And Then She Ran

by Karen Clarke

  ‘Actually, she’s only waking once or twice in the night.’ Hearing the pride in my voice made me wince. As if it wasn’t pure luck, but something Lily had mastered through hard work and determination.

  ‘You’re one of the lucky ones,’ Biddy said. ‘What about her dad? Is he in the picture?’

  ‘No, he isn’t.’ I hoped my tone would deflect further questions. In New York, it had taken some time to adjust to how open people were with their feelings and emotions, their lack of reserve and willingness to talk, how nearly everyone was in therapy. Although I’d slightly resented Morag’s reserve, I now found myself appreciating it.

  ‘Well, a child doesn’t necessarily need two parents to grow up well adjusted.’ Biddy tugged her hat off and stuffed it in her pocket. Her hair was like the plume of an exotic bird, at odds with the whiteness of her skin.

  ‘So, Ifan’s your cousin,’ I said. It explained the piercing blue eyes. ‘He and my aunt seem to get on well.’

  ‘I hope you’re not discussing me.’ Morag came over, her gaze on Lily whose eyes were teary as she took in her new surroundings. ‘Leave her alone now, Bid. She’s not used to old gossips like you.’

  ‘Bloody cheek.’ Biddy cuffed Morag’s arm, but it was affectionate. Someone else who was clearly fond of my aunt.

  ‘I think I’ll have a look round,’ I said. ‘Unless I can help?’

  ‘Two’s company, three’s a crowd.’ Biddy’s smile crinkled her eyes. Morag had turned to a man who was enquiring about the price of the cabbages. ‘You don’t want to be stuck here with us.’

  ‘I think I’ll get a drink in the café.’ I pointed to a building opposite, with a sign shaped like a teapot above the door. ‘I’ll be back soon.’

  ‘Oh, the Old Coffee Cup,’ Biddy approved. ‘Oldest café in Fenbrith. They do lovely Welsh cakes.’ She grabbed Skip’s collar as he made to follow me. ‘He’ll be fine now, off you go.’

  The air inside the café was fragrant with coffee and pastries. I felt hungry after giving most of my toast to the dog. I’d always loved to eat, though I’d had to be careful at work when it came to tasting menus as it was easy to pile on weight, but for months I’d been forcing down food for Lily’s sake, my stomach too knotted to accept more than a few morsels.

  ‘Time for a treat,’ I said to Lily, sitting down once I’d ordered a coffee and a couple of Welsh cakes that really did look delicious. Lily bucked and kicked her legs, emitting a high-pitched noise that turned a few heads.

  I unstrapped her and bounced her on my knee, waiting for her smile.

  Once the waitress had delivered my order, I settled Lily on my lap with a view across the street of people jostling around the market stalls. It was easy here, to believe everything was fine.

  Drawing in a deep breath, I took out my phone and called Ana’s number.

  *

  He couldn’t believe how easy it was to get close without her knowing. The dog was no barrier. He’d always had a way with animals. Dogs in particular were easy to befriend as long as you gave them a treat. Skip. Hardly the name of a guard dog. A Rottweiler would have been better, but even then, he had tricks up his sleeve.

  Seeing her at the pub, chatting and holding that baby as though she didn’t have a care in the world … it made him angry. He knew he wouldn’t report that. Not the sort of detail he’d be comfortable relaying.

  Just biding his time now. Enjoying living like this, if he was honest; invisible, watching. Back to basics, doing what he was good at – stalking the enemy.

  Cutting off the only means of contact had been easy. He didn’t want her calling for help when the time came. Dropping the ring had been a mistake – unlike him – but he’d been startled by the dog. Good job he knew all about camouflage, about blending in.

  Of course, two of them in the building made it harder, but that wouldn’t stop him, not when he had a job to do. He was nothing, if not thorough.

  Chapter 18

  As the ringtone continued, I realised with a start that I’d forgotten about the time difference. It would be barely dawn in New York. Ana would be sleeping. She wore earplugs because the walls in her apartment were thin and her neighbours liked to party. Unless she was at Tom’s place; the man who’d finally lived up to her romantic ideals by chasing a mugger who snatched her phone while she was out running, knocking her to the ground. Tom had not only returned with the phone, but saw her safely home and gave her his card in case she wanted him to give a statement to the police.

