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Other People’s Children

A Story about The Villagers

By Patricia Ainger

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© Patricia Main 2009

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

without the express written permission of the publisher or author

except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

For my mother

The characters and events in this story are the creation of my

imagination – any similarity to real people or events is purely

coincidental … honest.

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Other People’s Children

The Old Farmhouse........................................................................................................ 4

Chapter 1 ........................................................................................................................ 5

Chapter 2 ...................................................................................................................... 21

Chapter 3 ...................................................................................................................... 45

Chapter 4 ...................................................................................................................... 68

Chapter 5 ...................................................................................................................... 81

Chapter 6 ...................................................................................................................... 96

Chapter 7 .................................................................................................................... 120

Chapter 8 .................................................................................................................... 139

Chapter 9 .................................................................................................................... 157

Chapter 10 .................................................................................................................. 175

Chapter 11 .................................................................................................................. 199

Chapter 12 .................................................................................................................. 223

Chapter 13 .................................................................................................................. 241

Chapter 14 .................................................................................................................. 256

Chapter 15 .................................................................................................................. 275

Chapter 16 .................................................................................................................. 297

Chapter 17 .................................................................................................................. 324

Chapter 18 .................................................................................................................. 343

Chapter 19 .................................................................................................................. 355

Chapter 20 .................................................................................................................. 369

Chapter 21 .................................................................................................................. 380

Chapter 22 .................................................................................................................. 400

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The Old Farmhouse

fireplace

utility room

Kitchen

loo

Bedroom bedroom bedroom

bedroom

porch

S

T

a

i

r

s

lounge

Dining room

E

en-

suite

l

oo

s

shower

office

Hallway and stairs bathroom

s

hedhe

d

5

Chapter 1

‘Matt and I are splitting up, Caroline.’ I told her as I help

myself to one of the delicious looking biscuits on the plate in front of

me.

Her reaction to my news is unexpected. ‘I’m sorry to hear that,

Maggie, but frankly, I’m not overly surprised. You and Matt have

always struck me as being more friends than lovers – you just don’t

argue the way lovers do.’ She said in her typically outspoken manner,

‘Do you think you’ll be able to stay friends?’

‘We’re hoping so – it’s all very friendly at the moment.’ I

replied, a little staggered by her comment – I don’t know what I had

been anticipating but it certainly wasn’t this.

‘When did this all come to a head?’

‘The other day – this new job of his has made us realise a lot of

things.’ I replied, feeling something of an idiot … I wonder how

many other people have come to the same conclusion as Caroline. Oh

well … ‘But what I really want to pick your brains about, Caroline is

how can I earn some cash without have to go out to work?’

‘Hmmm. That’s a difficult one. You don’t want to get involved

in piecework, Maggie, stuffing envelopes or anything like that. They

always say you can make a fortune doing it but I can’t help feeling

there must be easier ways of earning a living.’ Caroline said

thoughtfully.

‘I can always fall back on that, I suppose.’ I replied grimly,

sipping my coffee.

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We sit watching her two girls out in the garden while we think

about the question. Caroline’s married to Jim Sykes who works at the

University; he’s a tutor overseeing PGCE students – a nice guy if a bit

vague at times. But that doesn’t matter, Caroline used to be a social

worker before the children came along and is scarily efficient. She

still does a little to cover holidays and the like so keeps her hand in,

so to speak. They’ve got two children – Bryony, who is nearly

thirteen now, and Daisy who is ten – the same age as Duncan – in fact

Caroline and I met at ante-natal classes. The girls are busy re-

painting the climbing frame prior to selling it.

‘I’ve told them they can have the proceeds to share between

them if they make a good job of repainting it.’ Caroline explained

with a grin. ‘It should fetch at least £50 if not more, so they are being

extremely careful about the painting.’

I chuckle with her – the lengths we mothers go to sometimes! I

can almost feel the girls’ concentration from here.

‘Nothing like a bit of incentive, Caroline. But to get back to my

problem, I’m wondering if there might be some mileage in taking on

some more accounts work.’ I said as we again turn our minds to my

dilemma.

‘That’s a good idea, Maggie, though so many people have

accounts packages on computers that do it all for you these days, you

might not find enough to make it viable.’ Caroline pointed out

sensibly. ‘What about taking in a lodger?’

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‘I could … But I don’t much fancy having another adult in the

house. I’d be uncomfortable with a man and the thought of another

woman messing around in my kitchen does not appeal.’

‘A nice attractive young man could be fun, Maggie.’ She said

consideringly and we both laugh. ‘What about fostering? Have you

ever considered that?’

‘Fostering? What children, you mean?’

‘Hmmm … they’re always appealing for more foster parents

these days and they pay a realistic amount these days. Okay, so

there’s no doubt that you earn the money and it’s certainly not for the

faint hearted, but it could be the answer. After all, you’ve got buckets

of room up at your place, Maggie.’

‘But aren’t they always problem children?’ I asked, wondering

if she has got something up her sleeve … you never quite know with

Caroline … but maybe I’m doing her a disservice.

‘Oh no, as with everything, the ones you hear about are the

troublemakers, but there’s loads of kids out there needing foster care

for other reasons. I’ll have a chat with one of my mates if you like

and see what the current situation is with regard to money and all that

if you like.’

‘Thanks, that would be helpful, Caroline.’ I said, thinking about

it. ‘I suppose I could do something like that but I’d have to sound

Duncan out on it first. As it is I don’t know how he’ll cope with the

separation.’

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‘Hmm … he’s a quiet kid and they’re the worst when it comes

to this sort of thing – you’ll have to watch that he doesn’t just

internalise his upset. It’s not going to be easy for him, Maggie, after

all, whatever your relationship may be, you are his Mum and Dad and

for him that’s stability.’

‘I know, I’ve been worrying about it, Caroline,’ I sighed. ‘Matt

did say he’d tell Duncan but that would mean it wouldn’t be until

Matt gets back from his trip and that’s just not feasible. Duncan’s

used to Matt going away a lot but he’s bound to pick up that

something is going on, you know what kids are – they pull it out of

the air. I’ll have to talk to him about it tomorrow when I bring him

back from my parent’s place. Any advice on how I do it?’

‘Just be up front with him, Maggie, As you say, kids pull

things out of the air, he’ll only imagine the worst if you don’t tell him

the truth. He may well feel guilty in some way, you know.’

‘What on earth for? It’s nothing to do with him.’

‘I know that and you know that, but from his standpoint, his Dad

is leaving him and kids tend to see that as a fault in themselves, ‘Dad

doesn’t love me … what did I do wrong … that sort of thing’ – it is a

very common reaction.’ She pointed out.

‘Oh hell, that’s not how it is at all. I’d never have thought of

that.’ I said, revising my ideas on how I had visualised Duncan taking

this. ‘Both Matt and I want to make this as painless as we can for

Duncan. I suppose we’d assumed that, because we’re still as we

always have been, that he wouldn’t be any different either, but now

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you say it, I can see it’s not like that. Oh, well, we’ll just have to

work overtime convincing him that nothing has really changed. After

all, it’s not as though Matt was always around, his job has always

taken him away for weeks at a time.’

‘Yes, but there is a lot of difference between Dad being away

for a week and knowing he’s coming home at the end of it, and Dad

moving to the other end of the country and not knowing when you are

going to see him. Even at the age of 10, kids don’t have an adult view

of timescales, Maggie.’

‘Phew … you’ve given me a lot to think about, Caroline, I knew

it was a good idea coming round to see you.’ I said gratefully. ‘I’ve

got to be going now but I’ll think about the fostering idea.’

‘You do that, they’re crying out for decent foster parents at the

moment, Maggie – you’d be helping some kid who needs a home as

well.’ Said my friend Caroline, the social worker, ‘You’re just the

sort of person they are looking for.’

As I walk down her path to the pavement, I smile to myself.

Caroline lives in a house built roughly where the cowshed and calving

pen used to stand when this place was a working farm. I can

remember as a very small child, standing on the gate watching the

new born calves in what would probably be Caroline’s kitchen now.

I’ve never mentioned this, I don’t think Caroline would appreciate, it

but it always tickles me when I go to visit her.

As I stroll back to the Old Farmhouse, I think about the state of

affairs again … hmmm … It’s not looking as simple as I thought …

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and I’ve got this appointment at the solicitor’s this afternoon … oh

heavens, I expect he’ll want to know my financial situation … I’d

better look out some figures to take with me this afternoon. My

earnings from the accounting work I do and the household bills – he

will probably ask me for that sort of information. I’ll dig it all out

after lunch. Fortunately I am pretty organised when it comes to the

paperwork side of running a home ... okay, so that is mainly because

Matt was never interested in it … so it doesn’t take very long to get

the salient figures printed out.

I carefully fold the papers and put them in my handbag checking

I have the map I printed off from the Brewster Toms’ website.

Phoning up to make the appointment had been interesting. I’ve not

had a lot to do with the firm over the years, only needing to deal with

them when Dad transferred the house to my name, though I did make

a will about that time as well, but had been rather surprised when the

phone was answered in a less than professional manner.

‘Brewster Toms … who d’you want?’ the girl had asked in a

broad Bristolian accent, and I’d formed the definite impression she

was chewing on something.

‘May I speak to Mr Brewster please?’ I’d asked, Dad always

deals with Joseph Brewster – they knew each other at school or

something.

There was no answer, just a click on the line and I heard the

phone ringing.

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‘Good morning, may I help you?’ a rather pleasant if

exasperated male voice had asked. ‘Giles Brewster here.’

‘I am sorry, Mr Brewster.’ I’d replied apologetically, ‘I meant

Joseph Brewster.’

‘Oh that’s all right.’ He’d said brightly. ‘I’m afraid my father

isn’t in the office today, is there anything I can do for you?’

‘I don’t know.’ I’d said, sounding like an idiot and kicking

myself as I realised it. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t sound terribly lucid. I’m

Maggie Jones, your father used to act for my father – Geoff Cooper.’

‘Oh, I see. I’m afraid that Dad has more or less retired now,

Mrs Jones, I’ve taken on most of his clients, though – what is it you

wanted?’ he had explained politely.

‘My husband and I are separating and I would like to talk to

someone about it.’ I’d told him, ‘It’s all quite amicable and we just

want to make sure we’ve not overlooked something which is going to

cause difficulties later on.’

‘I don’t deal with family law myself, Mrs Jones, but one of my

colleagues, Andrew Bates, would be able to help you. I’ll transfer

you to his line, shall I?’ he had offered.

‘That would be very kind, thank you Mr Brewster.’ I’d waited

while the phone clicked and whirred and then another male voice had

come on the line.

Again, I had explained what I wanted and waited while he

flicked through his diary. He said he could fit me in this afternoon …

of course, once I had put the phone down I had realised I didn’t

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actually know where their offices are, hence the visit to their website.

Once I’d printed off the map and directions, I’d looked round the rest

of the site – the photos of the solicitors were rather interesting. Giles

Brewster is a nice looking chap, though he’s losing his hair a bit at the

front … probably in his 40s I should think. It had taken me a moment

to find Andrew Bates … late 40s perhaps? ... slightly tubby if his face

is anything to go by, but he has a friendly smile.

Driving to Bristol for the appointment I think over the events of

the other night. Matt and I had gone out for a meal. We’d gone out to

a restaurant up on the Lansdown and had a very civilised and fruitful

discussion over a rather pleasant meal … but Matt and I have always

been civilised. Anyone overhearing what we were saying would have

been gob smacked! I chuckle to myself as I imagine it.

‘So, Maggie, you are a separated woman now.’ I said to myself

just trying it for size, so to speak.

Doesn’t feel very different to be honest – which just about says

it all really. All in all, it’s working out rather well. That job up north

sounds just up Matt’s street. He’s really excited about it too, which is

nice to see – it has been a long hard slog for him getting this far in his

career and he utterly deserves the promotion. I hope the trip up there

goes well – he’s going to look for somewhere to live while he is

visiting the works over the next few days … with a bit of luck he’ll

find something reasonable.

Funny about Matt and I, we grew up together in Clevedon,

where my parents still live. We’d been mates at school and somehow

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we’d drifted into marriage. It had seemed the sensible and obvious

thing to do. Looking back on it, I don’t think we’d ever been in love,

but we were very good friends and comfortable with each other. Then

Duncan had come along. I had a rough time when he was born and

went off sex completely. It didn’t bother either Matt or I – sex had

never really figured in our relationship much, more something we did

because we felt it was expected of us - and with me up in the night

feeding Duncan, it made sense for Matt to move into one of the other

bedrooms … somehow we never got back to sleeping together after

that. But that was okay, we thought ourselves happy, if we thought

about it at all.

This job coming along really brought things to a head … not

that it is really an accurate description, mind you, anything less head-

like than our discussion last night I cannot imagine. It came down to

the fact that Matt wanted to take this job in Cumbria – and I agreed

wholeheartedly that it would be a brilliant opportunity for him career

wise – but we neither of us considered for a moment that I would go

with him. I remember we laughed out loud when we realised this – as

I said, people really would not have believed our conversation last

night.

We’re both worried about how Duncan will take it though, it’s

all very well for us to see our relationship for what it is, but he’s not

going to see it that way. We talked about it for a long time debating

whether we were just being selfish for the sake of it, but it came back

time after time to the fact that Matt is going for this job and I’m

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staying here – whichever way you look at it, that amounts to

separation. It would be career suicide for him not to take the job –

and apart from that, it is precisely what he has been working towards

for the last ten years. Had I loved him, it would still have been a

considerable sacrifice to leave this house which I love dearly and

move out of the area which has been my home all my life, but I don’t

love him any more than he loves me, and we both agreed that this

would ultimately destroy the friendship we do have, impacting in a far

worse way on Duncan. We shall both do our best to make the break

as painless for him as possible, Matt stressing that he will want to see

Duncan whenever logistically possible.

Sitting in Mr Bates’ office just after three, I give myself a pat on

the back – I was right about the tubby bit. His smile is very friendly

though, just what I imagine would reassure anyone coming in here

with a difficult divorce situation.

‘So how can I help you, Mrs Jones?’ he asked when we have

gone through the usual preliminaries.

‘My husband and I are separating, it’s all quite friendly and we

want it to stay that way. He’s taking a job in the north of England.’ I

explained rather badly.

He asks a few questions about our reasons for taking this course

of action but what I say seems to satisfy him.

‘Do you own property?’

‘Yes, there’s no mortgage.’ I replied, grateful that this is not a

problem.

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My family have farmed round here for generations; my uncle, as

the elder brother, had inherited the farm and the land when my

grandfather died, but uncle’s heart had never been in farming so,

when he was presented with a very generous offer by a developer

wanting to build on the land, he took it, using some of the money to

refurbish the old farmhouse and the rest to feed his gambling habit.

Uncle Bert never married; but he was a keen follower of the turf and,

before he died, he managed to get through most of the cash by

backing the wrong horses. Dad, being the sole remaining close

family, inherited the old farmhouse but he and Mum didn’t want to

move away from Clevedon where they have an estate agent’s

business, so, as Matt and I had not long been married and were living

in a tiny flat in Bristol at the time, he signed it over to me. As he put

it, he didn’t want it himself, but didn’t want to let it go out of the

family. He’s always said he gets more enjoyment watching me living

here than anything else. I’ve always loved the country and, although

the Old Farmhouse is now bordered on two sides by the estate build

by the developer, at the back, it opens onto fields and a little

woodland which I enjoy tramping through. Uncle Bert retained this

land when he sold up – he had a crackbrained idea that, when he won

big money, he would go into breeding racers and would need a couple

of acres for that. Needless to say, he didn’t ever put this idea into

practice and I use the land by letting out the grazing to a couple of

local people who have ponies and need somewhere to keep them.

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‘Is it in your name only, Mrs Jones, or in your joint names?’ Mr

Bates asked, flummoxing me … I honestly can’t remember.

‘I don’t really know, but your firm holds the deeds.’

He calls his secretary and asks her to dig out my deeds and bring

them up.

‘Do you have any children?’

‘Yes, one son, Duncan – he’s ten. He’s staying with me but

Matt is intending to pay whatever maintenance is deemed appropriate.

That’s usually decided by the Child Support Agency, isn’t it?’

‘It doesn’t have to be, Mrs Jones, if you can come to an

agreement between you that is acceptable to both of you and, as long

as you are not intending to claim any benefits and your husband

honours his agreement to pay, the CSA won’t need to be invol ved.

What does your husband earn?’

I feel a bit of an idiot not knowing the exact amount, but give

him what I think is a close ball park figure – he chews the end of his

pen for a moment, and fiddles with his calculator working out what

the CSA, for example, would expect Matt to pay in maintenance for

Duncan. I make a note of the amount so I can tell Matt.

It doesn’t take long for his secretary to find the deed packet and

deliver it as requested and together we pore over the land certificate.

‘Oh good, it’s in your sole name, Mrs Jones. That makes things

easier.’ He said putting the packet back together again. ‘Now, is

your husband intending to pay any maintenance to you personally?’

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‘No, he did offer, but I don’t really want him to, to be honest. It

doesn’t seem fair. It’s not as though we are breaking up against the

wishes of one of us, it is a mutual thing and I’d rather be self-

sufficient. I’ll have to think of a way of earning some money to

support myself, I know that.’ I said. ‘I don’t particularly want to go

out to work – Duncan is only ten and with no family in the vicinity, I

don’t like the idea of him coming home to an empty house, not to

mention the problems if he were ill at any time and school holidays

present a nightmare – I’ve seen some of my friends struggle with that

one.’

‘Hmmm – do have any private income or a job of some sort?’

‘No, not really, though I do oversee the accounts for a couple of

small firms in the village where I live – I’ve brought a note of the

amounts I earn doing that.’ I said, handing him the papers I worked

on last night. ‘I’m going to have to find something to augment that

though – I don’t want to go out to work because of Duncan.’

‘You definitely can’t live on this, Mrs Jones. However, if your

husband pays maintenance at the rate I suggested and you’ve got child

benefit on top of that …’ he scribbles figures on a sheet of paper and

hands it to me ‘that would give you an income of about this. What do

you anticipate your outgoings on the house to be? Not to mention any

car you run.’

‘I’ve brought a breakdown of the utility bills for the last year,

and that includes the Council Tax.’ I said handing that over to him.

‘But I’m not going to manage on this, am I?’

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‘I doubt it very much, Mrs Jones. Then there is the question of

pension rights. I take it you don’t have any pension provision?’

‘No.’ I said bleakly, suddenly seeing this whole situation

rebounding on me. What was crystal clear when I walked through the

door, now looks impossibly foggy.

‘You would have a right to a proportion of your husband’s

pension but, it would probably be easier all round if you could get

your husband to take out an insurance policy of some sort which he

would pay into but which you would collect. We can help you tie that

up securely. That would not only leave his pension in his hands but

give you a guaranteed pot at retirement age. You said he was willing

to pay you maintenance – this would be a very small figure by

comparison.’

‘Oh, I see. Yes, that would make sense.’ I sit back in my seat

and sigh. ‘I didn’t think it would be as complicated as this.’

‘People rarely do, Mrs Jones.’ He said with an understanding

smile. ‘But don’t get too despondent, we’ll sort it out. Have a chat

with your husband about what I’ve said and let me know what you

want to do. The best way of securing both your best interests is for us

to draw up a settlement outlining the basis of the agreement. Do you

anticipate getting divorced?’

‘I imagine so, though it’s not on the agenda at the mo ment –

neither of us has anyone else. We can do that later, can’t we?’

‘Oh yes, if you live separately for two years you can file for

divorce on that basis. It is relatively painless.’

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‘Thank you Mr Bates, you have been most helpful.’ I said

gathering my belongings together. ‘I’ll be in touch.’

Walking back to the car, I go over what he said. On those

figures, I would only just about be able to meet the household bills …

of course I would get a discount on my Council Tax for being a single

person but running the car would be a problem and any extras out of

the question. If I had to make any repairs to the house it would be an

impossible nightmare. Hmmm …I shall have to give some thought to

earning some money. A part time job would be difficult because of

the school holidays, as it is, Mum has only been able to have Duncan

this week because she took some of her annual leave. There’s got to

be an answer … don’t despair, Magdalena, you’ll find a way through.

When Matt rings that evening, I tell him about the meeting with

Mr Bates. Like me, he’d completely forgotten about the pension

question but agrees that the insurance idea would be an easy way out,

saying that he’ll make enquiries about a suitable sort of policy from

his broker.

‘The figures he suggests for Duncan are fair, I think, Maggie.

I’d anticipate an annual increase in line with inflation as well as

something to account for the fact he will get more expensive as he

gets older, wouldn’t you? Now I’ve got an idea what property costs

up here, I can do some sums, but it all looks eminently feasible at the

moment.’

‘That‘s a relief, Matt. I have to say I was a little demoralised

after talking to Mr Bates.’

20

‘I can understand that. I’m a bit bothered about your financial

situation, Maggie, I fully respect your determination to manage on

your own, but you are unable to go out to work because of my son

and I feel I ought to contribute to that. Yes, I know he’s your son as

well, but that’s not the point.’

‘I’m going to have to think about it, Matt, but I do appreciate

your point. If you have any ideas, let me know. Have you found

anywhere suitable up there yet?’ I said changing the subject.

He tells me he saw two properties today, neither of which

grabbed him, but is seeing some more property tomorrow.

Lying in bed, I go round in circles trying to work out some way

I can earn some money without having to go out to work. Nothing

springs to mind.

21

Chapter 2

On waking the following morning, I lie in bed revelling in the

warmth of the duvet, reluctant to commit myself to the chill I know

I’ll encounter as soon as I leave my nice warm bed. This old

farmhouse is wonderful in many ways but warmth is not one of them.

Giving in to the inevitable, I bravely throw back the duvet and,

grabbing my dressing gown quickly wrapping around myself, go over

to the window, pulling back the curtain to see what it looks like

outside. Dawn is just breaking and the sky is pale blue with streaky

clouds – it looks as though it might be a nice day.

The trees bordering the front of the large gravelled area outside

are starting to look bare. That wind we had yesterday knocked most

of the leaves off and they are lying, a golden bronze carpet on the

gravel. There is a flowerbed to one side and I note that it’s looking a

mess – I must get down to clearing out all the dead stuff before it gets

too tatty.

As I go along the hallway towards the stairs past Duncan’s room

I smile a little – he’s staying with my parents for the week and much

though I love my son, it is nice to have the house to myself. The

kitchen is chilly and, as I reach for the kettle, I think again about

putting the heating on. Apart from the open fire in the lounge, this

house is heated by night storage heaters and, although they are quite

effective once they get going, you have to think ahead – no instant

22

heat with them. Maybe I’ll put some of them on very low today, just

to take the edge off.

The house was in a bit of a state when we moved in. Although

Uncle Bert had modernised the plumbing and electrics (thank

goodness), he hadn’t done much to the décor for decades and the

whole lot had to be ripped out. It took a couple of years but, in the

end, we got it as it is now. By modern standards, it is a large house

with four decent sized bedrooms and generous bathroom facilities

upstairs – my bedroom having an en-suite shower and loo – and an

enormous lounge, sensible sized dining room, office, utility room,

shower and loo downstairs. The kitchen is a barn of a room but has

too many doors in it for convenience. I remember we debated for a

long time about whether we should try to relocate some of the doors

but it wouldn’t have made much difference and would have cost the

earth. I would have liked a wood burning stove in here but Uncle

Bert blocked up the chimney during one of his fits of re-organisation

and it just wasn’t possible to achieve that without making great big

holes in the walls which, as they are of stone, would not have been as

simple as it sounds. However, I console myself by having an open

fire in the lounge and satisfy my pyromaniac tendencies with that.

The cat flap clatters and Toby explodes into the room making

me jump. Purring loudly, he rubs round my legs as I reach for a

sachet of cat food to put into his bowl. He falls on the food as though

he has been starved all his life, though his substantial girth does rather

spoil the effect. Toby is a massive and extremely stupid ginger tom

23

whose only thoughts are for food, sleeping and being cuddled. As a

working farm cat he would have been totally useless. I saw him once

lying in the back garden watching a field mouse run across the lawn –

he just lay there! Honestly, as a cat, you let the side down, Toby.

Carrying my mug over to the table, I sit down, ignoring Toby

who is trying to see if he can get some more food out of me by

rubbing round my legs again. As I eat my breakfast, which, in my

childfree state, is decadently late this morning, I go over in my mind

what I have to do today … I’ve got to go and collect Duncan t his

afternoon … what time did Mum say? A quick glance at the calendar,

where I scribble most things, shows that Mum’s expecting me at

about five.

But before I have to do that, I have an appointment to get my

hair trimmed. As it’s a nice day, I decide to walk into the village – it

would be very lazy to drive and I would probably not be able to park

anyway – parking near the High Street is not terribly easy and it is

frequently more sensible to walk than even contemplate driving. It is

rather pleasant walking through the estate, the gardens are looking

autumnal with lots of dusky pink ice plants and the hydrangea heads

dying back slightly. The developer made a good job of this estate, the

houses are a nice mix of big family houses and, more importantly,

smaller, terraced, starter homes. There is not a lot in the way of

affordable property in the village and there are frequently articles in

the local paper talking about this subject and how the council ought to

do something about it.

24

While I peer into the baker’s shop window trying to decide if I

shall be strong-minded and sensible … or if I shall treat myself to a

cream cake, a voice hails me. I turn to see Jane Hammond crossing

the road towards me. Jane is the vicar’s wife - a vivacious, energetic

redhead with a reputation for organising people whether they want to

be organised or not. That makes her sound bossy and she’s not – it

would be more accurate to say that she cares very much about people

and does what she can to put that into practice … even if you don’t

always realise you need assistance at the time. Although I am not a

particularly frequent churchgoer, I have got to know Jane quite well

over the years. Initially we met through the village playgroup, where

I helped out for a while when Duncan was small. There was not all

this red tape about child protection then and it was easy for mums to

be helpers sometimes; there was quite a large group of us going in to

help with various activities once or twice a week - I’ve no idea what

they do about it now.

‘What have you done with Duncan?’ Jane asked after we have

exchanged the usual pleasantries.

‘He’s over at my parents’ place, Jane, being spoilt rotten by my

mother, I expect. I’ve had a few days to myself.’

‘Matt not around then?’ Jane asked.

‘No, he’s gone up to Cumbria. He’s been offered a job up there

and has gone to look for somewhere to live.’ I replied – I know from

past experience that it is hopeless trying to keep any secrets from Jane

25

but, that said, she is not a gossip so I know she won’t spread it round

the village.

‘Oh dear, I’m sorry to hear you are moving away.’

‘I’m not, Jane.’ I answered, registering her reaction to this

rather stark response ‘We’re splitting up. Duncan and I will stay

here.’

‘Oh Maggie, I am sorry to hear that.’ She said in a concerned

voice. ‘Are you sure it’s the only way? Counselling can help a lot at

reconciling differences … have you thought about that?’

‘No, there’s no point, Jane, there are no differences to reconcile

- we’re both quite happy about it really. We’ve always been more

like good friends than a married couple anyway and we intend to keep

it that way. Goodness knows why we got married in the first place -

this is really only a recognition of the real state of things.’ I assured

her as she blinks slightly. Well, I suppose it is not normal behaviour

so her surprise is to be expected. ‘We talked it over the other night

and, although Matt suggested I check with a solicitor that we haven’t

left anything out, I think we have got it all sussed.’

‘Well, that sounds very civilised, Maggie. Have you spoken to

your solicitor yet?’

‘Yes, I went up to see a guy at Brewster Toms in Bristol

yesterday.’

‘Giles’ firm, eh?’ Jane said almost to herself.

26

‘You know of them, then?’ I asked surprised … though why I

should be, is anybody’s guess. It’s a locally held belief that Jane and

her husband are omniscient.

‘Yes, his godmother lives in the village.’

A quick look at my watch informs me that I’m going to be late

for my appointment if I’m not careful. ‘I’d better be getting on, Jane.

I’m having my hair trimmed this morning and Mrs Stubbs does not

like it if one keeps her waiting.’

Laughingly agreeing with me, she disappears into the baker’s

shop.

It is warm in the salon and, while Mrs Stubbs trims my hair, I

watch her grandson, Joshua, playing quietly in his playpen. Joshua is

a good little boy and quite charming, smiling up at all the clients and

gurgling nonsense words as very small children do – I should imagine

that he is very popular with a lot of the local women who come in her

to have their hair done. Mrs Stubbs is full of how marvellous it is

having her younger daughter, Tilly, back in the village and tells me at

great length how Tilly has managed to rent a cottage for herself and

the child. Tilly, working on a perm beside us, glances across good-

naturedly from time to time as her mother enthuses about how nice

Tilly’s neighbours are. Mrs Stubbs is an excellent hairdresser but,

boy, can she talk!

Pleased with my haircut – my hair is very wiry and curls, so I

tend to keep it short as it is impossible to deal with if it gets long – I

amble home feeling very righteous as I resisted the temptation to go

27

back and buy a cake. I have always been active but a predilection for

cakes and chocolate means I am perpetually battling with keeping my

waistline within limits. Now I am heading for singledom again,

perhaps I should work a little harder at that. I’m not planning on

going out looking for a man as such, but if one should come along, I

certainly don’t want to put him off.

I spend a couple of hours after lunch tidying up the flower

border – it takes ages and I fill three black bags. Where does all this

stuff come from? However, by the time I have finished, the border

looks a lot tidier and I am delighted to see that there are some bulbs

coming up in places … are they usually this early or is it another

example of the effect of global warming, I wonder? Getting the dirt

off my hands takes a good bit of scrubbing … the soil is remarkably

tenacious but I succeed in the end. Just as I am putting the kettle on,

the door bell rings. It’s the vicar.

‘Hello, Peter, do come in.’ I said with a smile. Our vicar

doesn’t stand on ceremony and likes to be known by his Christian

name. ‘I was just going to make a cup of tea – would you like one?’

‘Thanks, Maggie, that would be very nice.’ He replied,

carefully wiping his feet on the mat and following me into the

kitchen.

‘What can I do for you, Peter?’ I asked as I fill the kettle.

‘Well, it’s more what I can do for you, Maggie. Jane tells me

that you and Matt are splitting up – I just wondered if there was

anything I could do.’

28

‘That’s very kind of you, Peter. But to be honest, I don’t think

there is.’

‘Tell me about it.’ He invited, so, sitting down over coffee and

biscuits, I relate the tale of Matt and I, how we met and eventually

married and where we now find ourselves.

‘I see.’ He said with a sigh, thoughtfully nibbling on a biscuit.

‘What a dreadful shame.’ Seeing my puzzled look, he went on.

‘Sorry, Maggie, I don’t mean your situation specifically, but just the

state of marriage generally these days. As you say, you and Matt

should never have married in the first place. I have thought for a

long time that marriage ought to be more difficult, that there should

be more advice before people get married … like you, Maggie, so

many people marry for the wrong reasons. I suppose you could say

that it is wanting to make love to your best friend. You and Matt are

undoubtedly good friends … but no more than that.’

‘Do you think we are wrong then?’ I asked, suddenly feeling

guilty remembering my marriage vows.

‘In splitting up?’ he asked, and I nod. ‘No, Maggie, not at all,

that seems to be the most logical solution to this situation – the

mistake lies in the fact that you got married in the first place. Sorry if

that sounds critical, I daresay you had all the best intentions … most

people do. They just don’t realise what it means. Marriage is so

romanticised these days, with the emphasis on the dress, the presents

and the reception … not to mention the peer pressure, all your friends

are getting married and it seems to be the next thing on your life

29

agenda. It’s not for nothing that most fairy stories end at the wedding.

But anyway, that aside - and I apologise for getting on my soapbox,

Maggie, this whole issue is rather a bugbear of mine – how are you

going to manage on your own with Duncan?’

‘I don’t know at the moment. Matt will pay maintenance for

Duncan, which is reasonable, and has also offered to finance me but I

don’t want that. I’m exploring ways of earning some money without

going out to work.’ I admitted. We talk over the options – the vicar

can’t come up with anything I’ve not thought of myself.

‘Well, if I have any further ideas, Maggie, I’ll let you know.’

He said, looking at his watch. ‘But I’ve got to go. Thanks for the

cuppa – if there is anything I can do, please let me know.’

‘Thanks, I’ll bear that in mind, Peter.’ I replied, showing him to

the door. ‘I do appreciate you coming to see me like this – thanks.’

‘It’s no trouble, Maggie.’ He said with a smile, ‘I’ll drop in

occasionally if I may.’

‘Thanks, I’d like that.’ I said. I watch as he strides purposefully

out of the gates, checking his mobile phone for any messages as he

goes. Peter Hammond is a very hands-on, practical priest – I feel a

twinge of guilt … maybe I should put in an attendance at church

sometime. It was kind of him to come round.

As I drive over to Clevedon to collect Duncan, I think about this

idea. If I could get a reasonably behaved child it would not only be

company for Duncan but would solve the money problem. The extra

income would make the difference and, although my outgoings would

30

rise slightly because of the extra mouth to feed, basic expenditure

would not be affected ... after all, I’ve still got to heat the house come

what may. Mind you, I am very awake to the fact that parenting a

child is not an easy option, especially one that’s not your own … it’s a

hell of a responsibility and would doubtless be emotionally

demanding apart from any practical aspects. It sounds heartless

considering fostering a needy child purely for financial reasons … but

maybe I’m just being finicky.

‘Have you had a good week with Duncan?’ I asked, greeting

my mum.

‘Lovely, thank you dear.’ She replied, giving me a hug. Mum’s

nearly sixty now but in keeping with the modern trend towards

youthful appearance, doesn’t look it and still holds down a

responsible job in Dad’s estate agent franchise here in the town.

Apart from that, she and Dad are definitely more socially active than I

am. ‘He’s been very well behaved and a pleasure to have around.

Your father sends his love, Maggie, he’s had to go out on a viewing

and won’t be back until about seven.’

Duncan gives me a hefty squeeze as soon as he realises I am

here – he’s looking well and, despite all I have had to occupy my

mind this week, I have missed him. With Matt being away as much

as he is, Duncan and I have always tended to do things together. He’s

a tall boy for his age and, although he enjoys chasing around the

football field as much as any other boy, he occupies himself

contentedly either on his own or in my company most of the time.

31

While we enjoy the luxury of a chat over a cup of tea, Mum sends

him out to get her evening paper as he has been doing for her all

week; as soon as he’s gone, I tell her what Matt and I are doing.

‘Oh dear, Maggie, I am sorry to hear that. You always seem so

happy together.’ She said worriedly, ‘Are you sure you can’t work

something out?’

‘Oh we could go on as we are, Mum, with Matt living in

Cumbria and me down here but it would be impossible with neither of

us being able to make a real life for ourselves. Friendship is all very

well but there is more to life than that.’ … at least I hope so.

‘I suppose so. How will you manage?’ she said, clearly not

convinced and I tell her what I have discussed with Matt. ‘You’ll

have to get some sort of work, Maggie.’

‘I know, I was talking to my friend Caroline the other day,

Mum, she came up with something which might be the answer.’

And I pass on what Caroline and I talked about. Mum is,

unsurprisingly, sceptical about the idea, giving me dire warnings

about badly behaved brats running wild through my house sniffing

dope with one hand and swigging vodka with the other.

‘No harm in looking into it, Mum.’ I said equitably as Duncan

comes back with her paper.

I stop off in the village for fish and chips – a treat we usually

have at least once during school holidays. Duncan regaled the

journey home telling me all about the cool week he has had with

Mum and Dad, describing in considerable detail the balsa wood

32

model he and Dad are building in the shed and asking if it would be

possible for him to go over one weekend to finish it.

‘Yes, I should think so, Duncan.’ I replied, parking on the

drive. I take the fish and chips through to the kitchen while he brings

his bag into the house, dumping it in the hall. ‘Have you got much

in the way of dirty washing in your bag?’

‘No, Gran did most of it.’ He replied coming into the kitchen

and washing his hands at the sink before sitting down at the table.

The cat flap beats as I put the plates down on the table; Toby’s

come in – amazing how he invariably appears whenever there is food

in the offing.

It is harder than I thought it would be telling Duncan that Matt

and I are splitting up. When I have finished explaining about the new

job and everything he just sits staring at his plate. With Caroline’s

advice in mind, I have stressed that both Matt and I love him very

much and that it’s not any reflection on him that we’re doing this.

Oh heavens … I hope I have got it right ….

‘I will see Dad, won’t I?’ he asked eventually, ‘I mean, you

and he are still going to be friends, aren’t you?’

‘That’s the intention, Duncan. Once your Dad has found

somewhere to live, you can go up and visit. He’s keen for that.’

‘Why are you splitting up, Mum?’ he asked plaintively and

suddenly I find myself wondering if it is such a good idea.

‘Because your Dad and I are only good friends, Duncan, and

there’s more to a married relationship than just friendship.’ I said

33

hoping he’s old enough to understand that whilst at the same time

praying that he won’t want details … we haven’t got into sex

education in any detail with Duncan yet and I’m none too keen on

going into the complexities of married life right now.

‘Has Dad got a girlfriend?’

‘No, we’ve neither of us got anyone else.’ I confirmed, relieved

but wondering what he will ask next.

He picks up Toby and hugs him, the cat purring delightedly and

shedding fur all over Duncan’s jumper.

‘We’ll be poor, won’t we, Mum?’ he said ‘You don’t earn very

much with your work … or will you be going out to work now?’

‘Not poor, no, love.’ I said with a slight smile, ‘Though I’ve got

to work out a way of earning some more money, Duncan, I don’t want

to go out to work while you are still at school so it would have to be

something I could do here at home. I was thinking about possibly

fostering a child. What do you think about that?’

After all, if he is going to be totally anti the idea, there is no

point pursuing it.

‘What … having some other kid living here?’ he said, and my

heart sinks – oh well, it was probably a naff idea anyway.

‘Yes, that’s it.’

‘That could be cool … a boy of about my age, do you think?’

he said with the beginnings of a smile. ‘We could play football

together.’

34

‘I don’t know the ins and outs of it yet, Duncan, but you’d be up

for me making some enquiries then?’ I asked taken aback at his

reaction and feeling guilty that he is apparently so keen to have

another child to play with … is he lonely?

I ponder this thought as he goes off to unpack his bag and start

questioning my parenting skills as they call it these days. I’ve never

really thought about it much, I’m Duncan’s mum and I have always

done whatever I thought best at any given time. It seems to have

worked pretty well up until now. Have I been missing something?

While I wash up the dishes, I go over and over his reaction. Are

we being totally selfish going for separation? Would it be better if we

stayed together? But, then again there is the question of Matt being in

Cumbria – there’s no staying together if he’s going to be up there

anyway – it wouldn’t achieve anything.

I consider again the possibility of selling the Old Farmhouse and

moving up with Matt. Not only would it be a dreadful wrench leaving

my parents – they are not getting any younger and I’m the only family

they have, but I would hate to leave this house. Starting again would

be easier if I loved Matt, but I don’t, I would bitterly resent losing this

property. I can see that, however hard I tried, this fact alone would

gradually erode the friendship Matt and I have and if that goes what

the hell have we got left? No, that’s not a solution. We’ll just have to

work hard at making Duncan feel wanted.

Caroline rings during the evening. ‘Maggie, I’ve got that

information for you - got a pen? Write this down.’ She dictates

35

various figures and explains how the system works. ‘If you’re

interested, they’d be pleased to hear from you. Have you told Duncan

yet?’

‘Yes, it wasn’t easy, Caroline, but, although he’s not happy

about the separation, he likes the idea of another boy living here.

Mind you, I don’t think he’s thought it through, more seeing it as

someone to play football with.’ I commented, ‘Now I feel guilty that

he’s lonely.’

‘You just can’t win as a parent, Maggie!’ Caroline exclaimed

and we laugh ‘But if you want to go ahead with exploring the

fostering idea, let me know and I’ll give you some names.’

Trying to get the logistics straight in my head, I go into the

office and turn the computer on, bringing up the spreadsheet showing

the anticipated figures. I add in the figures Caroline has given me.

Hmmm … not a fortune, but certainly viable. In fact, better than that

because it would still leave me free to earn some cash if I think of any

other way of doing it. Deciding I don’t know enough about it to make

a decision, I determine to talk to Caroline again and get those names

and contact numbers from her.

Duncan and I go for a long ramble over the Cotswold Way on

Saturday – it is good to have him back again. We have a great time

pigging all the blackberries on the hedgerows. I used to collect them

in pots and take them home fully intending to do something creative

with them, but blackberries are not that versatile and there is only so

much one can take in the apple and blackberry line … though I did

36

make some very good apple, blackberry and elderberry jelly one year

which was pretty scrumptious.

Despite my good intentions, the tubs of blackberries inevitably

ended up sitting in the freezer from one year to the next so now we

just regard them as a special treat when we go walking at this time of

year and eat as many as we can manage.

Once we get to the viewpoint, we sit on the bench looking at the

view. The land below us is a wash of autumnal colours – the oranges

and bronzes of the dying leaves contrasting with the slightly muddy

green of the grass in the meadows all overlaid with a very slight haze

– incredibly like an impressionist painting. Over to the right is a

bright red maple, flaming in all its October glory, Duncan points it out

to me, enthusing over the colour of it and I have to explain why the

leaves go that colour … fortunately, this is one of the semi-useless

facts I have picked up from watching nature programmes on TV over

the years. We sit there in a friendly silence, patting a passing dog

who comes to investigate us before being called by his owner and

bounding off down the path.

‘When’s Dad coming home?’ Duncan asked fiddling with a

twig he’s picked up and poking at the mud round his boots.

‘He said he might be home Monday or Tuesday, Duncan. With

a bit of luck, he’ll have found a house up there; I know he’s looking

hard.’

‘This job is important to him isn’t it?’ Duncan asked and my

heart sinks.

37

‘Yes, Duncan it is, it’s what he’s been working towards for the

last ten years. But don’t go thinking that it is more important than

you - he seriously considered turning it down when he realised that it

would mean leaving you behind, but that would have been foolish.

You are growing up now and in few years will be living your own

life.’

‘I wouldn’t want Dad to turn it down because of me.’ He said,

busy with his twig again. ‘We’d have had to leave the Old

Farmhouse, wouldn’t we?’

‘Yes, it would have meant selling it, Duncan, and moving away

from here completely.’

‘We wouldn’t have liked that, would we, Mum?’ he said

looking far at the view before us. ‘You and me belong here.’

‘Yes, Duncan, we do.’ I replied, feeling tears pricking my eyes

at the realisation that he has apparently weighed everything up and

made a decision to accept the situation.

‘I wouldn’t want to move away from here. I’ve been thinking a

lot about what you said last night, Mum. Although I’ll miss Dad, I

can go and see him and that will be okay, but if we moved away, I

couldn’t come and visit here because it wouldn’t be mine anymore …

places are different from people.’

I contemplate my son for a moment, wondering if perhaps the

farming blood has somehow sidestepped a generation or two only to

re-appear in Duncan. My grandfather, who originally farmed this

land, always said it was part of his being and would never have left it

38

– Dad and my uncle never felt like that, though my uncle did work as

a farmer until the developer came along with his offer, but it was only

a job with him. To some extent, I feel tied to the land which is partly

why I took so happily to being a housewife when Duncan came along.

I enjoy pottering around the house, making bread and growing my

own vegetables … come to think of it, Duncan has never needed to be

asked for help in the garden, he enjoys working with the land too.

‘Will I be able to phone him sometimes?’ Duncan asked

breaking in on my reverie.

‘Duncan, you can phone your Dad every day if you want to and

you will be able to e-mail him as well. You are not going to lose

contact with your Dad, I promise you.’

He grins at me, looking younger than his years, then gives me a

hug, ‘Race you to the stile, Mum!’ he cried, chasing off down the

path with me in hot pursuit.

When Matt rings, I tell him quickly how Duncan took the news

and, calling Duncan, leave them to talk. Duncan looks a lot less …

well, haunted, is probably the right word, when he comes looking for

me once he’s finished talking to Matt.

‘Dad’s found a house, Mum. He was telling me about it.’ He

enthused, ‘It’s not far from the football ground and Dad’s suggested

we could go and watch a match when I go up.’

‘Sounds good, Duncan.’ I commented, pleased to see he is

reassured now he has spoken to Matt … interesting, he said ‘when’

not ‘if’.

39

Sunday morning, as I am busily ironing Duncan’s uniform for

school tomorrow – naturally I intended to do this earlier in the week

but somehow I can always find something else to do where ironing is

concerned so it has been left until I can’t actually put it off any longer

- the doorbell rings.

Duncan, playing some game or other on the computer is dead to

the world, so, putting the iron down I go to see who it is.

‘Morning, Maggie.’ Said Fred Plaister with a beaming smile.

Fred owns the land abutting the Old Farmhouse; his family have

farmed here as long as mine, though Fred has diversified over the

years. His wife uses part of his land for her greyhound sanctuary and

most of the rest of it is given over to sheep and beef cattle as Fred’s

family has done since time immemorial, though he also raises turkeys

and geese for the Christmas market nowadays, and has a flock of free

range hens. A couple of years ago, Fred converted one of his barns

into self-contained units which he rents out to some small businesses

– I think he has two or three people up there now. I like Fred and

sometimes chat to him when I go for a wander over my fields – he has

been very helpful a couple of times when my fences needed work.

Not doing it for me as such, but showing me how to repair properly,

which is much more interesting, not to mention useful, from my point

of view.

‘Hello, Fred. How are you?’ I asked, leaning against the

doorpost.

40

I don’t invite him in and he doesn’t expect me to – for one thing,

his boots are covered in mud. - looks as though he has come across

the fields and down the footpath which runs along the boundary

between the housing estate and The Old Farmhouse. He uses that

path for his stock sometimes, when moving them to one of the fields

he uses just down the road, much to the annoyance of one of two of

the house owners who don’t seem to recognise the fact that living in

the country means occasionally you get mud and muck on the road.

‘I’m fine, Maggie. I’ve come to ask you something.’ He said

cutting straight to the chase. ‘You know I rent that field down the

road to graze the flock in winter, well, I can’t do that this winter, Bob

needs it for his own stock. I was wondering if you would be

interested in letting your field – I know you have a couple of horses

there but the sheep wouldn’t interfere with them.’

‘Sounds interesting, Fred, what sort of deal do you suggest?’ I

asked.

‘I was thinking perhaps we could come to an arrangement

whereby I let you have a couple of lambs or maybe a turkey and a

lamb or whatever would suit you.’ He replied craftily, resorting to the

sort of barter that’s gone in farming areas ever since man settled down

and fenced off land.

I like the sound of that, for one thing, I wouldn’t have to declare

it on any forms whereas rent would be taxable. For another, a supply

of free range, organic meat is not to be sneezed at. I have a large

41

chest freezer and, if I’m thinking of increasing the number of mouths

to be fed, a supply of meat would be very useful.

‘I like the sound of that, Fred. How about a lamb, a turkey at

Christmas and maybe a dozen eggs every week?’

‘Done!’ he said, adding generously ‘I’ll even throw in a

chicken every now and then.’

We shake hands on the deal and I suggest we go and have a look

at the land in question together. Quickly whipping into the house to

tell Duncan I am going up the field with Fred, and unplugging the

iron just in case, I grab my field boots and my old waxed jacket and

am soon contentedly walking round the side of the house with Fred.

The horses wander over as soon as they spot us but soon go off again

once they realise we have nothing for them other than a few scratches

on the nose. Together, Fred and I walk the boundary, checking the

fence for sheep-proofness. Despite their well-deserved reputation for

stupidity, sheep can be annoyingly effective escapologists and the last

thing either of us want, is a wandering sheep. There are a couple of

places where the fence needs a little reinforcement but Fred says he

will get that seen to. Once the field is secure, he will bring the sheep

down.

‘What did Fred want, Mum?’ Duncan asked when I get back

into the kitchen and resume the ironing.

‘He wants to put his flock in our field. He can’t use the one

down the road this winter.’

42

‘Cool!’ Duncan said, his face lighting up. ‘I like sheep. Do

you think he’d let me help sometimes?’

‘I’m sure he would, perhaps you could have a word with him

next time you see him and ask if there is anything you can help with

on his farm.’

‘Cool!’ Duncan repeated, returning to zapping his aliens.

I again reflect on the concept that he is a throwback to my

grandfather. Mind you, to be fair, I think there is farming somewhere

in Matt’s family but it is several generations back – funny thing

genetics.

I walk with Duncan to school on Monday morning, not so much

from the point of view of child safety as because it gives me a chance

to talk to some of my friends. Caroline is chatting to Jan outside the

gate, Jan’s little son, Simon pulling at her arm. He’s only just four

and not old enough to go to school yet with his big brother, Daniel,

who is in Duncan’s class. Like Caroline, Jan and I met through ante-

natal classes, though Jan and her family live in another part of the

village.

They greet me and we talk generally about the weather as one

does. Caroline asks if Duncan has adjusted at all which makes Jan

look at me curiously and I explain the situation between Matt and I.

‘Oh, Maggie! How awful for you.’ She said. ‘Still, with

Duncan so young, you’ll be able to screw a decent amount of

maintenance out of Matt for yourself.’

43

‘I’m not going down that route, Jan.’ I replied and she looks at

me as though I have just suggested something indecent.

‘But how on earth will you manage?’ she asked, taken aback.

‘I’ll have to work, of course.’ I replied with a smile – what does

she think I’m going to do?

‘So, Matt’s getting off scot free.’ She said, ‘That’s typical!’

‘No, I don’t think so, Jan. He’s got to start again from scratch

up in Cumbria and misses Duncan a lot.’ I said, reflecting yet again

on how different Jan and I are in our outlook on life.

A few years ago, Dave, her husband, had a bit of a fling with a

woman he met somewhere and Jan had shown a materialistic streak

then which had shaken me, not so much concerned that she might

have lost his love, as annoyed that her ‘property’ could have been

poached by someone else. As these affairs frequently do, it had

petered out and Dave had settled down with Jan again. I sometimes

think that Simon was Jan’s stranglehold on Dave – as she put it at the

time, maintenance on two children would cripple him so he had to

stay put and behave himself.

Walking back with Caroline, I ask her for a phone number in

connection with this fostering business.

‘It has to be that or a lodger, I think.’ I said , ‘At least with

children, I would feel I was making a slight difference to someone

else. Matt thought it was a good idea too.’

‘No problem, Maggie, I’ll run in and get it for you.’ Caroline

said as we reach her house. I wait with Duncan on the pavement and

44

a few moment later she reappears with a piece of paper. ‘Let me

know how you get on.’

‘Thanks, Caroline – I’ll keep you posted.’ I replied, tucking the

paper into my pocket.

45

Chapter 3

When I get back from dropping Duncan at school, I potter round

the house, cleaning the bathroom and folding the now dry washing …

aware the whole time that I am actually putting off phoning about

fostering.

‘Oh, this is stupid!’ I exclaimed … there are times when I

annoy myself. ‘Don’t be such a wally, Maggie, get on with it. They

can’t bite you.’

Feeling slightly nervous, I ring the number Caroline gave me

and explain to the voice which answers why I am calling.

‘Oh yes, Caroline said you might be calling, Mrs Jones.’ He

said in a friendly fashion. ‘So you’re interested in fostering?’

‘Yes, I’d like to know a bit more about it - what is the

procedure?’ I asked.

‘First of all, we’ll come out to visit you, have a look at your

house, ask you some questions, take some references, that sort of

thing. When would be convenient for you, Mrs Jones?’

‘Well any time, really. Is this afternoon any good?’

He refers to his diary and we make an appointment for 1.30,

telling me that his name is Sam Dehaney and that he’ll be bring April

Jeavons with him.

Feeling rather anxious, I spend the rest of the morning tidying

up the house and cleaning. Why I should think that my normal

standards of cleanliness are not good enough all of a sudden is

anybody’s guess. As I walk round the house, doing a last minute

46

check, I wonder what they will be looking for … none of the furniture

is particularly new, though it was good quality when we bought it.

Some of the stuff goes back a long way, coming to me with the

farmhouse and being solid rather than fashionable. I hope that

doesn’t count.

Sitting over a mug of coffee after lunch, I contemplate the

questions they may ask – I am aware that I am looking into this

business from a financial point of view, but lying in bed last night I

thought about the other, more important aspect of it … the seriousness

of looking after a child … being a parent in as many ways as possible,

giving a kid a real home. I think I could do a reasonable job … well,

they can only turn me down …

Mr Dehaney and Ms Jeavons arrive on time and I welcome them

into the house. He’s wearing a smart pair of trousers and a warm

jacket and looks friendly – a little to my surprise, he is black, though

he doesn’t have any sort of accent …. I mentally kick myself for

being so stupid – why should he? He’s a nice looking man with a

friendly smile which lights up his eyes. He shakes my hand; his

colleague looks a bit like a hippy – all uneven hems, beads and

scarves - and she exudes a definite air of disapproval, which unnerves

me a little. I offer them a cup of tea or coffee and they follow me

into the kitchen.

‘I don’t know if you’d prefer to sit in here or in the lounge.’ I

said as I get mugs and coffee organised.

47

‘Here would be just fine, Mrs Jones.’ Mr Dehaney said, sitting

down at the table and getting a file out of his briefcase. ‘No, no milk

for me, thanks.’ Mugs of coffee on the table, I sit down with them

and wait to see what comes next. ‘So, you are thinking about

fostering, Mrs Jones. What made you decide to do that?’ he asked,

sipping at his coffee.

‘Well, I have this big house and need to earn a little so as to

support my son and … um … it seemed like a possible way of doing

that and also helping someone out at the same time.’

Ms Jeavons turns from her apparent assessment of the kitchen,

focussing her disapproval on me and I wince inwardly. ‘You see this

as a way of making a living, then?’

‘No, not entirely, though I have to say that the financial aspects

do matter.’ I replied, annoyed by her antagonism. ‘It just seems to be

a way to solve my problems whilst solving someone else’s at the

same time. I am not a money grabbing profiteer, Ms Jeavons, but

neither am I a well-meaning do-gooder.’

‘What do you understand to be involved in fostering a child,

Mrs Jones?’ Mr Dehaney asked, giving his colleague a quick glance.

‘I don’t know a lot about it … but, I see it as giving a child a

home – a home in the proper meaning of the word, somewhere they

matter, where they are practically looked after … somewhere they can

be at home … but that would include a certain amount of discipline

and training.’ I said trying to put my thoughts into words.

‘Go on, Mrs Jones.’ Mr Dehaney said encouragingly.

48

‘Well, it’s no good having a child staying here as a guest or a

visitor … they’d have to be part of the family, having the same

privileges and responsibilities as everyone else. For instance,

Duncan, that’s my son, he’s expected to do some jobs ... he’s not just

a passenger but an active participator … oh, that sounds very prissy.’

I grind to a halt feeling a fool.

‘No, I don’t think so, Mrs Jones. How does your son feel about

having another child here?’ Mr Dehaney asked.

‘He likes the idea, but I don’t think he’s thought it through to

any great extent, seeing it more as having a playmate than anything

else, but he’s only ten so that’s not surprising I suppose.’

‘What do you mean by discipline?’ Ms Jeavons put in.

She’s been scribbling things down on her pad but I can’t see

what she’s written … she makes me very nervous.

‘Obeying the rules of the house, I suppose. We don’t have

many.’ I put in quickly lest she think I have a massive list of dos and

don’ts. ‘Mainly, it is about being considerate to other people and

taking responsibility for yourself.’

‘Like what?’

‘Um … well, not using something belonging to someone else

without asking permission first … putting dirty washing in the

laundry basket … not lying … basic things like that.’ … maybe

getting a lodger in would be a viable solution.

‘Can we have a look round the house, Mrs Jones?’ Mr Dehaney

asked with a smile.

49

‘Of course, I’ll show you round.’ I answered. ‘This is the

kitchen and there’s a dining room through here …’

As I show them the office and explain that I do a little

accounting work, Ms Jeavons asks how much time I spend on that in

an average day. I end up explaining that it doesn’t work like that –

more on a weekly basis, and that I usually do it while Duncan is at

school or in bed.

I take them through the house, trying to see it as they would …

but I don’t know what they are looking for… Matt’s bedroom causes

comment.

‘Who’s room is this?’ Ms Jeavons asks … her tone accusatory.

We’ve already been into my room.

‘My husband’s, but he won’t be here. The room will be empty.’

‘Oh?’ she said coldly and my heart sank … this woman is

determined to dislike me for some reason.

‘My husband and I are separating, Ms Jeavons, he has taken a

job in Cumbria and will be moving up there in the next week or two

… that’s why I need to do something to augment my finances ...’ I

explained with what I hope is dignity.

Again, she scribbles something on her pad.

‘Is there a garden, Mrs Jones?’ Mr Dehaney broke in.

We are standing in the upstairs hallway and I point out the

extent of the garden through the window. ‘And the field’s mine as

well. Though a local farmer is going to graze his sheep there this

winter.’

50

More frenzied scribbling …

‘You have a nice vegetable plot there, Mrs Jones.’ Mr Dehaney

commented and, as we go downstairs, I tell him how successful I was

with my tomatoes this summer. He seems interested.

As we settle back in the kitchen, I offer them some more coffee

but Ms Jeavons turns it down for both of them, pointedly looking at

her watch. Mr Dehaney passes some papers across the table to me.

‘If you could fill these in please Mrs Jones, just so that we can

carry out the necessary checks and searches, then we can get you

properly processed.’ Mr Dehaney said. ‘If they come out clear, we’ll

be in touch again. Thank you for showing us round. It has been nice

to meet you.’

Slightly stunned, I show them out … does this mean that they

think I’m suitable or not? I don’t have the nerve to ask them. Going

back into the kitchen to clear away the mugs, I glance through the

forms … crikey! They don’t want to know much, do they? Mother’s

maiden name and place of birth … heavens! Leaving them on the

table, I get ready to walk down to the school to meet Duncan.

I bump into Caroline on the way down the road and tell her

about this afternoon.

‘Who came out to see you, Maggie?’ she asked as we wait to

cross the road.

‘A Mr Dehaney and a Ms Jeavons ... he was lovely but I got the

impression she disapproved of me for some reason.’

51

‘Oh Sam Dehaney’s a good guy.’ Caroline commented, ‘I

wouldn’t worry about April Jeavons though, she’s got a bee in her

bonnet about middle class people, Maggie, she’d disapprove of you

on principle. Daft really, her dad’s a bank manager. That said,

though, she’s very good at her job.’

‘I’ve got to fill in a load of forms now, Caroline, I had a quick

glance at them before I came out – they look gruesome.’ I

complained and she laughs commenting on the ubiquitous red tape

you find everywhere these days.

After dinner, while Duncan talks to his dad on the phone, I settle

down to fill in the forms … it takes two hours and involves a

considerable amount of hunting through my memory and the file of

important documents I keep in the office, but in the end I complete

them all, sign on the dotted line and put them on one side to post on

the way to school in the morning. I didn’t like to say to Caroline that

I didn’t reckon much to my chances but, as I lie in bed, I try to work

out what it would be like having a lodger here … maybe a man

wouldn’t be too bad. After all, Matt has been little more than a lodger

when all is said and done. On that thought, I turn over and snuggle

down to sleep.

Matt comes back on Tuesday full of enthusiasm for both the

new job and the house he has found to rent. Once he’s got used to

living up there, he is aiming to buy a property of some sort but at the

moment he has little idea of the area. He spends an hour with Duncan

while I plough through some of Dave Fielding’s accounts. Dave runs

52

the garage in the village and is reckoned to be reliable if you want

your car repaired or MOT’d. He’s not so reliable when it comes to

running his accounts though, and tends to dump a bagful of scraps of

paper on me once a week, expecting me to sort it all out for him. I’ve

been doing his accounts for about five years now so am used to this,

but it sometimes takes some working out – not least deciphering his

writing.

‘How’s it going, Maggie?’ Matt asked coming into the office.

I look up blankly from my task of trying to work out if Dave had

written a 5 or 3 on this particular bill. More than grateful for the

interruption, I ask Matt’s opinion on the dilemma I have in front of

me … after looking at the figures in question for a moment, Matt

decides that it’s definitely a 5.

‘That’s what I thought – thanks, Matt.’ I said putting the paper

down. ‘Apart from that, I had a visitation from the social services

yesterday afternoon.’

‘Sounds nasty.’ He commented with a smile, perching himself

on the other chair in here. ‘How did it go?’

‘I don’t know to be honest, Matt. There were two of them – a

Mr Dehaney and a Ms Jeavons – he was friendly but she just sat there

disapproving of me. I showed them over the house . .. your room

caused a comment from Ms J. and I had to explain about that, which

didn’t improve things much. But they left me with a load of forms to

fill in so I did those last night and posted them this morning. I don’t

53

know if they’ll accept me though, in fact I have been thinking it

would be more sensible to get a lodger.’

‘I wouldn’t write off the idea of fostering, Maggie. Wait until

they come back to you.’ Matt said encouragingly.

‘When do you think you will be moving your stuff up to

Cumbria, Matt?’ I asked changing the subject.

‘I’m intending to shift it next Friday, Maggie, I’ll get it all

packed this week. I thought we could go over to the solicitors and get

the legal side of things sorted out before that – do you think we could

do that?’

‘I don’t know, I’ll call my solicitor tomorrow.’ I answered,

packing up my work. ‘Let’s go and talk somewhere more

comfortable – I’ve got a bottle of wine somewhere.’

We move into the lounge and make ourselves comfortable. I

tell him about the vicar’s visit and his point of view, discussing why

we had got married in the first place.

‘I reckon he could have a point, you know, Maggie.’ Matt said

thoughtfully, ‘If we’d had any advice or counselling, I doubt we’d

have got married.’

‘I suppose you’re right, but it’s a bit late to worry about that

now … anyway, I wouldn’t be without Duncan … and we’ve had

some fun times over the years too.’

‘Hmmm – I’ll drink to that.’ My friend Matt said, raising his

glass and we grin at each other.

54

It’s nice having him here but it’s like having a friend to stay for

the weekend … not what a husband should be ... at least so far as I am

led to believe. Sad really.

‘So your parents have taken it reasonably well.’ He commented

at one point. ‘I called in on my dad on the way back down and told

him about it – he hit the ceiling initially but calmed down in the end.

