Fear Has Long Fingers

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Fear Has Long Fingers Page 2

by Jeanette Taylor Ford


  “Thank you, my darling. I love you.”

  He kissed her briefly.

  “In fact, I’ll call Mum now before we have dinner.”

  An hour later they set off for Hereford, leaving John in the safe hands of Sheila. It took less that twenty-five minutes to reach the city and ten minutes after that, Kenny and Lucy were walking briskly through the hospital corridors.

  When they found Harry, he had a man and woman with him, obviously his parents. A girl of about thirteen hovered in a corner.

  “Hello, excuse us trespassing on you like this,” began Lucy. “We’re two of the people who helped to rescue Harry. We wanted to see how he was because they wouldn’t tell us anything.”

  George stood up and shook their hands.

  “We can’t thank you enough for rescuing our lad. There was nothing I could do to help him.”

  “Yes, we are very grateful,” chipped in his wife. “Of course, he should never have been there in the first place. I did tell his father not to take him.”

  George laid a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Not now, please Netta. These good people don’t want to hear us fighting.”

  “Nor do I,” came a voice from the bed. “And they’ve come to see me, haven’t you?”

  “We have indeed, lad.” Kenny strode over and smiled at Harry. “I’m Kenny Baxter and this is my wife, Lucy. It was Lucy who found you – or rather, our dog Clarry who brought her to you. I came with two of my workers and helped you out.”

  “I remember seeing your face, I think. Or perhaps I didn’t, I’m not sure.” Harry screwed up his face trying to recall what happened.

  “It really doesn’t matter. Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re safe and alive.”

  Lucy and Kenny chatted with Harry and his family for a while. After about half an hour, Kenny said,

  “Well, we’ll leave you good folks in peace. We have to rescue my mum from our little son – or the other way round! We’re glad to have met you. This is our address and phone number if you should want to contact us, or if you want to visit the area again, we can help you find a place to stay.” Kenny handed George a card and the man tucked it away in his wallet.

  George walked a little way with them.

  “I didn’t want to say this in front of the rest of the family, but we are very concerned about Harry,” he told them in a low voice. “It seems that Harry has a form of paralysis, caused by the injury to his spine. The doctors say that he will probably recover but they don’t know how long it will take. It could be a few days, or weeks, or months. In the meantime, we should be going home the day after tomorrow. We’re staying in a friend’s house while he and his family are holidaying abroad but they are coming back then and we’ll have to leave.”

  “We’re sorry to hear about Harry’s complications,” replied Kenny. “But you have our details on that card so if you need our help, just call. We will do what we can.”

  The man nodded his head and smiled, rather wanly. “You probably gathered that my wife blames me entirely and I must say I agree with her. I should have realised it would be dangerous after so much rain and my son has a phobia about water anyway. I shouldn’t have insisted that he come. Now, my boy is crippled.” His eyes filled with tears and he wiped them away with his hand.

  Kenny put his hand on George’s shoulder. “We all make mistakes sometimes. You couldn’t have known what would happen. No father would put his child in danger on purpose.”

  George bowed his head. “I’d better get back to them,” he said and headed back to his family. Kenny and Lucy went through the outer doors of the ward and finally exited the hospital.

  “Poor Harry,” said Lucy, once they were in the car. “Paralysed. I do hope he recovers, he’s so young to be left like that.”

  “Perhaps it would have been better if we hadn’t rescued him in time,” remarked Kenny.

  “Oh, don’t say that! I feel sorry for his poor parents too. They’re obviously struggling financially and now they have to deal with this.”

  “I feel particularly bad for George. He feels so wretched because he’d made the boy go with them but Netta is right, he should have known better.”

  “That’s true, but it’s no good going on about it, is there? It’s just making a difficult situation worse.”

  They said no more until they reached home and filled in Sheila on the boy’s condition. She shook her head sadly.

  “Poor lad, poor parents. Now, I must get off home. I’ll see you tomorrow, Son.”

