficult it was for her to take the first step, how out of character? She seized her courage in both hands and said, ‘I wanted to talk to you.’

  ‘Yes. Well.’ He put down the tools he had been using and brushed his hands together. ‘Do you want to go inside?’