An old man came and sat beside them, and within a very short time, squirrels appeared and moved closer, obviously used to being fed. One at a time they came close to the bench and accepted treats brought by the old man. ‘They’re so bold, they’ll be forming an orderly queue soon,’ Gwennie joked. Adding to the nonsense, Faith said, ‘I can see them, shopping bags on their arms, collecting food for their families.’
Laughter froze on Faith’s face when she saw the newsagent from near Matt’s home approaching. She lowered her head hoping he wouldn’t see her. A shadow crossed between her and the sun and a voice said, ‘Faith Pryor! Happy and laughing as though she hasn’t a care in the world. Not a thought for the man you left devastated or the poor little baby you abandoned.’
Faith stood and turned from him, ready to hurry away, unable to bear the pain of his attack. ‘Shame on you.’ he said as he walked off.
‘What did he mean?’ Gwennie asked. Suspicions aroused, she unconsciously moved a little away from Faith, sliding along the bench towards the old man as though to avoid contamination.
‘I might as well tell you,’ Faith said in a low, defeated voice. ‘You’d soon hear of it anyway.’ Briefly she explained what had happened, explaining about the newspaper story and how it had made her determined the child would grow up without knowing Matt.
‘You are that Faith? Matt’s wife?’ Gwennie looked at Faith in disbelief. ‘You stole his child, then abandoned her.’ Gwennie’s voice was quivering.
‘If you’d read the report of the trial you’d understand why I couldn’t allow him to be a part of my child’s life.’
‘I not only read the report, I was there, in court for every moment. Matt is my cousin and he was innocent of the charges that wicked girl made.’
‘I can understand your reluctance to believe what happened, but the sentence wouldn’t have been given if there had been any doubt.’
‘The girl was a fine actress. Dressed for the court appearances she looked like a somewhat simple schoolgirl. When she set out to attract men she dressed like an eighteen-year-old tart.’
‘I’m not listening to this. The girl was only fourteen. I know what he’s like. He was forceful, impatient and there was more than a hint of anger in his determination to get his own way. Doesn’t the fact that I instantly believed it tell you something?’
‘That you didn’t know him and certainly didn’t love him.’
‘You’re right about my not loving him,’ Faith replied sadly. ‘He persuaded me into – into doing what he wanted and I was too weak to resist.’
‘Rubbish. You left him in pieces and even now you can’t admit you were wrong.’
‘I would like you out of the house by the weekend,’ Faith said, her voice sounding as though she were being severely shaken.
‘Don’t worry, I’m leaving today! I won’t stay in your house for a minute more than necessary!’ Gwennie called after her.
And she’ll go straight to Matt to tell him where I am, Faith thought sadly. This time I can’t run away. At least the child is safe from him. That thought gave her strength. And I’ll have a bedroom for a while instead of that old couch!
When she got home that evening she could hear banging about in the bedroom occupied by Gwennie. Ian arrived soon after she had taken off her coat and at once she told him what had happened. Before they had finished discussing it, Gwennie came down the stairs, dragging her suitcases. Ian went into the hall. ‘Can I help you with those?’ he asked politely.
‘If you had any sense you’d leave with me. She’s evil. Ruined Matt’s life, she did, and she won’t admit she was wrong, even now.’
They both watched as Gwennie half-carried, half-dragged the cases along the road. At the end a delivery van waited, its engine running. Matt’s van, Faith recognized with dismay. The driver jumped down and helped Gwennie with her cases, lifting them with ease and throwing them into the back of the van. He politely helped Gwennie into the passenger seat, then, without looking at Faith and Ian, he drove off.
‘So he knows where I am. He’ll come back,’ Faith said.
‘I hope I’m here when he does,’ Ian said, smiling encouragingly.
‘Could she have been right? Could he have been innocent of the girl’s accusations?’
‘Could Matt have been the victim? It’s possible I suppose,’ he conceded.
Faith’s heart gave a sickening lurch. ‘You believe her?’