  “I’ll see you home, Mum.”

  “I’ll be alright going along the river path, dear.”

  “No, I insist. If anything happened to you, Tom would skin me alive! In any case, it’s not far and I’ll be easy in my mind knowing that you’re home okay.”

  “Oh, alright then, son, if you insist. Goodbye then, Lucy, my dear.”

  The women kissed and Lucy waved to them as they set off towards the river path. Then she sank down thankfully on the sofa to await the return of her husband. John was a darling and not really any trouble but now she was pregnant, she tired more easily.

  As she sat, eyes closed, she thought about the family they had just left at the hospital and in her mind she prayed for Harry’s recovery so that the pain the parents were going through would be eased.

  Chapter 4

  Netta sat in the conservatory of the beautiful rented house and sighed deeply. She should be preparing for the family’s return home but somehow she just couldn’t get herself together. She wished with all her heart that they’d never come here. She hadn’t wanted to but they had needed a holiday – that is, they needed to take the kids somewhere so at least they could say they’d had one – and it was kind of the Athertons to let them come to this house. The holiday had been good too, until the wretched accident.

  They all loved Hay-on-Wye, which was so quaint and interesting and surrounded by history. By all accounts it had once been an important place and had once had a castle. The Wye Valley was beautiful and they had enjoyed visiting Hereford and Ross-on-Wye, exploring Goodrich Castle and the activities at Symonds Yat. Yes, for at least ten days they’d had a great time.

  Now though, everything had changed and Netta felt that the life had been punched out of her. She loved both her children, of course she did, but she had always been so proud of her boy, her first baby, and it tore at her heart to see him lying helpless in his hospital bed.

  Every time she thought about it, her anger against her husband rose to the surface; she felt like she never wanted to be near him again. How utterly stupid could a man get?

  “Mum?” Netta looked up at the sound of Rowena’s voice.

  “Yes, love?”

  “Are you alright?”

  At the sight of her daughter’s eyes, full of concern, gazing at her, Netta pulled herself together. She put her hand out to her daughter and Rowena pulled a wicker chair over so she could sit closer to her. They sat next to each other, holding hands.

  “Will Harry get better, Mum?” Rowena’s voice was anxious.

  “I wish I knew, Rowee.”

  “We have to go home, don’t we? How can we be so far away from Harry, Mum? He needs us here.”

  “He does. But we have nowhere to stay. We can’t afford to pay for Bed and Breakfast anywhere. And you have to go back to school.”

  “I don’t want to go back to school! I want to stay here, with Harry.”

  “So do I, love.”

  “Why can’t we stay here with the Athertons? This house is so big, we could easily fit in here.”

  “We can’t impose upon them; they don’t actually know us. They wouldn’t want strangers living with them.”

  “Not even for Harry..?”

  “No, absolutely not. Your father wouldn’t stay either. It was touch and go that they let us stay here while they were away.”

  They fell silent, each to their own thoughts.

  Netta felt thoroughly defeated; she just didn’t know what to do.<
br />
  “Dinner is on the table!”

  Mother and daughter looked up at the sound of George’s voice. Netta slumped down again.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Come on, Mum, you have to keep your strength up. Somehow we have to work out what to do. Try to forgive Dad. He really didn’t mean for Harry to get hurt and he’s as cut up as you, you know.”

  Netta marvelled at the old head on the young shoulders of her daughter. What she would have done without Rowena since Harry’s accident, she didn’t know, for she wouldn’t let George near her. She let the girl take her by the hand and lead her through the sumptuous lounge to the kitchen, where they ate their meals round a square table just big enough to seat four people. There was an elegant dining room but they felt there was no need to use it. Now, they sat down to sausages, mash and baked beans. Probably not the kind of cuisine that would suit the Athertons, but it was good enough for them.

  The kitchen was large, with modern cupboards and gleaming accessories. Netta felt they could probably get the whole of the ground floor of their house in the kitchen of this one! The Athertons were obviously well off.

