by Ashe Barker
Impossible. How could that be? I stop, stand still in the hallway and listen. Yes. That’s Lucy. Definitely, her deep, slightly rough tone saying, “Yes please.” Then she laughs.
I creep forward toward the door, push it gently to reveal more of the room.
If Dan had deliberately stage managed this, he could not have created a better setting. The tableau before me is one of utterly perfect domestic bliss. Black Combe is normally a happy, relaxed place—I love the atmosphere here—but this is taking it to another level entirely. Sally MacDonald is sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of tea raised to her mouth. Maisie is seated to her left and Lucy on her right. Grace is standing beside them, a plate of scones in her hand. Nathan is in the chair opposite, baby Isabella standing on his lap and clutching at his face with her chubby fingers. Eva is also at the table, pouring tea. Even Barney is playing his part, snoring with absolute disinterest beside the Aga.
Dan is lounging next to Nathan, Rosie on his lap, showing him something in an exercise book, her homework or some school project. He glances up from the book, says something in response to a question from Maisie, who smiles and bites into her chocolate brownie.
I’m astonished. Maisie never smiles, and definitely not at strange men. Like me, she learned from an early age not to do that. Dan speaks to her again and her face lights up.
“Can I hold her?” Lucy is looking directly at Nathan.
He shoots a glance at Sally, who nods.
“She’ll be careful, won’t you, Lucy? Babies are fragile.”
“I know that. I’m not stupid.” Lucy sounds indignant now, her smile fading at the social worker’s words.
“That you aren’t. Right then.” Nathan stands, carries Isabella around and places her on Lucy’s lap.
Lucy folds her arms carefully around the baby, beaming at everyone. “She likes me. Look, Summer, she likes me.” Lucy is looking directly at me and blows my cover entirely.
All eyes turn to me. I’m frozen in the doorway, watching, holding my breath. Of all the scenes I imagined, all the ways I thought…hoped this might go, I never dreamed of this. The Darkes have pulled out all the stops for me, and for my fractured family. Tears are pricking my eyes as I survey the relaxed group, the group where my sisters seem to have just slipped into place.
Dan stands. “Ah, here she is. Come and sit down, love. Sally made good time, got here about ten minutes ago. Do you want some more tea?” He maneuvers me into the chair he just vacated, and a fresh cup of tea appears in front of me.
No one seems in any hurry to decamp and go over to my flat, so I have a few moments to gather my wits. Not that there’s any immediate prospect of that. Lucy and Maisie are full of questions and ready to pass judgment on their new surroundings.
“Do you really live here?”
“Can we go for a walk later?”
“Is that really a dog?”
“I- I…” I’m quite lost for words, but in the general hubbub no one seems to notice.
Dan covers smoothly enough. “Yes, it’s a dog. Trust me on this. I’m a vet. Summer has a flat, just over there.” He gestures in the right general direction. “She’s looking forward to showing you it. She works here, though, in the house, and you’d be able to come across here whenever you want. Isn’t that right?”
“Course it is. You can come after school, for tea.” Grace lends her support, clearly delighted at the prospect of more hungry mouths to bake for.
Rosie chips in, “We have pizza every Tuesday. That’s my favorite. I like going for walks. Have you ever seen a waterfall? There’s one near here.” Rosie is particularly taken with The Brontë Falls, a local beauty spot.
“I’ve seen loads. I like waterfalls. We can’t go yet, though. We haven’t finished our tea and we need to look at our new bedrooms.” Lucy seems enthusiastic enough at the suggestion, and Rosie beams.
“Next time you come, when you stay for the weekend. We’ll go then. We can all go.” She looks around the table hopefully.
“Right, that sounds like a plan. A family hike to the waterfall.” Nathan settles the matter, turning his most dazzling smile on Maisie and Lucy. “You two need to make sure you bring wellies if you have them. Or we could find you some around here, I expect. Is she getting heavy now?”
Lucy nods and Nathan stands, retrieves Isabella. Her hands free at last, Lucy tucks in to her cake.
