'Of course I will.'
She smiled at the solemn little face peering out from beneath the quilt. He was still only a little boy after all, even if he was long past three.
'What books have you got, Sean?'
He handed her a thick, battered paperback he took from the shelf above his bed.
'This one, please.'
'It's a big book,' she said dubiously, thinking she wouldn't be able to read him much of that even if she was here a month. 'Watership Down? What's it about?'
'Rabbits,' he said quickly.
'Are you sure …?'
'Yes,' he said quickly. 'Just a few pages.'
A marker stuck out a little past half-way.
'Has somebody else been reading this to you?' she asked, turning to the marked page.
'Yes,' he said. 'But not recently.'
'And you like it?'
'Yes. It's my favourite.'
She nodded and began to read, wondering, as she did so, who had left the page marker.
Sean fell asleep quickly, too. Meg carefully laid the book down on the bedside table. Then she picked it up again and opened the front cover. "Elizabeth Hardwick, Christmas 1976", she read.
*
She had made herself a cup of coffee and was sipping it when she heard a key in the front door. She got up and looked into the hall in time to see Robert closing the door after him.
'Everything all right?' he asked quietly, seeing her waiting.
'Fine. No problems at all.'
She would have liked to ask how his evening had been but didn't want to sound as if she was prying.
'I was just having a cup of coffee,' she said instead.
'I'll join you.'
Before she could say she would get it, Robert had grabbed the kettle.
'Well,' he said, sitting down on the other side of the table with a steaming mug. 'I can't hear them. So they must be asleep. Either that or they've gone out?'
'Asleep,' she chuckled. 'Kirsty first. Then Sean. I read to them but that didn't last long. They must have been tired.'
Robert nodded. 'Did they say anything? Tell you anything, I mean,' he added, as he saw the question forming on her lips.
She shrugged. 'They talked to me, but not in the way I imagine you mean.'
She waited. It wasn't up to her to initiate a discussion he might not want to have.
He rubbed his eyes with his hands. He looked more tired than ever. But he gave her a wry smile. 'You must think I'm a worn-out old man!' he suggested.
She shook her head. 'I can see you're a very tired one, though, which is not surprising in the circumstances.'
'Circumstances? What circumstances?' he demanded brusquely, the smile gone completely.
'Oh, I'm sorry!' she said hastily. 'I didn't mean to pry. And I don't know anything about your circumstances, except that you seem to be looking after the children yourself.'
She got up and collected her things, ready to leave.
'I'm sorry, Meg,' he said with a sigh. 'I didn't mean to sound rude. It's just that I'm exhausted, and I've had a very difficult evening.'
'That's all right. I'll be on my way now. It's getting late.'
'Yes. So it is. Thanks a lot for coming over. I don't know what I'd have done without you. I'll call a cab. I'd like to run you home but I don't want to leave the kids alone.'
'It's all right, Robert. I'll catch a bus.'
'No. Let me phone for a cab. It's the least I can do.'
While they waited, Robert made an effort to bridge the gap that had developed between them. It was hard going. Meg was glad when the front door bell signalled the arrival of the taxi.
'You were right, by the way,' he said at last. 'I am on my own with them.'
'You told me that.'
'Liz, my wife, passed away a couple of years ago. It's been a struggle since then for us all.'
Meg was shocked. 'Oh, I'm so sorry, Robert,' she said. 'I had no idea. No-one in the office has ever said…’
'They don't know.' He shrugged and added, 'I never said anything.'
She stared at him until the doorbell woke her up again. Then she grimaced and said, 'You really are doing very well. I admire you.'
'There's nothing much to admire. But I'm doing my best. Anyway, I thought you should know what the situation is. The least I could do, given that you've given up your evening.'
Doing his best? she thought as the taxi sped her home. It was a very good best. Suddenly her own problem seemed a small one in comparison.
Chapter Five
'Pregnant? I can't be!'
Meg's GP, Dr. Ella Armstrong, chuckled and said, 'If I had a pound for every time one of my patients has said that ….'
Meg stared at her.
'You really didn't guess?'
'No. I ….'
'No clues? No morning sickness, for example? No feeling dizzy?'
'Well, yes. But I thought …. There are other things going on in my life. It didn't occur to me that this might be the reason.'
Dr. Armstrong nodded and looked down at her notes. Meg could see she had limited time for, and interest, in non-medical things.
'Well, Meg. You're fit as a fiddle. There's nothing wrong with you. So you and your baby should have a happy and interesting few months. Now I don't want to rush you but …. You need to get along home and share your good news with your husband. He's going to be delighted, isn't he?'
Meg nodded non-committally. Jamie? Delighted?
She got up, but she had no idea what to do next.
*
At the end of the week she decided to visit her parents. They lived in a small village in Northumberland, near Alnwick. More a hamlet than a village, though it gloried in the name of Great Newton. It was a place she had been unable to wait to get away from when she was at school, but it was still her home. Whenever she returned, she felt that keenly. She even suspected she might return for good one day. But not just yet.
This time she was visiting because she simply couldn't bear the thought of another weekend on her own in the house, and because she had to talk to someone other than Jenny about what was going on.
