The Long Way Home: A moving saga of lost family

by Whitmee, Jeanne

  ‘What’s two years? We’d be together.’

  Leah stared at him. She’d made a terrible mistake in getting involved with Tom and if she didn’t get herself out of it quickly things would get worse. Consort! The very sound of the word was stuffy. She pictured herself dressed up in dreadful outfits from Designer Suits at Clayton’s, accompanying Tom on all those dreary occasions — opening fêtes and making official tours of hospitals, schools and factories; Civic dinners with endless mind-numbing speeches. It would be like being buried alive. She’d rather be buried alive. She stirred her coffee thoughtfully, frowning as the germ of a suspicion occurred to her. Could it be that Tom was making an attempt to kill two birds with one stone? Was this his way of trapping her into remaining legitimately at his side, and in so doing ridding himself of Hilary’s unwanted attentions at the same time? She looked up at his self-satisfied, smiling face and came to a sudden decision.

  ‘Tom — I wasn’t going to mention this today, but I’m leaving Clayton’s anyway.’

  His smile evaporated. ‘Leaving? But why, Leah? Aren’t you happy? I know Miss Jeffries is a bit of an old battle-axe, but she’s only trying to help with your training.’

  ‘She’s a frustrated old bitch and sick with jealousy.’

  Tom coughed. ‘Well, that’s probably true. But surely you can make allowances?’

  ‘Frankly, I don’t see why I should. I don’t want the job any more. I’m not being allowed to train properly, am I? You don’t give me the chance to go on my day release course. No, I don’t want the job, Tom. And, to be brutally honest, I don’t want our affair to continue either.’

  He reached across the table for her hand. ‘Leah, you’re upset. I don’t know why, but I’m sure it’s nothing I can’t put right. Look, let’s go.’

  ‘Go where?’

  He flushed. ‘Well, where we usually go.’

  ‘To bed, you mean? No, Tom. It’s all over. The whole thing was a dreadful mistake.’

  He glanced round the restaurant. ‘Please — keep your voice down. Look, let’s get out of here. Go somewhere where we can talk.’

  They left the restaurant in silence. Outside Leah made her way back to the car and stood waiting for Tom to unlock the passenger door. When they were both seated inside he turned to her.

  ‘You don’t mean what you said. Tell me what’s happened to upset you.’

  ‘I’m not upset, Tom. Just bored. Look, I wanted a job. You gave me one. You made it clear what you wanted in exchange and you got it. We’re quits. We owe each other nothing.’

  He flinched. ‘You make it sound so sordid. It wasn’t like that.’

  ‘Oh? Then what was it like?’

  ‘Have these Wednesday afternoons meant nothing to you?’

  ‘No more than they have to you. Only I’m honest about it. I feel the time has come for both of us to move on.’

  He flushed darkly and his eyes narrowed. ‘You scheming little whore!’

  ‘Thanks for that.’ She looked up at him. ‘I wasn’t going to mention this, Tom, but I overheard you talking to Hilary in the kitchen on the day of the barbecue.’

  He groaned and rubbed a hand over his beard. ‘So that’s what all this is about.’

  ‘No, Tom, you’re flattering yourself. It has nothing at all to do with my decision. That was already made. But if you were to persist in pestering me I’d have no choice but to tell her …’ She eyed him. ‘Or maybe Jack would find it more interesting.’ His eyes widened with surprise, but before he could react she opened the car door and stepped out. ‘I’ll get a bus back to Nenebridge. Goodbye, Tom.’

  *

  Kate was making jam when she arrived. Leah could smell the pungent aroma of hot sugar and plums as she walked down the path. She found it soothing and reassuring. As usual the old woman gave no sign of surprise at her arrival.

  ‘Hello, my old sugar. Be a duck and put the kettle on? Been standin’ over this ’ot stove all afternoon and I’m spittin’ feathers.’

  Leah made the tea and laid out cups, milk and sugar without a word, helping Kate to pour the hot jam into jars and tie on the waxed paper tops before they sat down. When they faced each other across the kitchen table Kate eyed her shrewdly.

  ‘Somethin’ up, lass?’

  Leah sighed, swallowing the lump that suddenly rose in her throat. ‘Oh, Gran,’ she said thickly, ‘I’ve done something really silly. I’ve been such an idiot.’

