The Long Way Home: A moving saga of lost family

by Whitmee, Jeanne

  ‘And you, child, have you been entirely fair to him? You haven’t been truthful with him about your past, have you? Maybe this is why God is punishing you.’ Father Jonathan had smiled blandly and patted her hand. ‘We all have our cross to bear, child. Your husband sounds a deeply unhappy man. Why don’t you confess to him everything you have told me? I’m sure that if you show him love and consideration, if you prove yourself a good wife and work a little harder at your marriage, your prayers will be answered.’ He looked at her. ‘Why have you never had more children? There’s nothing like a family to bind man and wife together.’

  ‘I wanted us to have children, Father,’ she told him, ‘but Ralph didn’t. He said they would interfere with the business.’

  ‘In my experience women have ways of dealing with that situation,’ he said, nodding with all the wisdom of the celibate priest. ‘You’re still quite a young woman. It could be your answer.’

  Marie had come away from the Presbytery that afternoon with a heavy heart. She had pinned all her hopes on the advice of the priest but she had failed totally to make him understand her situation. If he only knew Ralph, perhaps he would see how impossible it would be to mend their differences by telling him her secret. Far from making him treat her more kindly he would use the knowledge to torture her further; throwing it in her face on every possible opportunity. No, it seemed there would be no help for her from any quarter — certainly not from the church.

  *

  Christmas Day was busy. In the morning there was the traditional visit from Santa Claus for the children and later cocktails for the adults in the bar. Marie, Ralph and David played host at Christmas lunch and later there was organised entertainment of various kinds: a guided walk for the energetic, video films in the lounge; a puppet show with clowns for the children in the games room, followed by a special festive tea and presents from the Christmas tree. Later there was a more sophisticated candlelit meal for the adults, followed by dancing till one.

  Ralph behaved like the perfect host. He was charming to the women, courteous to the men and fatherly with the children. Watching him, Marie marvelled at his acting ability. He barely spoke to her or to his father and he had bought presents for neither of them, barely looking at the ones they had given him.

  Noticing that David looked tired, Marie had seen him up to the flat at half-past ten and waited until he was comfortably in bed with his book and a hot drink. When she went in to say goodnight to him he caught at her hand.

  ‘You’re very pale, love. Nothing worrying you, is there?’

  She smiled and shook her head. ‘It’s only the extra work and the excitement. It’s been well worth it though, hasn’t it?’

  He nodded. ‘You’ve done marvellously. It’s been a great Christmas. I’m sure they’ve all enjoyed it. You should have a holiday in the New Year though. Why not splash out and take yourself off somewhere nice and warm? Madeira perhaps. My treat. What do you say?’

  Marie shook her head. ‘I’m fine here with you. There’ll be the summer season to plan soon anyway.’ She bent and kissed his forehead. ‘Don’t you worry about me, David.’

  On her way down in the lift to join the revellers she thought wryly about his suggestion. A holiday in the sun would be wonderful — if only she could be confident that the business would stand it. Little did David know of the knife-edge their financial situation balanced on.

  In the small intimate ballroom the dance was in full swing. The lights were turned down low and the group they had engaged was playing a popular romantic ballad. She stood for a moment in the doorway, watching Ralph dancing with a young woman, the daughter of one of their regular family parties. He looked handsome in his dinner jacket, and perfectly relaxed as he laughed down into the girl’s eyes. Just for a moment she wondered if all their troubles could be due to her. Did she bring out the worst in him? Did she irritate him beyond endurance?

  Perhaps she made him as unhappy as he made her. It was a sobering thought.

  ‘So there you are. Haven’t had more than a fleeting glimpse of you all day.’

  She looked up to see Philip smiling at her. ‘Oh, I’m sorry if I’ve neglected you. It’s been a hectic day.’

  ‘Don’t apologise. I know what it must be like for you — on duty every minute. I’ve had a wonderful time. Delicious food and good company. Renewing old acquaintances. Everyone here is always so friendly.’ He held out his hand. ‘But surely you can relax a little now? Dance with me?’

  ‘I’d love to.’ She smiled and put her hand into his as they moved towards the floor.