  Instead, she called him and invited him out to dinner to say thank you. They’d been together for six months now – a record for Ana, who was usually disillusioned after the second date, swearing to be more distrustful of men, like me. She knew about my father, understood that he’d coloured my view of relationships and made me wary of picking the wrong man. Even though, in the end, I had.

  Desperate to speak to her, I let the call go to her anonymous voicemail message.

  ‘Hey, Ana, it’s me.’ Tears pricked my eyes. ‘I forgot the time difference – sorry to call so early. Listen, I’m fine, Lily’s fine. I just wanted you to know. And I’m so sorry I didn’t say goodbye in person. I hope you understand, I had no choice. But it’s OK, we’re safe here. At least … we will be. I think. My aunt welcomed us, surprisingly. She loves Lily.’ Ana had only met my baby once, right after she was born, her face tight with worry. ‘I might even have a little job, in a pub. Cooking. God, I miss you, Ana,’ I let out a laugh that was more like a sob, and the napkin on the table floated to the floor. ‘Call me if you want to,’ I rushed on. ‘Ring this number. There’s no reception at my aunt’s so if I don’t pick up there’s a landline …’ Too late, I remembered it wasn’t working. ‘Actually, I can’t remember the number, but please call me, or I’ll try again soon. Love you.’ I just managed to garble out the words before getting cut off.

  I clasped the phone and stared into space for a second. I imagined Ana waking and getting my call, trying to picture her reaction, knowing she’d have been thinking about me and wishing I’d phoned as soon as I arrived at Heathrow.

  Lily wriggled against me. I pressed a kiss to her hair before bending to pick up the napkin, which fluttered in a draught as the door opened. As I dangled it in front of Lily, my mind still in New York with Ana, a familiar voice said, ‘I don’t suppose you fancy sharing those?’

  My head jerked up. It was Declan, standing by the table, looking longingly at the plate of Welsh cakes.

  My heart leapt. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘We’re not going to start with the questions again, are we?’

  ‘That’s a question.’ My tone was neutral but I couldn’t prevent a rush of blood to my face. I’d never been a blusher, wasn’t the type to go weak at the knees if a good-looking man so much as spoke to me. Before Patrick, I’d always be seeking the catch, the flaw, telling myself they were being nice because they wanted something, that it was better to take no notice. When Patrick had complimented me the night we met, I said, ‘I bet you say that to all the girls,’ and I hadn’t been teasing or flirting. I’d believed it.

  ‘So, are you willing to share?’

  Declan was more rugged than I remembered, his eyes a darker shade of green, his smile a degree warmer. There was something of the land about him. I could imagine him rescuing a sheep, or felling a tree; living off-grid. Living in the woods? I surprised myself by saying, ‘I was being greedy. I can’t eat them both.’

  ‘In that case, I don’t mind if I do.’ Declan pulled out a chair and sat down, picking up one of the sugar-sprinkled cakes and biting into it, miming a look of pleasure.

  A waitress came over, practically preening. ‘Can I fetch you a drink?’

  ‘I’ll have what she’s having, please.’ Declan pointed to my mug of cooling coffee. His manner with the waitress was polite. He seemed unaware of the effect he was having.

  ‘Flat white,’ I said.

  When she’d gone, he finished his cake in two bites and dus
ted crumbs from his fingers. ‘Are you going to eat yours?’

  I adjusted Lily on my lap and reached for the plate. ‘Sorry to disappoint you.’

  I tried not to mind him watching me eat, but the cake felt dry in my mouth and was hard to swallow. I drank some coffee, Lily tracking the mug’s journey to my lips. ‘How come you’re back in Fenbrith?’ I said when the silence began to feel awkward.

  The waitress returned with his coffee, but his eyes didn’t move from my face. He waited until she’d gone, then leant towards me, palms facing up on the table. ‘If I’m honest, I was hoping I might run into you.’

  I felt a pulse in my throat as I searched his candid gaze. ‘Why?’

  ‘I liked our chat yesterday.’ His smile was like sunlight parting the clouds. ‘After I left the pub, I realised I didn’t even know your name or where you were staying. I had a feeling you were never going to call me, so …’ He gave a shrug, eyebrows lifted. ‘I knew it was market day and thought I’d hop over and have a mooch about, see if you turned up.’ He looked through the window. ‘I bumped into your aunt—’

  ‘How do you know my aunt?’ It came out more abruptly than I’d intended. Lily sucked her fingers, unperturbed.