  Kate poured two cups of tea. ‘Only one thing a girl your age feels an idiot over, and that’s a man. Not that nice young Terry, I hope?’

  Leah shook her head.

  ‘Someone older then — married?’ Leah’s eyes affirmed her guess. ‘Don’t tell me it’s that lecherous Tom Clayton?’ Kate shook her head from side to side. ‘Oh, my dear Lord! I guessed as much when I saw the way he was eyein’ you up at that there barbecue affair.’ She reached for Leah’s hand across the table. ‘Come on, my woman, tell me the worst. Not pregnant, are you?’

  Leah looked up with a rueful grin. ‘Heavens, Gran, I’m not that kind of an idiot.’ She looked down at her hands. ‘And before we go any further, it was me who did all the seducing. I planned the whole thing. The mistake is all mine.’

  ‘Bet he didn’t need much seducin’, though.’ Kate sighed. ‘What happened then? You underestimated him, eh? Saw him makin’ sheep’s eyes and thought you could have him on toast. What’s the trouble then?’

  ‘It didn’t work as I meant it to. I want out.’ She sighed, ‘I wanted a job, you see. Anything so long as I could make some money and get away from here. Tom — well, he made it clear that he wanted me. It seemed so simple. We both kept the bargain. But now …’

  Kate groaned. ‘He’s holdin’ you to it — don’t want to let you go?’

  ‘Worse. He’s just asked me to be his consort, would you believe, when he comes to office next year.’

  Kate’s eyes opened wide. ‘He never. That’d set a few tongues waggin’.’

  ‘Apparently his wife wouldn’t mind. And he seems to think Jack and Hilary won’t either.’

  Kate snorted. ‘The man must need his head testing if he thinks he could get away with that.’

  But Leah knew different. Tom had thought it all through carefully. He planned to use her to get himself off the hook with Hilary. But Kate didn’t know about that particular little complication, and she wasn’t about to tell her. In any case, it wasn’t the point at issue.

  ‘I wish I hadn’t done it, Gran. I feel so cheap,’ she said quietly. ‘I thought I could use my — my sexuality to get what I wanted. But he turned it round against me.’

  Kate was shaking her head wisely. ‘They always do, lass, his type. If you weren’t so young you’d have known that. You got to get up early in the mornin’ to get one over on the likes of Tom Clayton. He i’nt as green as he’s cabbage-lookin’.’ She gave Leah’s hand a squeeze. ‘Never you mind, my sugar. Some nice young man’ll come along for you. You don’t want to worry.’

  ‘I’m not worried about that.’ Leah’s head came up defiantly. ‘It’s not romance I’m looking for. It’s some way of making myself independent. I want to make a life of my own. There’s no such thing as love anyway. It’s just something people bargain with. Men only really want you for what they can get. In future I want to be independent enough to choose who I bargain with, and tell all the rest to go to hell.’

  ‘No easy way to do that.’ Kate looked at her gravely for a long moment then said: ‘You know, you’re wrong about love, though I suppose I can’t blame you for thinkin’ the way you do. Love’s there if you look for it. Oh, you’ve got to earn it right enough. And maybe it is a kind of bargain too, in a way. But not the way you think, my sugar.’ She held out one clenched hand. ‘It’s like a handful of sand, see? Grab it too hard and the grains’ll slip through your fingers. You has to handle it gentle — hold it lightly and you’ll hold it safe.’ She brushed the imaginary sand from her hand and looked at Leah. ‘As for this ’ere sexuali
ty you spoke about — if you ask me it’s used too freely these days. A woman’s heart and body is something precious, to be guarded like a jewel and kept special for the right man. Not used for barterin’ or tossed away like some cheap old rubbish! No, my sugar. The right man when he comes’ll show you what love’s really like. It’s got nothin’ to do with bargains or barterin’. And it’s well worth waitin’ for.’

  Leah looked at the craggy face, grown suddenly soft and dreamy. Kate looked suddenly young again, her blue eyes faraway and the smile on her lips, gentle and unguarded. Her values might be old-fashioned but they had clearly worked for her. Leah gazed on the memory of deeply felt love on the old woman’s face — and envied her.

