Lucy’s Book Club for the Lost and Found

by Emma Davies

  Hattie stared at Oscar, horrified. ‘When will I ever learn not to open my big mouth?’ she said. ‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.’

  To her relief, Oscar fixed her with a cheery smile. ‘Not upset, my dear; resigned, perhaps? Hoping against hope that I haven’t left things too late.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘And fortunate that the landlady at the Crown has a very fine steak pie for me, which I shall shortly be eating before a roaring fire.’ He waved a vague hand in the direction of the town. ‘You could join me, if the thought’s not too unbearable.’

  Hattie pulled a face. ‘Do you know what, Oscar? On another occasion I think I’d like that very much, but I’ve just realised that I have somewhere I need to be. Are you sure you’ll be all right?’

  ‘Of course, but what about you?’

  ‘Me? I’m going to take your very good advice.’ She grinned at him. ‘Enjoy your pie!’

  She hurtled out of the park. She was still a good ten minutes away from home, and she would have to pick up Poppy from school later, but she wanted to give herself as much time as possible. She hadn’t known what she was going to do until she’d spoken to Oscar, when it suddenly all became very clear indeed. She had a feeling that it was going to take a while, though …

  *

  Her mum lived about half an hour’s drive away, only ten minutes away from the house where Hattie grew up as a child. When her grandma died her mum and dad had replaced the bay-fronted semi she had always loved with an ultra-modern new build on a select development that Hattie hated. In fact, it was around that time her mum had eschewed anything that reminded her of her life as a child and, although now Hattie knew why she had done this, she still couldn’t understand it. It felt like a betrayal to her, a symptom of her mum’s misplaced and misguided anger. Hattie wasn’t optimistic that she would be able to make her change her mind, particularly when Jules had already tried, but she was damn well going to try.

  She was halfway there when she wondered if she should have called ahead first. Her mum didn’t work on a Monday, but there was no guarantee that she would be in. Of course, had she called, there was also every possibility that her mum wouldn’t want to see her. The thought sat unpleasantly in Hattie’s stomach; she had been on the receiving end of her mother’s hurtful behaviour too many times in the past, when all it would have taken was an explanation, which Hattie was convinced she deserved. At the very least, she should have been given an opportunity to defend herself, but all these things had been denied her.

  *

  It wasn’t even Thursday, but Clive needed only to look at Lucy’s face as she walked urgently through the door of Earl Grey’s to know that only pastry of the highest order would be sufficient.

  It was a quiet day and Lucy smiled gratefully at Clive as she pulled Callum towards the rear of the tearoom to sit down. She had just about forty minutes of her break left, but that would be enough. That was the wonderful thing about Callum; she never had to explain herself at length, because he always seemed to know what she was thinking – sometimes better than she did herself. Today though, he had plenty on his mind too.

  ‘Go on, you first,’ she said when they were seated. ‘What happened with Oscar?’

  She listened quietly while Callum retold the events of that morning. She had heard the story briefly of course just moments before the book club had started, but now she could see why Callum was so distraught.

  ‘It wasn’t so much that he was upset,’ said Callum, ‘I anticipated that, but he’s just such a gentle man and expects so little, it’s heartbreaking. He has a little hope, and that’s all… and I’m so… angry, that we can’t give him more. How could anyone not want to have Oscar in their life?’

  ‘But his daughter doesn’t know him like we do,’ Lucy replied, gently. ‘She’ll have her reasons for not wanting to see him, and they could be based on anything – her own relationship with her adoptive mother, for example, her upbringing, or her own prejudices. What they won’t be based on is the knowledge of what a lovely man Oscar is.’

  ‘But that’s so unfair!’

  Lucy held his look for a second before nodding sadly. ‘There must be something we can do,’ she said. ‘Oscar has lived with this pain most of his life, and now, he’s going to suffer all the more, at a time when he should be able to enjoy his retirement. I know he’s lost Mary, but he has years ahead of him yet.’ She lowered her head. ‘I want to help him so much, but by getting him to open up about all of this I feel like I’ve condemned him to live out the rest of his days feeling nothing but sadness. I should have left him alone.’

  Callum sat back as Clive placed a tray on the table between them.

  ‘But the distress Oscar’s been carrying over the loss of his daughter isn’t new, Lucy; he’s been lugging around that hurt his whole life. You’ve given him the courage to finally do something about overcoming that loss and, more importantly, given him hope when there was none. Surely that’s better than no hope at all?’ He picked up the teapot and began to pour.

  Lucy knew what Callum had said was true, but it still did nothing to assuage the guilt she felt, or her sense of helplessness. Once the tea was poured, Callum sat back once again but didn’t reach to taste it. Clearly, he was waiting for her to tell him the truth about how she was feeling, but Lucy was finding it hard to admit that to herself, so how could she possibly do so to Callum?