  Netta forced herself to eat but the food seemed tasteless. There was no conversation around the table. Only a few days ago, their meals were accompanied by banter and laughter but no longer. The holiday that had been so delightful and the accommodation so luxurious had turned into a nightmare.

  **********

  Lucy was hanging out the washing when a car pulled up the drive of River View Farmhouse. It was an old, rather dull red Ford Mondeo. She put the peg bag down and went to see who had arrived. It was the Thompson family.

  “We have to leave tomorrow and we couldn’t go without thanking you again for saving Harry,” said George.

  “Come on in,” Lucy invited them and they followed her through the kitchen door.

  “This is a lovely place,” offered Netta as they sat in the living room.

  “It belonged to my Aunt Beatrice for many years. She was my dad’s sister and she helped raise me when my mother died. Aunt Bea left it to me in her will and Kenny came to live here when we married because we love it.”

  “We’ve been staying in a big, posh house, belonging to a family called Atherton; we were put into contact with them through mutual friends. It’s gorgeous, but it has no heart. This place has heart.”

  “You feel it? It’s what I loved about it right from the time I first came here. Now, I’ve just baked some flapjacks, do you fancy some? And a drink – tea, coffee? Or maybe you would prefer a milkshake or some of my home-made lemonade?”

  “That would be lovely, thank you,” replied George. “I think I’d like to try the lemonade. What about you, dear, and Rowena?”

  “I’d like lemonade too, please,” said Rowena. “Mum? What would you like?”

  “Oh, erm, anything, thank you.”

  Lucy noticed that Netta was pale and obviously ill at ease. She could understand that, with her son in hospital. She brought in the drinks and a plateful of flapjacks. She gave everyone a plate and told them to help themselves. Rowena took one and sat down to take her first bite.

  “Mmm, this is gorgeous, Mrs Baxter. Wish mum could make these!”

  “I’m not much of a cook, Mrs Baxter.” Netta attempted a smile.

  “We can’t all do everything. And please do call me Lucy. Although I love being Mrs Baxter, I think Lucy is more friendly. So, how is Harry progressing?”

  Tears welled up in Netta’s eyes.

  “There’s no change as yet. How can we go home and leave him?”

  “Won’t the hospital transfer him to your local hospital?”

  “They said they would once he starts to show progress, some sign of the nerves being repaired. But also, there’s currently no bed available where we are. We would stay here if we could but, with George out of work, we can’t afford it.”

  Lucy had a light-bulb moment.

  “I’ve just thought of something. I have another house, here in the village, a bungalow actually, which has just been left to me by a friend who had no family. It is furnished; has everything you might need. I could let the three of you stay there, rent free, as long as Harry needs you here. How does that sound?”

  Netta and George looked at each other incredulously.

  “I – we – don’t know what to say,” finally responded George.

  “Tell you what, I’ll take you to see the bungalow, and then you can decide. My little boy is currently having a nap so when he gets up we can go.”

  “That’s so kind of you. How can we ever thank you?”

  “No need. Have a flapjack.”

  They each took one; Lucy encouraged Rowena to have another which she ate with relish.

  “You’re right, Rowee, these are very good,” said her father and Netta nodded.

  “As it’s such a lovely day, would you like to come and see my garden?”

  They followed Lucy outside, looking at the large natural pond and then through the gate into the walled garden.

  “It’s wonderful. What’s that big house over there?” Lucy looked to where Netta was pointing.

  “That’s Sutton Court. It’s a residential and nursing home. It’s run by some lovely friends of mine, the Miltons. This walled garden used to be part of their estate but they sold it to my aunt some years ago because it was too much to look after and Aunt Bea needed more ground to grow her fruit. My husband owns the garden centre and nursery on the other side of my farmhouse and he and his workers help me to keep the garden in order, which they used to do when my aunt lived here.”

  They made their way back towards the house.

  “What on earth do you do with all the fruit?”

