The Runaway

by Grace Thompson

  ‘I need to talk to you,’ she said. She watched him as he walked slowly towards her, his eyes so intense, dark and seeming to penetrate her very soul so she felt again the magnetism of the man. Nervously she lowered her gaze and studied the floor until he spoke. ‘A bit late for talking, now you’ve stolen my child.’

  ‘I had to send her away. I didn’t want you in her life. One day she’ll have found out what you did and besides, if you could do that once you could do it again. How could I know we’d be safe?’

  ‘That girl didn’t tell the truth.’

  ‘That’s what your mother said, but the court thought differently and I couldn’t take the chance.’

  ‘Why have you come?’

  ‘I want you to tell me the truth. I need to know I wasn’t wrong.’

  ‘You want me to ease your conscience?’

  ‘Please, Matt. If I ever meant anything to you you’ll tell me the truth now.’

  ‘The girl wasn’t the victim. I was.’

  ‘Please, Matt.’

  ‘You were wrong, Faith.’

  ‘Don’t do this to me, please.’

  ‘Go away. I won’t bother you again, you can forget all about me and my little daughter. There, does that help you feel better?’

  She ran off, fighting back tears. She would never be free from what she had done. The memories would never fade. Time will heal? That must be a joke! She knew, exactly to the hour, how old her daughter was at every moment of her days. How could that ever change?

  She had to shop on the way home to gather all she needed for the planned Sunday lunch. Roast chicken wasn’t exactly adventurous, but with a special selection of vegetables and followed by an extravagant pavlova, she knew they would be impressed. With a base of meringue, she’d add mandarin slices, kiwi, strawberries, grapes and banana, mostly tinned, all covered in thick cream. She consulted her list and went into the greengrocer’s where she regularly bought her fruit and vegetables. As she waited in the busy shop to be served she decided that it would be a good idea to invite Mr and Mrs Gretorex to join them. They might welcome the opportunity to get to know her better. The table would just about seat five, if she could borrow a few chairs.

  A notice across the road attracted her attention. There was a jumble sale taking place at the church hall. Tempted, she waved to the assistant and told her she would be back, and ran across the road.

  No 3 Railway Cottages still lacked many of the basic items and as the place was about to close, she thought she might find a few bargains. Fifteen minutes later she had bought two bentwood chairs, a small table, two saucepans, a couple of cushions, three flower vases, an assortment of cutlery and china and a tablecloth. The organizers willingly agreed to deliver them.

  The tablecloth had seen better days; it had been neatly darned a few times and the colour was no longer white, but with the repairs hidden by vases of flowers, the table would look better than with the bare wooden surface.

  Having the meal to think about helped take her mind off her brief meeting with Matt, and she was smiling, anticipating the occasion as she went back into the greengrocer’s shop. Her smile faded when she was told that, no, they wouldn’t deliver. ‘In fact,’ the woman said quietly, ‘we’d prefer that you go somewhere else for your order. We no longer want to serve you.’

  ‘But why? I pay on delivery, the house isn’t very far away. In fact, you deliver to my neighbour.’

  ‘We don’t want to be seen to support you after – you know. People talk, and they might think we agree with what you did.’

  ‘But it was a long time ago!’

  ‘Never long enough for some things.’

  ‘Has someone spoken to you recently and persuaded you I’m unfit to be a customer?’ she asked in disbelief.

  ‘Sorry, but we’d prefer you to leave,’ the woman said defiantly.

  ‘Matt Hewitt? Gwenllian?’

  ‘Next please.’ The assistant smiled politely at the person behind her. Without another word Faith stumbled from the shop.

  It was getting late and soon the shops would be closing. She caught a bus to the main shopping centre of Holton Road and walked into the first greengrocer’s she came to.

  ‘It’s very late, I know, but can you possibly deliver an order for me?’ she asked.

  Doubtfully the man looked at the clock. ‘All right, missus, so long as you’re quick. It’s very late but we don’t like to discourage anyone who might become a regular customer.’

