Barefoot in the Dark

by Lynne Barrett-Lee

  He was feeling much better by the time he’d got home. There was still the dead weight of the expectation of getting that phone call, but, that ordeal notwithstanding, he felt as in control as he’d felt about anything in the last two years. And it still wasn’t late. He could even still see Hope, maybe.

  Everything about her manner when they’d spoken seemed to be signalling that he should not be without hope, and, whatever doubts had been simmering about commitment, they too, like the job, now felt far less important than going with his instincts and following his heart. He rolled his eyes at his reflection in the car window as he locked it. Following his heart? Was he hearing himself right?

  He was certainly hearing his answer-phone right. There was a message from Hope, in response to his own one. ‘No problem,’ she’d trilled in a rather spiky falsetto. ‘I know you’re a busy man, Jack, so call me whenever. No rush. Goodbye.’ And that – bloody hell, bloody hell – had been that.

  Jack had winced at the ‘Jack’. It sounded so cold. Couldn’t have felt more so if she’d just said ‘you bastard’. He picked up the phone and dialled her number from memory. It rang eleven times and then a woman’s voice kicked in. But it wasn’t Hope’s voice. It was the telecom woman. He didn’t leave a message this time.

  Chapter 28

  She was getting good, Hope decided, at dealing with disappointment. Good at things not working out. It wasn’t your successes that defined you as a person, it was the way you dealt with life’s blows. Well, she’d certainly had lots of practice on the blows front over the years. And life was just one big series of them right now, so perhaps when things eased up and something good happened she’d appreciate it all the more. She looked around carefully at the fun run people surrounding her. Here recognising a face, there a whole family. Many of them here, she reminded herself sternly, had altogether less mundane tales than her own. Tales of disappointment, and heartbreak, and loss. She was no big deal, with her small time heartache and her insignificant longings. Just another human being, serving time.

  She mounted the podium to scan the field again. She was, at least, proud of all they’d achieved here today. It was no small thing they’d done. She could take her disappointment and tuck it somewhere less visible. She was all right before she’d met him, she’d be all right once she got over him. What did she expect? To have it all laid out on a plate for her? Love and happiness and bloody roses round the door?

  More to the point though, where was he?

  The start point, now demarcated by means of a large pink banner, was a little to the north of the field. Thanks to the unexpected clemency of the weather, the turn-out was staggering. Even now there were crocodiles of enthusiastic runners, lycra-clad and sinewy, waiting to get their numbers, their limbs fluid. All anxious to make their mark. To achieve their own personal nirvana today.

  ‘Well over a thousand is my guess,’ said Mr Babbage. Hope decided, having never really thought about it before, that she was really rather fond of Mr Babbage. He was here. He’d been persuaded out of running, but he’d still made the effort. He wasn’t just after publicity. No-one important knew he was here. His logo was already in place on all the banners, his firm’s name above the number on everyone’s front. And yet he’d come anyway. Yes, he was a fine man.

  Madeleine flipped her sunglasses down from hairdo to nose. ‘One thousand, one hundred and twenty-eight,’ she said. ‘WOW. Can you believe it?’

  Madeleine wasn’t running, either. Her back, she explained, with a wink and a grin. Hope was pleased for her. Two months and counting with this one. Perhaps she’d hang up her lucky thong at long last. But Simon had shown up and was down with the front runners, bobbing from foot to foot and cycling his arms. He was wearing a plain white T-shirt and a baseball cap. Hope felt a stab of relief to see him. She had so expected him not to come. She looked at the start clock. Five forty-two. Where was Jack? He surely wouldn’t let them down now.

  Patti, who had pitched in at the last minute to help with the warm-up, was now jogging across the grass towards them. She’d gone back to her car to try to get Jack on her mobile.

  ‘Has he showed yet?’ she asked.

  Hope shook her head.

  ‘Well, I’ve tried his mobile again. It’s still on divert.’

  ‘We’ll give it five minutes,’ Madeleine decided. ‘And then we’ll go with plan B.’

  She turned to Hope. ‘You’d better get down there, hadn’t you?’ Hope had difficulty hearing her above the noise of the PA. She shook her head.

