by Ros Seddon
She tugged some more at the boy’s shirt sleeve and he pushed her hard, knocking her sideways into the wall. Gus watched as she straightened herself and backed away from the scene. He watched as her boy pulled a knife and saw it light up as the moonlight reflected on its long sharp blade. The other boy turned and ran toward Gus who had to side step as he shot past him and across the street to safety, shouting obscenities as he went. Gus had heard the car coming from a long way off; its engine roaring and its tyres screeching on every bend in the wet road. Someone was in a hurry. Gus was a war hero. He had seen things in his lifetime the kids today wouldn’t want to witness. He had lost his closest friends; watched them being blown away by grenades and mortar fire; and he had killed. Gus had been in the front line in France and had come home one of the walking wounded. Of course he was proud to have played his part for Queen and Country but there had been so many times when he had wondered why. What was it all for? So many young lives had been taken ......... for what? He had seen the fear in the face of a young German soldier at close range as he pulled the trigger and opened fire on him and he had watched him fall. There had been others, but this boy had been the one that had haunted him; his scared young face and his pleading eyes. If the boy hadn’t raised his gun; if he had just turned and walked away, he too may have survived. Gus would never forget him as long as he lived. Countless times in his dreams he’d watched the boy fall, like a broken doll; the red leaves of autumn fluttering around his pale face and blood spilling crimson from his innocence as the life drained out of him until all that remained were those cold blue eyes staring back at him from beneath soft blonde curls. Someone’s son; someone’s brother. He was just a child. Gus tapped his breast pocket where three medals were pinned to his lapel. No one wanted to hear his stories anymore. No one cared. He glanced back at the girl and her knife wielding companion ......the youth of today. They had no idea. He stepped from the footpath, his whiskey breath warm in the cold night air and started across the street. The car came from nowhere. Now Gus was back in war torn France and the Doodle bug came screaming down from above; soldiers, women and children running in all directions; never knowing where it would hit ......... and then silence. With the silence came the fear. No one knew which way to run. It was a game of chance and you never knew if it was your time to die. By the time Gus heard the car and looked up it was too late to move forward or back. He who hesitates is lost. That’s what had gone through his mind as he’d pulled the trigger on the young German boy all those years before and it was what went through his mind now as he tried desperately to turn around. The last thing Gus saw was the eyes. That fixed glazed expression. Cold blue eyes staring back at him from beneath soft blonde curls. As the car struck him it threw his frail body up into the air and he landed some six yards away from the point of impact.
‘Oh Jesus! We have to help him!’ cried the girl with the yellow plaits.
The boy grabbed her by the shoulder.
‘Stupid bitch! You’ll have us both locked up. Come on!’ He pulled her arm and ran; away from the social club; away from Western Drive; away from Gus’s body lying very still on the wet road ............... and the girl ran with him.
Felicity had bought a new outfit. She wanted to look her best that night. She checked herself in the mirror. The skirt was black lace over cream satin, not too short and the top was matching cream satin and was pulled in at the waist which showed off her figure in the right places. She stepped into her black heels and checked her make up, blended the rouge in a little to lose the Aunt Sally cheeks and lightly sprayed her perfume. She was incredibly nervous. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this nervous before. There was a car outside. She looked out of her bedroom window and saw it was Tom, her neighbour’s son. He parked in the only available space in their private lay by and went in to number three. Felicity lived in a small hamlet called Knapp, about five miles from East Barton. Her cottage was one of four houses in a narrow lane and from previous feedback when she’d had visitors, it was really hard to find. What if David had meant for her to meet him at the café in town? Supposing he got there and found she wasn’t there and thought she’d stood him up? Well there was no way of contacting him now; he would have already left. She went downstairs and stood at the window. Tabby cat gave her a look of complete disgust and jumped on to his side of the sofa then began to lick his paws inadvertently watching her from the corner of his eye, waiting for her to make a move. As the clock approached seven thirty her heart began to pound then there was a car; silver in colour slowing outside, then there was a knock at the door……..