  Fortunately, he mistook her silence for shyness. ‘I know why you’re feeling guilty,’ he said. ‘Because you think you’re responsible for everything that’s happened, and because you think you were wrong to interfere. But what else could you have done, knowing how unhappy Oscar – and Lia – were? I don’t see how you could have ignored it, and besides, you’re forgetting that everything is turning out wonderfully well for Lia – and we don’t yet know what’s going to happen with Oscar.’ He reached out across the table to take her hand. ‘I think what you’ve done is incredibly kind and caring. Be brave, Lucy. We’re not at the end yet, and when we get there, even you might be surprised by the outcome.’

  Lucy stared at him. Now, what was that supposed to mean? She was just about to question him further when Clive appeared at her elbow.

  ‘Sorry, Luce, can I interrupt for a minute? I need to pick Callum’s brains about this website. It’s probably me, but…’

  Lucy waved an airy hand. ‘No, you go ahead, Clive, it’s fine, honestly.’

  Callum flicked her an apologetic look. ‘Do you need me to come and have a look?’ he asked.

  Clive pulled a face. ‘Would you mind? Only I’ve tried to load on this week’s specials and they’re not appearing.’

  Lucy watched as Callum followed her brother-in-law into the office, realising she was grateful for the time it bought her. She wasn’t entirely sure what was meant by Callum’s last comment or, more to the point, she suspected she did know, she just wasn’t quite ready to admit to it yet.

  She eyed the pastry, which still lay invitingly on the plate. An innocuous custard slice, just like the one that seemed to have started her on this whole rollercoaster of a journey. Normally, she wouldn’t have thought twice about eating it, but today it seemed to have acquired a rather strange poignancy. She tutted crossly. Oh, for goodness’ sake, she thought. Get a grip on yourself, Lucy. And with that, she picked up the cake and sank her teeth into it.

  She was mid-mouthful when Callum reappeared, looking even more sheepish. ‘Sorry, Lucy, Clive’s got himself into a right pickle. I said I’d hang on for a minute to sort him out. Is that okay? We can talk again later.’

  ‘Hmm,’ she mumbled, tapping at her watch and swallowing hastily. ‘I ought to get back anyway. I’ll just finish this.’

  Callum grinned. ‘Just don’t eat mine as well, or there’ll be trouble. I’ll see you later.’ He moved to go before changing his mind and turning back to her. ‘Just give it time, Lucy,’ he added. ‘I’m convinced that’s all it needs.’

  *

  He stared at the computer s
creen as if deep in thought. Clive wasn’t in a pickle at all – Callum could rectify the issue in all of three clicks of the mouse – but for some reason the images were dancing in front of his eyes and he couldn’t focus on what he was seeing. Beside him, Clive shuffled in his seat.

  ‘Go on then, tell me what idiot thing I’ve done,’ he said, scratching his head.

  Callum dragged his thoughts back to the present. Half an hour ago he was thinking about Oscar, or, to be more exact, he was thinking about Lucy thinking about Oscar and how preoccupied she seemed to be. Now, he was just thinking about Lucy.

  He turned slowly to Clive, trying to come up with a response to his question, but his thought processes were running interminably slowly. The irony of his situation was not lost on him; if he were a PC he would turn himself off and then on again to try and remedy things, but in his case a stern talking-to was going to have to suffice. He gave himself a shake.

  ‘You’re going to have to tell her, you know,’ said Clive, peering at the screen. ‘Because the longer you leave it the harder it’s going to be. Plus, if I know my sister-in-law she’s just as bad as you are.’

  Callum’s mouth dropped open like a fish.

  ‘And don’t try and deny it either; we’ve all been there, mate. I recognise the signs. Just get it over and done with and then you can both start enjoying it.’

  ‘Erm,’ stammered Callum. ‘I’m not quite sure I follow…’

  Clive winked. ‘Yes, you do, mate. Lucy,’ he said pointedly. ‘You do fancy her, don’t you?’

  ‘Do I?’ gulped Callum. ‘I hadn’t really thought about it,’ he lied.

  ‘So, answer me this then. Do you, or do you not, find yourself wanting to talk to her at every minute of the day, even when she’s not there? Do you feel instantly better when she’s in the room? Do you find yourself looking at things and thinking Lucy would like that to yourself? And is the purpose of pretty much any conversation to get her to smile because you can’t wait to see her eyes light up when she does?’ He paused to give Callum an amused look. ‘Because if the answer to any or all of those questions is yes, then you’ve got it bad, just like the rest of us.’

  Callum didn’t think he needed to reply. How on earth did Clive know all that?

  ‘Is it obvious?’ he whispered, ‘I mean, will Lucy know?’