  *

  Hilary watched from the kitchen window as Jack put the car away in the garage. The moment she saw the expression on his face she knew something had upset him. The evening meal was ready to dish up and she went through into the lounge to pour out the gin and tonic he always liked to unwind with when he came home from the works. She paused to look up, the glass in her hand as he came through the door.

  ‘Hard day, darling?’

  He stood facing her, his face pink and his hands clenched in front of him, cracking his knuckles in the way that always made her wince.

  ‘Tom Clayton came to see me this afternoon,’ he said sharply. ‘I wonder if you know what about?’ Hilary’s heart seemed to freeze into a ball of ice inside her chest and she almost dropped the glass she was holding. ‘Tom?’ she said shakily.

  ‘Yes, Tom.’ Jack took the glass from her and took a deep draught from it, then walked through into the conservatory and stood staring out into the garden. Hilary followed anxiously. She waited for him to continue and when he didn’t, cleared her throat and asked apprehensively: ‘Well, what did he want?’

  Jack rounded on her, his eyes bulging and his face suffused with colour. ‘You might well ask. I tell you, Hilary, I can hardly bloody speak I’m so angry.’

  ‘With — with Tom?’ Her voice sounded unnaturally high and she cleared her throat again. Taking a sip from her own glass, she wished she’d had the presence of mind to add more gin.

  ‘With him, yes, the damned fool — though at least he was man enough to come and lay his cards on the table. What riles me is that I’ve housed a woman like that in my own house all these years …’ Suddenly he banged his glass down on the glass-topped table and strode through the lounge. Pulling the hall door open he shouted angrily: ‘Leah, come down here at once.’

  Hilary’s heart sank. Surely he wasn’t going to involve the girl — wasn’t going to humiliate her in front of their daughter? Her heart was hammering sickeningly and her mouth was dry as she stammered: ‘Jack, why bring Leah into it? For God’s sake, surely we can discuss this in a civilised way — what — whatever it is.’ Her nerves stretched to breaking point, she stared at him. ‘Well, are you going to tell me or aren’t you?’

  He walked back into the conservatory, picked up his glass and handed it to her. ‘Get me another of these — a large one. I’m saying nothing till the three of us are together.’

  Leah had been in the shower when Jack called. When she appeared she was wearing her bathrobe, her wet hair wrapped in a towel. She walked through to the conservatory on bare feet. ‘Did you call me?’

  ‘I most certainly did.’ Jack turned towards her. ‘Sit down. I’ve got something to say to you.’

  Leah looked from Jack to Hilary and back again. Later she reflected that they’d looked like a judge and jury, waiting to pronounce sentence.

  ‘Sit down,’ he repeated.

  Leah glanced at Hilary as she perched on the edge of one of the cane chairs. She saw the fear in the older woman’s eyes and at that moment knew that something serious had happened.

  ‘Tom Clayton came to see me this afternoon,’ Jack growled. ‘He came to confess a piece of madness he’d been led into and — and to beg my forgiveness.’

  Hilary bit her lip hard and shot him a beseeching look, but Jack didn’t even notice it as he ground on: ‘What he told me was so incredible — so bizarre — that I didn’t believe him at first. Perhaps you can guess what it was?’

  He stared accusingly at Leah, but she shook her head.

  ‘I’ve no idea.’

  ‘Then I’ll tell you. He claims that you offered him your favours in return for a job in his store. Is that correct?’

  Leah vaguely registered Hilary’s expression of shock mixed with relief before Jack went on: ‘It seems that you’ve been sneaking off to meet him on Wednesdays instead of attending college — spending the afternoons in some seedy hotel room. He also tells me that you’ve demanded extra money and that now you’re making more demands. Blackmailing him, in fact.’

  ‘That’s not true!’ Leah sprang to her feet but Jack silenced her with a look.

  ‘Before you attempt to wriggle out of this by telling more of your wicked lies, Tom has already warned me that you have some outrageous story ready — that you’ll stop at absolutely nothing to get yourself off the hook.’

  ‘All I wanted was to stop seeing him,’ Leah said. ‘I just want to be rid of him.’

  Hilary looked incredulously from one to the other. ‘You mean — it’s true?’ she whispered.

  Leah met her eyes. ‘Yes, some of it,’ she owned. ‘But he’s twisted it out of all proportion to save his own skin.’