  ‘There’s no rush. I’ll stay here a bit longer.’

  ‘There’s a thought,’ said Madeleine. ‘Can you stick around too, Patti? If Jack doesn’t show would you mind starting the race for us?’

  Patti shrugged. ‘Sure. If you’d like me to. Hey – result! Does this mean I get to get out of the race?’ Hope was still scanning the sea of heads anxiously. He couldn’t let them down. He couldn’t.

  ‘Did you try the office again?’ she asked her. ‘I mean he might have had trouble getting through here. What with the noise and everything.’

  Patti looked at her watch.

  ‘Tell you what,’ she said. ‘I’ll run across and get my bag. If I’m not running I might as well anyway. Not running, hurrah!’ And she was off.

  When she came back she was waving her arms. She climbed up to the podium.

  ‘He’s not coming.’ She waggled the mobile. ‘He’s left a message on my voicemail.’

  Hope felt her stomach hit her boots. ‘What did he say?’

  ‘Not a lot. Just that he was sorry but that something had come up and he wouldn’t be able to make it.’ She opened a bottle of water and drank from it.

  ‘That was all?’

  ‘That was all.’

  Madeleine, by now, was in full flow at the microphone, trying to chivvy the massed runners into some sort of order. Hope passed the news on and turned back to Patti.

  ‘D’you know where he was calling from?’

  ‘Well, his mobile, of course.’ She frowned. ‘He sounded a bit odd. I hope he’s OK.’ She looked genuinely concerned.

  ‘OK?’ asked Hope, anxious now. ‘Why shouldn’t he be?’

  Patti looked at her for a good long moment, then upturned the Evian bottle to her lips again. Then she frowned. ‘Well, you know. What with the job and everything.’

  ‘The job in London?’

  ‘London?’

  ‘The job he was going to see about today.’

  Patti looked confused.

  ‘Job? What job was that?’

  Hope shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I thought he was going to see someone about a job in London.’

  Patti shook her head. ‘Oh, you mean the ‘Five Live’ thing? Oh, I get you. I thought you meant a job in London. No, that’s just an OB thing he’s doing for the European Cup. No, I mean the show.’

  ‘What, his show?’

  Patti was studying her more carefully now. She looked cagey all of a sudden. ‘Look, I’m not sure it’s my place to… Look, I’m sure he’d have made it if he could.’

  Hope placed her hand on Patti’s arm. ‘No, please tell me. What about his show? Is this something to do with the television thing? He told me about a television thing. Is it something to do with that?’

  ‘You mean the HTV thing?’

  ‘I don’t know. All I know is that he told me about something in the pipeline to do with a television show. What happened?’

  Patti looked at Hope quizzically. Then she narrowed her eyes and grinned.

  ‘Oh, I get it,’ she said smoothly. ‘Well, well, well. He’s a dark horse, and then some. Are you two, like –’

  She raised her eyebrows in enquiry.

  ‘No. Not… Well, maybe.’ Hope could feel herself colouring. ‘Well… but what’s happened about his show?’

  Patti seemed to consider for a moment. ‘Well, I guess it’s going to be common knowledge any time now anyway,’ she said eventually. ‘It’s been axed, that’s all.
And I –’

  ‘Axed? You mean they’re not going to do it any more?’ It suddenly felt as if she’d been felled by a punch.

  ‘Well, not as such. I mean there’s still going to be a show. It’s just that Jack won’t be presenting it any more –‘

  ‘But that’s awful!’

  Patti narrowed her eyes.

  ‘Hey, not so awful. It’s kind of par for the course. It’s been running four years now, you know. Which is a pretty good innings. It’s not like it wasn’t on the cards or anything.’

  ‘Oh, but poor Jack! Was he very upset?’

  Patti shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Yes, I’m sure he was. I mean, I don’t think it was any kind of surprise, you know? It’s just that he’s had such a shit year, what with the divorce and everything, and what with the HTV thing not happening… he was so excited about that.’ She stopped speaking and seemed suddenly lost in thought. ‘And I feel bad, of course. I mean I know it’s not like I pushed him out or anything, but we’re mates, you know? I’m sure it must have been hard for him to swallow.’