  Philip was a good dancer and Marie found it easy and relaxing to match her steps to his on the small dance floor.

  ‘Your husband seems to be in a good mood,’ he said, looking over her shoulder to where Ralph shared a joke with his partner on the other side of the room.

  ‘Oh — yes, he is.’

  ‘David all right?’

  ‘He’s fine, just a little tired. I saw him to bed with a hot drink a little while ago.’

  Philip looked down at her. ‘Marie, you’re looking so pale and worried. Is something wrong? Won’t you let me help?’

  She shook her head. ‘There’s nothing you or anyone else can do, Philip,’ she said quietly. ‘I only wish it was that simple.’ She made herself smile up at him. ‘It’s Christmas. Let’s forget it all for now, shall we?’

  *

  Leah had put Sally to sleep in Terry’s room. It didn’t take long to make up the bed and slip a hot water bottle between the sheets. Bill took himself rather moodily off to bed and Leah made cocoa in the kitchen where the two girls sat sipping it beside the Aga. Slowly, inch by inch, Sally began to relax.

  ‘I hope it wasn’t inconvenient,’ she ventured. ‘Dropping in on you like this. I haven’t offended your — er — landlord, have I?’

  ‘Bill?’ Leah laughed. ‘No. He’s a dear really. I had already asked his permission to invite you to come for Christmas and he seemed to like the idea.’

  ‘But I’d refused your invitation,’ Sally said. ‘And out there — when I turned up unexpectedly, you and he …’

  ‘We’d been out to dinner and he’d had a few drinks,’ Leah said lightly. ‘I don’t suppose he’ll remember a thing about it in the morning.’ She regarded Sally thoughtfully. ‘Do you mind if I ask you what made you change your mind?’

  Sally drained her cup before answering. ‘I might as well be honest with you. I was lonely. I’d looked forward to the shop closing, to having four days to myself. But then, when I got home — to an empty house. Everyone had gone away for Christmas, you see. It was so silent, so cold and empty. All at once I felt …’

  ‘Homesick?’

  Sally looked up, her eyes bright. ‘Do you get homesick too?’

  Leah shook her head. ‘Nothing to feel homesick for. My adoptive parents always gave me lavish presents. But Christmas was never really a homely family affair. Jack and Hilary were always too busy social climbing. It was one long round of smart parties, each one trying to out-do the others.’

  ‘We used to have a lot of fun at Christmas,’ Sally said wistfully. ‘There was the Christingle carol service at Chapel, the Youth Club party, then we always spent Boxing Day with my Auntie Jean and my four cousins.’

  ‘That sounds nice.’ Leah tried to picture the cosy family party. ‘When I was younger I usually got left with a baby sitter. If anything it was probably better fun in the children’s home than at the Dobsons’ — apart from Granny Dobson. She was the best thing about being adopted. But then, they didn’t really want her either. We were two of a kind.’ She glanced at Sally, remembering Marie’s letter. ‘Sally, have you ever thought about trying to find your — our — natural mother?’

  The other girl shook her head. ‘One mother per lifetime is quite enough for me, thank you. Besides, there doesn’t seem to be much point after all this time, does there?’

  Leah looked at the other girl’s pale, tired face and decided to drop the subject. �
��It’s very late. Would you like to go up to bed now?’

  ‘I would rather.’ Sally held out her hand. ‘Leah, I’m sorry — about the other time, I mean. We got off to a bad start. I understand how you feel about the baby. It’s just that I can’t keep it. I’d never manage, and anyway it would always remind me. I just want to …’

  Leah took her hand and squeezed it. ‘Please, don’t — it’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have said what I did. It’s late now. Maybe we’ll talk tomorrow.’ She smiled suddenly. ‘Do you know, I’ve just realised something. This is the very first Christmas that I’ve ever spent with a member of my own family. That has to make it special, doesn’t it?’

  *

  Bill had quite recovered his good nature by morning. He and Leah exchanged the small presents they had bought for each other and she wrapped up a bottle of perfume she had treated herself to and gave it to Sally. As she opened the little package the girl’s eyes were misty.

  ‘Oh. I wasn’t expecting this,’ she said. ‘I haven’t got you anything. I feel awful.’

