The Runaway

by Grace Thompson

  This was what she had dreamed of for so long: a husband a family, a child of her own. There was no doubt that he loved her. So he was quick-tempered and over protective. Wasn’t that a price worth paying?

  chapter two

  In the brief time during which Faith had worked at the local school she had become friendly with Winnie James and her three children, Jack who was eight, Bill aged six and Polly five. It was to Winnie that she confided her doubts about marrying Matt.

  Winnie laughed. ‘It’s a bit late to change your mind, isn’t it?’ She patted her friend’s bump and Faith agreed ruefully.

  ‘I suppose I’m afraid because this time I won’t be able to run away and that’s what I usually do when things begin to worry me, or become difficult.’

  ‘It’ll be all right. Your little one will be a friend for my three one day. As they get older the age differences seem less. I can imagine our Polly being a real mother to him when he arrives.’

  ‘More important, will I be a good mother? I don’t think I have any natural nursing skills. After all, I didn’t have any role models.’

  ‘A lot of old “loll” if you ask me,’ Winnie said. ‘Loving your child isn’t something you have to learn, it’s as natural as closing your eyes when you want to sleep. I didn’t even like dolls when I was growing up. I preferred cars!’

  Despite Winnie’s encouraging words Faith still had doubts. She had been squirrelling away her wages and guiltily accepting Matt and Carol’s generosity regarding clothes and everything else the baby would need. Some instinct warned her that she might need an escape route as she always had in the past. Even a baby didn’t cancel that thought out completely.

  They didn’t need to buy any furniture or other household items as they intended living ‘through and through’ with Carol, sharing everything in the house and having only a bedroom to call their own. That was a practical solution but not what Faith had imagined as the beginning of married life.

  Faith watched like an anxious mother hen as the children walked in a ‘crocodile’ along the road from the park, heading back to school. She loved her work, but if Matt had his way she would have to leave her teaching career for at least a few years. Since meeting Matt Hewitt her life had changed beyond all her imaginings. It had given her what she had always dreamed of, a family of her own. Her sister, Joy, had been lost to her in 1939 when she had been one year old, the result of the mass evacuation of children from the large towns, and the confusions of World War II. She had heard nothing of her parents since that time and presumed they had been killed during the bombing of London. Constant searches for her sister had failed to find her.

  She would still continue to search for Joy, even though hope was all but diminished. At least she now had Matt and in a few months she’d have the delight of a baby to enjoy and love and care for. Matt wanted this child so much and she had to believe he would be a good and loving father. If only she was as certain that he loved her, or, she admitted to her secret self, if she were certain that she loved Matt and wasn’t just pretending because of her child and her desperate longing for a family.

  As the procession of lively children reached the school gates the rest of the pupils were already coming out for playtime and she released the children, except the monitors, who helped her carry the sports equipment into the storeroom. Then she went to the staffroom for a welcome cup of tea.

  On the following day, a Saturday, she and Matt were to marry but very few people were invited. A quiet marriage ceremony at the local register office was all she had arranged. Better not to make too much fuss, the dates of the wedding and the birth would be quoted often enough without increasing the number of people that knew.

  She thought fleetingly of Nick Harris and wondered whether he and Tessa were happy. Had she clung to Nick because she had loved him? Or had he simply been an escape from continuing loneliness, a reason to stop running away? Was it the same with Matt? And did that make her incapable of true love?

  It was half an hour after the children had gone home when Faith left the school. She had stayed behind to prepare some displays for the entrance hall. Walking home, her mind was still concentrating on the photographs and food from different nations which she had placed in front of a large world map with ribbons showing their origins, so she wasn’t aware of the car approaching. It didn’t actually hit her, but its closeness made her stumble and fall.

  Before she could rise, several people ran to help her and one ran into a nearby shop and phoned for an ambulance. Protesting only weakly, she was taken to hospital. Matt and his mother were informed.

  The doctor advised her to stay overnight to make sure both she and the baby were all right. She daren’t reveal her relief when Carol accepted that they had to cancel the wedding.

  When she came out of hospital she went straight to see her friend, Winnie.

  ‘Faith! Are you sure you’re all right? Shouldn’t you be at home, resting?’

  ‘I’m fine, really. I’d love a cup of tea, though.’

  ‘Such a pity about the wedding. I’d bought flowers and buttonholes and now I can’t even wear my new dress,’ Winnie said in mock dismay. Glancing at her friend, aware of her doubts, she asked. ‘How do you feel about cancelling the wedding? Will you rearrange it as soon as possible? Or have you decided to wait until after the baby’s born? No one need know you didn’t marry, if you don’t want them to.’

  ‘You’ll think me wicked, but I can’t help feeling relieved. A baby isn’t the best reason to marry, whatever the oldies say. It will soon be the sixties and there’s a new set of rules, very different from those of previous generations.’

  Winnie giggled, her hand over her mouth in a familiar gesture. ‘I don’t think Matt’s mother would like to be called an oldie!’

  ‘Well, you know what I mean.’

  ‘You mean you still aren’t sure about Matt?’

