The Child's Secret

by Amanda Brooke

  Calderstones Park was close enough to walk the short distance home and he strolled up the hill with his head down and his hands in his pockets. When he stepped onto the drive, he found Selina busily dusting the windowsills. The wiry and wily octogenarian was barely five foot tall and with the sills almost at head height, cleaning them was a difficult and somewhat pointless task. She pretended not to hear the heavy clomp of his work boots on the block paving and gave a start when Sam tickled her waist.

  Swiping him with her duster, she cried, ‘Sam, you gave me a fright!’

  ‘What are you doing, Selina? I told you I’d wash the windows at the weekend.’

  She twisted the duster in her fingers, which were swollen with arthritis. ‘Oh, I can’t sit inside on such a lovely day,’ she said, ‘and I can’t sit in the garden doing nothing. You don’t exactly leave me much to do, but staying busy is what keeps me alive.’

  ‘That and the whisky,’ he said smiling.

  She swiped him again. ‘I’ve told you, it’s medicinal.’

  Sam laughed. ‘Anyone who’s reached the ripe old age of … What is it now? Sixty?’ he asked, deliberately knocking quarter of a century off his landlady’s age. ‘You deserve at least one vice, Selina.’

  ‘For that compliment, I’ll have to invite you to dinner. I’ve made a lovely cottage pie and it’ll go to waste if you don’t help me eat it.’

  Sam had moved into his lodgings soon after arriving in Liverpool and the setup had suited him perfectly. Selina was a widow and had converted her oversized house into two separate apartments many years ago. She lived on the ground floor while renting out the upper level. There was a basement that could easily be converted if she wanted another lodger but Sam’s rent was sufficient to plug the gap in her income and they were comfortable in each other’s company. They liked their own space while knowing there was another living being close by. Over time, they had let their lives overlap far more than either intended, although they respected each other’s privacy. Selina wouldn’t push her offer for dinner or be offended by Sam’s refusal, which he gave rather reluctantly.

  ‘I’m sorry, Selina, can I give you a rain check? It’s been a tough day and I want to go for a run. I need to clear my head.’

  ‘I understand,’ she said with a nod. ‘I’d go with you if these hips didn’t keep seizing up on me. I’ll put some dinner on a plate for you and you can heat it up when you get back.’

  ‘Thank you, you’re a sweetheart.’

  The old lady tried not to let the worry show on her face when she said, ‘And don’t stay out too long. You don’t want to wear yourself out or you’ll be needing a hip replacement before I do.’

  ‘I won’t go too far,’ Sam said but it was at best a half-truth. He would probably be out for a good hour at least and still it wouldn’t be long enough. He had spent years trying to outrun himself and tonight he would fail once again.

  Later, as Sam dragged himself up the stairs, his legs felt leaden and his T-shirt was soaked in sweat but it was only when he entered his apartment and checked the clock that he realized he had been out for at least an hour and a half. He went into the kitchen, which was little more than a cubbyhole with enough room for a cooker, fridge and sink but little else. It was sufficient for his needs which right now involved the bottle of water he had left to cool in the fridge. He poured a glass and downed it in one then quickly refilled it before resting it on his forehead to cool down.

  By the time he made his way back to the living room, his pulse had begun to slow. He felt completely depleted which wasn’t a bad feeling; in fact it was the reason he pushed himself so hard. The exercise gave him time to get his thoughts in order and left him too tired afterwards to let them wind him up again. He went out for a run at least three times a week whatever the weather although the distance depended on his state of mind.

  As he took a sip of water, a beeping noise caught his attention. It was a voicemail alert on his mobile, which he had left on the dining table. He checked the missed call, stared at the caller ID for a second or two, and then deleted the message.

  By the time Sam had showered and changed, it was eight o’clock. He didn’t feel hungry at all, despite his stomach rumbling, but he knew he would have to eat something and it wouldn’t be his choice. As if on cue, there was a knock at the door.

  ‘Perfect timing,’ he said opening the door to Selina who was holding a tray. The cottage pie was so hot it was steaming.

  ‘Hungry?’ she asked as she marched past him.

  ‘Famished,’ he lied.

  He left Selina in the living room and marched back into the kitchen.

  ‘I won’t stay if you want time on your own,’ she called after him as she set about laying the table. Along with his dinner, she had brought all the condiments and a slice of cake for afters.

  Sam emerged from the kitchen with two cans of brown ale. ‘Could I tempt you?’ he asked, already knowing his old friend wouldn’t refuse. The ale was more to her taste than his and he kept a supply in the fridge as repayment for the countless offerings she served up.

  As Sam tucked into his dinner, Selina occupied herself by flicking through the sketch pad he had left lying around. He watched her suspiciously. They knew each other better than either was willing to acknowledge. Selina had listened out for him returning home from his run; she had heard the shower running and had known how long to give him to get dressed before bringing the dinner he wouldn’t have bothered to heat up for himself. She knew how he worked, just like he knew how she did. Selina had something to say but was biding her time.

  Putting down the pad, she turned her attention to a small heap of scrunched-up balls of paper. ‘What are these?’ she asked, picking one up.

  ‘Don’t,’ he said, when he saw her about to unfurl it. When she raised an eyebrow, he added, ‘I gave a tour to a group of school kids today and made the mistake of telling them about the Wishing Tree. They’re the children’s wishes.’

  ‘So why bring them home if you’re not going to look at them?’

  Sam’s eye was drawn to one particular ball of paper. It was the only pink one in the pile. ‘Hiding the evidence?’ he tried.

  Selina took a sip of her ale straight from the can; they had long since dispensed with social niceties in each other’s company. She smiled when she said, ‘You want to look, don’t you?’

  ‘I shouldn’t,’ he said, but having cleared his plate, he set the tray to one side and let Selina gather up the wishes to place between the two of them. They each took a handful but only Sam was selective, making sure he held onto the only one he really wanted to read.

  ‘A PlayStation,’ she said rolling her eyes.

  ‘A bike,’ Sam said, equally unimpressed.

  They took it in turns to read out the rest which were equally uninspiring until Selina found one that made her laugh so hard she had to take a sip of ale before speaking. ‘I’d like you to drop a branch on the bearded wonder’s head!’ she read, still crying with laughter.

  Sam was at first shocked that one of those nice children would think such a thing but then remembered Matthew. ‘Cheeky sod,’ he said.

  ‘What about that one?’ Selina asked. She had noticed the pink ball of paper that Sam had palmed but was reluctant to open.

  ‘I don’t know if I should,’ he said and then went on to explain how Jasmine had gone missing and how he had found her making her wish in secret.

  ‘She’s got to you, hasn’t she?’ The mischievous smile had disappeared and there was a pained look on the old lady’s face. ‘Could it be that she reminds you of someone?’

  He shook his head. ‘I’m overthinking things, that’s all. I’d like to believe her wish would be something important, but more likely than not she’s just another young lass who wants to grow up to be a film star. I’d rather leave it unopened and avoid the disappointment.’

  Selina offered up her palm. ‘Let me,’ she said. When Sam didn’t respond, she added, ‘You can’t fool me, Sam.
You’ve cleared up the mess after telling that Wishing Tree story plenty of times but you’ve never brought the notes home with you before. Maybe you don’t want to read it – but you want to know what’s in it. If you feel it’s against your principles then let me look. Believe me, my conscience has had to deal with far worse.’

  Reluctantly, Sam dropped the ball of pink paper into her hand but he couldn’t watch as she flattened the creased paper to reveal its secrets. ‘Ah, bless her,’ Selina said. She waited for Sam to look up from the can he had been peering into. ‘She wants a job for her dad.’

  ‘Really?’

  Sam took the unfolded piece of paper from Selina and stared at it as he tried to keep up with his emotions. He had known the serious little girl wouldn’t have wished for something trivial and felt vindicated, although now he had to deal with the consequences of giving her a dream to hang her hopes upon.

  ‘I feel guilty,’ he admitted. ‘I spun her a story and now she’s expecting the Wishing Tree to grant her wish.’

  Selina shrugged. ‘You never know, chances are her dad will get a job anyway.’ When it became clear his conscience couldn’t be eased, she added, ‘We’re supposed to tell children white lies, Sam. Childhood has equal measures of reality and fantasy and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. If she believes in the Wishing Tree then she still believes in a world where good overcomes evil and we all find our happy endings. What’s so terrible in that?’

  ‘Because it’s not true,’ he said, not thinking of Jasmine any more but his own sorry existence.

  Selina chose her moment perfectly. ‘Your wife phoned,’ she said.

  ‘Ex-wife,’ he corrected. ‘She left me a voicemail message. I didn’t play it back and—’ He stopped, only now realizing what Selina had meant. ‘She phoned you too?’

  She nodded. ‘When you were out on your run. She thought you might not listen to the message so she asked me to tell you.’

  The break-up of Sam’s marriage had been amicable enough. For the last two years of their marriage, they had barely talked and so he had decided to walk away before they learnt to hate each other. That had been four years ago and, after leaving Edinburgh, he had initially broken off all communication with Kirsten. They had only finalized the divorce a year ago when she had come down to Liverpool to agree the terms. That was when she had met Selina and his landlady had learned more about her lodger in a single weekend than in all the time they had been living under the same roof together.

  Sam busied himself flattening out the pink square of paper in his hand before folding it carefully, this way and that. He took care with the corners and pressed down the creases with practised ease. ‘What did she have to say for herself?’ he asked at last.

  ‘She’s …’ The old lady paused long enough for Sam to lift his gaze. ‘She’s getting married come September.’

  Sam tried to smile. It could have been worse. ‘I thought the next time she’d phone would be to tell me she was pregnant.’ He continued turning and folding the paper until he was ready to unfurl the wings of his origami crane. ‘I suppose that will come next. She’s moving on.’

  ‘You might be right,’ Selina agreed, ‘but it can’t be easy.’

  ‘Really? Do you think I don’t already know that?’ Sam asked, although it wasn’t a question, but a suggestion of the anger building inside him, anger that would have been directed at his ex-wife if he had spoken to her. She wouldn’t have deserved his wrath and he was glad he hadn’t spoken to her directly. He raised his hand to stop Selina replying. ‘Sorry, that was unfair.’

  ‘She knew you would find it hard, which is why she asked me to break the habit of a lifetime and interfere.’

  Sam smiled as he turned the paper crane over in his hand. He had travelled hundreds of miles in an attempt to escape the past but it was the woman he had left behind in Edinburgh who had managed to find a way to move forward. Perhaps he should follow her example.

  ‘I’ve been asked out on a date,’ he said, knowing full well that Selina would give him the final push he needed.

  ‘Is she nice?’

  ‘Out of my league,’ Sam said, thinking of Anna’s dazzling smile and sparkling eyes that saw in Sam something he could not. He scratched his beard. ‘I might have thought I stood a chance once, but I’m not the man I was. I think she’s going to be disappointed.’

  ‘That’s the problem with you, Sam McIntyre. You think too much.’

  5

  Saturday 2 May 2015

  Sam had thought Anna pretty when they had first met, but when she walked into the restaurant she looked stunning. Her dark hair had been swept to one side, falling softly over her shoulders, and the black-and-white sleeveless jersey dress hugged her figure dangerously. Following Selina’s advice, Sam had gone for a smart casual look and, wearing chinos and a checked shirt, felt distinctly underdressed. They were in a lively Indian restaurant in Woolton Village and even if the other diners weren’t wondering what an odd pairing they made, Sam was.

  ‘You found it all right then?’ he asked standing up to pull out Anna’s chair for her.

  Anna assumed Sam was getting up to give her a kiss and offered her cheek. There was an awkward moment where Sam didn’t know what to do and by the time he plucked up the courage to kiss her, she had moved away and the fumbling only added to his nerves.

  ‘Yes, I can’t believe I’ve never been here before. I love Indian food.’ She took her seat and watched Sam intently as he struggled to settle back in his chair. ‘You don’t do this often, do you?’

  ‘No,’ he admitted, ‘I’m more used to heating something up in the microwave. In fact, if it wasn’t for the Christmas do at work every year, I don’t think I’d eat out at all.’ The traditional Christmas dinner dance was one of those annual events that Sam forced himself to attend if only to prove that he could socialize, although without fail he would slip away while the plates were still being cleared.

  Anna was laughing at him. ‘I meant going out on a date.’

  Hearing the word date only compounded Sam’s anxiety. ‘Oh, erm, yes. I doubt I could even remember the last time,’ he said, which was only partly true. He wondered at what point going out with the woman who was to become his wife could still be considered a date.

  ‘Well, try not to worry,’ she said softly. ‘Things won’t have changed that much. The idea is that we both relax and enjoy ourselves. No expectations, no strings attached – and before we order our food, I want to make one thing clear: we split the bill.’ When Sam looked horrified, she laughed again. ‘What? Were you expecting me to pay for everything? I thought it was just a myth that Scotsmen were tight-fisted?’

  Sam couldn’t help laughing, which settled his nerves, if only a little. ‘You know that wasn’t what I was thinking at all. And while I don’t want to start the evening with an argument, I have to insist on paying. It wouldn’t be right.’

  Anna scrutinized his face. ‘OK, but only if I’m allowed to pay next time.’ Before Sam could object she was extending her hand towards him so they could shake on the deal.

  They placed their orders for food and soon after the waiter brought their drinks. Sam had ordered a pint and was tempted to down it in one but made do with generous gulps as Anna sipped her wine. ‘So what made you come to Liverpool in the first place?’ she asked.

  ‘I was travelling through,’ he said, although travelling aimlessly might have been a better description. ‘And then I somehow fell into a job I enjoyed, found a nice place to stay and so here I am, still here four years later.’

  ‘And yet you haven’t put down roots.’

  ‘What do you think I do for a living?’ he asked.

  The waiter arrived with their starters and they sat in silence for a while. From the look on Anna’s face, she was waiting for a proper answer, which he did his best to ignore. As the silence stretched in front of them, he was forced to accept that they risked spending the rest of the evening sidestepping the past unless he shared at least some
of the baggage he carried with him. He wasn’t good at sharing information, but accepted that the sooner he got it out of the way, the sooner he could give his undivided attention to the beautiful young woman sitting opposite him.

  ‘I lived in Edinburgh all my life, right up until the day I decided to leave. My marriage of fifteen years was over bar the shouting and I decided that I wouldn’t hang around long enough for that to happen. I left and I haven’t been back since.’

  ‘I take it there were no kids, then?’

  Sam felt every nerve in his body tense but his voice was surprisingly level and gave no clue to his real feelings. ‘The divorce, unlike the marriage, was uncomplicated.’

  ‘You’re very fortunate; in my line of business you see the fallout to a lot of acrimonious divorces,’ Anna said. ‘But here you are, young, free and single.’

  The laugh wouldn’t come but he managed a smile. ‘Young?’

  She shrugged. ‘I have a sneaking suspicion that there’s a youthful complexion underneath that beard. You might think you can hide behind it, but I see you, Sam McIntyre.’

  ‘You think I should shave it off,’ he concluded.

  Anna tore at a piece of naan bread then pushed back on her chair as she took a bite. She considered her response before she said, ‘Unlike you, I have plenty of experience of the dating game. My last relationship ended three months ago and now I’m back home, living with my mum and dad, with my ex-boyfriend’s words ringing in my ears. He told me in great detail how I tried to change him rather than adapt, and while I think that was a little unfair, there was some truth in what he said and I intend to learn from my mistakes, Sam. If you like your beard then far be it from me to tell you how much better looking you’d be without it.’