Her mother hugged her as if she had been away a year, not a few weeks.
'Don't fuss, Mum!' Meg laughed.
'What do you expect? Of course I'm going to fuss! I haven't seen you for ages.'
'A few weeks.'
'Absolutely ages!'
They wandered into the big kitchen of Bracken Cottage. With its wood-burning stove, that had always been the centre of family life. Meg shivered with pleasure at the heat and gazed around appreciatively.
'Oh!' she said. 'That's new.'
She was staring at the big pine table she hadn’t seen before.
'Do you like it?'
'It's lovely.'
She walked over to run her hand along the smooth edge.
'Well, the old one had got a bit rickety. It was scratched and knocked about as well. So we decided to treat ourselves. I got it in the sales after Christmas. It will be handy when you're all here next Christmas, won't it?'
Meg nodded but didn't say anything. So far as she was concerned, next Christmas was as good as cancelled.
'And what about you, love? Any news?'
Meg shook her head. Not yet, she decided. She couldn't say anything yet. She didn't know where to start.
'Where’s Dad?'
'Down the garden somewhere. Go and see if he wants to join us for a coffee.'
'If I can find him.'
'He'll be there. Where's Jamie, by the way? Is he not with you?'
For a moment she almost said : no, he isn't. Not any longer. Not any more. Not at the moment, anyway. Then she shook her head and made for the back door, still unsure what, if anything, she wanted to say about Jamie.
She breathed in deeply as soon as she was outside, and paused to take stock. Bracken Cottage had been built in the early years of the nineteenth century, like so many of the local houses. Originally, the village had been an
estate village, owned by the Duke of Northumberland, but most of the houses were now in private ownership. Attractive, they were, too, with their dressed stone walls and slate roofs. As ever, Meg couldn't help comparing them favourably with the cramped city streets where her life was lived now.
The garden was long and narrow. Originally, again, it had been one of the strips of land awarded to men who had served loyally in the Duke's own regiment during the Napoleonic Wars. Now, with its herbaceous borders, the vegetable plot and the fruit trees along the edges, it gave Meg's father ample scope for escape into the open air he loved.
She set off down the garden, following the new paving stones that not long ago had replaced the cinder path of her childhood. Inevitably, she smiled. Then she chuckled and shook her head. She only had to set foot in the garden for happy memories to come flooding back.
This was the land where she had first explored exotic places and encountered strange people. It was where she had learned how to trap man-eating tigers and hunt – but not kill! – antelope and zebra, buffalo and giraffe. It was where she had learned how to live off the land, on raspberries and lettuce leaves, and apples and plums, and even turnips. At least until dinner was ready. So much to recall from those distant days.
'Here you are, Dad!'
He looked up and turned towards her, and his face lit up with astonishment and delight at the sight of her.
'Meg? What a surprise! How are you, pet?'
'Fine, thanks. What about you? What are you up to?'
They grinned at each other. Then they stepped forward, to exchange hugs and kisses.
When they parted, her father gestured at the Leylandii hedge that helped keep marauding cattle and sheep out of the garden. Sunlight, as well.
'I''m just having a go at this little lot before it gets completely out of control.'
'But it's only twenty feet high!'
He laughed. 'Aye. Sometime I think it's more trouble than it's worth. One of these days I'll have it all down. Replace it with some of that nice, modern barbed wire.'
'That'll look nice! Come on in and have a coffee with Mum and I before you start.'
He grinned, laughed out loud and started shepherding her back towards the house.
*
She told them. It hurt, but she told them. Everything. Sitting round the new kitchen table, mugs of coffee in front of them, she told them first about Jamie.
In the silence that followed, she could hear the clock in the living room ticking out the moments of their lives. She could hear a tractor in a distant field. Somewhere sheep bleated. She could hear her father breathing heavily, and giving off a little wheeze at the end of each outward sigh, just like he always had done.
The chair scraped as her mother got up and came round the table to hug her.
'I'm so sorry, love. How terrible. You must feel awful.'
Awful? She supposed she did really. Or she had done. Now she wasn't sure. She was getting used to it.
'Have you talked to him?'
'Not really, no. He hasn't given me the chance. On the couple of occasions he's rung up, it's just been because he wanted something. No, we haven't talked.'
'Perhaps you should?'
'It's not easy. I don't even know where he is.'
'How long's he been gone?' her father intervened.
'A week or two.'
'And this is the first you've mentioned it to us?'
He sounded angry. Meg didn't know if it was with her or Jamie.
'Leave it, Billy!' her mother said crisply. 'Now's not the time for that.'
'I'd like to get my hands on him,' her father said. 'I would!'
He pushed his chair back and got to his feet.
'There's something else, Dad.'
He looked at her. So did her mother.
'I'm expecting a baby.'
That news brought another stunned silence. For a moment, at least.
Then her mother clapped her hands, as if with delight. Her father stared at her with astonishment, and then with a broad grin.
'You come on home, Meg, love,' he advised. 'We'll look after you. Never mind that no-good husband of yours. I never did care for him much anyway. A grandson, eh?' he added with a chuckle.