  “Oh, didn’t I say? I have a business called ‘Aunt Bea’s Pantry’ and I make jams and jellies, pickles and chutneys to sell in the local area. I also supply the village shop with bread and cakes every day.”

  “However do you manage all that with a small child? And another on the way, I see.”

  “Sometimes I wonder!” Lucy laughed. “My friend Mary Price helps me during my busiest times. She’s very good. My mother-in-law, who also happens to be my stepmother, is brilliant and helps me with John a lot. The Milton’s youngest daughter, Sophie, used to help me but she’s working now – she became a chef after working with me.”

  “I’d love to help you!” exclaimed Rowena. “I would love to learn how to cook like you, Lucy!”

  “Well, if your parents decide to stay in the bungalow, you will be welcome.” Lucy smiled at the girl’s beaming face. Even Netta smiled and hugged her daughter briefly. Although George was with them, he said little, and it seemed to Lucy that he was like an outsider in this family. Lucy’s soft heart felt for him.

  “Oh, I think I can hear John. Do sit here on these garden chairs if you’d like. I won’t be long.”

  Lucy ran off towards the kitchen door and soon disappeared inside.

  **********

  “It’s lovely. So light and airy.”

  Netta was standing in the lounge of the bungalow left to Lucy by Sam Williams. She looked around at the green armchairs with embroidered head protectors and the Royal Dolton ladies, tastefully arranged on the mantle and on shelves in an arched alcove.

  “Someone had good taste and those covers have been hand-made, haven’t they? Who lived here?”

  “It was a sweet couple called Emily and Samuel Williams. She died in March and he died only a few weeks ago. She had cancer and he looked after her devotedly. Then he died in his sleep. They had no children, sadly, so I kept watch over them, especially after Emily had gone and Sam was alone. There is a young woman next door, Sue, who used to pop in as well. Emily loved her home and she made those covers. In fact, you’ll see her handiwork all over the house. Sam loved his garden and there is a greenhouse where he grew his seeds and tomato plants. I took all the plants away after he died – Kenny wouldn’t be happy if I let plants die!”

  Lucy chuckled delightfu
lly.

  “This, of course, is the main room and through there is a very adequate kitchen. There are two bedrooms through here.”

  She led them across the hallway and opened a door to a sizeable room with a double bed and an attractive wardrobe and chest of drawers set. The other bedroom held a single bed and a built-in wardrobe. There was also a bathroom with a shower.

  They went out to the back garden, which was a fair size and had flowers still blooming in the beds surrounding a lawn that was neatly mowed.

  “Kenny makes sure the garden is kept tidy,” explained Lucy.

  “If we came here, I’d do it,” said George. “I love gardening.”

  “Oh well then, that’s great. It would save Kenny a job. So, what do you think? Tell you what, I’ll just pop next door to say hello to Susan while you have a chat about it.”

  Lucy took John’s hand.

  “Come on, darling, let’s go and see Sue.”

  “Thee Thue,” repeated John.

  “That’s right. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Don’t feel obliged. If it’s not going to work for you, don’t be afraid to say no.”

  *****

  When Lucy came back about ten minutes later, she knew straight away what their answer was going to be. Netta was already looking in the cupboards in the kitchen and George was pottering around the garden, pulling out the odd weed. Rowena was in the lounge, curled up on the sofa, eyes glued to her mobile phone. They looked at home.

  When Netta came through from the kitchen, her eyes glowed.

  “Mrs Baxter – Lucy – I can’t thank you enough for this. I can’t tell you what this means to me – to us. I promise we will look after your bungalow.”

  Lucy put her hand on Netta’s shoulder.

  “I know you will. I’m happy to help. You’ll have good news to tell Harry when you visit him.”

  “Oh yes! He was really down because he knew we had to leave the house tomorrow. We need to go and fetch things. Is it alright if we move in right away?”

  “Of course. Here are the keys. Move in whenever you’re ready. I’ll leave you to it now. Do give my good wishes to Harry when you see him.”

 

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