I stressed that he’d still get to see Duncan just as much – I hope that’s

okay with you. He sent you his love, by the way.’

‘Of course it is, Matt – don’t be daft!’ I replied ‘As far as I can

see, our task is to make this as painless for Duncan as we can and

stopping him seeing his Grandad certainly wouldn’t help with that.

Did Duncan say much to you about it all?’

‘Hmmm … he didn’t seem overly worried when we discussed it,

so it looks as though you did a good job of explaining things to him –

thanks, Maggie. I felt a bit rotten when I thought about it, leaving you

with the job of telling Duncan. It can’t have been particularly easy.’

‘No, but I had a chat with Caroline beforehand and she gave me

an idea of the problems Duncan might have with it which helped.

More wine, Mr Jones?’

We sit up quite late talking about all sorts of things as the level

in the bottle slowly sinks.

Matt starts organising his belongings on Wednesday – but apart

from his CD collection and his books, there isn’t a lot – a few items of

furniture which mean a lot to him … his grandmother’s rocking chair.

I’ve said I’ll hang on to that for him until he comes down next time –

55

he won’t have room in his car for that as well as everything else. It

helps that we’ve had separate rooms for so long, making the question

of bed linen and towels so much easier to resolve – Matt will just take

the stuff he has used for years, though I do insist that he takes some

extra towels just in case he has visitors. I also turn out some kitchen

stuff and crockery for him – we have more than I need. At least he’ll

be able to cook himself a meal.

We go to see Andrew Bates on Thursday afternoon – Caroline

has very kindly said she’ll collect Duncan from school if we are not

back in time. You never know with the traffic between here and

Bristol, and the last thing I want is for Duncan to be left hanging in

mid air not knowing where we are.

Mr Bates starts by suggesting that Matt gets his own legal

representation and points out that he cannot act for both of us.

However, once we begin talking about the practicalities, I think he

realises that we are both singing from the same hymn sheet and

although he regularly comments that Matt should get his own solicitor

to check on something we’ve agreed, it is very much an automatic

comment.

At the end of an hour, we have thrashed out an agreement which

seems to cover all the points, protects both Matt and I and meets with

everyone’s approval. The house, all it’s maintenance and upkeep is

mine, with me having sole responsibility – Matt is not claiming

anything in that respect though he does remind me that I’ll need to

remember to change the insurance when it’s renewable. Matt agrees

56

to pay a proportion of his salary into my bank account as maintenance

for Duncan with the figure being tied to inflation and taking account

of the increased costs as the boy gets older. As he said on the phone,

Matt has spoken to his broker and between them they have come up

with a policy which will compensate me for the loss of pension rights.

Andrew Bates goes over that with a fine toothcomb looking for any

possible problem but has to concede that it is all as he would like it

for me. There is almost a festive feel to things in his office and, as we

get up to leave, he shakes hands with both of us.

‘I have to say, this has been one of the most pleasant sessions of

this kind I have known in my entire career.’ He said, grinning at us.

‘You are to be congratulated – I have to say I was sceptical when you

told me it was an amicable arrangement, Mrs Jones, but you were

right. But down to practical matters, I’ll let you both have a copy of

the agreement when it has been engrossed. If you will both sign and

return it to me, I shall arrange for copies to be sent to you for you to

keep and store the originals in our strong room. Good luck with the

new job, Mr Jones.’

‘He’s a nice guy.’ Matt commented as we walk back to the car,

‘I liked the way he was checking everything on your behalf. It makes

me feel happier about the whole thing.’

‘Surely you haven’t been worrying about it?’

‘Not about the sense of us splitting up, but I have been

wondering whether I am leaving you with an unfair burden, Maggie.

57

If at any time you need some cash, you will tell me won’t you? My

big worry is that you will struggle.’ He said as we get into the car.

‘Okay, if I have a major problem I’ll let you know. But you’re

having to start all over again, Matt, and that’s not going to be

particularly painless.’ I pointed out as I put on my seat belt.

‘Yes, but it’ll be easier for me, especially with the relocation

package the firm have given me, and also I don’t have to worry about

babysitters and the like. You mustn’t just sit at home and vegetate,

Maggie. You’ll have to make some sort of social life for yourself.’

He replied, signalling and waiting for a bus to go past before he can

pull out.

‘I’ve got lots of friends in the village, Matt. I’m sure I’ll sort

something out.’

By the time he pulls up outside the school, we have started

talking about possible social activities which I could take up … his

tongue in cheek suggestion that I could always try line dancing (a

particular anathema of mine) causing great hilarity and I am still

chuckling as I stand waiting for Duncan to appear.

It’s strange helping Matt load his possessions into the car.

Fortunately his current company car is an estate with a phenomenal

capacity – barring the rocking chair, which will stay with me until he

next comes down, we manage to get all his stuff inside. Several times

during the morning, we both comment on how odd it is that we

neither of us is devastated by this, we’re both sad that we aren’t going

to be sharing a house any more, but it’s no more than that. As he

58

points out as we have coffee together, this really does underline the

fact that our marriage is non existent.

I watch him drive away, sorry to see him go but by no means

overwhelmingly so, and quite contentedly go inside to finish off

Dave’s accounts.

As I walk down to school to collect Duncan, it dawns on me that

that was the real end of my marriage. A line I read once in a poetry

class comes back to me … something about not with a bang but a

whimper. How apt.

I take Duncan over to Clevedon on Saturday morning so he and

Dad can finish off their project and spend the rest of the day moving

things around the house to compensate for the gaps left by Matt

removing his belongings and giving his old bedroom a thorough

clean. By the time I have to dash back to Clevedon to collect Duncan,

you would hardly know that Matt had ever lived here.

When I get back from dropping Duncan at school on Monday I

feel rootless.

The weather is continuing to be fine and, after an abortive

attempt at housework, I decide to go and tidy up the vegetable patch

in the hope that the manual labour will settle my emotional state. It

works … I find it therapeutic working in the garden and my mood

lifts as I dismantle the row of runner beans. The plants are dead now

and I busy myself cutting them down and disentangling them from the

poles; it takes some time and effort as the now defunct bean plants are

unbelievably tenacious in their grip. Then I have to heave the trailing

59

and ungainly plants over to the compost heap, but once I’ve managed

that, I pull up the poles, tie up them up and stack them tidily in the

shed for next year – job done!

I've left the roots in the ground to dig in but decide that this is a

good point to go and grab a coffee before I start on that. We'll be

getting some rain soon, I have no doubt, and then the ground will

become claggy and impossible to dig, so I'd better do it today. Oh

well … when I’ve had a coffee.

Leaving my muddy boots outside the back door, I pad into the

kitchen in my socks and wash my hands before putting the kettle on.

What's the time? Ten fifty … hmmm. Nibbling on a biscuit while I

wait for the kettle to boil, I ponder on why I am so irritated by Ms

Jeavons' attitude to me. It is silly to allow that to get to me. I've

never really thought of myself as middle class, but I expect, like

everything else, it is a matter of viewpoint. Okay, so I own the house

but that is through my family and they were working farmers …

Matt’s a manager and we've had a pretty good lifestyle over the years,

though we have never gone in for expensive foreign holidays … I

wonder if that counts? I've never really been given to introspection

much and this episode, with someone else judging me and plainly

finding me wanting, has stopped me in my tracks. It's not that I

expect people to like me automatically, but to dislike me before she

met me, on the strength of the house I live in … that is unfair. I

suppose that is why it grates.

60

Sipping my coffee, I stroll over to the back door and, resting my

mug on the ground, put my boots back on. The trees are nearly bare

of leaves now and there is a definite autumnal feel to the air. I’m glad

of my thick jumper.

Life has been fairly unchallenging up until now … not that it's

particularly challenging at the moment for that matter … well, not by

some standards … I grew up in Clevedon in a comfortable house;

school was okay - I wasn't a particularly high flyer but neither did I

struggle and the memories I have are of happy, carefree days most of

the time. I belonged to a circle of friends which included Matt and we

had a lot of fun over the years, rarely doing anything outside the

group. From this standpoint it looks rather boring … I never went out

binge drinking or trying drugs, I didn't get involved with underage sex

either, as one is led to believe virtually all teenagers do these days …

just pootered along really.

Matt and I drifted from friends to boyfriend and girlfriend and

then into marriage … it seemed a natural progression. In the same

way, I'd drifted from school into college, taking a qualification in

accounting. I’ve always liked the way that numbers behave and find

it very satisfying working with spreadsheets so, when Duncan came

along, it made sense to keep my hand in by doing the accounts for

Dave Fielding at the garage and Carrie Potter who runs a child

minding service and is virtually (and scarily) innumerate. Not a vast

amount of work, but it brings in a few pennies. But enough of this,

Maggie, get on with that digging.

61

Leaving my empty mug on the doorstep, I go over to the shed

and disentangle the fork from the coils of the garden hose … I don't

know how the wretched thing always manages to get entwined around

whatever implement I want to use, but it does. Yet again, I coil it up

and hang it on the hook where it belongs. I can only assume that

Duncan must have dislodged it when he last got his bike out …

Starting at the far end of the row, I systematically dig over the

ground, breaking up the roots of the runner beans and picking out any

weeds I find, throwing them in the bucket I have beside me. I had a

hell of a time when we first moved in here - Uncle Bert had not been

much of a gardener and although he used to put in a few rows of

potatoes, he hadn't done much in the way of serious weed control for

some time and it took me a couple of years of hard slog to get rid of

the dandelion roots and the bindweed. The ground elder still gives me

a bit of hassle but I systematically pull up any I see and am gradually

winning the war.

Wrenching at a particularly stubborn root of ground elder which

I have discovered, I find myself thinking of April Jeavons again …

you idiot, Maggie - it's not important what she thinks. It's just

annoying that I might not be able to do this fostering business merely

because she doesn't like the fact I don't work full time and have a big

house to live in … okay, so I've not come up against prejudice before

and it rankles. Consider yourself lucky, Maggie … so many people

have to deal with prejudice on a daily basis. I bet Mr Dehaney comes

in for some of that … funny how I was so surprised by Mr Dehaney

62

being black … I suppose I’d based my picture of him on how he

sounded on the telephone; the fact that he doesn’t have any sort of

accent making me think he was white … I hope it didn’t show that I

was a little taken aback, I’d hate him to think I was in any way

prejudiced.

I really must get my head round the idea of a lodger … how

does one go about it? Putting a card up in the local shop? Or would it

be better to put an ad in the paper. I'd have to throw in meals … it

would be impossible having someone else cooking in my kitchen . ..

and probably laundry ... that wouldn't be so bad … as a teenager I

worked part time in a local hotel for several summer seasons –

tourism being the only local trade offering students work, so I know

about ‘housekeeping’ from that point of view, but what sort of person

would want a room and facilities like that? It would have to be a

man, I suppose, though that is a sexist remark … lots of men can cook

and look after themselves these days – Matt for one - equally, I

imagine there must be women who can't or don't want to. Don't know

that I would want a woman who wasn’t domesticated … oh dear, this

is very complicated.

Life’s been plain sailing to date - and since Duncan was born, I

have enjoyed what, I am now realising, is a fairly privileged lifestyle.

I have always enjoyed being a homemaker but, in addition to that, I

got involved in helping out at playgroup when Duncan was small and,

until all this red tape came in, also at the primary school going a

couple of afternoons a week to hear the children read. Okay, so some

63

of the time I am looking for something to occupy myself as I don't

like to be idle, but over the years I have taken up various crafts and

learned skills – working hard at achieving a high standard in them …

I am very proud of the wall hanging I designed and wove a couple of

years ago – it may not be perfect, but I’ve seen worse on sale in shops

at very high prices. I'd like to have a bash at spinning and dyeing

wool at some stage … maybe I could have a word with Fred and see

what he does with his shearings - I've got a spinning wheel in the back

of the garage which we picked up at a sale a few years ago, but I've

never done anything with it. It would be interesting to make some

natural dyes and wouldn't have to cost very much.

I really must give some thought to what I am going to do

socially. Up until now, my social life has largely revolved round the

couples we know - Caroline and Jim, Jan and Dave, Matt’s work

colleagues, a few old friends from Clevedon days - though we have

always participated in the activities of the school PTA and I am on the

fund raising committee for the school … ironic, when you think about

that. I need to do some fund raising for myself at the moment … can't

really hold a car boot sale in aid of Maggie Jones' upkeep. I smile at

the thought …

Straightening up and flexing my back for a moment, I look back

to see how far I have got so far … about halfway down the row. Still,

it was worth it growing the beans. This was a good year for them and

I now have several bags of beans in the freezer which will help reduce

my food bills over the coming months.

64

Leaning on the fork, I look over the rest of the vegetable plot.

The cabbages are looking rather lacy round the edges, though

the inner leaves will be okay - those blasted caterpillars! But at least

the slugs haven't been so bad this year. That fabric stuff I laid all

around the outside of the plot seems to have worked - it cost a bit and

was a chore checking that it met up without any gaps but was worth

it. No idea how it works, but it's a relief not to have to scatter pellets

everywhere; I don't like the impact they have on the local birdlife.

The sprouts are disappointing this year, though … not sure why

they didn't come on, must have been a dud year for the seeds. That

happens. Could be worse.

The potato crop was decent and I have a satisfying couple of

sackfuls in the shed - the rain earlier in the season certainly helped

there. I'll have to give some thought to what I am going to grow next

year, I suppose.

Come on, enough standing around, Maggie, finish digging this

over!

By lunchtime, I have finished the row and, cleaning off my

tools, I stack them in the shed and thankfully … if stiffly … go into

the house, leaving my boots outside. I'll have to clean them off and

stash them in the shed, but not right now.

So what are you going to do for a social life, Magdalena, my

girl? Flicking through the local paper while I munch on my

sandwich, I seek inspiration. What is there … dancing classes … no,

don't much fancy that. Never was much of a one for that sort of

65

thing. Of course, having two left feet doesn't help. Lots of concerts

on but that isn't going to be a way of meeting people … drama group

… that's a vague possibility … but it would have to be a regular

commitment and I don't know that I want to be that tied, let alone the

fact that I get dreadful nerves stepping out in front of an audience … I

could help behind the scenes, perhaps, though it could be difficult

getting a babysitter on a regular basis.

Oh this is difficult! What do people of my age do to meet other

people?

There are a couple of ads for dating agencies … don't know that

I want to go down that route. I'm not exactly looking for a romantic

attachment … am I?

I consider Caroline's comment the other day. If Matt and I have

only ever been good friends, have I ever been in love? I think back to

the time when we had a sex life … hmmm ... not exactly exciting …

more comfortable than anything else … but that's what life with Matt

has always been … comfortable. You read so much about sex in

magazines these days but I've never really thought about it in terms of

me … maybe I'm undersexed or something. Is that a bad thing? I

wonder how Matt feels about that aspect of things … has he ever

jumped into bed with other women? Heavens, the things I am

considering these days!

Shall I have a piece of fruit cake or not? No, I ought to give

some thought to my waistline … which more or less answers the

question doesn't it. Go on, admit it, Maggie, you'd like some male

66

company … so where I am going to find it? I wonder if Matt is

going through this … it’s easier for him to some extent, he can just

go down to the pub for a drink and get chatting to the blokes or

women down there. I can just imagine what would be said in the

village if I started frequenting the local pub … I’ve never had to do

this before, there was always Matt. Apart from that guy who got off

with me when were at that disco … I was in the sixth form by then …

he'd cut me out from the group and we'd ended up outside having a

snogging session … come to think of it, that had been rather good …

apart from that, I don't think I've ever kissed anyone other than Matt

… and I haven't done that for years, well not passionately anyway. It

says a lot that you still remember a brief groping session behind the

disco nearly twenty years ago …

Oh, Maggie, you have got to get yourself together! Here you

are 35 years old and never been in love!

The Bath Institute looks interesting – they’re advertising a series

of lectures on all sorts of subjects … surely they get lots of people

going to those. Anything which grabs me? Hmmm … I wonder …

that one looks interesting … a lecture on Jane Austen and how her

books have influenced modern literature. I like Jane Austen's books

… I had an inspired teacher at school who was batty about good

literature and introduced me to several of the classics. When is this

lecture … a couple of weeks' time .. Well that gives me a chance to

find a babysitter at any rate. I scribble the details on the calendar - I

haven't got a hope of remembering them otherwise.

67

Matt said I should let the school know about our change of

status. I'd not thought of that, but he’s right – I’d better call in at the

school office sometime and have a word with Sally Richards, our

school administrator, she'll know what I ought to do, there may be

some form or other I have to fill in. Sally's always been very helpful

when I've needed help with the photocopying for the PTA, I'm sure

she'll know what to do. I must remember to do that.

I go upstairs to clean up generally and change out of my

gardening clobber before walking into the village to collect Duncan

from school, and as I glance out of the window in the bathroom, I

notice that Fred has moved his lambs into the field and stand for a

moment watching the beasts. Silly creatures, sheep. The horses don't

seem to mind the invasion though. I rang their owners to let them

know what was going on the other day, they aren’t bothered, and

promised to be careful when they visit. They sometimes bring their

dogs over and will have to watch them to make sure they don't worry

the lambs.

Just as I am leaving the house I hear the phone going, for a

moment I hesitate, if I go back now I'll be late … no, the

answerphone will pick it up. I don't want to be late for Duncan, he

worries at the best of times and at the moment that would not be

beneficial.

68

Chapter 4

As it happens, Sally Richards is busy on the phone when I pass

the window of the school office - I'll catch her some other time.

Duncan is quite perky when he comes out, which is not unusual for

him - he's a contented child most of the time - but I am being more

paranoid at present, looking for signs that he is worrying or

something.

We walk back with Caroline and Daisy.

'Have you heard anything from Sam Dehaney yet, Maggie?'

Caroline asked as we wait for the crossing lady to stop the traffic and

wave us over the main road.

'No, I don't think I am going to, as a matter of fact. That Ms

Jeavons really didn't like me.'

'They can't afford to turn someone like you down, Maggie,

you've got so much going for you.' she said after giving this comment

some thought, 'I'd have welcomed you with open arms.'

'That's sweet of you, Caroline.' I said with a smile and we walk

along the road in silence for a while, 'I'm beginning to think about

advertising for a lodger. D’you reckon I'd be better off putting a card

in the post office or advertising in the paper?'

'Hmmm …. Don't know. I'll have a think about it.' she replied

as we reach her driveway 'See you in the morning, Maggie.'

'Fred's put the lambs in the field now, Duncan.' I said as we

continue on our way.

'Oh great! Can I go and look at them?'

69

'I don't see why not. You'll have to put your field boots on,

though. I don't want your school shoes covered in mud and sheep

droppings. In fact, you'd better change out of your school uniform if

you are going out in the field.'

In the end, I go with him … I'd like to see these lambs too. The

sky is clouding over now - looks like I just got that digging done in

time - and the wind is starting to get up a little. A couple of the lambs

come over to see what we are and Duncan strokes their soft, greasy

fleeces. We trudge up the field trying to avoid the sheep poo – as my

son so delicately calls it - Duncan counting the lambs as we go - but

by the time we get to the far end of the field, it is drizzling slightly

and, speeding up our pace slightly, we turn back to the house.

'Can I play on the computer, Mum?' Duncan asks when we get

back inside.

I can see I am going to have to start putting newspaper down for

outside boots now ... in the winter I tend to have a thick layer by the

back door so that boots can be stood on it. It helps enormously in the

seasonal battle against mud.

'Yes, love, of course you can, but only until dinner time.'

Toby speeds through the cat flap. He hates the rain and takes it

as a personal affront if I don't actually arrange for it to be dry when he

wants to go out. Whenever it is raining, we go through the absurd

pantomime of him refusing to go out the back (because it is raining)

and demanding to be let out the front door only to find that it is

raining out there as well. He has been known to sulk for hours.

70

My mind on what we are having for dinner tonight, I

automatically step over the cat as he calmly sits down in the middle of

the floor and starts grooming.

'Mum, there's a message on the answerphone ... The light's

flashing.' Duncan called from the office.

I'd forgotten all about that phone call … must have inadvertently

turned off the beep which reminds me that there is a message …

going quickly into the office, I hit the play button … it’s Sam

Dehaney … he's asking if I can call him as soon as possible, and

giving me his direct dial number.

I glance at the clock … just before five. I wonder if he’d still be

in the office … I’ll give it a go. I quickly call his number … listening

while it rings and rings … damn! I’ve missed him!

However, just as I am about to hang up, the phone is answered

and I ask to speak to Sam Dehaney, giving my name and explaining

that I am returning his call. The woman on the other end explains that

he’s away from his desk at the moment and asks me to wait while she

goes to find him.

'Hello, Mrs Jones. Thanks for coming back to me.' he said in

his friendly manner when he picks up the phone 'I was wondering if

you might be able to come into the office tomorrow morning.'

'Yes, I could do that - is there some problem with the

paperwork?'

'No, nothing like that. We’d like to talk to you about a possible

placement. What time could you get here?'

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'Well, I've got to drop Duncan off at school, but could come

down straight after that.' I said, slightly stunned by his request - I'd

been so sure they had written me off.

'That would be fine, Mrs Jones - you know where we are?' he

said, and gives me directions which I hurriedly scribble down. 'We'll

see you tomorrow, then. Bye'

'Who was that, Mum?' Duncan asked, concentrating on setting

up the game which is currently his favourite.

'That was one of the social workers who came round to see me

the other day. He wants me to go into the office tomorrow to talk

about a placement.' I said, adjusting my thoughts back into fostering

mode. I register his blank expression: ‘That means they want us to

have someone here, Duncan.’

'Oh, are we having someone – I didn’t think we were.' Duncan

asked, his attention diverted from the screen for a moment.

'Possibly. I don't know, Duncan, but I shall find out tomorrow

by the look of it. Is that still okay with you?'

'Yeah.' he said vaguely, turning back to the game again.

He doesn't seem too bothered at the moment … but the reality

might be different. Pondering this, I go back into the kitchen to

organise a meal.

Bearing in mind the meeting I have arranged with Sam Dehaney

this morning, I decide not to talk to Sally Richards just yet, after all, it

is entirely possible I might have to register someone else … who

knows.

72

Caroline isn’t at the gate this morning, so I can't tell her about

this development which is disappointing, I was looking forward to

talking to someone about it. I see Jan from a distance but she doesn’t

hear me calling her and, remembering she was pretty antagonistic to

the idea last time I mentioned it, I don't go chasing after her.

As I drive into town, I feel a little nervous - what am I getting

myself into?

By the time I get to Sam Dehaney's offices, I’m later than I

intended, the road I usually park in was disrupted by roadworks with

the parking coned off, and I had to go down to the multi-storey car

park in the end, paying for the privilege and guessing at how long I

would be. Oh well, if I finish before the two hours are up, I can

always have a potter round the shops. I take a deep breath and

consciously straighten my shoulders as I walk through the door into

the reception area, announcing my arrival to the woman on the desk.

'Please take a seat, Mrs Jones.' she said pleasantly 'I'll tell him

you're here.'

I take off my coat – it’s warm in here - and sit down on one of

the chairs in the waiting area, draping my coat on the one next to it; I

feel uncharacteristically flustered and try to compose myself.

A few minutes later, Sam Dehaney appears and invites me to

follow him to his office. Ms Jeavons is sitting in there on one chair of

three round a small table in one corner of the office; a paper-strewn

desk taking up most of the room. I smile at her, getting no

appreciable response, and grit my teeth. Sam Dehaney directs me to

73

one of the chairs and, pausing to pick up a file from his desk, takes the

third chair. I put my bag and coat on the floor beside me and wait

expectantly.

'Thanks for coming along at such short notice, Mrs Jones.' Sam

Dehaney said with a smile 'Only something has come up which we

feel you would be the ideal person to pick up.'

'All the forms were all right then?'

'Oh, yes, in fact, your referees were very complimentary about

your suitability, Mrs Jones.' he replied opening the file and quickly

scanning the page in front of him, as though refreshing his memory on

what it contains. 'You did specify that you would prefer a child

roughly the same age as your son.' he went on and I nod. 'Would you

consider two children, Mrs Jones?'

I'd not thought of more than one.

'It's just that we have a brother and sister who are in need of

short term care while their grandmother goes into hospital for an

operation. The boy is the same age as your son and attends the village

primary school. His sister is slightly older, but for obvious reasons,

we want to keep them together.' He waits while I digest this

information.

'How long would their … grandmother, was it? ... be in

hospital?' I asked wondering just how long ‘short term care’ would

mean.

'Well, she will only be in hospital for a week or so, but won’t be

fit enough to have the children back for at least three months, possibly

74

four. She’s having some fairly major surgery which will mean she

can’t lift or drive and, rather than take risks and do long term damage,

she’s sensibly organising care for the children.'

I sneak a glance at Ms Jeavons - she's sitting there very quietly

… I find it unnerving.

'Are there no parents?' I asked.

'Mum is an alcoholic – she’s is currently in rehabilitation - and

Dad disappeared from the scene some years ago. He's not been heard

of for three years now, it is believed that he has left the country.

Mum does keep in touch with the children but her mother has care

and control and has been looking after them really well for several

years. She is understandably extremely concerned about what is

going to happen to the children while she is in hospital, even more so

if it means that the children will have to move out of the village.' he

answered - oh, I see where I come in.

'I think I could deal with that. How old is the girl?'

Sam Dehaney referred to his file. 'She's thirteen - she attends

the comprehensive.' he replied 'If you feel you would be able to take

them, their grandmother would like to visit you to meet you.'

'Of course, that's not a problem. In her shoes I’d want to do the

same. When does she go in for her operation?'

'That's the difficulty, originally they anticipated it would be after

Christmas, but now it's been re-scheduled for next week - this has all

come rather fast and her condition, though not life-threatening, does

need to be dealt with as soon as possible.' He replied.

75

I blink rather shaken by the speed at which this is all going.

'That’s partly why we have rushed your forms through so

quickly, they usually take a lot longer to process. If possible, we

would like to see the children settled with you this weekend.'

Today’s Wednesday … that doesn't give me very long to get

organised. I wonder who the boy in Duncan's class is … 'We'd

better get moving, then.' I find myself saying, 'What’s the next step?'

'We'll contact the family and tell them that you’re willing to take

the children and discuss the proposed visit. I'll ring you later today to

let you know when the visit is to take place. Is any time which is no

good for you?' Sam Dehaney went on, pen poised

'No, I don’t think so. Only school finishing time.' I said slowly,

trying to think if there is anything I have forgotten. 'Can you tell me

who the family are?'

'Not right now, but I will give you all the information once I

have spoken to the grandmother.' He replied.

I am slightly dazed as I walk out of the offices. I have filled in a

few more forms, mainly relating to my bank details, fortunately I had

my cheque book with me. So much for you and your disapproval, Ms

Jeavons!

I do hope the boy concerned is one Duncan gets on with. I rack

my brains trying to think of any child in his class who lives with his

grandmother. Surely, I would have seen the woman waiting outside

the school gates … maybe I have. Oh well, I'll find out soon

enough.

76

When I get home, all thought of shopping now decidedly

irrelevant, I go up and look at the two spare bedrooms. Thank

goodness Matt moved all his stuff out last week. Both rooms have

single beds (Matt always preferred a single - though he could have

had a double bed if he'd wanted it, the room is big enough to take one)

and wardrobe space. There is a table in one of them … might be

better for the girl, if she has homework she might want somewhere to

work. I desperately try to remember all I can about being thirteen …

it’s not a lot. I'll have to ask Caroline, her oldest girl is about that

age. While I am contemplating the second room, I hear the phone

ringing and dash into my bedroom to pick up the extension. It's Sam

Dehaney.

'Mrs Jones? I've been in touch with the family, Mrs Benson

would like to come and see you this afternoon if possible. Is that all

right with you? I'll bring her over myself and introduce you.'

'Yes, what time?'

'About one thirty? 'That’ll give you time to have a good chat

before you have to go down to the school.'

Mrs Benson? I don't know anyone called that … the children

must have a different surname. I spend the rest of the morning,

pushing the vacuum round and tidying up the house – logic tells me

that I only did it a couple of days ago so it cannot possibly need doing

… but I really want Mrs Benson to think that her grandchildren will

be looked after properly. Naturally, just as the doorbell goes at one

77

thirty, Toby comes in from the garden, leaving muddy pawprints all

over the kitchen floor. Bloody cat!

Sam Dehaney comes in, accompanied by a capable looking

woman in her fifties I would guess. Funny, I had pictured her as

being older, probably to do with the grandparent bit. I have seen her

at the school gates but we've never spoken. I smile a welcome and

take them into the kitchen apologising for the muddy paw prints as

the culprit sits on the rug and calmly washes himself.

'Don't worry, Mrs Jones, I've had cats, I know what they are

like. It's a fine tomcat you've got here.' Mrs Benson said in answer to

my apology, bending down to scratch Toby behind his ears.

I warm to this the woman. Why I should have been expecting

criticism, I don't know, probably down to Ms Jeavons, I imagine.

'Can I offer you a cup of tea?' I asked and they both accept,

sitting down at the table - it all feels very friendly.

Glancing at Mrs Benson while I prepare the tea, I note that she

looks slightly pale round the edges, at least that’s the best way I can

describe it. Probably why she has to have this operation so soon.

'You have a very nice house, Mrs Jones.' she said as I carry the

tray of mugs over to the table. 'I remember when your uncle used to

live here, though I've not been inside before.'

'Really?' I said, pleased at her friendliness 'That’s going back a

long way now. We've made a few changes since his time.'

'Yes, I expect you have.' she said reflectively, 'Time passes so

quickly these days. Oh, that makes me sound like an old lady!'

78

'Well, you don't look like one.' I replied offering her the sugar

bowl 'And if it is any consolation, I find the weeks fly past incredibly

fast as well. I hear you’re going into hospital for an operation.'

'Yes,' she said, and her smile disappears. 'Sam here says you

are willing to look after Jenna and Mickey for me.'

'Yes, that's right.' I replied, suddenly feeling very sorry for the

woman. 'I'll show you round the house properly when you've finished

your tea so you can see the bedrooms and everything. I believe

Mickey is in the same class as my son, Duncan.'

We chat about the teacher and the school generally while we

drink out tea, with me desperately trying to think if I have met a boy

called Mickey, and Sam Dehaney just sitting and letting us get to

know each other. It seems Mrs Benson has lived in the village for

about thirty years; originally when she got a job here, then later with

her husband, though they divorced just over ten years ago, and later,

when her daughter's relationship broke up six years ago, with her

daughter and the two children. She is quite up front about her

daughter's drink problem, telling me that the woman is in

rehabilitation at a place some twenty-five miles away. It's not going

particularly well though and I commiserate with her, wondering just

what it must be like for her.

Mrs Benson is very complimentary about the bedrooms and

agrees that the one with the table would be very suitable for Jenna,

assuring me that Jenna is a very quiet girl and no trouble at all.

79

'How much of this land is yours, Mrs Jones?' she asked pausing

to look out of the windows on the first floor.

'Just the field you can see, Mrs Benson. Fred Plaister is grazing

his sheep there at the moment. The horses belong to a family in the

village.'

As we settle down again in the kitchen, Mrs Benson turns to

me. 'I was really worried about what was going to happen to Jenna

and Mickey, but you’ve put my mind at rest now, Mrs Jones. I feel I

can go into hospital now and just concentrate on what is happening

there. But, if it's all right with you, I'll bring them both up tomorrow

evening - would that be convenient?'

'Yes, that's a very good idea. They'll settle better if they know

what they are coming to. It must be a worrying time for them too.' I

replied

We arrange that she will come over just after seven. As we

walk to the door, Sam Dehaney turns to me and thanks me for being

so accommodating.

'That's all right.' I said, 'I'm glad I can help. To be honest, I

didn't think you'd accept me. Your colleague didn't seem too happy

about it.'

'Ah.' he said, an understanding gleam in his eye 'You don't

want to go by appearances, Mrs Jones. I'll be in touch.'

I watch as they drive away and go into the house musing over

the conversation we had this afternoon. From my limited experience,

80

few thirteen year old girls are very quiet … I know I wasn't. I wonder

what Jenna will be like.

81

Chapter 5

I look at the calendar … where are we … it’s the 5th

November

… that’s funny, Jan usually has a firework party on the Friday nearest

to the 5th

… she hasn’t been in touch about it. Come to think about it,

I’ve not seen her lately. I know I saw her as I came out of school the

other morning and called out to her but she didn’t hear me. I hope

everything is okay with them. I’ll ask Caroline if I see her.

As it happens, Caroline is just walking down the road towards

the school when I meet up with her.

‘What are you looking so thrilled about, Maggie?’ she asked,

waiting for me as I run down the road towards her.

'Caroline, you'll never guess!' I said excitedly as I catch my

breath.

Smiling, she turns to look at me. 'I bet I can.' she replied with a

grin, 'They've accepted you as a foster parent?'

'More than that.' I exclaimed as we reach the school crossing

and wait for the lollipop lady to let us across. 'I've got two children

coming at the weekend.'

'Two!' Caroline exclaimed 'Tell me more.'

As we walk towards the school gates, I tell her all about my

meeting with Sam Dehaney yesterday and how Mrs Benson came

round this afternoon. 'She's a really nice woman, I did feel for her,

Caroline.'

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'Mrs Benson? I don't think I know her.' she said thoughtfully,

'You say the boy is in the same class as Duncan and Daisy?'

'Yes, his name’s Mickey.'

'Oh, I know who you mean now. She lives down by the church.

Her daughter’s the one who caused all that rumpus at the pub last year

- you know, got blind drunk and started throwing chairs around when

they refused to serve her any more alcohol. So she's in rehab now is

she? That's good.' she said 'I didn’t think I had seen her around for a

while.'

'I hope the kids don't behave like that.'

'They'll be fine, Maggie. I've never heard anything negative

about them … or Mrs Benson for that matter.' Caroline replied

confidently, 'And I tend to hear most things.'

‘Talking about hearing things – is Jan okay? Only I’ve not seen

her for ages.’ Caroline looks awkward but doesn’t say anything . ‘I

was looking at the calendar before I came out and noticed that it’s this

Friday coming when they usually have their firework party … I’ve

not heard from her, are they having one this year?’ I went on.

Before she can answer, Duncan comes out of class, sees me, and

dashes over, 'Mum, what did they say?' he asked excitedly 'Are we

having someone?'

I exchange a surprised glance with Caroline, I hadn't expected

this level of enthusiasm from Duncan … a tinge of worry that he

really is lonely hits me again.

83

'Yes, Duncan, we're having a boy your age and his older sister.'

I said, reluctant to tell him who it is until we are away from the school

gates, there are a lot of flapping ears around us.

'I'll leave you to it, Maggie.' Caroline said giving Daisy a hug of

welcome, 'We're off to the library. See you in the morning.'

Duncan manages to contain his curiosity until we have crossed

the main road, but as soon as we start walking through the estate, he

bursts out. ‘Who is it, Mum? Do I know them?'

'Yes, the boy is in your class, Duncan. His name’s Mickey,

though I am not sure what his surname is.' I replied anxiously.

I don't know if he gets on with this child and there is always the

possibility that he might not.

'Mickey?' he said enthusiastically, 'Oh cool! He's brill at

football.'

Relieved, I smile at him as he tells me all about Mickey

Thompson. Not that the information he imparts is particularly useful

from my point of view, but at least Duncan is happy with the idea.

The school has a football trainer come in a couple of times a week to

coach the kids, Duncan is keen and the sessions are one of the high

spots of his week. It appears that Mickey is one of the stars of Year

6. It also becomes clear that he is something of a rascal with a

reputation for teasing the girls. Hmmm … might need watching.

'Keep it under your hat for the time being, Duncan.' I said,

feeling it better that Mrs Benson should call the shots, so to speak.

84

'But they are coming over tomorrow evening to see us, I should think

that you can talk about it after that.'

I hear Duncan enthusing to Matt over the phone later. Matt asks

to speak to me and, reluctantly handing over the phone, Duncan goes

off to do his homework.

'He's rather full of it, Maggie.' Matt commented 'What's exactly

happening? Duncan was enthusiastic but apart from the fact this kid

is apparently an England player in the making, he wasn't terribly

informative.'

'We are having two children, Matt. Jenna who is 13 and Mickey

who’s 10. They live with their grandmother - Caroline says they've

got a cottage down by the church. But Mrs Benson, the grandmother,

has to go into hospital for an operation and won't be able to look after

the children for a few months. Obviously, they want to keep

continuity going with regards to school and such like so I was the

obvious candidate.'

'Oh, I see. Sounds fairly reasonable. Where are the kids'

parents?'

'Dad disappeared some years ago and mum is an alcoholic -

she's in rehab somewhere. The family seem quite respectable

though. Mrs Benson came round this afternoon - she's a nice woman.

Mid-fifties I should think and very up together. It must have been a

horrendous worry for her when this op came up.'

'Have you met the kids yet?'

85

'No, but Mrs Benson is going to bring them over tomorrow night

to show them the house and introduce us.'

'Well, it all sounds okay.' he commented thoughtfully, 'You

hear such horror stories about wild children, but it looks as though

you have landed on your feet, Maggie. Anyway, it is only for a few

months.'

'I'm sure it will be fine, Matt.' I said firmly, 'How are things up

in Cumbria?'

'Good. I'm getting to know my way around now and found a

really nice little pub last night - does reasonably priced, home made

food. Though I dare not eat there too often, I'll put on weight! They

have a quiz once a week, I’m thinking of going along. Are you taking

Duncan to Jan’s for fireworks on Friday?'

‘I’ve not seen Jan for ages, Matt. I don’t even know if they are

having a firework do this year.’ I replied ‘I hope there’s nothing

wrong between her and Dave. As for fireworks, I’ll probably take

Duncan to the village display.’

Lying in bed, where I do a lot of my thinking, I go back over the

day – I’m a little concerned about Jan … it’s very odd that I haven’t

heard from her. Oh well, we’ll just go to the village fireworks this

year. Duncan won’t mind.

My mind turns to the more pressing problem of having Jenna

and Mickey here … it’ll solve the financial problem for the moment,

thank goodness. Okay, it is only for a few months, but I’ll cross that

bridge when I get to it. I do hope the children will settle here – I’ve

86

not had a lot to do with other people’s children … not away from their

parents anyway. I wonder how they are feeling about it.

Maggie, anticipation is invariably worse than the reality – stop

worrying about it. I tell myself firmly. The trouble is I don’t think

I’m listening very well. I wake in the middle of the night – the clock

says 2.47 a.m. which is an unholy hour of the day. Despite my best

efforts to clear my mind and go back to sleep, I see the clock reading

4.43 before I manage to drop off again. When the alarm goes off, I

don’t want to know. But that’s not an option – Mums don’t get days

off ….

I don’t know if it is as a result of my bad night, my nerves or

what, but I'm more than slightly on edge by the time the doorbell

rings, signalling the arrival of Mrs Benson and her grandchildren.

Duncan bounds down the stairs excitedly –

‘Calm down, Duncan!’

He can be a little too bouncy at times … Tigger on speed

describes it quite well.

Smiling a welcome, I open the door and usher our visitors into

the hall. Mrs Benson is looking decidedly wan, poor woman. She

introduces Jenna and Mickey to me, Duncan immediately asking if he

can take Mickey up to his room.

'That's fine with me.' I answered, glancing at Mrs Benson who

smiles.

The boys disappear upstairs and I take Mrs Benson and her

granddaughter through to the kitchen. Jenna’s tall for her age - at

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least she is taller than Caroline's Bryony who is about the same age –

she is an attractive girl, slim and dark haired. She looks around with a

slightly timid air but her eyes light up when she spots Toby.

'Please may I stroke your cat?' she asked nervously, obviously

on her best behaviour.

'Of course, Jenna - he'll probably let you pick him up and cuddle

him, if you want to, but I'll warn you he weighs a bit.' I replied.

I watch as she goes over to where Toby is sprawled on the rug

and, sitting down beside him, she reaches out her hand to stroke him.

He immediately starts purring, and the girl smiles - Toby is quite

content to accept anyone daft enough to give him attention, but there's

no need to tell Jenna that.

'Can I offer you a cup of something, Mrs Benson?' I asked once

she has settled herself on a chair at the table.

She opts for coffee.

'Gran, he likes me.' Jenna said blissfully, 'What's his name, Mrs

Jones?'

'He's called Toby, Jenna. But please don't call me Mrs Jones - it

sounds horribly formal. My name's Maggie.'

'I think you should call Mrs Jones ‘Aunt Maggie’, don't you,

Jenna?' Mrs Benson put in quickly with a glance at me for approval.

I’m okay about that – I was brought up with several honorary

aunts and uncles.

'My name's Marian, by the way.' She finished.

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'Would you like a drink at all, Jenna?' I asked now that this is

all settled. 'I've got squash if you prefer it to tea or coffee.'

'Could I have a cup of tea, please … Aunt Maggie?' she asked

shyly, pausing in her stroking of Toby's tummy.

The stupid cat has rolled over on his back now. He bats her

hand to remind her that he’s still there, making her giggle. She's

looking a lot less tense now.

'Come and sit down properly, Jenna.' Marian said when I've

made the tea; the girl reluctantly leaves Toby and comes to join us at

the table. 'Maggie, I've explained to Jenna and Mickey that they'll be

coming to stay with you while I am getting this operation over and

done with. They understand that they must behave themselves and I

have stressed that if they don't, you will tell me and I will deal with

them.'

'I'm sure they will be fine.' I replied anxiously as Jenna looks at

me nervously.

‘Yes, I'm sure they will be too, but I just wanted to make the

point.' Marian said practically 'Now, Jenna, you'll be able to get the

same school bus as usual - perhaps over the weekend you could see

how long it will take you to walk down there from here. The bus goes

at eight, Maggie, it is fairly reliable.'

'What time do you generally get home after school, Jenna?'

'The bus gets back to the village at about four twenty.' she

replied 'But I sometimes stay late for orchestra'

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‘You'll have to give me a note of when you will be doing that,

Jenna, then I won't worry. Do you carry a mobile phone?' I asked.

'Yes, she does.' Marian interrupted, 'But they aren’t supposed to

have them turned on when at school. Mickey doesn't have one.'

'You'll have to let me have the number - I'll give you mine,

Jenna, so if you have a change of plan for any reason, you can let me

know If you've finished your tea, shall we go and have a look at your

room?'

We all go upstairs - I can hear noises from Duncan's room which

suggest that they have got his Scaletrix out. Jenna doesn't comment

when I show her the room intended for her use; she just stands

looking round with large eyes taking in the somewhat bare

furnishings. I don't know what it is about bookshelves but if they are

empty they make a room look desolate.

'It will look better when you have all your stuff here.' I said

seeing it through her eyes. 'Will you need any help bringing it over,

Marian?' I asked suddenly wondering how she is going to manage

shifting their belongings.

'No, I've got some volunteers, thanks Maggie. You've got plenty

of space for your books, Jenna. Maggie, would it help if I sent over

their duvets and the covers? I shouldn't think you have enough.'

'That would be very helpful, Marian.' I said realising this is

another aspect I haven't thought of ... it would also be something

familiar for the children, I think to myself.

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I show Jenna round the rest of the top floor - as I thought, the

boys have set up the track all over Duncan's bedroom floor and are

busily engrossed in racing cars round it. Dragging Mickey away for a

moment, we show him where his bedroom will be and the washing

facilities. Not that he’s particular interested - he escapes back to

Duncan's room as soon as he can.

Marian beams after him as he disappears, commenting that he's

not going to be bothered by the move, the fact that she obviously

dotes on the boy very clear. Maybe that accounts in some way for the

fact that Jenna is so downright unsure of herself.

'I'm really looking forward to having you here, Jenna.' I said as

we go down the stairs,'It’ll be nice to have another female in the

place.'

The surprised look on her face says it all … she smiles at me

tentatively.

Back in the kitchen again, we go over arrangements for the

weekend. Marian will bring the children over after lunch on Saturday

- it seems that Sally Richards' family are helping with the move – I

don’t quite know the connection between Marian and Sally but

doubtless it will come to light in due course. Marian has mentioned

to Sally already that I am going to be having the children but we agree

that it would be sensible for me to go in and have a quick word with

her confirming arrangements.

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Duncan and Mickey come rampaging down the stairs and into

the kitchen, 'Mum, can I go and show Mickey the lambs?' Duncan

asked.

'Only if you keep off the mud, Duncan … and you'll need the

flashlight now, it's getting dark. Have they got any boots, Marian?'

'They’ve got wellies - will they do?'

'Oh yes, that would be fine. It's just that it gets pretty mucky out

there and I don't like it trodden into the kitchen.' I explained, 'Jenna

do you want to go with them?'

The girl is looking keen so I tell Duncan that Jenna wants to go

too and am pleased to see that he cheerfully includes her in the party.

'When do you go into hospital, Marian?' I asked now that the

kids are out of earshot.

'Tuesday.' she replied with a sigh. 'It is a great relief knowing

that those two will be all right, Maggie. Thank you.'

'Will we be able to ring the hospital or something?' I asked,

remembering what it was like when my mum went in for a minor op a

couple of years ago. 'Only the kids will be worried and need to know

how you are. What are the visiting arrangements?'

'Would you bring them in to see me?'

'Of course, I will.' I said, astonished that she would doubt it.

'Perhaps you could let the hospital know that I'll be ringing - I know

how difficult it is getting information out of them if you are not a

relation. I'll take them in to visit you after the op and then, once you

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are home, I'll bring them down to visit you. It would be horrid for all

of you not to have any contact.'

'Oh, Maggie! You angel!' she said, close to tears. 'That would

be wonderful.'

'Well, you just make sure I have all the contact details when you

come on Saturday, Marian.' I said embarrassed by her reaction, 'Once

they are settled here, you can concentrate on getting yourself well

again.'

The kitchen door bursts open and the kids, faces flushed by the

chilly air, rush noisily back into the kitchen. Even Jenna is looking

animated.

'Gran, one of the sheep came over and nibbled my fingers!' she

said as I herd them all over to the sink to wash their hands.

Despite their excitement they have all carefully scraped their

shoes on the door mat outside, keeping the mud to a minimum … I'm

impressed. Mickey seems to be a normal boy - I've not seen much of

him so far and have a look at him as Duncan passes round the

biscuits. Dark like his sister, Mickey is slightly shorter than Duncan

with a ready charming smile.

As we wave them goodbye, I ask Duncan why it is that I've not

heard of Mickey before. 'It just seems odd, you seem to be very good

friends.' I commented, closing the door.

'Well, he lives down by the church and the kids down there tend

to hang out together just like we do up here. But he's a great guy.'

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Later, as I sit in the quiet of the kitchen after Duncan has gone

to get ready for bed, I contemplate the two children. Mickey - full of

confidence and charm … doubtless I will have the odd run-in with

him - I get the impression he thinks he can charm his way through

life … and then there’s Jenna - animal mad, shy and withdrawn.

I can understand that Marian would have a soft spot for her

grandson, especially if she only had one daughter and that one

appears to have gone off the rails at an early age, but … it doesn't

seem fair. From what I have seen, Jenna is a pleasant, well-mannered

girl - I wonder what she is interested in … she mentioned orchestra,

she must play an instrument of some sort. I'm quite looking forward

to having them here.

Marian must feel very isolated at times … she was really

surprised that I was willing to take the kids to visit her … it will be

lonely for her being convalescent in the house on her own. Maybe I

could have her here for a meal sometimes. Glancing at the calendar, I

suddenly realise that they will definitely be here for Christmas … now

that’s a thought. I'll talk to Jenna and see what we can come up with.

Now that it is all settled, I'd better ring my parents and tell them

what is going on. There'd be hell to pay if they found out by some

other means, and they do have contacts in the village.

Do it now, Maggie.

Dad answers the phone - he tells me how much they enjoyed

having Duncan at the weekend, asking if he can go over again

sometime soon.

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'I'm not sure, Dad, did Mum tell you I was looking into the idea

of fostering children?' I said when I can get a word in.

'Hmmm, she mentioned it.' he replied, 'Has anything come of

it?'

Enthusiastically, I tell him about Mrs Benson and her problems

and how we are having Jenna and Mickey for a few months.

'They sound all right.' he said dubiously 'I hope it all works out

for you, Maggie.'

'Don't be so negative, Dad. Just think how you and Mum would

feel if you were in Mrs Benson’s position. She's doing her best for

the kids - its not their fault their mother has a problem.' I retaliated

'Hmmm … I'll get your mother, shall I?' he said conceding the

point reluctantly.

Mum comes on the line and I go through the explanation all

over again.

'Marian Benson?' she said, slowly, when I have finished, 'I

think I know of her, Maggie. Now who told me about her?' she

thinks for a moment, 'Oh yes, it was Fred Plaister, I bumped into him

in Bristol sometime last year … no, it wasn’t, it was the year before

… he was full of how the woman had given up a prestigious job to

make a home for her grandchildren. It stuck in my mind because I

used to go to school with a girl of the same name, though there’s no

link as far as I know. Your Mrs Benson was a high flyer

professionally, so he said. What are the children like?'

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'Jenna is very shy and unsure of herself, Mum, her brother is a

typical boy and charming to boot - he and Duncan get on like a house

on fire. I think Jenna is in his shadow to some extent. She's animal

mad and plays a musical instrument of some sort. I'm looking

forward to having her around.'

'You seem quite taken with the girl, Maggie.' my mother

commented 'You'll have to bring them over here sometime - your Dad

can occupy the boys I have no doubt.'

'Thanks, Mum.' I replied relieved that they have accepted the

situation – due no doubt partly to the fact that the old village

grapevine has been positive with regard to Marian. 'I'll leave it for a

week or so until they have settled in - they are bound to be a bit upset

with Marian going into hospital and all that.'

'Bring them over one Sunday, Maggie, I'll do lunch.' Mum

offered. 'That would be lovely, Mum. I'll give you a ring and we'll

organise a date once they have settled in.'

'But how are you, Maggie?' she asked 'How are you coping

now that Matt is gone?'

'Fine, Matt talks to Duncan most evenings. He says he is

settling in up there. I hardly miss him at all, Mum. Things are good.'

'I'm relieved to hear that.' she said with a sigh - it doesn’t take a

genius to realise that she was hoping Matt and I would stay together.

But it's not going to be like that.

96

Chapter 6

I drop Duncan at the playground gate as usual, then go into the

school building and wait in the queue by the hatch to the office.

When it is my turn, I tell Caroline, who mans the front office, that I

want to speak to Sally Richards.

‘Mrs Richards! Someone to see you.’ she called through to

Sally's office, quickly turning to the next person in the queue; Sally

appears.

‘Come on through, Maggie.’ She said with a smile - clearly she

has some idea why I am here … of course, she would have, she's

helping move Jenna and Mickey.

'Morning, Maggie, how are things?' Sally asked pleasantly as I

take the spare seat by her desk.

'Fine, thanks.' I replied with a smile. 'Lots going on at the

moment.'

'So I hear.' she said, 'Marian Benson came in yesterday to

explain what is happening with regard to Mickey and, of course,

we’re helping with the move on Saturday.'

'Yes, she mentioned that last night. But that is not all, Sally, I

don’t know if I have to fill in a form or something, but my husband

and I have split up.'

'Oh Maggie, I'm sorry to hear that.' Sally replied in a concerned

voice, making a note on her pad.

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'Oh, it's nothing to get upset about.' I said, smiling at her,

'Matt’s working in Cumbria now; he moved up there last week. It's

all very friendly.'

'How has Duncan taken it?' she asked, looking a little confused

by my comment.

'Very well, Matt rings him most evenings and now that we have

Mickey and Jenna coming, Duncan is quite happy. Matt’s been away

so much over the years, that it is not very different now that he's

living somewhere else.'

'What are you going to do with yourself now, Maggie?' Sally

asked. ‘It’s not easy starting again.’

She sounds concerned … oh … of course, Sally’s been on her

own for several years. Her husband died of cancer, I believe, and

she's got two children … a boy a few years older than Duncan and a

girl older than that.

'I've been thinking about it, Sally, but I haven't really come up

with any ideas. I've never had to do this before, you see. There was

always a group of us as kids and Matt was part of that, somehow we

drifted into marriage and then Duncan came along … it's never been

just me on my own and I'm not sure how one goes about meeting

people.' I confessed somewhat sheepishly - it sounds so pathetic.

'Hmmmm … ' she said thoughtfully, 'I'll give it some thought

and let you know if I come up with anything. But we’ll see you on

Saturday anyway.'

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'Thanks, Sally.' I said, rising to leave. 'Is there anyone else I

ought to inform about the separation?'

'No, I'll make sure Duncan’s teacher is aware of the situation

and let the Head know as well.' she replied efficiently - she is a very

reassuring person is Sally Richards.

We have a snack tea after school. There was a poster

advertising the village fireworks on the school notice board

fortunately giving all the details I need – they are taking place at the

open ground the other side of the church and start at 6.30 p.m.

According to the poster, there will be a bonfire, fireworks and hot

dogs.

Dressing warmly, with scarves and gloves, we walk down

through the November darkness. It isn’t raining, though there is a

slight dampness in the air. We’re not the only ones heading for the

field by the look of it and by the time we get to the lane leading to the

field, we are in a large crowd of adults with excited children.

Duncan sees a couple of his friends. ‘Mum, can I go off with

them?’

‘Of course, Duncan.’ … perhaps I shall see someone I know

once we are inside the field. The excited crowd slowly makes its way

through the gate where we buy the tickets which will entitle us to our

hot dogs, and then, once into the field, spreading out into small groups

of people – families … I don’t see anyone else on their own, though

there must be … surely. Duncan has to come back to my side in order

99

to get through the gate and hangs around with me for a few minutes

before asking if he can go off again.

‘I’ll stay here so you’ll know where to find me.’ I replied,

pleased to see him enjoying himself though wishing that he wanted to

stay with me.

I’m feeling isolated – I’ve never felt like this before.

I take up a position standing by a large tree not very far from the

bonfire which is just being lit. There are flares stuck into the ground

behind the fenced off area which shed some light and, as the bonfire

takes, the field becomes illuminated, showing dark shadows of people

moving against the background of the leaping flames. To the right of

the fire, there’s a roped off area with notices warning people to stay

out … that must be where they are going to set off the fireworks. On

the other side, there’s a hot dog stall but, although a few people

wander over there, it is clear that they are not ready to start serving

yet.

Sticking my hands in my pockets and trying to look nonchalant,

I stand watching the crowd as it swirls around the field. Most people

are in clumps of four or more adults with sundry children running

around them, though there are several families consisting of two

adults with children. I spot a few groups which are all women or all

men, clearly friends who have combined forces for the occasion … I

smile at anyone who wanders within sight but I don’t see anyone I

recognise.

100

The wind is bitter – typical Guy Fawkes weather - and I shiver

though whether that is with the cold or the isolation, I am not sure.

Duncan comes running over just before they start the fireworks.

‘Mum, are you okay?’

‘Yes, I’m fine.’ I replied, pleased to have him back. ‘Lots of

people here tonight.’

‘Yeah! It’s great!’ he said enthusiastically. ‘Is it okay if I go to

stand with my friends, Mum? Only they’ve got a place near the

fireworks.’

‘You go ahead, Duncan.’ I answered, hoping he doesn’t realise

how much I want him to stay with me. ‘When you want your hot dog,

let me know.’

Giving me a hug, he runs off just as the first rocket shoots up

into the sky. It is a strange feeling being part of a crowd yet being

totally alone. I haven’t seen a soul I know.

I feel panic rising, have I become invisible?

Common sense reasserts itself and I take a deep breath,

concentrating on the fireworks. It is difficult, not having anyone to

comment on them to … no-one to appreciate them with. Oblivious to

the display, I go over in my mind all the displays I have seen …

usually Matt was there to share them with … or my parents … that

time he had been abroad, I’d been with my best friend from school.

‘Well, you are bloody lucky, Maggie.’ I told myself, ‘If this is

the first time you’ve been alone, that is pretty good going.’

101

Duncan enthuses all the way home, going over how much he

enjoyed the display, commenting that it was much better than the ones

at Jan’s. I try to respond but it is an effort.

He goes to bed after a supper of toast and milk and I sit in the

kitchen, horribly aware for the first time of how alone I now am.

Later, lying in bed, I hug my pillow and cry myself to sleep.

I wake on Saturday morning feeling foul, but by dint of giving

myself a damned good talking to while I shower, I manage to achieve

a certain degree of normality. Breakfast helps and after a couple of

mugs of coffee, I feel okay, thanking my lucky stars that I have a

fairly equable temperament and bounce back quickly.

Duncan doesn’t notice, fortunately, he is far too excited at the

thought of Jenna and Mickey moving in … okay, let's make that

Mickey … I don't think he has really considered Jenna much. Marian

rang yesterday afternoon to confirm that everything was all right and

told me that Mickey was just the same. She sounds a lot more relaxed

about the whole thing now.

I wonder how Jenna’s feeling.

Although I have told Duncan that they won't be here until after

lunch, he insists on taking his sandwiches up to his room so he can

watch out of the window to see them arriving. An hour later a whoop

followed by the thunder of footsteps down the stairs, tells me clearly

that they have arrived.

'Duncan, calm down!' I commanded, as I open the door to

welcome them.

102

Three cars have pulled into my driveway - Marian is driving

one, Sally another and a man I don't know the third. Putting the door

on the latch, I go out to see what I can do to help.

'Hello, Maggie.' Sally said with a smile as she gets out of her

car, 'I don't know if you have met my son, Ben.' A friendly-looking

lad grins at me … probably mid teens … and we say hello to each

other. 'Ben, this is Maggie's son, Duncan.' Sally went on.

Mickey leaps out of his grandmother's car and bounds over to

Duncan and they immediately start jabbering to each other. Jenna, I

note, is standing look a little lost, while her grandmother gets herself

out of the car.

Sally goes over to the third car, bringing back the man I don't

know and a pretty teenage girl. 'Maggie, I don't know if you know

Gary. And this is my niece, Abi, who lives with me.'

'Where shall we start?' I asked slightly confused, 'Do you want

a cup of something to begin with …?'

'No, I think that would be better when we've unloaded, Maggie.'

Sally replied, firmly in control of the situation, 'How would it be if

you take Marian into the house while we unload all the stuff? Abi

perhaps you and Ben could help Jenna with her things - they are all in

my car, I think … the boxes of books are on the heavy side, Ben,

perhaps you could carry those. Gary and the boys can do Mickey's …

would that be all right? Marian, we put the bedding in your boot - if

you leave me with the keys, I'll get that unloaded.'

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Everyone leaps into action and, I lead a somewhat relieved

Marian into the house. She looks worse every time I see her.

'It’s very kind of Sally and her family to help like this.' Marian

said as I sit her down at the kitchen table. 'Of course, I know Gary

from the days when I used to work. Thank you, Maggie, coffee

would be lovely.' She said as I offer her a drink.

'What did you do for a living, Marian?'

'I was a solicitor in Gary's firm.' she replied, her colour

improving slightly, ‘Do you know him at all?’

'No, I've not met him before.' I commented, joining her at the

table. 'You must miss it, not working.'

'Yes, but the children needed me and that was more important.

I'd done pretty well in the firm anyway, so it wasn't as though I had

career aims I didn't achieve.' she replied sipping her coffee. 'Gary's a

senior partner in Mansfield Blake in Bath.'

'Oh.' I said, impressed – they’re one of the more prestigious

firms around here from the little I know.

'He's a nice, down-to-earth man, though, Maggie.' she said

clearly amused by my reaction. 'It's good to see him and Sally getting

on so well. They've been going out with each other for about six

months now. They got together just after her brother was killed, you

know - Gary helped her sort out the legalities. Abi's a lovely girl.

Ah, you look puzzled, Maggie, you don't know about all this? No?

Sally's brother and his wife were killed in an earthquake somewhere

exotic last Easter. Abi, their daughter, was staying with Sally at the

104

time and Sally, being her only relation, has taken her in - Abi is the

same age as Sally's son, Ben.'

'Oh, I see.' I said, taking this all on board, 'I thought Sally had a

daughter.'

'She has, Katie is a year older than Ben and Abi.' Marian

replied, pulling a file out of the bag she has brought in with her.

‘Now I’d better go through this lot with you, Maggie.’

We sit in there, Marian showing me various papers and bits of

information which she has arranged very systematically in a ring

binder for me. She tells me that Jenna plays flute and has lessons at

school – they have been paid for up until the end of the term.

All the while, the sound of the unloading goes on in the hall.

Toby comes in through his cat flap but, after standing listening

for a few minutes, decides that it is probably better if he were

elsewhere, and slides out again.

Gradually the noise dies down and, after ten minutes of relative

silence, Gary sticks his head round the door: 'We've brought

everything in, Marian. The girls are making beds and Sally is locking

up the cars.'

'Gary, do come in - would you like something to drink?' I

offered.

'Thanks, coffee would be great.' he said, sitting down at the

table beside Marian. ‘How are you feeling now, Marian?'

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'Better thanks, Gary.' she replied, 'I wasn't feeling too good this

morning - it will be a massive relief when this operation is out of the

way.'

'I bet.' Gary said, 'It's good of you taking Jenna and Mickey like

this, Maggie,'

'Well, it suits all of us pretty well.' I replied, handing him a mug

and holding the sugar bowl as he helps himself to several spoonfuls.

'I'm quite looking forward to having another female in the house.'

'You're going to have your hands full with those two boys.'

Gary said thoughtfully, 'Mind you, they are rather excited at the

moment, once they have settled down it shouldn't be so bad.'

The boys in question explode into the kitchen and stand panting

… it looks as though they raced each other down the stairs and I’m

sure I heard at least one of them jump the last few steps.

'Mum, can we …' Duncan began, but I pounce on him before he

can finish his question.

'Duncan, I have told you before - it is dangerous running and

jumping down those stairs. Mickey, you didn't know so I will let you

off this time, but please both of you remember that you walk down

the stairs in future.' I said firmly, ignoring Gary's twitching mouth.

He has his back to the boys so they can't see him, thank

goodness.

'Sorry, Mum.' Duncan said calming down suddenly. 'I forgot.'