  ‘How dare you?’ Jack thundered. ‘How dare you slander the name of one of my oldest friends? Tom Clayton is a respected member of the community. A businessman and a councillor. Oh, I know he’s been a damned fool, but I don’t have to look far for the person who made all the running, do I?’ He glared at Leah. ‘He’s been man enough to come and confess it all to me — admitted that he was wrong — begged my forgiveness. He was quite beside himself with remorse.’

  ‘I bet he was,’ Leah said defiantly. ‘Tom Clayton is nothing more than a dirty old man. He’s a sneak and a liar too. I told him today I was bored with him, if you want to know. This is his way of getting back at me.’ She looked at them. ‘And I’ll tell you something else — I’m not the only woman he’s been seeing.’

  ‘Stop it. Oh, my God, stop it! Unable to bear the strain any longer, Hilary got to her feet and rushed from the room, a handkerchief clasped to her mouth.

  ‘You see what you’ve done to your mother, you little slut?’ Jack bellowed as the door closed behind his sobbing wife.

  She met his angry bloodshot eyes levelly. ‘She’s not my mother,’ she said. ‘Any more than you’re my father. You’ve always hated me, both of you. I intend to find my own mother. And when I find her I’ll leave you and Tom Clayton and all the other pompous, boring people in Nenebridge to play your little power games. When I find my real mother you won’t see me for dust.’

  ‘And believe me, the day can’t come soon enough for me,’ Jack hissed at her. ‘Right from the first you’ve been trouble. I knew it when we first brought you home, but Hilary wanted you and no other child would do.’

  ‘Only because I looked like Fiona. She never wanted me for myself.’ Her chest and throat ached with the tears she refused to shed. ‘You never even tried to love me for myself — even when I was little. I’ve been less than nothing to you. A pale copy of the child you lost. Like a shadow — something that isn’t really there.’

  Jack laughed mirthlessly. ‘Oh, you’ve been there all right — more’s the pity. A bloody nuisance from day one, that’s what you’ve been. Flaunting yourself in your common clothes, embarrassing me in front of my colleagues. And now — now behaving like a prostitute with one of my oldest friends. You sicken me, girl. Go and find your “real mother” as you call her — if she’s free, that is. See if anyone wants you. I’ll be surprised if they do.’

  ‘If she’s free?’ She stared at him. ‘What do you mean, free?’

  ‘If she’s not back in prison for some other crime.’ Seeing her shocked expression he took a step towards her, his mouth twisted into a triumphant smile. ‘
I’ll even help you if you like. I’ll give you your birth certificate. The real one, not the shortened version. You’ll see from that just what your precious real mother was. Knowing you, I doubt very much if you’ll still want to find her after hearing that, but if you do, good luck to you both. I’m sure the pair of you richly deserve each other.’

  With a stifled sob, Leah ran past him, through to the hall and up the stairs. She didn’t believe it. She wouldn’t believe it. Her mother wasn’t a criminal. She couldn’t possibly be. She’d find her and show them — show them all.

  On the landing Hilary came out of her room and stood barring her way.

  ‘He — he says my mother was a criminal,’ Leah said. ‘He’s just being spiteful. It isn’t true, is it?’

  Hilary’s eyes were red with crying, her mouth distorted with bitterness. She didn’t reply to Leah’s pitiful question — didn’t speak at all. Just raised her hand and struck her a stinging blow across the cheek. Then she walked back into her room and slammed the door.

  *

  She was all packed. It hadn’t taken long because she had packed only the clothes she’d bought for herself with her own earnings. They filled one medium-sized suitcase. Now she stood looking round the room. She wouldn’t miss it. It had never felt like hers anyway. This house had never felt like home. On the dressing table was the birth certificate Jack had thrust into her hand, knocking on her door before he retired to bed. Some weeks ago she’d written off to apply for it. She’d wondered why it hadn’t come. Now she saw clearly that Jack must have intercepted it. It gave her mother’s name as Marie O’Connor and stated that her father was ‘unknown’. Her place of birth was down as the hospital wing of a remand home in East London. She had stared at it for a long time but finally had to admit that there was nothing more she could glean from it. Folding it carefully she put it into her handbag, then, propping the note she had written on the dressing table and slinging the strap of her bag on to her shoulder, she picked up the case and stood looking round the room for the last time.