by Annie Lyons
‘We should prick our fingers and become blood sisters,’ Bea had slurred after the carving was done.
‘We are blood sisters,’ said Lizzie. She wasn’t drunk like her sister, although Bea had sneaked her a couple of vodkas with lemonade. Bea had snorted with laughter and pulled her sister in close.
‘I love you, Lizzie Lou, and I’ll always look after you. Like a sister.’ Bea had laughed again at the feeble joke.
Lizzie grinned at the memory lifted her wine glass now. ‘Here’s to you, sis. Happy birthday,’ she said. There was a time when Lizzie would have had to choke back tears at these words but sitting here, in the winter sunshine, remembering her sister, she felt a sense of well-being. She would finish her drink, maybe have a wander around the town and then head home. She might see if Susie fancied a trip to the cinema that evening or maybe she would be daring and ask Ben if he wanted to move their date forwards to tonight. She closed her eyes and let the moment wash over her.
‘Lizzie?’ said a voice next to her.
She came to with a jolt and opened her eyes to find herself looking up into the face of Alex Chambers.
He smiled warmly. ‘I thought it was you. I spotted you through the window.’
Damn, she thought. So much for being anonymous.
He looked around at the surroundings. ‘I don’t think I’ve been in this pub since I was a teenager,’ he declared.
You and me both, thought Lizzie.
‘So?’ The question hung there for a while, like a worm wriggling on a fishing-line. Lizzie didn’t want to take the bait. She had been enjoying sitting alone, remembering Bea. She just wanted him to leave. ‘To what do we owe the pleasure?’ he asked.
Even the tone of his question annoyed her. His very presence annoyed her. He was so confident, too confident. How dare he? After all he had put her through. How dare he try out his easy charm on her? Poisonous anger bubbled up, threatening to boil out of her. She wouldn’t let him ruin her day; wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. ‘I was toasting my sister,’ she said, trying to keep her voice as even as possible. ‘It would have been her birthday today.’
She was annoyed at how childish this sounded but it seemed to have a profound effect on Alex. ‘Of course. I didn’t mean to intrude. I’m sorry.’
She thought he would leave then but he lingered. She looked up at him, barely masking her impatience. ‘Well don’t let me keep you,’ she said coldly hoping this would dismiss him from her presence.
He gazed at her as if searching for an answer. ‘May I ask you something?’ he said finally.
She sighed. ‘If you must.’
Much to her disappointment, he took this as an invitation to sit down. She tried to avoid his gaze as he spoke. ‘Forgive me,’ he said. ‘But you’ve been so cold on the last few occasions I’ve seen you. I put it down to grief at first but today it just seems as if you’re angry with me. Have I done something to upset you?’
Lizzie jerked her head round to face him. She couldn’t stop the rage from boiling over now. ‘What do you think, Alex?’ She almost spat the words and he looked astonished, his cool demeanour disappearing.
He grasped his hands together. ‘Look Lizzie, I’m sorry about what happened between us but we were just kids. It didn’t mean anything.’
Lizzie gave him a look of pure vitriol. ‘You heartless shit! You ruined my life. How can you sit there and say it meant nothing?’
Alex grew pale, his eyes studying her face as he desperately searched for the right thing to say. ‘I’m sorry. I had no idea. We were young. I didn’t mean to break your heart.’
She looked at him scornfully. ‘Do you honestly think that’s why I’m angry? I don’t give a toss about breaking up with you.’ He looked confused and Lizzie’s mind began to race with questions. ‘Why do you think I left?’
Alex gave a small shrug. ‘Bea said you fell out with your mum and wanted to leave. She told me that you didn’t want to see me again.’
‘Didn’t you read my letter?’ asked Lizzie. She was experiencing a sensation as if she were falling through the air, unable to stop herself.
‘What letter?’
Something in the back of Lizzie’s mind began to crumble; something that she had always assumed to be as solid as stone.
Alex clearly had no idea what she was talking about. He was staring at her now, looking for answers. Looking for answers. We’re all looking for answers, she thought. ‘Lizzie?’ he implored. ‘What letter are you talking about?’