‘There are such things as predatory females. You know Matt and you saw the reports of the trial. I didn’t. All I have to go on is what you told me and the notes you made from the newspaper reports. No one believed him, so it’s more than likely he was guilty.’
‘What if I was wrong?’
‘You went by what you knew at the time and even if something new emerges, that doesn’t make what you did wrong. Hindsight is no use to anyone, except a rabbit being chased by a fox, so don’t blame yourself.’
‘If I made a mistake, you mean? You do believe Matt was wronged.’
‘How can I know either way? Perhaps, if I spoke to Matt I’d be able to judge.’
When he left later that evening depression fell about her like a wet shawl, draping her in an icy chill. She didn’t think she would ever feel warm again. Her life would never become easy. For some mysterious reason, she didn’t deserve it to be. She remembered the times she had been difficult with her various foster-parents, and to some teachers who tried to help; she recalled neighbours who had befriended her to whom she had been ill-mannered and ungrateful. Depression is greedy; it feeds on moments of weakness and builds up into the darkest of clouds, engulfing everyone near.
She awoke the following morning after a restless night and her first thought was of Ian. He believed she had been cruel, taking away Matt’s child without fully knowing the facts. She hadn’t given Matt a chance to explain, to give her his side of things. She tried to picture a thin little schoolgirl, afraid and vulnerable, but Gwennie’s description got in the way and she saw a bold-eyed girl, dressed and made up to look older and she was filled with doubts.
She went to work and forced a smile for the customers. The day was unexpectedly warm and at lunchtime she didn’t go home. Instead she went to the beach and stood watching the families having fun. Such ordinary pleasures, but not for me, she thought. She leant on the strong sea wall and listened to the shrieks of children’s voices interspersed with mothers shouting, calling them for food, all against the background of the roaring sea, and tried not to think.
During the afternoon two people came into the shop and, slightly embarrassed, cancelled their orders for bread. Mrs Palmer frowned but accepted the cancellations without comment. When a third customer came, this time a small boy bringing a note, she showed the note to Faith.
We don’t want any more bread because we won’t he served by a woman who abandoned her baby.
‘I think I know who is doing this. D’you want me to leave?’ Faith whispered.
Mrs Palmer shook her head. ‘No point running away from this sort of talk. We’ll work our way through it, shall we?’
‘But you’re losing customers.’
‘They’ll be back. Ours is the best bread in the area, isn’t it? They won’t settle for second best for long.’
The house was empty when she reached home at six o’clock, Mr and Mrs Gretorex were out, Gwennie’s room was empty and the place sounded hollow. She wasn’t hungry, but made a slice of toast and bit into it without tasting it. There were several letters, including one from Vivienne in which she remarked on the surprising end to Olive’s tenancy. Faith laughed at her reaction to the stowaways, as she called Olive’s sons. It was good to have contact with a friend sharing good news and bad. The present situation had hardly been a cause for laughter, but Vivienne’s letter had at least cheered her briefly out of her dismay.
She sat in the kitchen aware of the emptiness of the house. Thank goodness she didn’t have to live there alone, the quiet was unnerving. She listened for the sound of the Gretore
xes returning. The sound of a van didn’t penetrate her brain for a few moments, then the slow hum as the vehicle rumbled over the uneven surface hit her like a blow. She ran to the window and saw Matt’s van pull up outside. Without a thought, she dashed through the back door, over a neighbour’s garden and up to the park. The thought that she was living up to her nickname didn’t stop her.
Matt knocked, then went round to the back door and walked in. There was a half-eaten slice of toast on a plate and, touching the teapot he found it was warm. He ran back out and called her name. ‘Damn it, she’ll have to come back sooner or later,’ he muttered. He sat inside for half an hour, making himself fresh tea and helping himself to biscuits. It was almost 7.30 when he gave up and walked back to the van.
Parking behind him was a Vauxhall car. He walked up to the driver and asked, ‘Are you Ian Day?’
‘Yes. And I presume you’re Matt Hewitt.’
‘No prize for guessing as it’s written on the van!’