'Sorry, Aunt Maggie.' Mickey echoed, obviously struck by my

tone. Had he got me written down as a soft touch, I wonder?

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'Don't forget next time, please. I do not want to have to take

either of you down to the A&E department.' I continued. 'Now what

did you want to ask, Duncan?'

'Mickey wanted to know if we could go out in the field.' my

devious son asked, working on the theory that I won’t deny the visitor

whereas I might refuse him.

'Have you finished unpacking all your clothes and things,

Mickey?' I asked. He and Duncan exchange looks. 'No? Well, when

you've unpacked and put it all away, and I've inspected to check it is

all tidy, maybe then you can go outside.'

The boys slope off.

'I take it all back, Maggie.' Gary said grinning,'You'll not have

any trouble.'

'Marian, I didn't …' I stammered suddenly wondering if I have

stepped out of line ordering her grandson around, but I needn't have

worried

'Maggie, he is in your house now and under your jurisdiction -

you must do what you think fit. He can be a little terror at times and

needs a firm hand.'

'A typical boy, in fact.' Gary commented dryly and Marian

laughs.

'Do you think they will manage to unpack on their own?' I

asked, suddenly having second thoughts about the wisdom of this.

'Probably not.' Gary replied, 'But I'll go up in a minute and

oversee them.'

107

He’s just about to go upstairs when the kitchen door opens and

Sally comes in closely followed by Abi and Jenna. Gary explains that

he is off to see what the boys are up to.

'They were making quite a row, Gary, so I sent Ben in to see

what they were up to. I don't think it was anything dire, but I daresay

you will have a calming influence.' Sally said, 'Maggie, we've

unpacked almost all Jenna's things, and made the beds. There's only

your books now, I think, Jenna, and you can arrange those as you

want to later on.'

'That’s brilliant.' I said, pleased to see Jenna looking less

stressed, she seems to have hit it off with Abi – come to think of it,

they have a certain amount in common. 'Drinks anyone?'

While I get the various drinks ready, I listen to Jenna telling

Marian how nice her room looks. Marian says she will to go up and

see it before she goes.

'Maggie, I'll give you my phone number before we go, if you

ever need a babysitter, let me know.' Sally said coming over to where

I am pouring boiling water into mugs. 'It is difficult with kids this age

to some extent, they don't think they need minding, but I frequently

think that this is the worst age - they get into all sorts of pickles and

don't know how to get themselves out – especially boys.'

'Thanks, Sally, I appreciate that.' I said gratefully, 'I've not got

anywhere to go as yet, but I’m working on it.'

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Gary and the boys materialise about fifteen minutes later,

Mickey carrying his wellies. 'We’ve done it, Aunt Maggie.' he said

'And I've brought my boots down.'

'Is it all tidy up there, Gary?' I asked, 'Do I need to check it?'

'I think it will do, Maggie.' he said with a grin.

The boys immediately look brighter and Duncan opens his

mouth, but I jump in before he can ask.

'Yes, Duncan, you can go out in the field now if you wish. But

boots on - I'll put some newspaper down for when you come back.

Please remember you must not, repeat not, frighten the animals and

don't go out of the field without asking permission first.' I said

looking at both of the boys to check they understand.

Grinning at each other, they boot up and rush out of the back

door, leaving it wide open … Oh well. I go to close it as Ben comes

into the room.

'I just rang Jake, Mum.' he said, putting his mobile back into his

pocket 'They haven't finished yet and he said that they'll get

something to eat down there.'

'Jake’s Katie's boyfriend,' Sally explained 'He and Katie are

helping out backstage at the theatre this afternoon - they're running a

technical rehearsal or something for the operatic society - I don't

know the ins and outs of it all - but Jake's dad is the musical director.

The society is putting on a show called 'Mack & Mabel' all next

week.'

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'Well, I think we have done all we can here.' Gary announced.

'We'd better leave you in peace, Maggie.'

Jenna suddenly looks tense … she's not the only one. Marian

gives her a hug while I go to the back door and call Mickey - he

quickly runs across to the back door, gives his Gran a hug and dashes

back to rejoin Duncan. Within five minutes, they have all got into

their cars, leaving Jenna and I watching as they manoeuvre their way

out of the gates. I suddenly remember that Marian said she would go

up and look at Jenna's room … damn, she forgot.

Together we go back into the kitchen and I start gathering up the

mugs.

'Can you wipe this lot up for me, Jenna?' I said filling the bowl

with soapy water. 'There's a tea towel over there. I thought we'd have

spaghetti bolognese for dinner, tonight. Is that all right for you?' I

asked as she starts wiping the mugs I have washed. 'The mugs go on

the hooks over there.'

'Oh, I see.' she said, 'Yes, spaghetti would be great.'

'Do you like cooking?' I asked, watching her as she carefully

hangs the mugs on the hooks as though terrified of breaking

something.

'I've not done any. Gran did all the cooking.'

'Oh, well, if you'd like to, I'd be pleased for you to help me - I've

never had a daughter and Duncan isn't particularly interested in food

except from the point of view of eating it.' I commented

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'Yes, please. I’d like that …' she said with a shy smile, 'if it's

not a nuisance.'

'You're not a nuisance, Jenna, but you must let me know if

there's anything you and Mickey are used to doing or not doing - I

want you to feel at home here.' I replied. 'Right, we need to make the

bolognese sauce …. If you'd like to wash your hands, Jenna, I'll show

you how I do that.'

She's not joking when she says she doesn't know anything about

cooking. I have to take her back to basics, showing her how to

prepare and chop the onions, how to brown the minced beef and all

the rest of it. She learns fast, asking intelligent questions. By the

time the bolognese sauce is simmering on the hob, we have got used

to each other. She’s opened up a little, telling me that she is working

for her grade 4 flute exam and asking if it will be all right for her to

practice in the house.

'Of course, it will, Jenna.' I confirmed, as we wash up the

utensils we have used. 'What else do you like doing?'

It transpires that she reads a lot and generally keeps out of the

way from what I can gather, though she doesn't put it like that.

Hmmm… Her response to my query as to whether she would like

some friends over doesn't come as any surprise - she doesn't mix

much with the other kids at school.

The boys erupt into the kitchen, almost painfully standing on the

newspaper in their effort to please, causing me to wonder what they

have been up to. But I am maligning them, a little tactful questioning

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reveals nothing worse than swinging on the bough of the apple tree

resulting in green smears down their jeans: perfectly reasonable

behaviour for two ten year old boys. I send them upstairs to clean up

a little while Jenna and I cook the spaghetti and lay the table.

The girl blushes as I explain to the boys that she prepared most

of the dinner and their appreciative comments as they tuck into the

food make her glow with pride. While we eat, I outline the rules of

the house.

'No. 1 is that no-one tells lies.' I said, 'I don't care what you

have done, just don't lie about it. Apart from that, don't leave the

house without asking me first and please be considerate of each other

and each other's property. We all have to live in this house - let's

make it pleasant for all of us. Is there anything I've missed, Duncan?'

'Only about doing a job properly without complaining or having

to be asked again.'

'Right,' I responded, not entirely sure that I remember ever

saying that … funny the things kids take on board sometimes. 'We’ll

all help with the washing up after dinner tonight - okay?'

I don't know if our little cooking session has given her more

confidence or if it is just that she knows where things go now, but

Jenna self-assuredly shows Mickey where to put the dishes after he

and Duncan have dried them up. I have promised to go and help her

unpack her books after dinner. The boys ask if they can play on the

computer and I have to smother a giggle as I overhear Duncan

pointing out to Mickey that I will strangle him if he so much as

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touches anything of mine on there, including the internet. Jenna

looks at me curiously and we smile at each other.

I sit on Jenna's bed while she kneels on the floor in what used to

be Matt's room, unpacking her two boxes of books and stacking them

on the shelves. She has an eclectic collection of books ranging over

classics like Jane Eyre and The Little White Horse to The Hobbit and

Harry Potter. She talks about the books as she arranges them,

explaining the plots of the ones I don't know and telling me why she

likes them. Her flute has pride of place on the table and there is a

music stand over by the window.

'I hope you'll be happy here, Jenna.' I said as she starts on the

second box.

She looks up at me and smiles. 'Thank you.' she said quietly

'You've been very kind, Aunt Maggie.'

'Do you see much of your mother, Jenna?'

She sits back on her heels, an inscrutable look on her face. 'No,

Mum doesn't often come to see us.' she said defensively 'She can't

help it, you know. It's an illness.'

'I've heard that.' I replied, treading very carefully. 'You must

miss her, Jenna.'

'Yes … but she's not Mum these days … the drink has changed

her.' she replied, her face down, 'She only started drinking too much

after Dad left. Mickey doesn't remember Dad, he was only about six

at the time, but I do. Mum was ever so upset when Dad went, she

used to talk to me a lot … one minute saying how much she missed

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him and the next telling me what a bastard he was. It was wine at

first, she'd sit and drink her way through a bottle while I sat with her.

Then she started on gin. She hated sitting up on her own though and

I'd stay up with her, keeping her company. She said it made her feel

less alone.'

'How old were you, Jenna?' I asked, various aspects of Jenna

are starting to make sense now.

'Ten … Dad went out to get me a birthday present and never

came back … at least that was what he said.' she

replied unemotionally … far to intentionally so. 'It was all right for a

while but then Mum lost her job, she was drinking too much, and

Gran moved us all in with her. Mum used to fight with Gran over the

drink - Gran wouldn't let her drink in the house, you see. In the end,

Gran managed to get Mum to go for some help and she's been in

rehab ever since. But she doesn't seem to get any better - she gets off

the drink for a while then something will happen, she has one drink,

gets drunk again and has to start all over.'

'That must be very hard for your Gran. How does Mickey cope

with it?'

'He doesn't really care much, as long as someone looks after

him, he's happy.' she said pragmatically 'He's more like my Dad.'

'But you're like your Gran, aren't you, Jenna?' I said - she looks

up at me suddenly.

'Really?' she asked, hope flaring in her eyes.

Is the child afraid she might turn out like her mother?

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'Yes, you both cope with things and do your best, don't you?' I

replied, she stares at the book in her hands digesting this. ‘Even I’ve

noticed that and I’ve only known you a short time.’

'But Gran is clever … and interesting … and attractive.' she

protested, her brow frowning slightly.

'Jenna, you are certainly not stupid and neither are you

unattractive.' I pointed out. 'At thirteen that's not bad going. I was a

right mess when I was thirteen - all spots and podge. Mind you, I've

still got the podge. You'll have to encourage me to diet a little.'

'You look all right, Aunt Maggie.' she said - I raise an eyebrow

ironically at her tactful comment and she grins 'Okay, so maybe you

could lose a little bit round the middle.'

'I think we'll go for a tramp on the hills tomorrow - get some

exercise.' I said robustly and she laughs.

Getting the boys quietened down for bed takes some doing but

in the end, by threatening them with dire consequences if they don't

settle down, I succeed in getting them both into bed in their respective

rooms.

Jenna goes up quite happily, giving me a shy hug as she says

goodnight.

Sunday dawns bright and sunny though, if the pale blue of the

sky is anything to go by, somewhat chilly. As the boys demolish

breakfast, I suggest that we go for a tramp along the Cotswold Way -

it runs across the village and we can walk for about five miles in a

circuit … with a picnic it would be pleasant. I had chatted to Jenna

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before the boys came down, showing her on the map the route I

usually take and she is already enthusiastic. I shouldn’t imagine that

Marian has felt up to taking them out for walks and the like much

recently. From what Jenna has said, Marian has been getting

progressively more poorly for nearly a year now. Poor woman … I

wonder how she is feeling.

The picnic suggestion goes down well with the boys - unlike my

request that they make their beds … properly. Mickey is definitely

not impressed when I insist that he straightens the bottom sheet before

throwing the duvet at the bed, but by the third attempt he has got the

hang of it - I am nothing if not persistent.

I’m pretty sure that washing was pretty nominal as far as the

boys went today, but I’ll fight that battle tomorrow.

Jenna and I prepare some sandwiches and, with the promise that

they can all select the beverage of their choice at the local

supermarket on the way, we load up Duncan's backpack - the boys are

going to share the carrying until lunch, and then I will carry it back. It

was agreed that they will do half hour shifts - I have my watch

primed.

‘Aunt Maggie, we need to time how long it takes to get to the

bus stop.’ Jenna reminded me as we set off down the road

‘It’s a good job you’re on the ball, Jenna, I’d completely

forgotten about it.’ I said, quickly checking my watch.

She grins at me and comments that I have lots to think about.

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I insist that we walk together through the estate, even though it

is a Sunday, there are a lot of cars around and the boys are still

slightly hyper. I have to call Duncan back a couple of times but by

the time we get to the supermarket, they are calmer. We stand looking

at the drinks on offer for a full ten minutes while they make up their

minds, by which time, I am beginning to wonder if this was a sensible

idea. However, we eventually get to the checkout and, pausing to

pack the drinks in the backpack, are soon on our way.

Once we are on the bridleway, I let the boys run - with the

proviso that they don’t go too far ahead - like dogs let off the leash,

they rush off together; Jenna and I following at a more sedate pace.

There are still blackberries on the hedgerows and, when the boys

come back to check if it is time to swop the backpack, I notice t he

tell-tale purple stains round their mouths - well, it won't do them any

harm.

Jenna and I talk about all sorts of things but most of all she talks

about her mother and some of the things they used to do together

before she started drinking.

‘What’s your mum’s name?’ I asked at one point, no-one has

mentioned this before.

‘Fiona. It’s Scottish, I think. I was born in Scotland.’

‘Oh? Why was that?’

‘Dad was working up there – he works in the oil industry and

was on the oil rigs at the time.’ Jenna answered, ‘We lived up there

until I was about six. I can just about remember Mum taking me up

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to a hill somewhere and showing me the sea, telling me that my daddy

was out there somewhere.’

‘What happened after that?’

‘Dad’s job finished or something, but anyway, we came down to

Bristol. Mickey was about three at the time. Mum and Dad moved

into a small house in a village called Pill. I went to the school there

and Mickey went to the nursery. There were two schools on the same

site – the infants with a nursery class and the juniors. It was a nice

school. I liked it there. Mum was working in the local Co-op. Of

course, when we came here, I went straight to the comprehensive.’

‘So you didn’t know anyone at all when you started there?’ I

said, understanding to some extent why she is so isolated at school.

‘No … and then they found out about Mum.’ She said, falling

silent as the boys come running back to show me some conkers they

have found.

The two boys barely take breath before dashing off again.

Jenna and I stop at a bench to look at the view - the village is

laid out below us like a model village and, after taking a few minutes

to orientate herself, Jenna points out their Gran's cottage. There is

washing flapping in the garden. It seems strange seeing it, though I

can’t say why.

'I was talking to Abi yesterday, Aunt Maggie.' Jenna said

apropos of nothing as far as I can see. 'She wants to be a solicitor like

Gary, she was telling me about it.'

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'Your Gran was a solicitor before she stopped work.' I

commented, seeing the connection now. 'She was a very good one, so

I've been told.'

'Was she?' Jenna asked, 'I know she used to work with Gary,

but she never talks about it.'

We sit there for a few minutes watching a dog running about in

a field below us. Its master is throwing a stick for it.

'Aunt Maggie, Abi was saying that she hasn't got any parents.'

'Yes, I believe her parents were killed in an earthquake a couple

of years ago. She lives with Mrs Richards.'

'She hasn’t got a Mum or Dad to encourage her … yet she wants

to be a solicitor.' Jenna went on. 'I reckon she'll do it, too.'

'I don't know Abi well, Jenna, but if she really wants to do it

badly enough and is good enough to achieve it, there's no reason why

she shouldn't.' I said, 'Anyone can do that. Having parents isn't a pre-

requisite for success.'

'But the girls at school go on about how I'll never be anything

because my Mum's an alcoholic.' she said bleakly.

No wonder the girl is so negative … I can see I shall have to

ring up the school and have a little chat with them.

'That is ridiculous, Jenna.' I replied stoutly, 'On that basis, your

Mum should have been successful because her mother definitely was.

If negatives count then positives should too - you can't have it both

ways. What do you want to do when you leave school? Have you got

any ideas?'

119

'I’d like to be a writer or a journalist.' she replied shyly, 'I like

words.'

'Have you written anything yet?' I asked, intrigued by this girl.

'A few things.' she admitted, as though owning up to some sort

of questionable habit.

'I'd like to have a look sometime. If you don't mind, that is.'

The boys run back down the path, time to change the backpack

again. We move on again.

There is a wood about halfway round the circuit, it's on the top

of a small hill, a little way off the path, and we decide to eat our

picnic there.

The boys discover yet another horse chestnut tree and start

hunting for more conkers on the ground underneath it. I love conkers,

the beautiful sheen on them appeals to me. I have a vague idea that I

read somewhere that they can be used in a dye … I mention this to

Jenna, explaining how I fancy trying some spinning, that leads us onto

my weaving and from thence to knitting and crochet .. she’s never

tried any of them and is interested.

After lunch the boys are fractionally less rumbustuous,

obviously worn out by all their running around earlier, Duncan walks

with me for a stretch while Mickey talks to Jenna. It is very

reassuring to see how positive Duncan is about having Mickey to live

with us. If anything, the effect is positive – Duncan’s been a lot more

boylike than I am used to seeing, that's good. No child, boy or girl,

should be too restrained at the age of ten.

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Chapter 7

The walk seems to have worn the boys out - they are content to

sit watching a DVD when we get back while Jenna helps me to

prepare dinner. While we eat, I suggest that they might like to give

their Gran a ring and have a little chat. Jenna is enthusiastic.

‘But Duncan and I want to finish watching that DVD…’ Mickey

moaned, screwing up his nose

‘That’s thoughtless of you, Mickey.’ I said, ‘Your Gran does a

lot for you. I’d have thought the least you could do would be to give

her a few minutes of your time. Especially as I’m sure she’d be

delighted to hear from you … you should think less about what you

want and more about what she would like.’

He sits sullen at the table until the ice cream they are having for

dessert is produced. Once the dishes have been done after dinner, I

hear Mickey whisper to Duncan that they should sneak off and finish

the DVD but, before I can intervene, Duncan (bless him!) tells

Mickey that he ought to ring his Gran.

'Yes, Mickey, you know she’ll be missing you.' Jenna said

overhearing this interchange.

In the face of all this opposition, he reluctantly gives in and

follows Jenna into the office to make the call. They are on the phone

for about twenty minutes.

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'I told you Gran would be pleased to hear from you, Mickey.'

Jenna said as they come out of the office. 'Gran sends her love, Aunt

Maggie. Is it okay if I go to do some flute practice?'

'Of course, Jenna. Did you tell your Gran what you’ve been

doing today?' I asked, watching Mickey, who is still sulking a little.

He nods but doesn't say anything, just standing there.

'What did she say, Mickey?' I continued, determined that he is

not going to get away with this display of showing off.

'She was pleased I'd enjoyed the picnic.' he said morosely, his

lack of enthusiasm robbing the words of any meaning.

'Good.' I replied with a smile, if through gritted teeth - sulking

drives me potty. 'But that walk must have worn you out, Mickey.

You obviously need an early night … go on, up to bed with you.'

That brings him to life.

'But I want to see the end of the film.' He protested, animated

for the first time since I suggested he rings his Gran.

'Perhaps if you had been as enthusiastic about ringing your Gran

as you are about the film, I would be more sympathetic.' I said

cuttingly.

The sullen look descends again.

'Mickey, sulking just does not cut any ice with me and the

sooner you learn that the better - you just go into the office and have a

good look in the mirror on the wall. Then come back and tell me just

how much you would want to be nice to someone with a look like that

on their face.'

122

The sullen look becomes a glare but he goes off obediently

enough. He is in there for several minutes while I debate with myself

whether I have gone too far - that's the problem with other people's

children, you never quite know.

Hearing a movement in the office, I concentrate on looking as

nonchalant as I can, stroking Toby, who is sitting on my lap. I don't

look at Mickey when he comes back into the room, but continue

giving the cat my full attention.

He stands in front of me, silent, I glance up at him. He is

looking uncertain of himself - a first for Mickey, at least since he has

been here.

'It's not a very nice face, is it, Mickey?'

He’s apparently intent on looking at his feet, but shakes his

head. For a moment, I wonder if perhaps this is an act for my benefit

then dismiss the thought as being cynical.

'I don't want to see it again, if you don't mind, Mickey.'

He looks up at me, his eyes enormous.

'Can you try to do that?'

'I'll try.' he said slowly, 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude.'

'I realise that, but you must try not to do it - it is most

unattractive, Mickey.' I replied as Duncan sticks his head round the

kitchen door,

'Mum, can we watch the end of the film?'

123

Glancing at the clock, I see it is nearly eight thirty - I'd like them

to be in bed by nine tonight. They’ve got school tomorrow and this

weekend has been rather disjointed ...

'Not tonight, Duncan. There isn't time before bedtime - perhaps

tomorrow night.' I replied.

'Oh …' Mickey started, his face sulky.

I look at him and raise an eyebrow … he stops, looks rather

embarrassed and makes a determined effort to change his

expression.

'Okay, Mum.' Duncan said resignedly - he can sulk at times as

well but thank goodness not right now. 'Well, we can look forward

to it tomorrow. The circuit’s still out, Mickey - let's go and have a

race. I bet I can beat you this time.'

The boys go off together arguing in a friendly fashion, their

footsteps sounding up the stairs.

With the kitchen door open I can just hear the sound of the flute

as Jenna practises. It sounds nice … no, that bit can’t be right … ah,

she’s realised and is going over that phrase again … yes, that’s better.

I sit in the kitchen, stroking Toby and thinking about the day …

that conversation with Jenna was enlightening. She’s had a rough

time of it over the past few years by the look of it … and I was feeling

sorry for myself on Friday night at the fireworks … just goes to show.

The boys don’t make a fuss when I go up to tell them it is time

for bed – frankly I think the walk in the fresh air has genuinely tired

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them out. After a brief skirmish about face washing and teeth

cleaning, I tuck them both up in their beds.

For a second, I hesitate outside Jenna’s room before knocking

gently and sticking my head round the door. Jenna is sitting at the

table reading.

‘Jenna, love, you don’t have to sit up here on your own. Bring

your book down and sit in comfort in the lounge. Would you like any

supper?’

She settles in the lounge with Toby on her lap while I go and

make her a hot chocolate.

On my way back with her drink, I hear her talking to Toby, and

pause in the hall for a moment, listening: ‘Toby, you are a beautiful

cat. Did you know that? Are you going to be my friend? … I’d like

that.’

As I stand there, a sudden thought occurs to me – I don’t usually

allow Toby to sleep on beds, but maybe Jenna would appreciate it …

noisily bumping the lounge door to warn her that I am about to enter,

I carry her drink into the lounge. We sit in a companiable silence

each reading our own book for half an hour. Toby purring loudly the

whole time as Jenna strokes him, only breaking off when she stops to

turn a page. When it is time for her to go to bed, I casually suggest

that she might like to take Toby up with her, though she’ll have to

leave the bedroom door open so he can get out if he needs to.

‘Oh, can I?’ she said, her face lighting up with delight ‘Oh,

that’d be lovely. Thank you.’

125

Hugging the still purring cat, she goes up the stairs, whispering

to him as she goes. Yes, that was a good idea.

When I go up to my own bed later on, I check on all three

children. The boys are sound asleep, Mickey spreadeagled, one arm

hanging over the side of the bed. Jenna is asleep too, Toby curled up

happily in the bend of her knees.

I get Jenna up in plenty of time for school - she looks

disorientated when I wake her, clearly not registering where she is,

but soon comes to and, with a bleary grin in my direction, she goes

off to have a shower. Toby isn’t there – clearly he went out at some

stage in the night, but I daresay that as the nights get colder, he’ll stay

in more often, especially as he has a bed to sleep on. The boys don't

need to be up yet so Jenna can have free range in the bathroom.

We had a long talk yesterday about what everyone would like

for breakfast - the general consensus being that cereal and toast would

suit all of them which makes my life a little easier. Cooking breakfast

is so fussy and I'm not terribly wide awake in the mornings. I can

cope with bowls for cereal and plates for toast. If it gets really cold, I

shall let them have porridge, I can manage that.

Jenna appears showered and dressed just as I am putting the last

of the plates on the table in the kitchen. While she helps herself to

cereal, I go up to rouse the boys. As per usual, Duncan is impossible

to wake - I open the curtains as noisily as I can, call his name and

ruthlessly strip the duvet off his top half with the result that he groans

feebly, suggesting to me that he is partly awake although his eyes are

126

obstinately closed. I leave him to come round and go off to try my

luck with Mickey. He is easier than Duncan but doesn't look

impressed when I suggest he should have a shower. Duncan is going

to use the shower cubical off my bedroom so there is no possible

excuse for either of them to say they haven’t got time to shower.

Leaving Mickey looking for his dressing gown, I go back into

Duncan’s room to find he’s sitting groggily on the edge of his bed -

mission accomplished …

Leaving them to it, I go back downstairs.

As I expected, Jenna’s ready in good time and it is with a degree

of pride that I give her a hug and watch as she goes off to get her

school bus. Now to get those boys moving. The water on the

bathroom floor suggests that a shower has taken place so I give

Mickey the benefit of the doubt … he doesn’t know it yet, but he is at

a disadvantage as I am a time-honoured winner in the battle to get a

boy to wash. Duncan went through a phase last year when contact

with any form of clean, warm water was an anathema to him,

especially if there was any soap in the vicinity; it amazed me the

lengths he would go to convince me that he had washed properly …

more than twice the effort it would have taken to do what he had been

asked to do in the first place! However, looking them both over as

they sit at the breakfast table, they don't look too bad.

'More toast, anyone?' I asked as they demolish the food on the

table.

127

Both boys ask for another round … I had better get some more

bread on my way back from school this morning.

'Is there anything special you need for school today?' I asked -

I've always tried to make Duncan self-sufficient when it comes to

remembering for himself but I doubt Mickey is used to that.

The boys confer for a moment and come to the conclusion that,

apart from dinner money for Duncan (Mickey qualifies for free school

meals), they don't need anything particular. The all important football

training, for which they have to take their kit, is on Tuesday and

Friday - that much I do know. It helps that they are in the same class

– we stand a good chance of remembering if they need to take

anything special. Duncan is a past master at ‘forgetting’ to give me

letters from school informing me that he needs something specific on

a certain day until the last minute, which has resulted in some frantic

moments.

Caroline and Daisy are just walking out of their driveway as we

come down the road and they pause to wait for us. 'How’s it going?'

Caroline asked as we follow the three children along the pavement.

'Okay, I think.' I replied, 'They’re nice kids.'

'Good. Have you got time for coffee today?' she said, raising

her voice as her daughter reaches the main road 'Daisy, wait for me

at the crossing!'

'Yes, why don't you come up to me for a change.' I suggested,

I've been down to her place the last couple of times. 'That reminds

128

me, Caroline, the comprehensive school - should I contact them about

Jenna?'

'Yes, that would be a good idea - if only so that they know who

you are. They’re very helpful up there I’ve always found.' Caroline

answered. 'How about if I come up to your place about twoish? Then

we can walk down to school together afterwards.'

Sally waves a hello to me as I pass her office window after

dropping Duncan - I cheerfully wave back.

When I call in at the bakers to get some bread, I notice that they

have current buns on offer – after hesitating for a moment, I decide to

get a bagful … the kids will enjoy those. It's rather fun having a large

family.

I whiz through tidying up the house and give the kitchen floor a

wash. We spend a lot of time in the kitchen and the floor gets plenty

of punishment. As I go through the bedrooms, collecting the odd

dirty mug, I note Mickey hasn't made his bed … I'll have to talk to

that young man. Poor kid - he's having to cope with a lot at the

moment.

Right … what’s next? Oh yes …. I go into the office and dig

out the telephone directory, flicking through the pages looking for the

phone number for Jenna’s school …. Hang on a moment, didn't

Marian give me that information in the file she gave me the other

day. I put the directory down and reach down the file from the shelf

where I put it for safe keeping, laying it on the desk to leaf through

the contents. Medical cards … birth certificates …. ah yes, a sheet

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showing school details. I stand reading through the information,

looking for the name of a contact … deputy head - Mrs Bailey … then

reach for the phone.

'May I speak to Mrs Bailey, please?' I asked.

'I'll just put you through to her office.' the woman on the other

end of the phone said, 'Who’s calling, please?'

I give my name … then wonder if it will mean anything to Mrs

Bailey. Oh well.

'Mrs Jones, what can I do for you?' a pleasant voice asked a few

moments later.

'We’ve not met, Mrs Bailey, I'm fostering Jenna Thompson.' I

started not quite sure how to introduce myself.

'Oh, yes.' Mrs Bailey said, her tone changing as the penny

drops. 'Her grandmother phoned us the other day and gave us your

details. Thank you for contacting me, Mrs Jones. Can I just check

that we've got everything we need … if you'll just hang on while I log

into the right screen … ah yes, here we are Jenna Thompson.'

She reads out my address and landline number then asks for my

mobile telephone number. 'Now, is there anything specific you’re

calling for, Mrs Jones?'

'Well, yes, there is.' I replied, slightly uncertain of my ground.

'I'm a little concerned about Jenna. I hope you don't think I'm being

foolish … I’ve noticed that she's got very low opinion of herself and,

while I was talking to her yesterday about what she wants to do when

she grows up, she mentioned that the other girls in her class keep

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telling her she will never be anything because her mother's an

alcoholic. She wasn’t complaining just stating it as a fact. I don’t

think she is the sort to complain.'

'Oh dear.' Mrs Bailey said, 'No, I don't think you’re being

foolish, Mrs Jones. We’ve been concerned about Jenna here in school

but we've not been able to get anything out of her. As you say, she is

not one to complain. That’s very useful, what you’ve told me, Mrs

Jones - I'll have a word with her tutor.'

'I'm also a little worried that she doesn't appear to have any

friends.' I added, encouraged by the woman's reaction.

'Hmmm … I think I shall have a chat with Jenna, just something

friendly. When is it her grandmother goes into hospital?'

'Tomorrow. I gather the op will be about lunchtime. I'm going

to ring the hospital later in the afternoon.'

'I'll arrange to see Jenna tomorrow afternoon then, I imagine

she’ll be worried about her grandmother - perhaps you would let me

know the outcome of the operation, Mrs Jones.'

We discuss the likely options and how Jenna might be affected.

Mrs Bailey is very helpful and I find myself warming to her.

'If you have any other concerns, please contact me, Mrs Jones.'

'Of course. Thank you, you have been most helpful.'

Satisfied, I make myself a coffee … nice to know the

comprehensive is that approachable … Duncan will be going there

next year … I suppose Mickey will too. Mrs Bailey seems very nice.

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When Caroline comes over just before two, I tell her about my

impressions of the school and why I phoned them up in the first place.

You can talk to Caroline about that sort of thing, she’s discretion itself

and her experience through work makes her opinion worth having;

she’s a very sensible woman.

'Yes, I've always found them very helpful.' she said, making

herself comfortable at the kitchen table. 'We had a spot of bother with

bullying when Bryony first went there but once we found out and told

them, they jumped on it very effectively. We’ve not had any trouble

since then. Kids are horrible to each other sometimes. Poor Jenna! It

must have been dreadful for her believing that rubbish. Didn't her

Gran do anything about it?'

'I don't think she knew about it, Caroline, I think Jenna’s one of

those kids that just accepts things and doesn't complain or ask for

help.' I replied thoughtfully. 'Mind you, Mickey’s very much his

Gran's favourite - not that Marian would neglect Jenna deliberately, I

think it is more that he's a boy. He's quite charming and uses it to get

his own way from what I have seen. We had a minor bust up last

night when I insisted he did something he didn't want to do - he

sulked and I had to take him to task over it.'

'Sounds as though you have taken to this like a duck to water,

Maggie!' Caroline commented with a laugh, 'You have found your

mission in life!'

'Idiot!' I replied laughing with her.

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It is not until I am walking back with Duncan that I remember I

meant to ask Caroline about Jan. We’d spent most of the afternoon

talking about Caroline’s husband, Jim. She’s worried about him –

he’s getting some odd aches and pains and being obstinate about

going to see the doctor. From there we sidetracked into discussing the

new appointment arrangements at the local surgery.

I get the kids to ring their Gran again after school while I get

their dinner ready - it is noticeable that Mickey is a lot less

antagonistic to the idea today. He and Duncan have a little homework

- after a brief discussion, it is agreed that they should finish their

homework and then, assuming it has been done properly, they can

watch the rest of the DVD from last night. Negotiating with them

seems to work quite well – it’s a tactic I have always used with

Duncan and, although Mickey is clearly unaccustomed to being

consulted about things, he seems to be getting the hang of how it

works. The boys ask if they can do their homework together … I am

dubious about this but they promise they'll do it properly, so I allow

them to work in the dining room … with the door to the kitchen open

so I can hear what is going on.

Jenna takes hers upstairs to her room.

By the time dinner is ready the boys are nearly finished. While

they finish off, I go upstairs to see how Jenna is doing. Her door is

slightly ajar and, as I go up the stairs, I’m disturbed to hear the sound

of muffled crying.

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'Jenna, whatever is the matter?' I asked rushing into her room

and putting my arms round the girl.

She is sitting at the table, her head in her hands. After a few

minutes, she stops sobbing and, wiping the back of her hand across

her eyes, pulls herself together.

'What's wrong?' I asked again.

'Sorry.' she said gruffly, 'I was just being silly.'

'Possibly, but what about?' I said gently smoothing the hair off

her forehead.

'It just suddenly struck me that Gran is going into hospital

tomorrow … I know she'll be all right … but …' She sniffs as the

tears threaten again.

'Oh Jenna.' I said, wondering what I can say to help her, 'That's

not silly, it's human. Of course, you’re worried about your Gran, but

the operation she's having is a fairly common one, lots of people have

it done. The doctors know what they are doing - she'll be fine.'

'Do you think so?' she asked, looking at me, her eyes drowned

in tears.

'I am sure of it, Jenna.' I said, hoping against hope that nothing

goes wrong tomorrow - oh well, if it does we’ll cope - the main thing

is that Jenna stops worrying now. 'Now why don't you go and wash

your face – dinner’s ready.'

The boys are waiting at the table by the time I go downstairs

with Jenna, I wouldn't say they are actually banging their cutlery on

the table, but the effect is similar. Duncan gives Jenna a concerned

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look, registering her red eyes, but Mickey is far more interested in

what I am dishing up onto his plate. I don’t blame him, he’s never

been taught to consider anyone other than himself from the look of it.

I deliberately don’t listen while Duncan chats to Matt after

dinner, but happen to overhear Duncan telling his father

enthusiastically about the new additions to the household, going on to

mention that Marian is having her op tomorrow – it’s obviously got

through to him that this is a cause for concern and I am absurdly

pleased that he realises it.

Mickey has come as a shock, not because he’s badly behaved …

because he’s not really … more that his grandmother’s care for him

has given him a crooked outlook on life … a selfishness which is

completely unintentional … that’s not fair on a child. But there again,

life has not been entirely fair on Marian either – she brought up her

daughter as well as she could, she’s now having to bring up her

grandchildren because her daughter can’t … she’s only doing what all

of us have to do – our best with what we’ve got.

Jenna seems more stable now, though I keep an eye on her,

asking if I can come up and listen to her when she asks if she can

practise her flute. As I realised when I heard her last night, she’s

quite good. I’ve never been particularly musical myself and certainly

never participated actively in making music, though I like listening to

it, but the sounds she produces certainly seem pleasant to my ears. I

tell her so, enjoying the glow of sheer delight which my pedestrian

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praise produces. I make a point of tucking her up at bedtime – Toby

happily curled up as before.

Surprisingly, it is Mickey who is in a tizz over breakfast. I don’t

know if it is Jenna’s upset the night before or what, but I’m bothered

to see that he is only playing with his cereal (a notable circumstance

for one who normally clears his plate and asks for more.).

Fortunately, Jenna has already left for school – she was quiet but

calm.

‘Gran will be all right, won’t she?’ he asked ‘I mean, she’s not

going to … um …’

‘I’m sure your Gran will be fine, Mickey. I’ll ring the hospital

later and find out how the operation went.’ I promised, ‘I doubt we’ll

be able to go and see her tonight because she’ll still be groggy from

the anaesthetic, but I’ll take you both in tomorrow.’

This seems to placate him and, although he is quieter than

usual, he is not so obviously uptight by the time I get him to school. I

drop into the school office to see Sally – they should know what’s

going on just in case he is upset. Mind you, the thought of football

training has gone a long way towards to comforting him. Sally is

very practical and makes a note to tell Mickey’s teacher – although it

is unlikely, it would be as well to avoid references to hospitals, illness

and death today for the class generally.

‘So have you given any thought to how you are going to make a

social life for yourself yet, Maggie?’ she asked, leaning against her

desk.

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‘Not really.’ I replied with a sigh, remembering only too clearly

how awful it was at the firework display.

‘It’s difficult, isn’t it?’ she said sympathetically,‘I know just

what it’s like, I was trying to sort out what I was going to do when

Gary came along. Not that I’m suggesting that it is any good sitting

around waiting for Prince Charming to come along, but at least you

can have your eyes open so if he does, you don’t miss it.’

I laugh and comment that I doubt very much that any Prince

Charming is going to come along for me.

‘You never know, Maggie.’ She commented with a smile.

Marian told me that it was pointless ringing the hospital before

three in the afternoon but that doesn’t stop me thinking about it from

midday onwards.

Sally is hanging round the school entrance when I go down to

pick up Duncan and Mickey. ‘Any news?’ she asked anxiously

‘Only Gary’s worrying.’

‘No, I’ll ring the hospital when I get home.’ I replied ‘I’ll call

you if you like.’

‘Thanks – I’ll probably still be here, Maggie.’ Sally replied.

‘But you’ve got my home number haven’t you?’

I promise to let her know as soon as I know something. Nice of

Gary to be concerned.

Mickey doesn’t ask but his not asking is very loud.

Conversationally, I say to both of the boys that I’ll ring the hospital

when we get home and his brow clears slightly.

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When I do eventually get through to the appropriate ward, I’m

very surprised that I have no trouble getting the information I want. I

anticipated having to prove who I was but no, the nurse or whoever it

is I speak to, is very helpful once I have given my name, and informs

me that Mrs Benson came through the op very well and is

comfortable, though I reserve my judgement on that bit. I doubt very

much she is comfortable but hospitals use the word to mean anything

up to screaming in agony from what I can see. She tells me that I’ll

be able to bring the children in to visit tomorrow night at six thirty. I

make a note of the ward number and pass the news on to Mickey who

reacts by challenging Duncan to another race on the circuit.

The phone rings virtually as soon as I hang up – it’s Mrs Bailey

from the secondary school.

‘I’m calling partly to find out how Mrs Benson is, and partly to

tell you that I’ve had Jenna with me most of the afternoon, Mrs Jones,

she’s been in a state – not surprisingly – but I think it’s been a

positive process. I’m just ringing to warn you that she’s on edge.’

She said kindly.

‘Thanks for ringing.’ I said, glancing at the clock.

It’s too late to catch Sally at school … I quickly ring her home

number … it’s engaged; I leave a message on her voice mail.

I wonder if I should walk down to meet Jenna from the bus … I

call up to the boys – they are content to be left here on their own and

promise to be good while I’m out. I’m only going to be a few

minutes anyway, half an hour at most.

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The sun is starting to head towards the horizon now and there is

a definite nip in the air despite the fact that it has been a sunny day

today – might be a frost tonight. As I approach the bus stop, I see the

school bus arrive and deposit its load of young people. I quickly spot

Jenna – she’s on her own whereas most of the others are chattering –

she looks dejected. She’s almost level with me before she sees me

and for a second I see panic cross her face.

‘Your gran’s fine.’ I said and see her relax with relief. ‘I rang

the hospital just now and they say the operation has gone very well.’

‘Oh thank goodness!’ she said, sounding years older than her

age. I put my arm round her shoulder and give her a hug. ‘Thank you

for coming to meet me, Aunt Maggie.’

‘It’s all right, Jenna.’ I replied, ‘Mrs Bailey rang to say you

were worrying.’

‘Did she?’ Jenna asked, looking at me sharply ‘I spent the

afternoon in her office. I’m not in trouble or something, am I?’

‘No, not at all, Jenna.’ I replied with a smile ‘Far from it, Mrs

Bailey was just aware that you would be worrying and thought you

might be better off out of the class this afternoon.’

‘She was very kind. We talked a lot … How’s Mickey?’

‘He’s fine.’ I reassured her.

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Chapter 8

Both Mickey and Jenna are excited after school on Wednesday –

we have dinner early and set off for the hospital. Marian’s in the

main hospital in Bristol so I have to fight my way through the rush

hour traffic – not my favourite exercise. However, despite a hold up

on the A4 due to a broken down lorry, we arrive in the vicinity of the

hospital just after six thirty and, once I have parked (no easy feat)

make our way through the labyrinth of corridors to the ward where

Marian is being cared for.

Mickey is very quiet, overawed perhaps by the hospital – I

doubt his life has included this particular experience before and

hospitals are pretty awesome places, especially if you are only ten

years old. Duncan is a lot more confident, telling Mickey all about

the time he came to visit his Gran when she was ill a few years ago.

I’m surprised he remembers that, to be honest … but it would be

unfair to say that he was making it up.

Despite the fact she had surgery yesterday, Marian has more

colour than when I saw her last week – obviously the benefits of the

treatment are making themselves felt. Both children cling to her for

several minutes while Marian hugs them and beams at me over their

heads. I’m glad I brought them in.

The visit goes well with the children telling her all about the

things they have been doing – Mickey and Duncan saw Fred Plaister

after school yesterday and have elicited a promise from Fred that they

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can go up to the farm at weekends to ‘help’. Not entirely sure what

they are going to help with, but Fred was happy for them to go and

I’m not going to discourage them. Marian obviously appreciates this

but listens to Mickey with a grave sincerity. Jenna just hangs onto her

Gran’s hand.

We stay for an hour but by that time Marian is looking tired so I

take the children home. The quick word I had with the nurse suggests

that Marian will be allowed home by the weekend if she continues to

progress as she is at the moment. Maybe we’ll have her over for

lunch on Sunday … she’ll be lonely at home all on her own and

doubtless not up to cooking properly. I’ll have a word with Sally.

Thursday, we go to visit again – no lorry this time but even so,

the traffic is so heavy we don’t arrive any earlier.

Come Friday, I’m almost blasé about the whole driving to

Bristol in the rush hour thing. As predicted, Marian tells us that she is

going home on Saturday afternoon – Gary is going to collect her.

When I spoke to Sally during the week, she said that they were going

to take a meal over to Marian on Sunday and we agreed that it was

probably sensible for her to stay at home for at least another week –

she went on to say that various people in the village would be going

round to see Marian so, if I can ensure that the children call in to see

her regularly, she should be all right.

After discussion with Mickey and Jenna, we come to the

conclusion that it would be sensible for me to take Mickey down to

see her after school one day and for Jenna to go there after school the

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next, with me driving down to pick her up an hour later. That way,

Marian will get to see both the children on a regular basis but not be

too worn out by the process.

I've not been down to Marian's cottage before but, after school

on Monday, I walk the boys there. Mickey is full of showing Duncan

his home ground - it is very gratifying to see how close the two boys

have become. So much so that, when I mention to Duncan the

possibility of going up to see Matt, he’s not particularly enthusiastic

as it would mean leaving Mickey behind.

Marian greets us with a big smile at the cottage door and I am

pleased to see Mickey give her a genuinely loving hug - he is thinking

less about himself these days though he still has lapses. He's not

stupid though and has realised that he actually benefits by co-

operating and considering other people; whilst this may not be the

best reason for being nice, it is a start.

The cottage is one of the older properties with a narrow frontage

onto the

lane leading to the church. The house is a lot larger than it looks,

going back quite a long way before opening out onto a pleasant

garden with a couple of small trees. Marian offers the boys a snack

and, each clutching a chocolate biscuit, they escape into the garden.

'Coffee, Maggie?' Marian suggested, watching through the

kitchen window as the boys chase around the garden.

'Yes, please. How are you feeling, Marian?'

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'A lot better, though I get tired very quickly.' she admitted,

waiting for the kettle to boil. 'The nurse came round today to check I

was okay and she’s pleased with the way the wound’s healing, so it's

all going according to plan ... it's just frustrating that I can't get back

to normal as quickly as I'd like.'

'You can't expect to have that sort of operation and just walk

away as though nothing has happened, Marian, frustrating though that

is.' I commiserated, 'There's no point pushing yourself and doing

some damage which will only make the process longer.'

'I know.' she said with a sigh. 'But it’s frustrating all the same.

I'm not used to sitting around doing nothing all day.'

'Well, make the most of it, Marian, it won't last long.' I said

taking the mug she is offering me.

'I suppose not.' she said with a reluctant grin. 'Let's go and sit

down in the lounge, Maggie. I can't stand for too long at the moment

and although this kitchen is easy to work in, it is not big enough to sit

down in.'

She leads me into the lounge – a pretty room with a delightful

inglenook fireplace in which an open fire is burning merrily - we

settle comfortably.

'And how are you getting on now that you are footloose and

fancy free, Maggie?'

'Not really doing anything about it at the moment, Marian. Not

entirely sure what I can do, if truth be told. I've never been in this

position before.'

143

'What never? Surely as a teenager you had to think about some

sort of social life.'

'No, not really.' I replied, explaining how it had been for me.

'Oh dear! You'll need to build up a social life of some sort.'

Marian said thoughtfully, 'I'm afraid you're going to find that some of

the couples you used to spend time with no longer invite you to things

now you are on your own, Maggie. It came as a dreadful shock to me

when I discovered that.'

I blink at her, surely that won't happen ... then I remember that

Jan’s firework party … that would explain why I haven't seen her

lately.

'So it’s happened already.’ Marian said reading my face all too

clearly. ‘You can't really blame them, Maggie. For a start, you make

the numbers uneven and then there’s the fact that married couples feel

uneasy with a stray female in their midst - the women don't trust their

husbands necessarily and they definitely don't trust you.' Her face

becomes very grim for a moment before she goes on, ‘I even received

propositions from men who were working on the basis that I should

be grateful to be noticed by them. It’s no joke, believe me.'

'But that’s gross!' I commented, appalled. 'You're not serious.'

'Perfectly serious, Maggie.' she said, sipping her tea 'But I was

slightly older than you are, in my forties when I split up with my

husband, so the circumstances were different. You must start

thinking seriously about getting out though. Perhaps, I could help out

by babysitting for you.'

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'That's very kind of you, Marian, I'd appreciate that.' I replied,

still reeling slightly from the impact of her words and the realisation

that I’d been left out deliberately by Jan.

The boys dash into the lounge breathlessly, Mickey asking if it

is all right for him to take Duncan up to his room. With a smile,

Marian tells him it is fine and they disappear again, thundering up the

stairs like a herd of buffalo.

We chat a little longer and I remember that I was intending to go

to a lecture at the Institute. I mention it to Marian.

‘When is it, Maggie?’

‘Thursday of this week, but you can’t babysit, Marian, so don’t

even suggest it. You need to get better before you even contemplate

doing anything. Oh well, never mind.’

Jenna helps me prepare dinner – she’s becoming quite a capable

cook now. I’m toying with the idea of teaching her how to knit.

When I mention it, she is enthusiastic and I promise to get the needles

and wool out sometime this week.

The phone rings just as we finish our meal . Duncan runs into the

office to pick it up, expecting it to be Matt. However, he reappears

quickly, telling me that it is for me.

‘Who is it, Duncan?’

‘Mrs Richards.’

As I take the phone from him, I wonder what Sally wants.

‘Hello, Sally. What can I do for you?’

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‘I think it is more a case of what we can do for you, Maggie.’

She said cheerfully. ‘I understand you need a babysitter for Thursday

night – Marian rang me.’

‘Oh, that was kind of her. Yes, I’m thinking of going to a

lecture at the Institute.’ I replied, greatly touched by Marian’s

kindness.

‘I can let you have Abi or Ben.’ She said ‘Either should be able

to cope though I think perhaps it might be good if Abi came over.

She seemed to think that Jenna might appreciate it. I gather they’ve

been talking to each other at school.’

‘That would be lovely, Sally.’ I answered, pleased that Jenna

appears to have made a friend, even if it is not in her school year.

‘The lecture’s at 7.30.’

‘I’ll send Abi over for seven then.’ Sally said and I can hear her

writing it down. ‘What’s the lecture on?’

‘Jane Austen and her influence on modern literature.’

‘High brow stuff, eh!’ Sally laughed, ‘Well, I hope you enjoy it.

It will do you good getting away from the kids if nothing else.’

Matt rings an hour later and I smile as I hear Duncan tell his dad

about the football practice success. Leaving him to it, I go and sit in

the lounge, making the most of some time with Mickey on his own.

Jenna is working upstairs on her homework. It isn’t easy getting

Mickey talking, we haven’t a lot of common ground, but I have the

brainwave of asking if he is enjoying working with Fred Plaister and

that gets him going. It says a lot that I am still unsure what exactly

146

the boys did up at the farm when he has finished, but that’s not

important.

'Mum, Dad wants a word.' Duncan said, sticking his head round

the door.

‘Oh, all right.’ I said slightly surprised.

'Hi, Matt. How are things?' I said picking up the receiver.

'Fine, fine, Maggie. Duncan says everything is going well with

Mickey and Jenna - he seems to be enjoying having them there.' Matt

commented – not sure why but I get the feeling he is nervous about

something.

'Yes, it's all going well - now that their Gran is getting over the

operation, they have settled in well. New job still going okay?'

'Yes, though I've got a disciplinary problem with one of the

managers – he doesn't think the rules about timekeeping apply to him

and has been more or less turning up as and then he feels like it. His

deputy is tearing her hair out trying to cover for him. Still, I'm hoping

he'll pull up his socks without me having to resort to anything really

nasty.'

Matt hates having to take people to task, working very much on

the basis of reasonableness with his staff. It works most of the time

but occasionally, as now apparently, he gets one person who thinks

that his easy-going nature is an invitation to take advantage. When

Matt does jump on people, he jumps hard so I imagine the chap

concerned is going to have a very rude awakening.

147

'But there are two things I wanted to talk to you about, Maggie.'

Matt went on 'Firstly, can you give some thought to when Duncan can

come up to visit - I was thinking perhaps a weekend. Not sure about

transport ... what do you think about him travelling on the train on his

own?'

'I don't know about that, Matt, it is a long way and he's only

ten.' I said, thinking about it. 'It would be several hours on the train

and that's a long time for him to be on his own in a strange place.'

'I suppose you're right, Maggie. I'd not thought of it like that.

No ... that wouldn't be appropriate. I'll have another think about that.'

He clears his throat slightly - a sure sign he is unsure about

something. I wait to hear what is coming but I think I can guess.

'Maggie ... I've met someone.' he finally blurted out.

'That's nice.' I replied in as reassuring a fashion as I can, ‘Tell

me about her.' His relief comes down the phone line in waves ... silly

man!

'She's divorced, Maggie, and works as a secretary - I met her at a

quiz they held at the pub the other week.' he said, enthusiastic now

that it seems I am not going to be upset. 'Her name's Denny.'

'I'm really pleased for you, Matt.' I said smiling at his tone.

'Have you told Duncan?'

'No, I thought it better not to just yet - after all, we've only

known each other for a couple of weeks.'

He chats on a little longer telling me about a day out they had at

a local museum then, reminding me that I'm to let him know about

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Duncan visiting, rings off. I'm genuinely pleased that he's found

someone - it must be incredibly lonely up there, not knowing people

and in a new job. From what he said of her, she sounds nice. It is no

great surprise that he's found a girl friend: although he is no Adonis,

Matt is a pleasant looking bloke and kind with it. I chuckle to myself,

thinking about the absurdity of our marriage - if I can be so unaffected

by the information that Matt has found another woman, it really does

underline how right we are to separate.

For a moment, I feel a pang of loneliness ... it is one thing both

of us being on our own, but now it’s just me … that’s different … I

catch sight of myself in the mirror here in the office ... I see a dark

haired woman ... not unpleasant to look at but no great beauty either

... it’s undeniable that I look my age but as I'm only 35, that's no great

disadvantage. I smile at myself ... I'm not unattractive when I do that.

I really must get my act together and find some sort of social activity.

I tell the kids that I am going out on Thursday evening over

breakfast on Tuesday. Mickey looks uncertain for a moment, but his

anxiety disappears as soon as I explain that Abi is coming over to

babysit. Jenna looks positively pleased; Duncan merely gets on with

demolishing his cereal.

I spend the morning looking for the box containing my knitting

needles and wool … I could have sworn I’d put it in the cupboard

under the stairs but it’s not there. Now where could it be? Sitting

back on my heels on the hall floor, I think … when did I last use

them? It must have been just before last Christmas – I made a scarf to

149

stick in Duncan’s stocking, that’s right. Perhaps the knitting stuff got

put away with the Christmas things …. I go upstairs to the cupboard

on the landing and dig around in there. Ah yes! There it is.

Carrying the box carefully downstairs – one side is starting to

disintegrate by the looks of it – I take it into the kitchen and dig out

the packing tape, taping the box together more securely. Yes, that’s

better. Right, when we get a moment I shall get Jenna started on that

… she can knit a scarf for starters.

I spend the afternoon cooking, using some of the eggs which

Fred has left on my doorstep using the last of the loaf to make a bread

and butter pudding and putting a casserole in the over to cook slowly.

That should warm the kids up tonight.

It is bitterly cold today – maybe I should think about turning up

the thermostats on the storage heaters.

The boys are full of football practice when I pick them up from

school. Mickey telling me enthusiastically how good Duncan was at

a specific move they were taught today. It is nice hearing Duncan’s

praises sung and watching his eyes bright with pride. This is where

Matt was always good – he shared Duncan’s enthusiasm for football

whereas I don’t have a clue about it. However, they settle down to do

their homework while I go down to collect Jenna from Marian’s.

Duncan greets me at the door on Tuesday as we get back. ‘A

man came to see you, Mum.’ He said.

‘What man?’

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I mentally check that I haven’t inadvertently forgotten someone

was calling about something. We don’t tend to get stray callers up

this end of the street so it’s unlikely to have been a salesman of any

kind.

‘I don’t know, he said he’d come back later.’ Duncan said

unhelpfully turning his mind to other, more vital, subjects. ‘What’s

for dinner?’

The doorbell goes just as I am clearing up after dinner – the

casserole and pudding went down very well with Jenna asking

intelligent questions about how you go about making a bread and

butter pudding. Drying my hands on the towel – I’d just been running

a bowl of hot water – I go to answer it.

There is a man standing outside the front door. He’s about six

foot tall, with long, dark hair tied back in a ponytail and the makings

of a beard. At a guess, I’d say he is probably about my age … but I

don’t recognise him at all.

‘Hello.’ I said – is this Duncan’s mystery man? ‘Can I help

you?’

‘I hope so, Mrs Jones.’ He said with a smile. ‘Fred Plaister

seemed to think you could.’

Confused, but reassured by this reference, I invite him to follow

me into the house. While he removes his sturdy boots, leaving them

tidily in the porch, I give him a good look over – jeans which have

seen serious duty, though they are clean enough, a seriously chunky

fisherman’s rib jersey in deep blue - slightly frayed around the cuffs -

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and a business-like, well-worn leather bumbag round his waist. I

can’t make him out at all – he looks pretty disreputable but that

doesn’t tie in with his manners and with him knowing Fred. Fred is

many things but he has zero tolerance for dubious characters.

‘I’m just clearing up dinner.’ I explained, leading him into the

kitchen.

On second thoughts, it would have been more appropriate to

take him into the lounge I suppose ... oh well, if he doesn’t appreciate

domesticity, too bad!

‘Can I offer you a coffee or something?’

‘No, I’m fine, thanks.’ He said, still smiling, ‘But don’t let me

hold you up. Can I help at all?’

He starts piling up plates in a very practical way and, slightly

bemused, I take the pile from him and begin washing them.

‘What can I do for you, Mr … I’m sorry I don’t know your

name.’ I said heaping the clean dishes up on the draining board as he

systematically brings over the other things from the table.

Whatever else he may be, he’s certainly domesticated!

‘Tregarran, Pete Tregarran.’ He said, leaning against the

cupboard beside me ‘I rent one of the units up at the Plaister farm.

But please call me Pete.’

‘Nice to meet you, Pete. I’m Maggie, by the way.’ I replied,

grinning at him, my hands in the soapy water working at a particularly

stubborn residue on the casserole.

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‘As to why I am here,’ he went on ‘I run a small business –

commercial horticulture I suppose you’d call it. I handle grounds

maintenance for commercial businesses, though I do a few private

ones as well, and provide and maintain plants – both live and artificial

for offices and the like. The business is doing well and I’ve just taken

on a part time assistant.’

‘Sounds good.’ I commented, gesturing to him to sit down at

the table as I wipe it over with a damp cloth. I rinse the cloth and go

to join him at the table, drying my hands now I have finished. ‘But

where do I come in?’

‘Well, up until now I’ve been doing my own accounts, invoicing

and such like. It’s not been ideal because I’m not that computer

literate, but I’ve managed. However, I’ve recently landed a couple of

biggish contracts … that’s why I’m taking on an assistant. It’s going

to bump up the paperwork and, on top of that, my computer has

blown up. I thought about replacing it but I got talking to Fred who

mentioned the possibility of getting someone to do my accounts for

me. I weighed up the financial aspects and, adding in the fact it is

worth getting my evenings back, decided it’s probably sensible to

employ someone who knows what they are doing … Fred suggested

you might be willing to take me on.’

‘What exactly would you want me to do?’

‘The lot really – invoicing, chasing creditors, processing

payments and sorting out the accounts generally.’ He said , ‘Oh, no

PAYE – Bob is self employed and my accountant sorts out my tax

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when he audits the accounts …. I could drop the information down to

you regularly … it wouldn’t be a lot, probably only about three or

four hours a week at most once you get going. It used to take me a lot

longer, but I really didn’t have that much of an idea what I was doing

and had to go over everything twice if not more.’

‘It sounds feasible.’ I said slowly, ‘You’d have to be organised

about letting me have the information – I won’t have time to go

chasing after you all the time.’

‘Great!’ He exclaimed, his face lighting up. ‘I can do that – no

problem. I’ve been quite organised so far, it’s just that I spend all day

working in the business then all evening trying to type with two

fingers … it’s silly. What do you charge?’

We talk about hourly rates and reach agreement. It will take me

a few hours to get the system up and running so, initially it may be

more expensive, but he’s happy about that, promising to bring all his

paperwork down so he can explain what’s what.

‘I owe Fred a drink.’ He said happily once we have agreed on

how we are going to do this. ‘He said you’d be ideal, and he was

right.’

‘What did he say exactly?’

He looks slightly embarrassed. ‘He mentioned that you were a

little short of cash after the break up of your marriage.’ He admitted,

clearly not entirely sure of his ground.

‘Well, that’s true enough.’ I said, taking pity on him.

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It would be foolish of me to expect my affairs not to be common

knowledge in the village. The kitchen door flies open and Jenna

rushes in a book in her hand, stopping short when she sees Pete sitting

at the table.

‘Sorry Aunt Maggie, I didn’t know you had a visitor.’ She

stammered, blushing bright red.

‘That’s okay, Jenna, Pete here wants me to do some work for

him.’ I explained, introducing them. ‘What do you want, love?’

‘I can’t work out how to do this … can you help me?’ she asked

shyly, holding out her book.

‘What is it?’ I asked taking the book from her, laying it on the

table and looking at it.

Oh heavens, it’s chemistry. I never managed to get the hang of

that. Pete glances across the table, taking in my reaction.

‘That’s not difficult.’ He said helpfully ‘Here I’ll show you.’

After a quick glance at me to see if this is okay, Jenna goes

round to where he is sitting and watches as he explains what she

should be doing, pointing out where she is going wrong. He has to go

over it a couple of times before she gets the hang of it, but is very

patient with her.

‘Oh, I see.’ She said when he had finished, ‘Thank you.’

With a fleeting smile, she quietly closes the door behind her and

goes back upstairs.

‘Thanks for that, Pete.’ I said gratefully ‘I can manage most

things, but chemistry is my bugbear.’

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‘I gathered that much.’ He replied, grinning. ‘She’s a nice girl.’

‘Jenna? Yes, she’s a darling.’ I agreed, going on to explain

who she is and why she’s living with me.

‘Oh, so it’s her brother who Fred was talking about …’ Pete said

‘Was he? Yes, that’s Mickey and my son, Duncan. It’s very

good of Fred having them up there, I’m certain they are more of a

hindrance than anything else.’

‘Not at all, they were up there last Saturday being very useful.

Fred likes kids. From what I could see, he was working them quite

hard.’ Pete commented. ‘But anyway, I’ve taken up enough of your

time, Maggie. When shall I bring the paperwork over?’

‘Let me think – when is most convenient for you? I suppose

daytime is no good?’ I replied

‘Yes, that would be fine at the moment, the grass cutting is in

abeyance and Bob, my assistant, can handle the rest of the outdoor

work. I could bring it over tomorrow or Thursday if you like,

Maggie.’

‘Let’s make it tomorrow morning then – I get back from taking

the boys to school just after nine – any time after that would be fine.’

‘I’ll see you tomorrow then.’ He said rising and holding out his

hand ‘Thank you, Maggie. Nice meeting you.’

What a nice man … I think as I close the door behind him … I’ll

go to find Jenna. If she’s finished her homework, I’ll induct her into

the mysteries of knitting, then ... as I walk up the stairs, I take myself

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to task for wondering if Pete’s married. What are you turning into,

Magdalena? Some sort of middle-aged, man-eater?

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Chapter 9

I remind myself of this when Pete rings just after ten on

Wednesday morning to tell me that something’s come up and he

won’t be able to get over until Friday morning ... and then lecture

severely myself on how absurd it is to be so disappointed.

I give myself strict instructions to get on with some more work

on the vegetable patch. If nothing else it keeps my hands busy

although my mind does freewheel rather. My experience at the

firework display has impacted rather largely on my outlook … to say

it has shaken me would be an understatement. I have never in my life

felt to desperately alone as I did standing in that field. I didn’t know

it was possible to feel like that. Still, I comfort myself, I have

Thursday night to look forward to though a little voice tells me that it

is entirely possible that it will just be a re-run of the firework display.

