by Maria Savva
‘Cara, please.’ He narrowed his eyes at her, as if he thought she’d gone mad.
‘Don’t worry, I only need one tiny lock.’
Frederick placed his hands over his hair as she approached him. ‘Cara, sit down.’
‘Don’t you trust me?’
‘What are you doing?’ he asked again.
Cara noticed the café’s only other customer, an old man sitting at the table by the door smoking a pipe, was watching them. It didn’t bother her. She felt carefree: didn’t have to worry about anyone recognising her here. As she smiled at the old man, he turned away and carried on reading his newspaper.
She snipped some of Frederick’s hair, despite his protests, and returned to her chair.
‘What have you done?’ He touched the back of his head, bemusement written in his crinkled brow. ‘My barber won’t be very impressed!’
‘Stop making a fuss, Freddie.’ Giggling, she placed the lock of hair into the little silver pendant and snapped it shut.
He screwed up his face.
‘What I’ve done is make sure we’ll always be together, no matter how far apart we are,’ she said. ‘I’ll always have a lock of your hair. It’s lucky; it means we’ll never part.’
Cara stared at the tiny strands of jet black hair, battling with the images tumbling through her mind. Closing the locket, she placed it in the top drawer of the bedside cabinet before settling down to sleep.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
It was raining the next morning when Rosetta arrived, so they decided to stay indoors. Rosetta spent most of the day watching television.
Cara had to remind her to fetch lunch, and the young girl was reluctant to budge. When she eventually left the room, Cara switched off the television and hid the remote control under her pillow.
On returning with the sandwiches, Rosetta frowned at the blank television screen. ‘Shall I switch the TV on?’ she asked, searching for the remote control.
‘No, dear, I’ve got a bit of a headache,’ said Cara. Then, catching sight of Rosetta’s disappointed expression, she said, ‘Do you have any brothers or sisters, Rosie?’ She felt obliged to talk to her since she had taken away her entertainment.
‘No, I’m an only child. You’re lucky to have a sister. I’ve always wanted a sister.’
Cara shrugged. ‘You have Mandy. She’s like a sister to you, isn’t she?’
‘I suppose so.’
‘Sometimes friends can be better than sisters,’ Cara said.
‘I just feel sad that I’ll never know what it’s like to be so closely related to someone and grow up with them. It must be great.’
‘Gloria and I didn’t get on well when we were younger. I spent most of my time with my best friend, rather like you and Mandy. So you see, it’s not necessarily better for people who have siblings.’ Cara turned her attention to the view from the window as images of the tree house where she’d played with Beattie flashed through her mind.
‘Maybe that’s true,’ said Rosetta. ‘But if I ever get married, I’m planning to have more than one child.’
‘It is nice to have family around you,’ said Cara, feeling suddenly sorry for Rosetta, sensing her loneliness and isolation. She was reminded of Benjamin, who was always quite a lone figure in their family. ‘Even in bigger families there can be children who don’t get on with the others,’ she said, speaking her thoughts.
‘I suppose so,’ said Rosetta, shrugging. ‘Maybe it’s because I don’t have any, but I’ve just always been secretly jealous of my friends who have brothers and sisters. Although, a friend of mine, Lucy, she’s an only child and she loves it. She says we get all the attention from our parents. No competition. I’m not very competitive though. My friend Edie says that she’s jealous of me because she’s got three sisters and her parents don’t have enough money to buy stuff for all of them, so they always have to share things.’
‘There are advantages and disadvantages to having a large family,’ said Cara.
‘How many children do you have?’ asked Rosetta, after a pause.
‘Three.’
‘That’s nice. Did they all get on well when they were growing up?’
‘Two of them did. My eldest was a little different from the other two.’
‘Do you see them all regularly?’
‘Not as much as I’d like to, but they’re busy with their lives. They’ve all got their own families. I have five grandchildren, and two great-grandchildren.’
‘Wow!’ said Rosetta.
No, thought Cara, I have six grandchildren; Benjamin has a daughter I’ve never met. Tears threatened to fall.