‘Is Faith in?’
‘No. I’ve waited ages. She must have darted out of the back door when she saw me. Running away as usual!’ He smiled, encouraging Ian to share it.
‘Can I give her a message?’ Both men were speaking with cautious politeness. ‘Or would you like to wait a bit longer?’
‘I’d like to talk to you.’
‘Fine,’ Ian replied hesitantly.
‘My cousin told me she was living here, had a boyfriend and was completely happy. She thought the baby – my baby – was forgotten. She told you about the baby, I suppose?’ Ian nodded. ‘Then you must know she stole my child, denied I was the father and put her up for adoption, then walked away without even an explanation?’
‘She read the account of the trial, which you hadn’t told her about, and was afraid for the baby being brought up by a … forceful man.’
‘Forceful? Don’t you mean violent?’
‘Do I?’
‘It wasn’t like it said in the papers.’
‘It rarely is. But the victim was a child, and rape is an ugly word and not easily forgotten.’
Matt climbed back into the van. ‘Just don’t believe everything she says. Faith can be as dishonest as that girl I’m supposed to have attacked.’
Ian was confused, although he couldn’t deny that Faith had done what she considered to be the right thing, based on what she had learned. But Matt might have been less of a villain than the courts pronounced, and he had lost a child and that was a terrible price to pay.
He didn’t go inside although the air was cool and a breeze was rising, he sat on the step in the gathering darkness and waited. Footsteps approached and he looked up to see Faith walking through the gate. She was only wearing a thin dress, strappy sandals on her feet.
‘Here I am. The runaway.’
‘You must be cold,’ he said, ‘I’ll make us a cup of tea. Have you eaten?’
He spoke as though the day had been an ordinary one, and it was a long time since she’d had one of those. When she had found a jumper and was sipping tea, and tinned spaghetti was warming on the stove, Ian told her Matt had been there.
‘I know, I saw him coming and ran,’ she admitted, her hands trembling with anxiety. ‘What did he want?’
‘Your lodger had told him you were here and very happy, having forgotten all about your child. He wanted to tell you how wrong you were, I suppose. He told me instead.’
‘Gwennie has been busy spreading gossip. Mrs Palmer lost several customers today, they refused to be served by me.’
‘Does she want you to leave?’
‘Not yet. But if more people change to another baker, who knows?’
She put toast and spaghetti on two plates and Ian sighed and said, ‘Perhaps one day you’ll show me some of the skills you practised for Mrs Thomas. Didn’t you tell me you could cook?’ He was joking and she smiled.
‘Come on Sunday, bring your mother and I’ll show you what I can do.’ Then she frowned. ‘If you still want to, of course, now you’ve spoken to Matt and heard his side of the story?’
‘Mam and I will be here at twelve and we’ll be starving, so it had better be good!’ He hugged her lightly as he left an hour later and she imagined she could still feel the pressure of his arms as she drifted into sleep.
The following day, Ian went home to find his ex-fiancée, Tessa being entertained by his mother.
For a moment he felt the urge to run as Faith had so recently done, but he removed his coat, put his bag and files in his office and went in to greet her. He kissed his mother and gave Tessa a casual ‘Hello.’
‘Tessa was walking past and begged a cup of tea,’ Vivienne explained. ‘She was so cold, weren’t you, Tessa?’
‘Before I forget, Mum, you and I have been invited to Sunday lunch at Faith’s. All right?’
‘Lovely, dear. There are a few dahlias left in the garden, I’ll take her a bunch, she loves flowers.’
‘You do know who Faith is, don’t you?’ Tessa asked, staring at Ian.
‘The woman who had an illegitimate child then abandoned her? Yes, Mum and I know who she is. Now, if you’re going straight away I can give you a lift. Mum and I are going to the pictures, so I don’t have much time.’
It was the first Vivienne had heard of it but she stood up and handed Tessa her coat.
‘Lovely to see you, and thank you for the tea,’ Tessa said, as Ian rushed her to the door.
‘That was rather rude, dear,’ Vivienne said, when he returned a short while later.