It’s a relief that Jenna’s happy about Abi is coming over to mind

them while I go to the lecture. I was worried that she might feel she

was being treated as a child, after all Abi can only be four years older

than her at most, but she wasn’t bothered at all, commenting that the

boys would behave better for Abi in a rather relieved tone of voice.

So what shall I wear to this lecture? I contemplate that thought

for a few minutes, standing up and stretching my aching back.

Bending over weeding is a painful process. Probably, trousers and a

jumper would be best – casual … the unaccustomed thought spins

into my head that I am consciously giving thought to attracting a man

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… though it would be nice to make some female friends as well …

women who are unattached and might be up for going out

somewhere.

While in the library with the boys the other day, I had picked up

a couple of self-help books … how to pick yourself up after divorce,

that was one of them. It talked about doing things with friends, and

how important it is … but I don’t have any friends who are single.

The book didn’t explain how you are supposed to find these friends

… I looked. I can just see Jim being pleased that Caroline wants to

go out on the town with me, even if she were up for it …. realistically

though, there must be lots of women in this situation; one reads how

the divorce rate is one in three these days and, even allowing for the

fact that a proportion of the women concerned are leaving their

husbands for other men, that still leaves a lot of women on their own,

having to start again. Do they all have single friends to fall back on?

Take Sally, for example, she was on her own for several years

… but she had the kids and, from what I can gather, didn’t do

anything socially … meeting Gary was almost an accident from what

she said.

I wonder what Marian did after her divorce … she can only have

been in her forties at the time … and she’s still an attractive woman

now so must have been then.

I work in the garden until lunchtime, by which time it is starting

to drizzle slightly. Taking my after lunch coffee into the office with

the intention of doing some more work on the garage finances, I

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notice that the answer machine is blinking … that blasted beep has

been turned off again. I must have missed the call while I was in the

garden. Hitting the play button, I listen to a message from Sam

Dehaney asking how things are going and asking me to ring him

sometime. I call his number but am told that he is out of the office at

the moment so, leaving a message that I rang, I hang up.

Determined not to let my despondent mood get the upper hand, I

work on the latest batch of grubby pieces of paper, reaching a

satisfactory conclusion which gives me a warm glow just as it is time

for me to think about going to pick Duncan and Mickey up from

school. It is Wednesday, so I shall take the boys round to see Marian.

It will be nice to have a chat with her.

It’s raining properly by the time I leave the house. I toy with the

idea of taking the car, deciding against it in the end and opting for the

big golf umbrella instead. It will keep the worst of the rain off the

three of us; at least the rain is coming straight down and not being

blown around.

Jan’s talking to Caroline as I reach the school. She greets me

somewhat brashly as though expecting me to be on the offensive,

going into a unsolicited and rather specious rigmarole about why she

felt it best not to invite me to their firework party this year. ‘… you’d

only have felt out of it, Maggie, being the only one there not in a

couple.’ She said, obviously pleased to have justified her reasons, if

only to herself.

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I am tempted to give her a sharp response but decide it is not

worth it. Caroline is looking rather embarrassed; it’s not fair of Jan to

put her in this position. ‘I’m sure you’re right, Jan.’ I said, grateful

that the children are now coming out of school. ‘Oh, there are the

boys. See you around.’

Marian opens the front door to us as we turn into the gate – she

must have been watching for us. I herd the boys in and remind them

to wipe their feet. The last stretch of the lane was muddy and I

daresay Marian isn’t up to serious housework yet. She produces some

squash and some biscuits for them and they settle happily beside her

on the sofa in the lounge chatting about their day. Duncan has

accepted Marian as a sort of pseudo granny now … she doesn’t

appear to mind. As usual, Mickey asks if they can go and play in his

room for a while once they have finished their snack and Marian

waves them off with an understanding grin.

‘So how are things with you, Maggie?’

‘Oh I’m all right.’ I said with a smile.

‘You don’t seem as perky as usual, is there something wrong?’

she asked, her eyes concerned.

‘No, not really. I’m just adjusting to being on my own.’

I’ve not told her about the firework display … I’ve not told

anyone actually … it seems so very pathetic.

‘Ah.’ Marian said, her concern deepening. ‘It’s not a nice

process that.’

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‘No.’ I said with a sigh, giving up all pretence of being okay

‘What did you do, Marian?’

‘When we got divorced?’

I nod. She looks thoughtful for a moment as though re-visiting

something she has not looked at for a long time.

‘At first, I buried myself in my work, Maggie. But it was

different for me, I was nursing a broken heart … that sounds

melodramatic, and in a way it is, but that’s what I told myself. My

husband went off with another woman you see, Maggie. That was

hard – not because he loved her, but because he didn’t love me.

There I was, a highly qualified, efficient, professional woman and I

couldn’t even keep my man … I felt unwanted and somehow inferior

… it was not a pleasant experience … it didn’t help that she wasn’t a

career woman in any way. But my problem was more hurt pride than

anything else, as I later realised.’ She paused, ‘It helped that I was

happy with my work and it gave me the company I needed – a sort of

pseudo social life, if you like. It also helped that I’d lived in the

village for some years – ever since I qualified in fact. So I’d had a

life here before I married and it wasn’t long before I got used to being

on my own again; in fact I quite enjoyed it as a counterpoint to my

professional life, but it would have been hell if I hadn’t been

working.’

Aware that I am probably looking as disappointed as I feel – I

had somehow hoped that she would come up with a magic formula

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which I could adopt – I don’t quite know what to say in response to

this. Marian looks at me for a several minutes before going on.

‘You will find your feet, Maggie. Give yourself time.’

‘I know. It’s just come as rather a shock, that’s all. Thanks for

ringing Sally for me, Marian, Abi’s coming to babysit tomorrow

night. She and Jenna get on and Jenna is looking forward to it.’

‘It seemed the obvious thing to do.’ She commented, ‘You’ve

done a lot for Jenna, Maggie. She’s changed and it has been for the

better. It’s made me wonder if I have been fair on the child.

Parenting is difficult … I don’t seem to have made a particularly good

job of it with my daughter.’

‘You shouldn’t blame yourself for that, Marian. I daresay you

did your best – that’s all any of us can do. As for Jenna, I think a lot

of it has been things the girls at school have been saying, Marian, and

I doubt she feels comfortable talking about her mother to you.’ I

responded as tactfully as I can, the last thing I want is for Marian to

feel guilty, after all she hasn’t exactly neglected the child. ‘I’m

enjoying playing mother to a daughter.’

‘Yes, I can see that. Jenna is full of how adept she is getting at

cooking.’ Marian responded.

I nearly jump in and tell her that I’m teaching Jenna to knit now

but remember just in time that the scarf Jenna is making is for her

grandmother as a surprise.

‘You’re a much better mother in that respect than I ever was,

Maggie.’ I open my mouth to protest, but she jumps in before I can

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get the words out. ‘It’s true, Maggie, take this cooking business for

example, I don’t particularly enjoy cooking myself so it never

occurred to me to show either Fiona or Jenna. I sometimes wonder if

that was why Fiona went off the rails.’

‘Oh surely not, Marian. You can’t take the blame for that –

alcoholism is a chemical thing, whatever you did wouldn’t have

changed that. It’s not your fault that she turned to drink when her

husband left her. After all, you didn’t.’

‘Hmmm …. I suppose so.’ Marian said with a sigh. ‘But to get

back to Jenna, Maggie, it’s obvious that you really enjoy cooking and

are passing that enthusiasm on to her. It’s building her confidence in

herself as well as teaching her useful skills – maybe this operation of

mine has been all for the good.’

‘Have you thought about going back to work at all?’ I asked

‘It has crossed my mind, Maggie, especially now that you’re on

the scene. I don’t want to abandon the children but I have been

wondering if we might be able to come to some sort of arrangement

for after school.’ She confessed, ‘Gary’s said that there’s a part-time

position for me if ever I want it and it would make such a difference

financially.’

‘I think we could work something out, Marian. Have a chat

with Gary next time you see him – I’ve been wondering how Duncan

and Mickey will cope when Mickey comes back here. They’ve

become very close, almost brothers. That would be one way round

it.’

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‘Yes, Jenna has mentioned that.’ Marian replied consideringly,

‘Maggie, it would be the answer to prayer in lots of ways if I could go

back to work.’

I grin at her, the thought of keeping regular contact with Jenna

and Mickey is appealing. ‘As I said, Marian, have a think about it and

we’ll see what we can do. But the first thing is to get you fit.’ I said,

rising to call the boys – it is time for us to go.

By the time we leave Marian’s place, the rain has eased off

though it is bitterly cold. As we walk along to the bus stop where we

are going to meet Jenna off the school bus, the boys occupy

themselves watching their breath made visible in the freezing air – I

have to call them a couple of times, they’re concentrating so much

that both of them, at separate times, nearly walk into lamp posts –

honestly, boys!

With Marian’s words echoing in my mind, I find myself

comparing the girl who gets off the bus with the one who moved into

my house a few weeks ago. Yes, she is more confident – she even

waves to a couple of the girls as she walks towards us.

‘We had a terrific tutor session today.’ She told me

enthusiastically as we walk up the road. ‘It was all about how we

communicate with each other. We had to talk about how we feel

when people said negative things – it was a bit silly at first. We had

to pretend that everyone sitting in the left side of the room was thick

and make comments about how they’d never pass their exams. Then

they had a go at telling us how rubbish we are. Our tutor made us talk

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about how it felt being run down and then we had to do the same

thing only making positive comments – finding something

complimentary to say.’

‘How did the rest of the class feel about that?’ I asked,

recognising the hand of Mrs Bailey here.

‘I think it made some of them think, Aunt Maggie.’ She said

thoughtfully ‘Two of the girls who used to pick on me, talked to me

on the bus coming home.’

‘That’s nice.’ I replied, reaching into my pocket for my keys.

‘Your Gran sends her love, by the way. She says she’ll see you on

Friday – you’ve got orchestra tomorrow night so you’ll be late home

anyway and, as I’m going out, I said you would ring her instead.’

‘Oh great!’ Jenna grinned.

We spend the evening comfortably together – me, re-reading

Persuasion, Jenna concentrating on her knitting and the boys playing

a board game on the lounge floor. We have an enormous cupboard

under the stairs where I stow all the odds and sods, and when I was

digging for the knitting stuff the other day, I came across a box of

games and, doubtless because of the novelty factor, Duncan and

Mickey have been working their way through games like Ludo,

Monopoly and Cluedo. At the moment Monopoly has the upper hand

and it is funny watching them so engrossed in something which I

remember so clearly from my childhood. Interesting to see that

Duncan cheats the same way Matt used to when we were kids.

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The phone rings and Jenna, who has got to the end of a row

conveniently enough, goes to answer it. ‘It’s your dad, Duncan.’ She

announced picking up her needles again.

This does not go down well with the boys – interfering with

their game - but after a little ‘persuasion’ on my part, Duncan goes to

talk to his father. While he is out, I keep an eye on Mickey – he’s not

above cheating either. Duncan rushes back into the room,

‘Dad sends his love, Mum.’ He said, his eyes on the board,

checking that it is as he left it.

Matt rarely asks to speak to me these days and I find I don’t

mind … funny really, after so many years of spending time together.

Thursday afternoon Sam Dehaney rings to ask how things are

going.

‘Very well,’ I replied sitting down at the desk in the office.

‘Jenna and Mickey seem quite happy and Marian is recovering

nicely.’

‘Good. I’m pleased to hear that. I’m just about to give her a

ring. I hope you don’t mind me checking up every now and then.’

‘No, not at all.’

Abi turns up just before seven clutching a bag full of books

which she explains is her homework. Over dinner, I stressed to the

boys that they must behave for her so I don’t think she will have any

great problems. Jenna’s looking forward to spending the evening

with Abi … don’t know how much homework Abi will get done.

167

I park in the big car park near Queen Square – it’s free after six

and I don’t want to have to walk too far after the lecture. I’m not used

to wandering around the town on my own in the dark and with the

local paper full of a stories about a pervert attacking women in this

area of the town, I’m a little wary. It’s one thing wandering round

country lanes after dark but quite another in the town.

Light from the interior of the Institute is falling onto the

pavement outside and, although I don’t see anyone else going up the

steps into the doorway as I walk down the road, at least I am

reassured that there is appears to be something going on there this

evening. The chap collecting the ticket money is very friendly asking

if I have been here before and inviting me to write down my e-mail

address so that they can let me know what is going on, and giving me

several leaflets. The lecture is taking place in one of the rooms

upstairs and, following another couple who appear know where they

are going, I go through the entrance hall and up the stairs.

There are about thirty people in the room, which is a small hall

with about sixty chairs set out in rows facing a projector screen at one

end. The room is beautiful with plaster mouldings round the ceiling

and the walls painted a delightfully pale shade of blue. This must

have been a lovely house once.

Pulling myself back into the present day, I look round the room.

A table is set up near the screen and a couple of ladies are fiddling

about with a laptop computer, trying to get it to project something. I

hesitate in the doorway for a moment, not quite knowing where I

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should sit. A quick glance round the hall tells me that everyone else

here is with someone else – they are all sitting in pairs or groups

chatting.

My heart sinks at the thought of a repeat of the firework display.

Kicking myself metaphorically for being so negative, I decide to

sit in the middle of the hall, taking a seat halfway along a row, a few

places up from a couple who briefly look up as I approach and smile

vaguely at me. Settling myself with my coat on the seat beside me, I

check that my mobile phone is turned to silent – there’s a big notice

on the wall reminding people to turn phones off – and study the rest

of the audience. Most of the people here are retired, I should think,

though there is a group of younger people, relatively speaking,

possibly forties, sitting on one side, and another lot of what I can only

assume are students from one of the universities sitting right at the

front. Glancing at the sheet of paper I picked up from the chair before

I sat down, I see that our lecturer works at the university so assume

the students have come along in support. Just as the lights dim, a trio

of men rushes in and, with a rustling of coats and whispered asides,

sits down in the seats beside me. The lecturer launches into her

introduction.

She speaks well and grips my attention from the start, talking

about how literature might have developed if Jane Austen had never

written anything. Then, she outlines the points she is intending to

cover, going over my head in places, especially when she mentions

some modern writers I have never heard of … I must get down to the

169

library and have a look for them. However, we are only some ten

minutes into the talk when the man sitting next to me makes a sotto

voce comment to the guy on his right … dryly picking up on

something she said and turning it round. From then on, my attention

is split between what the speaker is saying and this man’s witty

asides, which keep me highly amused, though one particularly cynical

comment catches me totally unawares and I have to pretend that my

splutter of laughter is a cough. The culprit only grins at me as I try to

cover my embarrassment – his grin infectious.

At the end of the lecture, as I am gathering my belongings

together and checking my mobile to see if there are any messages

from home, he turns to me.

‘I’ve not seen you here before.’ He said in a friendly tone ‘I’m

Glyn, Glyn Harriss with a double ess.’

‘Maggie Jones.’ I replied, grinning at him, ‘But only one ess!

No, I’ve not been here before.’

‘Enjoy it?’ he asked as his companions go up to talk to the

lecturer. ‘I thought she made some good points.’

‘Yes, very much, though she lost me once or twice. I’ve not

kept up with modern literature.’

‘Coming for a cuppa?’ he asked, ‘They serve decent coffee but

I recommend you give the tea a wide berth unless you are a builder.’

Chatting about one or two points from the talk, I walk down the

stairs with him. While we wait in the queue for drinks, he introduces

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me to his friends – James and Charlie – and explains that the three of

them work together at Pennington House.

‘Oh, are you teachers?’ I asked.

Pennington House is a very select private school on the other

side of the city. It’s got an excellent reputation and is dreadfully

expensive. James nods and explains that he and Charlie teach

languages while Glyn teaches English. No wonder he felt able to

comment on what was being said! It’s great fun chatting to them

while we drink out coffee. Charlie, the oldest of the trio – probably

fifty something I would think – tells me that the school encourages

staff to attend these lectures.

‘We live in, so it’s rather nice to get out into the real world.’ He

added, ‘Glyn here is a house master too, so is doubly grateful for the

opportunity to escape.’

‘What’s it like living in?’

Charlie makes a face but the other two assure me that it is not

too bad … considering.

‘What about you, Maggie?’ Glyn asked, ‘What do you do?’

‘I’m a housewife. I live with my son and foster a couple of

other children, though I do take in accountancy work as well.’

‘Sounds idyllic.’ Charlie commented enviously, ‘Only three

children!’

‘Yes, but there’s only me!’ I retaliated, ‘I bet you don’t have to

do all the housework at school as well as everything else!’

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‘There is that.’ Charlie conceded reluctantly, ‘How old are your

young people?’

‘Duncan, that’s my son, he’s ten, as is Mickey whom I foster.

Mickey’s sister, Jenna, is thirteen. Which reminds me, I ought to be

making tracks to relieve my babysitter.’

‘That’s a pity.’ Glyn commented, ‘Look, Maggie, we three

sometimes get out – perhaps we could meet up sometime. I’ll give

you my mobile number shall I? If you ever feel like a drink, let me

know.’

We exchange mobile numbers and, leaving them munching their

way happily through a plate of chocolate biscuits, I make my way

through the now thinning crowd. Much to my immense relief, my car

is still there when I get back to the car park – there’s no reason why it

shouldn’t be really but as I was walking towards the car park I

suddenly had a fit of terror that it might have been stolen. After all,

it’s not as though I could ring Matt to ask him to come to collect me

now – I’m beginning to feel the draught in lots of ways now that there

is just me.

I unlock the car and, waiting for the car behind me to reverse out

of its space, I contemplate my evening. The lecture was interesting,

though the company was more so. Grinning to myself in the

darkness, I drive out of the car park and go home. The house is quiet

as I close the front door behind me.

The lounge is in darkness but there’s a light showing under the

kitchen door. Abi is sitting at the table, her books spread around her,

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working at something. However, as I go in, she turns and, seeing who

it is, smiles at me. ‘Hi, Maggie. How was the lecture?’

‘Great fun, Abi. I met some complete loonies.’ She raises her

eyebrows at this and I go on. ‘Three teachers from Pennington

House – mad as hatters, all of them! But it was good fun. Everything

all right here?’

‘Yes, fine. The boys went off to bed without any great

argument, though I’m not sure if they washed or cleaned their teeth.

Jenna stayed up until about ten – we did a lot of talking.’ Abi

answered

‘Oh, about anything in particular?’ I asked, her tone suggesting

something momentous.

‘Yes, we were comparing notes.’ Abi said, her brow slightly

furrowed as she thinks about the conversation she had with Jenna.

‘She gets a lot of stick from the kids in her class about her mum. It

doesn’t help about her dad either – she can’t get her head round him

disappearing like that. I was luckier, though it sounds crazy to say so

... it is one thing your parents being killed, quite another when they

chose to walk away from you. And I can talk to Aunt Sally too …

Jenna doesn’t feel she can talk to her Gran about her parents.’

‘I’ve gleaned a little of that, Abi. What can I do to help her?’ I

asked sitting down at the table beside this very adult teenager.

‘Oh you’re doing a lot all ready, Maggie. Jenna was full of all

the things you do with her. It’s given her a different view of life, you

know. Up until now, she’s not seen herself as someone who can do

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things but you’ve changed all that, shown her that she can have a go

at something.’ Abi answered, starting to close her books and pile

them up. ‘You give her your time and share your enthusiasm with her

– Aunt Sally does it with me – it makes the difference. You see, my

mum never did things with me either, though for a different reason.

Dad was great, we did a lot together, but that’s not the same. Aunt

Sally did much as you do with Jenna - basic, ordinary skills …

making a cake, cooking a meal … homemaking, I suppose you’d call

it.’

‘I’ve never thought of it like that, Abi. I grew up knowing how

to do these things and it just seems normal to pass it on. I’m enjoying

it actually, boys are all very well, but having a girl around the place

has been fun for me too.’ I said thoughtfully, ‘I’ll miss her when they

go back to live with their gran.’

‘I doubt you’ll lose touch, Maggie.’ Abi said ‘It’s a very small

village and I get the feeling Jenna and Mickey will be around

regardless. Jenna’s very fond of you and Mickey and Duncan have

built up a very strong relationship, almost like brothers, I’d say …

much like Ben and I.’

‘Hmmm, Duncan’s going to feel it when Mickey goes.’ I said

ruefully. ‘We’ll probably have some other child, at least I hope so.’

‘An ever growing family eh, Maggie?’ Abi said with a grin,

‘What a fantastic idea.’

‘I’d not thought of it like that.’ I replied. ‘Abi, how are you

getting home?’ I asked suddenly struck by the thought.

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‘Aunt Sally will come and fetch me.’ She said, getting her

mobile phone out of her bag. ‘It’s all arranged.’

While we wait for Sally to drive over in response to her call, Abi

tells me that Toby caused some hilarity earlier on by dashing in

through the cat flap, hitting the rug at a rate of knots and causing it to

skid across the floor, dumping him in a heap by the cooker, looking

very annoyed.

‘Ben’s got two kittens – they’re getting quite big now but are

still completely batty.’ She explained as we see the headlights of a

car drive in through the gates.

As Abi gets in the passenger seat, I go over to the driver’s side

of the car to thank Sally.

‘That’s all right, Maggie, more importantly, did you have a good

time,?’ she asked and I tell her about Glyn and his cronies. ‘Crumbs!

You go out to a lecture and pick up three men … that is good going,

Maggie!’

I’m still laughing as I close the front door behind me and, as I

go through the house, turning off lights and checking as I go, I reflect

on her comment and grin to myself.

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Chapter 10

Pete turns up just before ten on Friday morning, apologising

again for having to cancel the other day. It seems his assistant, Bob,

was laid low with sudden and excruciating toothache so Pete had to

take on his work while Bob besieged his dentist and got the crisis

sorted out. I assure him it is not a problem and we settle down in the

kitchen over coffee so that I can assimilate the magnitude of the

situation. He brings in several boxes and goes through explaining

what they all contain.

‘This box is all invoices I’ve sent out and records of payments

received.’ He explained, showing me the contents of what we used to

call a banker’s box when I used to work in an office. ‘Now … this lot

is stationery … and this file here is petty cash records.’

‘It all looks pretty well organised to me, Pete.’ I said half an

hour later, vastly relieved to find it all in order. ‘I was anticipating a

mess, to be honest.’

‘Oh, I hate a muddle.’ Pete said, ‘I like to be able to put my

hand on something when I want it, so organisation is the only way.

I’ve made a list of the clients I have contracts with, how often they

need to be invoiced and the amounts. One or two of the contracts are

on an ‘as and when’ basis but I’ll let you know about those.’

‘It looks quite straightforward.’ I commented slowly, casting

my eye down the page and seeing a name which rings bells –

Pennington House – so he does the grounds there, does he? ‘I’ll set

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up some spreadsheets on my computer, Pete … I reckon I’ll need to

see you once a week to collect any invoices for payment and to get

cheques signed. I could come up to the farm, if it is easier – how

would that be?

‘Are you sure? It would certainly save me time, I do the rounds

of the offices early in the week but tend to be working up at the unit

on Thursday mornings – would that be any good?’

‘That would be perfect, Pete – that would mean I could turn the

stuff round and get it in the post for the end of the week. As for going

up to the farm it would do be good for me to walk up the hill.’ I

laughed, ‘I need the exercise! Pete, when does your financial year

run?’

‘Oh the usual – April to March.’ He replied moving onto the

next box, ‘Now this file has all the bank statements and the cheque

books are in this box. I have been keeping all the invoices I pay in

alphabetical order in this file.’

We spend over an hour going over his accounts and I have to

say I am impressed by the order I find. Compared with the garage

accounts, this is going to be a doddle.

‘So, apart from managing the grounds at Pennington House,

what else do you do?’ I asked, refilling our mugs.

‘I’ve got three … no, four grass cutting contracts but the rest is

maintaining displays in offices.’

‘Potted plants, you mean?’ I asked, handing him his mug and

sitting down at the table again.

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‘Sort of.’ He said, ‘More troughs of large plants, really – that’s

the live stuff. I also make artificial trees.’

‘What?’ I asked fascinated. ‘How do you do that?’

‘Well,’ he said scratching his head, ‘It’s one of those things

that’s straightforward to do but difficult to explain. You’ll have to

come up and see for yourself sometime.’

‘I’d like that. I am a bit of a gardener myself.’

‘I’d noticed that. I spotted your veg patch through the window –

it looks rather impressive.’

‘Thanks, want to come and have a look?’ I asked, pleased to

have another gardening maniac to hand.

Matt used to appreciate what I did but was not particularly

interested in the finer points of double digging. Together Pete and I

go out into the garden and inspect the vegetable patch. Pete admires

my anti-slug defences and I tell him how effective they have been.

‘The sprouts haven’t done at all well though and the caterpillars

have had a feast.’

He commiserates with me, promising to look into the question

of organic control for cabbage white butterflies for me. He uses

predatory bugs to control pests on his plants in the offices and has a

vague idea that the same method might work on my cabbages next

year.

‘You’ve got a good sized bit of land here, Maggie.’ Pete said,

looking around, taking in the fields beyond the garden. ‘Fred tells me

your family used to farm here.’

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‘Yes, though my uncle let the place go to a large extent – he was

the one who sold most of the land off for development. My

grandfather was the last one to farm properly. I sometimes think

Duncan is a throwback to him. Are you from farming stock?’

‘No, not at all. My father is an engineer.’ Pete replied as we

make our way back into the kitchen; it’s chilly out here without a

coat. ‘And his father was a sea fisherman – I don’t know where I got

the urge to work with plants.’

‘Where did your grandfather fish?’ I asked, ‘Not around here,

surely!’

‘No,’ he said with a grin, ‘My family come from Dorset – down

Lyme Regis way. My parents still live down there.’

‘That’s a lovely area, don’t you miss it?’

‘Yes … and no. It’s a beautiful area but can be pretty dead

socially and although it is great living out in the sticks, it means

commuting considerable distances along country lanes for work.

Anyway, I have a sister up this way.’

‘Oh? Where does she live?’

‘Tracey lives up Stroud way. She and her husband run a

restaurant up there. When I get fed up with my own cooking, I go and

visit them. ’ he explained with another grin ‘I really envy you your

garden, Maggie. I rent a flat and the most it has is a window box.

The flat’s as basement one, you see, but one of these days, I shall

aspire to something with a garden.’

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The ache in his voice tells me clearly how much he longs for a

garden of his own, but he covers it by going on to tell me about the

flower beds he is working on up at the school. The latest project there

is a small kitchen garden which the pupils are helping with … not as a

playground, but properly, learning the skills of a gardener. Pete is

enjoying working with them and goes on to explain that, ultimately,

the school wants to create a small farm unit.

‘Well, I’d better be going.’ He said eventually. ‘I’ve enjoyed

talking to you, Maggie. I’ll give you my mobile phone number – if

you have any queries about any of this, let me know. I’ll look

forward to seeing you up at the unit on Thursday morning next.’

I spend the afternoon setting up spreadsheets for Pete’s accounts

on the computer, the vision of a certain pony-tailed gentleman lurking

in the back of my head.

I am brought back to earth with a bump when I pick the boys up

from school. Both of them are looking heavy-eyed and their teacher

tells me that there is a particularly nasty virus going around at the

moment. I don’t dare take them round to Marian’s but whisk them

straight home and ring her as soon as I get in. She is very grateful

and, after angsting about Mickey, agrees that I have done the right

thing not taking him to see her tonight.

‘I daren’t get ill at the moment, Maggie.’ She said worriedly, ‘I

just hope that they weren’t infectious when I saw them last.’

‘I hope so too, Marian. Fingers crossed you’ll be all right.’

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The boys are not interested in food, which says a lot about how

lousy they are feeling. I force some home-made chicken soup down

them before tucking them, unresisting, into their beds. Jenna is okay

so far, I’m relieved to see.

Saturday morning, the boys are worse, running temperatures and

generally complaining about feeling grotty. They’re getting through

tissues at a rate of knots, so I dose them up with tablets to bring their

temperatures down and leave them in bed, ringing Fred up at the farm

to tell him that his helpers won’t be around today.

‘Just keep them in the warm, Maggie.’ He said, ‘It’s a nasty

bug; my grandson went down with it last week. I reckon he’ll be

coughing for the rest of the winter now.’

‘I do hope not.’ I responded worriedly, ‘But they’re tough kids

… I expect they’ll be on their feet in a day or so.’

By Saturday evening, both boys are feeling a little better and get

up, sitting in the lounge lethargically watching a film on TV. After a

couple of hours, they are both more than ready to go back to bed … a

sure sign that they are unwell.

By Sunday lunchtime, they are well enough to get up but not

well enough to occupy themselves and end up driving Jenna and I

completely crackers with their pleas for something to do. In the end, I

dig out some jigsaw puzzles in the hope that they might like to do

those. Thankfully, it works and the two of them take over the dining

room table while Jenna and I cook an evening meal we hope might

tempt the boys’ appetites.

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‘Aunt Maggie, there’s a message on your mobile.’ Jenna said as

she moves things off the kitchen table so that she can lay it for our

meal.

I take the phone from her and open the text message wondering

who it might be. Oh, it’s from Glyn.

Hi Maggie, have escape plan arranged for this evening – any

chance you can get out? Glyn

Reluctantly, I send back a reply explaining that I have sick

children, but thanking him for the invitation and suggesting that

another time would be nice. His reply is understanding.

Tough luck. That is a nasty bug – it has been going through our

lot here too. Hope you escape it. Another time, perhaps. Glyn.

Neither of the boys is fit for school on Monday. When I ring the

school to explain why Mickey and Duncan will be absent, I get Sally

on the phone.

‘I’m not surprised, Maggie.’ She said, ‘It’s hitting the staff too

– my assistant is off with it, as are a good proportion of the kids.

Keep them home until they’re fit, the ones who come back too early

are only relapsing.’

‘I’ll do that.’ I replied, wondering what the hell I am going to

do to keep them occupied.

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Providentially, the jigsaw idea has taken off and the boys are

happily working their way through the pile of jigsaws in the

cupboard. Jenna continues to be healthy, though I’m keep a close eye

on her. She’s phoning Marian these days – we’re not going near

Marian until I am sure that the kids are over the bug, just in case. So

far, the ploy seems to be working and Marian has escaped infection.

Another concern is that I can’t go out – I wouldn’t feel happy

leaving the boys here on their own. Luckily, I keep a fairly well

stocked cupboard and the freezer was topped up last time I went to the

supermarket. Jenna helps by picking up bread from the supermarket

on her way home after school, but it is yet another facet of being on

my own which I had not considered before. I make mental notes to

keep a stock of tinned food just in case. Goodness knows what would

happen if I was taken ill myself … it doesn’t bear thinking of.

As I am housebound, I decide now would be a good time to

write Christmas cards. When Matt rang the other day, we had a short

chat about this … we haven’t actually notified our friends and distant

family that we have separated. Matt offered to write a letter to go in

with the cards but after some discussion on the logistics of this – I

have all the addresses for a start – we decided that I would do the

honours for most people, sending him a list of names and addresses so

that he can send a separate card and people can make up their own

minds about who they want to keep in touch with.

It takes me some time to draft a letter … nothing in life has

given me the slightest idea how to put news like that … but in the end

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I manage something which seems reasonable. Matt was happy with it

when I read it over to him. I’ve put in his address so that people can

send to him if they want to and to underline the friendliness of the

whole situation. All the same, it is a long and laborious job and I am

extremely relieved when I have finished it.

By mid week, the boys are a lot better though they tire easily

which is very unlike their normal state. Thursday morning, I take

them up to the farm with me – the fresh air won’t do them any harm if

they are wrapped up properly and the change of scene will do them

good. Fred seems pleased to see them and takes them off to ‘help’

while I go to see Pete. His unit’s in what used to be a large barn

abutting the cattle shed. Fred has split it into three separate units with

Pete renting the end one. A carpenter, knee deep in shavings, looks

up from the table he is working on and waves to me merrily as I walk

past the open door of the first of the other units but the middle one

appears to be locked up.

Pete is in the middle of potting up some plants when I arrive

and, quickly closing the door behind me to keep the heat in, I stand

watching him as he firms down the soil round a very large specimen

of a palm. By the look of it, he has done three others already.

‘What sort of palm is that?’ I asked as he washes his hands to

get the soil off.

‘Kentia – they’re pretty tough and don’t mind being neglected.’

He replied with a grin. ‘There’s a stool over there if you want to sit

down, Maggie. Fancy a coffee?’

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‘Thanks, that would be nice.’ I said, settling myself on the

sturdy if grubby stool offered.

It is rather refreshing to have adult company after being with

Mickey and Duncan all week.

‘White, no sugar, please.’

The unit is a space approximately twelve feet by fifteen with an

old fashioned deep sink along one side under a window, storage

shelves running across the back and a selection of pots and containers

stacked in one corner. Because it is a corner unit, there are two

windows – one to the front and one to the side, giving a decent

amount of light. A pile of bags of compost stands against one wall

and various gardening utensils hang tidily on a rack. By the sink is an

old kitchen unit on which is a kettle and coffee-making supplies as

well as some nasty looking containers of chemicals with all sorts of

warnings signs on them.

Pete hands me a mug of coffee and I nurse it, warming my

hands, as he drags across a large wooden box to sit on. Even with the

door shut, it’s not particularly warm in here, though there is a portable

gas heater chucking out heat. Sipping the coffee, we swop tales of

how our respective weeks have been. He’s sorry to hear that I have

been tied to the house with the boys having to subsist on what food

supplies I have in the house.

‘Oh Maggie, you idiot!’ he exclaimed ‘You should have let me

know. I can always come over and sit for a while so you can get to

the shops.’

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‘That’s kind of you, Pete. I’ve never had the problem before

but will bear it in mind if it happens again. I’m just relieved that I

haven’t gone down with the bug. But down to business, have you got

any paperwork for me?’

‘Yes, I’ve been putting it in that box file over there’ he

answered, putting his mug down and going across to pick up the file

in question. ‘There are half a dozen invoices to be paid and I’ve made

a list of the clients who should be billed this week with the amounts;

is that all right?’

‘Terrific! If you’ll sign some cheques then, Pete, I can get them

sent off.’ I said, looking through the file he has handed me. ‘It all

seems pretty straightforward – have you ordered any stuff this week?’

Together we go through the papers.

‘You’ve no idea how much I appreciate not having to do all

this.’ he said when we had finished ‘I’ve actually started reading

some books after work now. It’s an amazing luxury after years of

struggling with paperwork.’

‘How long have you been doing this?’

He stares into the distance for a moment, eyes narrowed,

calculating. ‘Ten years now.’ He said slowly, ‘Yes, that’s right. I

was over at the workshop in Twerton for seven years and came here

nearly three years ago. It has taken that long to build up the business

but I’m getting there now.’

‘It must have been hard work.’ I commented, ‘What made you

chose this area?’

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‘I don’t know exactly. I didn’t want to stay in Dorset or further

down country, and equally didn’t want to work in Bristol if I could

help it, so when I landed the job working on the grounds up at the

school, which was my first big contract, that sort of made the choice

for me.’

‘Didn’t you think of taking a job with another firm?’ I asked, it

must have been very hard work building up a business from scratch.

He grins at me, his eyes twinkling, ‘I don’t like working for

other people, Maggie. When I left college, I started with one of the

big garden centre chains but I found it very frustrating – I’m just not a

corporate person - so I decided to be my own boss. The first few

years were a bit hairy at times, but slowly the work started coming in

and now it is doing nicely. I even have time to read a book!’ he

finished triumphantly.

‘What are you reading?’ I asked, smiling at his obvious delight.

‘I’m re-reading a set of books by Azimov – the Foundation

series.’ He said, ‘Do you know it? It’s fantasy of a sort.’

I’ve not come across this particular series before but it sounds

interesting and he promises to let me have a borrow of the first in the

series once he has finished reading it. The sound of boys’ voices

reaches us; there’s a knock at the door and, in response to Pete’s

cheerful invitation to come in, Mickey and Duncan walk in. Duncan

looks around curiously while Mickey tells me what they have been

doing with Fred.

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‘I’d better get these two home, Pete.’ I said, gathering together

all the paperwork I have to take home with me. ‘Thanks for the

coffee.’

I glance back at the unit as we walk across the farmyard to the

lane, Pete is standing in the doorway watching us and waves.

The boys are both fractious after lunch; I pack them off to their

beds for a nap. This is a nasty bug they have picked up. It’s certainly

knocked them both for six. I’m hoping they will be fit for school on

Monday but, at the moment, it is not a foregone conclusion by a long

chalk.

What now? Oh, I know … I’d better sit down and make a

shopping list for the food supplies … I have my head in the depths of

the freezer trying to ascertain what we have in the frozen vegetable

line when the phone rings.

Cursing slightly, I go to answer it.

‘Oh hi, Mum.’ I said, glad that I didn’t leave the freezer door

open. Mum doesn’t often ring during the day unless the office is very

quiet, but makes a meal of it when she does. ‘How are you?’

‘We’re fine, Maggie. Work is a bit slow today though.’ She

said confirming my assumption. ‘How are things with you?’

‘Fine, Mum, though the boys have been ill with this fluey thing

all week. They’re over the worst now and I’m hoping they’ll be fit

for school next week.’ I replied, ‘Fortunately Jenna and I have

escaped it.’

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‘That’s a relief, Maggie, it would be difficult for you if you were

ill.’ She said, ‘But to get down to the reason I’m ringing, I was

wondering if you would like to come over for lunch on Sunday.

We’ve not met your charges yet. Do you think they would be well

enough?’

‘Oh yes, they are a lot better now, they just get tired easily.

That would be nice, Mum. Are you sure you can manage all of us?’

‘Yes, of course I can, Maggie. Is there anything they don’t eat?’

‘Not that I know of, Mum. What time do you want us?’

‘About twelve thirty? We’ll eat about one. Maggie, I’ve got to

go, a client has materialised. See you on Sunday. ‘bye’

I put the phone down and make a note to stick on the calendar

… Sunday lunch with my parents. It will be nice to see them … okay,

so there’s also a certain amount of wanting to show off Mickey and

Jenna to them. I can’t remember what it was like just having Duncan

at home now.

Maybe Dad will have some idea of how we can get Duncan up

to see Matt. Matt and I have talked about it several times now and the

only viable possibility we can see is for Matt to drive all the way

down to collect him and then reverse the process to bring him back

again. For a weekend that is rather ridiculous, not to mention

exhausting and horribly expensive. We’ve idly talked about Duncan

going up there for Christmas but although Matt is keen to have him,

and I am not particularly against the idea in principle, it would be odd

189

not having Duncan here and Matt is anxious that I am not left on my

own over Christmas which is kind of him.

Glyn texts me suggesting we meet up on Saturday night – the

three of them are thinking of going to see the new Wallace and

Gromit film. I’d like to see that. Mind you, so would the kids. For a

moment I debate whether I should suggest taking them along … no,

perhaps not. I don’t like to ask Sally again … not that I asked her

last time actually … I wonder if Marian would be able to come over.

She hasn’t seen the kids all week and they’re not infectious now. I

quickly call her number and explain what I am after.

‘Yes, Maggie, that would be fine. The only problem is that I’m

not supposed to drive yet.’

‘I could come and pick you up, Marian, and take you back again

after - the children would be fine on their own for ten minutes or so.’

I suggested.

‘Perfect!’ Marian commented sounding pleased. ‘I have to say

the thought of spending the evening somewhere else is rather

appealing. I am getting a little fed up with these four walls.’

I reply to Glyn’s text and we arrange to meet outside the cinema

at seven forty-five on Saturday. Naturally, when I tell the kids they

are disappointed that I am not taking them, the boys making a fuss

which makes me wonder if I am being reasonable.

Jenna, however, leaps to my defence. ‘Come off it, you two,

Aunt Maggie has done nothing but run around after you for over a

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week now – she deserves an evening off.’ She said stoutly ‘Anyway,

it will be fun having Gran here for the evening.’

Mickey takes a bit of convincing and sulks for a while, merely

convincing me that he is not as well as I thought – he hasn’t sulked

for some time now. Duncan picks up slightly more quickly,

especially when I tell him that we are all going over to Clevedon for

Sunday lunch. I hear him enthusing to Mickey how great Grandpa is

which helps a little with Mickey’s mood. Jenna is wide-eyed and

nervous when I tell her about the proposed lunch on Sunday and even

more so when I suggest that she might like to bake one of her fruit

cakes to take over with us. However, I win my point and we spend

the evening baking : a fruit cake for Clevedon and some flapjack for

Marian’s visit.

The kids are out of kilter on Saturday. I know Jenna’s nervous

about going to my parents … nothing I say seems to reassure her so I

leave her to it, secure in the knowledge that her fears will be proved

pointless when she actually gets there.

The boys are a different matter. For the first time since Mickey

moved in, he and Duncan have an argument. It started when they

were finishing off the latest jigsaw – I’m not entirely sure what

sparked it and asking them does not clarify matters either as they both

claim different things. Out of sheer desperation, I send them to their

rooms, in the hope that they will calm down and become reasonable

again.

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Lunch is a stilted and silent affair, with Jenna lost in a world of

her own and the boys studiously ignoring each other. By the time

they have finished eating, I could willingly strangle the lot of them.

Toby doesn’t seem impressed either. He came in as we started eating

(as is his usual practice when there is food around) but, taking one

look at the assembled children, went straight out again.

I envy him his freedom. I wouldn’t mind leaving this lot to

stew for a while but, of course, I can’t do that.

As if this isn’t enough, the weather’s conspiring against me as

well – it’s raining, not particularly heavily, but sufficiently to make

working outside an impossibility. Reminding myself that I am

having a few hours away from the house tonight, I get on with some

work. I am up to date with Pete’s accounts, and the garage is okay,

but Carrie dropped her latest month’s papers through the door

sometime during the evening last night – she didn’t ring the bell and,

having had a look in the envelope she left, I am not surprised. Talk

about a mess.

Half an hour into the work, I am just beginning to make

headway when I hear the doorbell go. Whoever it is appears to be

leaning on the blasted thing.

Annoyed, I go to open the door, passing Jenna halfway down

the stairs and seeing the boys hanging over the banister on the

landing. I open the door to find a woman standing there, her finger

firmly on the doorbell button … her hair is dripping with the rain and

her coat soaked in patches.

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‘Do you mind!’ I asked, reaching out to remove her hand from

the bell. ‘Can I help you?’

‘You’ve got my babies here … I wanna see them.’ She

announced, swaying slightly.

Suddenly realising who it is, I stand for a moment not quite

knowing what to do.

Jenna comes up behind me. ‘It’s all right, Aunt Maggie. It’s

only Mum come to say hello.’ She said, ducking under my arm and

flashing me a warning look as she does so. ‘Hello, Mum.’

‘Jenna … my baby …’ Fiona Thompson said, throwing her

arms round Jenna and nearly knocking her over. ‘Your mummy has

come to see you.’

‘Jenna, do you want to bring your mother into the kitchen so we

can get to know each other?’ I suggested, meeting Jenna’s eyes; she

nods slightly.

With the brightest smile I can muster, I lead the way to the

kitchen, Jenna, holding her mother firmly by one arm, chatting about

nothing in particular as she follows. The boys have disappeared.

‘Jenna, what do we do now?’ I hissed at the girl under cover of

filling the kettle.

Fiona is sitting at the table and Jenna has come over to the sink

to help me prepare coffee.

‘I’ll keep her talking … you ring Gran.’ Jenna hissed back,

raising her voice to continue chatting to her mother. ‘Mum, do you

want sugar in your coffee?’

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With a smile in Fiona’s general direction, I walk as calmly as I

can towards the office as Jenna offers her mother a piece of the

flapjack she made last night. Fiona is as drunk as they come but

seems fairly friendly. Closing the office door, I sprint over to the

phone and call Marian’s number. I wait for what seems like an

interminable amount of time before she answers the phone.

‘Marian, it’s Maggie – Fiona has turned up here.’ I blurted out,

annoyed that I sound so panic-stricken.

‘Oh … from your tone, I take it she’s drunk.’ Marian answered

with a sigh.

‘Yes, Jenna’s making her coffee in the kitchen. What do we

do?’

‘I’ll ring Sam Dehaney, Maggie. But don’t worry, Fiona

doesn’t usually get aggressive or violent. Jenna knows how to handle

her. I’ll ring you back in a few minutes.’

I put the phone down and take a deep breath. This is beyond my

experience and although I realise it is absurd of me to be panicking

like this, that doesn’t actually help. Trying hard to relax, I go back

into the kitchen where Fiona is relating a long and somewhat

convoluted story to Jenna about how she got here.

‘Where’s Mickey?’ Fiona suddenly asked, stopping mid-

sentence and looking around as though she expects him to be in the

room.

‘He’s out with his friends, Mum.’ Jenna lied, looking to me for

backing.

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‘Yes, Fiona, he goes up to the farm to help on a Saturday.’ I

said brightly, launching into a long, and mostly imaginary, spiel about

what Mickey and Duncan do up at the farm.

Fiona nods understandingly and comments that Mickey likes

animals before resuming her tale. I see Jenna relax slightly – she’s

obviously trying to keep Mickey away from Fiona.

‘Jenna, I’ve left a tap running upstairs.’ I said when I can get a

word in. ‘I’ll just go up and turn it off.’

Jenna smiles at me understanding what I mean and immediately

grabs her mother’s attention by asking about the trains between here

and Bristol. I quickly leave the room and run upstairs – guessing

rightly that the boys would have forgotten their differences of the

morning, I go into Duncan’s room and find both boys sitting on the

floor looks slightly scared.

‘Mickey, we’ve let your mother think that you and Duncan are

up at the farm – can you two keep out of sight?’

Duncan glances anxiously at Mickey who nods.

‘We’ll stay in here, Mum.’ Duncan said.

‘Good boys!’

As I leave the room, I hear the phone ring and dash into my

bedroom to pick it up. It’s Sam Dehaney.

‘Maggie?’ he said quickly, ‘Marian just rang. I gather you

have a visitor.’

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‘Yes, Jenna’s holding the fort with her in the kitchen at the

moment. We’ve told her that Mickey is out. She’s pretty far gone. I

don’t know how she got here to be honest.’

‘She’s very good at it, Maggie.’ Sam said with a sigh. ‘I’ll be

over as soon as I can. Just hold on to her, will you?’

Not wanting to leave Jenna alone for too long, I go back

downstairs, though my over-riding impulse is to go and hide in my

bedroom. By the time I get back into the kitchen, Jenna is talking

about school. She glances across at me and I smile – the girl relaxes

slightly.

I sit down at the table again and look at Jenna’s mother. I know

that Fiona is about my age but she looks a good ten years older. She’s

shorter than me and looks like a female version of Mickey oddly

enough, though why that should surprise me I don’t know. She is

very thin, scrawny almost, her jeans and thin jumper underlining her

emaciation.

Suddenly, she turns to me, her gaze a little disorientated. ‘You

are a good woman, Mrs Jones, looking after my babies.’ She said

graciously, patting my arm in a friendly fashion ‘I’m sure my mother

will reward you when she is out of hospital.’

‘They are lovely children, Mrs Thompson.’ I replied,

wondering just how long it will take Sam to get here. ‘I am pleased to

have them here.’

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She smiles at me delighted at the compliment to her children

and, unexpectedly, I feel very sorry for her. What sort of life must

she have?

The hands on the clock move very slowly as Jenna and I work at

keeping the conversational ball rolling. Fiona veers from almost

sober understanding to mind-boggling leaps of subject.

After an eternity, the doorbell rings and, with an apologetic

smile, I leave the kitchen, relief washing over me as I open the door to

Sam. Standing in the hallway, he hurriedly ascertains the state of

play, and then follows me into the kitchen.

‘Hello Fiona.’ He said in a friendly tone, sitting down beside

her at the table. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I wanted to visit my babies.’ She explained as though

travelling some thirty miles on public transport whilst as drunk as

they come is a normal activity. I am still amazed that she got here …

from what she was telling Jenna, she had to change trains at Temple

Meads. I get mixed up doing that when I’m stone cold sober.

‘You know, you’re supposed to tell me when you want to see

the children, Fiona.’ Sam pointed out gently.

‘But I wanted to see them.’ She said, tears starting in her eyes.

‘I was very clever finding them, wasn’t I?’

‘Yes, you were.’ He replied ruefully ‘Well you’ve seen Jenna

now, so it’s time to take you back again.’

To my surprise, Fiona takes this very well, picking up her coat

and, ignoring Jenna completely, bidding me a long if cordial farewell

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as Sam has a quick word with Jenna. Sam leads Fiona out to his car;

I stand at the door with my arm round Jenna, and we both wave

goodbye as the car drives out of the gateway.

‘Jenna, you were marvellous.’ I said, giving her a hug.

She clings to me, shaking slightly.

‘Are you all right?’

She takes a deep breath and looks at me, the pain in her eyes

shakes me. ‘Yes,’ she said with a massive sigh, ‘Poor mum, I keep

hoping that she’ll get better but it’s not going to happen, is it?’

‘I don’t know, Jenna, I know very little about alcoholism.’ I

replied honestly, ‘Shall I tell Mickey the coast’s clear now?’

‘Yes – thanks for that. He’s terrified of mum when she’s drunk.

When he was very small, she rampaged round the flat throwing things

and he’s never got over it.’ Jenna explained. ‘He’s okay when she’s

sober but he’s never really known her properly. She’s been drinking

as long as he can remember.’

I call up the stairs to Duncan and a few minutes later both boys,

looking uneasy, come down to join us in the hall. Deciding that cake

therapy is probably appropriate, I jolly them all along into the kitchen

and sacrifice Jenna’s fruit cake.

‘You can make another one tonight if you want to, Jenna.’ I

said as I make up some squash to accompany the cake. ‘Your Gran

might enjoy seeing you cooking and you know the recipe well enough

to do it on your own.’

198

For the rest of the day, I keep a close eye on the children;

reassuringly, they appear to be more or less back to normal … though

I intend to keep an eye on Jenna. I’m still jittery … shaken by the

whole episode … it’s so totally outside my experience … funny the

things you take for granted … when I was Jenna’s age, my biggest

worry was whether I should go with my girlfriends to the shops or

watch a football match with Matt … and Jenna has been dealing with

this for years.

At seven I get the car out and go to pick up Marian. She’s

looking anxious but I assure her that everything is fine, thanking her

for ringing Sam so quickly. We talk about the visit and I give her as

clear a picture of the episode as I can, stressing how well Jenna coped

with the situation.

‘Yes, well, she’s had a lot of experience of that.’ Marian

commented starkly, ‘Thank goodness Mickey was not around when

Fiona arrived.’

‘Yes, he and Duncan lay low upstairs until she had gone. Jenna

explained about that.’

‘Well, it’s all over now.’ Marian said as we get to the house,

‘You go out and enjoy yourself, Maggie. Don’t worry about what

time you get home either.’

199

Chapter 11

I arrive at the cinema a few minutes earlier than we arranged

which gives me a chance to unwind a little – I’m still trying to get my

head round this afternoon’s events.

At least things were calm at home when I left … Jenna was

getting stuff out ready to bake another cake, with Marian sitting at the

kitchen table almost glowing with pride in her granddaughter … that

was nice to see … the boys were back in the dining room starting

another jigsaw … Marian should have a peaceful evening, I hope …

‘Maggie!’

I turn to see Glyn, Charlie and James walking towards me

waving their arms in the air.

‘We’ve got the tickets.’ Glyn announced.

‘But ….’ I stammered, reaching into my bag for my purse.

‘You must let me reimburse you’

I spend the next ten minutes trying in vain to get them to accept

my ticket money.

‘Nonsense, Maggie. Allow us to be gentlemen.’ Charlie stated

finally, completely sweeping the ground from under me. ‘We don’t

often get the chance.’

‘We’ve just got time for a quick drink before the film starts.’

James put in. ‘Stop arguing, Maggie, we’re wasting good drinking

time.’

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‘I’m driving tonight, so mine’s a lemonade.’ Glyn put in,

explaining that they take it in turns to drive.

‘So am I – it’d better be a pineapple juice for me, please.’ I

replied ‘Though, after the events of this afternoon, I could certainly

use something stronger.’

‘Oh?’ Charlie asked as James goes to the bar to get the drinks

‘What happened today?’ I explain about Jenna and Mickey and their

mother and how she turned up unexpectedly. ‘Oh lord, that’s

unpleasant.’ He commented, dropping the village idiot impression

and revealing the responsible teacher he really is.

‘Yes … but the worst bit’s knowing that Jenna has been dealing

with it for years.’ I said soberly, ‘Her brother is terrified of his

mother when she’s drunk.’

‘Not nice.’ He agreed, ‘Makes you grateful for what you had,

doesn’t it? Unfortunately, that’s how the world is for some people,

Maggie. We see a lot of it at school. Neglect doesn’t have to be

linked to poverty or lack of education in parents, you know.’ He

sighs then gives himself a shake as though removing a nasty memory,

going on in a more positive tone of voice. ‘It sounds as though your

two have got a fairly effective support network though. Their

grandmother’s okay isn’t she?’

‘Oh yes, she’s sound. But it’s not fair on her either. She had to

give up a very successful career as a solicitor to look after the kids.’

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‘But life isn’t fair, Maggie.’ Charlie went on, ‘That’s one of the

first things I learned. My mother used to say that it isn’t written

anywhere that it should be fair. She was a wise woman.’

‘I know, but …’ I grin at him ruefully, as the others come back

with the drinks.

‘Now, Maggie, you are to forget all about your responsibilities

for a few hours.’ Glyn announced seriously, ‘We find that a highly

necessary and very effective way of dealing with the slings and

arrows that life chucks at us.’

‘I’ll drink to that.’ I said with a grin and we all raise out glasses.

This trio may be crackers but they are extremely therapeutic

idiots.

Glyn asks if the boys are over their illness.

‘Oh yes, they’re fine now. How are the kids at your school?

You said the bug was going round them too.’

‘We’re starting to crawl out of it now, I think.’ He replied , ‘As

you can imagine, a bug like that sweeps through everyone. Half the

staff have been down with it too. That’s the worst of working in a

school.’

‘We’d better go into see the film, don’t you think?’ James said,

looking at his watch ‘It starts in five minutes.’

The cinema is fairly full. We have to get half a row of sweet-

munching, happily settled people to stand up so we can get to our

seats … to the accompaniment of their disgruntled looks and sotto

202

voce comments. James thanks them all in fluent Russian. I can’t

help grinning at the reaction this elicits from the poor sods.

I end up sitting between Glyn and James. The film is great fun

and I laugh a lot, feeling the stress of the last week or so falling away

as I do so. As the lights go up, Glyn suggests another drink and we

all pile into the pub next door to the cinema. Again, my attempt at

buying a round is firmly rejected … this lot are certainly good at

authority.

I learn a little more about them as we chat over our drinks and,

as they bounce insults off each other in a very relaxed and friendly

way, I have a chance to study them.

Charlie, as I thought, is the oldest of them and has been teaching

at the school since Noah launched the ark according to James. Both

his parents were teachers and, despite his protestations to the contrary,

he loves his profession – that much is clear. He looks his age – late

fifties – tubby and hair thinning on top; he reminds me of Harry

Secombe though I can’t quite pinpoint why.

James, the youngest of the trio, is in his middle twenties and has

only been teaching for three years. As his accent suggests, he

originates from Cardiff where his parents run a pub. He has several

brothers and sisters and although he relates all their names and ages, I

get totally lost. He is one of the youngest, that much I do grasp.

Short, stocky and dark haired, James is as typical a Welshman to look

at as you can get.

203

Glyn is a local and actually attended Pennington House as a boy,

his parents living near Box where his father is a vicar. Glyn’s a

couple of years older than me I’d guess. Taller than the other two, he

has fair colouring and blue eyes which laugh a lot. Like me, he is a

little heavier than modern fashion decrees – I don’t think he’s very

fond of exercise from what he says about the sports regime at the

school.

‘So don’t any of you gentlemen have wives or girlfriends?’ I

asked during a hiatus in the insult throwing.

‘Charlie here used to be married but saw the light and persuaded

his wife to divorce him.’ James answered.

Concerned that I might have asked the wrong question, I glance

at Charlie who is grinning at me happily.

‘I keep trying to talk James out of marriage.’ He said, shaking

his head, ‘He’s engaged, silly man!’

‘Where’s your fiancée?’ I asked smiling at his tone, sipping my

fruit juice.

‘Away at university – she’s studying medicine.’ He replied,

‘She’s got another two years to go before she qualifies. What about

you, Maggie?’

‘I’m separated.’ I answered, ‘Matt, my husband, works up in

Cumbria. It’s all very amicable though. He’s found a nice girlfriend

up there; I’m ever so pleased for him.’

‘There you are, Glyn, the lady is available.’ James said

cheekily, making me blush. ‘Glyn was going out with one of the

204

matrons at school but she upped and left for pastures new last term,

leaving him alone and weeping into his beer, Maggie. Take pity on

the poor man.’

‘We split up well before she left.’ Glyn protested, ‘Maggie,

don’t listen to a word this idiot says!’

It’s eleven thirty by the time we leave the pub – the boys have to

be back in school before midnight … causing several comments about

glass slippers, pumpkins and nubile young women, which have me

giggling. They walk me to my car, insisting that they must protect me

from the terrors of the night, James challenging every shadow to

‘come out and fight like a man!’ - I’m nearly wetting myself by the

time we get to the car … I can’t remember when I laughed so much.

Charlie and James shake hands with me formally, thanking me for a

delightful evening while Glyn stands by shaking his head.

‘Glyn, be a good boy and give the lady a hug.’ Charlie

instructed, very much in a school master tone of voice.

With an ironic glance, Glyn gives me a hug and kisses me on the

cheek as the other two applaud and I don’t know whether to die of

embarrassment or laughter. They wave madly as I drive off, my grin

as broad as theirs.

I am still grinning when I get back to the house, a fact which

Marian comments on, saying it is good to see. Over coffee, I tell her

about the evening and the mad trio I have met up with.

‘What’s Charlie’s surname?’ she asked curiously.

‘No idea, why?’

205

‘I’ve a vague idea I might know him. See if you can find out

next time you see them. ’ She replied thoughtfully. ‘But never mind

that now, Jenna tells me you are all going over to Clevedon for lunch

tomorrow. That’s very kind of your parents, Maggie.’

‘Jenna’s been really nervous about it, Marian, any idea why?’ I

asked, glad she’s brought the subject up.

‘She worries about making a bad impression, Maggie. Jenna

tends to expect the world to dislike her. It makes meeting new people

terrifying for her … she was in a hell of a tizz when I told her she

would be coming here … it was your Toby who broke the ice.’

Marian replied slowly, her deep concern written all over her face.

‘But why? She’s a lovely girl.’

‘I don’t know … she’s been like it since they moved down from

Scotland … I can only assume it was something which happened up

there. Possibly something to do with her father … I don’t know.’

‘She’s been okay here.’

‘I think that’s down to your hands-on attitude, Maggie. It’s

given her confidence. I was very impressed by how self-assured she

was making that cake tonight.’

‘She’s turning into a capable little cook. You must come over

for a meal now you’re more mobile.’

‘That would be nice, Maggie, thank you.’ Marian said, clearly

pleased by the invitation. ‘It was nice being here with them tonight.

Your Duncan is a lovely lad – we had a long chat.’

206

‘He’s turning out all right, I think. I was worried that the

separation would affect him but he seems to have sorted it all out in

his head.’ I replied, gratified at her praise.

‘That’s very much what he said, Maggie. He’s been very good

for Mickey too … I think it’s given him a different outlook. Oh life is

so complicated at times! Anyway, Maggie, you’d better take me

home before we get too comfortable here.’

‘Heavens! It’s nearly one fifteen.’ I exclaimed glancing at the

clock and reaching for my car keys. ‘Thank you so much for

babysitting, Marian.’

‘I enjoyed it – we’ll do it again.’ She said with a smile.

We are a motley crew of dressing-gown clad people over

breakfast. I, for one, am feeling the after effects of my late night – I’d

woken to hear Duncan and Mickey talking outside my room. The

clock had revealed the horrible fact it was only ten to eight but, as I

frequently remind myself, mothers don’t get a day off.

The boys are keen to hear all about the film as they munch their

breakfast. Jenna materialises looking rather heavy-eyed … is she

going down with the bug the boys have had?

‘Are you all right, Jenna?’ I asked anxiously as she helps

herself to some toast rather lethargically.

‘Yes, I’m fine, Aunt Maggie. I just didn’t sleep very well last

night.’ She admitted with a yawn.

207

‘Why don’t you go back to bed for a while, Jenna? We don’t

have to leave until eleven, you could have another hour or so. Take

your tea and toast up with you.’

‘That would be great,’ she said, stifling another yawn.

She shuffles sleepily back upstairs while the boys make up for

their lack of appetite last week. Reminding them to be quiet because

Jenna is dozing, I send them upstairs to shower and dress.

‘You’ll have to take turns in the bathroom today, boys. I’ll need

my shower in a few minutes, Duncan.’ I said as they get to the

kitchen door. ‘Please don’t leave a mess in the bathroom.’

I clear away the breakfast things and stack them on the draining

board debating whether I can get away with leaving the washing up

… no, Maggie, it will look even worse when you come back.

Reluctantly, I run a bowl of hot water and, my mind dozing, I get all

the dirty dishes out of the way.

When I go upstairs to shower, I hear the boys talking in loud

whispers … their efforts at being quiet are decidedly non-effective but

at least they are trying. With a bit of luck, Jenna will get some sleep.

My bed looks very welcoming but I firmly resist its lures and,

hoping the hot water will revive me a little, step into the shower. I

gasp as the water hits me … it’s freezing! Realising that the

temperature control is set to cold, I quickly turn it, shivering while the

water warms up. Well, that woke me up if nothing else.

By the time I get back downstairs, I am feeling much more

normal. The boys are being very good, working quietly on their

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jigsaw. I allow myself the luxury of reading yesterday’s newspaper

over another cup of coffee.