Sally leans over toward me. “Maybe now would be a good time for you and me to have a chat? While these two are occupied. Would that be all right?” Her last question is directed at Grace, who Sally seems to have rightly identified as the arbiter of all things domestic here.
“Yes, yes, you two go over and Summer can show you round the flat. We’ll follow you, when the girls are done eating. Won’t we, ladies?”
Maisie and Lucy seem content with that. I stand, only to be grabbed in a bear hug by Lucy, who has abandoned her cake in order to give me what she considers a proper greeting at last.
“I like it here.” She squeezes me even tighter.
I pat her feebly on the back, just managing to breathe. “I’m glad. I like you being here.” I splutter the words into her hair before I pull away.
She releases me, gives me another of her brightest smiles before filling her mouth with cake again.
Sally and I stroll slowly across the gravel toward the garage outbuilding. I lead the way around the side to the private entrance to my flat on the upper floor. Sally follows me up the stairs and into my living room. Even to my ultra-critical eye, the place looks pristine. I’m proud of it as I watch Sally cast her eyes over my domain.
“Well?” I have to ask, can’t contain myself.
“It’s very nice. Is it always so tidy?” Sally looks odd, somehow slightly less than totally impressed.
“Well, I like to keep things neat.”
“Children aren’t neat. Especially teens. They tend to make a mess.”
The penny drops. My fixation about orderliness, my compulsive tidying is going to ruin this for me. I should have known I wouldn’t be able to fool the worldly wise, experienced Sally MacDonald into thinking I’m even close to normal. She can spot the signs a mile away.
“So do I. But Summer puts up with me. I think we’ll cope.” I never heard Dan coming up the stairs, but I’m delighted to see him. He’s always there when I need him, it seems, ready to dig me out of my hole.
Sally turns to him. “I see. And, do you live here too, Mr Riche? In the flat?”
Dan smiles, shakes his head. “No. I work in Cumbria, so I live there. I’m here regularly, though.”
“I see. And are you two…?” Sally hesitates, waits for one of us to fill the gap.
“We are. I love Summer.” Dan loops an arm across my shoulders, gives me a quick, reassuring hug. “To cut to the chase, I’m here a couple of nights a week. I sleep here, with Summer.”
“I see. Thank you, Mr Riche. As you’ll be in close contact with Lucy and Maisie, I’d need you to agree to a DBS check. That’s the Disclosure and Barring Service. It checks for criminal convictions. We insist, I’m afraid. It’s a part of our child protection and safeguarding requirement.”
Dan shrugs, unconcerned. “No problem. I work at an animal park so I already have DBS clearance. I’ll send you the documentation. Eva does too. She’s a professor at the university, in Leeds. Not sure about Grace and Nathan. Maybe you could send us the forms.
“Of course, I’ll get that sorted first thing Monday.” She pulls a small notepad from her bag and jots down a few words. “And you’ve already alleviated my main concern. I was worried that you’d be isolated, Summer, trying to care for the girls on your own. It’s clear you’ll have support, friends around you to help out sometimes.”
“Yes, yes I will.” I say the words, hardly daring to believe how well this is suddenly going. “And, I have a good salary. I can afford to buy everything they need.”
“You won’t need to. Well, not everything. Although they’d be living here, t
he girls will technically still be in our care, so you’ll have a foster parent’s allowance to help with costs. Have you had any thoughts on schools for them?”
Now this is something I have followed up. “Well, they’ll be at the same school, in year seven. I’ve contacted the secondary school serving this area. Nathan says it’s quite good. Rosie’ll be going there next year. I don’t know if they have spare places yet, though. I’m still waiting for them to get back to me.”
Sally nods. “They will. Looked after children get priority. Which school is it? I’ll get in touch with their designated member of staff for LACs and sort it out. We’ll need a teaching assistant for Lucy too, at least at first.”
Sally makes more notes. She’ll be busy on Monday morning. I’m not entirely happy to learn that my sisters will remain ‘in care’ even after they move in with me, but there’s no denying the advantages of Sally’s support.