  ‘I recognised her from the pub.’ Declan sat back and interlocked his fingers in his lap. He was wearing the same coat as the day before, a knitted sweater underneath that matched the colour of his eyes. ‘I asked her where you were and the woman on the stall told me you were in here.’

  Biddy. I remembered she ran the post office, probably loved a bit of gossip, knew everything about everybody and wouldn’t be shy about passing on details.

  ‘I have to say, your aunt was a bit cagey,’ he said, adding before I could think of a reply, ‘Not that I blame her. I could be anyone as far as she’s concerned.’

  Good for Morag. ‘How was your hike?’ I lifted Lily and patted her back, not sure whether I was soothing her or myself. ‘To Snowdon?’

  He grimaced. ‘It’s not half as much fun in the rain, though Hugh minded less than I did.’

  ‘You have to get used to the rain around here.’

  ‘You know the area well?’

  ‘Everyone knows it rains a lot in Wales.’

  ‘And it doesn’t where you’re from?’

  Where did he think I was from? ‘No more than anywhere else. You must have plenty of the wet stuff in Ireland.’ It was so typically British to be discussing the weather, I almost smiled.

  Declan nodded. ‘Spent a lot of time with rain-draggled hair.’ I had a sudden, vivid image of him as a boy, tearing around on a bike, hair streaming in the wind, eyes flashing with laughter. ‘It could be raining on one side of the hills and blazing sunshine on the other,’ he said. ‘There’d be these amazing rainbows—’ he made an arch with his arm ‘—and my grandmother had us convinced the pot of gold was always on the sunny side.’

  He was easy to listen to, his accent lyrical. The sort of voice you’d never get tired of hearing. He picked up his mug, fingers brown against the white earthenware. While he drank, I studied his face, looking for … what? Some clue that he wasn’t who he said he was? Would I have to live the rest of my life suspecting that everyone who spoke to me had a hidden agenda? The timing of Declan’s appearance in Fenbrith was unusual but he seemed genuine, no trace of artifice in his face. Even so. ‘Look, Declan … as you can see, I have a baby and—’

  ‘Lily, right?’ He put down his mug, a smile still playing at the corners of his mouth.

  My hand stilled on Lily’s back. ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘Have a guess.’ Declan pointed through the window. The street was crowded, a queue at the fish stall, people chatting and smiling. A normal day. Better than normal because the sun was shining and everyone was in a good mood. ‘Your aunt’s friend mentioned it. She couldn’t get over that her niece and great-niece had come to visit after all this time.’ His gaze held a twinkle, but I saw a shade of sympathy there too. ‘The downside of living in a small community.’ He twisted his mug unconsciously – a small sign that he wasn’t as relaxed as he seemed? ‘Everyone knows your business. One of the reasons I couldn’t wait to leave home.’

  ‘What were you doing that you didn’t want people to know about?’ I hated the new sharpness in my tone. I didn’t want Lily getting used to hearing it.

  ‘Nothing that would frighten the horses as my gran used to say.’ He paused, his gaze direct. ‘Lily’s a good name.’

  I tried to relax. ‘It was my grandmother’s.’

  ‘Doesn’t it mean pure, innocent? Seems fitting for a baby.’ Before I could comment, he added with a small laugh, ‘Hard to imagine our grandmothers being babies once.’

  Maybe it was the randomness of his comment, or comparing his reaction with Patrick’s – Lily’s an old woman’s name – but some of my animosity drained away. He seemed nice – more than nice.

  He’s hot and he likes you. What’s your problem?

  If he bothers to ask again, I might say yes. That had been my mantra – until Patrick. He hadn’t needed to ask twice.

  ‘I wish my gran had got to meet her.’ I slotted Lily back in her carrier, cradling her with one hand while I adjusted the straps, making sure her legs were dangling free. As her head drooped against my chest, I wondered whether she could hear my racing heart. ‘I should get back.’ I forced a smile as I stood up. ‘It was nice to see you again, but I’m not looking for … whatever it is you think you want.’