‘I think Faith and I have sufficient complications to concern us without Tessa trying to be your friend, Mum.’
‘I think she had something to tell me but you came before she could say it.’
‘She made her choice.’
Customers at the bakery weren’t the only people to show their disapproval of Faith. People who had been friendly seemed unable to know how to treat her when they met. Most simply changed direction and walked away, others glared as she passed and ignored her smiles and greetings. After several unpleasant encounters, she was choosing some fruit when she saw Olive Monk appear. Olive saw her and, for different reasons from the rest, began to back away.
‘Hello, Olive. Come and have a cup of tea, the café is open for a while yet.’
‘Oh, Faith, dear, I’m so sorry. I wish—’
‘Forget sorry, the truth is I can’t honestly say I wouldn’t have done the same if I’d been clever enough to think of it. It’s difficult to criticize when I’ve never been in your situation.’ In moments they were chatting like friends again.
Ian saw them as they stepped out of the café later and offered Olive a lift home but she refused quite firmly.
‘I don’t think things are very good,’ Faith told him. ‘She was evasive when I asked where they are living.’
‘She probably waits till dark and shins up an apple tree,’ he joked.
Olive walked back to yet another unpleasant room. The most recent one had been infected with bedbugs and the swelling on her skin made her refuse to stay another night. ‘I’d rather sleep in the fields than in a filthy place like that,’ she had said tearfully. Colin and Graham had promised that the next one was an improvement.
‘It isn’t perfect. Nothing like what we want for you, Mam, but we’ve stayed there before and the owner has promised us one of his better rooms once one becomes vacant.’
They were walking past a shabby building with a broken door and boarding over several windows and her spirits fell when they stopped and Colin pointed to the steps leading to a once grand door swinging on one hinge.
‘Not here?’
‘Afraid so, but it isn’t too bad inside.’
The boys showed her to a small, dismal room. Furnished, the advertisement had said, but as Olive looked around at the ancient bed and the scratched wardrobe and the sagging chair, she wondered how it could be so described. ‘It’s a mess,’ she said sadly.
‘It’s only till we find something better, Mam.
You can manage here for a few weeks, can’t you? We’ll get a decent job soon.’
‘A few weeks?’ Olive looked around the miserable room and shook her head. Winter will be gloomy enough all alone, but to spend it in this place was unimaginable.
‘We’re going to ask Granddad for help,’ Colin said.
‘No! I won’t have him knowing just how badly we’re managing.’
‘He owes you something, Mam,’ Graham argued.
‘Perhaps you could go and see Faith, see if you can change her mind?’ was his brother’s suggestion.
‘I can’t do that either. How can I ask her to help us after what we did?’ But the idea was very tempting.
‘We’ll get a job soon,’ Kenneth promised, but again she shook her head.
Why was keeping a job so difficult for her sons? In what way had she failed them? She unpacked her few belongings and bits of shopping and tried to make the place look less like an abandoned building and more like a place fit for human habitation. She had brought very little with her and the velvet cushion and the china ornaments only succeeded in making the room look more shabby than ever.
chapter eight
Faith couldn’t concentrate on preparations for Sunday lunch for Ian and his mother. Thoughts of Matt filled her every moment; if Gwennie was right and he was innocent, then she had robbed the man of his child. She knew she had to see him and try to make him tell her the truth.
Saturday was usually an early finish at the shop. Once the cakes and bread had sold out there was no point in keeping the shop open. Mrs Palmer had been correct and after a few days of protest, buying their needs elsewhere, the customers had returned and business was as usual. On that Saturday, an early rush had continued all morning and everything was sold out by mid-afternoon. She began the cleaning at 3.30 and an hour later they closed.
She didn’t go home. The bus took her back to where Matt and Carol lived, and with a racing heart she went straight to the workshop, from where she could hear banging. Matt was knocking some dry cement out of a wheelbarrow and he looked up as her shadow fell over him and stared. He stopped what he was doing and walked across.
The Runaway Page 14