  ‘Well, don’t,’ Leah said as she whisked away the breakfast dishes. ‘You brought yourself, after all. That was the best present I could have had. Tell you what, though, you can be my kitchen maid for the morning. That’ll let Bill off the hook. I know he’s dying to go off to the local and drink himself legless with all his mates.’

  ‘Don’t you believe it. That’s just a nice way of telling me to get lost,’ he said in Sally’s ear as he passed. But when she looked up at him with anxious eyes she saw that he was smiling. ‘You can come again, Sally,’ he told her. ‘I warn you, this long lost sister of yours is a positive slave driver when she’s in the kitchen. You don’t know what you’ve let yourself in for.’

  The two of them worked happily together and when everything was under control Sally asked if she could lay the table.

  Leah smiled. ‘Please do. You’ll find the table cloths in the dresser drawer.’

  ‘Isn’t there anything more festive than these seersuckers?’ Sally asked after a few minutes’ searching.

  Leah turned thoughtfully. ‘I don’t know. You could have a look in the linen cupboard on the landing. I think I’ve seen some table linen stored away in there. Have a good rummage. Bill won’t mind.’

  Sally was gone for quite a long time, but she finally reappeared carrying a long lace curtain, a crimson satin bedspread and a reel of red ribbon. When the white lace was laid over the red satin the effect was quite stunning. Leah gasped.

  ‘What a clever idea.’ She watched as Sally proceeded to gather up the edges of the lace at intervals, threading the red ribbon through and tying it in bows. Then she took three of the white chrysanthemums from the vase on the dresser, and, with the rest of the ribbon and a few pieces of ivy taken from the back yard wall, proceeded to make an effective little table arrangement. Leah’s eyes were round with admiration.

  ‘Hey, that’s brilliant,’ she said delightedly. ‘Wait till Bill sees it.’

  Sally looked doubtfully at the willow pattern plates Leah had put to warm beside the Aga. ‘Isn’t there any other china?’

  Leah grinned, urged on by Sally’s creativeness. ‘Let’s have a look. I’m sure there must be something more up-market somewhere.’ Searching in the dresser cupboards together, they found an elegant white and gold Victorian dinner service stacked away at the back. It was incomplete, but there were more than enough dishes for the three of them. The vegetable tureens with their delicately scrolled handles and domed lids looked just right on the crimson and white cloth.

  Leah stood back to admire her sister’s work. ‘It looks wonderful. We wouldn’t have had anything as grand as this if it hadn’t been for you.’

  ‘It’s my job,’ Sally said. ‘It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. The only thing I’m any good at. At the shop where I work now I’m not much more than a counter assistant, but once I’ve had the — when I’m free again, I mean to get something better. Maybe one day I’ll even start a business of my own.’

  Bill came back from the pub ravenous and waving a bottle of beaujolais. ‘Got this at the pub. Find me the corkscrew, Leah.’ He put down the bottle and rubbed his hands together. ‘God, it’s cold,’ he said as he shrugged off his jacket. Then he caught sight of the festive table and stopped short. ‘Wow! Get that. If I’d known you were planning something on this scale, I’d have changed into something more formal.’

  Leah beamed. ‘Great, isn’t it? You can thank Sally. She did it all, out of nothing too.’

  ‘It’s brilliant.’ Bill walked round the table examining everything. ‘Maybe we should have eaten in the dining room upstairs,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, no.’ Leah put the steaming golden-brown turkey in the centre of the table. ‘It’s much more cosy and homely down here.’

  Bill sat down at the table, fingering the lace cloth thoughtfully. ‘You’re a very talented pair, aren’t you? When you start your mobile catering service, Leah, Sally here could do the table decorations or whatever you call them.’ He looked in anticipation at the succulent white slices of turkey that Leah was expertly carving. ‘That looks and smells wonderful.’ He uncorked the wine and began to pour. Suddenly he jumped up from the table. ‘We can’t let this occasion go by without a photograph,’ he said. ‘Where’s my trusty polaroid?’ He took the camera from its case. ‘Move in together. That’s right.’ The camera buzzed as the picture emerged. ‘There, recorded for posterity.’ He propped the photograph up on the dresser and returned to pouring the wine.