Wanting to unburden herself, she began telling Rosetta how Benjamin left home nearly sixteen years ago and how no one had heard from him since. She explained how his wife took their youngest daughter, Jemima, to live with her in Jersey and she had not seen or heard from either of them in over ten years. She also told her how Penelope fled from her violent husband and took Carl and Andrew to a refuge.
Rosetta listened intently.
Cara managed to tell it all without crying. Afterwards, she worried that she’d revealed too much to this young girl. Somehow, though, it came as a relief to divulge everything to someone who was fully removed from the situation, everything about her sorrow at being parted from her close family. It was as if she’d been waiting for the opportunity to arise so she could release some of the burden.
That night, when Rosetta left, Cara cried. She cried until she felt she could cry no more. She wanted her family together: to know they were all right.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
When Cara woke up on Thursday morning, she felt a sense of unease. Sitting up in bed, she settled her pillow behind her, all the while thinking of her dream. Billy was so young and handsome in the dream; they had been in his car, both so happy, laughing and smiling. Billy kissed her and told her he loved her, but in an instant his face changed and it was no longer Billy looking back at her but Frederick. She’d melted into his deep brown eyes, then she woke up.
She remembered again that it would soon be the tenth anniversary of Billy’s death. Cara visited Billy’s grave regularly with Penelope and never missed the anniversary of his death. She and Penelope made an occasion of it every year: cleaning the tombstone, clearing the weeds growing around it, placing a bouquet of fresh flowers onto the grave.
In an attempt to distract herself, Cara picked up the remote control and switched on the television. Even as she watched the pictures on the screen flickering and changing, her dream remained uppermost in her mind. Why had she dreamt of Frederick?
The locket.
Her intention, on placing the locket in the drawer, had been to leave it there; it was a reminder of a time in her life she would prefer to forget. Now, though, curiosity reared its head.
Hesitantly, she reached into the drawer and took out the necklace. She’d thought it was beautiful when Frederick first gave it to her; she still thought so. Despite the painful recollections, she absent-mindedly fastened the chain around her neck and touched the locket as it lay against her chest. She could not avoid the question that then entered her mind: I wonder if Freddie is still alive.
Their relationship had ended so suddenly. She’d been in love with him and was left not knowing if he’d ever really loved her. His unexpected revelation—that he was married—had torn to pieces all her dreams of their future together; everything she’d hoped and lived for up to that moment dissolved into nothing. Her life moved on, but in a completely different direction.
Long after marrying Billy, she would lie awake at night and think about Frederick, and every so often, when alone, she cried over him. She longed for an answer, needed to know whether—even for one precious minute—she’d been as important to him as he’d been to her. To know this would be to know she hadn’t lived a lie. But she couldn’t ask him—he’d disappeared. Her question would remain unanswered, trapped in the maze of her memory.
The locket was loaded with r
eminders of the past, it seemed, and Cara felt guilty, as if she’d betrayed Billy by putting it on. A gift from another man containing a lock of his hair. She reached behind her neck to undo the clasp, but as she did so, Rosetta arrived. Cara did not have time to remove the necklace, so she pulled her nightdress up higher to cover the shiny locket.
‘Hello, Cara, how are you today?’
Rosetta’s voice brought Cara back to the present day. ‘I’m fine, dear,’ she said, forcing a smile.
‘Are you sure?’ Rosetta asked, as she placed the breakfast tray on the bed. ‘You look tired. Did you sleep well?’
‘Yes, I did, but I had a strange dream, that’s all.’
‘Really? What did you dream about?’
‘Nothing. It’s silly.’ She wished she hadn’t mentioned it.
‘I’ve got a book about the meaning of dreams,’ said Rosetta, grinning. ‘I could find out what your dream meant.’
‘It was nothing, dear,’ Cara said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
Rosetta appeared dejected. She sat down and began switching television channels with the remote control.
Cara felt terrible for upsetting her. ‘It was only a dream about my late husband. It shook me up a bit,’ she explained. ‘When you’re as old as I am, the past can seem like a faraway place and every so often something reminds you of it.’ She instinctively touched the locket, making sure to keep it hidden under her nightdress. ‘It’s all still there in my head. Now and then, I’ll remember an event from the past and I can get a bit lost in it, I suppose.’