Jenna’s room is dim and silent when I go up to rouse her just

before ten thirty. She’s sound asleep … Toby curled up beside her.

‘Jenna, love, it’s time to get up.’ I said gently.

She stirs and groans disturbing the cat who immediately stands

on top of the lump under the duvet which is Jenna and starts purring

as he pads his paws into the duvet cover.

‘Urghhhh .’ Jenna protested, ‘Toby … don’t!’

‘You’ve got half an hour to get yourself ready.’ I told her.

She looks brighter than she did earlier … the sleep’s done her

good.

While she sorts herself out, I check the boys over. They don’t

look too bad, although I do have to send Duncan up to change his

jumper, the one he’s chosen has something spilt all down the front

and clearly has not been through the washing machine. He complains

– this jumper is his favourite.

‘Duncan – just get yourself up those stairs and find a clean one.

‘Oh Mum ….’

I look at him. Defeated, he trails up to his room and changes,

promising that he’ll put the dirty one in the laundry basket. He’s

coming back down as Jenna materialises, looking pretty in a denim

skirt and jumper – she wears trousers to school and rarely wears a

skirt. She smiles at me shyly asking if her outfit is suitable.

‘Very much so.’ I replied, ‘You look lovely.’

209

Fruit cake safely in the cake tin, we set off for my parents’

house.

‘I hear you had a nice time with your Gran last night, kids.’ I

remarked conversationally once we are on our way. ‘She enjoyed

herself.’

‘Hmmm …’ Jenna replied ‘It was nice. She’s a lot better now –

that operation’s made a big difference. We had a long talk … she was

saying that she might go back to work.’

‘Yes, she mentioned that to me the other day … the idea is that

you two would come to me after school then she’d pick you up when

she finishes at the office. I’d have you here during the school

holidays and if you were unwell. How do you feel about that?’

‘That’d be great.’ Mickey announced happily from the back

seat.

‘What do you think, Jenna?’ I repeated, glancing at the girl

beside me.

‘I like it.’ She said in a very satisfied tone, ‘It would be the best

of both worlds – both you and Gran.’

Her use of words stuns me a little, I’ve become very fond of

both her and Mickey over the past few weeks; it hadn’t dawned on me

that they might feel the same way about me. Digesting this, I drive in

silence, half listening to the boys in the back talking about football,

while Jenna gazes out at the passing countryside, lost in a world of

her own. Funny how we’ve shaken down into such a solid group; I

never thought it would be like this.

210

As I park outside Mum and Dad’s house, I see Jenna’s grip on

the cake tin tense, her knuckles white.

‘Hang on there, Jenna, I’ll come round and open the door for

you.’ I said, remembering what Marion said last night.

The boys leap out of the car enthusiastically, Mickey carried

along by Duncan’s confidence. Mum was obviously watching for us,

for, before I can get round to Jenna’s side of the car, Mum has opened

the front door of the house and is welcoming the boys.

Taking my time, I open the car door for Jenna and hold the cake

tin while she gets out of the car, handing it back to her with an

encouraging smile. Together we walk up the path to the house.

‘Maggie, lovely to see you.’ Mum said giving me a hug,‘And is

this Jenna?’ she went on, ‘How nice to meet you, my dear. But

come on into the house, it is freezing out here. The boys have gone to

find Dad in the shed.’

‘Jenna’s made a cake for you, Mum.’ I said, taking pity on

Jenna who is standing there not quite knowing what to do with the

cake tin.

I could have hugged Mum for her response – with a beaming

smile, she turns to Jenna, taking the tin and just lifting the lid so she

can see what is inside.

‘Thank you, that is kind of you, Jenna … oh … that looks nice.

We’re very fond of fruit cake.’ She said. ‘Just hang your coat up

there, dear.’

211

We follow Mum into the kitchen where, as I anticipated,

everything is very much under control. I learned my kitchen

management from my mother who was an excellent example.

Putting the cake tin down on the side, Mum chats away to Jenna,

telling her how much she has heard from me about her cooking

expertise.

‘You can give me a hand with lunch, if you like, Jenna.’ Mum

said ‘I’ve not had a granddaughter and Duncan isn’t really interested

in female things.’

Jenna, looking more relaxed now, shyly says she would be

pleased to help with anything.

‘Maggie, why don’t you go and see what the menfolk are doing,

Jenna and I can get to know each other while we finish off lunch

preparations.’

Taking this for the hint it is, I go out of the kitchen into the

garden. Dad has a large shed near the house where, as Mum puts it,

he plays with his toys. Dad’s always been a potterer, doing a bit of

this and a bit of that as the fancy takes him. When I was younger, he

got involved in amateur radio, taking the exam and getting properly

qualified. I remember being transfixed by hearing squeaky voices

coming out of the speaker and being told that they were somewhere in

the middle of Europe … the tall, metal pole where he mounted an

enormous aerial still stands by the shed, a mute reminder of one of

Dad’s many interests.

212

The boys are deep in conversation with Dad when I go into the

shed, the three of them looking up as the door creaks.

‘Ah, Maggie, come in. I have been talking to these young men

of yours.’ Dad said – he’s in his element with children, Mum reckons

it’s because he’s never grown up. ‘They’ve been telling me about the

jigsaws they have been doing.’

‘Grandpa says we could make one, Mum.’ Duncan said, his

eyes wide with excitement.

‘That’s a good idea.’ I replied, giving my father a hug. ‘It

would take rather a long time though, wouldn’t it?’

‘I reckon we could make one in a day.’ Dad said, ‘I’ve

suggested to Mickey here that he might like to make one for his Gran

for Christmas.’

‘Now that’s a good idea.’ I replied, ‘But how are you going to

manage that, Dad?’

‘Well, the office is closed next Saturday because the water

supply is off ... they are relaying the mains pipe or something, so I

was wondering if these two might like to come over on Friday night

and stay until Sunday.’ Dad suggested, glancing at the boys who are

standing beside him.

‘What does Mum say to that?’ I asked and they all look slightly

sheepish.

‘I’ve not mentioned it to her yet.’ Dad admitted, ‘But we’ll

have a word over dinner.’ A buzzer sounds in the shed – Mum got

Dad to rig it up after one particularly foul winter when she got very

213

cold and wet traipsing out to haul Dad inside for meals. ‘Sounds as

though dinner is ready, boys. Come on, let’s go and wash our hands’

The boys don’t need telling twice, not with food in the offing,

Dad sharing their enthusiasm. Feeling like the only adult in the party,

I trail behind the three of them back to the house, grinning to myself

… and Dad thought fostering kids was a duff idea?

Jenna greets me with a beaming smile as I go back into the

kitchen, a tea towel tied round her waist to protect her clothes, just as

I used to have when I helped Mum.

‘Go and sit down, Maggie,’ Mum said, ‘We’ve got everything

under control, haven’t we, Jenna?’

Feeling like a spare part, I go through to the dining room where

the table is laid for six. Dad offers me a glass of wine.

‘Thanks, Dad. You seem to have hit it off with Mickey.’ I

commented, sipping my wine and enjoying the warming glow.

‘He’s a nice kid.’ Dad replied, ‘It would be fun having them

here next weekend. Anyway, it won’t do you any harm to have a

couple of days to yourself.’

It is a very pleasant, relaxed meal and, by the time we get to

pudding, I am feeling so proud of my three kids that I could burst.

Mum compliments Jenna a couple of times, Jenna almost

glowing under the praise.

I didn’t know what to tell Jenna and Mickey to call my parents,

it would be inappropriate for them to use Grandpa/Grandma,

especially as they have a Grandma of their own, but it looks as though

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the problem has been solved … Jenna is happily calling my mother

‘Granny Cooper’ and before long, Mickey has adapted this to

‘Grampy Cooper’ for my father.

Dad introduces the idea of the boys coming here next weekend

as Mum dishes the pudding (apple pie with custard, the latter made by

Jenna), explaining that they want to work on a jigsaw project and

going on to say that Mickey wants to make one for his grandmother

for Christmas.

‘The office is going to be closed on Saturday anyway, so we

could spend the whole day on the project.’ He finished.

Mum grins at me and we exchange a knowing look – Dad used

to be much the same with the boys in the crowd I grew up with.

‘I don’t see why not. Could you bring them over on Friday

night, Maggie?’ she asked, giving in to the inevitable, but looking

fairly happy about it – come to think of it, Mum used to love it when I

brought the crowd back here for coffee after an evening out. ‘One of

you boys would have to sleep on the floor – there’s only one bed in

the spare room.’

‘They could both bring sleeping bags.’ I suggested, earning

grateful looks from the boys, who clearly consider sleeping in a bed

too boring for words when there is a sleeping bag on the floor in the

offing. ‘Then they could both sleep on the floor.’

‘I’ll bring them back to you on Sunday afternoon, shall I?’ Dad

offered. ‘I could have a look at that sticking door of yours at the same

time.’

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‘Thanks, that would be useful, Dad. Now that the weather is

damper, the shed door is almost impossible to open.’ I replied. ‘I

have to really yank on it and am concerned that I might do some

damage … not least to me.’

Jenna is looking very thoughtful – I find out why as we help

Mum wash up after dinner. The male contingent has gone off to

make plans for next weekend.

‘Aunt Maggie …’ she said, apparently concentrating on wiping

up the plate in her hands, ‘Gran suggested that it might be possible for

me to go and stay with her for a night … if the boys are coming here,

how would it be if I were to go to Gran’s on Friday night.’

‘That’s a lovely idea, Jenna. Your Gran would love to have you

to stay, I’m sure.’ I replied, ‘You can ask her next time you see her.’

‘You wouldn’t be lonely being on your own, would you?’ Jenna

went on anxiously

‘No … not at all. It’ll be nice to have some time to myself.’ I

said, wondering if it would be.

Maybe I could arrange to go out somewhere … the thought of

Pete Tregarran comes into my mind; I kick it firmly out again. One

thing I have discovered from his paperwork, is that he is five years

younger than me, why would he want to look at me?

Maybe the mad trio will be up for going somewhere.

After lunch, Mum suggests that the kids might like to go for a

walk down to the sea. She’d checked with me that I was happy for

them to go out on their own while we washed up and Jenna had been

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quite keen on the idea. Duncan knows his way around, so they

shouldn’t get lost, and they are sensible children.

‘Now, stay together and be sensible.’ I said firmly, as they

stand ready to go, ‘You are to be back here by three thirty at the latest

– understand?’

‘I gave Duncan some money for ice creams, Maggie – hope that

was okay.’ Dad owned up as we sit down with a cup of tea once they

have gone.

‘That was kind of you, Dad. They’ll enjoy that.’ I said,

relaxing into the armchair. ‘Lovely meal, Mum, thank you.’

‘My pleasure, Maggie.’ Mum replied, ‘I like Jenna, though I

see what you mean about lacking confidence. That Mickey’s a

character – he has all the confidence his sister lacks, by the look of it.

But they’ve both got nice manners.’

…the ultimate accolade from my mother.

‘How is their grandmother doing?’ Dad asked.

‘She’s recovering well but it is a slow and frustrating business

and she can’t drive yet.’ I replied, ‘She came and babysat for me last

night and was pathetically grateful to get out of her cottage.’

‘I’m not surprised.’ Mum commented. ‘It’d drive me potty

being tied to the house like that.’

‘It was made worse because we couldn’t go and visit her last

week what with the boys being ill. She didn’t even have that to look

forward to.’

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‘Jenna mentioned that their mother called on you yesterday.’

Mum said, surprising me, I should imagine that this would have been

the last thing for Jenna to volunteer to a relative stranger.

‘That the alcoholic?’ Dad asked.

‘Yes, and she was extremely drunk.’ I answered with a sigh, ‘It

was very difficult. Mickey was upstairs with Duncan fortunately,

he’s frightened of his mother when she’s drunk, but Jenna took charge

very competently. I was somewhat at a loss, not knowing what to

do.’

‘Why is he afraid of his mother?’ Dad asked

‘Jenna says that once when he was tiny, Fiona got very drunk

and threw things around their home. Not surprisingly, it scared him

rigid. He can’t remember a time when his mother wasn’t drinking

and doesn’t remember his father at all.’ I told him. ‘From what Jenna

has said, her mother used to lean very heavily on the girl after her

father left.’

‘That’s terribly sad, Maggie.’ Mum commented, ‘It’s not fair to

do that to children.’

‘No, it made me very grateful for my trouble-free childhood, I

can tell you. I’ve never really thought about it before, just taken it for

granted, but I’m now realising just how lucky I was.’ My parents

exchange a glance I cannot read. One rarely considers one’s parents

in the same light as one’s own relationships but for an instant I

recognize that they must sometimes have wondered if they were

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bringing me up properly. ‘I was very fortunate with my parents – I

don’t think I’ve ever thanked you for that.’ I finished.

‘You don’t have to thank us, Maggie.’ Dad said after a

moment’s embarrassed silence, ‘We’ve been very lucky with our

daughter. When all this separation business came up, we wondered if

perhaps we’d pushed you into that marriage. It seemed so sensible at

the time … secure and safe. Your Mum and I have been talking about

it quite a lot lately, wondering if we should have seen how things

were.’

‘I don’t think you pushed me, Dad … as you say, it seemed the

logical thing to do at the time. I think Matt and I would have

pootered along quite happily if this job in Cumbria hadn’t come along

but at some stage I daresay we’d have realised how things were, and it

might have been too late for either of us by then. At least this way,

we both have a chance of finding a real relationship with someone

else. Matt has found a girlfriend, by the way – did I tell you? I’m

ever so pleased for him.’

‘What about you, Maggie?’ Mum asked, her concern masked

… but showing round the edges, ‘It’s going to be much harder for you

with Duncan.’

‘I know, I realise that … there have been one or two … um …

difficult moments over the past few weeks. I’ve never been so very

much on my own before and it’s come as a shock. But I’m making

new friends and getting out a little, so it’s not so bad.’ I answered,

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going on to tell them about the mad trio. ‘I’m getting some regular

work in the accountancy line too which helps.’

‘Well, don’t forget we are here if you ever have a crisis.’ Dad

said firmly. ‘We’re proud of you, Maggie, just remember that.’

The disturbance caused by the doorbell ringing gives me the

seconds I need to fight back the tears. This has been a rather

emotional conversation – most unusual for my parents – and the

reappearance of the children is a relief. Mum goes off to let them in

and fusses over them a little.

‘Thank you so much for the ice cream, Grampy Cooper.’

Mickey said bouncing into the lounge. ‘I had one with a chocolate

flake in it. It was scrummy.’

‘I’m glad you enjoyed it, Mickey.’ Dad said delighted, ‘We’ll

have to see what treats we can fit into next weekend, won’t we?’

Before we go home, Mum insists that the children have a drink

and a biscuit though it is not that long since they had a massive lunch

– a fact I bring up with little effect.

‘They are growing children, Maggie.’ Mum replied, earning

grateful smiles from all three kids.

Jenna, her cheeks red from the cold air, her eyes sparkling,

munches on her biscuit with as much enthusiasm as the boys.

I insist that they all have an early night and, despite their initial

objections, by eight thirty they are all yawning.

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‘I don’t mind if you read for a while, but I want you all to go to

bed and be quiet.’ I said sternly. ‘It has been a busy weekend and I

want you to be fit for school tomorrow.’

Just after nine, I go round to check on them. Mickey is sound

asleep, his book lying where it fell out of his hands; I gently remove it

and tuck him in … funny how boys always look so angelic when they

are asleep.

Duncan is much the same. He stirs briefly as I tuck him in,

opens his eyes and smiles at me before turning over and going straight

back to sleep.

Jenna is sitting up in bed reading. I go in and sit on the end of

her bed, Toby is curled up on the duvet and gives me a filthy look as I

disturb him, making a big thing of moving over slightly.

‘Good day?’ I asked as she puts her bookmark where she has

got to and closes the book.

‘Very good.’ She said, hugging her knees. ‘Your mum’s

lovely. I was silly being so nervous about going to Clevedon.’

‘Just a bit.’ I conceded, not wanting to be too negative. ‘Next

time you get nervous about something remember that. It might help.’

‘Hmmm …’ she smiled ‘Do you realise we’ll have been here a

month next weekend.’

‘Really? Hasn’t it gone quickly.’ I replied doing some quick

calculations ... she’s right. ‘Were you nervous about coming here?’

‘Terrified. It was scary enough when Gran took over from

Mum, everything changed, but I got used to that and then it all

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changed again. It began to feel as though nothing was permanent …

as soon as I got used to something it altered.’

‘I’m not surprised you were scared. In your place I’d have been

much the same.’

‘Would you?’ she asked looking up at me searchingly. ‘You

never seem to be scared of anything, Aunt Maggie.’

‘Believe me, I get scared, Jenna. But it’s one thing being scared

and quite another letting that stop you doing whatever it is that scares

you.’ I replied ‘I was pretty scared on Saturday when your Mum

appeared. I didn’t have the foggiest idea what to do.’

‘But you looked so confident, Aunt Maggie.’

‘That is the secret, Jenna, half the time, if you can convince

everyone else that you are confident, you get away with whatever it

is.’ I confided, ‘It also boosts your own confidence and the pretence

frequently becomes fact. Anyway, it never helps to panic and

collapse in a heap.’

Jenna laughs, commenting that she can’t imagine me panicking,

let alone collapsing in a heap.

‘I don’t know about that, but I think it is time for you to snuggle

down and go to sleep, young lady.’ I said, kissing her on the forehead

and tucking her in. ‘sleep well.’

‘’Night, Aunt Maggie.’

Taking my own advice, I go downstairs, turn everything off and

get myself off to bed. As I close my eyes and start drifting off to

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sleep, I remember that I’ve got a weekend off …. I wonder what I can

do with it ….. not surprisingly, I dream about Pete Tregarran …

223

Chapter 12

We bump into Caroline on the way to school – I’ve not seen her

for weeks … at least that’s what it feels like … it’s good to see her.

She’s equally pleased to see me and we talk animatedly all the way

down the road, catching up on events.

‘At least you escaped that frightful bug, Maggie.’ She said,

sounding slightly hoarse. ‘I caught it off Daisy and was really rough

with it, I’m still coughing.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that, Caroline. How on earth did you

manage?’ I asked, suddenly very aware of how fortunate I have been.

‘Jim covered the school run in the mornings and Jan fielded

Daisy – naturally my daughter was fit long before I was!’ she replied,

breaking off to cough. ‘Oh, this blasted cough! But, enough of that,

I’ll survive. Any chance you can come round for coffee? We haven’t

had a good chat for ages.’

‘Yes, I’d love to, when do you suggest?’

‘I’ve got to get some bits at the shop on the way back from

school, but should be back by ten … do you want to come over then?’

Caroline suggested

‘That would suit me – I really ought to push the vacuum round

but don’t feel over inspired by housework this morning.’ I said and

she grins understanding exactly what I mean.

With that to look forward to, I am spurred into action as soon as

I get home, whizzing round with a duster and then running the

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vacuum over the carpets. Mickey’s room is starting to look untidy …

I’ll have a word with him about that. We had this problem when he

first came here, he seems to think that there is some sort of magic

which will tidy things up for him. Duncan’s room is presentable,

more or less … maybe it’s time for a word with him too. As usual,

Jenna has left everything neat and tidy. She takes a pride in keeping

her things straight.

It is pleasant walking down to Caroline’s house. The sun’s

come out today and although there is a nip in the air, it’s slightly

milder than it has been of late. Considering it’s early December that’s

pretty good going.

‘So how are things with you, Maggie?’ Caroline asked once we

are comfortably seated with coffee and some wonderfully chocolatey

biscuits she ‘just happened’ to pick up in the shop while she was

there.

‘Fine, thanks. The kids have settled in really well now … it’s

funny how quickly they’ve become part of the family. We all went to

lunch with my parents yesterday.’

‘Really? How did that go? I know you said that they weren’t

terrible in favour of you fostering originally.’

‘Well, that’s all changed now, Caroline. Mum and Jenna hit it

off immediately and Dad was in his element with two boys instead of

the usual one to play with. In fact, the boys are going over there at

the weekend to do some woodwork with Dad. They’re really excited

about the prospect of sleeping on the floor in their sleeping bags.’

225

We both laugh.

‘That’s brilliant, Maggie. I’m so glad it’s working out for you.

Another biscuit?’

‘Better not – I’m trying to watch my weight a bit at the

moment.’

‘Oh? Any nice men on the horizon?’ Caroline teased

‘Well, I met up with three loonies at the Institute lecture I went

to last week … don’t know if you’d count them.’ I replied with a

grin.

‘What sort of loonies?’

‘Teachers on the loose from Pennington House.’ I replied,

telling her about the antics Charlie, James and Glyn got up to and how

we’d gone to the cinema on Saturday night. ‘It was a pleasant

antidote to the visitation we had in the afternoon, I can tell you.’

‘What was that all about?’

‘Fiona Thompson, the kids’ mother appeared on the doorstep,

though how she got to my place at all as drunk as she was, I have no

idea. It was lucky that Jenna knew how to deal with the situation,

Mickey was upstairs with Duncan, lying very low and I was in a flat

panic, not knowing what to do at all.’

‘Whatever did you do with her, Maggie?’

‘Well … while Jenna kept her mother occupied in the kitchen, I

rang the kid’s Gran, and she contacted Sam Dehaney. He came ou t to

take Fiona back to wherever it is she is staying. Considering it was a

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Saturday afternoon, it was very good of him to come out so quickly.

Don’t they ever get any time when they’re not on call?’

‘It depends, Maggie, if you are dedicated to your clients – as

Sam is – it can take over your life.’

‘Heavens, that must play havoc with your personal life.’

‘Yes, it does. I think Sam’s marriage broke down mainly

because of that, his wife didn’t understand how he feels about his

work. I’m afraid it can be one of those jobs where you marry the job

as well as the person, a bit like a vicar or a teacher. I know Jim had

some trouble coming to terms with it when we first got together –

clients don’t necessarily have their crises at convenient times. Of

course, it helped that Jim works with students, so understood how it is

to a large extent.’ Caroline explained, ‘I bet Sam had an interesting

journey back to Weston-super-Mare though – don’t envy him that one

little bit.’

‘Is that where she’s in rehab?’

‘I expect so, there are several centres there – the locals don’t

like it at all and I can see their point to some extent, but everyone has

to be somewhere. How did the kids cope with it?’

‘Better than I did, in some ways, Jenna was far too familiar

with having to deal with her mother in that state. It has made me very

aware of how trouble-free my childhood was.’

‘It can get you like that. I felt much the same when I started my

first caseload. Oh Maggie, it is nice talking to you – Jan only ever

wants to gossip and talk about TV programmes she has seen.’

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‘Well, it’s all she’s got to think about, isn’t it?’

‘Ouch!’ Caroline winced.

‘Oh, I’m sorry, Caroline, it just hurt being left out.’

I’m not usually bitchy about people and it doesn’t feel very

comfortable.

‘I can imagine. That was a nasty little episode, Maggie … Jim

and I were amazed. I have to say that the party wasn’t the same

without you there.’

‘Thanks, I’d been warned that this sort of thing might happen,

but it came as a shock all the same.’

It’s enjoyable sitting chatting to Caroline. I mention that Jenna

is hoping to stay with her Gran for the weekend.

‘So you’ll be child-free for a couple of days, Maggie.’ Caroline

commented ‘What are you going to do with yourself?’

‘I don’t know. I might see if the mad trio are around … or go

up and watch Pete working.’

‘Pete? And who is Pete?’ Caroline pounced with an inquisitive

smile on her face

‘One of my clientele.’ I said self-consciously, ‘He runs a

commercial horticultural business from one of Fred Plaister’s barns. I

do his accounts.’

‘And that explains why you’re blushing, I suppose.’ Caroline

commented wryly.

‘I’m not!’ I declared rushing over to look in the mirror which

hangs above the fireplace, much to Caroline’s amusement.

228

‘So tell me about this man.’ She invited, her grin wide.

As nonchalantly as I can, I briefly tell her a little about Pete,

stressing that we are just two people who have a love for gardening in

common. ‘He’s a lot younger than me, anyway, Caroline.’ I finished,

explaining the five year age gap.

‘I don’t think five years counts as a lot younger, Maggie.’

Caroline teased ‘What’s he look like?’

‘Tallish, thinnish, with a ponytail.’

‘Oh, the interesting type. All right I’ll stop teasing you now,

Maggie. But you must keep me posted on any developments.’

Once I get home, I quickly prepare myself something to eat,

then, munching on my sandwich, get down to some serious work on

the latest bundle of garage papers which have been dropped through

my letter box.

The phone rings just before three ... I reach for it, grateful for

the interruption.

'Maggie?' said Pete's voice , 'Just thought I’d give you a ring to

check that everything’s okay.'

'Yes, it's all fine. I got those cheques sent off on Friday and

we're up to date on the invoices for your clients.' I replied, kicking

myself for the way my stomach turned over at the sound of his voice.

'How's your week going? Are the boys better now?' he asked,

obviously keen to have a chat.

'Yes, they've gone back to school today. The weekend was

eventful though.' I replied, settling back comfortably in my chair.

229

'In what way?' he asked and I tell him about Fiona's

appearance. 'That must have been difficult for you, Maggie.'

'Yes, it shook me a little but an evening at the cinema sorted me

out.'

'What did you go to see?'

I kick myself again … I don’t want to give him the idea that

there is a man on the scene … so go into a complicated explanation of

how I met up with the mad trio in the first place, stressing their

threesomeness.

'Sounds like you had fun.'

‘I did. In fact, the weekend was one long social whirl - I took

the kids over to my parents' for lunch on Sunday as well. The boys

are going over there to stay next weekend.’

… I must remember to tell Fred he won’t have his helpers.

'Wow - so you’re having a girly weekend with Jenna, are you?'

'No, we're hoping that Jenna is going to stay with her Gran, so I

shall be all on my own.' I replied, hoping that doesn't sound as though

I am angling to see him.

'When are they all abandoning you? Only I'm going to be

having a tree-building session on Friday night … you said you wanted

to see how it’s done … you'd be more than welcome to come up then.'

'I've got to take the boys over to Clevedon after school on Friday

- so I could take you up on that.' I answered, sticking my tongue out

at my all too delighted reflection in the mirror. 'What sort of time?'

230

'Any time after seven-thirty would be fine, Maggie. But I'll see

you on Thursday morning anyway, won't I?'

'Yes, of course. Pete, I'd love to sit here chatting but I've got to

go - it's nearly time to pick the boys up from school.'

'I'd better let you go then, mustn't get in the way of the busy

mother! See you on Thursday.'

Glyn rings me on Tuesday evening. We chat about nothing in

particular for half an hour and then I remember what Marian said.

‘Glyn, what’s Charlie’s surname?’

‘Berring … why?’ he very reasonably asked.

‘A friend of mine was asking.’ I said, scribbling the name down

on the pad by the phone – I know I shall never remember it otherwise.

‘Marian Benson. She lives in the village.’

‘Oh, I’ll ask him if he knows her.’ Glyn said.

I can almost see the mischievous look on his face as he

anticipates the teasing possibilities.

‘Hey, Maggie, are you doing anything on Friday night?’

'Sorry, Glyn, I’m busy Friday night. The rest of the weekend is

pretty vacant at the moment, though.'

'I can't help you there, Maggie. We're all tied up here at the

weekend - the school is hosting a visit from a similar establishment in

Italy and we are all required to be here in our best bib and tuckers.' he

moaned, 'Oh well, another time perhaps.'

'I'll look forward to it.'

231

Wednesday morning, on my way back from dropping the boys

off at school, I call in at the baker's to get some bread. Those boys get

through so much; they finished off what stock I had at breakfast this

morning. I honestly don't know where they put the amount they eat

sometimes ... they don't seem to put on any excess weight - still, I

suppose they are fairly active.

Dave, Jan's husband, is in there and I join the queue behind

him.

'Hello, Maggie.' he said warmly 'Not seen you for a while.'

'No.' I replied shortly, the sting from being left out of their

firework party still hurting, then, feeling guilty at being so offhand, I

go on. 'How are things with you?'

'Fine, fine. What about you? You must be feeling the draught

now that you are on your own.'

'It is a little strange at times.' I said as we shuffle forward

towards the counter – it’s busy in here today. 'But I’m getting used to

it.'

Dave has reached the head of the queue and has to attend to the

girl serving. It is soon my turn and, clutching a still-warm loaf, I’m

soon walking out of the shop. To my surprise, Dave has waited for

me. We stand outside the shop, resuming our conversation.

'Not having a man around the place must be difficult, Maggie.'

'Oh, I am fairly handy when it comes to DIY.' I replied, not

quite comfortable with the glint in his eye and wondering where

exactly this conversation is going.

232

'I didn't mean that.' He said with a leer, 'I expect you get chilly

on your own at night. Let me know if you ever want any company.'

It takes me a moment to realise what he is meaning … the

bastard!

'Thanks for the offer, Dave, but I doubt I shall ever get that

desperate.' I said as bitingly as I can - furious that he should think I’d

welcome such an offer from the husband of a friend. 'Excuse me, I

have things to do.'

As I march off down the street, I am fuming. How dare he!

'You look pretty angry about something.' An amused voice said.

I stop in my headlong rush along the pavement to find Jane

Hammond standing in the doorway of the newsagent’s beside me.

'Sorry, Jane, I didn't see you there.'

'I'm not surprised - you look absolutely furious about something,

Maggie.' she replied as we move slowly along the footpath together.

'I am.' I said in an outraged voice, 'I think I've just been

propositioned.'

'Really?' Jane said, laughing slightly, 'Wow! That's never

happened to me.' Her reaction dissipates my anger a little. 'But

joking apart, don't let it upset you, Maggie.'

'I know I'm over-reacting, but it shook me, Jane. I suppose it

wouldn't have been so bad if his wife, who's a longstanding friend of

mine, hadn't deliberately not invited me to a recent party of theirs.'

'That's nasty. But even so, don't let it upset you that other

people are so insensitive. Have you got time for a coffee?'

233

'Yes, I suppose I have.'

It would probably be better not to be on my own at the moment

... I anticipate that conversation with Dave will go round and round in

my head for some time to come.

I don't often go into the café in the village, it seems so very silly

when I live only ten minutes away but I’ve heard good reports from

those who use it regularly. The woman behind the counter greets Jane

warmly … looks as though Jane is a regular in here. Thinking about

it, her encountering people much as she did me, must be a regular

event in her life as the Vicar's wife.

I firmly resist the cakes on offer, earning Jane's admiration.

'I don't usually manage to be so strong minded ... and it shows.'

she confided as we carry out coffees over to a table by the window

and sit down. 'So, apart from being the local scarlet woman, how are

things with you?'

'Good.' I replied, sipping my coffee - they serve a decent brew

in here. 'Jenna and Mickey have settled in well – it’s fun having a

large family.'

'Do you think you’ll go on to look after more children once they

go back to their grandmother?' Jane asked, revealing an intimate

knowledge of the situation which really should not surprise me. But

that’s village life for you.

'I'd certainly be up for it. But I’ve been spoilt – they’re very

nice children - I doubt I’d be as lucky again. However, I think the

link with the Thompsons will carry on, their Gran is thinking of going

234

back to work now that I’m available to cover after school and during

the holidays.'

'Oh that's a wonderful idea.' Jane exclaimed, 'So what are you

up to socially - found anything to get you out of the house yet?'

… I wonder just what she has heard ... with a grin, I tell her

about my attendance at the recent lecture and how I met up with the

mad trio, making her laugh at the description of the trip to the

cinema. We sit chatting for a little longer then, waking up to the

realisation that it is nearly eleven and we both have things we should

be doing, split up and go our separate ways.

The boys are full of the fun they had with my father when we

get to Marian's place after school, Mickey being painfully and very

obviously secretive about the project which the three of them are

going to work on and Marian deliberately not picking up on it.

‘I think he would have burst if he’d had to stay down here much

longer.’ Marian commented with amusement, once they have

disappeared to play upstairs, ‘It is kind of your father to take such an

interest, Maggie.’

‘Oh Dad loves kids – believe me, it’s no great hardship for him

having two boys to play with instead of just the one.’

‘It must be good for Mickey having a man around … he’s

always lived in a very female household.’ Marian said thoughtfully,

‘I’ve never thought about that before. Anyway, I’ve had a chat with

Gary Blackford, Maggie, about the possibility of me going back to

work. It’s still only a tentative suggestion, but he’s going to talk to

235

the other partners and see what they can come up with. I have to say

I’m rather excited about it; I never thought I would be able to go back

to work and I do so love the intellectual challenge of legal work.’

‘The kids seem up for it too – I believe it would work very well

for all of us.’ I stated.

We grin at each other. It is a short hop from there to the idea of

Jenna coming to stay on Friday evening; Marian is delighted at the

suggestion. She saw her doctor today and he has told her that all is

well - it is only a question of time until she is well enough to have

them home again. We arrange that Jenna will come home to me after

school so that she can pack an overnight bag and that I will run her

down. That way, I will know that she gets here safely.

'What are you intending to do with yourself over the weekend,

Maggie?'

'I don't know. I'm going up to watch Pete making artificial trees

on Friday night but apart from that, I haven't anything planned.’

'That should be interesting.' she said, a twinkle lurking in her

eye 'Is this the horticultural version of 'come and see my etchings'?’

'You have a suspicious mind, Marian.' I replied tartly. 'Mind

you, I did have a pass made at me by a married man this morning.'

'Really? How very unpleasant for you.' Marian said with

distaste, the twinkle disappearing completely. 'I trust you told him

where he could stick his suggestion.'

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'You bet!' I replied with vigour. 'It made me very angry but

coffee with Jane Hammond soon calmed me down. She’s a godsend,

that woman.'

‘Hmmm ... we’re very lucky in our vicar.' Marian replied, 'He's

been organising a team of volunteers to come round and talk to me -

I'd have gone crackers without that. It's not even as though I’m a

regular at church.'

‘He doesn’t seem to differentiate … he came round to see me as

soon as he heard that Matt and I were splitting up and has been

ringing me every now and then just to ask how things are going. It’s

nice to feel that it matters. By the way, Marian, I found out what

Charlie’s surname is – it’s Berring.’

‘Really.’ She said, her face lighting up. ‘How funny.’

‘Now, you’ve just got to explain, Marian.’ I said completely at

sea. ‘What’s this all about – do you know him?’

‘Hmmm … I knew Charlie Berring some years ago. Didn’t

know he’d come back to this neck of the woods.’ She said slowly,

her mind obviously somewhere else.

‘From what I heard, he’s never left the area.’ I commented, ‘I

got the impression that he’s been working at the school since the year

dot.’

‘He has … sort of …’ she said incomprehensibly.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Let me think,’ she said, pausing for a moment to get her

thoughts straight. ‘He started at Pennington House when he left

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university. He must have been there for about five years … that’s

when I got to know him. Charlie left the area then, taking a job over

in Essex … he met his wife over there. I didn’t know he had come

back here.’

She doesn’t say any more than that and, although it’s clear that

there is a lot more to the matter than she is letting on, I don’t like to

ask any more questions. Most curious …

It's pouring with rain on Thursday morning so, I take the easy

way out and, although it’s considerably further by road than on foot, I

drive up to Fred's farm with Pete's paperwork. Parking in the yard, I

dash across the concrete, splashing through a puddle which is

considerably deeper than I anticipated and consequently explode into

Pete's unit, swearing loudly.

'Nice to see you too, Maggie.' Pete grinned appreciatively,

'What's got your goat?'

'Water in my trainers and soggy jeans.' I replied with a grimace

as my feet register just how wet my socks are. 'That puddle was

deceptive.'

'I'd suggest you take them off and dry them by the fire but it's

not that warm in here.' Pete replied sympathetically as I explain about

the socks.

'It's all right, I'll survive.' I said, putting the papers down while I

take my coat off. Anticipating that it would be chilly here, I have a

warm sweatshirt on over my shirt. 'Good job I put the papers in a

plastic file, isn't it? So how is life in the horticultural world today?'

238

'Mucky.' he replied, holding up his hands which are covered in

compost. 'I'm potting up some bulbs. A couple of the offices like

seasonal displays if they can get them … these are dwarf, scented

narcissis.'

'I like the sound of that, spring seems a very long way away at

the moment.' I commented as the sound of the rain beating against the

window intensifies.

He has a large shallow container, half full of compost and is

placing bulbs in what will probably look like a haphazard

arrangement when they come up. As I watch, he fills in all the gaps

and starts topping the container up with compost. He then stows the

finished article in a corner of the room along with three other similar

containers.

'Coffee?' he offered, rinsing his hands under the tap

'Yes, please. Any post for my attention?'

'Yes, it's that heap over there.' he replied, gesticulating with a

teaspoon towards a pile of envelopes on one of the shelves. 'There's

quite a lot this week as I've been ordering stuff for Christmas. Part of

my remit is putting up Christmas trees in some of the offices and they

always like the latest style in decorations so I have to buy in new

every year.'

I look through the contents of the envelopes briefly, four

invoices for payment, a bank statement and some delivery notes. Pete

is very good checking off the deliveries against the notes but part of

my job is to check that the invoices match the delivery notes.

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There’s also a list of clients who need invoicing this week. Pete

staggers his invoices through the month, ensuring that the larger

organisations who invariably pay at the latest possible moment are all

invoiced at the beginning of the month and the smaller companies,

who tend to pay on demand as their cash flow works much the same

way as his, are invoiced throughout the month, thus ensuring he has a

fairly good chance of a certain amount of income in any one month.

I’ve rigged a spreadsheet which shows orders, deliveries and invoices

which makes tracking stuff possible.

‘I’ve been asked to quote for some new work.’ Pete said,

bringing my coffee over to where I am standing. ‘Any chance you

can create something that looks half-decent if I give you the

information?’

‘Don’t know about half-decent,’ I said grinning at him ‘I only

do high quality work, you understand.’

‘Oho! The lady gets bolshie!’ he laughed, ‘Apologies … but

you know what I mean.’

‘Let me have the information and I’ll put something together for

you. I could bring it up for your approval tomorrow night, if you

like.’

‘You’re definitely coming, then?’ he asked, his eyes smiling at

me over his mug.

‘If it’s still okay with you.’

‘Absolutely, I’ll get a bottle of wine in, shall I? It gets chilly up

here evenings.’

240

‘That would be very nice, but you don’t have to go to that much

trouble.’

‘No trouble, Maggie. ‘Now what do you need me to sign this

morning?’

241

Chapter 13

Thursday afternoon, just as I am in the middle of rolling pastry

for a pie and trying to keep my mind on what I am doing, the doorbell

rings. Cursing slightly, I go to answer it - Sam Dehaney is standing

there. Seeing my floury hands, he apologises for disturbing me.

'If it's inconvenient, Maggie, I'll come back another time.' he

said anxiously – he looks tired, poor man.

'No, no, it's fine. Come on in. As long as you don't mind me

finishing the pastry.'

He follows me into the kitchen, and I point him in the direction

of the coffee-making facilities while I finish the meat pie I am

making.

'Did you manage to get Fiona back okay?' I asked as he waits

for the kettle to boil.

'Yes, once she was in the car, she dozed off. Were the kids all

right?'

'A bit ruffled, but we went over to my parents' for lunch on

Sunday and that soon took their minds off it.' I said, going over to the

fridge to get some milk to glaze the pie. 'Do you want some milk in

your coffee?'

'No thanks,' he said, watching me pour a little milk into a cup

and then taking the container from me and putting it back in the fridge

for me. 'It went well at your parents' then?'

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'Very, so well, in fact, that Mickey and Duncan are going over

for the weekend to play with my Dad.' I said, smiling at him, 'Dad's

over the moon at having two boys instead of just the one. They’re

planning some serious carpentry, I gather.'

'Sounds very positive - Mickey will benefit from some adult

male company, I should think. The boy hasn't known much.' he

commented thoughtfully, sitting down at the table with his mug. ‘He

never knew his father.’

'Marian said something much the same.'

I’m concentrating on carrying the pie over to the oven – being a

large pie, it is a two-handed carry ... damn! I forgot to open the oven

door before I picked it up … but, even as I’m trying to juggle the

load, Sam leaps to his feet.

'Hang on, Maggie, I'll do that for you.'

'Thanks,' I said, putting the pie on the shelf in the oven and

closing the door on it. I glance at the clock ... yes, that should be done

before I go to pick the boys up from school, then I can warm it up for

dinner. 'Jenna’s going to stay with her Gran for a couple of nights at

the weekend as well.'

'Oh really? I didn't know that.' he said, sitting down again and

sipping his coffee, 'I bet Marian's pleased about that.'

'Yes, but Jenna's looking forward to it as well ... she's learned to

cook since she came here and is anxious to show off her new skills.' I

explained, rinsing my hands and getting myself a coffee. 'Any special

reason for you coming round today? Or is it just a routine visit?'

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'A bit of both really.' he said with a smile. 'I saw Marian earlier

and she mentioned the idea you've cooked up between you for her

going back to work. Are you happy with that?'

'Oh very, I was starting to realise how much we are going to

miss Jenna and Mickey when they go back to Marian ... especially

Duncan - he and Mickey have built up a really strong bond - and

Jenna and Mickey have become attached to us too, I think. This idea

would keep the link going. It’s funny, but I can hardly remember that

it was like only having one child now.'

'I can imagine. Would you consider taking any more full time

children, Maggie?' I look at him curiously, he sounds as though he as

a definite prospect in mind. 'I might. 'It depends what you are about

to offer me.'

He looks at me and laughs. 'No flies on you, Maggie.' he said,

'But you're right, I have got something particular in mind. It's a

similar sort of set up to Jenna and Mickey, the sole carer of the child

will be unable to look after the child for a period of about six to nine

months. The child's younger though - she's six.'

'Go on, tell me about it.

'The situation is this, Maggie,' he went on, 'Single mum in her

twenties, dad was a one-night stand from what I can gather. Despite

this, Mum has done a reasonable job of bringing up the child, who’s a

well-behaved little girl. Mum picked up a job working part time now

that the child is at school but, unfortunately, has just been charged

with stealing from her employers. Without being sentimental about it,

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I’d say that the employers were partly to blame, it was far too easy for

the woman to take the money - she's not the brightest of people and

made no effort to hide the fact she’d taken it – the temptation was just

too much for her, which is no excuse, I know, but ... well ... she

hasn’t spent most of it … bought a winter coat for the child.’ He

sighed and shook his head. ‘Anyway, it’s likely that when the case

comes to court, she’ll go down for some months.'

'When do they anticipate the case coming up?'

'In the New Year. She's now panicking because of the child. As

I said, she's done her best for the child and is worrying that the child

will end up being taken away from the village and that she’ll lose her.

There's no family for her to fall back on – she lost touch with them

years ago and isn’t from this area in the first place.'

'They live in the village then?’

'Yes, one of the council flats down past the school. Not sure if

she will be allowed to keep it yet - I'm hoping so. Do you think you

could help out? As I said, the child is a nice little girl, no nasty

tendencies that I know of - her mother is from a good background

though not terribly bright, as I said.'

'Yes, I think I could.' I said thoughtfully, 'I didn’t realise how

much of a difference it could make to a child before Jenna and

Mickey came here. I’m not saying that I have been a miracle worker

but just giving them a bit of ordinary life has helped them cope with

the situation. I’ve made a friend in Marian too … funny how it goes

like that. Does that always happen?’

245

‘Not always, it depends on the family. Some foster parents

don’t want to get involved, concentrating on the children … and then

again some of the children’s parents don’t want to have anything to

do with their kids which is why they are being looked after for a start

off.’

‘It must be a very worthwhile job.’

‘At times.’ He said with a sigh, looking wearier than ever, ‘But

other times it is sheer hell. My priority is the children – trying to get

the best outcome for them but it’s not always easy. Some parents see

their children more as fashion accessories than small people for whom

they have responsibility. You wouldn’t believe some of the situations

I see.’

‘No wonder you look tired.’ I replied struck by his

uncharacteristic lack of spirits ‘Have you had any lunch?’

‘No, I had to attend an emergency case conference.’ He

admitted, ‘Then I had to dash off to an appointment and never got

round to it.’

‘Can I get you a sandwich at least?’ I offered and he grins at

me.

‘Maggie, you spoil me! That would be wonderful. Are you

sure it’s not an inconvenience?’

‘Don’t be daft, Sam Dehaney!’ I replied, going over to the

fridge, ‘I’ve got some salad and cheese … and there’s a slice of ham

if you’d like it.’

246

‘Cheese and salad would be just right.’ He said gratefully, ‘Oh,

I am so tired! Sorry, I shouldn’t be landing this on you.’

‘Rubbish!’ I replied with a smile, ‘Forget the professional bit

for a while, pretend that you’re just a friend who’s come over for a

friendly chat.’ I slice the cheese and add it to the lettuce I’ve already

put onto the bread ‘Mayonnaise?’

‘Yes, please. You are very kind, Maggie.’

‘More coffee?’ I asked, carrying the plate of sandwiches over to

him and removing his mug to refill it. Without asking, I get down the

cake tin and cut a slice of Jenna’s latest effort – gingerbread. ‘Just

you get yourself outside that.’

‘Yes, Maggie.’ He said grinning, ‘I’d not dare refuse! You

remind me of my mother.’

‘Is that another way of saying I am being bossy?’ I asked

feigning affront.

‘Would I dare suggest as much?’ he replied grinning.

‘So, my friend, tell me about yourself.’ I invited, sitting down

opposite him watching him demolish the sandwiches hungrily. ‘Are

you a local?’

‘No, I’m a Londoner – born and bred in Hackney.’ He told me,

‘My family are still up there – I have two brothers.’

‘Where do you come in the family?’ I asked, guessing that he’s

the oldest … his reply confirms my guess was correct. ‘So what

brought you to this area?’

247

‘I went to Bristol uni for my degree.’ He said sipping his coffee

before starting on the gingerbread. ‘I grew up in an inner-city, built-

up area, so it was a considerable surprise to find that I have an affinity

with the countryside … I spent a good bit of my first year exploring.

I got to know the area pretty well and, after I qualified, when a job

came up in Bath, I leapt at it. I’d just got married at the time so it was

a chance to settle down. I’ve been here for nearly fifteen years now.’

‘Do you have any children?’ I asked, suddenly remembering

what Caroline said about his marriage.

‘No, my wife and I split up about six years ago … we never got

round to it. This job can be tough on a marriage, working all odd

hours, being on call ... it doesn’t make for a regular existence.’

‘So you live on your own and don’t bother with meals now?’

‘Something like that.’ He replied with a laugh,‘Though I’ll have

you know that I can cook for myself and generally manage regular

meals, Miss Bossy! This cake is delicious, by the way.’

‘It’s one of Jenna’s efforts.’ I explained, ‘I’ll get her to make

you one, shall I?’

‘I’d only get fat.’

‘I doubt very much you stand still long enough for that to be a

problem.’ I commented dryly, ‘Would you like anything else to eat?’

‘No, I’m fine – that was just right, any more and I’ll probably

doze off. I had a call out in the wee small hours earlier this week and

haven’t caught up with myself yet.’ He said rubbing his hands over

248

his face. ‘It doesn’t happen often, thank goodness. What about you –

did you grow up round here?’

‘Not exactly, though my family have farmed here for

generations. I grew up in Clevedon – my parents still live there. But

I was an only child. It must have been fun having brothers.’

‘Sometimes,’ he said gazing into the distance, ‘My recollections

centre round my mother telling me I should have known better

because I was the oldest one, but that may just be selective memory!’

‘Children do suffer from that.’ I said with a chuckle .

‘I’d better be moving on, Maggie.’ He said, stretching like a

cat. ‘Phew … an early night for me tonight, I think. Thanks again for

the food. I owe you a meal.’

‘That would be nice. And let me know about that child when

you have more information.’

‘Will do.’ He said rising and reaching for his coat, ‘I’ll give you

a ring sometime.’

As I wash up the baking bits and pieces, I think about Sam.

He’s a nice guy. It would be rather pleasant to have a meal with him.

And what about Glyn and Pete? A little voice in the back of my head

said … how many more men do you want? Laughing at myself, I

wipe the table down and check the pie isn’t burning.

Thursday evening all the kids are in a state of excitement,

packing their overnight bags for the coming weekend. Mickey has to

be persuaded that he really does need to pack a washing kit and

Duncan lets the side down by making a fuss about taking more than

249

one pair of socks. However, eventually they are ready. I’m going to

take them over to Clevedon immediately after school tomorrow so

should miss the rush hour both going and coming back, getting back

in time to take Jenna down to Marian’s. Jenna has a key anyway so

can let herself in and wait for me.

I tell her how much Sam Dehaney enjoyed her gingerbread and,

pre-empting me, she offers to bake one for him. I promise she can

sometime next week.

When Matt calls for his daily chat with Duncan, I hear my son

enthusing about the weekend … ‘Dad wants a word with you, Mum.’

He said coming into the kitchen where I am washing up the dinner

things with Mickey’s not very enthusiastic assistance.

‘Hi Matt. How are things?’ I asked, expecting a further

instalment in the ongoing sage of his relationship with Denny which

appears to be developing rather well.

‘Great. I was just wondering if you had given any thought to

Duncan coming up to visit.’

‘I think that it will have to be a week at Christmas, Matt. I’ve

found out that it only takes about an hour to fly up to the airport near

you and there’s no risk of him getting lost, if I hand him over this end

and you pick him up your end. What do you think?’

‘Sounds wonderful. I’m looking forward to seeing him.

Maggie, do you think it’d be appropriate for Mickey to come too?

Duncan and he seem to be almost like brothers and I don’t want to

break into that.’

250

‘It’s an idea, Matt. You’d probably find it easier having both of

them – they occupy themselves to a large extent – and Mickey is a

nicely behaved boy. I’d have to clear it with his grandmother though.

She might not like the idea of him being away.’ I replied slowly.

‘Shall I sound her out on it?’

‘Yes, do that. How about if we say the 27th

December

provisionally for a week? So you would have them for Christmas but

I’d have them for New Year.’

‘Yes, that would give you a chance to spend some time with

Duncan.’ I replied, wondering what I would do with a week without

the boys … and various ideas popping into my head. ‘I’ll have a chat

with Marian and see what she says. We’d have to pick up the tab for

the flights, Matt, Marian really doesn’t have much cash.’

‘Of course, that’s no problem.’ He said cheerfully. ‘Talking

about cash, how are you managing for money, Maggie?’

‘It’s going okay. The money I get for looking after the kids and

the accountancy work seems to be doing the trick. I had the social

worker round this afternoon asking if I would take another child when

Jenna and Mickey go back to Marian so it looks as though I have my

foot in the door there.‘

‘I have to take my hat off to you, Maggie, I’m ever so proud of

the way you are coping. Any boyfriends on the scene yet?’ Matt

asked

‘Not as such.’ I replied, going on to tell him about the mad trio.

251

‘Trust you!’ he commented when he has stopped laughing at

my description of the three of them in the pub after the film. ‘But,

joking apart, I’m really pleased you are getting out a bit, Maggie. I’d

hate to think of you sitting at home on your own. Do you see

anything of Jan or Caroline?’

‘I see Caroline fairly often – she’s been poorly with that bug

which knocked the boys out – but I’ve become persona non grata

with Jan … especially now.’

‘Why especially now?’ Matt asked, despite my best efforts to

skim over it, he worms out of me an account of the incident with

Dave. ‘The bastard!’ he said angrily ‘Just wait until I see that …

that …’

‘Matt!’ I said not knowing whether to be touched or to laugh,

‘Matt, it’s okay, I sent him off with a flea in his ear, don’t you worry.

It was just unpleasant.’

‘What are you doing with yourself this weekend with the kids

away?’

‘Oh, nothing much. I’m going over to see how artificial trees

are made tomorrow night … nothing much organised for Saturday …

but it will be nice just to have the time to myself.’ I said casually.

‘Artificial trees? What on earth are you talking about?’

‘One of my accountancy people is a commercial horticulturalist

and makes artificial trees which he puts in offices.’ I explained.

‘He’s got a unit up at Fred Plaister’s farm … in fact it was Fred

suggested I might take on his accounts.’

252

‘And does this mysterious ‘he’ have a name?’ asked the chap

who has known me since I was eight. ‘Maggie, you don’t kid me.

Tell me about him.’

‘His name’s Pete Tregarran and he’s thirty. As I said he runs his

own business.’

‘Maggie, I haven’t known you all these years without knowing

when you are up to something – is he attached?’

‘Not that I know of.’ I replied, feeling like a small child – Matt

always did come the big brother on me when we were younger.

‘Well, you just be careful, Maggie.’ Matt said, sounding like

my father.

I’m still laughing to myself when I put the phone down after ten

minutes of Matt reading me a lecture on looking after myself.

Honestly!

Friday drags.

I spend the morning working on Pete's accounts, preparing the

invoices to be sent out, processing the payments and making the

spreadsheets up to date. I’m quite pleased with the quote he has

asked me to prepare … even to my critical eyes, it looks professional.

After lunch, I walk down to the post office with the letters to be

posted and, it being a sunny day, decide to go for a walk to try and get

the fidgets out of my head. Climbing the hill behind the church

makes me breathless. I stop by the bench to recover, looking down

on the village below me much as Jenna and I did before. Here and

there, lines of washing wave in the breeze though I doubt they will

253

dry much, it is far too cold today. The landscape is all muddy

greenish brown … winter is well and truly with us and will be for the

next few months.

I trudge on, gloved hands stuffed comfortably into my pockets.

The holly along the footpath is covered in red berries … does

that signify a hard winter? I can’t remember. The old man’s beard is

still dangling its fluffy seeds and the ivy has sprays of hard black

berries.

The exercise is exhilarating … my face is burning slightly from

the chilly air but I am enjoying myself. It was nice of Glyn to ring

earlier in the week … he’s a nice guy … interesting. We had a long

talk about books … nice to meet a man who likes books. Pete likes

books too … he’s going to lend me that series he was talking about

the other day. Hmmm… Glyn might be interesting but it’s Pete who

makes my pulse race. Funny how Matt never did that – I was always

pleased to see him but this heady excitement I get whenever I

contemplate seeing Pete never happened with Matt.

Suddenly a vision of Sam springs into my mind … sitting at the

kitchen table munching on his sandwiches … I like him too. Now

what was it my mother always used to say? Oh yes, things always

come in threes … just like buses.

Laughing to myself, I head along the path at a good pace … I

shall have to be at the school in half an hour and have another mile or

two to go.

254

The boys bound out of school ahead of the rest of their class,

their enthusiasm to get on the road lending wings to their feet. I drive

them crackers by insisting that they wash their faces and get changed

out of their school uniforms, before loading up the car with their

overnight kit and sleeping bags. As I anticipated, the early start

means we get to Clevedon in good time and, although mum would

like me to stay for a cuppa, I insist on getting straight back thus

avoiding the rush hour traffic; I get back to the farmhouse ten minutes

after Jenna. She makes me a cup of coffee and insists on me sitting

down for a short while before I take her down to Marian’s house.

‘You’re a nag, Jenna!’ I exclaimed, thankfully collapsing into

the chair and accepting the mug she offers

She laughs … funny how fond I have become of this girl.

Much as I love Duncan, a daughter would have been nice.

It feels strange coming back to the empty farmhouse. It’s nearly

six, so I’ve got time to organise something to eat before I go up to the

unit. I’m going to walk up with my flashlight. Pete mentioned a

bottle of wine and I don’t want to have to worry about driving.

Anyway, unless it is raining, the footpath is a pleasant way to go and

it’ll be nice walking along in the dark with only the stars for

company. Should take me about fifteen minutes to walk up to the

farm … he said about seven thirty… so if I leave at about ten past that

would be about right.

I check my flashlight is fully charged – it is one of those

rechargeable goodness knows how many million candlepower efforts

255

but serves a double duty as a light and a cosh should I need it. Not

that I anticipate having to use it for that. Anyone hanging around on

the footpath waiting to ambush a pedestrian could wait several days

before seeing anyone ... especially this time of year.

Right, I’ve got the light, that quotation is safely in my pocket …

keys in my hand … warm scarf, gloves … hell, what’s that?

The phone …. I rush into the office and pick it up.

‘Vicky, is that you?’ a young girl said.

‘No, I’m afraid not. I think you must have the wrong number.’

‘So sorry.’ She said and rang off.

256

Chapter 14

Picking up my lamp, I leave the house, making sure the front

door’s firmly pulled shut behind me and start walking up the path. It

is a lovely clear night, the sky, unpolluted by street lamps, full of stars

… there’s Orien with the three stars in his belt …

The lamp comes in useful as I negotiate the occasional muddy

patch but, my boots virtually unclogged by mud and feeling decidedly

invigorated by my walk, I arrive safely at the unit, light from inside,

flooding out onto the yard through the windows.

‘Hi, Maggie.’ Pete said welcomingly, ‘Come on into the warm.’

Taking my coat off, I look around for somewhere to put it.

'There's a hook on the back of the door, Maggie.' Pete

suggested, 'How are things?'

I do as I am bidden … intrigued by what he’s doing ... as a

child I used to make plaster of Paris models so I recognise the white

gooey mess he is mixing up in a bucket ....what on earth is he going to

do with that?

'Fine, thanks. The good news is that Sam Dehaney, the social

worker, came round yesterday to ask if I would be up for another

child when Jenna and Mickey go back to their Gran.'

'And are you?' he asked, concentrating on pouring the white

goo into a large flowerpot and quickly sticking what look like two

four foot long branches from a tree into it. 'There. That should do

257

it.' he said in a satisfied tone, holding the branches for a moment

while the plaster sets enough to hold them in place.

'Yes, I think I shall. What are you doing, Pete?'

He explains that he’s making artificial weeping fig trees, waving

his hand at the two pots of branches in plaster which he obviously

made earlier as the plaster has set solid by the look of it, going on to

explain that are destined for a windowless waiting room in one of the

offices he has as a client.

'I’ve tried everything in there but nothing thrives in the artificial

light they have in the room, so I am giving up on live plants and

resorting to this.’

‘What sort of tree are these from?’ I asked inspecting the

branches more closely.

‘I use ash branches usually, they tend to be the right sort of

shape.' he replied, 'Once they are secure in the pots, I drill little holes

in them where I want the leaves to be, inserting these in the holes and

gluing them in place.'

He has a long cardboard box open on one of the shelves behind

him and gestures towards it; I go over to see what 'these' might be.

They are wire-coated plastic branches with silk leaves. He hands me

one ... they look very realistic and are bendy too, so he can tweak

them into the shape he wants.

'The secret is knowing where to put the holes so that the end

result looks natural.' He said picking up a small electric drill. 'This

will be a little noisy, I'm afraid, Maggie, but it won't take long.'

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I sit down on the stool and watch as he drills tiny holes in the

branches of one of his 'trees', standing back and looking at it through

narrowed eyes every now and then, as though judging the effect

which is going to be created.

'That should do it.' he said thoughtfully 'Now what about

opening that bottle of wine?'

He goes over to where he keeps the coffee-making things and

picks up a bottle of wine, wielding the bottle opener with a practised

hand and pouring the contents into two wine glasses.

'There you go, Maggie.' he said bringing one over to me. 'What

shall we drink to?'

'I don't know ....how about new friends.'

He grins at me and my stomach turns somersaults.

'Brilliant! I like that.' he said enthusiastically, raising his glass

'Here's to new friendships!'

The wine is good. I sip it as I watch him, glue gun in hand,

carefully insert the silk leaves into the holes he has just drilled then

gluing them in place, tweaking the branches as he goes to create the

effect he wants. It looks very easy but I have a feeling that it is like

all crafts which look simple when you are watching them being done

but which are downright impossible when you try them yourself. The

'tree' slowly takes shape under my eyes.

'How are you finding the single life, Maggie?' he asked, pausing

in his labours and picking up his glass of wine.

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'It's not that different from my married life, actually. The only

difference is that Matt isn't around. He rings to talk to Duncan every

day though and I still nags me like a big brother - he's always done

that.'

'How on earth did you get into such a marriage?' Pete asked,

picking up his glue gun again. 'If you don't mind me asking.'

'I don't mind, Pete. Matt and I grew up together, I met him

when I was about eight and we were in the same group of friends all

the way through childhood and teenage. We've always been close

friends and when the group started pairing up, we just drifted into

being a couple. It was a short step from there into marriage, but we

realised this year that we've never been more than good friends. This

job offer in the north crystallised things - nothing has changed

between us.'

'But surely there was more than that.' he protested, 'After all,

Duncan exists. Sorry, that sounds rude.'

'No, it's okay, Pete, I've been wondering about that myself ... I

suppose to some extent we thought it was expected of us ... though I

wouldn't call it passion ... I got pregnant fairly quickly and after

Duncan was born, we opted for separate rooms ... looking back I think

we were both rather relieved. I expect that sounds odd.' I faltered,

feeling rather foolish.

'No, just sad, Maggie.' he said, standing looking at me 'So,

you've never been in love.'

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'I suppose I haven't. That's rather pathetic at my age. Have

you?'

'Me? Yes ... several times …. at least that’s what I thought at

the time, though, with hindsight, if I take out the infatuations, I

suppose it comes down to twice.' he answered, getting on with his

sticking. 'Now the first time ... oh it must be about nine years ago

now ... just after I moved up to this area. I was besotted with her and

thought she was a goddess ... shows how young I was, I suppose.'

'What happened?' I asked, sipping my wine and wondering how

any woman could possibly have turned him down.

'We went out for about a year. As I said, I thought she was

wonderful ... then I ran into her draped all over another guy in a pub

one evening when she'd told me she was staying home with her

sister. It was a terrible shock and it didn't help that she laughed at me

for being so upset.'

'That was cruel!' I commented, much touched by this simple

story. I’ve never understood how women can be cruel to the men

they are going out with … I don’t go much for the kiss and tell idea

either … maybe I am just old fashioned or something.

‘In retrospect, I think I was probably just naive and blind to

reality. I believed what I wanted to believe.' he said thoughtfully,

'But it took me a long time to get over it. In fact, I have resisted

getting emotionally involved with any other woman until now.'

His words hit me like a sledgehammer and time suddenly slows

down as I reel under the blow. Hoping that it doesn't show, and

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grateful for the fact he has his back to me at the moment, I busy

myself drinking the last of my wine, desperately working to maintain

my composure.