“You’ll need to register with a GP practice, dentist, that sort of thing. If you run into any snags, I’ll be on the end of a phone. Now, if I could just see where the girls will be sleeping…?
“Of course.”
Lucy and Maisie choose that moment to clatter up the stairs, accompanied by Rosie and Barney, so we troop round the spare bedrooms together. Lucy chooses the room overlooking the graveled courtyard and with a view of the main house. Maisie prefers the moorland scenery on the other side of the flat. Everyone’s content, though, and matters are settled to my absolute and total satisfaction. Lucy and Maisie will be coming back next weekend, on Friday evening and can stay until Sunday afternoon. When they return after that, it’ll be permanent.
The three girls and Barney clatter off back down the stairs to check out the rest of the property. I get the impression they’re going to get on well together. I take the opportunity to ask Sally about something that’s been on my mind.
“What if my mother objects to them coming here? Can she stop this?”
Sally shakes her head. “She won’t. I spoke to her yesterday. I have to keep her informed. You understand that?”
I nod, waiting.
Sally continues. “Mrs Jones is happy for the girls to come here, to live with you. She knows she’ll be inside for at least a couple of years, and I just think she wants what’s best for them now. And, she asked me to pass on a message…”
“Oh?” I’m surprised, though perhaps I shouldn’t be. My mother always wants something from me.
“She asked if you’d visit her. She seems to think you might not want to.”
“I don’t.” My response is too quick, too definite.
Sally looks surprised. Dan doesn’t. He reaches for my hand.
“Well, that’s up to you. I told her I’d pass on the message. Maybe you could think about it.”
“Maybe.” I give the non-committal response, but privately I never want to set eyes on my mother again. And, for the next few years at least, I don’t have to.
Epilogue
Eight months later
The drive has passed uneventfully—no road works, no slow moving tractors towing piles of hay. I’ve made good time and hit the outskirts of Kendal just before seven o’clock. Dan should be waiting, unless he’s had a sudden call out, but he usually texts if that happens.
He moved here five months ago, having persuaded Freya to lease the apartment to him for a couple of years. It’s much more convenient for both the animal park and the racecourse. I sometimes wish he lived nearer, but he gets down to Black Combe once a week, sometimes more. He spends most weekends with us, but sometimes, when he’s on call, and has to stay in Cumbria, I come up here.
Lucy and Maisie will be staying at Black Combe tonight and tomorrow night. They sleep in what used to be Dan’s room, and I gather a sleepover at Rosie’s will entail a midnight feast and early morning raid on Grace’s larder before they head off up onto the moors. For a pair of townies, they’ve adapted to the countryside with no problem at all. They love it, especially Maisie.
I always knew Maisie was a bright little thing, but she’s positively blossoming now. She’s doing so well at school, and they’ve even written to me to say she’s on their register of highly able children. I had no idea what to do about that—what it might mean—but Eva did. She spoke to the school and has spent a lot of time tutoring Maisie to help develop her skills. Maisie’s a mathematician, like Eva. She may have other talents too, but they haven’t surfaced yet.
We discussed a special school for gifted children, like the one Eva went to, but decided another move wouldn’t be in Maisie’s best interests. Sally thinks so too. Maisie’s settled here. She’s happy, secure and safe. That counts for a lot. And with Eva to help, she’ll do well. Despite the age difference, Lucy and Rosie are close friends. Maisie is so immersed in her studies that she’s slightly on the outside but she doesn’t seem to care. Maisie joins in occasionally, but it’s mostly Rosie, Lucy and Barney who roam the moors. Sometimes Ashley joins them, baby Luke in a papoose style sling strapped to her front. I doubt she’ll be able to manage that as he grows, but for now, when he’s so tiny, it works.
The biggest surprise, though, in my view, is Lucy and Nathan. Ever since that first day when he let her hold Isabella, Lucy has adored him. Along with Rosie, she follows him about, always under his feet but he never seems to lose patience, never fobs her off. He has a way with her, friendly, trusting. He doesn’t patronize her. He answers her questions, encourages her. Nathan always includes Lucy in the activities he used to do with just Rosie, then with Eva too. They go swimming, ice skating, ten pin bowling.