She pulled the curtains in the bay window and turned on the table lamp. ‘Later cat’ she said as she made her way to the front door. He was hovering on the footpath.
‘Hi. Wasn’t sure if I had the right place but I saw your car and knew it was no 1.
Wow!’ He looked her up and down. ‘You look amazing.’
‘Thanks. So do you.’
She followed him to the silver Audi that was parked in the middle of the lane, engine running, and he opened the passenger door for her.
‘I …. er…… took the liberty of booking a table for 8 o clock. Is that ok?’
‘Fine. We’ll be early then.’
‘It’ll take twenty minutes to get there.’
‘Twenty minutes?’ Where are you taking me Blue eyes………. ‘We’re not going into town then? Are we going into Exeter?’
‘Would you like to go to the city?’
‘No. I mean, I don’t mind where we go. I just wondered where you could be taking me that’s twenty minutes drive from here.’
‘Well if I told you it would spoil the surprise.’
When David stopped at the junction to the main road she became even more confused as he turned left and headed away from the city route.
‘So tell me about this new venture of yours.’
Felicity told him all about her ideas for the website and how she’d had approval at the meeting in Cornwall the day she’d first met him. She didn’t go into too much detail about Peter and certainly didn’t mention the celebratory drink or his behaviour toward her. She thought about that night and it made her shudder. And what was she doing now? Here she was in a car with almost a complete stranger heading into the night goodness knows where. What would her mother think? But there was something about blue eyes. It felt right. She felt safe with him; and excited; and flattered that she was with someone so utterly gorgeous.
‘Here we are then…….. this must be it.’ He turned the car off the road between two stone pillars and over a cattle grid then they coasted down a long driveway lined with trees until the road opened out into a massive clearing of well kept gardens and shrubs and a huge country house lay before them silhouetted in a pink sky, its windows dancing with lights and the sun setting just to the left of the building. Felicity thought she had never seen anything so beautiful.
‘Wow! You don’t do things by halves David Wilson.’
David came round and opened the door for her. She stood by the car and took in the view across the fields. ‘Wow…..’
‘Shall we go inside?’
The sign above the door said, The Retreat. Licensed Restaurant. B & B. Non Residents Welcome. They went inside and were led to a cosy table overlooking the gardens where the view was breathtaking. Felicity was impressed. The meal was amazing. They both had the fillet steak which was deliciously tender. Later when he made his excuses to leave the table and Et tu Brute came to mind he was back in the blink of an eye. They talked and they talked. Then they talked some more, and when they actually noticed that the staff of the Retreat’s restaurant had been giving them that for God’s sake go home or book a room look for over an hour, David went to the desk and paid the bill then he took her home, stopped in the middle of the road as before and said goodnight. He kissed her once, tenderly; very tenderly….. and drove off into the night leaving her with this amazing longing inside and just a cat to talk to. How rude…………
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br /> She and Abi had followed him through town. They had been two cars behind him now for the last ten minutes. It was as though they were tailing him and then, as he turned into his parent’s road to pick up Oliver they took off on the main stretch toward the city. He was sick of her watching him. It turned his stomach to think of what she had done and he didn’t want her anywhere near him; or Ollie. Although he couldn’t stop her seeing him a part of him wanted to ....... wanted to have that right. Parents should be able to provide a stable, loving environment for their children and she was very unstable. He knew also that when he came out of his parent’s house holding Ollie’s little hand, she would be parked beside the tree on the opposite side of the road a little way up watching him. Watching Oliver; wanting him.
‘Daddy!’ He loved hearing that word. It felt like he was coming home after a long voyage at sea; or from some distant foreign land to his homeland.
‘Ollie, hey? What have you been up to today hey?’
‘Done pitcher!’
‘Did you? Well let me have a look then.’