'So you are involved with someone now?' I asked in what I

hope is a light-hearted tone of voice.

'Well ... not exactly.' he said looking embarrassed. 'It's more

that I've fallen for someone ...'

'Does she feel the same way?' I asked, the little voice in the

back of my head telling me in exquisite detail just what sort of an

idiot I am to think that he might look at me.

'I don't know.' he admitted, 'I doubt it.'

'So you haven't said anything to her?' I said surprised, 'Why

not?'

'We're good friends and I don't want to lose that.' he said, his

voice reflecting his deep concern. 'Anyway, she's not indicated in any

way that she might be interested in more than friendship.'

'But how could she? She probably thinks you’re not interested

in her.'

'Hmmm ... I'd not thought of that. Bit of a stalemate.'

'You ought to let her know how you feel, or at least give her an

idea that you'd like to move things up a notch.'

How any woman could possibly not want this man, I just do not

know … I fight to maintain an unconcerned expression, split between

wanting to strangle this unknown woman and wanting to shut myself

away somewhere I can cry ... which is ridiculous.

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'I'll think about it.' he said, concentrating on his work again.

'But, I'm neglecting you, Maggie - help yourself to some more wine.'

'Thanks, do you want a top up?' I asked, grateful for something

to do.

Part of me is numb ... I hadn't realised just how much this man

had got under my skin ... You fool, Magdalena! So you have to go

and fall for a man who’s in love with someone else, I rage at myself,

as I calmly pour some more wine into my glass. I feel close to tears,

then my pride takes over and, with a smile, I carry the bottle over and

top up his glass. He need never know.

The next couple of hours are very strange. On the one hand, I’m

chatting to Pete, laughing and joking with him ... by tacit consent the

conversation turns to less emotional channels after this somewhat

intense talk ... and on the other, I am weeping inside, my heart aching

as I watch him ... the way his muscles move under his jumper ... the

quick smile which lights his eyes ... the way his hair falls across his

face and he unconsciously flicks it back again with a toss of his

head. He usually wears it tied back, but this evening it’s loose and

falling round his shoulders, waving slightly at the ends. We work our

way through the bottle of wine, the alcohol numbing the dull ache

inside me.

Once he has finished the trees, he parks himself on an upturned

box and we chat - it is very comfortable and friendly – a good second

best, I tell myself … ignoring the little voice which is saying that all I

ever seem to get is second best.

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'I suppose I ought to be making tracks.' I said, catching sight of

my watch and noticing that it is just after ten.

'I'll walk you down. And don't say you'll be all right, I am not

letting you walk around darkened country paths on your own at this

time of night.'

'Okay, I won't.' I said with a grin, reaching for my coat.

Automatically, I pat my pocket checking I've got my house

keys. Odd, they're not in the right hand one where I usually put

them. I check the other pockets, a cold feeling running down my

spine as I gradually come to the realisation that I don't have them.

'What's wrong?' Pete asked registering my distress.

'I haven't got my keys.' I replied, desperately thinking back to

when I left the house. ‘I had them in my hand with the flashlight just

before I left the house ... then the phone rang ... shit! I put them down

on the table and didn't pick them up again!'

'Don't look so devastated, Maggie, it's not the end of the world.'

Pete said comfortingly. 'Do you keep a spare set outside the house

anywhere?'

'No, I've not thought about that ... I've never needed to.' I

wailed, truly shaken, 'And the house is all locked up. Oh, whatever

am I going to do?'

'Hey, stop panicking!' he said, taking me by the shoulders 'I'm

here, remember? We'll sort it out.' He stands thinking for a moment.

'Are you sure the house is secure?'

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'Yes, I made sure I closed the front door properly and checked it

as I left.' I replied bitterly.

'In that case, there's no point going down there tonight, we can't

do anything in the dark. You'd better come back to my place and

we'll sort it out in the morning.' he said firmly.

'I can't do that.' I protested, allowing him to usher me out of the

unit and watching as he carefully locks the door.

'Why not?' he said standing in front of me.

The moonlight is bright and I can see his face clearly, my

stomach turning flip flops at his closeness.

'Well, why not? …. Can't come up with a reason? No, I

thought not. Come on, Maggie.'

'But....' I said feebly, as he unlocks the van and holds the

passenger door open for me.

'But nothing. We can't do anything about it tonight in the dark,

Maggie. In daylight we'll be able to do something.'

Helplessly, I get into the van and put on the seatbelt. His flat is

a couple of miles away, in what used to be a grand Georgian

mansion. He parks on the road outside; I follow him down the

uneven steps to his basement flat, grateful for the flashlight I have in

my hand.

'You can have the bed,' he said, ‘I'll take the sofa.'

'There's no need for that, I can't throw you out of your bed!'

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'You're not. I'm volunteering.' he replied with a smile 'Stop

being so hard on yourself, Maggie, it could happen to anyone. You'd

better let me have a spare set of keys to look after for you after this.'

'Thanks, Pete. I'm sorry to be such a nuisance ... I'm not

ungrateful, honest.'

'I know. How about a hot drink? I'll show you where

everything is and you can make some coffee while I dig out my

sleeping bag.'

His flat’s larger than I thought - obviously converted from the

kitchen and working parts of the mansion when it was a family

residence. There is a tiny entrance hallway leading into a large

lounge which does service as a dining room too, judging by the table

under the window. The kitchen is a tiny cubbyhole off one corner of

the lounge - just about big enough to get one person in.

Unsurprisingly - because I am realising that Pete is one very

organised man - it is efficiently laid out and scrupulously clean and

tidy. There is a corridor off the lounge opposite the kitchen leading to

the bathroom, the bedroom door being halfway between the lounge

and the bathroom. There is an air of tidiness about the whole flat

although it has a definite lived-in feel to it, with a book lying open on

the sofa and a heap of clean washing in a basket by the bedroom

door. By the time the kettle has boiled, Pete has piled up a

substantial-looking sleeping bag and a couple of pillows on the sofa.

'I thought I had a new toothbrush somewhere.' he commented in

a pleased tone of voice, waving a plastic wrapped package at me.

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'Can't have you going to bed with dirty gnashers, can we? And I've

dug out an old t-shirt which you can use as a nightie - it's not very

glamorous but I daresay it will do. This flat is not very warm, I'm

afraid.'

'You idiot!' I laughed, handing him a steaming mug. 'This is

very kind of you.'

'It's what friends are for, isn't it?' he said warmly. ‘You’re in

luck, I changed the bedding this morning.’

It is very strange lying in Pete's bed staring at what I can see of

the ceiling by the light filtering in through the curtains. Now I am on

my own, disappointment floods through me and I find tears

threatening ... which is absurd. How could I have developed such a

crush on the man after such a short time ... and you felt you had

missed out by not having been in love before ... well, you're not

enjoying it much now, are you?

I daresay I shall survive.

Funny ... if this were a film, we'd probably have had a moment

of mutual realisation standing in the lounge together and ended up in

a passionate clinch ... instead of which, here I am lying alone in his

bed and he's on the sofa.

Laughing to myself a little bitterly at the absurdity of the whole

situation, I turn over, snuggle down and go to sleep.

The sound of a loo flushing wakes me … where am I? … oh …

oh, yes …the events of last night flood back into my mind. I'd better

get up. I wonder what the time is ... a quick squint at my watch, tells

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me that it is just after seven, which explains the dim dawn light

coming through the curtains.

There is a knock at the door: 'Come in.' I said quickly sitting up

and pulling the duvet up as Pete comes in, dressed in his jeans and

jumper, carrying a mug of coffee for me.

'Good morning. Did you sleep all right?' he asked, sitting down

on the edge of the bed and handing me the coffee.

'Thanks. Yes, like a log - did you?' I asked, taking a slurp of

the coffee.

'Yes. That sofa is surprisingly comfortable. Maggie, I thought

it best if we get moving fairly early, we don't want to cause comment

arriving at your house or being seen to leave here together.'

'No, that's sensible.' I replied, ridiculously hurt that he wouldn't

want to be linked with me ... I daresay he’s worried that it might get

to the ears of the woman he loves. It is just after seven thirty by the

time we leave the flat; we don't see anyone I recognise on the way

back to my place.

‘What’s the plan of action?’ I asked as he drove through the

gates.

‘I was thinking that it might be better to try round the back – is

the back door likely to be locked?’ he asked and I thought for a

moment.

‘Yes, I remember locking it, but the key’s in the lock.’

‘Hmm .. you’ve got a cat flap, haven’t you? … I wonder …’

We stand looking at the six foot high, wooden side gate which is

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locked. ‘I reckon I could climb over that.’ He said giving it a shove

to see how sturdy it is.

‘Do you think it will take your weight?’

‘Are you suggesting I might be overweight.’ He said huffily,

but he’s laughing. ‘I think it will be all right, Maggie, but if I do fall

and break something you’ll have to call an ambulance – my mobile

phone is in the van.’

‘Oh, all right.’ I replied in a similar vein.

He braces himself, grabs the top of the gate and, hauling on his

arms, slowly raises himself to the top. Once he has got one leg over

the top of the gate, he turns to me and grins.

‘So far so good. Now into the unknown … farewell, fair lady

…’ he continued with an expansive gesture which nearly unbalances

him. ‘Whoops! Less of the melodrama, I think.’

He lets himself down the other side, calls out that he’s safely

down and I hear his footsteps disappear round the back of the house.

I wander round to the front of the house and stand in the porch. It is

chilly in the early morning air and I’ve not had any breakfast yet.

I don’t know how long I stand there but after what seems like a

long time, I hear footsteps crossing the hall and the front door opens

suddenly with a victorious ‘Ta-ra!’ from Pete.

‘Come on in, Maggie.’ He said; I quickly do as he says.

‘Thank you so much, Pete.’ I said gratefully, ‘How did you do

it ?’

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‘I nicked one of your bamboos off the veg patch and poked the

thin end through the key hole to knock the key out and then groped

through the cat flap to pick it up. Mind you, it wasn’t quite as easy as

that. The bloody thing fell very nearly out of reach and I had to go

through some considerable contortions to get it. You really shouldn’t

leave the key in the lock like that – anyone could break in.’

‘I suppose so.’ I sighed, ‘Can I offer you some breakfast to

make up for it? Or are you busy today?’

He stands thinking for a moment. ‘Breakfast would be very

nice, thanks, Maggie.’ He replied eventually and I wonder what

exactly he was thinking about.

‘I could do a full English, I think,’ I said, rooting through the

fridge. ‘Yes, I’ve even got some mushrooms.’

‘That sounds absolutely marvellous, Maggie.’ He grinned , ‘Can

I wash my hands somewhere?’ I direct him towards the downstairs

loo and start organising food. Happily humming to myself, I count

out some sausages and put them in the frying pan. ‘This is some

house you have here.’ Pete said, coming back into the kitchen. ‘How

old is it?’

‘Bits of it go back to the seventeenth century, I believe.’ I

answered as the sausages start sizzling. I know the current fashion is

for grilling things but I don’t think you can beat a good old fry up

occasionally – blow the calories! ‘The main hall and this section are

the oldest, with the first floor being added sometime in the eighteenth

century and the lounge and rooms above it by the middle Victorians.

270

At least that is what I have been told; I’m not sure how true that is.

Of course the bathrooms were installed a lot later. There’s still a

building out back which used to be the loo, though the plumbing was

removed by my uncle years ago.’

Pete dodges out into the hall, returning a few minutes later. ‘ I

see what you mean. That side of the house looks so much as though it

belongs, you have to look really hard to see the join.’

‘Are you interested in architecture, then?’ I asked as I turn the

bacon over and add the mushrooms to the frying pan.

‘Yes, it’s a bit of a hobby of mine.’ He said, wandering over to

where the fireplace used to be and studying the wall. ‘That and

archaeology.’

‘I’ll show you over the house after breakfast, if you like.’ I

offered. ‘You can see the roof timbers in the boys’ rooms. For some

reason, my uncle boxed them in in the other two bedrooms.’

‘Thanks, I’d like that. Anything I can do to help?’

‘You can lay the table if you like, the cutlery is in that drawer

over there.’ I replied, concentrating on cracking eggs into the pan

without breaking the yolks. The sausages and bacon are keeping

warm under the grill. ‘The coffee pot can go on the table – I’ve made

fresh coffee by way of celebration.’

‘Sounds heavenly.’ He said, putting knives and forks out for us.

‘Where are the cups and saucers kept?’

Five minutes later we are both sitting down at the table, tucking

into heaped plates. I hadn’t realised how hungry I was. Pete chats to

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me about his parents while we eat. It seems his mum has been ill … it

is obvious that Pete is worried about her, bemoaning the fact that he

can’t just drop everything and go down to see her.

'That was a wonderful meal, Maggie.’ He said, placing his knife

and fork tidily on the plate. ‘Definitely worth sleeping on the sofa for

– thank you.’

‘My pleasure – and thanks for coming to my rescue, Pete.’

‘What are you doing with the rest of the day, Maggie?' Pete

asked as we enjoy the last of the coffee.

'I don't know.' I replied, my spirits rising at the thought maybe

he might just suggest something. 'I've nothing planned.'

'Oh well, I expect you'll find something to occupy yourself.' he

said reassuringly 'Well, I'd better make tracks - work to do - people to

see. The work of the self-employed man is never done! Take care.'

After he's gone, I tear myself to shreds for being such a fool,

clattering the dishes in the sink in a temper as I wash them up. By the

time I've finished, I am exhausted, both emotionally and physically.

I stand in the middle of the kitchen and contemplate my options

... the kids are not back until tomorrow, so I have a full day to

myself. I could go out somewhere I suppose, but first I shall go and

have a shower and get myself changed. Standing under the shower

revelling in the hot water, I let my mind wander over my various

options. I could go shopping ... but I don't really need anything

particular ... though I really ought to start on the Christmas shopping

... I’ve got to get my head round that sometime soon. I could even go

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to Bristol and have a look round Broadmead ... thank goodness I did

the Christmas cards when I did … I don’t know where the time goes

to these days.

Pondering this, I dry myself, roughly towel my hair and, my

dressing gown firmly knotted round me against the chill, I sit down at

the dressing table and gaze at myself in the mirror. I was never a

beauty ... just don't have the bones for it, but my face is not unpleasant

... at least that is what I have always been told ... it's difficult judging

yourself. I look my age ... whatever that means.

Oh stop pandering to your self-pity, Magdalena!

I grin at myself and, feeling a little perkier, give some thought to

what I am going to wear.

I am just contemplating having a slice of toast for lunch ... that

breakfast was rather substantial and I am not really hungry ... when

the phone rings.

Putting down the bread, I rush into the office and pick it up.

'Hello?'

… it's Sam.

'Hi, Maggie, I was just wondering if you were busy today, only I

appear to have some free time and it crossed my mind that I could pay

my debt to you regarding that meal.' he said cheerfully.

'That would be very nice, Sam. What time do you suggest? I

was just trying to work out what I’m going to do for the rest of the

day - I'm not used to having time on my hands like this.'

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'Well, in that case, what about going out for some fresh air and

picking up a meal later on?' he said enthusiastically. ‘I was thinking

of going for a wander somewhere wild while the sun shines.’

'You're on! What time would suit you?'

'How about I pick you up at about one fifteen, only the daylight

won't last long. Can you manage that?'

'Yes, no problem. I'll see you then.'

Smiling at myself in the mirror, the thought of the Christmas

shopping flits into my mind and is speedily dismissed. If we are

going out walking, I shall need something warm ... but if we are going

out for a meal it also needs to be appropriate for that. It's looking like

trousers and a double layer of shirt and jumper again ... hardly

exciting but definitely practical.

While I change, I mull over what I know about Sam Dehaney.

Apart from the fact that his parents obviously originally came from

somewhere hot I don’t know anything about him … his surname

suggests possibly the West Indies … I wonder if they came over in

the fifties with that group of immigrants. He said he comes from

London … you’d never guess from his lack of accent, though there is

the odd cockney inflection every now and then come to think of it.

Not considered that before … we’re so accustomed to hearing accents

these days we don’t think twice about it.

I am ready and waiting by the time Sam gets here … I’ve even

fed Toby just in case I’m not home until late.

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As I hang around in the lounge watching for his car, I smile at

myself … talk about keen … Magdalena, you are making a complete

exhibition of yourself … just as well there’s no-one to see it.

As Sam parks outside the house, I pick up my keys …not going

to be caught that way twice … and my handbag, checking my gloves

are in there – it is far to chilly to go out without those. Sam is half out

of the car by the time I close the front door, and waits by the car as I

check the door is properly shut … also double-checking my keys are

in my bag. Pete took the spare set with him when he went, but

having to call on him for assistance again would be more

embarrassing than I could cope with.

‘Where are we going?’ I asked, getting into the passenger seat.

‘Ah, now that is a secret.’ He said with a grin, ‘See if you can

guess before we get there.’

I settle happily into the seat, put my seatbelt on and relax.

275

Chapter 15

It is gone one in the morning by the time I get to bed and even

then, I find it hard to sleep, going over and over the events of the day

in my head.

Leaving Bath on the A4, Sam had driven us a little way towards

Bristol then turned off down some country lanes I didn’t know,

ending up, nearly an hour later, parking in a layby apparently in the

middle of nowhere while I tried to get my bearings.

‘You’ve no idea where you are, have you?’ he had asked quite

accurately, a mischievous smile twitching his mouth.

It was a place I’d never seen before … and I thought myself

fairly well up on the local area. Leaving the car, we had climbed over

a stile and he’d explained how he had originally found this place

some years ago when he was looking for a good place to view the

Severn Bore. We’d walked across a grassy field where three horses

were grazing – they took little notice of us, just lifting their heads and

looking at us as we passed by, then getting back to the far more

important task of grazing – another stile through a hedgerow had

taken us into a wilder area where, some four or five feet from the

hedgerow, the land abruptly stopped, sloping steeply down to a

narrow shingle beach … and the sea lay sparkling before us. It was

beautiful … not a sign of civilisation in sight or hearing. Sam had

obviously been pleased by my delighted reaction, a little like a man

presenting a bouquet of flowers or a box of chocolates.

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After standing, gazing at the panorama for a while, he had

suggested that we should walk towards the low hill which rose to the

south and, following the faintly delineated path in the grass, we had

climbed its gentle slopes to the summit where we had found a rocky

outcrop to sit on. As the waves ebbed and flowed some ten feet

below us, we had, amongst other things, swopped life stories.

Sam had told me about his childhood in London. I was right,

his parents had come over in the fifties and settled in Hackney, a

down market area even in those days. Over the years, by dint of sheer

hard work and taking the odd risk, his father had established a small

grocery shop where Jed, the middle brother, still worked. Sam’s

mother, it appeared, had done much as I do, taken odd jobs to help

with the family finances, but being a housewife and mother more than

anything, ensuring that the boys were fed and clothed, despite their

efforts at tearing holes in their clothes at every opportunity.

I smile as I recall how he’d asked ‘And what about you,

Margaret?’

I got a little of my own back by putting him right on that one,

sparking a conversation about names … he’d loved my name, saying

it was very graceful and deploring the ‘Maggie’ by which I am

usually called. Slyly, he had then asked what I thought the Sam stood

for. My obvious response of Samuel had raised a smile and the

comment that I should try again …. I’d had to think for some time

before I could come up with anything else which it could be short for

and in the end he’d had to tell me – Samson. My rather tactless

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astonished response, though clearly not a surprise to him, had led into

a long story as to why his mother had called him that … she had

wanted something from the Bible and wanted to bestow strength on

her firstborn son. Considering that life was very hard for her and her

husband at the time, not least because of the prejudice they faced, I

am not surprised. The other two boys also have Biblical names –

Jedekiah and Benjamin – though none of the three ever use their full

names if they can avoid it.

I had teased him slightly about his short hair meaning that he

had no strength which had landed me in deep trouble as he

demonstrated very effectively just how strong he was ... holding me

down with one hand and tickling me with the other until I had

frantically retracted my words, by which time we had both been

laughing our heads off.

When I’d asked him why he’d become a social worker, he’d

thought for several minutes, gazing out to sea before answering. His

answer, when it came, had surprised me a little.

‘It was a way of possibly ensuring that other kids didn’t end up

like my brother Ben.’ He had said eventually, his face very serious

and sad. ‘Ben’s the youngest of the three of us. He’s serving a prison

sentence for armed robbery at the moment. It nearly broke my

parents’ hearts when he went off the rails and got in with the wrong

crowd. It all started when Mum was taken into hospital for an

appendicitis operation. Dad had to keep running the shop and there

was no-one to keep an eye on Ben. He was fourteen at the time – I

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was seventeen and working for my A’levels when I wasn’t working in

the shop, and Jed was working full time in the shop, having left

school at sixteen. There was no-one to look after Ben, we’d no family

here and we were the only black family in the area so had few friends.

As I said, Ben got in with the wrong crowd … got into drugs. All it

would have taken was for a foster family to take him in for the few

months Mum was out of the running – in those days, they kept you in

hospital for a lot longer than they do now and there were

complications of some sort. I’ve never forgiven myself for not doing

something at the time …. anyway, when it came to choosing a

career, I opted for social work in the hope that I might actually

prevent another kid going down the same road. It makes me sound

like a prissy do-gooder, I know that … you’re allowed to laugh,

Maggie.’

I hadn’t laughed though.

He had gone on to tell me about some of the cases he has had on

his hands, the successes and the failures which he feels so very much

- few though they seemed to be.

When it got too cold to sit there any longer, we’d walked along

the edge of the land. At one point we had stopped to look across the

sea to Wales and, standing behind me, he had pointed out what it was

I was looking at and, somehow, we’d walked along hand in hand after

that.

It was dark by the time we’d got back to the car … walking

across the field in the growing dusk had been hilarious, with us trying

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to find the stile and not fall over tussocks of grass. It had been a

minor miracle that neither of us stepped into something nasty but we

managed to avoid that somehow.

Sam had driven us to a pub somewhere … I don’t know where it

was. He’d obviously been there before though, assuring me that they

didn’t mind the odd pair of muddy boots when I had bewailed my

inappropriate footwear for going out for dinner, though we’d made a

point of chipping off the worst of the mud before we went into the

pub.

The place had a roaring open fire and, although it served

excellent food, it was not crowded so we were able to sit and talk

while we ate. We hadn’t left there until closing time. As the night

before, the sky was clear when we came out of the pub and the stars

were twinkling brightly. We had stood in the car park for several

minutes, competing for who could name the various constellations

sparkling above us … he’d had to concede that I knew more than he

did!

Walking across the car park to the car, I had caught my foot and

tripped … there was a bit of uneven tarmac or something … Sam had

caught me, his reactions fast, and we’d stood there just staring at each

other by the light of the moon, until a group of people coming out of

the pub, brought us to our senses.

When we got back to the farmhouse, I’d invited him in and we’d

sat in the kitchen over coffee for ages, still talking … though I can’t

remember now what we’d talked about. It had been gone twelve

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thirty by the time he had reluctantly decided that it was time he went.

We’d both been quite awkward standing by the front door going

through the conventional ‘thank you for a lovely time’ exchange.

I don’t know if it was a result of all the alcohol I’d drunk during

the evening or if it was the look in his eyes, but I’d reached up and

gently kissed him on the cheek.

Lying here in bed, I recall how his arm had snaked round me as

he had pulled me towards him and kissed me properly… I don’t know

how long we stood there like that … it could have been years for all I

cared … but in the end he had let me go and, assuring me that he

would ring me soon, he went.

Still smiling, I turn over and snuggle down to sleep, the

remembered warmth of his body close to mine making me tingle.

I wake feeling happy and for a moment I can’t remember why

… then the memory of yesterday floods back … a glance at the clock

tells me I’ve slept late … it’s nearly ten, almost as though underlining

this fact, Toby pushes the bedroom door open and jumps onto the bed,

miaouing loudly. Poor cat! He not only spent Friday night on his

own but didn’t get much to eat yesterday either.

‘All right, all right! I’ve got the message … I’m getting up.’ I

said, throwing back the bedclothes and quickly grabbing my dressing

gown.

The mugs we used last night are still standing on the table, the

sight giving me a very warm glow as I get the cat food out of the box

and empty the sachet into Toby’s bowl.

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‘Magdalena, you are an idiot!’ I told myself gathering up the

evidence of last night and putting the mugs in the washing up bowl.

‘For heaven’s sake, first you get into a tizz about Pete and now the

sight of two empty mugs on the table has you going doolally!’

While I drink my coffee, I try to concentrate on what I have to

do today. I’m going down to Marian’s for lunch then bringing Jenna

back here; Dad’s bringing the boys back at about three. I’d better get

moving.

Jenna opens the door to me – she looks very pleased to see me

and welcomes me into the house, explaining that Marian is in the

lounge.

‘We’ve had a lovely time, Aunt Maggie.’ She said as she waits

for me to take off my coat. ‘Gran dug out albums of photos of mum

as a little girl and of me and Mickey when we small. I’ve never seen

those before.’

‘That’s nice, Jenna. I’m pleased you’ve enjoyed yourself. How

was the cooking?’ Jenna had been planning menus all week, asking

my opinion of what would work well together and, although Marian

was footing the bill for the food, Jenna had been in charge in the

kitchen for the weekend.

‘Great.’ She replied, her satisfied grin saying it all, ‘My pastry

wasn’t as good as yours, but Gran said that it was quite edible; I

expect it will get better with practice.’

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‘I said nothing of the sort!’ Marian called from the lounge, ‘I

said it was very tasty – you were the one who was saying it wasn’t as

good as Maggie’s! Come in, Maggie.’

Marian is sitting in her usual chair, a heavy photograph album

on her lap.

‘Excuse me not getting up, this thing weighs a ton.’ She

explained as Jenna rushes off to the kitchen muttering something

about gravy.

‘No problem, Marian. You’ve had a pleasant weekend then?’ I

said, taking a chair and making myself comfortable.

‘Very pleasant – Jenna is a very capable cook. That’s entirely

down to you, Maggie – well done.’

‘I had an apt pupil. Jenna’s very practical – she takes after you

in some ways.’

‘Do you think so?’

‘Hmmm … you cope efficiently without complaining and she

does the same, she’s an intelligent girl too.’ I commented, enjoying

her obvious astonishment. ‘She wants to be a writer, has she told you

about that?’

‘Yes, she mentioned it on Saturday … Maggie, I feel I’ve really

got to know Jenna as a person properly this weekend … though it

makes me very ashamed that it has taken this long. I’ve always

thought of her as a child and she is growing up fast. I shall miss her

when she goes back with you … and not just because of her cooking

skills!’

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‘Well, I don’t see why we shouldn’t repeat this, do you?

Mickey’s content being with Duncan and Jenna is clearly happy to be

here with you.’

‘That sounds extremely attractive.’ Marian replied, delighted at

the thought. ‘I’ll have a think about how we can go about it. But

enough of me, how was your tree building session?’

Blushing slightly, I relate the events of Friday night … how I

had managed to lock myself out. ‘Oh Marian, I could have died!’

‘Whatever did you do?’

‘Pete took me back to his place and insisted I had his bed for the

night; he slept on the sofa in his lounge. He managed to climb over

the fence and get the back door open once it was daylight.’

‘What, really on the sofa?’

‘Yes, really on the sofa.’ I replied wishing I had not been quite

so public about my aspirations where Pete was concerned.

‘So what happened then?’

‘I cooked breakfast for us and he went off.’ I said, feeling again

for a moment the awful disappointment I had experienced then, but it

passes very quickly as the remembrance of the afternoon popped into

my mind.

‘That’s not all, Maggie, something’s put a smile on your face.’

Marian laughed, ‘Come on, what happened then? Did he come back

later?’

‘No, I haven’t seen him since.’ I said demurely – she snorts in

disbelief. ‘Honest, Marian, I haven’t.’

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‘So what’s made you look like a cat that’s got the cream?’ she

demanded, smiling ‘What’s his name … the teacher … he didn’t turn

up did he?’

‘Who? Glyn? Oh no.’ I replied teasing her, ‘But I did spend

the rest of the day with a very nice man.’

‘Oh?’ she said half laughing, ‘Stop being so annoying, Maggie

– who was it?’

‘Sam Dehaney.’ I replied, satisfied with the stunned look this

elicits from her.

‘And just how did that come to pass?’

I explain how Sam had appeared the other day and how I had

fed him some sandwiches and how that had led to him offering to feed

me sometime. ‘And he rang on Saturday.’ I finished.

‘So did you go out for a meal with him?’

‘Yes, after we’d spent the afternoon wandering around the

countryside.’

‘Well, I’d never have guessed that.’ Marian said, as Jenna

comes in to tell us that dinner is ready.

I take the album off Marian’s lap and put it on the side table,

and with Marian still making surprised comments, we follow Jenna

into the dining room.

Jenna has pushed out the boat making the table look really nice,

Marian compliments her on it, putting a delighted smile on the girl’s

face. Although Marian doesn’t say anything else about Sam, it is

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obvious that she is thinking about what I have told her, giving me

funny little looks every now and then.

‘Aunt Maggie, did Gran tell you about the phone call she had

yesterday?’ Jenna asked halfway through the meal, a smile touching

her lips.

‘No. What was that?’ I asked, looking at Marian curiously –

she’s the one looking conscious now.

‘Well, you know that teacher you told us you met up with –

Charlie something?’ Jenna went on, ‘He rang up.’

‘Oh really?’ I said archly, turning to Marian with an ill-

suppressed grin on my face

‘Yes, he said you had mentioned my name to Glyn when you

spoke to him earlier this week and thought he’d give me a ring just to

say hello.’ She said going slightly pink.

He must have looked her up in the phone book – now that shows

keenness!

‘He’s going to come over for tea one day next week.’ Marion

finished.

‘Oh how lovely!’ I commented, with an innocent, wide-eyed

look, ‘He’s a very nice man.’

‘You are a vindictive woman, Maggie!’ Marian declared

laughing despite herself.

Jenna looks from one to the other clearly puzzled by our

behaviour.

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As I drive Jenna home after lunch, I compliment her on her

cooking and tell her how impressed Marian was by the meals all

weekend.

‘I enjoyed it, Aunt Maggie, though it was a bit scary at first.’

She said, ‘I like cooking … I wonder if I could do something like that

for a living when I’m older.’

‘It’s a thought, Jenna, you could certainly look into it – if you

want to write books, you might find having a catering job of some

sort would keep body and soul together until you have something the

publishers want.’ I replied

‘Hmmm … I’ll have a look in the careers room when I get to

school. Did you have a nice time all on your own?’

‘I had a lovely time, Jenna, though I wouldn’t want to be

without you lot all the time.’ I answered watching the traffic, waiting

as a car turns out of the road I want to go down.

Dad materialises just before three, the boys bounding excitedly

out of the car and rushing over to tell me all about their weekend.

Once they have run down a little, I send them upstairs with

instructions to put their dirty washing in the laundry basket … though

I have grave doubts that this will be done.

‘Cup of tea, Dad?’

‘I’ll have a look at that shed door of yours first, Maggie. The

daylight won’t last much longer.’

We go out to the shed and I show Dad what the problem is with

the door, leaving him to sort it out and going into the kitchen to put

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the kettle on. It’s chilly out there now that the sun has gone over. We

were very lucky with the weather yesterday … it would have been

about this time that we were sitting on that rock looking at the sea. I

wonder how he is today… he said he would phone soon …

‘All done.’ Dad declared in a satisfactory tone of voice, shaking

me out of my reverie. ‘That veg patch of yours looks very tidy,

Maggie. Your grandfather would have been proud of you.’

‘Thanks.’ I said, gratified by his comment. ‘You can wash your

hands here if you like, Dad. The tea won’t be a moment.’

‘So what did you do with your weekend then, Maggie?’ he

asked, a few minutes later, sipping his tea.

‘I went up to see a friend of mine making artificial trees on

Friday evening and went out with another friend of mine on Saturday

afternoon.’ I replied, deciding not to mention that I managed to lock

myself out of the house – no point worrying him.

‘And which of these friends has put a spring into your step?’ he

asked, seeing far too much as usual.

‘Oh? Is there a spring in my step?’ I asked hoping to get away

with it.

‘Don’t try that innocent look with me, my girl.’ He said

laughing, ‘It never worked when you were small either. Come on,

spill the beans,’

Laughing with him, I tell him about Sam. Something flashes

across his face when I mention Sam’s origins but he doesn’t say

anything.

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‘I don’t know where it was that he took me, Dad, I’ve not been

there before, but it was really lovely. Right off the beaten track and

very peaceful.’

‘Hmm … out Portishead way, you say?’ Dad said, frowning a

little. ‘I’ll have to think about that. Nothing springs to mind, though

there are lots of little places along that coast which are fairly

inaccessible. Sounds like a good sort of man.’

‘He is.’ I replied, hoping that Sam’s origins are not going to

cause problems with my parents. They’ve never been racially

prejudiced as far as I am aware, but there is a big difference between

having friends who are of a different culture and having your daughter

going out with one of them.

‘Must work very anti-social hours in that job.’ Dad observed

thoughtfully ‘they’re on call most of the time, aren’t they?’

‘Yes, you have to be pretty dedicated to do it properly.’

‘Well, you’ll have to bring him over sometime. Is it okay for

me to tell your mother about him?’

‘Yes, of course. But we’ve only been out the once, Dad.’

‘Hmm ... that’s as may be, but you talk about him as though he’s

going to be around for a fair while, Maggie.’

I have no answer to that … oh crikey … talk about out of the

frying pan! I hope I’m not just being silly again.

‘Were the boys good?’ I asked changing the subject.

Dad’s face lights up as he tells me how much he and Mum

enjoyed having them. ‘We got a lot done on the jigsaw project,

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Maggie. Though we’ll have to have another session to finish it all off.

That Mickey was a very quick learner – seemed to like working with

wood. Duncan plays at it but Mickey wanted to understand the how

and why, if you know what I mean.’

‘That’s interesting, Dad, I’ll mention that to his grandmother.

Oh, no, I’d better not until after Christmas – that would let the cat out

of the bag, wouldn’t it?’

‘It would rather, but there’s no rush. Let me know when they

can come over again – it would have to be a Sunday ... maybe they

could come over one Saturday evening after the office has closed and

stay the night.’ He said consideringly, ‘Yes, that might work. Well,

let me know, Maggie. I’d better be making tracks.’

I call the boys down to say goodbye and am impressed by

Mickey’s sincere thanks for the weekend – he has nice manners when

he remembers to use them. Despite their various adventures over the

weekend, the kids appear to be pleased that they are home now.

Supper is animated with them all swopping stories about their

weekends.

‘What did you do with yourself, Mum?’ Duncan asked.

‘Oh this and that.’ I replied cagily. ‘It was nice having the time

to myself but, all the same, I’m glad to have you all home now.’

After the meal, I send them upstairs to prepare their school bags

and generally calm down. The phone rings and my pulse racing

slightly, I rush to pick it up.

‘Hi, Maggie.’ Matt said.

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… oh well,

‘How are things? Is Duncan back from your parents’ yet?’

‘Hello, Matt. Yes, he’s here – shall I get him?’

‘In a moment – how was your gardening friend?’ he asked and

yet again I kick myself for having mentioned Pete to people.

‘Oh, it was very interesting watching him build the trees, Matt.

He’s good company.’ I replied casually, ‘We split a bottle of wine

and chatted – it was very pleasant.’

‘Only pleasant, eh? But you don’t seem too bothered, at any

rate.’

‘No, I’m not.’ I replied hoping he would drop the subject.

‘Shall I get Duncan?’

While Duncan chats to his father about his weekend, I sit at the

kitchen table trying to work out what is going on in my head.

I am in a whirl about Sam, that much is clear; but I’m also

confused as far as Pete goes. It still stings that he’s not available …

can I care about two men at the same time? Am I just infatuated with

them both? Is it just that I develop a crush on any man I meet who is

not actually married? That would be horrible.

But I don’t feel like that about Glyn and he’s definitely available

… oh, things were a lot simpler before! ‘But not nearly so

interesting.’ I remind myself.

It’s quiet in the house once the kids have gone to bed but

differently so from when it was just me here. Odd that it should make

a difference. Toby accompanied Jenna upstairs, making a big fuss of

291

her – he prefers a houseful of people at any rate. I make myself a cup

of coffee and settle down at the kitchen table with the general

knowledge crossword from the newspaper. I try to do it every

weekend … with mixed success most of the time. What the

compilers consider general knowledge certainly surprises me at times.

I’m just trying to remember what the capital of the country that used

to be Rhodesia is called when the phone rings … still half

concentrating on the puzzle, I wander into the office and pick up the

receiver.

‘Evening, Magdalena – the brood all reinstated?’ Sam’s voice

asked, driving all thought of capital cities out of my head instantly.

‘Yes, they’ve had a lovely time but are all tucked up in bed

now.’ I replied inanely, ‘I’m just struggling with the general

knowledge crossword from yesterday’s paper.’

‘Sounds very demanding.’ I can hear the laugh in his voice and

smile in response. ‘But I’m ringing to say how much I enjoyed

yesterday.’

‘So did I. I’m still trying to work out where exactly you took

me.’

‘I’ll show you on a map sometime, Maggie.’ He said and I can

hear that he’s grinning. ‘Can we do something similar another time,

perhaps?’

‘I’d love to, Sam. But I hope you’ll pop in anytime you are

passing – I know how difficult it is for you to get any time off. I’m

here most of the time.’

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‘I’d like that - can you give me your mobile number, Maggie, I

don’t know when I’ll next be able to see you and at least that way I

can keep in touch.’

I give him the number and ask him for his. I don’t want him to

ring off but I can’t think of anything to say and after muttering

inanities for several minutes on both sides, we hang up.

Normality hits me hard Monday morning, Duncan’s having one

of his rare sullen fits and drives me to distraction over breakfast –

doubtless the result of a weekend of grandmotherly spoiling. But

whatever the cause, I am more than happy to leave him and Mickey at

the school gates.

‘You look pretty pissed off, Maggie.’ Caroline commented

coming across the playground to where I am standing by the school

gate.

‘Oh, it’s only Duncan having one of those days.’ I replied with

a sigh ‘Kids are a pain at times!’

‘Come and have coffee with me, Maggie. I want to hear about

your weekend. How was your evening with the horticultural

specialist?’

As we walk back to Caroline’s house together, I tell her about

the evening … how I’d got myself all psyched up and how he’d

completely demolished my hopes, relating the saga of the forgotten

keys and everything.

‘Bloody hell, Maggie. That’s some story’ she commented as

we go into her house. ‘Take your coat off … coffee?’

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‘Thanks, that would be nice.’ I replied as my mobile phone

sounds out the arrival of a text message. Following Caroline into her

kitchen, I quickly read the message.

Shall be in your vicinity lunchtime – may I call? S

Smiling, I key in a reply

Of course, sandwiches off the menu – soup do? M

I look up to find Caroline watching me with curiosity all over her face

… I realise that I am grinning like a maniac and probably looking

pleased as well. Damn!

My mobile registering another text message a few minutes later

doesn’t help either.

‘Well, you’d better see what he wants, hadn’t you?’ Caroline

said wryly, pouring boiling water into mugs. I sneak a look.

Wonderful, see you later. S

We carry our coffee into the lounge and sit down.

‘So spill the beans, Maggie – who was that? I assume it wasn’t

the gardener.’ Caroline demanded avidly.

‘No, it wasn’t Pete.’ I replied, sipping my coffee

‘Maggie!’

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‘If you want to know, it was Sam Dehaney.’ I replied, enjoying

her incredulous expression.

‘Maggie Jones! You are having me on!’ I shake my head,

unable to resist grinning at her. ‘Do you mean to tell me you have

pulled the unattainable Mr Dehaney?’

‘Oh … is he unattainable? I didn’t realise that.’

‘Is he heck! I know several people who’ve tried to get off with

him and he hasn’t even noticed them.’ She replied emphatically. ‘He

hasn’t looked at a woman since his wife left him and that was years

ago.’

I can’t resist smiling at that … it’s not as though I deliberately

went out of my way to attract him. The thought of succeeding where

all those women have failed certainly boosts my ego.

‘Maggie, stop sitting there looking so disgustingly smug and tell

me all about it.’ Caroline demanded.

‘There’s not a lot to tell,’ I protested, ‘He came round to see me

the other day – he was tired and hadn’t had any lunch so I made him

some sandwiches and we got chatting … as you do. As a result, he

said he owed me a meal … anyhow, he rang me on Saturday and

when I said I wasn’t doing anything, he suggested we went for a walk

and then had a meal somewhere. That’s what we did.’

‘Oh yeah!’ Caroline said sceptically ‘And just how much time

did this innocent little outing cover?’

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‘Well, he picked me up just after one in the afternoon and

finally went home just before one in the morning. He came in for

coffee after we got back from the pub … we talked a lot.’

‘Maggie, Maggie, you never cease to amaze me!’ Caroline

spluttered, laughing ‘Sam Dehaney must be the most eligible guy in

the entire social services for this area … and you land him by giving

him sandwiches … I bet you nagged him while he ate them too.’

‘A little.’ I confessed, ‘He’s coming for lunch today as well –

that’s what the text message was about.’

It’s several minutes before Caroline recovers from the coughing

fit which follows my comment … she was drinking her coffee when I

made it.

‘Are you all right, Caroline?’

‘Yes, it just went down the wrong way. How serious is this,

Maggie?’

‘Oh heavens, Caroline, we’ve only had one date … if you can

call it that.’ I cried. ‘I don’t know. We get on … I like his company

… he seems to like mine.’

‘Sorry, Maggie, that was a stupid question. Anyway, it’s no

business of mine.’ She apologised, ‘I won’t mention it to anyone,

Maggie, I promise you. He’ll have to give some thought to

professional ethics though – he can’t have you on his caseload if he’s

dating you.’

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‘I hadn’t thought of that. But I see what you mean. He came

round the other day to ask if I would take another child when Jenna

and Mickey go back to their Gran.’

‘Great. That’s just what you need, Maggie.’ Caroline said.

‘What are you giving him for lunch?’

‘Soup … there’s not much in the sandwich filling line in the

house at the moment. He said that would be okay.’ I replied, rather

enjoying her reaction to the situation. ‘Which reminds me, I’d better

get home and start making it.’

‘Homemade soup? You’ll have him proposing next.’ She said

dryly. ‘Oh boy, there will be some very jealous women when this

gets out.’

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Chapter 16

I’m still chuckling to myself about this when I get home and

start chopping up vegetables to make soup. Fortunately, I keep a

pretty good supply of veg in the house at any time. Once they are

cooked, I liquidise most of it, leaving a few spoonfuls to put in the

resultant puree to make it more interesting.

Yes, that’ll do.

I pour the result into the saucepan – I can warm it up when he

gets here … then I dig in the freezer … I know there’s a couple of

frozen, half-baked, baguettes somewhere … there they are … I’ll

bake them to have with the soup.

I wonder what time he meant by lunchtime … it could be

anything from twelve onwards. I glance at the clock … 11.50 … I

turn on the oven and put the bread in. It will take about twenty

minutes … I reckon I just have time to go and tidy myself up.

I quickly dash upstairs and run a comb through my hair … the

jeans and jumper are not exactly seductive but they are practical and

he’s seen me in them before … he’s hardly likely to expect me to be

dressed up to the nines at lunchtime on a Monday! I hear a vehicle

draw into the driveway and peep out of the window … yes, that’s

him.

He rings the bell just as I get to the door and I make him jump as

I open it.

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‘You weren’t hiding behind the door, were you, Maggie?’ he

asked with a grin, as I let him in.

‘No, I was upstairs and when I heard the car, I peeped out of the

window. You rang the bell as I reached the door.’ I explained,

closing the door behind him. ‘How are you today?’

‘Much better for seeing you. A very welcome oasis of sanity in

a crazy world.’

‘Not so sure about the sanity.’ I commented, leading him into

the kitchen, where the soup is starting to bubble.

The aroma of baking bread fills the room as I open the oven

door and get out the baguettes, laying them on the wire rack to cool

slightly.

‘Is there somewhere I can wash my hands, Maggie?’

I direct him towards the downstairs loo. By the time he gets

back, I have set the table and am in the throes of pouring the soup into

bowls.

‘That smells absolutely wonderful, Maggie.’

‘If you’d like to sit down, Sam, I’ll bring it over.’ I replied

concentrating on what I am doing.

‘Yes, Ma’am!’ he said, saluting.

I have to tell him off for making me laugh and slop the soup all

over the floor.

‘Now you’re exaggerating, it’s only a dribble.’ He said. ‘So

what have you been doing with yourself, Maggie?’

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‘I had coffee with Caroline Sykes this morning.’ I said

demurely, watching him under my eyelashes. ‘In fact I was there

when you sent your text message.’

‘I see … and what did our mutual friend have to say?’ he asked

with a rueful grin.

‘Quite a lot actually.’ I said, unable to restrain myself from

grinning back at him.

‘I bet she did.’ I must have appeared concerned because he

went on, ‘It’s all right, Maggie, don’t look so anxious. Just for the

record, Caroline is someone I count as a friend of mine. No doubt she

told you I have something of a reputation for being uninterested in the

ladies.’

‘Something like that.’ I admitted, concentrating on my soup and

wondering just what is coming.

‘You are not going to be the most popular woman in the

vicinity, Maggie. That is if you are daft enough to go out with me

again.’

I glance up at him and see that he is smiling at me. ‘Not ten

minutes ago you were telling me I was an oasis of sanity … how

come I am suddenly daft? As for going out with you again … who

am I to turn down another opportunity to wander around a field in the

middle of nowhere in the dark?’

‘Magdalena, will you come wandering with me again?’ he

asked reaching across the table and taking my hand. Suddenly struck

300

by a ridiculous attack of shyness, I glance up at him … he’s looking at

me, a very serious look on his face. ‘Please?’

‘I’d love to.’ I replied and he visibly relaxes. Did he honestly

think I would turn him down?

‘That’s all right then. Only, I couldn’t stop thinking about you

yesterday.’ He said, completely taking my breath away.

‘That’s bad, Sam.’ I said, shaking my head sadly, anxious to

lighten the atmosphere, if only for my own sake, ‘First sign of

dementia, I reckon.’

‘You could well be right.’ He said in a similar tone, ‘You’ll just

have to take pity on a poor madman and be nice to me, won’t you.’

‘Well, I don’t know about that …’ I said with a sigh, ‘I’ve got

the children to consider, you know …’ I catch his eye across the

table and we both burst out laughing.

‘You really are an idiot, aren’t you?’ he said, shaking his head.

‘Well, now we’ve got that straight, I’d better have a chat with my

superior and arrange for you to be moved to someone else’s

caseload.’

‘Caroline said you’d have to do that.’ I said without thinking.

‘Oho … so you got that far did you?’ he said, delight written all

over his face. ‘And there was me wondering if I was being optimistic.

What else did Caroline have to say?’

‘Not a lot, only that she’d not gossip. She’s a good friend of

mine too. Do you want any more soup?’

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‘I reckon I could make room for a little more. It is extremely

tasty – did you make it yourself?’

‘Yes.’

‘Okay, what’s so amusing now?’ he asked seeing my sudden

grin at the recollection of what Caroline had said.

‘Nothing.’ I lied – fortunately he doesn’t press the point. ‘What

are you doing this afternoon?’

‘I’ve got a couple of visits over in Bradford on Avon.’ He said,

after a moment’s thought. ‘Shouldn’t be too bad.’

‘You don’t mind me asking about your work, do you?’ I asked,

sitting down again

‘Not if you’re interested.’ He replied tucking into his second

bowlful with enthusiasm. ‘It might not always be comfortable though

– I see some pretty frightful things sometimes.’

‘All the more reason for you to have someone to talk to then.’ I

said practically. ‘I’ll probably bore the daylights out of you talking

about the accounting work I do.’

‘Maggie, at the risk of sounding completely absurd, I doubt very

much you could bore me talking about anything.’ He said earnestly.

‘I was thinking about it yesterday, do you know we talked non-stop

for something approaching twelve hours yesterday?’

‘Yes, that dawned on me this morning when I was chatting to

Caroline. If you hadn’t realised what the time was, we’d probably

have gone on longer than that.’

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‘Talking about realising what the time is, I have to be moving.’

He said scraping his bowl for the last scraps. ‘Maggie, I don’t have to

tell you that I can’t guarantee any arrangements we might make – the

job just doesn’t allow it.’

‘I know, but I have the children too – so perhaps it would be as

well for me to repeat that you are welcome to come over anytime you

want to – privacy definitely not guaranteed, but at least we can talk if

nothing else.’ I replied, walking with him across the hall to the front

door.

‘And what else did you have in mind?’ he asked cheekily,

putting his arms around me.

‘Oh, I don’t know … strip poker … or … Scrabble, perhaps.’ I

said equally cheekily. Laughing, he pulls me towards him and we

kiss. ‘Yes, something like that.’ I continued when he releases me.

‘If you want feeding, Sam, give me a little warning – dinner tends to

be about six thirty in this household, but we can usually accommodate

an extra one. Shall I see you this evening?’ I asked, not wanting him

to go.

‘Possibly. I’ll let you know if not, how’s that?’

‘Fine.’ I said, kissing him. We cling together for a few

moments, then with a little shake, I let go of him. ‘Mr Dehaney, you

have work to do.’

‘Heartless woman! Throwing me out into the cold!’ he said

dramatically and we both laugh.

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I watch him as he drives away, a ridiculously satisfied grin on

my face.

Caroline is talking to Jan at the school gate when I get there, she

raises an eyebrow tacitly asking the question as I approach.

‘Mr Dehaney is seeing his superior about moving me off his

caseload.’ I said and we exchange understanding glances. Jan looks

puzzled. ‘He’s the social worker who manages the children I foster.’

I explained for her benefit.

‘Oh.’ She said, ‘I expect they do that from time to time.’

Caroline splutters and tries to turn it into a cough; I have to fight

to keep a straight face but Jan doesn’t seem to notice.

It is Mickey’s day to visit his Gran after school today. All the

way over he is trying to work out with Duncan how he can tell her

what he did with my father at the weekend without letting the cat out

of the bag about the jigsaw he is making for her.

In a little world of my own, I let them get on with it. Marian

ushers us into the cottage quickly – it has turned quite damp and

chilly now.

‘Mickey had a good time with your father, Maggie.’ She said

appreciatively once the boys have gone upstairs to play, ‘It was very

kind of him to spend so much time with the boy.’

‘Dad loved it, Marian, he wants them to go over again to finish

whatever it is they are doing. He has suggested possibly a Saturday

evening/Sunday stop over.’

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‘I’m all in favour, Maggie, just arrange it to suit yourself.’

Marian said ‘Once I’m fit again, I must have a party to thank all the

people who have been so wonderful.’

‘That’s a lovely idea.’

‘Sam Dehaney popped in this afternoon, Maggie.’ Marian went

on, ‘He said he’s going to transfer my case to another social worker.

He didn’t go into details and I didn’t like to ask him but I assume it is

something to do with you.’

‘I’m afraid so, Marian. It’s not ethical for him to have me on his

caseload now.’

‘So things are going well in that direction? Have you seen him

since Saturday?’

‘Yes, he came over for lunch today. Oh Marian, you’d have

laughed. My friend Caroline Sykes used to work with Sam … she’s

still a friend of his … well, I had coffee with her this morning and

when she heard that we’d been out together on Saturday she was

stunned. From what she says, he’s been chased by every available

female in the section … she reckons I’m going to be very unpopular

when it gets out.’

‘Well, he’s an attractive man, Maggie.’ Marian commented, ‘A

lonely one too from what I can see. You’ll be good for each other.’

‘I don’t know how the children will take it, especially Duncan,

I’ve not said anything to them yet.’ I said concerned … I’d

deliberately not mentioned anything to them last night on the basis

that it might not go anywhere.

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‘They’ll adapt, Maggie, and I’m sure Duncan will be all right

when he sees how happy you are.’ Marian said comfortingly. I look

up at her sharply. ‘Yes, you do look happier, Maggie, more

contented.’

We meet Jenna at the bus stop, by which time it is drizzling

slightly and most unpleasant. Together we walk up the road to the

house. My mobile phone signals a text message and, by the light of

the street lamps, I read what it says.

If offer of a meal is still open, I’d love to come tonight. But it’s

okay to say no. S

Jenna looks at me curiously – I don’t usually get text messages.

‘We’re having an extra one for dinner tonight, Jenna.’ I said sending

a quick reply.

‘Oh? Who’s that?’

Realising that my face is burning, and exceedingly grateful for

the darkness, I desperately hunt for the right words – oh, what the

heck.

‘Sam Dehaney … I … we went out for a meal on Saturday.’ I

said wondering what her reaction will be.

‘Is he your boyfriend, Aunt Maggie?’ she asked in a far more

relaxed tone than I can manage.

‘Hmmm… Yes, I suppose you could say that.’

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‘Oh good – he’s nice.’ She said happily. ‘What are we doing

for dinner tonight?’

‘I don’t know, what do you reckon?’ I asked … I hope the boys

take it in the same laid back way.

We discuss the possibilities all the way home, deciding that

cottage pie with peas and carrots would be nice and warming, with

rice pudding for afters. I’m not sure if there are any peas … I have a

vague idea that I used up the last of them in the soup … well, there’ll

be something else in the freezer. Some weeks ago I promised to show

Jenna how to make a rice pudding the old fashioned way, as she

reminds me.

I mention to the boys that we are having a visitor for dinner but

they don’t seem to take it in.

As it happens, Duncan is nearest the door when Sam rings the

doorbell and by the time I get into the hall, Duncan is taking Sam’s

coat and hanging it up for him. I feel Duncan’s eyes on me as I greet

Sam with a quick hug … I’ll have to explain things to Duncan, I can

see that. I know Matt has told him about Denny, but Duncan doesn’t

have to live with that particular fact of life. Sam is rather too big to

overlook.

Mickey helps me dish up the dinner - I am starting to insist that

he gives a hand occasionally and to his surprise (and mine) he’s

beginning to take an interest in how meals are prepared as well as in

eating them. I have sort of promised that he and Duncan can have a

go at preparing a meal later in the week … probably spaghetti

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bolognese; they can’t go far wrong with that. Sam chats to Duncan

about school but, although his replies are polite, it doesn't escape my

notice that Duncan’s not as forthcoming as he usually is.

Oh dear ... I'd not given any thought to how he would react to

the appearance of a boyfriend on the scene ... Almost as though she

has sussed the problem, Jenna is doing her best to keep the

conversational ball rolling - bless the girl!

Sam smiles up at me as I put a plate down in front of him and

invite him to help himself to the vegetables on the table. As I’d

thought, we’re out of peas so I’ve resorted to sprouts, much to the

disgust of the boys who don't like them.

'You know the rules, boys.' I said firmly, 'You have one and eat

it without a fuss or else I give you a spoonful and you sit there until

you have eaten them all.'

'Does that apply to me too?' Sam said nervously - Duncan's

head comes up suddenly, a look of surprise on his face. 'Only I'm not

overly keen on sprouts either.'

'Of course it does.' I said meeting his eyes and reading a certain

amount of mischief lurking in the depths, 'Nobody is exempt.

Anyway, they’re good for you.'

With a heavy sigh, Sam takes a couple of sprouts and, saying in

a heroic tone (with a conspiratorial glance at the boys) that a man has

to do what a man has to do, he proceeds to eat them, commenting that

it's just as well to get the worst over first. I see Duncan and Mickey

look at each other and follow suit.

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Jenna is concentrating on her dinner but I can see a smile

hovering around her mouth.

'They're not as bad as I thought they'd be.' Sam said in a

surprised tone of voice. 'In fact, I think I might have a couple more.'

he said spooning some more onto his plate. 'Duncan, Mickey – we

can’t let the women beat us, can we?' indicating the heaps Jenna and I

have on our plates.

'I'll have one,' Mickey said not wanting to be thought wanting in

this demonstration of macho-ness. Backed into a corner and not

wanting to look a wimp, Duncan has no choice but to do the same.

The rice pudding goes down a treat - the boys are initially

suspicious of anything that looks like it has a 'skin' on it, but after

Sam's enthusiastic 'Oh, my mum used to make rice pudding like that -

me and my brothers used to fight over the skin.' they suddenly became

keen to dive in, finding somewhat to their disbelief, I think, that they

like it.

'It's your turn to dry up, Duncan.' Mickey said at the end of the

meal. 'I'll go and set up the track while you do it, shall I?' The boys

have got back into their car racing now they have recovered from the

bug.

'It's all right, Duncan, I'll help your mum wash up.' Sam

announced, earning a spontaneous grin from my son, 'If that's all right

with you, Maggie?'

'As long as you don't drop things.' I answered, wondering just

how tricky this man is going prove. If this meal is anything to go by,

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I shall have to watch out. The kids all scarper sharpish - Jenna

moaning to the boys about homework and flute practice as they leave

the room. 'Mr Dehaney, you are the most shameless manipulator!' I

said as soon as the door is safely shut behind the youngsters.

'Who me?' he asked, putting his arms round my waist and

drawing me closer. 'I don't know what you are talking about,

Maggie.' When I have finished kissing him, he continued, ‘It didn’t

escape me that Duncan was not particularly happy about my

presence. I wanted to show him that I was no threat.'

'Well you did that well enough, I don't know how Jenna

managed to keep a straight face. All that palaver about rice pudding!'

'Oh, that was true enough.' he said with a grin, 'Though I have

to admit that I was stretching things a little with the sprouts. That was

a lovely meal, thank you very much, Maggie.'

'Well, you can show me how grateful you are by drying up the

dishes. The tea towel’s over there.'

‘I saw my boss this afternoon.’ Sam said, waiting for me to

wash something so he can dry it. ‘It was a tad embarrassing having to

explain why I can’t work with you any more.’

‘I bet it was. Sam this is all getting a little bit public, what with

Caroline and everything.’ I said, looking at him.

‘Do you mind?’ he asked, wiping a plate.

I consider this for a moment, ‘No, it just feels rather odd that’s

all. I’m not used to it. What did your boss say?’

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‘Apart from pulling my leg a little, he was very understanding

and I got the general feeling he was pleased that I’d found someone to

relate to … John’s a nice guy. You’ll like him.’

‘Shall I meet him then?’

‘Well, I’m rather hoping you’ll come to the section’s Christmas

party with me, so yes, you’ll meet him.’ Sam said earnestly.

‘When is it?’ I asked, delighted at the thought and desperately

trying not to appear too keen.

‘It’s this Friday – I know it’s short notice - it’s an evening do so

you’ll need a babysitter.’

‘I’ll have a word with Marian and see if she can help. What’s

the dress code?’

‘Oh just smart casual – we’re going out for a meal, that’s all.’

He answered while I desperately scan my wardrobe mentally … when

was the last time I needed a smart casual outfit? ‘Where do you want

this cutlery put, Maggie?’

He’s just finishing off the last of the plates when we hear

footsteps on the stairs ... the kitchen door opens and Jenna appears

carrying a book.

'Aunt Maggie, I can't work out how to do this.' she wailed.

Praying that it is not chemistry again, I quickly dry my hands and go

over to see what the problem is. French, I can cope with that. While

Sam finishes off the washing up, I sit at the table with her and

together we work through the exercise she has been set.

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'I'm no good at languages.' Jenna moaned when we have

finished.

'You'll get the hang of it, Jenna. Don't give up yet.' I

encouraged, 'Have you got much more to do tonight?'

‘No, Aunt Maggie, only my flute practice.’

‘Sam was saying how much he enjoyed the meal, Jenna.

Especially the rice pudding. That was Jenna’s work, Sam.’

‘Well done, young lady.’ Sam smiled, and Jenna glows under

the compliment.

The phone rings in the office. ‘Jenna, hang on a moment, that’s

probably Matt for Duncan.’ I said going into the office to answer it .

‘Hi Matt … yes, I’ll just get him for you.’ I go back into the kitchen,

‘Jenna, can you tell Duncan it’s his father on the phone as you go

upstairs, please?’

We hear Duncan tearing down the stairs a couple of minutes

later; he explodes into the kitchen and swerves into the office. We

stand well back to let him pass.

‘Coffee?’ I offered, once the whirlwind has disappeared from

the kitchen.

Sam and I take our mugs into the lounge, leaving Duncan to talk

to his father in peace. While we drink our coffee, Sam explains the

arrangements for Friday. The members of the section plus significant

others, are meeting up at a local restaurant at seven thirty.

‘How many are there in the section?’ I’ve come to the

conclusion that I am going to have to go shopping for something to

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wear for this event. Nothing in my wardrobe comes even close to

suitable.

‘There’re four social workers – you’ve met April – the other two

are Kim Turner and Sue Trake. Both Sue and Kim are single. In

addition, there’s John Boyd, our overall boss. He’s married to Cherry

and they’ve got a small child … about six, I think, though I may be

wrong on that. Then there is Alison who is our secretary – she’s

divorced – and Zoe our receptionist … you’ve met her, I think. We’re

only one of the three teams operating in this area though. The others

cover Bristol mainly though they do sometimes come to visit us in our

rural fastness.’

The lounge door opens and Duncan comes in. Slightly unsure

of himself, he hovers by the door. ‘Dad said to give you his love,

Mum. I told him you had a visitor – he said he’ll catch up with you

some other time.’

‘Thanks, Duncan.’ I replied, wondering just what Duncan might

have said to his father about Sam.

‘Sam,’ Duncan started, then hesitates. ‘Sam, can I ask you

something?’

Of course, Duncan.’ Sam replied warmly. ‘What do you want

to know?’

Duncan hesitates again. ‘What’s it like being black?’ I open

my mouth to jump on him, but Sam, gets in first. ‘It’s okay, Maggie,

he’s not being rude. That’s a good question, Duncan. But I don’t

think I can answer it – I’ve never been anything else.’ Duncan

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frowns, puzzled by this answer. Sam continues ‘Perhaps you can tell

me what it is like to be white.’

Duncan blinks at this then, as light begins to dawn, I see his face

change. ‘Oh … I see.’ Turning to me, he goes on. ‘I wasn’t being

rude, Mum, honest … I just wondered.’

I am left not knowing what to say but Sam is well and truly in

the driver’s seat now.