  ‘What’s this mobile catering service you mentioned?’ Sally asked.

  ‘It’s just Bill’s pipe dream,’ Leah told her. ‘Something he’s planning for his old age.’

  ‘Not at all,’ Bill said with his mouth full. ‘The Italian restaurant where Leah’s been working has just closed, which leaves her unemployed. She’s a great little cook and she’s got a real flair for catering. Now that she’s had some experience I’ve suggested that she might start hiring herself out — dinner parties, buffets, that kind of thing.’

  ‘What a good idea.’ Sally looked enquiringly at Leah. ‘Don’t you fancy it?’

  She shook her head. ‘It isn’t as simple as it sounds. There’d be all kinds of snags — least of which is the fact that I don’t have the kind of money to get a project like that off the ground.’

  Bill sighed. ‘I’ve told you, I’ll …’

  ‘Bill.’ Leah put down her knife and fork and shot him a warning look. ‘Please. Not now. It’s Christmas Day.’

  ‘Okay, if you say so.’ He held up his hands in surrender. ‘But I still think it’s a damned good idea.’ After they had washed up Leah made a pot of coffee and they carried the tray upstairs to the living room and sat talking. At least Bill and Leah talked. Sally felt silent and after a while asked Leah quietly if anyone would object to her going upstairs for a nap.

  ‘Of course. Please do,’ Leah said. ‘Take advantage of all the rest you can get.’

  Sally stood up, one hand in the small of her back. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind? I feel so rude and unsociable.’

  ‘Off you go,’ Bill instructed. ‘Tell you what, I’ll wake you about six with a cup of tea, then we’ll all watch the telly like a really boring family. How’s that?’

  Sally smiled. ‘You’re very kind.’

  After she had gone Leah was thoughtful. Three strangers, she told herself pensively. We’re three misfits making the best of things. All of us would probably rather be somewhere else if we had the choice. Or at least in the company of someone else. Bill would like to be with Janet, his wife, even if he won’t admit it. Sally would clearly like to be with her parents. And I … She stifled a sigh, refusing to admit to herself how much she missed Terry. Deep inside an illogical voice insisted that as long as she didn’t acknowledge what he had come to mean to her it couldn’t hurt.

  Bill dozed off in his chair, the effects of a morning’s drinking followed by a heavy lunch. Leah watched him for a wh
ile, then wandered up to her room, combed her hair and renewed her make-up. She was on the landing and about to go down again when she thought she heard a faint sound. She stopped, inclining her head to listen. It came again, unmistakably this time — a muffled groan. Crossing the landing she pushed open the door of Terry’s room and peered across the darkening room towards the bed.

  ‘Sally, are you all right?’ Reaching out, she found the switch and the next moment the room was flooded with light. Sally sat couched at the top of the bed, her back against the headboard and her knees drawn up to her chin. One clenched fist was pressed against her mouth and her face was deathly white. Leah’s heart missed a beat.

  ‘Sally! My God, what is it?’

  ‘A pain — a bad pain — in my back.’ Sally spoke with difficulty. ‘It’s been coming and going all afternoon. I thought it must be indigestion. I thought if I lay down it would go but … Leah, I’m sorry but I think — I’m afraid it might be — the — baby.’

  Leah sat on the bed and took her hand. ‘But surely it can’t be? It’s not time yet, is it? I mean, when’s it supposed to be due?’

  ‘Not for six weeks yet.’ Tears began to fill Sally’s huge frightened eyes and run down her cheeks. ‘What do you think I should do?’

  Although she tried to hide it, Leah was frightened too. She hadn’t the slightest idea about childbirth — what it entailed or what one was supposed to do. It was Christmas Day. Suppose there were no ambulances? Suppose she couldn’t find a doctor in time? Sally looked so ill, so racked with pain. Suppose it were to be born here with no medical help? Suppose they both died because of her ignorance? Swallowing the panic that pounded in her chest, she commanded herself: Calm down. She needs you. She’s your sister and she’s relying on you. The thought seemed to give her strength and confidence. Never in her life had anyone actually needed her before. Smiling, she laid cool fingers against Sally’s cheek: