Sarah Love

by Geraldine O'Neill

  “Did you regret it when it finished?”

  “It didn’t really hit me at the time. In fact, I think if I’d put up a fight for him – said I’d realised how badly I’d treated him, and how I would make more of an effort – I’m sure I could have wooed him back because I know he did love me. But I didn’t even try. I suppose I thought I’d meet someone like him or even better.” She lifted her teacup and took a sip. “Unfortunately it was just after that I met Charlotte’s father.”

  The bitter tone in Lucy’s voice made Sarah glance up at her. Apart from the obvious tension in her face, she had unconsciously gripped the linen napkin and scrunched it into a ball in the palm of her hand.

  “I’ve told you everything else,” Lucy said, “but I have to tell this part quickly because I still find it very, very difficult. I met him in the office when I came back to Newcastle. He was one of the main customers, a well-dressed, fine-looking man from Manchester. When he came up to Newcastle he always stayed in one of the city-centre hotels, and he asked me to join him for dinner or the theatre on a few occasions. In the beginning I refused, because everyone knew he was married, although as time went on it was mentioned that he had separated from his wife.” She halted, her voice faltering. She looked down at the crumpled napkin in her hand, and then she shook it out and put it back on the table. “But, because I was struggling at home with my father and didn’t have any single friends I could go out with, one night I agreed to go to a concert with him. I reasoned that as long as I kept it on a platonic basis it wouldn’t do any real harm.” She shook her head. “A big, serious mistake . . . I didn’t realise that this handsome, well-dressed biddable man had another side to him.”

  The waitress came over to check if they wanted more tea or hot water.

  Sarah looked over at Lucy. “I think we’re okay, aren’t we?”

  “Yes, yes,” Lucy said nodding her head vigorously. She waited a few seconds until the waitress had moved on to another table. “Anyway . . . after about three or four trips to the theatre or cinema, I had a meal in his hotel and I stupidly went back to his room.” She closed her eyes. “This still sounds unbelievable but . . . we were hardly inside the bedroom door when he pinned me to the bed and . . .” She had to stop to collect herself. “Looking back, there are no other words to describe what happened, other than he raped me . . .”

  “Oh, my God!” Sarah gasped. “Did you report him?”

  “That,” Lucy said, “is where all reason totally left me.” She lifted the napkin again and started to twist it between both hands. “He convinced me that it was my fault for having strung him along for months, he convinced me that he was only being rough because he had been so frustrated.” Her face was totally anguished now. “And because I was so naïve, stupid, desperate for affection – I continued to see him.”

  “Oh, Lucy . . .” Sarah couldn’t find the words.

  “I can’t explain what I saw in him apart from his looks and his charming manner, and I cannot excuse the pathetic way I behaved.” She shook her head. “The abusive way he treated me I now know wasn’t lovemaking – it was weird and controlling and at times physically unpleasant.” She lifted the napkin to her face. “There were times when he made me do the most appalling things . . .” Tears slid down her face.

  Sarah reached forward to put a hand on top of hers. “It’s a long time ago – it doesn’t matter now.”

  Lucy nodded and dabbed her face with the napkin. “Then, one weekend we had a huge row and he told me it was all finished, that he had reconciled with his wife and she was expecting a baby in the next few months. It shows you how bad things were, that my only feeling was one of relief. He got transferred down south somewhere and just as I felt I was getting back on my feet, I discovered I was pregnant with Charlotte.”

  “Did you tell him?” Sarah asked.

  “No,” Lucy said. “I couldn’t bear to.” She hesitated. “You won’t like this, Sarah, but initially, I wasn’t going to keep the baby. I’m afraid I considered the exact same solution as Vivienne – an abortion.”

  Sarah tried to keep her face impassive – tried not to show how shocked she felt. “It must have been difficult for you . . .”

  Lucy nodded and gave a bitter laugh. “You have no idea. Anyway, it was ten years ago and I wasn’t as worldly-wise as your friend and I didn’t go through with it. I didn’t have anyone to advise me where I could go to have an abortion – and if it happened again today, I still wouldn’t have a clue. My father was horrendous to me when he found out – he still is – he’s never forgiven me. You see, I had only just explained to my mother that I was pregnant and unfortunately within a few months she deteriorated and died. The doctors said it was the cancer which had spread through her, but my father chose to believe that the shock of my pregnancy killed her, And even though he’s losing his mental faculties now, it’s one of the things he still remembers.” She closed her eyes for a few moments, then composed herself again. “Anyway . . . before my condition became obvious, I left the office and moved back to London. My grandparents had both died, but I had an aunt who was sympathetic, so I stayed with her until Charlotte was born.”

  Sarah listened as Lucy went on to explain how the baby had been rushed to a special hospital unit to be assessed, and how she had then suffered from severe post-natal depression for almost a year when she discovered that the child had Spina Bifida and epilepsy and all the other complications. Trying to cope with a sick baby had made things more difficult and eventually she was advised that long-term specialist care was the only solution. She was still deciding what to do when her aunt in Newcastle died, leaving Harrison’s shop to the family. The unit outside Durham – Meadow Hall – was regarded as one of the best in the country for children like Charlotte.

  “So,” Lucy said, sounding exhausted, “my life has revolved around my visits to Charlotte ever since.”

  “It must get on top of you at times,” Sarah said.

  “Yes, especially since my father has started to decline. A few years ago I’m afraid I just caved in with a complete nervous breakdown. I was in hospital for two months.” She looked at Sarah. “I was off work for about six months altogether. I just couldn’t face people, couldn’t face going out of the house. Of course, that’s when the shop went downhill. Miss Shaftoe, Mary, couldn’t manage on her own. She did her best, but she wasn’t too good with the customers and a lot of them drifted away.”

  “But things did improve,” Sarah said. “And you did get back to work.”

  “Yes, indeed – that’s when Harriet came out to see me in her District Nurse capacity. She was the first person who took a real interest in me. She got me up and dressed and brought me newspapers and magazines. She got me to buy a television and to start listening to the radio and music. Bit by bit I found my old self again.” She went to say something then stopped and her face clouded over again. “To be honest, I’m still not a hundred per cent . . . I’m still on medication and I still take tablets most nights to help me to sleep. I’m sure you’ve noticed odd little things, Sarah?”

  “I’ve noticed a big change in you since I first arrived – a big improvement.”

  “Good!” Lucy said. “I’m glad because I feel the best I have in ages. When things are running smoothly with the shop and Charlotte is well, I feel great – but it only takes a difficult visit with my father and I seem to go backwards again.”

  “From the way you’ve described him, I think anyone would feel the same,” Sarah said gently. “I think you’re to be admired for still caring for him after the way he’s been with you.”

  Lucy looked at Sarah now. “Do you think I’m an awful person – after hearing all this? I know you struggled with the situation with Vivienne, and I just couldn’t be a hypocrite and keep silent about my own experiences. I feel better that I’ve told you, that there are no secrets between us. We spend almost every day together and it was difficult keeping all these huge things hidden. I dreaded Thursdays, knowing you were ob
viously wondering who I was visiting in Durham.” She paused for breath. “After all this, you probably think at the least that I’m very stupid and naïve? Or maybe you think I’m wicked for contemplating getting rid of Charlotte? Some people might even think it’s my fault that she’s so badly handicapped. My father says it was a punishment from God for my behaviour.”

  Sarah felt her chest tighten. That was exactly the sort of thing that people back in Ireland might say. “Lucy,” she said, moving out of her chair, “I think none of those things about you.” She put her arms around Lucy now, oblivious to the people at the other tables. “You’re one of the nicest, kindest people I’ve met in my whole life, and a wonderful, loving mother.”

  “Thank you,” Lucy whispered, “Thank you, thank you . . . thank you.”

  Chapter 34

  Harrison’s re-opened the following week, although decorating work was still continuing on upstairs. Sarah and Lucy came into the shop an hour early to wash down shelves and counters and try to get the place back into some sort of order.

  “I can’t believe the size of it,” Lucy said as they walked around the downstairs area.

  “It’s very deceptive,” Sarah said. “When you come in first it looks the same, but then you see the openings on either side of the counter wall, and you realise that there is another area almost the same size behind.” She went towards the back area. “I’m so delighted with the new changing room. It’s much more private and the way the door swings out means you can measure customers without everyone else seeing it.”

  Lucy’s eyes scanned the open area that used to be the kitchen. “The new counter down here for measuring and showing customers large pieces of material is much bigger than the one we have at the till. It just means we can move about more freely without being on top of each other. We’ll know just how big it is when we get the stock back into place. We’ve got lots of shelves and the pigeon-hole boxes are perfect for displaying the wool and craft items.”

  Sarah grinned at her. “I’m really excited about it! I can’t wait to see how things look when they’re all in their new places.” She took her coat off. “Let’s get started straight away.”

  Lucy put her hand on her hips and raised her eyebrows. “Now, Miss Love,” she said in mock-seriousness, “I believe it should be the employer who gives the orders and not the worker!”

  Sarah laughed. “I’m sure there’s no better woman to put me back in my place if I step out of it.” She held up her coat and bag. “Now, where are we hanging up our belongings, since the coat-stand seems to have disappeared along with the kitchen?”

  “There’s a little cloakroom upstairs,” Lucy said, moving towards the back of the shop. “Let’s go up.”

  Their steps echoed loudly as they went up the wooden stairs, bare since the workmen had removed the red-and-black striped runner. There was a smell of fresh wood in the air and a thick layer of pale yellow sawdust on the stairs and the handrails.

  “Let’s check how the kitchen is looking,” Lucy said. “That’s the most important place for us.” She opened the stripped pine door and went in. “My goodness!” She stood in silence looking around her.

  Sarah followed her in, then they both walked around looking at the pink, freshly plastered walls, opening the pine wooden cupboards and checking out where the electric points were.

  “This is much better than I envisaged,” Lucy said. “And it’s almost finished.”

  Another door in the corridor opened into a small cloakroom, which then led on to a bathroom with a full porcelain floral suite of sink, lavatory system and a curved bath on gold legs.

  Sarah looked around her. “This is beautiful! Was there a bathroom here before?” Her voice was high with surprise.

  “No, but Peter Spencer advised me to have one put in now. He said if I ever wanted to let the rooms out up here, then it would be more difficult to put a bath in later.”

  They had a look at the good-sized stockroom and then went to investigate the rooms on the other side of the corridor.

  In the first bedroom there were two windows on the back wall which looked out over the tops of the immediate buildings and then further back towards Grey Street and the tall monument. A new shiny black cast-iron fireplace had been installed with a tiled insert featuring delicate stemmed cream, pink and purple flowers, and there were new cupboards fitted in either side of it, just waiting to be painted.

  Sarah immediately thought if she had a free hand in the decorating, she would pick out the cream in the flowers to paint the cupboards, doors and skirting boards. Apart from a few new electric sockets, the rest of the room was bare.

  “This will probably be a double bedroom,” Lucy said. “There’s another – more like a box room in size.”

  “This isn’t that small,” Sarah said, laughing, as she surveyed the “box room”. “This is bigger than the bedroom I had back in Ireland!”

  “It’s not a bad size.” Lucy looked thoughtful. “I’m sure it could be used for lots of things.”

  They moved to the last room at the end of the corridor, the sitting-room which was at the front of the building. It was more than double the size of the biggest bedroom and had a steel-grey, ornate cast-iron fireplace and a lovely bay window.

  “Gosh, the window is huge,” Sarah said, walking over to look down onto Pilgrims Lane. She examined the wooden shutters which had been stripped back to the bare wood for painting, then she patted the wooden window seat which followed the curve of the window. “I particularly like this. It’s a real feature and handy for storage.”

  “I thought if we got pads and cushions made to match the curtains it would look nice,” Lucy said. “I’m going to buy new furniture for all the rooms. The stuff that was already here was damp and beyond repair. I told them to get rid of the lot.”

  “That sounds very expensive,” Sarah said.

  “It will be worth it. As Peter Spencer said, if I let the place fall into disrepair, I’ll only lose money on it in the long run.” She suddenly smiled. “I’m quite excited about doing it all up. And that shows how much better I feel. Six months ago I would have felt totally overwhelmed with the slightest change in things.”

  Sarah’s mind flitted back to the day when Lucy had come back to find the shop window all changed, and how she had almost flipped. The look on Lucy’s face made her think she remembered it too.

  “If you like, I’ll help you with the soft furnishings,” Sarah offered. “I would love to see how you can transform an empty space into a cosy, welcoming room.” She thought for a moment. “I saw a magazine recently that had design and furniture suggestions for sitting-rooms and bedrooms. It looked really interesting, but I didn’t have any need for it at the time. I might pick it up at lunch-time.”

  “Was it Interior Design?” Lucy checked. “Or Ideal Home magazine?”

  “I’m not sure what it was called . . .” Sarah paused, thinking. “I’ve never heard the expression Interior Design before, but I suppose it really does describe what you’re doing.”

  Lucy walked slowly around the room, a thoughtful look on her face. She came to stand by the fireplace. “How are you getting on at the house with the girls?”

  “Grand,” Sarah said, wondering what had prompted the question. “Vivienne has been quiet since the . . . since she was ill, but she’s been quiet with everyone.”

  “How would you feel about moving in here?”

  Sarah looked at her, stunned. “Me? To live here above the shop?”

  “You don’t need to decide straight away. The painting and decorating won’t be finished for another week or two, and even then there’s no rush.”

  “I think it’s beautiful . . . but I wasn’t expecting it. I really don’t know what to say . . .”

  “Think about it. Take your time.”

  Sarah walked around the room, and then came to sit on the window seat and look out onto Pilgrims Lane. She could see several upstairs parts of houses that she knew were occupied by shopkeepers and
staff. There was only one family living in the lane as it wasn’t really suitable for children, as there were cars and delivery vans constantly bumping up and down the cobbles during the day. Her gaze fell on the bookshop below and she immediately thought of David McGuire. It would be strange being in the shop knowing that he wasn’t across the lane any more.

  “I thought you might find it easier to do your sewing and alterations here without having to lug things back to Victoria Street. You could have the small room up here and if you needed any materials, patterns thread etc you would only have to walk downstairs.”

  “It would certainly be very convenient,” Sarah said. “I can just imagine how lovely it will look when the decorating is finished and the furniture is in place.”

  “You have a good eye for colour and design so if you’d like to help me to pick wallpaper and paint and the furniture, I’d be grateful.” She halted. “If you decide you do want to move into the flat then it will be exactly as you would like it, and if you don’t want to move in, then it will be all ready for someone else.”

  “Wouldn’t you mind someone coming in through the shop to come up here every day?”

  Lucy’s hand came up to push a stray dark curl behind her ear. “I would have to pick the tenant very carefully.” She suddenly looked flustered, as though the idea didn’t appeal to her, and she moved towards the door. “I shouldn’t really have asked you. I think you’re very settled in Victoria Street with the other girls, and it might be too lonely for you down here.”

  “But it would be a great opportunity.” Sarah was turning things over in her mind. The opportunity was too good to miss, but something was holding her back.

  “If you decide you want it, I would only charge a nominal rent. Take a week or two to think about it. Put it out of your mind for the time being.”

  The workmen appeared just before opening time and Lucy asked them to carry the rolls of material from the back area where they had been stacked and covered to the new stacking shelves that would allow easy viewing and access to them.