‘Do you mind me coming to see your mum, Duncan?’ he asked.

‘No…’ Duncan replied slowly, ‘But it feels a bit strange.’

‘I expect it does. I hope you’ll get used to it though.’

Duncan stands there for a moment then, flashing a smile at both

of us in turn, runs back upstairs.

‘You look a little staggered, Maggie.’ Sam commented.

‘I am.’ I replied, trying to get my head round this interchange.

‘You should have expected him to say something.’ Sam pointed

out reasonably. ‘He’s old enough to feel protective towards you as

the resident male and also young enough to feel threatened as your

son. As for his question, that’s logical – the chances are people are

going to comment to him about it once it becomes common

knowledge, especially as I doubt everyone knows you and Matt have

split up.’

‘Oh hell, I’d not thought of that. But I can’t go around with a

placard round my neck saying ‘It’s okay I’m not being unfaithful.’

Can I?’

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‘Not really.’ He said with a laugh, ‘Mind you, I’d like to see

what people said if you did. Does it bother you?’

‘What?’

‘The colour question.’

‘Don’t be daft!’ I replied emphatically, ‘I’ll have you know that

you’ve even been invited over to meet my parents. Oh hell, that

sounds dreadful!’ But he’s laughing and, after a moment’s

embarrassment, I join in.

‘How did that come about?’ he asked. I explain about my

father bringing the boys back on Sunday. ‘Hmmm …’ he said when

I’d finished ‘Maybe I could come with you when you next take the

boys over there … the last thing I want is your parents to be

worrying.’

‘I’m a big girl, Mr Dehaney! I can look after myself without my

parents’ assistance!’ I exclaimed, honesty forcing me to add . ‘Well,

most of the time at any rate.’

Before he can reply, his mobile rings. His relaxed mode

disappears as he takes the call, ‘Hello … yes … I see … of course …

about half an hour I should think ….No, don’t do that. Okay. ‘Bye.’

He sighs as he puts the phone back into his pocket. ‘Maggie, I have

to go, I’m so sorry.’

‘Now you’re being daft again. Your work is important and I

understand that. Nothing nasty, I hope.’

‘Not too bad.’ He replied as we take the empty mugs back into

the kitchen. ‘Similar sort of situation to the one you had with Fiona

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the other week.’ He is looking slightly lost, standing by the kitchen

table. I go over to him and put my arms round him.

‘You know where I am, Sam Dehaney, come back again soon.’

We cling to each other for a few minutes then, looking less

anxious, he smiles at me and with one last kiss, he starts moving

towards the door.

‘Kids, come and say goodbye.’ I called up the stairs and three

heads appear at the top of the stairs.

‘You aren’t going already are you?’ Mickey asked .

‘’fraid so, Mickey.’ Sam replied, ‘Someone needs me.’

‘Come back soon.’ Duncan put in, unconsciously echoing my

words. ‘Bye.’

‘Yes, come again.’ Jenna added.

‘There you see – unanimous vote.’ I said quietly to him as we

stand in the porch.

‘I’ll ring you, Magdalena.’ He promised with a smile.

Tuesday, I spend all day working on the accounts for the garage

… what with one thing and another, I haven’t been keeping up with

Dave’s accounts. Still, it keeps me occupied.

Sam rings lunchtime from somewhere – he’s got a case

conference all afternoon and needs to catch up on some housework

afterwards, so won’t be able to get over. Oh well … probably just as

well.

316

I see Caroline at the school gate after school. ‘I need to get

something to wear for this Christmas do – what on earth should I go

for?’ I wailed helplessly at her.

‘What Christmas do?’ she asked very reasonably.

I realise I haven’t told her I’m going with Sam to the meal on

Friday. I explain and, ignoring her amused expression, repeat my

question.

‘Something sexy.’ She replied, ‘There’s lots of lovely outfits in

the shops at the moment – when are you going shopping for it?’

‘I thought perhaps tomorrow.’ I faltered, a little staggered by

her reply … sexy? … me?

‘Well, if you mean in the morning, I could come with you.’

I quickly accept her offer.

Thus it is that, Wednesday afternoon, I find myself standing in

my bedroom looking at an outfit hanging on the wardrobe door and

wondering just what I have let myself be talked into. Caroline had

been very helpful, encouraging me to try on garments I would not

have even thought about. Fortunately, my efforts at losing a bit of

weight have paid off and I am less podgy round the middle now. I’d

never in a month of Sundays have contemplated wearing the strappy

satin top hanging in front of me, though the skirt is okay. Not so sure

about the earrings but they do match the outfit, so Caroline was

probably right about them too. If nothing else, it all fits me and even

looks quite pretty … though I am not used to seeing myself in

anything so impractical … I wonder what Sam will think of it. As

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luck would have it, I have a pair of suitable strappy sandals which

will go with it and an all purpose black coat which will go over the

top. Caroline had been keen that I should make an impact … not sure

what she meant by that.

When I talked to Marian about babysitting she suggested that

instead of her coming up to my house, I should take the kids down to

her place for the night. The boys can sleep in their sleeping bags as

they did at my mother’s house.

‘You don’t have to worry about anything that way, Maggie.’

She pointed out very sensibly, ‘Not to mention that I’d love to have

them here. I can hang onto the kids until you pick them up on

Saturday morning.’

Sam had thought this a sensible idea when I told him about it –

he rang late on Tuesday evening - he sounded tired, but said that he

hoped to be able to get over on Wednesday for dinner. I warned him

that the boys would be cooking but he only said that he’d be glad to

add a bit of macho support to their efforts. I have to say that when I

passed this on to Duncan and Mickey, they were pleased.

It’s hard work overseeing the boys as they make dinner. The

impulse to say ‘here, let me do that.’ is enormous but I resist it and the

end result looks as though it’ll be all right … there’s not a lot that can

go wrong with bolognese.

Leaving them to lay the table, I go upstairs and show Jenna the

outfit I’ve bought for Friday. She is very enthusiastic, insisting that I

try it on so she can see it properly.

318

‘That looks cool, Aunt Maggie.’ She said consideringly, her

head on one side, ‘You’ve lost weight.’

‘Does it really look okay do you think?’ I asked, looking at

myself in the mirror

‘More than okay.’ She replied encouragingly, ‘You look really

nice when you dress up. You should do it more often.’

‘I don’t know about that.’ I retorted, ‘I don’t think an outfit like

this would be right for digging the garden over.’

She’s still spluttering with laughter five minutes later as I put

my jeans back on. The sound of a car driving onto the gravel draws

her over to the window. ‘I think it’s Sam.’ She said, peering out.

‘Yes, it is.’ She waves to him. ‘I’ll go and let him in, shall I?’

‘Thanks, Jenna.’ I replied, dragging a comb through my hair

and checking that I don’t look too messy.

By the time I get downstairs, Sam is in the kitchen talking to the

boys and hearing all about their culinary efforts. He looks over as I

go through the door and the expression in his eyes makes my stomach

turn over.

‘Hello.’ I said smiling at him like a complete idiot and

extremely aware that there are three pairs of eyes watching us. ‘How

are things?’

‘Not so bad.’ He replied as the saucepan full of spaghetti boils

over breaking the tension; Jenna rushes over to help Mickey rescue

the situation.

319

I don’t get a moment alone with Sam until after dinner – the

kids escaping gratefully as Sam and I offer to attack the washing up.

As Jenna leaves, closing the door considerately behind her, we both

heave a sigh of relief.

Putting down the dirty plates he’s stacking, he comes over to

where I am starting to run a bowl of hot water and puts his arms round

me. Winding my arms round him in return, I relax against him.

‘I like your kids very much, Maggie, but they are somewhat

surplus to requirements sometimes.’ He commented, kissing me very

satisfactorily. ‘Oh, it is good to hold you, Magdalena.’

‘I’ll second that.’ I replied with feeling.

Naturally, we only get five minutes peace – the phone ringing in

the office brings us very quickly back to reality. Sam starts on the

washing up as I go to answer it.

‘Maggie?’ Matt said chirpily ‘How are you? Not spoken to you

for ages.’

‘I’m fine, thanks, Matt – and you?’ He tells me that he’s sorted

out the idiot at the works who is now toeing the line. ‘Great. How

are things with Denny?’

‘Fine, fine. What’s this Duncan was telling me about a visitor –

he didn’t say much but I got the definite feeling that the visitor was of

the male persuasion. Your gardener hasn’t materialised again, has

he?’

‘No, it was Sam Dehaney, the social worker who was

overseeing Jenna and Mickey.’ I said … well, it’s not a lie.

320

‘Surely social workers don’t usually come for dinner?’ Matt

asked, cutting to the chase immediately. ‘And you said ‘was’ – isn’t

he doing that now?’

‘No …’

‘Maggie, don’t you try to pull the wool over my eyes!’ Matt

said, ‘I take it you’re going out with this guy.’

‘Well …yes.’ I replied, feeling about ten years old.

‘Duncan seemed to think he was a nice guy.’ Matt commented.

Through the open office door I can see the subject of this

conversation grinning appreciatively at me from the kitchen sink and I

stick my tongue out at him. ‘I’m glad you’ve found someone,

Maggie.’

‘Yes, he is a nice guy.’ I answered, watching as the guy in

question bows gracefully at the compliment. ‘I’m going to his work’s

Christmas do on Friday night. Marian’s having the kids to stay for

the night.’

‘Got something nice to wear?’ Matt asked, ‘You want to do the

bloke proud.’

‘Yes, I went shopping with Caroline this morning.’ I replied,

my eyes watching Sam who is now concentrating on the washing up

and has his back to me … never realised what a neat bum he has

before … Maggie … what are you thinking!

‘So you staying at his place on Friday?’ Matt went on

conversationally.

321

‘No, of course not, Matt! I exclaimed automatically, ‘At least

… it hasn’t been mentioned.’

‘Well, you’d better bear in mind that it might, Maggie – don’t

get caught out.’ Matt advised … another of those surreal

conversations that no-one would believe in a million years. ‘Of

course, he could always stay at the farmhouse.’

‘Matt, will you just get it into your head that …’ I falter, aware

that I can be heard from the kitchen …

‘Ah, I deduce that the man is within earshot.’ Matt commented,

amusement colouring his voice. ‘You’d better stop blushing, Maggie,

and go find Duncan. Just remember what I said.’

A glance in the mirror confirms his assumption and, telling him

that he is a horrible man, which only makes him laugh even more, I

go to call Duncan. This at least gives me a chance to recover my

equilibrium a little and, by the time, I rejoin Sam at the kitchen sink, I

am feeling less ruffled.

‘I take it that your ‘big brother’ was dishing out the advice.’

Sam said.

The amusement in his voice sounds remarkably like Matt’s.

One of the things we’d talked about sitting on that rocky headland had

been the brotherly/sisterly nature of the relationship between Matt and

I.

‘Hmmm…’ I grunted in what I hoped was a non-committal sort

of voice, busily piling up the clean, dry plates.

322

‘I think I can probably hazard a guess at the nature of his

advice.’ Sam said, his amusement increasing at the same rate as my

discomfiture.

Swallowing hard, I concentrate on the dishes.

‘Matt’s a sensible man, by the sound of it, but then again, so am

I.’ His tone stops me in my tracks, I turn and look at him. ‘Maggie, I

don’t pretend to know where this is going but from where I’m

standing it’s looking pretty good at the moment and I’d be a liar if I

told you I hadn’t thought about the … the … um … possibilities

available to us on Friday night. But it’s equally clear that you

haven’t.’ He is picking his words very carefully … then I realise that

the office door is slightly open and Duncan is in there. ‘Now, how

about some coffee?’

Grateful for the change of subject, I busy myself getting out the

coffee. I carry the kettle over to the sink feeling slightly nervous at

approaching him – he’s right I’ve not given any thought to sex and the

very genuine likelihood has shaken me. I know I fantasised about

Pete that night but that wasn’t real, it was an impossibility and this …

this is all too real and possible.

‘Hey, Maggie,’ Sam said softly, taking the kettle out of my

hands and gently holding me, ‘Come here and stop looking so

worried.’

Wrapped in his arms, I feel the tension evaporate. ‘Sorry, Sam,

I don’t know what’s wrong with me.’

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‘There’s nothing wrong with you, Maggie, you’ve just never

been here before. That’s about the crux of it. From what you’ve told

me, that would appear to be the case at any rate.’

‘You’re right, Sam … I feel a total fool.’ I answered, burying

my face in his jumper, the roughness of the wool somehow soothing.

‘I mean, to have got to my age and never actually …’ I fall silent,

unable to find the words.

‘Never actually what?’ he whispered into my hair ‘Felt

passionate about a man? Been in love? Contemplated spending the

night with someone? Oh Maggie, it’s not a crime, you know.’

‘All of that, I suppose.’ I mumbled into his jumper, ‘Oh, Sam!

I must be a dreadful disappointment to you.’

‘Oh, how wrong you are!’ he said quietly, laughing a little.

‘You couldn’t be more wrong if you tried.’

‘Honestly?’ I asked, looking up at him wondering what is so

funny.

‘Honestly.’ He replied, kissing me gently. ‘Now, what about

that coffee?’

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Chapter 17

The weather is dry on Thursday morning so I decide to walk up

to the farm with Pete’s stuff. I can’t help laughing at myself as I walk

up the path, remembering the last time I walked up here.

Can it really be less than a week?

Can I only have known Sam for only six days? How absurd!

That conversation we had last night still bothers me a little. I

am starting to wonder if I’m peculiar in some way … Sam assures me

that I’m not, but what does he know? I was lying in bed last night

trying to imagine what it would be like having Sam there with me …

trying to put together my rather limited experience of sex with the

way I feel when Sam kisses me. It is beyond my imagination. Oh

well … wait and see what happens, I suppose.

Pete’s busy clearing up his unit when I arrive, there is a heap of

rubbish in the middle of the floor and the shelves all look extremely

tidy.

‘You’ve been busy.’ I commented as he smiles a welcome.

He’s wielding a broom and sweeping under the sink unit. ‘I do

try to keep the place reasonable, but every now and then I have to

give it a thorough going over.’ He said ‘How are you? Not mislaid

your keys again?’

‘No, thank goodness! I’m fine.’

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‘What did you do with your day on Saturday?’ he went on, ‘I

called in during the afternoon – your car was there but there was no

answer from the house, so I assume you went out somewhere.’

Dismayed by the thought that he had called and not found me in,

I mutter something about going out with a friend. Now I am with

him, I realise that I’m still attracted to him.

Oh this is all very complicated!

I wouldn’t say I am in love with Sam, but I would guess that I

am well on the way … yet Pete still pushes buttons with me. Again, I

wonder how I can be attracted to two men at the same time. No-one

has ever mentioned this to me before. I busy myself looking through

the paperwork while he finishes the sweeping and bags up the

rubbish. It all looks pretty straightforward.

‘How are the kids?’ Pete asked.

‘Oh, they’re fine. In fact they’re all going to Marian’s for the

night on Friday.’ I said, concentrating on the invoice in my hand …

I’m sure I’ve paid this one.

‘Oh, so you are going to be on your own.’

‘Hmmm…’ I replied only half listening.

‘Don’t suppose you’d care to meet up for a drink on Friday

night then, Maggie.’ He said – that percolates through to my brain

very fast.

‘Oh Pete, I’m sorry, I’m going out on Friday night.’ I said

glancing at him.

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‘Another time perhaps.’ He said brightly, ‘Where are you going

on Friday?’

‘It’s a Christmas party of sorts.’ I replied, relieved that he’s not

very bothered. I remind myself that he didn’t take advantage of the

opportunity when I was at his flat … he’s only being friendly.

‘Should be fun.’ He commented, ‘I hope you have a good time.’

‘Thanks.’ I said, confused … I thought he was in love with

someone … maybe he’s tried his luck and not got anywhere … not

wanting to poke my nose in, I start talking to him about the accounts.

I am still confused about my feelings when I walk back down

the path to the house. So much so, that I ring Caroline … she’s out …

damn! … I know, I’ll call Marian. ‘Marian, would you mind if I

came over to talk to you?’ I asked when she answers the phone.

‘Of course not, Maggie, is there something wrong?’ she asked

anxiously

‘No … at least I don’t think so, I just need to talk to someone.’

We arrange that I’ll go over in about half an hour. We can have

a bite of lunch together.

Marian is still looking concerned when I arrive, fussing around

me a little which is endearing and rather comforting. We settle in the

lounge over some sandwiches she has very kindly made. It is cosy in

here with the fire going.

‘Now what’s the problem, Maggie?’

Hesitantly at first, I explain my problem with the two men. ‘…

I daresay this all sounds totally crazy to you, Marian, but I’ve never

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been through this before and it is worrying me silly … I don’t want to

hurt anyone.’

‘No, Maggie, not crazy, just human.’ .

She nibbles a sandwich, her mind obviously working on my

dilemma. ‘Tell me about Pete.’ She said eventually.

‘Well, he tells me that he’s in love with someone but that he

doesn’t know if she cares for him or not … it seems they are good

friends and he doesn’t want to lose that.’ I said, ‘It’s odd, he says he

called round to see me last Saturday afternoon and when I saw him

this morning, he asked if I fancied going for a drink with him on

Friday night … but didn’t seem too bothered when I said I was

already booked.’

‘What about Sam?’ Marian went on.

‘Oh, Sam.’ I said smiling, ‘He’s a love. I feel comfortable with

him but not like it was with Matt, there’s another dimension … he has

a frightful effect on me at times … Oh Marian, I sound like a rather

backward teenager, even to my ears!’

I sigh … this relationship stuff is rather complex.

‘Maggie, Maggie … don’t look so forlorn! It’s not uncommon

to fancy two men at the same time, you know. The important thing is

to decide which one you want to go with. It strikes me that you have

the makings of a genuine relationship with Sam. If Pete wanted to go

out with you, he should have said so. I think what you are suffering

from with him is a crush – I daresay if he had done something about it

last week it would have become something more concrete but from

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what I can see, that’s about as far as it goes.’ She advised. ‘Just

make sure that Sam is the one you want …you can get into a mess if

you make the wrong decision.’ Something about her tone makes me

look at her curiously. ‘I made the wrong decision in a similar situation

once.’ She went on, her tone serious ‘I’m only finding out just how

wrong it was now.’

‘What do you mean, Marian?’

‘I was in the same situation as you once. I married the wrong

one.’

‘So what has happened recently to make you realise that?’ I

asked, Then light dawns, ‘…Charlie! Wasn’t he coming over for tea

sometime this week?’

‘Yes – he came round yesterday.’ She said, her expression

tender. ‘I was very silly all those years ago. The trouble is you don’t

realise it at the time. You see, Maggie, I told Charlie about my

dilemma and he got the impression that I preferred Jack so he let me

go. I should have realised that he only did that because he cared.

Believing that Charlie didn’t love me, I agreed to marry Jack.’

‘What a mess!’ I exclaimed seeing just how easy it would be to

fall into that one. ‘But how could you have known?’

‘I should have trusted my instinct - the fact I could talk to him

about the situation at all should have told me that much. I knew I

really cared for Charlie and that the thing with Jack was at least 50%

wishful thinking, I just wasn’t honest with myself .’

‘So what’s happening now?’

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‘I don’t know … yesterday was very positive. We talked a lot –

about why we had split up in the first place and what we had each

done since then. He still cares and I find that I do too. We’re going

to explore the concept a little.’

‘Marian, that’s fantastic!’ I said, really pleased for her.

As I walk away from her cottage on my way to the school, I

ponder what she said. How to know though … what would I do if I

had to make a straight choice between Pete and Sam?

I think about it, if, for example, they both asked me out …

which would I go with? My first thought is that I couldn’t hurt Sam

by going out with Pete … is that the answer? I visualise both the men

… mentally placing them side by side and analysing my reaction to

each of them in turn … no doubt about it, Sam wins hands down.

That seems to be the answer then.

Content to go with that, I stride through the wintry chill feeling

strangely liberated and looking forward to tomorrow night.

I am ready and waiting nervously in the lounge long before the

time Sam said he would pick me up. After school, I’d bundled the

excited kids into the car and driven them down to Marian's cottage to

be greeted by their equally thrilled grandmother; Jenna had been

sweet - giving me a loving hug and reminding me that my outfit looks

good, before bustling off to organise the dinner with Marian.

The house had been very quiet when I got back. Munching on a

slice of toast which I hoped would keep me going until dinner at

eight, I fed Toby and then took myself upstairs to shower and dress.

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Jenna's reminder firmly in my mind, I put on a little make up ... just

enough to brighten my eyes and make me look less like the farmer's

wife I feel like.

By the time I'd finished, I’d been reasonably pleased with the

effect ... but waiting in the lounge, my black coat on, my small black

bag on the table, is nerve-wracking.

I’ve checked my keys are in the bag at least three times before

the headlights of Sam's car sweep into the drive. Quickly doing up

my coat and reminding myself I look fine, I rush out to meet him.

'So how are you this evening, Magdalena?' he asked, efficiently

turning the car round.

He's taken to calling me that a lot; I like it.

'Nervous.’

'No need for that.' he said calmly, 'You should have heard the

girls in the office today ... comparing notes on what they were going

to wear and, when they thought I couldn't hear, asking April for

information about you.'

'What did she say?' I asked, anticipating the sort of comment

she would make.

'Not a lot, actually, and what she did say was complimentary.'

he replied, surprising me. 'I know she came across as antagonistic,

but she's impressed by the way you’ve handled Jenna and Mickey -

she told me so. I think she'll be taking my place.'

'I don't know that I like the sound of that.' I commented, 'Her

hugs wouldn't be nearly so much fun.'

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'Idiot!' he laughed, 'You know I didn't mean it like that . ..

anyway, she’s going out with a doctor, so she’s not available!’

He manages to find a parking space not far from the restaurant

so I have about fifty yards in which to pull together my confidence,

such as it is and, by the time we walk into the restaurant, I feel I look

relaxed and confident. Sam squeezes my hand comfortingly as he

leads me across the room towards the bar where there is a small group

of people chatting.

We’re intercepted on the way, 'May I take your coat, madam?' a

very smart waiter asked me. I unbutton my coat and hand it to him.

Sam waits for me and, as I turn I receive the confirmation I need that

my outfit looks all right.

'Magdalena, you do me proud.' Sam whispered as we continue

towards the bar. ‘You look stunning.’

'Does it look all right?' I asked, glancing up at him.

'A lot better than all right.' he replied with feeling, 'They really

are not going to like this - April stressed how homely you were when

they were talking this afternoon - sexy didn't really come into the

conversation.'

… sexy eh? My confidence bolstered by his comment not to

mention the appreciative look that came with it, I greet Sam's

colleagues with a genuine smile. Kim is a short but slim, dark-haired

woman with a sharp face ... her sweeping glance takes in every item

of my clothing. Lying in my teeth, I tell her how nice it is to meet her

and smile engagingly. The woman standing next to her is the total

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opposite of Kim - what I tend to call a wishy-washy blonde. I smile

at her too as Sam introduces us. Her double-take and quick accusing

glance at April says it all.

'Hello, April.' I said warmly, anticipating a chilly response but

it seems that Sam was right about her change of opinion.

'Hi, Maggie, I gather you are going to come onto my jolly little

caseload.' she replied, giving Sam a sideways look I cannot decipher.

'I'll come over and see you sometime - but enough of talking shop.

It's nice to see you.'

'Thanks.' I replied, staggered by her friendliness even though

I’d been forewarned.

She introduces me to Mike, the man standing at her side – he’s

quite a lot older than she is. Friendly guy … he comments on how we

significant others have to stick together in this rather rarefied

company which gets him swatted laughingly by April. She really

does have another side … I’d never have guessed.

'Maggie, come and meet my boss.' Sam said, taking me by the

elbow and leading me further along the bar. 'John and his wife,

Cherry.'

John offers me a drink and I accept a glass of wine gratefully.

Cherry is an attractive woman and beautifully dressed. She

compliments me on my top asking where I got it. John laughingly

tells her not to be so boring, and asks me what I do with myself.

'I'm one of that dying breed, a full time housewife and mother.'

I replied, 'Though I do take in a little accountancy work as well.'

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'Really?' John said, turning to his wife, 'Maggie here might be

the answer to your problem, Cherry. My wife works for Mansfield

Blake part time, Maggie, but is also setting up a small business and

needs some help with the financial paperwork.'

'You make me sound like I can’t add up!' Cherry protested

laughing, 'Seriously though, Maggie, I just don't have time to process

all the invoices and stuff properly - do you think this is something you

could do?'

'It is precisely what I do, Cherry. Perhaps we could have a chat

sometime.'

'Perhaps you could let me have Maggie's address and telephone

number, Sam.' Cherry said ,'I really want to get it all sorted out before

I get into a mess with it. I can do it, Maggie, but just don't have the

time what with working at Mansfield Blake three days a week,

running the business and keeping up with the kids.'

'I can imagine!' I commented, 'I think I know someone at

Mansfield Blake – Gary Blackford, he’s the boyfriend of someone I

know.’

‘Gary? Oh yes, he’s one of the senior partners.’ Cherry said,

with the usual pleasure which accompanies the discovery of mutual

acquaintance.

‘How old are your children?' I asked, now that common ground

has been established. She explains that they have two girls aged five

and seven - I'm on solid ground here and we discuss the problems of

schools until the group is called to the table.

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Our numbers have been swelled by two – Alison, the secretary

and Zoë, the woman I recognise from the reception desk. As we all

move towards the table where we are sitting, I notice that Alison is

deep in conversation with Kim, it doesn't take much to guess what

they are talking about, judging by the glances in my direction.

Don't know if the wine has gone to my head or if I have just

found my feet - after all I used to deal with this sort of gathering with

Matt's colleagues - but I feel quite comfortable now. Sam is

obviously pleased and keeps giving me proud little smiles, which is

rather endearing. After the usual argy-bargy about who is going to sit

where, I end up sitting between Sam and Sue, with Kim opposite ... a

pity, I would have preferred to be near Cherry but I'll survive.

The meal is far more fun than I thought it would be - the food is

excellent and although there is a certain edge to Kim's comments and

Alison pointedly ignores me, Sue is okay and April unbelievably

affable – possibly because Mike is beside her – of course, Sam is his

usual chatty self. I work hard drawing Sue out, as I anticipated, she is

wishy-washy, talking about the 'kiddies' she works with and telling

me that she regularly goes back to visit her family in Weston-super-

Mare. She has a married sister there as well as a mother and they are

all very close ... phoning each other every day ... a thought which

horrifies me. My family don’t live in each other’s pockets like that

and I can’t imagine anything worse, but each to their own.

'So what do you do as a job, Maggie?' she asked when I have

run out of things to ask her about her family. I haven't touched on the

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‘significant other’ topic ... as she hasn't brought someone along, I

presume there isn't one, which would go along with the concept that

she has been trying to make it with Sam.

'I'm more or less a full time homemaker.' I replied, drawing on

some of Caroline's jargon.

Kim's face takes on a slightly supercilious expression and I can

almost read her thoughts.

'Oh, of course,' Sue tittered 'You look after two of Sam's

children, don't you.'

'Yes.' I replied brightly, ignoring the rude sotto voce comment

from Sam. From what I know of him, he doesn't suffer fluffy women

very well and I imagine that Sue must try his patience at times.

'Don't you find your mind stagnates not working?' Kim asked

smoothly.

'Well, it depends what you mean by not working.' I replied,

smiling at her disingenuously, 'Maintaining three children is quite

time consuming - not least because of the anti-social hours … and

then I’m a keen gardener.' She raises her eyebrows at me in

disbelief as I go on. 'Of course, I don't use my qualifications as much

as I used to, but I manage to keep the old brain cells ticking over by

taking in a little work.'

'What is your line of work, Maggie?' Sue asked, oblivious to

her colleague's clear intention to make me feel inadequate.

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'Accountancy.' I replied, 'It's not exactly exciting but I have to

say it is satisfying when the numbers work. What about you, Kim,

are you a local?'

'Not exactly.' she said, 'I was brought up in Bristol.'

'Oh, what part?' Sam is happily chatting to Cherry on his other

side though I am aware that he's listening.

'Bedminster.'

'I worked not far from there when I first qualified.' I said

conversationally. 'Offices in Welsh Back. The firm have moved now

though and the place has been converted into a health club. I was

quite surprised when I went past there recently. So what do you do

socially, Kim? It must be difficult having a proper social life in your

job.'

'I manage.' she said, her expression suddenly ferocious 'I make

a point of turning my phone off sometimes, unlike Sam.'

'I do turn it off sometimes, Kim.' Sam replied, grinning at me,

'After all, there are times when even I don't want to be disturbed.' The

inference makes me blush slightly and increases Kim's annoyance ... I

shall have words with that man later.

April, sitting beside Kim, adds fuel to the fire by commenting

that at least now he has something to be disturbed at. I catch her eye

and she winks at me. As Kim chews on her annoyance, April asks

how the sheep are getting on ... for a moment I don't follow her train

of thought, then remember that I mentioned the sheep living in my

field when showing them over the house.

337

'Fine, April. The boys enjoy helping the farmer with them and

are very good about keeping their boots clean. It's been a bit of an

eye opener for Mickey, I think.’

'Sheep shit is a real nuisance.' April commented knowledgably,

not mincing her words, deliberately by the look on Kim's face. I get

the feeling there is little love lost between those two.

'You know about these things?' I asked and she goes on to tell

me that her brother works on a large farm in Dorset.

'It's mainly arable, of course, but they do have a few animals

which are looked after by a local school.'

'That's great, Pennington House is thinking about doing that sort

of thing.' I replied enthusiastically. 'I think it’s a brilliant idea - so

many kids these days never learn about the fundamentals of life.'

'What do you mean by the fundamentals?' Sue asked, 'Sex and

all that?'

'No, not at all, though I suppose that does come into it – animal

husbandry does teach one a healthy attitude to sex.' I replied, gently

kicking the man by my side who ought to be concentrating on his

conversation with Cherry and not passing whispered comment on

what I am talking about. 'But I’m talking about where food

originates. Too many kids are ignorant of the realities of where the

food on their plate comes from.'

'Isn't that a bit passé?' Kim asked trying for the bored,

cosmopolitan look, 'Nobody cares about that sort of thing nowadays.'

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'But they do, Kim.' April said, 'Look at how massive the market

is for organic produce.'

‘Yes, but that’s a world away from growing it yourself.’ Kim

asserted, reluctant to give up her stance. ‘Surely you don’t expect

people to dig their own vegetable patches, these days.’

‘Why not - if they’ve got the space to do it?’ I asked, ‘I do. I

have a freezer full of home grown veg and believe me, they taste

much better than the shop-bought variety. Anyway, it is very relaxing

doing a bit of gardening at the end of a busy day.’

‘You’ll never convince Kim of that, Maggie.’ Sam commented,

‘She’s a proper little urbanite. I doubt you’ve ever got your hands

dirty with soil, have you Kim?’

‘No, thank goodness!’ Kim shuddered. I wonder what made

her think she could possibly have any chance with Sam who, for all

his upbringing in the city, is a country boy if ever I saw one.

After the meal, we move into one of the alcoves where we can

mix a little more and I get a chance to talk to John Boyd. He’s a tall

man, probably early fifties and clearly highly professional … he

reminds me a bit of Matt’s managing director.

‘It’s really nice to meet you, Maggie.’ He said as Sam and April

go off to get a round of drinks. ‘Sam hasn’t said a lot – he wouldn’t –

but the difference in him has been noticeable. You’re very good for

him.’

‘Thanks, he’s pretty good for me too.’ I replied, more

convinced than ever about Sam.

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‘Cherry was saying over dinner that you two must come over for

a meal sometime.’ He went on.

‘That would be nice. Sometime in the New Year, perhaps. I

honestly don’t know where the time goes and really can’t believe it is

only a couple of weeks until Christmas.’

‘What are you doing for Christmas, Maggie?’ John asked. ‘We

have Cherry’s family coming to visit us. I anticipate we shall be knee

deep in children!’

‘That should be fun, John.’ I said appreciatively. ‘As to what

I’m doing, I don’t know to be honest – my son is going up to visit his

father on the 27th

and taking Mickey, the boy I look after, with him

and I imagine that Jenna, Mickey’s sister, may well go to stay with

her grandmother for a while.’ I replied as Sam appears with my

drink.

He obviously catches the end of the conversation.

‘What are you doing over Christmas, Sam?’ John asked.

‘I was thinking of taking some of that leave you are always

nagging me to take, John.’ He replied, ‘Somewhere warm could be

rather pleasant after the cold spell we’ve had lately.’

‘Good idea, let me know when you know for definite.’ John

said, turning away to talk to Alison and Cherry.

‘Is your passport up to date, Magdalena?’ Sam asked as we

stand together, alone for the first time since we arrived here.

‘Yes, why?’

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‘How long is Duncan going to be at Matt’s place?’ he went on,

not answering my question.

‘Just over the week – he goes on the 27th

, Matt’s booked both

Duncan and Mickey on a flight, and they come back on about the 4th

I

think, they’re back to school a couple of days after that.’

‘Do you think Marian would have Jenna for the same period?’

‘I should think so … Sam, what are you plotting?’

‘I thought we might grab a few days somewhere warm …

Tunisia maybe, or the Canaries.’ He said, the look in his eyes playing

havoc with my thought processes. ‘If you’re up for it, that is.’

‘The man offers me a week in the sun and asks if I am up for it?’

I said, desperately trying to cover my emotional turmoil.

‘Well, are you?’ he persisted. ‘No, that’s not fair … think

about it and let me know when you’ve had a think.’

‘So what are you two discussing so intently?’ April demanded,

her grin all too knowing. ‘Sam, you really have gone and done it

now. Do you realise that Alison is probably never going to make you

a coffee again.’

Sam rolls his eyes in mock dismay ‘How shall I survive?’ he

said despairingly as we both chuckle.

‘Sam’s had to put up with a horrifying degree of attention from

Alison over the last few years, Maggie. It’s a miracle that he hasn’t

become obese with all the home-made biscuits and treats which have

come his way … and you go and blow all her hopes to smithereens.’

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‘She did with some cheese and salad sandwiches too.’ Sam

interposed with a grin, ‘Just don’t tell Alison.’

‘Your secret is safe with me, Maggie.’ April replied. ‘Oho,

here comes Zoë. She’s okay, Maggie, just a bit of a gossip – be

warned!’

I watch as Zoë makes her way through the group across to

where we are standing. She is a dumpy woman of middle fifties, I

should think, and looks as though she is quite content with her lot,

unlike Kim who looks dissatisfied a good bit of the time. Sam gives

Zoë a hug as she arrives and tells her she is looking gorgeous.

‘Sam, don’t be so ridiculous.’ She replied affably, batting him

gently on the chest. ‘How about introducing me to your lady friend

here.’

‘Magdalena Jones – this is Zoë Barratt, the mainstay of our

reception desk, our one bastion against unwanted visitors and a sure

defence when we don’t want to take a telephone call.’ Sam

announced.

‘Cheeky so-and-so!’ she chuckled, ‘Nice to meet you,

Magdalena – that’s an unusual name.’

‘Nice to meet you too, Zoë. Yes, my mother thought it a

romantic name, she was rebelling against being Practical Pat all her

life and thought it would stand me in good stead, little thinking that it

would be shortened to Maggie … and there is nothing much more

prosaic than that!’

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‘Oh dear, names are a liability at times. I tried so hard with my

daughter and she doesn’t like her name either!’ Zoë replied.

‘What’s her name?’

‘Jennifer … I thought Jenny was a nice gentle name and yet she

hates it.’ Zoë complained. ‘You just can’t win with kids!’

‘Tell me about it!’ I commented with feeling.

The party starts breaking up just after one in the morning and we

all start collecting our coats. I have spent the last half hour leaning

comfortably against Sam as we sit together on a sofa, his arm loosely

round my shoulders, chatting to Cherry about her work at Mansfield

Blake – she works with trusts and probate. She’s hoping to reduce

her hours and tells me that there is talk of a woman who used to work

for the firm coming back so that they can do a job share, working half

a week each and although it would only be a reduction of half a day,

that would make a difference. I suddenly realise who she is probably

talking about but don’t say anything.

343

Chapter 18

Waving goodbye to the others, Sam and I walk hand in hand

back to where he parked his car. It’s chilly but not unpleasantly so

and there’s no ice on the windscreen which is a relief. He unlocks the

passenger door, holding it open for me and, while I settle down, goes

round to get into the driver’s seat.

‘Where to, Magdalena?’ he asked, starting the car.

I look across at him. ‘What are the options?’

‘Well, I could take you straight home and leave you in peace, or

we could go back to my place and I can give you coffee and then take

you home later or we can go back to your place and you can give me

coffee and I’ll go home later.’ He outlined. ‘It’s up to you.’

‘I’ve not seen your place.’ I said after considering the choice

for a few moments. ‘What’s the coffee like there?’

‘Drinkable.’ He replied with a grin, ‘My place then?’

‘If that’s okay with you.’ I replied, my grin matching his. I’ve

never given any great through to where he lives before … it hasn’t

come up … but for some reason I am surprised when he turns up

Belvedere. ‘Where do you live, Sam?’

‘Camden Road. It’s where all the aristocracy lived in Regency

times and appealed to my romantic streak, though I have to say it’s a

complete bugger walking back from town – uphill all the way. The

plus point is that I’ve got a view to die for from my bedroom.’

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‘Is that where I say, I look forward to seeing it?’ I commented,

amazed at my own daring.

‘I don’t know, is it?’ he asked equably.

… I don’t answer.

He has a spot of bother parking – the houses don’t have off-road

parking and most of the residents being home at this hour, the bulk of

the available spaces are taken. Nevertheless, he successfully

manages to manoeuvre his car into a spot I wouldn’t have even tried

to get my car into and, hand in hand, we walk along to his place. He

has a first floor flat in a large, well kept mansion. It has obviously

been renovated and is tastefully decorated … the staircase sporting

very nice potted palm trees that I recognise as being Kentia palms.

His flat occupies most of the first floor; the front door leading into a

small hallway with doors leading off it.

‘Stick your coat on the hat stand, Magdalena.’ He suggested, as

we go in. ‘The kitchen is through here.’

Sam’s bedroom kitchen spare room

Lounge/diner

bathroom

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He quickly shows me round the flat, spare bedroom, bathroom,

large lounge and indicating where his bedroom is with a throw-away

‘and my room’s through there.’

The rooms are well proportioned and his taste in furniture is

unexpectedly in keeping with the Georgian décor. He has a computer

in the spare room though there’s a bed in there as well, where, so he

tells me, his brother Jed stays when he comes to visit. By contrast the

kitchen is almost Spartan in its practicality.

‘Do your parents come down often?’ I asked as he busies

himself with the kettle.

‘No, Mum doesn’t find it too easy getting around now, so I tend

to go up there to visit these days.’ He explained. ‘Georgian Bath

isn’t really her thing anyway, it reminds her too much of the Big

House where her mother worked as a servant on the plantation.’

He leans casually on the work surface while we wait for the

kettle to boil. I don’t know why I do it, it just feels right, I suppose,

but I quietly go over to him and put my arms around him, hugging

him tightly. I close my eyes leaning against him, feeling his arms

round me and just relax … it’s like coming home. The realisation

makes me smile.

He’s tenderly kissing my neck … it tickles slightly … and I sigh

with pleasure. Pulling back slightly, I reach up and run my fingers

through his hair, as he gazes at me, his expression unreadable. His

arms tightening round me, he kisses me … tenderly at first then with

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growing fervour and I find myself in the throes of a passion I have

never felt before.

The kettle boils and turns itself off but we take no notice.

‘Maggie, my love.’ He said eventually, ‘You are dynamite.’

Startled, I look at him. ‘That is not a criticism you understand ... I’m

just not used to have a sexy woman kissing me that passionately.’

‘Do you think you could get used to it?’ I asked flirtatiously …

a little voice in the back of my head demanding to know just where

this sexually confident woman has materialised from.

‘Oh, I daresay I could make the effort.’ He replied with a

slightly forced laugh, ‘But I’m not sure how long I can restrain myself

from carrying you off to the bedroom.’

‘We could find out.’ I said, concentrating my eyes on the

buttons of the shirt he’s wearing - at one and the same time wanting

him so badly and yet afraid of what I am doing.

He is silent for a long moment during which time I almost count

the strands in the warp of his shirt … holding my breath. He gently

lifts my chin so I am looking at him.

‘I don’t leap into bed lightly, Magdalena.’ He said … then his

tone changes slightly, ‘How much did you have to drink tonight?’

‘Mr Dehaney! Don’t you dare suggest that I am drunk! I may

be a little more relaxed than usual but I’m no more than slightly tipsy,

I’ll have you know.’

‘Okay, don’t bite my head off.’ He said, his grin wide, ‘I’m

only trying to protect you from yourself.’

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‘Bloody hell!’ I complained with a sigh, ‘I’ve spent my life

with a man who treated me like a kid sister who isn’t safe let out on

her own and now you come along and continue the process!’

‘I have no intention of treating you like a sister, Magdalena.’

He asserted firmly, ‘Believe me, I do not see you as a sister of any

kind.’

‘That’s a relief.’ I said, kissing him, ‘You had me worried for a

moment. … just for the record, I don’t leap into bed lightly either.’

‘I know that.’ He said looking searchingly into my eyes, ‘I just

don’t want you to regret anything later.’

‘I would only regret allowing you to talk me into having a cup

of coffee and going home like a good little girl, Sam.’ I said as

honestly as I can, my face red with embarrassment.

A thought occurs to me …

‘Sam, when I was expecting Duncan, I worried that I wouldn’t

know when I was in labour and everyone told me that I would know

when the time came. I’ve been worrying in a similar way about

whether I’d know when I wanted to …to … make love to a man …

and I find the same applies.’

‘You don’t mess around, do you, my love?’ he said, kissing me.

Waking in an unfamiliar bed with a man’s arm thrown across

me feels strange … my eyes closed, I lie there, listening to Sam’s

even, quiet breathing and re-living our love-making … nothing like

that has ever come my way before … despite the fact we had to be

sensible with condoms which had its naff moments. I must do

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something about contraception, having to mess around with those

things is going to drive me potty. I’m no judge of technique, but as a

lover Sam is certainly extremely satisfactory … well, I think so,

anyway. He didn’t seem too disappointed with me either which is a

relief … my experience is very limited and although I assume that

instinct is a large part of the whole thing, there must be things I can

learn.

‘What are you thinking about, Magdalena?’ a quiet voice in my

ear asked.

I turn to see Sam looking at me. ‘Just what a fantastic lover you

are. I thought you were still asleep.’

‘You thought wrong, my love.’ He said, drawing me closer; I

snuggle against him contentedly. ‘What time do you need to pick up

the kids?’

‘Mid morning.’ I replied, coming down to earth with a bump

‘Have you any idea what the time is?’

‘It’s nearly nine – considering what time we must have got to

sleep, that is early.’ He said, after reaching across for his watch. ‘I

ought to be getting you home.’

‘Can I use your shower?’ I asked contemplating the

practicalities of real life again and deciding that I have to get up. ‘No,

perhaps not – I’d hate to put on my clothes again. I’ll have one when

I get home. What are you doing for the rest of the day?’

‘Nothing – do you think we could do something with the kids

this afternoon?’ he suggested, sitting up

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‘That would be nice.’ I said reaching for my clothes. ‘You go

and have a shower, I’ll get dressed and organise some coffee shall I?’

‘Yes, Ma’am.’ He said saluting … while I’m looking round for

something to throw at him he whisks round the side of the bed and

grabs hold of me … his naked body against mine … I kiss him and,

losing balance, we fall onto the bed where we lie entangled for a few

minutes. ‘Magdalena, you are a wicked, wicked woman.’ He said

extricating himself from what could have become a rather more

passionate embrace than we have time for. Grabbing his dressing

gown, he makes for the door, pausing as he gets there. ‘Now just

what are you going to say to Matt when he asks, eh?’

‘You ….!’ I started but he scarpers off to the bathroom, his

laughter ringing down the hallway.

It’s gone ten by the time we’re ready to leave and Sam

suggests that I ring Marian to tell her that we are on our way, just in

case she’s worrying. Without thinking about the implications, I call

her number, realising just as she answers that I am going to have to

explain a little … ‘Marian, just ringing to say that we’ll be picking the

kids up shortly.’ I said, kicking myself for using the plural and

hoping that she won’t pick it up. That was stupid of me, wasn’t it?

‘We?’ she immediately asked, ‘You’ve made up your mind

then?’

‘Yes, how’s Charlie? I retaliated.

‘Fine. But I didn’t spend the night with him.’

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‘And what makes you think that I might have done?’ I

challenged.

‘My phone displays the number of the caller, Maggie.’ Marian

pointed out laughing. ‘See you soon.’

Laughing myself, I hang up ….

Sam drives me back to my place so that I can shower and get

into something more suitable than my glad rags from the night before.

Toby is decidedly annoyed with me but, while I rush upstairs to

shower, Sam feeds him and gives him a big cuddle. All things

considered we make good time, getting to Marian’s cottage just

before eleven. She welcomes us both in and offers coffee.

‘How have the kids been?’ I asked as the three of us squeeze

into her kitchen while she makes the coffee.

The house is very quiet.

‘Fine. The boys were a little excitable at first, but calmed down

quickly enough. They’ve gone to get my newspaper; I shouldn’t think

they will be long. They helped Jenna with the dinner.’ Marian

replied, ‘You’ve been teaching Mickey to cook as well, I hear.’

‘He’s more interested than Duncan … seems to want to learn.’

‘Men need to be able to cook these days.’ Sam put in, ‘It’s only

sensible to teach them to cook – my mother didn’t and I had to learn

the hard way. I can tell you it wasn’t amusing.’

‘I was talking to someone you may know last night, Marian.’ I

said remembering my conversation with Cherry Boyd as we carry out

mugs into the lounge. Jenna’s in there, curled up reading a book in a

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chair. She immediately comes over and gives me a hug asking how I

enjoyed my evening.

‘It was lovely, Jenna, thanks.’ .

‘Did you like her outfit, Sam?’ she asked.

‘Very much.’ Sam confirmed. ‘She knocked spots off all the

other women there.’

‘Good.’ Jenna said proudly, grinning at him.

‘Do you want a drink, Jenna?’ Marian asked.

‘No, I’m fine, thanks, Gran.’ Jenna said returning to her book –

she looks very relaxed, I am pleased to see.

‘So who is this person I might know?’ Marian asked. I tell her

about my conversation with Cherry Boyd. ‘Yes, I’ve met her a

couple of times, Maggie, Gary mentioned something about a job share

… it would be ideal, don’t you think?’

Before I can reply, I hear the sound of the front door opening

and being noisily closed. Duncan and Mickey erupt into the room,

both of them looking red-cheeked from the cold.

‘Mum!’ Duncan exclaimed, coming over and hugging me. ‘I

didn’t see your car outside.’

‘No, we came in Sam’s car.’ I replied, waiting for a negative

reaction from my son …

‘Mum, when are we going to get a Christmas tree?’ Duncan

went on, not at all interested in my travelling arrangements.

‘We could do that this afternoon, if you like.’ I replied, looking

at Sam who nods.

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‘I’m sure I saw an ad in the paper for somewhere selling

Christmas trees.’ Marian put in, ‘I’ll go and find it.’

While she is out, the boys tell me how much they have enjoyed

themselves … going into detail about the midnight feast they had last

night as a treat.

‘Mum, it was great fun – much more fun than what you were

doing.’ Duncan said.

I meet Sam’s eyes over his head. ‘I’m sure it was.’ I agreed,

watching Sam wide-eyed look of indignation behind Duncan’s back.

‘But we grown ups like to take our fun in different ways, you know.’

Marian comes back into the room waving a page from the

Chronicle triumphantly.

‘Do you want to join us, Marian?’ I asked, perusing the ad … it

seems there will be a massive Christmas tree sale up at the racecourse

today.

‘No thanks, Maggie, I’m expecting a visitor this afternoon.’

‘Anyone I know?’

‘It’s Charlie.’ Mickey put in, oblivious to his grandmother’s

embarrassment. ‘You know him, Aunt Maggie.’

‘Well, we won’t hold you up then.’ I said blandly. ‘I’m sure

there are things you need to get ready.’

‘Touché!’ Marian replied with a smile.

‘We’d better take the kids’ stuff home and drop it off.’ I said to

Sam as we walk out to the car. ‘How are we going to do this? Should

we take both cars?’

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‘I can tie a tree onto the roof bars, Maggie.’ Sam said ‘It would

be a pity if we couldn’t all go together. What do you want to do for

lunch?’

‘Don’t know – what do you fancy?’ I replied, dropping the

boys’ sleeping bags into the boot.

‘We could go out to a pub or pick up something from the

chippy.’ Sam suggested, ‘What would you prefer?’

‘The chippy would be more sensible, I think. Sausage and chips

all round, perhaps?’ I said as I get into the car.

‘Oh, wow!’ Mickey exclaimed, ‘That would be great!’

‘Problem solved.’ Sam said, starting the car.

The car park at the racecourse is heaving with people when we

get there but in his usual sickening manner, Sam finds a parking space

easily. We all pile out of the car, the boys immediately picking up the

air of excitement which hangs over the place. Apart from the

Christmas trees, there are stalls selling fast food and even a bar in a

marquee … someone has really gone to town on this. A brass band

playing carols adds to the festive atmosphere.

‘What size are we looking for?’ Sam asked as we stroll along

past heaps of different sizes of tree.

‘I usually get a six footer.’ I replied, ‘It goes in the lounge and

there’s plenty of space.’

Choosing a tree is a long drawn-out exercise, with Mickey and

Duncan arguing the toss and even Jenna putting her three-ha’porth in.

Sam appears to find the whole process amusing … the wretch … even

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egging the boys on a little. In the end we select a tree which meets

the criteria and join the queue to have it bagged up for us … it’s funny

that we haven’t seen anyone I know … oho ... I spoke to soon …

that’s Jan and Dave over there … are they coming this way? No,

thank goodness! What a surprise - they’re heading off towards the

expensive, guaranteed not to drop all over the carpet section.

Sam produces some rope and, with the ‘help’ of the boys, ties

the tree securely to the roof bars; we head for home. I’m feeling

pretty shattered by now … the late night showing, I suppose; I insist

on having a cuppa before we set the tree up. Duncan and Mickey go

off to find the bucket I usually use … it’s in the shed somewhere …

while Sam and I flop over the kitchen table and Jenna goes off to

clear a corner of the lounge.

‘You look whacked, Maggie.’ Sam commented reaching out to

take my hand, ‘Maybe we should have opted for the midnight feast

….’

‘If only I had known you would have preferred that …’ I replied

and we laugh.

355

Chapter 19

I drive the boys to school on Monday morning – I’m going

straight off into town to get some serious Christmas shopping done.

The session on Saturday has reminded me how close the festive

season is getting.

As I am letting the boys out of the car, Caroline comes running

across, ‘How did it go on Friday?’ she asked eagerly ‘I was thinking

of you.’

‘Brilliantly.’ I replied grinning at her while I give each of the

boys a hug. ‘Off you go boys – have a good day.’

‘Can you manage coffee today?’ Caroline went on. ‘You’ve

got to tell me all about it.’

‘I’m off shopping now but I could probably get to you about two

thirty … how would that be? I’ll be dying for a coffee by then.’

‘You’re on! I shall look forward to see you, Maggie.’ She said

with a grin, ‘Hope you get what you are looking for. I tried to do

some Christmas shopping with the girls on Saturday. There were a

couple of coachloads of tourists sauntering around with all the time in

the world … it nearly drove me crackers.’

‘I’m hoping it will be quieter today. I’ll see you later.’

By the time I get to Caroline’s just after two thirty, the boot of

the car satisfyingly full of bags, I am more than ready for a coffee.

I’d grabbed a hot sausage roll lunchtime and munched it as I traipsed

between shops so have been on my feet all day.

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‘Successful day?’ Caroline asked as I take the weight off my

complaining feet – sitting the car was a mistake … I have stiffened up

horribly.

‘Highly successful. I think I’ve broken the back of the job.’

‘Oh well done …. I’m still not sure what I am going to get Jim

… men are the very devil to buy for.’ She said, pouring boiling water

into mugs. ‘Come on, let’s go and sit in the lounge – it’s warmer in

there.’ We settle comfortably … ‘So tell me all about it.’

The next half hour is very enjoyable with me telling Caroline in

detail all about the reactions of the various ladies on Friday night.

‘April Jeavons has become my bosom pal all of a sudden which took

me rather by surprise. I’ve no idea what brought that about, I meant

to ask Sam but forgot.’

‘And how did Sam like your outfit?’ … I smile, remembering

the comment he made when he was undressing me in his bedroom on

Friday night. ‘Oh, that good, eh?’

Before I can reply, my mobile phone starts jangling. I glance at

it … I don’t recognise that number … I wonder who that can be?

Might be one of the schools … ‘Hello? I said tentatively.

‘Is that you Maggie?’ a man’s voice said … sounds vaguely

familiar … though I can’t quite place it. ‘John Boyd here.’

‘Oh, hi, John.’ I said recognising his voice now, ‘What can I do

for you?’

‘Well, it’s bad news actually, Maggie.’ He went on, ‘Sam’s

been involved in an incident and is currently on his way to A&E.’

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‘What! Is he all right?’

‘I don’t know the details, Maggie, but I understand he’s in one

piece. I’m just on my way down there now. Can you get there?’

‘What’s up, Maggie?’ Caroline asked.

‘Hold on a sec, John … Sam’s been hurt in an incident of some

sort, Caroline. He’s on his way to hospital.’ I said looking at her, not

quite knowing what to do … I’ve got the kids to look after … oh Sam.

‘You get on down there, Maggie, I’ll collect the boys. Jenna

gets the same bus as Bryony, doesn’t she? I’ll meet her and bring her

back here – don’t worry I’ll hold on to them until you get back. You

get on down to the hospital.’ Caroline said wonderfully.

‘Thanks, Caroline. John … I’ll be there as soon as I can.’ I said

... staring at my mobile for a moment after he breaks the connection . ..

desperately trying to think. ‘Caroline, Marian will be expecting the

boys after school – Sally Richards will have her phone number.’ I

explained quickly going to get my coat, aching feet forgotten.

‘Don’t worry, Maggie, I’ll deal with it all – here, have a Mars

bar just in case you get peckish.’ Caroline sensibly said, dashing into

her kitchen, as I hurry towards the door.

Immensely grateful, I give her a hug as I rush out of the house.

Thank goodness I have the car here … trying hard not to panic, I

quickly turn the car in the road … there’s a lot of traffic at the

junction with the main road … come on … somebody let me out …

thank you, sir! You are a gentleman!

358

The hospital is only a mile away but it seems to take ages to get

there … oh Sam … stop imagining the worst, Magdalena …

concentrate … oh, where shall I park? It’s not easy parking at the

hospital … that’s the A&E department entrance … oh, thank

goodness, there are some designated spaces there. Relief flooding

through me, I quickly park the car and dash towards the entrance.

Once inside I don’t know where to go … I’ve not been in here before.

I had thought there’d be a reception desk or something by the door but

I find myself in a large waiting room. Oh, there’s the reception desk

over there. I make my way over towards the hatch and join the queue

of people.

‘Maggie!’ I turn quickly, looking around to see who is calling

me. It’s John Boyd … leaving the queue I almost run over to where

he is standing.

‘Where is he? Is he all right?’

‘I don’t know,’ he replied leading me over to some seats where

we can sit ‘They’re examining him now. But he was conscious when

they brought in him, I understand.’

‘What happened?’

‘I’m not entirely sure, but it looks as though he was attacked.’

John replied, his concern showing very plainly. ‘I haven’t had a

chance to see him myself yet. The police will be along shortly. From

what I can gather, Sam had just finished a visit and was walking back

to his car when some men jumped him. They were frightened off by a

359

woman who helped Sam into her house and she called an ambulance.

He also got her to call me.’

‘Mr Boyd?’ a nurse asked, coming over to where we are sitting

and looking at me enquiringly.

‘Yes … oh, this is Mrs Jones, Mr Dehaney’s partner.’ John

explained, ‘How is Mr Dehaney?’

‘The doctor has just finished examining him – if you’d like to

come this way.’ She replied, not giving anything away. We follow

her through the double doors out of the waiting area and along a

corridor. 'Please wait here.' the nurse asked, disappearing through a

set of double doors a little further along, and leaving us standing in

the corridor. A few moments later, a doctor comes out with the

nurse. She indicates John and I to the doctor.

'Mr Boyd?' the doctor asked. John nods and introduces me as

Sam's partner.

'Ah … is your name Magdalena by any chance?'

'Yes. I'm Magdalena Jones.' I replied slightly taken aback by

his words, 'Why?'

'Mr Dehaney was a little disorientated when he first arrived here

and kept asking for someone called Magdalena. At least we know he

wasn't hallucinating.' the doctor replied with a smile.

'But how is he?' I asked, suddenly desperate to see Sam.

'He's rather battered but not too seriously, Mrs Jones.’ The

doctor replied, referring to the file in his hand. ‘He has concussion

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and considerable grazing to his face, the ligaments of one knee appear

to be damaged and he has a broken arm and a couple of broken ribs.'

'Good God!' John interposed as I take this information in . ..

what on earth could have happened? 'Doctor … is he conscious?

Only the police will want to take a statement when they get here.'

'Oh yes, he's perfectly lucid, though he has a nasty headache.

We want to keep him in for a couple of days, partly because of the

concussion and partly because we can't plaster his arm until the

swelling subsides.' the doctor replied.

'Can I see him?' I asked.

'Of course.' the doctor smiled, 'He's in there.'

'You go on in, Maggie,' John said tactfully, 'I want to talk to

the doctor here.'

Nervously, not quite knowing what to expect, I push my way

through the door into the room. Sam’s lying with his eyes closed on a

bed. He’s dressed in a hospital gown and covered by a blanket; his

own clothes are in a heap on the floor in a corner ... it looks as though

they had to cut some of them off him. One side of his face is swollen

and looks almost as though it has been grated ... they’ve slathered

something on it and it looks gunky … his right arm is bandaged and

supported in a sling.

Not sure if he is asleep or not, I creep across the room and stand

beside the bed uncertain what to do. Tentatively, I reach out and

touch the unharmed side of his face, reassured by the warmth;

immediately his eyes open and, a little crookedly, he smiles.

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'I let you out of my sight for five minutes, Mr Dehaney, and

look what a mess you get into.' I said trying to be upbeat, my voice

cracking slightly as tears suddenly threaten. 'Oh, Sam.' Swallowing

hard in an attempt to stop the tears flowing, I lean over and kiss him.

'Maggie, don't cry.' he replied, reaching up with his good hand

to wipe away the treacherous tear running down my face. 'It looks

worse than it is, at least that’s what they tell me.'

'How do you feel?' I asked, sitting down beside the bed, holding

his hand firmly in mine.

'D'you want an honest answer? Or the polite version?'

'That bad?'

'I've been better.' he replied, wincing slightly. 'Everything

aches and some bits are downright painful.'

The door opened and John Boyd came in. 'Hi Sam. You and

your habit of doing things properly! The police’ll be along in a few

minutes to take a statement. Can you cope with that?'

'Yes, of course. Has the doctor given you any idea what they

intend doing with me, John?'

'They want to keep you in for a couple of days, Sam. They need

to monitor your concussion and, of course, they can't plaster your arm

yet.' John replied. 'The doctor said that, all being well, you can then

go home as long as there is someone there to look after you.'

'But ...' Sam started ...

'You'd better come back to the farmhouse, then.' I interrupted,

'There's no way you can manage on your own in the flat.'

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'But ....' Sam repeated.

'Stop fussing, Sam Dehaney.' I said firmly.

The look he gives me is less than complimentary and reminds

me forcibly of Mickey on a bad day, but at least he stops protesting.

The door opens again, and a police constable comes in,

notebook in hand. He greets John as an old friend. 'I gather one of

your lot is going to give us some work, John.' he said with a

sympathetic glance at Sam. 'You've been in the wars, Sam.'

'Tell me about it, Tom!' Sam replied. 'What do you want to

know?'

'Let's start by you telling me in your own words what happened,

shall we?' Tom the policeman replied.

He hasn't queried my presence but I saw him look at the grip I

have on Sam's hand … doubtless he’s drawn his own conclusions.

Sam closes his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts. 'I

was in Jubilee Road - I'd just been to see a client in one of the flats in

Montressor House - and was walking back to my car which was

parked in the communal car park, you know, Tom, the one round the

back of the building?’ he paused, gathering his thoughts, then

resumed his narrative. ‘As I turned the corner, two men suddenly

blocked my way. I recognised one of them straight away, he's the

brother of one of my clients … he's a registered heroine addict and

used to beat up my client, encouraging his mates to abuse her. I

helped her get an injunction stopping him going near her. Anyway,

before I could say or do anything, he punched me in the stomach and

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then he and his mate beat me to the ground. I rolled into a ball as

recommended in the self-defence training you insisted we took, John,

and used my arm to protect my head, but they kicked me and

generally knocked me around, and ground my face into the gravel.

One of them had a stick or something I think. I'm not sure what

would have happened if another resident in Montressor House hadn't

come round the corner with her dog then. She saw what was going

and the dog started growling ... the next thing I knew, the men had

scarpered and the woman was bending over me asking if I could

stand. With her help, I limped to her flat - luckily it was on the

ground floor. I explained who I was, and showed her my ID. She

rang for an ambulance. That's about it, I think.' Sam finished,

sounding tired.

'Do you know the woman's name?' Tom asked.

'No, but she was in the ground floor flat to the right of the main

side entrance. Older woman with an alsatian. I think she would

probably be willing to give evidence.' Sam said, his eyes closed.

I squeeze his hand and he smiles slightly.

'You definitely recognised the men?' Tom asked. 'Have you a

name?'

'I didn't know one of them, but the other was definitely Bruce

Fielding. I don't know where he lives these days, but he used to live

with his sister - her details are on the file, John.' Sam replied. 'The

other guy was younger, white, probably late teens, skinny and about

five foot eight, I reckon, he had dark hair ... very short and spiky.'

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'I reckon we can pull them in fairly quickly.' Tom said,

scribbling in his notebook. 'You'll be pressing charges, I take it.'