  ‘If it weren’t for this baby, I might have changed my mind about marrying him. There’s his temper which I find worrying and there’s something secretive about him that makes me uneasy.’ She hesitated then added, ‘There are things I’m not being told. Carol looks shifty when I ask about his life before he met me.’

  ‘Afraid you won’t like hearing about his previous girlfriends, no doubt.’

  ‘Maybe that’s all it is, but somehow I have the feeling there’s more. Anyway, this near-accident and the stay in hospital has given me a second chance. A time to really consider. Lucky for once, don’t you think?’

  ‘I never had any doubts about Paul, not for a minute, so perhaps you’re right to hesitate. Come on, I’ll walk you back home. I expect Matt and Carol are getting anxious.’

  Winnie loosened the scarf around her neck, worn against the chill September breeze, took it off and put it around Faith’s neck as though she were the mother, then they walked, arm in arm, back to the workshop and house where Faith lived with Matt and Carol.

  Faith felt less and less happy as they drew nearer to the house. Carol was waiting for her, looking anxious, and Faith whispered to her friend, ‘Winnie, I don’t want to stay here tonight.’ Matt appeared and she said, ‘I’ll just collect a few things, I’m going to stay a day or so with Mrs Porter.’

  ‘Why? You can’t do that, you’ll make me look a fool!’

  ‘Just for a few days, Matt. How can that make you look stupid?’

  Matt pleaded, became a little angry, but Faith was adamant. ‘No, Matt. I need my old room for a few days, maybe more. All my things needed for school are here. I need to sort them out, then I’ll go. Winnie will call every day, and you and Carol aren’t far away if I need anything. Just for a while.’ She glanced at Winnie, aware she was being stubborn, but something inside her was warning her not to fully accept Matt into her life, nor to cut herself off from everything until she was sure. When that would be she couldn’t guess.

  Mrs Porter welcomed her with delight but she was curious. With difficulty she refrained from asking questions, filling the firs
t few minutes by making sure Faith’s room contained all she might need.

  Faith didn’t sleep well even though the room with its familiar furnishings felt like home. She was filled with the urge to run away from Matt and the over-anxious Carol and her undefined doubts. But with a baby due in a few months that was no longer possible. What is wrong with me, that I get myself into situations I can’t manage and from which there is no escape except to run away, she asked herself over and over again during the dark, silent night hours. Bad judgement? Over-concern with the opinion of others? A ridiculous need to please people, have them like her? Had her lonely childhood distorted her natural good sense? Did the obsessional need to belong at all costs colour every action and thought?

  She stayed a few weeks until local gossip was embarrassing Matt so much that she couldn’t stay away any longer. She had left her job and Carol called daily and went practically everywhere with her. Everyone told her how lucky she was, what a blessing it was to have such care during her pregnancy, but it made her want to hide like a naughty child. Once she went back to Matt, with him working only yards away, she would never be alone.

  With tearful goodbyes to Mrs Porter she went back. Walking in was so depressing that she felt a surge of longing to go straight out again. In spite of Carol’s and Matt’s protests she insisted on going for a daily walk on her own. Sometimes, like today, she met Winnie for a chat and, while waiting for her friend, she stood at the school gate watching the children enjoying the freedom of playtime. A teacher stood watching them, a whistle on a chain around her neck in case of trouble. Games of tag, hide and seek and hopscotch engrossed many of them but several, gathered in chatty groups, glanced up and described a swollen belly with their arms and grinned saucily before small hands covered their mouths. With her pregnancy now obvious, Faith was aware that she was an excuse for merriment.

  Amid all the noise and movement, a timid-looking girl stood alone near the school entrance. She was also observing the groups of boys and girls and Faith thought she knew how the child was feeling. An outsider herself all through school, she remembered the feeling of isolation, the fear of attracting attention, afraid of the teasing and name-calling, which was all the attention she could expect.

  In her own case it had been the ill-fitting and old-fashioned clothes she had been made to wear, together with her thinness, her straight, unwashed hair, the big boots that wouldn’t have been worn by any other pupil, except perhaps in a Dickensian play. Having a foster-mother who had unexpectedly given birth to a child of her own had meant she was way down the queue for anything new.

  The girl she was watching wore stockings that wrinkled over her skinny legs and her feet seemed too large. As Faith watched, memories swooped back as fierce as a blow. She too had been small and fragile at this child’s age – seven or eight. The second-hand clothes she had worn would not have been a problem if they had fitted, most children had new only once or twice a year, but the garments had been handed to her foster-mother as hand-me-downs from other children and fit was a secondary consideration. What she was given, she wore.

  She turned away and forced a smile as she saw her friend Winnie approaching.

  ‘There’s a rush it is to get out in the mornings,’ Winnie puffed as she slowed down, too breathless to speak for a moment or two. ‘Seeing the kids into school, then going back to clear up and get the meal on. Lucky I am that Paul is home today or I wouldn’t have made it.’

  ‘I’m glad you did, Winnie. Now where shall we go, Dilys Jones’s café?’

  They settled into a corner where they could see the comings and goings and ordered tea, and lemon-and-honey biscuits. Winnie stared at Faith and said:

  ‘Serious you looked, standing there watching the children. Dreaming about your own baby were you? Or do you miss teaching?’