The little boy ran his hand over his long blonde curls and shouted, ‘Nanny where Daddy pitcher?’
His mother emerged with a piece of A4 covered in bright coloured scribbles. ‘Here it is look.’
There was a picture of what appeared to be a mummy and a daddy and a little Oliver. Bright yellow hair sticking up on top of round faces with arms and legs coming from them.
‘Wow! That should be in the Tate gallery. Excellent Oliver; well done mate.’
As they made their way to the car he could see the dark blue fiesta parked in its usual spot under the tree. Did they honestly think they couldn’t be seen there? He opened the back door of the car and settled Oliver into his car seat. ‘Here you go mate. Daddy got you something special.’ He passed a book to his little son. It was filled with dinosaur stickers and stuff that two year old boys would apparently be fascinated with and the book seemed to work. The child did not look up as they passed the blue fiesta; its occupants lying low, trying not to be seen.
‘Lets go home Ollie eh?’
‘Where’s Mummy?’
He wasn’t prepared for that. Had he caught a glimpse of her watching them? Did he know her car?
‘Mummy is…… out with Abi.’
‘I done pitcher Daddy.’
‘You did an excellent pitcher mate.’
He drove back to Rose Lane and parked in the car port he had built this summer and then closed the gates behind him, the proud father.
‘How about we go out somewhere special tomorrow?’
‘Beats Daddy; we go beats.’
‘You want to go to the beach eh? Have a donkey ride?’
‘Yeah, dog-key ride.’
‘Ok mate. If it’s not raining we’ll go to the beach then. And if it is raining we’ll go to the beach anyway and take our raincoats, how’s that?’
‘Yeah’.
They went inside and played games until bedtime. He would get up bright and early and take Oliver off for the day before Ellie had a chance to follow them. Last weekend had been a disaster from start to finish. He’d taken him out at ten o’clock and he’d seen her car following them down the A37. She followed him all the way to Exmouth. It was difficult to lose her because he couldn’t take risks; not with Ollie in the car. She’d followed them all around the town until eventually she’d come up to them crying hysterically; Abi trying in vain to hold her back and she’d leaned down to kiss Oliver who immediately began to cry and hold out his arms to her. Poor little man spent the rest of the day crying for his Mummy and it took more than an ice cream to take his mind off her. The image of her hysteria had so distressed him that even at bedtime he cried for her. He would have to speak to the court liaison officer again because her little outbursts of emotional blackmail were too much for him and more importantly, for Oliver to bear. She was completely out of order. He hadn’t asked her to run off with her gay lover. It was her choice. She had even admitted she didn’t feel safe to look after him and that her nocturnal excursions were becoming more and more frequent. The court had granted him a residence order. Ellie was only allowed to see Oliver once every two weeks and only then whilst in the company of her husband or his parents. She was not allowed to take Oliver out on her own or have him to stay for fear that she could fall asleep and not be responsible for him. If only she would listen to reason. He would make an appointment on Monday morning. He had never meant to be this hard on her but she gave him no choice.
It was Saturday night and they were sitting in Felicity’s local. Sandra had come round for a girlie night. She told her all about blue eyes; how they had met; about last night and how he had taken her to the Retreat.
‘Sounds like you’re in love.’
‘Don’t be silly I’ve only really been out with him once.’
‘When you’re in love that’s all it takes. So, when are you seeing him again?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Did he not ask then, when he could see you again?’
‘No. He just said goodnight and then he drove off. Oh; do you think he should have?’
‘Would have been nice wouldn’t it? Then you wouldn’t be feeling like this.’
‘Feeling like what? I’m fine Sand. I’m sure he’ll get in touch soon.’
Sandy looked around the dimly lit bar and lounge area of the little country pub. Three elderly men sat at three different areas. One at a small table in the corner of the lounge with his newspaper pulled high up in front of his face; another at a table near the bar watching the two of them and sipping his pint frequently and the third chatted to the barman completely engrossed in his conversation and never taking the time to look away.