‘Like coming back to Huddlesea?’ said Rosetta. ‘I bet seeing the old town again has made you remember a lot of things you’d forgotten.’
‘Yes,’ said Cara. ‘Although, I don’t think we ever really forget, we just sometimes have to be reminded.’
‘So, did you meet your husband in Huddlesea?’
‘Yes.’ Cara lowered her eyes. ‘Yes, I did.’
‘That must be why you dreamt of him then,’ said Rosetta.
‘I do dream of him occasionally. He was a big part of my life. It’s just that last night’s dream…’ Cara recalled the image of Frederick from her dream as the colour rose in her cheeks. She coughed to hide her discomposure. ‘Um… it just reminded me that it’s nearly ten years since he died.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘I usually go to his grave on the anniversary of his death, but this year it might not happen.’
‘Why not?’ Rosetta raised her eyebrows.
‘There’s no one to take me.’ Cara gave a wistful smile.
‘I could take you,’ offered Rosetta. ‘Where is it?’
‘Thank you for offering, Rosie, that’s very kind of you, but it’s in London. It’s too far for you to take me.’
‘London?’ Rosetta narrowed her eyes in thought. ‘What about your children? Can’t one of them take you?’
‘They’re busy.’
‘Too busy to go to their dad’s grave? I’m sure they’d take you if you ask.’
Cara doubted Catherine or James would have the time to take her to the cemetery. They rarely went to the grave and had never gone along with her and Penelope on the anniversaries. They were too tied up with their own lives.
‘Shall I ask Gloria to phone one of your children?’
‘No, dear.’
‘But it would be a pity for you to miss the anniversary. When is it?’
‘The tenth of June. This Sunday.’
Gloria walked in. ‘I’m going out, and I wondered whether you needed anything from the shops,’ she said.
‘No, thanks,’ said Cara.
‘Gloria,’ said Rosetta. ‘Would it be possible to arrange for Cara to see her husband’s grave on Sunday? It’s in London. It’s the anniversary of his death.’
Gloria looked at Cara. ‘I’ll phone Catherine,’ she said.
‘Thank you,’ said Cara.
‘See?’ said Rosetta, smiling, when Gloria had gone. ‘I’m sure you’ll be able to go.’
‘Maybe.’ Cara frowned.
Gloria returned to the bedroom a while later. ‘I’ve phoned Catherine, but unfortunately she’s already arranged to have dinner on Sunday with some old friends she hasn’t seen for a while. It’s too late for her to cancel, I’m afraid, but she did say she would try to arrange to take you to see the grave sometime next week, if you’d like.’
Cara could not hide the disappointment as her face took on a gloomy expression.
‘I did ask for James’s telephone number, but Catherine says he’s away in South Africa,’ explained Gloria. ‘He won’t be coming home until next week. Perhaps you could all arrange to go next week.’
‘Yes, I suppose so; it will be a shame to miss the anniversary, though.’ Cara sighed deeply.
‘Don’t worry, Cara,’ said Rosetta, taking her hand. ‘I’ll ask Mandy if her uncle can drive you to London. They’re going back on Sunday. She’s got exams next week, so he has to drive her back there. He’s coming back to Huddlesea because he’s still got work to do here. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you went with them, and it’d give me the excuse to tag along.’
‘No. No, we couldn’t ask him,’ blurted Cara, in horror at the suggestion.
‘I’ve always wanted to go to London,’ Rosetta gushed, oblivious of Cara’s objection.
‘No, dear, I wouldn’t want to impose,’ said Cara, nervous at the prospect of seeing Benjamin again even though she’d prayed for an opportunity.
‘Don’t worry, it won’t be any bother. We could make a day trip of it. Mandy’s mum, Claire, will be going back too, and little Amy.’
‘I’m sure they won’t have enough room in the car for all of us, dear.’
‘Cara’s right, Rosie, I don’t think it would be such a good idea,’ said Gloria, still standing at the door. ‘Mandy’s uncle is a busy man, you mustn’t ask him. It would be rude.’
