‘What is it, boy?’ Lewis asked, as if Lofty might somehow provide an answer.
The dog sniffed some more.
‘Get away, Lofty.’ The purpose of bringing the dog had been to speed things along, not hold them up. She should be running down the lane trying to catch up with Syd, not picking items out of a bush.
But when Tabitha picked up a piece of discarded paper, the image on it shocked her. It was a perfect pencil drawing of a young child. Every wisp of hair and gurgling feature was captured perfectly. She didn’t need to wonder who was behind the masterpiece because Max was distinctly etched on the corner. ‘This is amazing. Although it would be more amazing if it hadn’t been left as litter.’
‘At least we know where she probably spent the day and she must have gone in a hurry if she left these.’ Lewis picked up the other sketches that had been discarded in the hole. ‘I wouldn’t be able to see her from upstairs if she was snuggled in here.’
‘That doesn’t help me with knowing where they are now.’ The drawing was so vivid, so expertly done, that Tabitha wondered who it was, as Lewis picked up the other pieces of paper and some abandoned pencils.
But Lofty still wasn’t content, bothering the undergrowth with his nose some more. Tabitha wished she hadn’t left in such a hurry and had his lead with her. She’d have to guide him with his collar or run back and get one if he was going to behave like this.
Just as she decided that might be necessary to hurry things up, Lofty’s head popped through the hedge and she was left with half a dog and a wagging tail.
Lewis managed to push himself through. ‘I think Lofty’s located their escape route.’
Those girls weren’t daft and it would seem Lofty wasn’t either. Tabitha followed Lewis, squeezing herself through the gap that led to a hidden exit.
‘Where are they, boy?’ Tabitha encouraged Lofty to use his sense of smell, seeing as it was more intact than she was giving him credit for.
Lofty then trotted back to the Bunk-a-low and sniffed at the front door with an unusual level of persistence. Syd’s window that had been open, was now closed. Could they have…?
‘Why would they just come back here?’ Tabitha asked Lewis, her voice a whisper.
‘To send you on a wild goose chase. No doubt you’d have been out hunting for a lot longer if you hadn’t followed Lofty.’
Tabitha let the dog in, then asked Lewis, ‘Can you make sure they don’t leg it out of the window again while I go and check if they’re in?’
It would be ridiculous if there was any more coming and going.
Before she’d closed the door, Lofty was reporting his discovery with a few barks and sure enough the girls were holed up in Syd’s room. At least the dog had proved himself useful, and earned himself a few sausages in the process.
‘What are you two playing at?’ Tabitha didn’t mean to be angry, but they had to know that behaving like this was unacceptable.
‘We’re just chilling. What’s the problem, Tabby? Seems like you need to do the same,’ Max said, an unlikeable cockiness shining through.
‘I know you skipped school and have been spending the day sketching. Who are the portraits of, Max?’
‘I don’t know what you’re on about.’
Tabitha showed her the piece of paper with her name scrawled at the bottom.
‘They’re old ones.’
‘Don’t play the fool with me. You’re both grounded for the weekend.’
‘Like you can stop us from going out,’ Max replied.
‘I’m going to call Julie.’ Saying it made Tabitha feel a bit silly. Like they were toddlers and she was threatening to call their father if they didn’t start behaving. But even as she said it, she knew she would have to speak with the social worker.
‘Yeah, call her. Tell her you want rid of us. Get it over and done with. You’re just like the rest of them,’ Max yelled.
‘I’m trying very hard not to be, but you have to realise,’ she said with a deep breath, a tear in her eye, ‘you’re the ones trying to push me away.’
Twenty
Then
After the unwanted attendees at Andy’s funeral, Tabitha had requested that the interment of his ashes be a private affair. Although her definition of private would have meant it was just her, not other family as well. That way, if she wanted to buckle and fold and scream at the earth for how unfair life was being she would be able to without any eyes on her.
‘And as we remember the life of Andrew David Sanderson, he’ll want us to recall the happy times we spent with him…’ the vicar overseeing proceedings continued.
Tabitha wished she was able to remember the happy times. But the last twenty-four hours of Andy’s life were plaguing her. She wasn’t able to focus on what was being said. She was focussing on her knees not giving way. She was focussing on the few people here – Andy’s mother, father and sister – the people he was leaving behind. She was focussing on how death had turned Andy into an Andrew: only his Sunday-best name being used since he was gone.
Even the golden plaque on the small wooden oak box was scribed with Andrew. It was impossible to take her eyes off the box that contained her one true love and fathom that the dust in there was all that was left of his life force. It was an ornate chest with delicate edging that Andy’s parents had selected, and while it was perfectly fit for its purpose, Tabitha couldn’t help but think Andy would rather have had something a bit more personal. With the shortened version of his name that he’d always been known by, for starters.
It was hard standing here knowing what was being said and the tasks being performed were more for the living than the dead. Andy would never hear the words being said, they were serving the purpose of comforting the people who remained. Or at least the people able to take them in. They were floating over Tabitha like rain clouds she wanted to hide from when all the while, the small box was lowered into the hole where Andy’s ashes would rest. She was sure her heart was sinking down with it.