Lucy always watches for Nathan coming home from his office. Her bedroom window overlooks the drive into the house and she waits there, listening for his engine. By the time his Porsche purrs into the courtyard, she’ll be down by the garage door waiting, ready to throw her arms around him in one of her customary greetings. One day she missed him. He was early, and she was in the shower. I called to her, but she had to get dressed. It took a full five minutes before she charged down the stairs, hair still dripping wet and bedraggled, her shirt buttoned up all wrong. She hurled herself outside and ran around to the garage door. I followed, knowing that she’d missed him and she’d be disappointed. She could still follow him across to Black Combe, could still take her usual place at the kitchen table and chew on home-made biscuits. But greeting Nathan is a ritual for her, it’s important. She would be upset at having got it wrong, even if it wasn’t her fault.
I rounded the corner to be greeted by the sight of Lucy, hugging Nathan and chattering about being late. He’d waited for her. He must have. He knew too, knew how upset she’d be and so he’d waited.
Now, as I pull up in the guest space in the underground parking area and turn off the engine, I’m excited. Life’s good, and promising to get even better in the next few minutes. Dan’s here, his motorbike is in his usual spot.
I haven’t seen Dan for several days. And even though he gets to Yorkshire when he can, whenever he’s at my place, we’re both conscious of the girls sleeping in the other bedrooms. Dan does gag me sometimes, and I’ve become better at keeping quiet. But it will be good to be alone, just the two of us, for the whole weekend. I hug my middle as the lift ascends, my pussy becoming damp at the prospect of a sexy couple of days with Dan, his selection of floggers and assorted toys.
I exit the lift and let myself into the apartment. I never did give back my key and it does come in useful now. I lug my holdall along the hallway and call out to Dan.
“It’s me…” I call out.
“In here.” Dan’s voice is coming from the living room so I head there. And come to a grinding halt when I enter. He’s not alone. A familiar face glances up at me from the sofa, that smile I never forgot.
I stand, rooted to the spot, bewildered. Is it? How can it be? Here?
“Connor?” I whisper the word, convinced I’m mistaken somehow, that my eyes are playing tricks. How can he be here, in Kendal? With Dan?
My brother’s in Af
ghanistan, fighting the Taliban. He doesn’t know Dan, doesn’t even know about him. I don’t think I’ve ever told Dan I have a brother either. It never came up. He can’t be here. Can he? I take a hesitant step forward, still not sure what’s happening.
“Hey, little sister. Looking good.” Connor stands and opens his arms, and that’s proof enough.
I fly across the room and hurl myself at him, sobbing into his shoulder as he lifts me off my feet. He pats my back helplessly as I cling to him.
“Hey, kid, why the tears? Anyone would think you weren’t pleased to see me.” That glorious, beloved voice. That voice from my childhood, that voice that means safety, security, a warm meal and a ride home from school.
I hang on tighter, quite unable to form a coherent thought, let alone a reply. And Connor gives up trying. He sinks back onto Freya’s sofa, taking me with him.
Ten, maybe fifteen, minutes pass before I manage to come anywhere close to phrasing a sensible question.
“What are you doing here?” Well, seems sensible to me.
“I’m looking for you, isn’t it obvious?” He mutters the response into my hair as I’m still snuggled up against his chest, his tone less grumpy that the actual words.
“But, why here? I mean, how…? What about the army?”
“Well they’re not all looking for you, if that’s what you mean.”
I punch him in the chest. “Don’t take the piss. I mean, why aren’t you there? In Camp Bastion or wherever?”
“Wherever. I stood my watch. Now I’m home. And the first thing I wanted to do was look up my little sister.”
“How long do you have? When are you going back?” I wipe the tears from my face with the back of my hand. At least I’ve stopped sniveling like a baby.
“Well, that’s a long story. The bottom line, though, is I’m not.”