  ‘I possibly will become a regular customer,’ she said, ‘but you’re right, it is rather late.’ She handed him her list and asked them to put everything into a strong box. ‘Just for today I’ll treat myself to a taxi,’ she said. The shop didn’t have all she needed, but she knew it would be sufficient to provide a good lunch. The man helpfully rang for a taxi and lifted the heavy box in for her.

  She felt angry rather than tearful over the other greengrocer’s spurning of her custom, but this time the temptation was not to pack up and leave, to try once more to make a fresh start somewhere where she wasn’t known. No. This time she’d stay and face things. Previous fresh starts hadn’t achieved a thing except weary her and make her feel even more alone. She wouldn’t run away. Not this time.

  As she stepped out of the taxi and the driver was carrying the box to the door, another vehicle pulled up, a van this time and glimpsing just part of it, for a moment she thought it was Matt. To her relief it was the delivery of the items she had bought at the jumble sale. They were carried inside for her and placed in the kitchen.

  Her next task was to invite her tenants, Mr and Mrs Gretorex, to have lunch with her the following day. They accepted with pleasure. Faith looked into the empty room so recently vacated by Olive and wished she could invite her to join them too. She worked late into the evening cleaning the items she had bought. The cutlery looked much improved after a good rub with Vim powder and everything benefited from a lot of soap and hot water. She was very tired when everything was set out ready for the next day but she was well content. So what if that stupid woman refuses to serve me, there are plenty of others who will, she thought as she yawned her way to bed. She was tingling with tiredness but sleep didn’t come as easily as she expected.

  As she settled to sleep, the thought that she had been wrong and Matt really had been the innocent party nagged at her. He had seemed so positive, so truthful that doubts flooded in. If only she knew for certain. Then she could really put the tragedy behind her and dream only of her daughter happily settled with a loving family. She slept eventually but her dreams woke her. She saw her daughter in one of the many homes she herself had experienced where she had been ignored, unwanted, and had dreamed only of finding someone who would love her. At six she got up and began preparing the vegetables.

  Ian and Vivienne arrived at twelve and Vivienne found a clump of mint in the garden with which she made some mint sauce. ‘I know it’s only supposed to go with lamb, but I love it with practically everything,’ she admitted. ‘Daft it is to deprive yourself of something you enjoy because it isn’t correct.’

  The meal was a success and the guests seemed like old friends. As she went into the kitchen for the dessert Faith stopped to listen to the rise and fall of the conversation and the occasional bursts of laughter. Matt is a part of the unhappy past, she told herself and nothing from the past can be changed. I must look to the future, where things can be as I want them to be.

  ‘How long will you be living here?’ Vivienne asked Mrs Gretorex, as they were sipping coffee later.

  ‘Oh, we aren’t in a hurry to leave. We’re very comfortable here and Faith is a generous landlady,’ She patted Faith’s hand. ‘Despite warnings.’

  Faith felt her insides lurch. ‘You were warned not to stay?’ She tried to keep her voice light and forced a smile.

  ‘We were told to leave, that you were not as kind as you appear, you know, gossipy, troublemaking sort of things.’

  ‘Matt! I saw him yesterday and tried to make
him admit he was guilty of attacking that girl but he refused. He said he wouldn’t bother me any more, but he’s already done as much damage as he can, telling everyone he meets his side of the story; the untruthful side.’ She began telling them about the greengrocer who refused to serve her but Mrs Gretorex interrupted.

  ‘Oh no, dear, it wasn’t a man. It was a woman who tried to persuade us to leave.’

  ‘A woman? But who could it be? Oh, it wasn’t my ex-lodger, Gwenllian, was it?’

  ‘No, dear, it wasn’t Gwenllian.’

  Surely not Olive Monk? She dared not ask. She hadn’t driven Olive and her sons from the house; having been found out they just gathered their things and had left. No anger and certainly no force had been applied. They had left without paying the rent that was due and somehow Faith didn’t resent Olive for that. She wondered where she was living and hoped she had found somewhere comfortable. Olive had been considered a friend – another disappointment.

  Faith tried to put the mystery out of her mind and began to clear the dishes. As she carried them into the kitchen, Ian followed. She deliberately changed the subject.