  Hope blinked at her. ‘You mean you’re the one who’s taking over?’

  Patti nodded. Then she sighed.

  ‘So it’s kind of tough on him, you know?’ She spread her hands. ‘But what can I do? I have a career to think about too. And you know what it’s like. These opportunities don’t come up that often.’

  Hope didn’t, but she also didn’t doubt that was true. Poor Jack. No wonder he’d seemed so irritable and tired. But Patti was right. ‘I know,’ she agreed.

  ‘I mean, that’s life, isn’t it? When an opportunity like that comes up, you don’t sit around thinking about it too long, you know? You just have to go out there and grab it with both hands. One life. No read-throughs. You know?’

  Hope rather thought Patti might have been saying that to herself a lot just lately. But she was probably right. It was too good an opportunity to miss. But poor Jack.

  ‘Poor Jack,’ she said. Patti agreed. Then suddenly slapped the palm of her hand against her forehead and groaned.

  ‘Shit. I just had a thought!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Of course! Oh, shit. His father!’

  ‘What about his father?’

  ‘God – of course. That might be it. I bet that’s it. I remember him telling Hil about it the other day.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘That they’d had to move him to the hospice. Perhaps his Dad’s –’ Her brows creased. ‘Shit, now that would be a bitch. On top of everything else.’

  Hope touched her arm. ‘Hospice? Which hospice?’

  ‘Christ, don’t ask me. He doesn’t tell me stuff like that.’

  Madeleine was waving from the podium at them. Hope looked up at the time clock. Only a couple of minutes to six now.

  Patti waved back at her and started moving towards the podium.‘I’d better get up there and strut my stuff, eh?’

  ‘But who would know?’

  Patti said she didn’t know. Hope mounted the steps with her.

  ‘But someone must.’

  Patti looked down at her, obviously bemused at her insistence. ‘Hadn’t you better get down to the start line?’

  ‘Someone must,’ she persisted. Patti thought a moment.

  ‘I guess Danny might.’

  ‘Danny?’ That name again.

  ‘His mate. He’s –’

  ‘Do you have his number?’

  ‘Yeah, but –’

  Madeleine was introducing Patti over the loudspeaker now. Hope could hear the words ‘Valentine’s Day’ booming out of the speaker behind her. Poor Jack. What a day he was having. What a life he was having. Decided, and exhilarated, she grabbed Patti’s arm.

  ‘Look. Can I borrow your phone a minute?’

  ‘Sure, but –’

  ‘So I can get the number.’ Madeleine was beckoning Patti to come across to the microphone now, while the runners bobbed and cheered beneath. ‘In here, right? What’s his surname?’

  Patti smiled. ‘You’ll find him under D. For “dickhead”. Bless.’

  ‘Hi Pats, how’s it hanging?’

  Hope had walked a little way from the speakers, but the noise was still deafening, and the voice at the other end of the phone was low.

  She explained who she was, and why she was calling on Patti’s phone, pressing the flat of her hand against her ear.

  ‘It’s just that Jack was supposed to be here starting the race, and no-one can get hold of him and Patti said she thought he might have had to go to the hospice?’

  ‘Shit, what a bitch,’ he said. She heard him sigh. ‘Yes. She’s probably right. I know things were pretty bad yesterday. Who did you say this was again?’

  ‘Hope,’ she said. ‘Hope Shepherd.’

  ‘Ah,’ he said slowly. ‘Got you.’

  Another telling tone of voice. She didn’t care. She ignored it. ‘And she thought you might know which one it was.’

  There was a short exhalation. ‘Look, I hardly think he’s going to be thrilled to be bothered by you guys right now, you know?’

  ‘No, no,’ said Hope quickly. ‘I’ve no intention of bothering him. I just wanted to… well… just ring and make sure he’s OK. Let him know we’re thinking of him.’ She felt a complete fool, but the rush of exhilaration was still moving through her limbs.

  ‘Well, OK, I guess. It’s the – damn, what was it called? Something Court. In Penarth. That’s it. It’s –’

  ‘Holly Court?’

  ‘You got it. I’m sure it’s in the phone book. It’s –’

  ‘That’s OK, thanks. I know the one.’

  Knowing all the hospices was, of course, all part of the service. Hope had them in a box on her desk. But that wasn’t much use right now. She called directory enquiries and had them text their number to Patti’s phone. It took only seconds, and within a few more the phone was ringing. Yes, he was there, they said, and did she want them to go and fetch him?

  ‘No, no,’ she said quickly. ‘Don’t worry. Could you just give him a message? Let him know that we’re all thinking of him? That’s all.’

  It wasn’t all, of course. It was very far from all.

  She’d just disconnected when Patti and Madeleine came down from the podium. The race was underway. She could make out the front runners as a mass of primary colours and bobbing heads, streaming, as one, beneath the start line banner.

  ‘I can’t believe it!’ said Maddie. ‘All that training and you’re not even running! What’s happened, Shepherd? You worried Simon’ll put you to shame?’

  Hope shook her head and handed the phone back to Patti.

  ‘Thanks for that.’ She felt liberated. Energised. Alive.

  ‘Any joy?’

  She nodded. No. Not liberated exactly. Just like a new her had finally surfaced from the dark. Someone else, someone braver, was in the driving seat now.

  Patti picked up her backpack and slipped the phone back inside. ‘I’d better go and get changed,’ she said, glancing at the clock. ‘Before someone spots me and drags me along for the ride. Look, if you do manage to get through to him, will you give him my love?’

  Hope agreed that she would, and Patti jogged off once again across the grass.

  ‘Right then,’ said Madeleine, who was looking at her more carefully now. ‘Get through to who exactly? Jack?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘But not get through to exactly. Look, Maddie, I need to ask you a really big favour.’

  ‘That sounds ominous,’ said Madeleine.

  She told Maddie about the show and the TV thing and Jack’s father, and how she’d left such a cool message on his answer machine, and that ridiculous and mad though it probably sounded, she wanted to drive down to the hospice right now and see Jack face to face.

  ‘What, now? Like it’s that urgent?’

  ‘I know, I know. But I was thinking about what Patti said about opportunities. I’m all done with sitting around thinking about this one while it flies ou
t of the window without me. I’ve got to go there. I mean I’ll come straight back, if, you know, if there’s nothing I can do. But I’ve got to go there. We’re all sorted here, aren’t we? There’s plenty of volunteers to help with the goody bags and everything, and I already fixed up where the photographer needs to be, and –’

  Madeleine waved her to a stop.‘You don’t need to convince me,’ she said. ‘You’ve done enough work for ten of us already. But are you sure that’s such a good idea? I mean, his Dad might – well, supposing he’s already popped his clogs and you come bursting in on the grieving family like the Lone Ranger in Lycra? Suppose all that sort of stuff?’

  Hope was shaking her head.

  ‘There won’t be. I just know there won’t be. He hasn’t got any family. Just his son. And I just – Oh, God, I don’t know. I just want to see him, Maddie. I just want to get there before I can think myself out of it. Look, have you ever got that feeling that someone you cared about really, really needed a hug? Maddie, I’ve got to go there.’

  Maddie lifted her arms and hugged Hope herself then.

  ‘You know what? You’re right. You’re mad but you’re right. Go on. Get off there. Go give him his hug.’

  Hope grabbed her bag and a bottle of water. There’d be a whole lot more hurdles for her to jump – she knew that. But she’d just jumped the biggest and it filled her with hope. She jogged across the field, and leapt the boundary fence too.

  Then she sprinted all the way to her car.

  Chapter 29

  Jack couldn’t quite believe his eyes, and for a moment he thought he shouldn’t. Perhaps this was a mirage in a desert. Or a wish wished almost hard enough. He hadn’t known he’d been wishing exactly, but now she was standing here it was so obvious he had.

  ‘I hope you don’t think this is an outrageous imposition on your privacy,’ she said softly. ‘I can go again. I just thought – well, I only just heard. Oh, Jack, I’m so sorry.’

  Her chest was rising and falling steadily. She was real. Alive. Here. He leapt up from the bench he’d been sitting on.