Life was supposed to be different. She wasn’t supposed to be a widow. Not yet.
She wished she could grab a handful of his ashes and scatter them in all the places they’d loved. She wished they were like seeds and in planting them, they’d bring him back. That in sowing them in the quarters of the world that they’d loved, she’d be able to capture moments as if they were happening all over again. That by bringing him back in that way she’d feel that she was being held by him once again and somehow his seed would settle inside her and they’d go on to have the family they’d dreamed of.
But that was never going to happen. She was certain of that and the pain of her menstrual cycle seemed to be lingering so much more than it usually would, reminding her of what would never be.
And just like that it happened: her knees gave way. The emptiness inside her took over and her mouth moved to scream, but no sound came out. How could words form when she was hollow?
It was the vicar who responded first to her moment of distress. He was perhaps well versed on such occurrences and recognised the need for support. He helped her to standing and asked if she needed a drink before continuing.
They’d reached the point where they were expected to gather a handful of dirt and place it over the box to start the process of securing its place in the earth.
‘Can I take a minute?’
It didn’t take long for the vicar to find her a seat inside and a glass of water. Tabitha was thankful that Andy’s family remained outside. She didn’t need their sympathy today when this was an occasion for them so that in the future they’d have somewhere to come and remember their son. But Tabitha felt lost here and it was only amplifying a grief that was already so all-consuming.
‘Can I get you anything else? You don’t have to come back out if you don’t feel up to it. I’ll just be saying a prayer for Andrew to finish the interment ceremony. I can say a prayer with you now if you’d prefer?’
‘His name was Andy,’ Tabitha said, opening up h
er heartbreak all over again. It was a silly remark to make, but to her it mattered. Her husband had always been Andy. Why should that change now he was dead?
But it had changed.
Everything had changed.
It took all the energy she had left to return to the small plot where his gravestone would be placed when it arrived. Gathering a handful of soil, Tabitha put all thoughts of planting seeds to one side. The ashes that they were burying held no magic within them. The box wasn’t going to act like a genie in a lamp. Her husband was never coming back however many wishes she made.
This was goodbye. Andrew the son. Andy the husband. He was gone.
And Tabitha needed to work out who she was without him.
Twenty-One
Now
‘So, are you happy to?’ Julie asked. She was sat on the couch, eager for a reply.
‘I think so. Both girls have agreed they’re happy to have a baby here so we can go ahead,’ Tabitha said. It was a surprise to find herself saying it, but it seemed the majority of the house were happy with the decision and that was what she was going with. There was a new life that needed help and she was going to be the one to provide it. The thought filled her with a special kind of warmth.
Just then, Frank appeared, having let himself in. ‘Sorry, love. I didn’t mean to disturb anything,’ he said. ‘I was going to do some more on the back. I’ll go straight through.’
Tabitha’s father had been popping round when he had the chance, trying to do his bit towards the garden. He seemed to be enjoying the chance to get green-fingered that he didn’t have at his retirement flat. Frank had asked for an allotment area in the field, that he’d tend to, and Tabitha had happily said yes knowing that it was a good excuse for them to continue seeing each other regularly.
‘I’m glad you’re here. I’m going to need your help in a bit.’
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ Julie said. ‘I know there’s lots to prepare. I’m so glad you’re able to do this.’ She made her excuses and left, in her usual hurry, seemingly with multiple tasks on her mind.
‘What’s going on?’ Frank asked once they were alone.
‘It’s happening. The foster placement is going ahead. The baby will be here in the next few days.’
‘That’s great news,’ Frank said, pulling his daughter into an embrace.
Tabitha was dizzy with the thought. It was what she’d been working towards and even though she was a foster parent already there was something special about knowing she was going to get to play mum for a baby this time round. ‘It is. Now I need you to help me get prepped, Gramps.’
‘Enough of that now,’ Frank said with a wink.
Stored in the attic of the Bunk-a-low was a plethora of everything Tabitha would need for fostering a youngster. There was a bouncy chair, a high chair, a bottle-prepping machine, a buggy and a baby-wearing sling. She’d definitely over-prepared for a woman who had only been in charge of teenagers thus far, but she’d known it would all get used at some point. She’d promised herself it would. Now she was acting on that promise.
With her father’s help, she got everything out that they thought she would need. There would be some more shopping to do: newborn nappies, cotton wool, wipes, formula, Babygros and clothes in the right size. They should still have time to do that today, ready for when the baby was discharged from the hospital’s care.
‘Hellllloooo?’ the distant call came from the kitchen. It was Syd. Tabitha was able to tell the difference now, Syd’s pitch distinctly higher than her sister’s. She had woken several hours later than the rest of the world.
Tabitha’s head was still stuck in the attic trying to remember what boxes contained what and whether they were things she would need. Quickly she worked her way back down the ladder.
‘What’s for breakfast?’ Syd found them in the hallway and started taking in everything that had been dispatched from the attic. ‘What’s going on?’