Lizzie felt her hand reach to the place on the settle under which Bea and she had carved their initials. I’ll always look after you. Lizzie thought about brushing off Alex, leaving the pub and driving back home, away from the past. She didn’t need to delve into this. Happiness was within her reach. Why spoil it now? But you couldn’t un-know something; you couldn’t ignore a nugget of truth. At least Lizzie couldn’t do that any more. She’d spent so long running away from truths; she didn’t want to run any more. The truth will find you one day anyway and demand to be faced. She took a deep breath. ‘I gave Bea a letter to pass on to you the night I left,’ she said. Alex was leaning in closely, trying to read her mind, his deep blue eyes boring into her. She locked onto this gaze. ‘I was pregnant.’
He fell back in his seat as if he’d been shot; all the charm and confidence gone. ‘I had no idea,’ he whispered. ‘A baby? So is there a – ’
‘I lost it,’ said Lizzie in a small voice. ‘I lost the baby.’ She felt tears form in her eyes as she said this. She had never actually uttered it out loud before and she was surprised at how quickly simmering anger could give way to desolate grief.
‘Oh Lizzie, I had no idea– ’ said Alex reaching for her hands.
At his touch, panic coursed through her body. This didn’t feel right. She cast around her. She shouldn’t be here. It was too much. The whole thing was too much. It was much more than telling Alex about the baby, it was Bea’s part in keeping the secret from him that disturbed her most. She couldn’t understand why Bea would have done that to her and she knew she wasn’t going to find the answer sitting here with Alex. She could see that he was upset and confused by the revelation but she didn’t have room in her head for this. She had to get away.
She let go of his hands and rose to her feet. ‘I have to go,’ she said with quiet determination.
He stood up, looking at her pleadingly. ‘Don’t go. We need to talk. Please, Lizzie. ’ he begged.
She looked past him towards the door. ‘I have to go,’ she repeated. He collapsed back into the chair, holding his head in his hands. Lizzie left the pub as if in a trance. She walked back to her car and started the engine without even realising what she was doing. She felt numb. She had to get out of Smallchurch, back to somewhere she felt safe. As she drove out of the town, the same thought echoed through her head. It was familiar and it comforted her. Run away Lizzie, run away and don’t look back, it said.
Chapter Thirteen
The Following Day
Lizzie sat up with a jolt, woken by a bad dream, the details of which she couldn’t quite recall. She felt sticky with sweat and her heart was thumping loudly in her ears. As she came to, she remembered the events of yesterday and fell back against the pillow, longing for sleep. Unfortunately, her brain seemed unwilling to co-operate with her body and she couldn’t stop the stream of questions about her sister racing through her mind.
She kept wondering why Bea hadn’t delivered her letter. Perhaps she’d forgotten or lost it but that wasn’t plausible. Bea never forgot anything. Maybe Alex was lying but this didn’t add up either. If he had been able to sit in front of her and lie so convincingly, he should give up his job as church organist immediately and become an actor. Besides, the way he reacted when she told him about the baby had been genuine and heartfelt, Lizzie knew he wasn’t pretending. So where did that leave her? The fact remained that Bea hadn’t delivered Lizzie’s letter, which meant that Alex hadn’t known about the baby and Lizzie had be
en denied the chance to discuss it with him. Who knows what might have happened if he’d known? He might have supported her, the baby might have lived. Her life could have been very different. For all those years, Lizzie had assumed that Alex didn’t care and Bea had done nothing to contradict this. Lizzie wracked her brain to fathom why. She didn’t want to think badly of her sister; she wanted to find a plausible reason for her actions. The only possible explanation was that Bea had thought that she was protecting her sister by not telling Alex. She supposed they would have told him if the baby had lived, but when she lost it, there was no point. It made sense to Lizzie but it made her uneasy too. It made her wonder what else Bea had done to protect her over the years.
It also made her realise that she had been unfairly angry with Alex. He’d had no idea about her pregnancy. Lizzie had treated him badly, blaming him for something that wasn’t his fault. She kept thinking about his face as she told him about the baby. He had looked crushed. She’d had to leave the pub immediately because she hadn’t known what else to do, but now she was starting to wonder. She couldn’t shake off the feeling that he deserved better somehow.