  ‘Fancy your mother finding mint in the garden. I must take a closer look, there might be other herbs, or perhaps I could plant some.’

  The meal seemed to have relaxed the new tenants and they discussed the garden for a while as they cleaned and stacked the dishes, then they all walked outside and began making plans. ‘Cutting back will be the worst job but will give the biggest improvement,’ Mr Gretorex said.

  Ian agreed. ‘Perhaps I can make a start next weekend.’

  ‘We could have some wonderful bonfires,’ Faith said. This was discussed, other ideas were shared and the garden promised to be an enjoyable project.

  ‘I can start clearing the ground but it will be next autumn before I can really set everything out,’ Faith said. ‘If I’m still here,’ she couldn’t help adding, and at once Ian went inside.

  ‘Come on, Mum,’ he said, reaching for their coats. ‘Time we weren’t here.’

  ‘Oh, I hoped you’d stay for tea,’ Faith said. ‘I made some coconut pyramids specially.’

  ‘Sorry, but we have to go,’ Ian said, and there was a sharpness in his voice that alarmed her. Had she done something, said something to upset him? They had been talking about the garden and it was he who had suggested helping, so what could it have been?

  As the car turned in the road, watched by an anxious Faith, Ian was tight-lipped and Vivienne sat silently beside him. Like Faith, she wondered what had been said to cause the sudden change of mood. Later that evening she brought the subject up. ‘What happened between you and Faith? I thought you and she were getting on well.’

  ‘I thought Tessa and I were in love and intending to spend our lives together, but she ran off, didn’t she?’

  ‘Be fair, Ian, you haven’t known Faith long enough to know whether she will be the one. Don’t be in such a hurry. Spend time with her and see if friendship grows into something better.’

  ‘Tessa and I were friends. Friendship grew stronger, then she found someone she preferred and she walked away.’

  ‘So you think Faith will do the same?’

  ‘Of course she will, you heard her, “If I’m still here”. Running away is what she always does.’

  ‘People can change.’

  ‘I want someone who’ll stay whatever happens. She ran away and left her child.’

  Faith watched the car disappear around the corner and turned to see Mrs Gretorex watching her. ‘I don’t know what I said, but I don’t think they’ll be back.’

  ‘I hope it wasn’t my fault, mentioning that stupid woman’s attempt to make us leave.’

  ‘No, of course not. I’m just not lovable,’ she said, then made light of it adding: ‘A pain in the neck, that’s what several of my foster-mothers called me. Now, can I persuade you two to sit in the garden and help me eat these cakes?’

  Guessing the young woman needed company, Mrs Gretorex agreed. The sun shone weakly in a hazy sky and the three of them sat in the garden for a while, wearing warm coats and wrapped in blankets, enjoying the calm quiet of the winter afternoon, sharing the cake and drinking cups of tea until the sun disappeared from its brave showing. A light breeze and the approach of evening encouraged them back indoors.

  When Mr and Mrs Gretorex had gone to their room and everything had been tidied away Faith sat and wondered who the woman could have been. Someone who hated her enough to want to spoil her peace of mind, someone who had taken the trouble to call on her lodgers and tell them they should leave. There was no one, unless Matt had other cousins willing to shout his corner as angrily as Gwenllian had done.

  Olive was attempting to brighten the miserable room with the addition of a few flowers, when her sons called.

  ‘Good news, Mam,’ Kenneth called. ‘Almost all of Dad’s debts are paid.’ He handed her a few receipts which she stared at in disbelief.

  ‘We’ve brought a treat too,’ his brother said offering her a carrier bag issuing tempting smells.

  They unpacked the hot food. Olive shared it between three sections of the wrapping paper and they ate. She was afraid to ask how they had managed to find the money to clear the debts left by their father but Colin guessed her thoughts and said:

  ‘Gambling, that’s how we got the cash. We had a few tips and we were lucky.’

  Olive smiled as though she believed them. An hour later two policemen called and from the questions it was clear her sons were suspected of breaking into a house and stealing a cash-box containing seventy-four pounds.