  ‘Both, I suppose. But today it was mostly because I was watching that sad little girl who always stands alone.’ She smiled at Winnie. ‘I was like that, a loner. And teased? You’d never believe!’

  ‘Never! What reason did they find to tease you?’

  ‘Because I was dressed like a scarecrow and looked like scrag end of mutton!’ She laughed and Winnie joined in. Then, serious again, she said. ‘I’ve got Matt now and soon there’ll be the baby. But I’ll never forget that loneliness. It’s hard to explain the feeling of having no one else in the whole world. Mam and Dad must have died or they’d have found me, but I might still have a sister and my dream is one day to find her. Perhaps she found me once and ran away seeing what a scraggy, miserable thing I was,’ she added jocularly.

  ‘Come on, Faith, I can’t imagine you being anything but lovely.’

  ‘I look more like the best end of mutton, now, with this lump.’

  To change the subject that was obviously upsetting her friend, Winnie asked, ‘Have you tried to find your sister lately?’

  ‘I’ve been trying since I was old enough but it seems hopeless. Everything was in such a muddle. When we were evacuated, believe it or not, there was no rule about keeping families together. We were separated and I was only one year old, and Joy just three; what chance did we have to insist we stayed even near each other? She could be anywhere, and if she married she’d have a different name too. I don’t know where to try that I haven’t tried before.’

  ‘Is that why you’re refusing to marry Matt? Keeping your name in case Joy comes looking for you?’

  ‘Partly.’ Faith admitted.

  ‘Was your childhood really unhappy?’

  ‘You know I was fostered? Well, my last foster-parents had a daughter within a year of my arrival and after that I wasn’t really wanted. I don’t blame them. When I arrived they were childless and she didn’t know she was already expecting their daughter, Jane. They could have sent me back to the home, so I think they did what they thought was best for me.’

  ‘But it wasn’t much?’

  Faith made her friend laugh then, telling her about the deprivation as though it were funny. The time she had been given a new coat only to have it taken from her, as it was ‘too good’ for her and put in a cupboard until Jane was big enough to wear it. She didn’t tell her friend how she used to open the wardrobe door and stare at the coat, stroke it and dream about wearing such a beautiful thing. She didn’t tell her about the party dress bought for Jane to go to a party, to which she was not invited. Or how she had stood across the road and stared through the window at the children having fun.

  She exaggerated when she told her about the boots, and insisted they would have made a perfect home for dozens of mice. ‘They were so big I could turn round without taking them off,’ she joked. A woman sitting at the next table and obviously listening, smiled too.

  ‘At least it’s over and now you’ve got Matt and he looks after you, doesn’t he?’ said Winnie. Lowering her voice, aware of a woman listening to their conversation, she asked, ‘Why do you have doubts about marrying Matt? Your lost sister isn’t the real reason, is it? And you must feel something for him or you wouldn’t be – you know …’ She gestured toward her swollen figure. ‘I mean, you’re living with him and his mam, Matt’s baby is on the way, so why refuse to become Mrs Matt Hewitt?’

  ‘You’re never thinking of marrying that Matt Hewitt are you?’ the woman at the next table said loudly. ‘Poor dab you, if that’s his child you’re carrying! He’s wicked beyond, that one and should never have been let out of prison.’

  Startled, Faith asked what she meant, but the woman stood up and walked away, muttering about Matt’s mother, ‘That Carol Hewitt hasn’t got the sense she was born with.’ She stopped and added. ‘And neither have you if you marry that evil man! Run while you still can is my advice!’

  Faith and Winnie looked around as though expecting someone else to explain, but everyone turned away; some studying their plates, or the contents of their handbags, others turning their chairs around noisily to face the other way.

  ‘Come on, let’s go,’ Winnie said, helping Faith to rise. ‘I
t wouldn’t do any harm to ask Matt’s mother what the woman meant, mind, just to set your mind at ease. If there is something wrong you’re entitled to know. Although the woman has probably mixed him up with someone else.’

  Matt’s mother, Carol, assured Faith that she knew nothing about her son that could have warranted such a remark, but Faith was aware of an uneasiness about her for the rest of the day. There was so much she didn’t know about Matt. He evaded answering when she asked about his past and Carol always gave Faith the impression that she was afraid of secrets being revealed. There must have been other women, he was thirty-two after all, and that wasn’t necessarily a cause for such alarm.

  Something illegal was Faith’s guess but he always became sharp and irritable when she asked what she thought were reasonable questions to put to a man whose child she carried. Getting to know someone always led to questions and answers, but not with Matt. So how was she to find out what was meant by the outburst from the woman in the café?

  Matt called in at lunchtime and again at four o’clock, besides popping his head around the door between jobs, then going back to his workshop having reassured himself that Faith was comfortable. So caring, constantly smiling. Faith waited for Carol to explain the strange comment made by the woman in the café, but she didn’t and Faith tried to convince herself that it had been as Winnie had suggested, a misunderstanding and best ignored. It niggled though, and she wondered if there really was something in his past to cause the woman’s concern. Another attempt to discuss it with Carol brought no result and she tried to forget it. She was beginning to feel like a traitor.