'I don't know that, Dad.'
'Oh, it will be. I've no doubt at all.'
'Well, I have,' Mum intervened.
Suddenly, the atmosphere in the kitchen had changed. Meg had dreaded telling them about the baby, especially when the announcement was fastened on to the news about Jamie, but now she felt glad. She felt happy. Here, at least, was one place where she wasn't alone. It felt so good to be home.
Chapter Six
Something had woken her. She didn't know what, though, and for a few moments she lay still, listening hard, puzzled. Then she heard it again. The door chain! It was rattling. Someone was trying to get through the front door.
She was petrified. She held her breath and listened, not wanting to hear but unable not to hear. She bit the duvet to stop herself screaming with panic.
She glanced at the clock. Half-two. If only she had her mobile with her! But it was downstairs in her bag, which was in the kitchen, She didn't know what to do.
But she had to know who it was. She had to!
Terrified, she forced herself to get out of bed. She left the light switch alone. Light from the street lamps was enough for her to see her way out of the bedroom. She poised on the landing and gazed down the stairs. The inner door in the hall was closed. Did that mean whoever it was had not got inside yet?
She waited until she heard the chain rattle again. Then, suddenly emboldened, because the noise was coming from the other side of the front door, she made her way downstairs.
She opened the inner hall door and stared at the big, solid front door. The chain was still in place. And the bolt. But someone was fiddling with the lock. She took a deep breath and switched all the lights on she could reach.
'Go away!' she yelled. 'I'm calling the police.'
The BT phone was in the hall. She grabbed it and began dialling 999, unable to recall if that number had changed.
'Meg! Is that you?'
She paused, frozen. Then she dropped the phone and her hand flew to her mouth. Jamie!
'Open the door, Meg.'
'What do you want?'
'Come on, Meg! Open the damned door.'
'What do you want, Jamie? It's the middle of the night.'
'It never is. No, no, no. That's all wrong. It's … early yet.'
She grimaced. She recognised the signs. He'd been drinking.
'Go away, Jamie! I mean it. I'm calling the police. I've called them. They're on their way.'
Stand-off. It continued for several minutes. Then there was quiet. She listened. Was he there still?
A car door slammed. The engine started with a roar. The car took off at speed.
She slumped against the wall, exhausted and scared she'd done the wrong thing. Too late, it occurred to her Jamie was probably in no state to be driving. She should have let him in.
*
'So what happened?' Robert asked.
'How do you mean?'
'Well, something has changed in your life. That's obvious.'
She glanced around at the lunch-time crowd, playing for time.
'It's very busy here,' she said, seeing the lines of customers with their trays, the occupied tables everywhere and the harassed staff frantically clearing space for new arrivals.
'Isn't it?'
She knew he was still staring at her, demanding an answer. She sighed and returned his gaze. They looked at each other, and, unaccountably, began to laugh.
'It's not funny!' she protested.
'No, it's not.'
'I don't know why I'm laughing.'
'Relief, probably,' Robert suggested. 'I'm someone you can tell.'
'Oh? You?'
'Me.'
'Really?'
'It means you don't have to keep it to yourself any more. You don'
t want to bother other people or have them speculating, but they do anyway. Speculate, that is. Not knowing the facts doesn't stop them talking.'
She thought there was a lot in that. Others in the office would be aware something had happened, something was different. They would have picked up bits and pieces, and they would have filled in the gaps themselves. Robert was right. So why not tell him?
'Jamie left me,' she said. 'A few weeks ago.'
'Oh, I'm sorry, Meg.' He grimaced. 'I did wonder …. Any particular reason?'
She shook her head. 'None I know about. He just …. just wanted a change, I expect.'
It sounded an unlikely explanation even to her. Not for the first time, she wondered if there was another woman involved.
'No chance of a reconciliation?
'I don't think so. Not now. There's nothing there any more. I'm over wanting him back, and I'm over blaming myself for him leaving.'
She looked up.
Robert said, 'I know what it's like, being on your own.'
'Elizabeth?'
He nodded and added, 'When she died I was devastated.'
He looked it now, too. It wasn't the same thing, though, she thought. Not at all. Worse, probably.
'I had to change something in my life,' he continued. 'So I changed jobs and came here, where people didn't know anything about me. I couldn't bear the thought of any more fuss and sympathy. I just wanted to do my job, and go home to my kids at the end of the day.'
He's just like me, she thought with surprise. I haven't wanted people being sorry for me either.
'Don't ask me why,' he added. 'I can't explain it. I can't explain anything. Not any more.'
'I understand,' she said, touching the back of his hand lightly with her fingers.
He looked her in the eyes and smiled. 'I think you do,' he said softly. 'I really think you do.'
'I've got another problem at the moment,' Robert said. 'I need to go out again tomorrow night, and I was wondering…'
'Need a babysitter?'
'Well, I don't. But…’
'Kirsty and Sean might?'
He nodded and chuckled. 'They liked it when you came that other time. They've never stopped talking about you.'
'Oh?'
'Good things!' he hastened to add. 'They really took to you.'
Days Like These Page 3