'Definitely - all the way.' John replied before Sam can get a

word in. 'I am not having my staff beaten up by any thug who thinks

he’s got a grievance.'

Tom the policeman shuts his notebook and, saying that he will

be in touch, leaves us.

‘John, did the doctor say how long I would be out of action?’

Sam asked, his eyes still closed … is his head aching badly?

‘He reckoned at least a month possibly longer, depending on

your broken bones … the ligaments in your knee may take longer.’

John replied, his eyes on Sam’s face.

‘Shit!’ Sam exclaimed, ‘Maggie, I’m sorry that rather buggers

any plans we had for Christmas.’

‘Don’t be silly, Sam.’ I said calmly, ‘It doesn’t matter. What

does matter is that you are okay … it could have been a lot worse.’

‘I’m going to be making tracks, Sam.’ John said, looking at his

watch. ‘The doctor said that he’d be finding a bed for you as soon as

he could. Maggie, I’ll give you my phone number – let me know

what happens, will you?’

‘It’s okay, John, I’ve already got it – you rang me and it’s on my

mobile. I’ll keep you posted.’

With a rather worried smile, John leaves us.

365

‘What have you done with the kids?’ Sam asked, opening his

eyes again. ‘I’ve lost track of what the time is but shouldn’t you be

picking them up from school or something?’

‘It’s just gone five.’ I told him looking at my watch, ‘As for the

kids, I was round at Caroline’s when John rang and she’s fielding

them for me.’

‘Good … thanks for coming, Maggie.’ Sam said, ‘I didn’t know

if John would ring you or not.’

I lean over and kiss him again. ‘As if I could stay away. It’s not

often I have you tied to a bed.’

‘Magdalena! You just wait until I am feeling better.’ He said

with a little more spirit. ‘But seriously though, I can’t go back to your

place when they let me out of here.’

‘Sam, if you honestly don’t want to, then I’ll accept it. After all,

we’ve not known each other very long and if you don’t feel you want

to be with me that much, then that’s okay.’ I replied seriously,

pausing for a moment before going on. ‘But if you are just being

awkward for the sake of it, you know just where you can stick that.

You couldn’t manage on your own, especially in a first floor flat, Sam

Dehaney. I don’t know how bad your leg is, but you may well be

limping for a while and apart from the practical side of shopping and

the like, you’ll go crackers being on your own all day.’

‘Did anyone ever tell you that it is extremely annoying that you

are right so often, Magdalena?’ he asked, his eyes closed again.

‘Yes, several people … frequently.’ I replied with a smile.

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‘Obnoxious, bossy woman.’ He muttered, ‘Why do I love you

so much?’

‘Sheer good taste, I imagine.’ I replied flippantly as my

stomach lurches. ‘Do you?’

‘What, love you?’ he asked, ‘Yes. Mind you, you have bear in

mind that I’m suffering from concussion and that can cause a man to

have the most peculiar ideas, so I am told.’

‘In that case, you won’t have any problem if I tell you I’m pretty

crazy about you too. What’s all this about asking for Magdalena?

The first thing the doctor said when I met him was ‘Is your name

Magdalena?’’

‘Was I? I don’t remember. I don’t remember a vast amount

after that woman with the dog took me into her flat to be honest. The

dog kept licking me, I remember that.’

‘I’ll take her round some flowers when I find out who she is.’ I

said, the tears threatening again. ‘Oh Sam, what if she hadn’t come

along just then?’

‘Don’t think about it, my love.’ He said, opening his eyes ‘It

didn’t happen, that’s all there is to it.’

‘Why did they do it?’ I asked, frowning as I try to imagine

wanting to beat someone up this badly.

‘Drugs, vengeance … whatever … it’s how life is for some

people.’ Sam said equably. ‘I’m afraid it’s the world I work with

some of the time. Attacking me is par for the course with that

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particular individual. You should have seen what he was doing to his

sister and her kid … I got off lightly. Come here, my love.’

I lean over, burying my face in his shoulder as he winds his one

good arm round me and kisses the top of my head. We stay like that

for some time. The sound of the door opening, jolts me upright and I

look round to see the doctor standing in the doorway. ‘We’ve got a

bed for you Mr Dehaney.’ He announced, ‘We’ll be moving you up

to the ward very shortly.’

‘You’d better get back to the kids, Maggie.’ Sam said, ‘Can you

ring my parents? Would you mind?’

‘Of course not.’ I said, wondering just how much nerve that is

going take. ‘Will they know who I am?’

‘Oh yes. I did nothing but talk about you when I rang them on

Sunday. Take my mobile – the numbers are on there. Please impress

on them that I’m okay. You’d better take my other bits and pieces as

well. I won’t need any of that lot in here.’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll do my best.’ I said, going through the heap of

clothing … a lot of it bloodstained … emptying his pockets of his

personal stuff. I put the cash on the bed beside him, adding some

change from my purse. ‘You might need some money, Sam. I’ll find

out when I can come and visit on my way out. Is there anyone else I

should notify?’

‘No, I don’t think so. You’ve got my keys – you’ll have to get

me some more clothes before they let me out of here.’ He said as two

burly-looking porters come into the room. One of them has a black

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bin bag in his hand and offers it to me to put Sam’s clothes in, adding

the comment that I should take them home with me.

‘My car’s still over at Jubilee Road, Maggie … talk to John

about that. He’ll probably arrange to collect it but he’d better do it

fairly smartish or else it will get vandalised.’

Giving him a last kiss, I get out of the way, while the two men

manhandle the bed out of the room; I stand in the corridor, clutching

the black bag, watching as Sam disappears into the bowels of the

hospital. Feeling emotionall overwhelmed, I start making my way

back to the entrance to the department. The queue to the reception

desk has gone now, though there’s a team from some TV company or

other talking to one of the nurses. Skirting round them, determined to

find out what I can, I go over and have a chat with the woman behind

the desk, asking about visiting, wards and the like. She’s very helpful

and kind.

It is dark and cold outside; I hurry over to my car … the fact I

haven’t eaten properly becoming rather obvious. Remembering the

Mars bar, Caroline gave me, I let the engine run while I quickly

munch my way through it … chocolate’s a wonderful thing and

although I know the kick it gives me won’t last long, at least I feel

less light-headed now. Putting the car into gear, I manoeuvre it out of

the parking bay and head for the main road.

369

Chapter 20

The lights of Caroline’s house are very welcoming as I trudge

up the path to her front door. The door opens before I get there – she

obviously saw me from the kitchen window. Quickly drawing me

into the warmth of the house, she bundles me into the kitchen.

‘Maggie, how is he?’ she asked anxiously, at the same time

putting the kettle on.

‘It could be worse.’ I replied, sinking onto one of the high

stools by her breakfast bar. ‘He’s got a broken arm, broken ribs,

damaged ligaments in one knee, a grazed face and concussion.’ I

lean on the breakfast bar and burst into tears. Caroline rushes over

and puts an arm round my shoulders, rocking me slightly against her

comfortingly. ‘Oh, Caroline, he could have been killed.’

‘But he wasn’t, Maggie.’ She said firmly, ‘Are they keeping

him in?’

‘Yes,’ I replied, sniffing and fumbling in my jeans pocket for a

tissue. ‘For a couple of days or so … they might let him out then as

long as he has someone to look after him. He’s coming back to my

place. The silly sod argued about it.’

‘He would.’ She said with a laugh, leaving me and pouring

boiling water into a mug. ‘Here, Maggie, have some coffee. Do you

want something to eat? I fed the kids.’

‘No, I’ll be all right. Thanks for that, Caroline. What did

Marian say?’ I asked, getting my bearings again.

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‘She was horrified but said not to worry and for you to let her

know if there’s anything she can do to help. The kids were as good as

gold, though obviously concerned. That Jenna’s a nice girl. She

offered to help with preparing the dinner – put Bryony to shame, I can

tell you.’ Caroline replied, as I drink my coffee, the warm liquid

doing me good. ‘I’d better go and tell them you’re here – Duncan

was worrying. You stay here and pull yourself together.’

She bustles out of the room while I finish my drink, better for

my crying session. A few minutes later, the kitchen door swings open

and Duncan comes in quietly … I’d have expected him to rush into

the room … he looks very adult … all eyes and restraint.

‘Mum ….’ He ventured … I hold my arms out to him and he

walks straight into them. We hug each other hard for several minutes.

‘Are you okay, Mum?’

‘Yes, I’m fine … just a bit upset.’

‘How’s Sam?’ he asked, frowning with worry.

‘Poorly.’ I said with a sigh. ‘He was attacked by two men. He’s

got a broken arm and some broken ribs as well as grazes and

concussion.’

‘What’s concussion?’ I explain that if you bash your head your

brain bounces around banging on the skull. ‘Oh. Is he going to be all

right?’

‘Yes.’ I said, confidently. ‘Though they’re keeping him in

hospital for a couple of days.’ Mickey and Jenna charge into the

room, both of them asking how Sam is and trying to hug me at the

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same time. ‘Hey, it’s all right, you two.’ I said trying to get my arms

round all three of the children.

‘Sam’s got a broken arm.’ Duncan told the others, ‘And broken

ribs. They’re keeping him in hospital.’

‘Can we visit him?’ Mickey asked.

‘Yes, can we visit him?’ Jenna seconded.

‘I don’t see why not.’ I replied, ‘He’ll only be there for a day or

two ... at least that’s the plan. But he’ll need someone to look after

him when he comes out of hospital.’

‘Then he’d better come and stay with us.’ Duncan said and the

others nod their agreement. ‘Mickey and I can share a room and he

can have mine.’

Mickey nods enthusiastically.

‘That is very kind of you, Duncan.’ I said, full of pride in my

generous son. ‘We’ll see how it goes. But you lot had better go and

collect all your stuff together – we’re going home in a minute.’

‘I hear you’ve had an unpleasant afternoon, Maggie.’ Jim said

from the doorway as the kids go to do my bidding. ‘I’m really sorry

to hear that. Sam Dehaney’s a good bloke. What happened?’

‘He was attacked by a couple of men with a stick. Fortunately,

a woman came along with a dog and the men ran off … Sam was in a

pretty bad way by then … If she hadn’t come along …’ The thought

of what might have been is haunting me.

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‘Don’t think about it, Maggie.’ Caroline said firmly, pushing

past her husband into the kitchen and taking me by the shoulders. She

looks straight into my eyes. ‘It didn’t happen.’

‘No … it didn’t.’ I said, regaining control of my oscillating

emotions.

‘What ward is he in, Maggie?’ I give her the details and thank

her again for covering with the children for me. ‘You’d do as much

for me, Maggie. They’ve been as good as gold.’

It is a relief to get home.

The boys disappear upstairs but Jenna quietly attends to feeding

Toby while I unload the shopping from the car and stow everything in

the dining room out of the way until tomorrow. I really cannot deal

with that at the moment.

‘Have you had anything to eat, Aunt Maggie?’ she asked when

I finally take my coat off.

‘No.’ I said with a sigh, suddenly realising just how tired I am.

‘I could knock you up an omelette if you’d like one.’

‘Jenna, that would be heavenly.’

I can hear beeping … the answerphone.

While she busies herself cooking, I go into the office and

playback the messages … there’s one from Marian saying that she

hopes all is well and looking forward to talking to me when I have a

moment … another from Sally saying she saw the report on the TV

news and hopes I am coping okay … one from the vicar saying he’s

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heard the news and if there is anything he or Jane can do, to let him

know … one from Matt, sounding worried because I am not in.

I ring him first. ‘Maggie, is everything all right?’ he asked

once I get through. ‘It’s not like you to be out at tea time.’

‘No, it’s been a rather fraught day, Matt.’ I replied, telling him

about the events of the day.

‘Bloody hell!’ he commented ,‘Poor bloke. Are you all right,

Maggie?’

‘I will be when I have had something to eat, Matt. Jenna’s

cooking something for me now.’ I replied, grateful for his concern,

‘Caroline was absolutely brilliant looking after the kids for me.’

‘She would be, Maggie – you’d have done the same for her.’

Matt said, unconsciously echoing her words. ‘What is going to

happen when Sam comes out of hospital?’

‘I’m going to have him here; he won’t be able to manage on his

own … his place is a first floor flat – with a damaged knee that would

be very difficult.’ I said, waiting for the storm to break. ‘Duncan

suggested that he could share with Mickey and give his room to Sam.

It might be a sensible solution.’

‘I take it that Friday went well, then.’ Matt said and I can

almost see the amused expression on his face. ‘Where’s his first

floor flat?’

‘He lives in Camden Road – one of those large mansions that

have been split into up-market flats.’

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‘Very nice.’ Matt commented, ‘I shall look forward to meeting

this guy.’

‘I think you’ll get on.’ I said musing over the thought of the two

men meeting. ‘Oh hell, I‘ve just remembered I’ve got to ring his

parents and tell them what has happened.’

‘Do they live locally?’

‘No, they’re up in London. Matt, I’ve got to go – not only have

I got to go and eat my omelette – and Jenna’s making faces at me

from the kitchen – but I have lots of calls to make. I’ll get Duncan to

ring you tomorrow shall I? It might be a bit later than usual, the kids

want to visit Sam in hospital after school.’

‘That’ll be fine, Maggie. Give the bloke my best wishes, will

you. Take care.’ .

Contemplating this, I wearily go back into the kitchen.

The omelette is just what I need though and I compliment Jenna

on it – she’s becoming a very competent cook. While she clears up

– her idea, not mine – I go back into the office to phone people. I

have Sam’s mobile but before I ring his parents, I decide I had better

ring John first about the car.

‘Thanks, Maggie.’ John said, ‘I’ve got a spare set of keys at the

office – I’ll make sure the car is picked up. Can I bring it over to your

place?’

‘Yes, that would be fine, John. You can leave it in the drive

anytime.’ I replied. ‘And thank you for ringing me this afternoon.

We both appreciated it.’

375

‘Standard practice, Maggie. Next of kin and all that – I know

strictly speaking you’re not, but it seemed the best thing to do. Oh by

the way, if the papers or TV start pestering you, let me know. They

caught me as I was leaving the hospital – I gather it went out on the

BBC news.’

‘I saw a film crew in the waiting area … didn’t realise that was

why they were there. Surely they won’t bother me.’

‘Don’t know, Maggie, you know how they like a heartwarming

story … as I said, if they bother you, ring me.’ He reiterated, ‘Cherry

sends her love by the way. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.’

‘That’s kind of her – please send mine back. Thanks, John.’

Right ... that’s that one out of the way … I’ll shelve the thought

of the media for the time being. I’d better ring Sam’s parents. I find

the number on Sam’s mobile and write it down … oh, come on,

Maggie, don’t be such a wuss … just think how your parents would

feel if it were you. Emboldened, I key in the number and listen as it

rings.

‘Hello?’ a voice said … the rich tones of the Caribbean … his

father hasn’t lost the accent.

‘Mr Dehaney? My name’s Maggie Jones. Sam has asked me to

ring you.’

‘Ah … the mysterious Magdalena …. but why has Sam asked

you to ring? Has something happened?’

376

‘Yes, I’m afraid so … there was an incident this afternoon, Sam

was attacked by a couple of men He’s got some broken bones, but

he’s all right … well, mostly.’

‘What happened?’ Mr Dehaney asked, his voice sharp with

anxiety, and I tell him what I know. ‘Dear God!’

‘They’re keeping him in hospital for a couple of days just to

check everything is okay.’ I said as reassuringly as I can, ‘They can’t

plaster his arm until the swelling goes down, you see.’

‘But what’s he going to do when they let him out of hospital?’

he said almost to himself, ‘He won’t be able to manage for himself,

will he?’

‘He’s going to come here and I’ll look after him, Mr Dehaney.’

I replied, quickly adding, ‘My son, Duncan, has offered to let Sam

have his room.’

‘That is very kind of Duncan. Maggie, can you hold on a

moment while I tell Sam’s mother what’s happened. I expect she will

want to talk to you herself.’

I hang on, reflecting on how like his father Sam sounds

…without the accent …

‘Maggie?’ a woman’s voice said worriedly ‘This man says my

Sam is injured … how badly is he hurt?’

‘His right arm is broken, but not seriously so, he has some

broken ribs and there is damage to one of his knees, Mrs Dehaney, his

face is a bit of a mess because he fell on gravel and you know how

that grazes, and he has concussion but I saw him this afternoon and

377

he’s quite conscious, though not particularly comfortable.’ I gabbled,

understanding her need to know details … if this were Duncan …

‘The ribs will take a while to heal ….’ She muttered almost to

herself. ‘My man says you will be looking after Sam when he comes

out of hospital.’

‘Yes, he won’t be able to look after himself for a while … we

had a bit of an argument about it.’ She laughs at that, telling me that

Sam always needed a firm hand.

‘I’d like to come and see him … if you don’t mind, Maggie.’

She asked uncertainly.

‘Of course, you would be more than welcome, Mrs Dehaney.

I’ll give you my phone number, shall I? When you know when you

want to come, let me know and we’ll arrange something.’

‘You are a kind girl, Maggie.’ She said gratefully. ‘Sam said

you were lovely, now I believe it.’

‘I know how I’d feel if it were my son, Mrs Dehaney. I’ll do

my best to look after him for you.’

‘Give him my love when you see him tomorrow, Maggie … and

thank you so much you for calling.’

I am just about to ring Marian when the doorbell rings.

Cautiously, I open the front door, John’s words ringing in my head.

But it’s Marian standing there with Charlie … as I welcome them into

the house, I comment that I was just about to ring her, thanking her

for her message.

378

‘I couldn’t sit at home not knowing, Maggie, and after seeing it

on the news …’ Marian said as I lead them into the lounge. Jenna

offers to make some drinks … earning Marian’s appreciative smile.

‘How is Sam? It all sounded horrid on the TV.’

Again, I go through the list of his inuries and tell the story of

how he got them. Marian is horrified, reinforcing my opinion that

despite her experiences with Fiona, she’s led a fairly sheltered life.

Although I myself was appalled by the incident this afternoon, it was

only because Sam was involved … I know these things happen -

Marian appears to be stunned at the event itself … Charlie is

sympathetic and practical, asking how I am going to cope and

offering his assistance should I need it. He seems very protective of

Marian … it is nice to see.

Jenna has obviously told Mickey and Duncan that Marian is

here … the boys join us in the lounge very shortly and the talk

becomes more general, which is a relief.

Again, the phone rings … Duncan runs off to answer it, coming

back after ten minutes to tell me that it is my mother.

Excusing myself to Marian and Charlie and leaving them to the

children’s tender mercy, I go to take the call.

‘Maggie, Duncan says that there has been a terrible accident.’

Mum said when I picked up the phone. Yet again, I explain what has

happened. ‘Poor man. He’s going to be all right though, isn’t he?’

379

‘Yes, once the bones have healed.’ I replied, ‘He’s going to

come here when they discharge him from hospital – he won’t be able

to look after himself for a while.’

Mum is silent for a fraction too long … oh hell, is she going to

make a fuss ... I really do not need it tonight.

‘You must do what you think best, Maggie.’ She said

eventually, ‘Perhaps we could come over and see you some time and

meet him.’

‘That’s a good idea, Mum. Let me know when you want to

come over.’ I said, giving in to the inevitable and wondering what

would happen if they came over at the same time as Sam’s parents. I

must be getting light-headed again …

‘But are you all right, Maggie?’ Mum asked, ‘It must have been

a terrible shock when you heard.’

‘Yes, it was, but I’m okay now. People are rallying round and

the kids are being great. We’ll have to give some thought to what we

are going to do at Christmas, Mum … I know I’ve left it rather late to

organise anything but perhaps you would like to come here for

Christmas dinner.’

‘That would be lovely, Maggie. Thank you.’ She said and, after

chatting a little more, she hangs up.

I am tired and lean on the desk for a moment. I hope Marian

and Charlie don’t stay too long … all I want to do is get to bed. I

haven’t rung Sally yet … oh damn … I’ll see her in the morning at

school.

380

When I get back into the lounge, Marian and Charlie are getting

ready to leave … Alleluia!

‘Mum, you look really tired.’ Duncan commented as we close

the door behind our visitors. ‘Why don’t you go to bed? We’ll check

everything is locked up properly.’

Mickey chimes in offering to wash up the crockery we have just

used and Jenna gently accompanies me upstairs, chatting to me while

I get ready for bed. I remember to set the alarm … no mean feat

considering I’m yawning my head off and having trouble keeping my

eyes open … aftermath of the emotional day, I suppose.

‘I’ll check that the lights are all off properly.’ She said, turning

back the duvet for me. ‘I’ll even make sure that the boys clean their

teeth properly.’

‘You are a darling, Jenna.’ I said, sinking back against the

pillows. ‘Thank you.’

‘Goodnight, Aunt Maggie.’ She said then, turning off the light,

she quietly leaves the room and closes the door behind her.

Chapter 21

I’m awake ten minutes before the alarm goes off … tears

running down my face as I try to calm myself down after the dreadful

nightmare I’ve just had … the woman with the dog didn’t turn up and

all I could hear were Sam’s screams. Feeling slightly sick and

horribly tense I stand under the warm water of the shower … it helps

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and, by the time I am getting outside my first coffee of the day, I feel

a little more normal.

Jenna gets herself ready for school in her usual efficient way.

‘I’ll go over to Gran’s after school, Aunt Maggie.’ She said,

scrapping the last of her cereal out of the bowl. ‘Is that okay?’

‘Yes, Jenna. How would it be if I picked you up from there on

the way to visit Sam? Do you think your Gran could give you

something to eat to tide you over until we get home?’

‘I expect so.’ She replied, ‘I’ll have a good lunch, just in case.’

The boys are rather loud this morning … doubtless reaction to

being so good yesterday … or maybe I’m just being over sensitive.

However, they get ready for school efficiently enough … joyfully

reminding each other that they need their football gear.

We get to school slightly earlier than usual – I want to see Sally.

She’s in her office when I get there and thank her for her phone

message. ‘When I saw the news on the TV last night, Maggie, I

wondered … what with Caroline Sykes collecting the kids and

everything.’ She said causing me to speculate on just how many

people know Sam and I are an item. ‘It sounded dreadful on the

news … how is he?’

‘Poorly, but he’ll be okay once the bones knit.’ I replied and

she winces. ‘Ribs and one arm.’

‘Oh, Maggie! That must be ghastly for you … Caroline said

yesterday that it’s a risk with the job … but all the same.’ She said,

clearly empathising with me.

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As I’m walking away from the school, I hear Jan’s voice calling

my name … I’m not in the mood for her sycophancy so pretend I

don’t hear and keep walking.

… Oh Maggie, you idiot! Whatever is wrong with you? This

isn’t like you at all … as I shut the front door behind me, I

contemplate what I shall do with the morning … I know … I’ll go

through the shopping I bought yesterday … a short while later I

reluctantly have to admit my mind is not on the job. I sit back on my

heels, gazing at the lights on the Christmas tree, remembering the fun

we had on Saturday putting it up and hearing Sam’s laughter … again

tears threaten … oh come on you silly woman, get your head

straight! I blow my nose and recite what I’ve got to do today …. I’m

going visit Sam this afternoon … and again with the children tonight

… I ought to do some work on Dave’s bloody accounts but I doubt I

would be able to concentrate ….

The doorbell ringing is a welcome diversion. It’s Fred.

‘Come on in, Fred.’ I said but he declines on the basis of his

boots being covered in muck.

‘Just thought I’d drop round to see how you were.’ He said,

‘Saw the item on the news last night … how is the man? They said he

was in hospital but didn’t go into details.’

‘He’s got some broken bones and is generally beaten up, Fred.’

I replied, appreciating his concern and leaning on the doorpost, my

arms wrapped round me against the chilly air. ‘They hope he’ll be

able to come home in a day or so though. He’s coming here – poor

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bloke isn’t going to be terribly self-sufficient for a while. But how

did you know he’s anything to do with me?’

‘I saw the two of you driving in here on Saturday morning.’

Fred replied, grinning ‘It didn’t take me long to find out who the

black guy was. He’s well thought of.’

‘It’s deserved.’ I said with a sigh,‘He’s one straight guy, Fred.’

‘I’ll look forward to meeting him properly, Maggie. Keep your

chin up, girl.’ Fred said, ‘I’d better be off – here’s your eggs. Let me

know if there’s anything I can do to help.’

‘Thanks, Fred … and thanks for dropping in, I appreciate it.’

With a grin, he touches his old cap and saunters out of the gate.

So the village is talking is it … I tend to forget about that sometimes

… mind you, I’ve not been the cause of the talk much … no wonder

Jan was calling me … she can’t bear to miss out on a bit of gossip.

I’m nervous walking along the corridors of the hospital … he

was so rough yesterday … a glance as I walk into his room tells me

that Sam is looking a lot brighter today; I feel the tension evaporate a

little.

‘How are you feeling?’ I asked, sitting by the bed and taking his

hand. His other arm is properly plastered now. ‘You look better.’

‘The arm is much easier now, though the ribs are iffy.’ He

replied ruefully, ‘My head has stopped aching as well which is

wonderful … though I have strict instructions from the doc not to do

too much reading or watching of TV for a couple of weeks … the

knee is annoyingly wobbly.’

384

‘Oh Sam! Well, I’ve been fielding lots of comments on your

behalf … loads of people send best wishes.’ I told him, trying to

remember everyone and what they have all said. ‘I spoke to your

parents – they took the news remarkably well. They want to come

down and visit you when you’re out of hospital … I said that would

be fine and they are going to let me know when. Your mum sends her

love. Oh, and John is going to sort out your car and get it brought

over to my place.’

‘You have been busy, Maggie. Thank you … were the kids

okay?’

‘Yes, they were as good as gold for Caroline. Duncan says you

can have his room if you like – he offered completely off his own bat.

They want to come in to visit tonight – is that okay?’

Now I’m here the tension is fading fast which is a massive relief

… I don’t usually get wound up like this and I don’t like it.

‘Of course, Maggie, it will be nice to see them. It’s a bit deadly

in here, though I am dozing rather a lot. I suppose that’s the

concussion.’

‘I’m surprised they’ve put you in a room on your own. I

thought there was a shortage of hospital beds.’

‘It’s policy to keep us separate when this sort of thing happens,

Maggie, security and all that. Also it’s easier to keep the media out

than it would be in a large ward.’ Sam explained , ‘I’m sorry, Maggie

… you didn’t realise just what you were taking on … I never thought

about this side of things.’

385

‘No, you didn’t, did you.’ I said woefully, ‘If only I had known

…’ For a moment he looks at me doubtfully, not sure if I am serious

or not. ‘You idiot, Sam Dehaney, as if it would have made a

difference! I just hope you.re not going to make a habit of this sort of

thing.’

‘So do I, believe me!’ he said emphatically ‘If it’s any

consolation, it’s the first time it’s happened.’

‘And the last, I trust.’ I replied tartly. ‘By the way, it’s

common knowledge in the village that you and I are an item.’ He

looks surprised. ‘You’re not used to village life, are you, Sam? I had

Fred Plaister from the farm at the door with my eggs this morning

asking after you.’

‘I don’t think I know him.’ Sam said thoughtfully.

‘He farms the land behind my place … his wife runs a

greyhound sanctuary up there. He saw us on Saturday morning and

made enquiries.’ I explained, ‘He’s looking forward to meeting you

… as are my parents – they send commiserations by the way.’

‘Isn’t that where I start looking nervous and making excuses to

be somewhere else?’ he joked.

‘Possibly … though I don’t see why you should … I’m still

technically married to Matt ... oh he sends his best as well … and just

what are you laughing at Mr Dehaney?’ I asked as Sam splutters with

laughter and then yelps with pain as his ribs react.

‘Damn! Laughing hurts like hell. It’s just the thought … you

don’t lead a very conventional life do you, Mrs Jones?’

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‘I have up to now.’ I replied feelingly as the door to the room

opens and Peter Hammond, the vicar, comes in. ‘Hello, Peter.’

I’ve stopped being surprised by the people who are springing

out of the woodwork now.

‘Hi, Maggie. I was visiting one of my flock and thought I

would come along and see how you’re doing, Sam.’ … they already

know each other … of course they would, silly me … ‘How are you

feeling? The TV news was rather dramatic last night.’

‘I’ve been better, Peter.’ Sam replied, ‘As for the news people,

you know how they jump on anything like this … I expect questions

will be asked on the subject of drug addicts being allowed to carry

sticks, what defence social workers should be able to use - after all a

lot of them are women - and for all I know, on whether there should

be a patrol of elderly women with dogs keeping the streets safe.’

‘Glad to see you haven’t let it affect your sense of humour.’

Peter commented with a grin. ‘How long are they going to keep you

in here?’

‘I’m hoping they will let me out in a day or so. This idiot here

insists I should let her look after me.’

‘Your mother thinks it is a good idea too.’ I protested,

‘Anyway, we’ve been though this before – there’s no way you can

look after yourself at the moment.’

‘Sounds as though you don’t have much choice, Sam.’ Peter

said with a smile, ‘When your mother and your girlfriend gang up on

you, there’s not much hope.’

387

‘You are remarkably unsympathetic for a man of the cloth.’

Sam complained, as Peter grins at him. ‘Ouch … don’t make me

laugh.’

‘Sam, I’ve got to be going to collect the kids.’ I said looking at

my watch, ‘I’ll be back later. I’ll leave you two to talk man talk, shall

I?’

‘Magdalena, if you think you are leaving without kissing me

goodbye, you had better think again. Just because I am not as mobile

as usual, it’s no reason to neglect me.’ Sam threatened, the amused

twinkle in his eyes revealing just how much he is enjoying my

discomfiture as I comply with his request.

As I walk up to the school gate, I am aware of a certain amount

of unaccustomed attention from the gathered mums.

‘How’s Sam today?’ Caroline asked as I reach her side, feeling

a little as though I have run the gauntlet, though no-one has said

anything to my face.

I tell her about my visit this afternoon. ‘I’m taking the kids over

to visit him tonight, Caroline. They suggested it.’

‘Maggie, you’re quite the centre of attention.’ Jan said, joining

us, ‘I didn’t know you were going out with anyone ... let alone a

celebrity.’

‘Well, I didn’t think it warranted a notice in the Chronicle.’ I

replied dryly.

She laughs uncertainly, though Caroline grins appreciatively.

388

‘The TV news said that the social worker who was attacked is a

black guy.’ Jan went on avidly.

‘Yes, Sam’s family originally came from the West Indies.’ I

replied … how could I ever have thought Jan a friend of mine.

‘Though he was born in the UK.’

‘Is it true what they say about black men?’ Jan asked, her eyes

glistening.

‘What do you mean?’ I asked, somewhat taken aback … what

is she talking about?

‘You know … that they are very well endowed.’ She went on.

‘Oh Jan, don’t be so … so suburban.’ Caroline put in, her tone

annoyed.

‘Well, I only asked.’ Jan spluttered defensively.

I see Mickey and Duncan running towards me and, with a quick

grin to Caroline, I gather them up, seething inwardly. Just how

would Jan have reacted if I had told her about her bloody husband and

his suggestions?

‘Are you cross about something, Mum?’ Duncan asked warily

as we wait for the lollipop lady to wave us across the road.

‘Sort of.’ I acknowledged, annoyed with myself that he’s

noticed. ‘Jan was being stupid. It’s nothing to worry about. I saw

Sam this afternoon – he’s looking forward to seeing you tonight.’

Driving away from the hospital later that evening, the kids

chattering happily in the car, I try to concentrate on the driving but

my mind keeps replaying the scene at Sam’s bedside.

389

Sam had been delighted with the chocolates which Jenna had

passed on from Marian and immediately opened them and shared

them with the kids, making me feel as though I was the only adult in

the party … what is it about men? It was after the daft session with

the kids writing messages on Sam’s plaster, that Duncan had dropped

his bombshell.

‘Sam, you can have my room if you like when you come to

stay.’ He’d said, ‘I can share with Mickey.’ He had paused and

looked embarrassed before going on, ‘But if you and Mum want to

share …’ He had faltered to a halt mid-sentence while I just sat there

not knowing what to say. A quick glance at the other kids told me

quite clearly that they’d been talking about this between themselves.

‘That’s very thoughtful of you, Duncan.’ Sam said after a

silence that lasted fractionally too long. ‘I might just take you up on it

– my broken bones mean I’m not sleeping too well at the moment. It

would be unfair to inflict that on anyone.’

The kids exchange glances and again, I reflect on what they

have been saying to each other about this. Sam, reaches over and

takes my hand, squeezing it slightly. ‘Your Mum and I’ll have a talk

about what is best, shall we?’

I brake to let someone cross over the zebra crossing … and drive

on again.

‘Hey, Aunt Maggie, there’s someone by the front door.’

Mickey said as I draw into the drive.

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‘You kids stay here for a moment while I go and see who it is.’

I said, warily getting out of the car and calling across, ‘Can I help

you?’

Two people … a man and a woman … quickly move towards

me. One is carrying a camera.

‘Mrs Jones … we’d just like a quick word with you …’ the

woman said as the man lifts the camera.

‘Put that down!’ I said firmly and to my surprise he does, ‘And

please leave my property.’

‘But we only want a quick word ….’ She persisted.

‘If you are not off my land by the time I count to three, I shall

call the police.’ I said reaching into my pocket for my mobile phone.

‘Now, please leave me and the children alone.’

To my complete amazement, they go. I quickly hustle the

children out of the car and into the house. Shaking slightly, I

immediately call John Boyd and tell him what has happened.

‘Any idea who they were from, Maggie?’

‘No, I didn’t give them a chance to tell me and I couldn’t see

any vans or anything.’ I replied as Jenna comes running down the

stairs calling my name ‘Hang on a mo, John.’

‘There’s an ITV van at the gate, Aunt Maggie. I saw it as I was

drawing my curtains.’ She gasped.

‘John, it looks like ITV.’ I said quickly into the phone. ‘What

should we do?’

391

‘Sit tight, don’t answer the door and keep away from the

windows, Maggie.’ He replied, ‘They can’t hurt you and if they try

filming the kids without permission, we’ve got them. I’ll call you

shortly.’

Feeling besieged, I call the kids down to the kitchen and we get

ourselves some food together. I send the boys into the front rooms to

draw the curtains, with instructions to keep out of sight. They think

it’s very exciting and have a great time crawling across the floor to

the windows. Thank goodness for boys!

As we are sitting down to eat, the doorbell rings. Duncan runs

into the dining room and, lifting one corner of the curtain, peeps out.

‘There’s a man with a camera and one of those big boom things they

use on Time Team, Mum.’ He said when he came back. ‘I think

there’s someone else as well but they’re standing in the porch.’

‘Well, they can’t hurt us.’ I said brightly, ‘Let’s eat our dinner,

shall we?’

The phone rings in the office and, feeling absurdly nervous, I go

to pick it up. It’s John. ‘I’ve been on to the powers that be, Maggie.

They’ll be shifted shortly though the best we can do is to get them off

your property, I’m afraid, that and preventing them filming the kids. I

don’t know who put them onto you.’

‘It could have been anyone, John, it seems to be common

knowledge in the village about Sam and I.’ My thoughts immediately

fly to Jan and that blasted husband of hers. It’s just the sort of thing

he’d do to spite me.

392

A flashing light outside the house draws me over to the window.

Peering round the edge of the curtain I see a police car has pulled into

my drive and the two officers are rounding up the TV people and

suggesting that they move along. I watch as they herd the media off

my land. The doorbell rings again.

‘Mrs Jones?’ the policeman asked.

I nod, inviting them into the house. ‘We’ve moved them on for

the moment, but there’s not a lot we can to about them hanging

around in the road. Do you have a back entrance to the property?’

‘No, not really.’ I replied, ‘It’s open fields behind us.’ Then a

thought strikes me. ‘I could have a word with a friend of mine … he

runs his cows down the road sometimes. That might encourage them

to move away.’

With a grin, the copper agrees that it might work and, wishing

me luck, they leave me to phone Fred, adding that they’ll close my

gates for me.

‘Not a problem, Maggie.’ Fred said , ‘I don’t usually move the

herd this time of day but it won’t do them any harm … I might even

get the bull out … silly old thing is too ancient to do any damage but

he looks pretty impressive. Perhaps your boys would like to come up

the field and meet me halfway along the path in about half an hour.’

‘Fred, you are an angel.’

A little later, Jenna and I sit in the dark peering out of the

window in my bedroom watching the road outside. There are two TV

393

vans and several people carrying cameras and the like milling around

in the road.

‘Aunt Maggie, they’ve seen the cows coming!’ Jenna cried,

pointing out of the window.

She’s right, a couple of the men carrying cameras are starting to

run towards the vans. Fred’s cows have got a serious turn of speed on

them at times, especially when they are encouraged a little and it is

not long before the road is full of cattle milling around … naturally

they are doing what nervous cows do … all over the road. It is all

very confused, with Fred and his cohorts wielding flashlights which

merely add a surreal feel to the scene. We hear one or two of the

women scream as the cows push against the vans – cows are pretty

large animals and they can rock a vehicle without any great difficulty.

They’d never do any harm but it can be a bit scary, especially in the

dark. The streetlights outside are not very bright either.

One of the men starts remonstrating with Fred who, from the

little I can see, does a brilliant impression of a rustic idiot … Jenna

and I laugh ourselves silly.

The boys slide back in through the back door later, filthy dirty

but with massive grins on their faces.

‘Aunt Maggie! One of the women fell over in a great big

cowpat ... it made an awful mess of her clothes.’ Mickey said with

satisfaction, ‘You should have heard her swearing.’

394

‘Where did Fred take the herd?’ I asked, insisting that the boys

wash their hands before they do anything else … though possibly a

bath might be more appropriate.

‘Oh, we drove them through the path which takes you over to

the field by the wood.’ Duncan told me, ‘I heard him telling one of

the men that he has to move the herd several times a day. The silly

man believed him!’

‘Their vans were all muddy by the time the cows had finished.’

Mickey added, ‘It was great fun!’

‘They’d driven away before we’d finished moving the cows,

Mum.’ Duncan said, ‘I don’t think they’ll be back in a hurry. Fred

said to let him know if you need him again.’

Not taking any risks, I drive the kids to school in the morning

earlier than usual and go in to have a word with Sally. She says she’ll

keep an eye open for anyone hanging around the school. It’s unlikely

that they would, but you never know these days.

It feels funny walking along the road towards Sam’s flat. If I’ve

checked that his keys are in my pocket once, I’ve done it a dozen

times, berating myself for being an idiot every time. Once in the

building, I check his postbox … Several letters … that’s obviously

spam … A bank statement, I think … Three brown envelopes which

might be bills … I stow them in my bag … I’ll take them in to him

tonight when we visit.

As I go up the stairs, there’s a very elegant woman walking

down. She gives me a strange look as though saying ‘who are you

395

and what are you doing here?’ I smile at her but she doesn’t say

anything.

I arrive outside Sam’s door … now which key is it? There are

two yale type keys on his key ring … oh well, try both of them.

Naturally, the second one works.

Standing in the hallway, my back to the now-closed door, I

listen to the silence … I feel like an interloper … as though the flat is

saying … ‘what’s she doing here?’

Maggie, now you are being fanciful!

Right, he said there was a bag on top of his wardrobe. The

bedroom is tidy … only a jumper hanging over the back of a chair

indicating that the owner didn’t come back.

Stop it, Maggie! …

Yes, there’s the bag … I have to move the chair to stand on to

get it down. Now then … he’ll need underwear … probably in the

drawers over there ….yes, that’s right ….half a dozen pairs of

underpants ….a similar number of pairs of socks … there’s a handful

of odd ones here in the corner of the drawer … he obviously has the

same problem as I do with Duncan’s socks …

It takes me a fair while to accumulate the clothes I think Sam

will need for the next couple of weeks. It’s difficult not knowing

which are his favourites and which not but I go for toning outfits with

warm being an overriding theme. It doesn’t look as though he has

any slippers … maybe they’re under the bed … oh yes, there they are

… now for toiletries … Samson, you need a new toothbrush! I’ll

396

leave that one here and get another one for him … shower gel …

shaving kit … the faint scent of his body spray hits me taking me

back to the last time I was here in the flat … back to practicalities,

Magdalena!

Charger for his mobile phone … turn TV off – he left it on

standby … there’s a light flashing on his answerphone … should I

play it?

It might be important …

but …

go on, Magdalena …

hesitantly I hit the play button but all that is played back is the

sound of someone who hung up. That’s all right then.

In the kitchen, I go through the fridge, that milk has seen better

days … I’ll take the cheese back with me. I don’t think that half tin of

baked beans is worth keeping …

I turn the radiators down to minimum and the hot water to off …

no point leaving it all going crackers while he is away.

The bag weighs a ton but I can just about manage it. I carefully

check I have his keys in my pocket before pulling the door shut

behind me.

‘How is Sam?’ a voice asked from behind me as I bend to pick

up the bag. Swiftly, I turn to see who it is. A middle aged woman is

standing on the stairs, it looks as though she has just come in. ‘I saw

on the news that he’d been attacked by some yobs.’

397

‘Recovering.’ I replied, not sure how much I should say. ‘He’s

got some broken bones though, so it will take time.’

‘Give him my best when you see him.’

‘Sorry …’ I stammered, ‘I don’t know who you are …’

‘Silly me. Of course you don’t.’ she said with a smile, pausing

on the stairs. ‘I’m Emma from the flat above.’

‘I’ll give him your message, Emma.’ I said, picking up the bag,

wishing I could look as elegant as that.

* * * * * *

‘You brutal woman!’ Sam said, when I tell him about Fred and

the cows.

‘What for setting Fred on them?’

‘No, for making me laugh so much - it hurts like hell.’ He

complained, holding his side gingerly and trying not to laugh.

‘Thanks for getting my stuff from the flat . Was it all okay there?’

‘Yes, absolutely fine. I’ve taken most of it home and just

brought in one outfit … I hope it’s all right. Oh by the way, Emma

sends her best wishes.’

‘Oh, you saw her did you?’ he said, looking up from digging

through the bag I have dumped on the bed. ‘This lot looks fine,

Maggie.’

‘She was going upstairs as I was leaving. Who is she?’ I asked

as I move the bag off the bed again.

‘Emma? Oh she lives in the flat above mine. She runs a very

select dress shop in Milsom Street.’

398

‘I can imagine … she looked very elegant.’ I commented

wistfully. ‘I wish I could look like that.’

‘I’m glad you don’t.’ Sam replied robustly, ‘You’d make me

feel inadequate.’

‘Thanks for nothing! Remind me to ask you next time I need

my ego boosted!’

‘You idiot! Come here and I’ll show you just how much your

ego needs to boosting!’

‘When are they letting you out of here?’ I asked a little while

later, sitting on the bed beside him, his one good arm firmly round my

waist.

‘If I’m a good boy, they think it might be tomorrow. Now look,

Maggie, we need to talk about this … Duncan’s little speech last night

was …’

‘Gob-smacking?’ I suggested as he pauses ,

‘Hmmm … that’ll do. Leaving everything else out of it, I’m

serious when I say that I’m not sleeping well at the moment and I

don’t want to disturb you. So it might be sensible for me to take up

Duncan’s offer … and don’t go all quiet on me. It’s not because I

don’t want to share your bed, Magdalena.’

‘Okay, we’ll give that a go then.’ I said, relaxing slightly …

how had he known that’s what I was thinking? ‘When will you

know whether you can come home tomorrow or not?’

‘After the doctor has done his rounds in the morning, I imagine.

Can you ring about eleven thirty?’

399

‘Yes, I should think so.’ I’ll have to tell Pete I can’t get up to

the unit tomorrow morning … maybe he could bring the stuff down

later on. ‘Sam, I won’t be along for visiting tonight – there’s a

concert at the school.’

‘That’s okay, Maggie, John rang earlier and said he was

bringing some of the office in to see me tonight. I shall not be

unvisited!’ he replied, gently kissing me. ‘It won’t be the same as

having you here but company all the same.’

400

Chapter 22

John’s waiting for me when I get home.

‘I’ve brought Sam’s car over, Maggie.’ He said, following me

into the house. ‘It’s none the worse for wear.’

‘Thanks, John.’ I said with a quick glance at the clock. ‘I’d

offer you a coffee but I’ve got to pick the kids up from school in

twenty minutes.’

‘That’s okay, Maggie. April is picking me up from here in a

few minutes anyway. Any idea when Sam is coming out of hospital?’

‘Probably tomorrow.’

‘Good … would it be all right if I came over to see him

tomorrow evening?’ John asked. ‘I need to talk to him. They’ve

caught the two blokes who attacked him … they were trying to blag

their way onto a cross channel ferry of all things. The police will

want him to identify them.’

‘I’m sure he will be okay about that.’

‘How is he, Maggie? I mean … in himself?’

‘He seems all right.’ I said perplexed … what does he mean?

‘I only ask because it’s likely that he’ll have some sort of

aftermath of reaction, Maggie. Nightmares or something like that.

You’d better watch out for it – he’ll more than likely think it’s some

sort of weakness and Sam doesn’t do that very well.’ He went on

looking concerned. ‘I had a similar incident happen to me twenty

401

years ago, Maggie, it was years before the nightmares disappeared.

We men don’t cope too well when our nerves play up.’

‘I’ll keep an eye on him.’ I promised as April drives in through

the gates.

‘Oh, April will be over to see you sometime for a professional

visit, Maggie. She’s taken over your case.’ He said as we walk out to

her car together. ‘I understand that you’re willing to take on another

child after this particular placement ends.’

‘Yes, did you realise that the grandmother of my two kids is the

woman who is going to job share with Cherry?’

‘No - really?’ he said with a grin ‘Small world, isn’t it?’

‘Do you want a lift down to the school, Maggie?’ April offered.

‘Thanks, that would be nice.’ I replied, checking my keys are in

my pocket.

On the way down I tell them how we dealt with the TV people;

they’re still chuckling as April drives off after leaving me at the

school gate.

It’s Marian’s day for seeing the boys. She’s standing

silhouetted in the light of the doorway as we walk up the path and

ushers us into the warm house. It’s great that she’s looking so much

better nowadays, especially since Charlie came onto the scene. Apart

from the fact that her health is obviously improved, there’s a lightness

about her which is more than just lack of physical problems.

‘How is Sam getting on, Maggie?’ she asked handing me a

steaming mug.

402

‘He’s improving … we’re hoping he’ll be let out of hospital

tomorrow.’ I replied, sipping the warm liquid gratefully. It’s cold

outside and the walk from the school has chilled me.

‘That’s good. Perhaps I could come up and visit him sometime

…’ she asked tentatively.

‘I’m sure he’d like that, Marian. He’s going to be bored stiff

being tied down all the time. Thank goodness we’ve got Christmas

coming – at least he’ll have something to keep him occupied.’

‘Yes, I’ve got to talk to you about the arrangements, Maggie.’

Marian said, ‘Now, you’re sure about me coming to you for

Christmas Day?’

‘Yes, very sure. We’re going to be a big party, Marian. My

parents are coming, Sam and the kids and you. What’s Charlie

doing?’

‘He’s on duty on Christmas Day – they have a certain number of

children who can’t be with their families for one reason or another ,

and he’s giving them a party. He’s coming here on Boxing Day

though.’

‘We’re going over to my parents on Boxing Day, I think. You

don’t mind me taking Jenna and Mickey over there, do you?’

‘Not at all. It is very good of your parents to have them,

Maggie. Now, just run through the arrangements after that, would

you?’

403

‘Duncan and Mickey are flying up to stay with Matt on the 28th

– they’ll be back on the 2nd

Jan, I think. Jenna will come here to you.

Are you still okay about that?’

‘Yes, it will be lovely having her here. Charlie and I are

thinking of taking her up to London to see a show … do you think

she’d like that?’

‘I’m sure she would love it. Which show were you thinking

of?’

‘We thought ‘The Lion King’ would be about right … I’d like to

see it anyway.’

‘I’m sure she’ll love it, Marian.’ I replied with a smile.

‘The doctor says I should be able to have the kids home by the

middle of January.’ Marian said, her eyes shining at the prospect.

‘I’m hoping to start working part time in February – would that fit

with you?’

‘Yes, I think that would be about right, Marian. I’m going to

have a little girl living with us, I think.’ I told her, ‘Funny how

things work out. If I’d not decided to go in for fostering, I’d never

have met you.’

‘No, and I’d not be going back to work … I wouldn’t have met

up with Charlie again either.’ She replied pensively.

‘How’s Glyn doing?’ I asked … I’ve been meaning to ask her

as I feel a little guilty about him

‘He’s fine, Maggie. Charlie says he’s met a teacher from the

comprehensive and is sort of going out with her.’

404

During the evening, I go through all the preparations for

Christmas … all the presents are wrapped and stowed under the tree

… the boys’ air tickets are safely pinned to the noticeboard in the

kitchen … Fred’s going to let me have the turkey on Saturday …

Jenna has nearly finished the cake and the mince pies … Duncan has

made room in his bedroom for Sam to move in … it will be odd him

being here … odd, but nice.

The phone rings and Duncan, who is playing on the computer

with Mickey, picks it up.

‘Mum … there’s a lady on the phone who wants to talk to you

…she says she’s Sam’s mum.’ He said sticking his head round the

door into the kitchen where I am sitting checking my lists of things to

be done. ‘She knew my name, Mum.’

‘I’m sure she did, Duncan.’ I replied, oddly gratified by this

little touch ‘Hello, Mrs Dehaney. How are you?’

‘Fine, Maggie, fine.’ Sam’s mum said warmly, ‘How’s that

boy of mine doing?’

‘He’s probably coming out of hospital tomorrow.’

‘Good … good … Maggie, your offer of us coming to visit …’

she went on, ‘Is that still all right?’

‘Of course, when do you want to come?’

‘I was wondering if we could come on Saturday … would that

be too much of a nuisance … it’s getting close to Christmas and I’m

sure you have loads to do.’

405

‘No, that would be fine, Mrs Dehaney. What sort of time do

you think you will get to Bath? I assume you’ll come by train.’ I

replied, scribbling on a piece of paper

‘Yes, it is easier to do that. My man says the train will get to

Bath Spa at just after eleven.’ She went on, sounding slightly less

tentative.

‘No, problem. I’ll meet you there. I’ll give you my mobile

number just in case there’s a problem, shall I?’

‘You are most kind, Maggie. I am looking forward to seeing

you.’ She replied and I can hear her smiling.

‘I warn you, it’s a bit busy here …’ I warned but she only laughs

saying that she likes children.

‘Is she coming to visit Sam?’ Duncan asked after I have put the

phone down.

‘Yes, on Saturday. I expect Sam’s dad will come too.’

‘Why don’t they come for Christmas?’

‘Well … maybe we can ask them when they come on Saturday,

Duncan.’ I replied wondering just where I would put another two

people … and there’s Sam’s brother as well ...

Still, it’s not a bad idea … assuming we all get on … While I’m

here, I had better ring Pete and see if he can bring the stuff down

tomorrow afternoon.

‘Yes, no problem, Maggie.’ He said when I explained that I

can’t get up to the unit in the morning. ‘I’ll come down about five

shall I?’

406

‘Yes … that’ll be fine, Pete.’

… if Sam is allowed home, I expect it will be early afternoon …

I can get him established here … then go and fetch the boys from

school … they’re breaking up tomorrow … Jenna finishes at

lunchtime but she’s going down to Marian’s for the afternoon,

meeting me at the school … yes, it should all work out.

Oh hell, look at the time.

‘Boys, we’ve got to get back down to the school – run up and

wash your face and hands and tell Jenna we’ve got to leave in ten

minutes. Go on, I’ll turn the computer off.’

The school hall is over half full and the atmosphere electric by

the time we get there. Mickey and Duncan are involved in the

performance and they disappear to their classroom while Jenna and I

look around for some seats. Caroline is there with Bryony and waves

for us to join them. Grateful, we make our way through the throng of

parents.

‘Hi Maggie. How are things?’ Caroline asked as Jenna and

Bryony start chatting about something or other.

‘Busy – what do you expect this time of year? Sam should be

out of hospital tomorrow though.’

‘Great – can I come and visit him sometime next week?’

‘Of course, give me a ring and I shall make an appointment on

his social calendar.’ I answered haughtily …. ‘It’s beginning to feel a

bit like that at the moment. I had his mum on the phone earlier.

They’re coming to visit on Saturday. Have you ever met them?’

407

‘No … though I imagine they must be nice people to have

produced Sam.’ Caroline said very reasonably ‘Nervous?’

‘A bit. This whole thing with Sam coming back to the Old

Farmhouse is …’ I hesitated trying to find the right word

‘Hurried?’ Caroline offered, ‘Premature?’

‘Something like that.’ I agreed with a slight sigh, ‘I’m sure it

will all be fine but it’s going to be odd.’

‘Having second thoughts?’

‘Oh no, not at all.’ I quickly responded, ‘It’s just knocked me

off my balance a little. We’ve decided he’ll have Duncan’s room …

he says he’s not sleeping too well at the moment.’

I went on … only realising that she doesn’t know about me

staying over at Sam’s place after the office dinner … oh damn!

‘Sounds eminently sensible.’ Caroline commented giving me a

quick look, ‘I hope you’ve made appropriate arrangements though,

Maggie, after all it’s just as well to be prepared for eventualities.’ I

stare at her blankly for a moment … what’s she talking about. Her

lips twitch … ‘Prevention being better than cure, Maggie.’ She went

on cryptically.

… oh heavens … I’d not thought of that …

‘I daresay Dr Jim could sort you out with something

appropriate.’

‘Thanks, I’d forgotten about that.’ … I wonder if I could get an

appointment at the doctor’s tomorrow morning before ringing the

408

hospital … mind you, Sam’s not going to be capable of anything

athletic for some time … at least until his ribs and knee heal …

* * * * * *

The news from the hospital is good – I can pick Sam up at 2.00

p.m.

He’s waiting for me in his room, dressed and ready to go.

Characteristically, we fight over who is going to carry his bag … I

win.

‘Your parents are coming to see you on Saturday, Sam.’ I said

conversationally as we walk in a somewhat stilted silence along the

corridor of the hospital … his knee is getting a lot better but he’s still

limping on it. ‘I said I’d meet their train.’

‘That’s kind of you, Maggie.’ He replied; we’re both of us on

edge … not surprising really … we’ve not known each other very

long … a fact which I worried about for too long in the wee small

hours last night.

‘Duncan wondered if they would like to stay for Christmas.’ I

went on valiantly ‘I thought I’d see how it goes before suggesting it.

They might not like me, after all.’

‘Don’t be daft, Maggie.’ He replied as we walk out of the main

entrance of the hospital. ‘Crikey! Has it got colder or have I just got

used to being in warm?’

‘It’s got colder.’ I grinned, ‘Welcome back to the real world.

The car’s over here.’

409

I unlock the car for him, put his bag on the back seat and go

round to the driver’s door. As I get in, I glance at him … he’s still on

edge … I don’t think it’s the situation between us … so what is it?

‘Sam, what’s wrong?’

He sits looking at his hands in his lap for a moment before

replying. ‘Sorry, Maggie. Just the nerves playing up a little. John

said they might.’

I reach over and give his hand a squeeze. ‘It’s bound to have

some effect, Sam, you’ve been through a traumatic experience. Just

as your bones will take a while to recover, your nerves will too. It’s

okay.’ I said, trying to comfort him. Just what does he mean when he

says ‘nerves playing up’ … I don’t know much about this sort of

thing.

‘John said they’ve caught the two men.’ Sam said, obviously

not wanting to talk about it any more. ‘I’ll have to go and identify

them.’

‘Yes, he mentioned that when I saw him.’ I replied, steering the

car into the traffic. ‘Did you have a good time with the office lot last

night?’

‘Yes, it was nice to see them. April’s going to come over to see

you tomorrow about that placement I mentioned to you, I think.’

‘Caroline said she wants to pop in, she thought probably

Monday.’

The traffic is pretty heavy … must be Christmas shoppers.

410

He’s looking decidedly shaky by the time we get back to the Old

Farmhouse. Mind you, it’s probably the longest he’s been out of bed

for some days.

I have to help him out of the car but he gets across to the house

unaided … determined to, by the look of it. I follow with his bag and

close the door on the winter afternoon, putting his bag down on the

floor. He’s standing struggling to undo the zip on his jacket – his

right hand is hampered by the plaster and he is clearly finding the

whole thing very frustrating.

‘Here, let me.’ I said, going to help him.

I unzip him and hold the jacket while he takes it off. His jaw is

rigid …

‘Sam.’ I said gently, putting my arms round him. ‘Go easy on

yourself.’

‘I just feel so helpless.’ He said his exasperation showing. I

hug him, trying not to hurt his ribs. ‘Oh Maggie, I’m not going to be

particularly easy to live with, I’m afraid.’

‘So?’ I replied, kissing the end of his nose and actually raising a

half smile from the man.

His left arm goes round me. ‘Can’t you do better than that?’ he

asked plaintively.

* * * * * *

I leave him unpacking his bits and pieces in Duncan’s room,

while I go to collect the children from school. He seems a little more

411

like his usual self now. Even so, I ponder on the situation all the way

to school.

The boys are pretty hyper when they burst out of the classroom

looking for Jenna and I. It seems they had a good party in their class.

‘You mustn’t bounce all over Sam.’ I warned as we neared

home.

The front door opens as we get to it, ‘I was watching for you.’

Sam said with a smile, making my stomach turn flip flops … it is a

long time since anyone was waiting at home for me.

‘Sam ... we had a brill party today.’ Duncan started and, with

Mickey throwing in extra details, he relates the events of the day

while Jenna escapes upstairs to get out of her school uniform. I herd

my men into the kitchen where Sam can at least take the weight off

that knee of his, and feed them all biscuits while the boys go on at

length about the party. I catch Sam’s eye at one point and he beams

at me, I shouldn’t have worried … this hefty dose of family life is

doing him good.

The house is a lot quieter by the time Pete arrives with his

paperwork. He’s looking a lot smarter than usual … I wonder if he’s

going out somewhere… I usher him into the kitchen where Sam is

talking to Jenna.

‘Pete, I don’t know if you know Sam Dehaney.’ I said

introducing them.

‘No … we’ve not met.’ Pete said shortly. ‘Aren’t you that

social worker who was on the news?’

412

‘Yes,’ Sam replied, looking clearly at Pete. ‘Unfortunately so

… Maggie has very kindly taken me in until I am fit to fend for

myself.’

I look from one man to the other … what’s going on?

‘Coffee, Pete?’ I suggested, ‘Is there much work to be gone

through?’

‘Yes, I’d love a coffee, thanks Maggie.’ He replied, opening the

box he’s brought with him. ‘It’s mostly the usual stuff … but there’re

some extra invoices for Christmas displays and a couple of trees.’

‘Are you closing down at all for Christmas?’ I asked, handing

him his coffee and looking through the papers. ‘Can you sign some

cheques for me, Pete … six should do it, I think.’

‘Yes, sure. I’m only closing for two days – Christmas Day and

Boxing Day. I’m going down to see the parents.’

‘Oh, that will be nice for you – is your mother any better?’

‘Yes, she’s a lot better thanks, Maggie.’ Pete replied, ‘What are

you doing for Christmas?’

‘We’re having Marian, the kids’ grandmother, and my parents

here for Christmas dinner.’ I said cheerfully, ‘Sam’s parents are

coming to visit him on Saturday too.’

‘Sounds hectic.’ Pete said, casting a glance at Sam who is

sitting almost relaxed at the table; Jenna’s disappeared somewhere.

‘Yes, but it all quietens down after Boxing Day, Pete.’ I went

on, ‘The boys are going up to visit Matt for a week and Jenna is going

to stay with her Gran.’

413

‘So it will just be the two of you.’ Pete commented

expressionlessly.

‘Yes, we were thinking of going away somewhere warm, but

with me crocked up, that’s out of the question.’ Sam put in. ‘ If the

weather’s decent, we might be able to get out if I can twist Maggie’s

arm into driving.’

‘I see.’ Pete said, exchanging a long look with Sam. ‘Well, I

hope you have a lovely time.’

He doesn’t stay long.

‘Poor bastard!’ Sam commented as I walked back into the

kitchen after showing Pete out.

‘What do you mean?’ I asked blankly, clearing away the empty

mugs.

‘Oh Maggie, don’t be so blind. The poor guy’s in love with you

… I came as a nasty shock to him.’

‘Nonsense!’ I retorted, ‘I daresay I haven’t mentioned you to

him … Though I know I told him I was going out last Friday night.’

‘And how did that come up?’

‘He asked me if I wanted to go out for a drink. Sam, don’t be

daft, he’s in love with someone else … he told me so.’

‘And what exactly did he say?’ Sam asked hobbling over to the

sink where I am washing up.

‘He told me that he was in love with a woman but that he didn’t

know if she cared for him or not … I asked him why he didn’t ask her

out and he said that they were good friends and that he didn’t want to

414

lose that … oh …’ I faltered … ‘But he never gave me the slightest

idea …’

‘That guy was as jealous as they come, Maggie.’ Sam said …

‘Would it have made a difference if you had known how he felt?’ I

think back to that evening at the unit … seeing things in the light of

this revelation … ‘Go on, tell me all about it.’

‘I had a bit of a thing about him, Sam. It never came to

anything … in fact, I don’t think it ever would have done … It upset

me when I thought he was in love with someone else … I’d woven a

bit of a daydream round him … but then you came along and that all

faded into the background.’ I explained ‘He bailed me out when I

was in trouble ... just before you asked me out, in fact.’

‘How was that?’ he asked, handing me the towel so that I can

wipe my hands.

‘I locked myself out of the house.’ I admitted, going on to tell

him how Pete had insisted that I stayed at his flat ‘He never gave me

the slightest inkling that he cared for me at all, Sam.’

‘Missed his chance there, didn’t he?’ Sam said ruminatively,

‘Lucky for me that he did though … unless you’ve changed your

mind now that you know.’

‘You do say some silly things, Mr Dehaney.’ I said, putting my

arms round him and resting my head on his shoulder.

‘Are you sure, Maggie? You can change your mind, you know.’

I thought about the two men for a moment … a very brief

moment. ‘I’m sure, Sam.’ I said raising my face to be kissed.

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