‘It’s, erm…’ Words made themselves unavailable to Tabitha. ‘Is your sister awake?’
Tabitha wanted to tell them at the same time.
‘I’m here,’ Max said as she caught up with her sister. ‘What is going on?’ She glanced at the boxes and items littered around the passageway.
‘It’s what we talked about. They need to house the baby in the next few days so she’s coming here for her foster placement. We’re just getting ready.’
‘You’re ducking kidding me,’ Max said.
‘Right. So much for keeping us involved,’ Syd added.
‘I have done. It’s not my fault you were both in bed, I wasn’t…’ Tabitha struggled to form sentences that explained what she meant. They were sticking in her throat. ‘You’re still my priority. But this was so urgent Julie said I might be saving a life by saying yes. Syd said yes and Max, well, you’ve not been talking to me. I had to make a decision this morning, so I went with the majority. I said yes to you and Syd all those weeks ago when you were an emergency, surely you understand better than anyone how important this is?’
‘But what about the whole consulting us before anything happens business?’ Max said.
Tabitha stopped herself from pointing out that communication was a two-way thing. ‘It was the right thing to do.’ It was hard to comprehend why the decision was so easy and yet explaining it was so hard. She was a foster carer. There was a foster child that needed caring for. It was her job to do it.
‘Tabitha is just helping out, the same way she has helped out you two. You’re old enough to understand why without throwing a tantrum,’ Frank said.
‘Who says we’re throwing a tantrum?’ Max said, just short of stamping her foot for good measure. ‘We were told we’d get to have a say in what went on. More fool me for believing it.’
‘You did have a say, so this hasn’t changed that. We’d already agreed and the decision has been made. You can help me get things ready if you like,’ Tabitha said half-heartedly, knowing that chance would be a fine thing.
‘We’re not going to help you. You’re the foster mum,’ Max fumed.
‘And we don’t do nappy changing so don’t even think about asking,’ Syd added.
‘We’re going out.’ Max started to head for the front door.
‘But you can’t. You’re grounded. And you haven’t eaten yet. Have some breakfast,’ Tabitha said.
‘We’ll find something. You’ll be too busy to worry about us now,’ Max shot a look at Tabitha and the two girls went to leave.
‘You can’t just go.’ Tabitha would have rushed to stop them, but she was trapped by the paraphernalia that was filling the hallway.
‘If there’s a baby on the way, we’re out of here,’ Syd said.
Tabitha stepped over the baby bouncer, nearly tripping as she did. ‘You can’t just head out. Spend the day in the garden. You need to learn you can’t just do as you please.’
‘Says the woman doing exactly that. See ya, Tabby,’ Max replied, slamming the door as she went.
Tabitha followed the girls’ wake and tried to see where they were going. Her first thought was the ridiculous hope that they might be going to the field. If they were just heading there to sulk for the day, life would be altogether much easier. Instead an unsettling feeling was washing over her. One that was pushing butterflies into her stomach.
When she reached the garden gate, she was able to make out the two figures hiking down the long lane towards Birchington. They were heading along the route the school bus took them every morning. It would be a good twenty minutes of walking before they got near to any civilisation.
‘Do you want me to follow them in the car?’ Frank asked.
Julie had said to be prepared for the placement as soon as possible. ‘We need to finish getting ready. They seem to be doing this for attention. I need to see how they’ll respond if they don’t get any.’
‘Why are they so upset?’
‘I think they’re afraid of history repeating itself. They’ve been shoved to t
he side in the past. I just hope they realise it isn’t going to be the case this time,’ Tabitha said. She wished they wouldn’t keep disappearing. She wanted them to realise it solved nothing, but perhaps they needed to come to that conclusion without being chased.
Despite that thought, she was still considering following, but she’d left it too long to catch up. The two figures were disappearing further and further into the distance and were soon out of sight once they reached the crossroads.
Tabitha spent far too long staring down Orchard Lane, wanting them to change their minds and head back. Over the past few weeks Max and Syd had become her family. They would always be the first kids she had loved. She’d not realised how much until now.
Tabitha had always considered the loss of her husband to be the worst heartbreak she’d ever suffered. A loss that she wouldn’t wish upon anyone. But here she was knowing that her heart was walking outside of her and she had absolutely no control over what it would do next.
Home, she pleaded with it. Please come home.
Twenty-Two
Then
Tabitha was beginning to sense it forming; the line she was drawing between the past and the future. It was going to be a necessary part of her survival, but there were so many loose ends to tie up it was hard to imagine ever getting to where she needed to be.
All she knew was that she wanted a clean slate. The events of that day had uprooted every part of her life and she had no intention of replanting in old ground. The only connection she wished to keep was the one with her father. He’d been her rock.
And she’d been in need of a rock because it was still there… That picture of her sleeping husband. The man she loved and wasn’t able to wake. She wanted to shut down that portion of her brain, but it was as if the images – those moving, haunting, heartbreaking images – were imprinted in her mind, and it would seem no amount of time was going to fade them.
Everything (ARC) Page 9