She got up and, wrapping her dressing gown around herself, she padded into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. It was just after six o’clock. She carried her tea into the living room and pulled the curtains. It was still dark outside with a few early commuters making their way to the station. She sat down on the sofa and tried to dismiss the nagging feeling that she should get in touch with Alex. It wasn’t as if she owed him anything. It wasn’t her fault that Bea hadn’t delivered her letter and that he’d found out in the space of less than a minute that he’d fathered and lost a child. That was down to her sister and whatever her motives had been, the deed was done and couldn’t be undone. Still, it wasn’t Alex’s fault either.
Lizzie found herself thinking about the baby from time to time. The child would have been sixteen now; just a year younger than Lizzie when she got pregnant. Her mind raced at the thought of life turning in cycle after cycle; people live, people die. How are you supposed to exist within all that uncertainty? She had thought that she was getting a grip on her life; thought she was working towards her share of happiness, but now she wasn’t so sure.
Maybe she needed to talk to someone, to Susie perhaps. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to unload every detail but she felt in need of Susie’s positive outlook. She resolved to take Bambi for a walk later in the day and see if she could persuade Susie to join her. The thought consoled her and for the time being, she was able to put thoughts of Alex and Bea on hold.
That morning in the bookshop dragged like only an overcast January morning can. People seemed reluctant to leave their warm houses and they certainly weren’t buying books today. Normally Lizzie revelled in the peace of a quiet shop but today, it felt oddly stifling. Bambi seemed to share her sentiment. He kept pacing the floor, sniffing and turning circles on the spot.
‘What is wrong with you today?’ remarked Mrs Nussbaum, looking up at him from the crossword. The dog whined in reply.
‘I think he needs to get out,’ said Lizzie. ‘I’ll take him, shall I?’
‘Ja, I think that is eine gute Idee, Lizzie. Could you perhaps pick me up a slice of cheesecake on the way back bitte?’
‘No problem.’ Lizzie fetched her coat, scarf and hat and Bambi’s lead and made for the door. The dog leapt up and gave a series of short, happy barks. ‘Yes that’s right, we’re off to the park,’ said Lizzie, clipping his lead to his collar.
The dog darted out of the door, dragging Lizzie behind him, causing them to bump straight into Ben, who caught Lizzie by the shoulders with a ‘Whoa there!’ He looked down at her with a grin. ‘Who’s taking whom for a walk then?’
She smiled up at him, momentarily transfixed by his dark brown eyes and the dimple that appeared when he smiled. She’d always had a thing about dimples. ‘Bambi’s just taking me to the park for a run-around,’ she said.
‘I was just heading that way myself. Mind if I walk with you?’ asked Ben. Lizzie’s mind had been set to see if Susie wanted to join her but now, with Ben standing in front of her, friendly and warm, she changed her mind.
For his part, Bambi was not keen on the people above his head wasting time on conversations. He was ready to go and made a sudden bid for freedom, pulling Lizzie behind him so that she had to run to keep up. ‘Be my guest but you might have to do a Usain Bolt to catch us,’ she called back over her shoulder.
Ben rose to the challenge. Running after them, he caught hold of Bambi’s lead and pulled the dog back to a halt. ‘Good lad,’ he said, patting him on the head. ‘Now please don’t think I’m being sexist but would you like me to take the lead?’
Lizzie smiled with gratitude. ‘Please,’ she said already out of breath. ‘He nearly had my arm out of its socket.’
They walked a small distance along the high street before meeting a mother and daughter who were regular visitors to the shop, particularly since Bambi had been in residence.
‘Doggy!’ cried the little girl with delight and Bambi, despite being in a hurry to reach the park, was gracious enough to pause and let her pull his ears.
‘Oh hi, Lizzie,’ said the woman. ‘Out for a walk?’
‘He needs a bit of exercise,’ smiled Lizzie. ‘The dog I mean, not Ben,’ she added, gesturing towards Bambi, who had rested his head in the little girl’s lap and was accepting sultanas from her chubby fingers.