‘It’s okay, Gloria, I know Mandy’s uncle; he’s great. He’ll definitely agree,’ said Rosetta.
‘He might have other plans,’ said Gloria. ‘Don’t ask him.’
Rosetta smiled at Cara as if she hadn’t heard Gloria. Her eyes were misty, her head undoubtedly full of dreams of a trip to London. Cara returned Rosetta’s smile, beginning to warm to the idea; at least it would give her the chance to find out what Benjamin had been up to.
Gloria mumbled a few unintelligible words and closed the bedroom door behind her.
Cara was suddenly struck by the idea that Gloria may try to stop her meeting with Benjamin. She’d been so against the idea of Rosetta asking Mandy’s uncle to take them to London.
‘I won’t get a chance to see him,’ she said, almost forgetting where she was.
‘See who?’ Rosetta’s brow furrowed.
Cara opened and closed her mouth, unsure of what to say.
‘Cara?’ Rosetta pushed for an answer.
‘Billy,’ she replied, racking her brain. ‘I meant I won’t see my husband’s grave.’
‘Yes, you will, Cara, you will.’
Cara touched the locket and held it between her fingers. It was a habit she had, when wearing a pendant, to play with it while thinking, like someone might use a set of worry beads in contemplation.
‘That’s a nice necklace,’ said Rosetta. ‘Is it new?’
Cara’s cheeks reddened. ‘What? This?’ she said, holding it out and hoping Rosetta wouldn’t notice her discomposure: ‘No, it’s not new; it’s quite old. I used to wear it when I was about your age, Rosie. Gloria found it and gave it back to me the other day.’
‘It’s lovely.’ The young girl leaned forward to examine the pendant. ‘It’s got your initial on it. Wow, that’s really nice. Is it real silver?’
‘Yes, I think so.’
Rosetta took the locket between her fingers. ‘If you used to wear it when you were my age, it might be an antique.’
Cara laughed. ‘Just how old do you think I am?’
Rosetta blushed. ‘Sorr
y, I didn’t mean…’
‘That’s all right, dear. When I was your age, I thought forty was old.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I am a bit of an antique, I suppose.’ Her hand went up to the locket still in Rosetta’s grip. Much to Cara’s relief, the young girl let go of the pendant.
‘Is there a photo inside?’
‘No, dear.’ Cara covered the necklace with her nightdress. ‘There’s nothing inside.’ She looked straight ahead of her. ‘What’s on television, Rosie?’ she asked, changing the subject.
That evening as Cara settled down to sleep, she felt the shiny silver locket on her chest and reached behind her neck for the clasp, eager to be free of it. ‘Oh come on,’ she grumbled under her breath, determined to banish this reminder of the past. It was no good, she couldn’t undo the clasp on her own. Lying on the bed, exhausted from the struggle, she cursed herself for putting it on in the first place.
Thoughts of Frederick filled her mind, kindled from the ashes of her memory. Her reminiscences surprised her, as did the sentimental feelings that accompanied them.
She decided to try again tomorrow to remove the necklace and put it away somewhere it would remain hidden. Soon she drifted off to sleep, holding the locket between her fingers.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The next day, Gloria entered Cara’s bedroom early in the morning with the breakfast tray. ‘Good morning, Cara, did you sleep well?’
‘Yes, thank you. Where’s Rosie this morning?’ she asked, rubbing her eyes.
Gloria placed the tray on the bed and went to open the curtains. ‘I’ll be looking after you now. That will be nice, won’t it?’ She smiled and folded her arms.
‘W-what happened to Rosie?’
‘She’s no longer working for me.’
‘Oh.’ Cara looked down at her breakfast tray, a sadness in her heart. She had enjoyed having Rosetta around. The loss reminded her of how Penelope had left so suddenly. The changes—people coming and going from her life—were quite hard to contend with. Rosetta hadn’t even told her she was leaving. ‘I did suspect that a young girl might find it a bit boring spending her time with an old woman like me,’ she said. ‘Hopefully she’ll have found a more interesting job.’ She glanced up at Gloria.