  ‘Last night?’ Olive queried. ‘They were here with me. Brought food they did, haddock and chips. Lovely it was. Look, the wrapping paper is in the bin, see?’ She showed the recently deposited wrapping paper and hoped they wouldn’t touch it and find it still warm.

  ‘What time did they leave?’ She shook her head. ‘Talking we were until at least three this morning. They make me laugh, my two boys. Lovely company they are.’

  ‘So, everything’s lovely, Mrs Monk?’ the constable said sarcastically.

  ‘Just lovely, officer. Want a cup of tea?’

  When the police had left, Olive stood and stared at her sons.

  ‘All right, Mam, we did steal the money but we promise this is the last time. We had to clear the debts, and this was the only way we could find such a large sum of money.’

  ‘We’ve both got a job now and we’ll stay on the straight. We promise.’

  No news of Olive Monk came to Faith through customers at the shop, even though she regularly asked. She was concerned. Surely the family wasn’t destitute? No post had come for her so she presumed she must have another address. Faith continued asking people if they had seen her but it seemed that Olive and her two sons had disappeared. So I’m not the only one to run away from trouble, she thought wryly. She hoped they had found a suitable place to live.

  The job in the baker’s shop and the rent from two remaining lodgers were enough to keep the bills paid and allow for a few small jobs to be done in the house. Advertisements offering a room to rent had failed to attract prospective tenants and she began to accept that the room would remain unoccupied until people’s memories had faded. Ian hadn’t appeared for almost a week and Faith despaired of seeing him again.

  Alone with her thoughts she became convinced that Matt had been telling the truth. She had robbed him of his daughter, deprived herself of a child to love, and it had been her stupid fault. Why hadn’t she questioned Matt? Talked to Carol before making such a momentous decision affecting all their lives? Now it was too late; there was nothing she could do to make amends, the child was legally adopted and out of her reach. She was past crying, but the ache in her heart threatened to destroy her.

  She wrote to Ian, explaining how she felt, the doubts over what she had done. She also said she understood that he wouldn’t want to see her again after what had happened. Posting it, she wondered whether to go back on her decisi
on and move. She could probably let the house to a family and the rent would provide enough income to pay the loan to the bank. The runaway. Why was running always her solution?

  A few days later she was walking along the road heading for No 3 when she saw someone standing at the front door. She touched the gate and the woman turned to face her. She was young, pretty and dressed attractively in a blue suit over which she wore an off-white swagger coat.

  ‘Miss Pryor?’

  ‘Hello?’ Faith said questioningly.

  ‘I’m Kitty Robins,’ the woman said offering a hand. ‘I’m looking for a room for myself and my husband, Gareth. We have references,’ she added quickly as she saw the doubt on Faith’s face. ‘We need it for at least the winter, maybe longer.’

  ‘You’d better come in.’ Faith unlocked the door and carried her shopping through to the kitchen. ‘The truth is, I’m not certain I want to relet the room,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, it would have been perfect. My husband works on the railway and we had to get out of the rooms we were renting last week and Mam’s place is so inconvenient and … sorry, Miss Pryor. I won’t waste your time if your mind is made up.’

  Aware that she was wavering, Faith smiled and said, ‘Let me unpack my shopping and we’ll have a cup of tea.’ She had bought a couple of cakes at the shop and she put them out on one of the pretty plates she had found in the jumble sale. As the young woman talked, Faith felt herself warming to her. Perhaps this was a sign that running away was not the right thing to do, but she already knew that. Coward that she was.

  ‘We’re going to have a baby,’ the woman confided, and the impulse to tell her to leave there and then was strong. ‘But I’m sure we’ll find a permanent place by the time he arrives.’

  Faith fought her anxiety, afraid of having to cope with the girl’s situation, comforting her in bad times and congratulating her when things were good. In her imagination she saw a future scene in which she was helping to care for a small child, like the dark-haired little one she had abandoned. ‘Of course you must stay,’ she said, wondering if it really was her voice speaking the words. ‘But before you decide, would you like to see the room?’