  ‘Whoa!’ Declan lifted both hands, made a play of reeling back in his chair. ‘Just give it to me straight, why don’t you?’

  The waitress looked over at me, her eyes flinty. Let me have him, if you don’t want him.

  ‘I just did.’

  He shook his head and ran a hand though his tumble of hair. ‘Look, I just thought if you’re staying a while, maybe we could have a day out like tourists. Go up Snowdon on the steam train if you like and take a look at the view. I’ve heard it’s quite something when the weather’s nice.’

  ‘Taking the train seems like a cop-out.’

  ‘Not sure climbing a mountain with an eight-week-old baby is wise, unless you’re experienced.’

  ‘Nor is standing on top of one. I’m not keen on heights.’ I imagined a strong pair of hands on my back, shoving me over the edge. A wave of nausea surged through my belly. Elise, at the foot of the stairs. The look on Patrick’s face— Snapping off bad memories, I gathered my things together. ‘Bye.’

  ‘We don’t have to go right to the top,’ Declan persisted. ‘There’s a café near the summit, where the train stops. We could grab a drink and admire the view.’

  ‘Fine.’ I wanted to get away now. ‘I’ll give you a call.’

  ‘You will?’ He sounded sceptical. ‘I won’t have to come looking for you again?’

  I paused, searching his face as I hoisted my bag onto my shoulder, careful not to jar Lily. ‘Come looking for me?’

  ‘I don’t have your number.’ His gaze didn’t falter. ‘We could arrange a day and time now. I could pick you up, say … Sunday at 10 a.m.’

  I shook my head, already moving away. ‘Ten-thirty. Outside here. I won’t wait if you’re late.’

  ‘I won’t be.’ His words followed me out onto the pavement where I stood for a second, catching my breath as though I’d been running, blinking in the brightness.

  There was an old-fashioned toyshop next to the café. I plunged inside, a jangling bell above the door heralding my arrival. It was empty, apart from the woman at the till who looked engrossed in a crossword.

  ‘Look at all these lovely things,’ I said to Lily, closing my mind to my conversation with Declan.

  The woman looked up and beamed. ‘Oh, what a cutie!’

  I ended up buying two board books, an animal-based activity mat and a ladybird wrist-rattle, paying with some of the notes I’d stuffed in my bag.

  ‘Staying here, are you?’

  I nodded, unable to face a grilling. On my way back to
Morag, I paused to look in the gift-shop window, seeing a doorstop in the shape of a Cheshire cat – the sort of thing Mum would love. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d bought her a gift. Maybe I’d come back and get it for her, take it with me when I visited.

  As I made to move away, I caught a reflection behind me in the window like a ghost. A man in a waterproof, a gleam of dark blond hair, feet planted wide apart. He was looking right at me. Declan? My lungs felt chilled. Did he know I could see him? Slowly, slowly, I turned, but there was no one there. As I searched the pavement where he’d been, something occurred to me. How had he known that Lily was eight weeks old?

  Chapter 19

  ‘I didn’t know it was meant to be a secret.’ Biddy’s cheeks were almost as red as her hair. ‘Your aunt didn’t say.’

  ‘Didn’t get a chance,’ Morag murmured.

  ‘It’s not a secret, I just … I don’t know the man very well,’ I said. ‘What exactly did you say to him?’

  ‘Only, “Oh, you mean Morag’s niece, Grace? She’s in the café with that lovely baby of hers”.’

  ‘You didn’t mention her name?’

  ‘Well, he said, “What’s her name again, the baby?” So, I said, “Lily.” Your aunt was busy with a customer.’ She looked confused as she glanced at Morag. ‘If I’d known I wasn’t supposed to say anything, I wouldn’t have, but he seemed so lovely and I think—’

  ‘It’s fine.’ Biddy’s bewildered expression filled me with guilt. I shouldn’t be interrogating her. Declan’s throwaway comment about Lily’s age had obviously been just that; a lucky guess. ‘I’m being overprotective, that’s all.’

  ‘Oh, you can’t be too protective with a little one like that.’ Biddy’s face cleared, back on familiar ground. ‘Mine were permanently attached at that age. I breastfed them all until they were three.’ She glanced at her chest. ‘No wonder they’re like a pair of deflated beach balls.’ Her wheezy laugh drew amused stares, but Morag didn’t smile.