‘Well lets hope so darlin’ because looking at this lot, Knapp hasn’t got much to offer you has it?’ They laughed and Sandy went to the bar for another round. Felicity had secretly hoped David would phone. Why hadn’t he? He’d had all day and he wouldn’t work at weekends being in the banking business.
‘Here you go. Get that down you.’ Sandy put another glass of vodka and coke in front of her and it was only eight o’clock. ‘Why don’t you phone him?’
‘I can’t do that’
‘Course you can; we’re not living in the dark ages. He may be expecting you to.’
‘Call me old fashioned. I don’t think it’s right to chase a guy.’
She told Sandy about Peter and what happened the night they’d had a ‘work drink’.
‘Oh my God that’s awful. You should have reported him.’
‘I figured it was best to forget it. We may have to work together again quite soon and I don’t want any bad feelings at work.’
‘But then he’s got away with it! Jesus Flick you’re too soft for your own good.’
They stayed at the pub a while longer and then walked back to Felicity’s little cottage where they spent the rest of the night drinking wine and watching old movies.
‘So is Mark looking after Josh tonight?’
‘No he’s out with his mates. Josh is at my Mum’s for the night. He did offer though, bless him but I didn’t think it was really fair because I seem to get out more than he does these days.’
‘I think it’s brilliant the way you two are together. So many relationships fall apart these days but yours is as strong as ever. What’s your secret?’
‘I guess…….. I don’t know; we love each other, and we trust each other. We both have a little bit of space from each other, like tonight and that’s good for us. When I’m not with him I really miss him and he says the same about me so I guess it’s good to have space now and then. But we need to sort out your love life girl. Now come on – lets phone this blue eyed hunk of yours. I’ll speak to him if you like!’
‘It’s late. Maybe tomorrow. I just don’t want him to think I’m chasing him’
But the following morning David Wilson was the last thing on her mind. Tabby cat hadn’t leapt through the cat flap when she dished out hi
s whiskas. Nor did he come when she opened the back door to the garden and called to him or when she tapped his bowl. She made coffee for herself and Sandy.
‘I bet he’s out chasing a girlfriend, the little muppet. Fancy some toast Sandy?’
‘Mmmm that’d be lovely hun, thank you.’
Felicity made toast and they sat at the kitchen table and chatted for a while and then went out to look for the cat. It was Sandy who noticed it first. Little drops of dried blood here and there as they walked around the path to the front door. Then Felicity saw him lying in the flower bed under the window. His body lying very still; the only movement was his soft fur rustling in the gentle morning breeze.
‘Oh No! Tabby Cat!’ She stooped to pick him up but she could see the dried blood beneath him and knew straight away that she was too late. Her heart began to pound and tears began to roll down her cheeks as she felt for a pulse but his body was cold. He’d probably been there all night.
‘Poor little thing. Hit by a car I expect. I’m so sorry Flick.’
‘I shouldn’t have gone out last night and left him. It’s my fault. Oh my poor little muppet.’
‘Come on Flick. Come inside. I’ll get Mark to come over and sort things out. Come on’. Sandra had to literally drag her friend into the cottage. She phoned Mark who said he’d be there within half an hour or so. Felicity was heartbroken. The cat was her friend; she told him everything. She couldn’t believe he was gone. She went into the kitchen and the first thing she saw was his little dish on the floor that she’d just filled with fresh food that would never be eaten. She watched as Sandy emptied it into the bin and put his bowl into the sink and the tears came again. Mark was true to his word. He was there in twenty minutes and Sandy rushed out to meet him. She watched him through the kitchen window digging a deep grave at the bottom of the back garden. He seemed to be out there for ever, just digging. Felicity had lost track of time and when he appeared in the doorway and said, ‘It’s done. We’ve got to get back for Josh but we could come back later and I’ll make a little cross to mark the grave if you like Flick, put his name on it.’