The woman laughed. ‘Well, he’s lovely. The dog I mean, not your boyfriend. Although he looks lovely too.’ She gave an embarrassed cough. ‘Sorry, I should get going. Enjoy your walk!’
‘Well thank heavens,’ said Ben after she’d gone. ‘Because that could have been really awkward.’ They exchanged glances and laughed.
‘So how have you been?’ asked Lizzie. ‘How was your Christmas?’
‘As if I was about five years old again,’ said Ben with a shiver. ‘It was the first Christmas in ages that Susie and I were at home with Mum and Dad and you could say that we all reverted to type.’
Lizzie laughed. ‘How so?’
Ben rolled his eyes. ‘Well basically Mum and Susie are a nightmare when they’re together. It’s like a re-enactment of our teenage years when adolescence met the menopause. It’s a bit like When Harry Met Sally except not at all funny and with lots more screaming and shouting.’
‘Yikes! Sounds scary.’
‘It was beyond scary. And did you just say “yikes”?’ teased Ben.
Lizzie was mockingly indignant. ‘What if I did?’
‘I just was worried for a moment that we’d been transported back to a 1970s episode of Scooby Doo.’
‘Well I could have said, “Zowie Cavey”.’
‘Now you’re just showing your age.’
Lizzie laughed and noticed Ben grinning at her, his eyes twinkling with amusement. She enjoyed their banter. It was not like anything she’d ever experienced with a man before. It made her forget who she’d been and gave her a glimpse of the person she wanted to be.
As they reached the entrance to the park, Ben unclipped Bambi’s lead and the dog darted off across the wide green space. He ran around the perimeter, stopped, turned three times on the spot and bounded back towards them. He ran to Lizzie and then to Ben, who patted him on the head before he was off again on a second circuit.
‘Happy to be alive,’ smiled Ben. He turned to Lizzie. ‘How about you? How was your Christmas?’
‘Well I felt about five years old too but that’s probably where the similarity ends,’ she said.
Ben’s face grew serious. ‘The first Christmas without your sister must have been hard. I’m sorry, Lizzie, I’ve just realised that I don’t even know her name.’
‘Bea. She was called Bea,’ said Lizzie quietly. ‘And it was hard but it was lovely too because I got to spend time with my nephew, Sam. He’s ten and very like his mother.’
Ben nodded. ‘I guess after losing your sister, it’s good to have
your family to fall back on.’
Lizzie looked into his eyes. She could trust this man. She knew she could. ‘It was the first Christmas I’d been home for fifteen years and the first Christmas I’d ever spent with Sam,’ she said.
It was like a test. She watched his face but Ben didn’t flinch. ‘That must have been difficult too. What made you go back? Was it because of Bea?’
There was something about the gentle way he asked this question that made her want to tell him everything. She cleared her throat. ‘When Bea died, she left me twelve letters containing her final wishes. She hoped they would make me happy.’
‘And are they making you happy?’ he asked.
Lizzie considered this. At this precise moment, standing here, talking to Ben, she felt happier than she had been for a long time but when she thought about Alex and the undelivered letter, she felt a nagging sense of doubt. ‘Sometimes,’ she said, looking at him with meaning. ‘There is unresolved stuff from the past and I don’t know whether I want to face it.’
‘I know all about unresolved pasts,’ said Ben. He glanced over at the park cafe. ‘How about we grab a drink and swap stories? It might make you feel better.’
This sentiment was uttered with such kindness that Lizzie found herself bursting into tears. Ben underwent the customary look of panic that a man feels at the sight of a weeping woman but it was fleeting. He put an arm around her shoulder. ‘Come on,’ he said, leading her to the cafe.
She nodded with embarrassment. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to start blubbing like that. You were too nice to me,’ she said as they reached the cafe.
Ben laughed. ‘Well I’ve never been accused of that one before. I’ll try to be a lot meaner in the future. How about a hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows? Although it will make you fat.’ He cupped one hand around his mouth and whispered, ‘That was me being mean by the way.’