  Clive looked at him in exasperation. ‘Dur…’ he said, smiling. ‘Lucy feels the same way, you muppet… She just hasn’t quite worked it all out yet.’

  God only knew what colour his face was, but Callum couldn’t begin to worry about that – he was too busy trying to calm his heart down, which was currently beating at ninety miles an hour. Clive seemed so certain of himself and the thought caused a bubble of happiness to burst inside Callum’s chest. He hadn’t yet been sure of his feelings. He had even wondered whether it was simply a case of wishful thinking – Lucy was the only girl he had ever been remotely close to – but Clive’s words had confirmed everything he needed to know. More than that, because something else had been wandering through his thoughts of late: when Clive said that Lucy hadn’t worked it all out yet, Callum knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was wrong. Because Lucy did know. She had known all along.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Lia breathed in the cold air gratefully. They had been dancing for what seemed like hours and she was beyond hot. She could feel Jasper’s guiding hand in the small of her back and this alone was enough to make her temperature rise a few more degrees. Since that day in the ballroom at his house it was as if a key had suddenly unlocked something within them both. Jasper had found some balance in his life; no longer was he so uptight and anxious about things, but instead had learned to relax and express himself with real feeling and emotion. His dancing had improved tenfold. For Lia, the change was just as dramatic – and it was also terrifying.

  Before her mum had become ill, there had been a time when she had considered herself a young woman with a future ahead of her, excited and open to the possibility of sharing her life with someone. There had been the odd boyfriend, nothing serious, but there had always been the hope that, one day, these things would happen for her. In the last five years or so, she had lost that hope. Lia, the young woman with the beautiful chestnut hair, smiling eyes and an elegance that belied her years, had been replaced by a duller version; a Lia who wore shapeless clothes, whose hair was tied up out of the way and whose eyes had lost their shine through the loss of her dreams.

  Now, it was as if every nerve ending had awoken, each muscle and sinew alive to the sensations that were flooding her body. She heard colour in Jasper’s voice, saw the sound his words carved through the air and felt their texture as they settled upon her skin. She didn’t think she had ever been so aware of another person, and the feelings he aroused in her were brand new and utterly terrifying. She both loved and hated them at the same time.

  Tonight had been the final dance class of the year and there were now only three weeks to go until she and Jasper appeared together in front of the huge crowd at the charity ball. As Jasper led her outside, the streets sparkled with the glow of Christmas lights from the houses opposite. There was a sense of expectation growing in the air around them, a mounting excitement that was down to the season and the close of the year but also, for Lia, what lay beyond. The dance was to be the great finale to so many things in her life, and the thought fizzed inside her like sherbet on her tongue.

  There had been an intense look in Jasper’s eyes tonight and at times she had totally forgotten they were surrounded by other couples. Had she imagined it, or had his touch lingered just that bit longer than usual? Was the pressure of his hand against her back just that little bit lower than it had ever been before? To Lia, though, it hardly mattered whether these things were true; the one thing she hadn’t imagined was the way they made her feel.

  The house was quiet when they arrived, the lights in the kitchen off and those in the living room dimmed low. Usually, the television would be on and, as they passed down the hallway, Lia could see Gwen’s head beside her mum’s on the sofa, her soft lilting accent just about audible. Lia smiled as she watched them; her mum had been much calmer of late, and her concentration so much improved that reading to her had become a real pleasure again. She wondered whether Gwen was working her way through Dancing Shoes one more time. Jasper flicked on the kitchen light and automatically made for the kettle as Lia shrugged off her coat, hanging it over the back of a chair.

  ‘I’ll just nip and see if Gwen and Mum would like anything,’ she said, torn between her desire to continue her evening with Jasper and her responsibilities.

  Even though it wasn’t late she could see that her mum was already dozing, and Gwen looked tired too. She had a sudden pang of guilt at the thought that Gwen was doing extra shifts to help Lia out, and had probably done a full day’s work before she’d even arrived. It wouldn’t be fair to keep her any longer, now that Lia was home.

  ‘Is everything okay?’ she whispered.

  There was a grateful smile. ‘Fine,’ she replied. ‘I’m not quite sure what was going on earlier,’ she added, ‘but all’s well again now. Just got a bit confused, that’s all, more so than usual, and I’ve no idea what triggered it. She couldn’t tolerate her usual TV so we switched to reading instead.’ She looked down at the book in her hand. ‘I haven’t read this since I was a child – I’m quite tempted to stay and finish it.’

  ‘Well, you can if you really want to,’ replied Lia, ‘but I should get home if I were you.’ She didn’t need to tell Gwen how tired she looked. ‘I can sort Mum from here.’

  ‘But I haven’t got her ready… Sorry, we got a bit carried away, and she’s falling asleep now.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I can do it. I might give her bath a miss and get her straight to bed if she’s that tired.’ She smiled at Gwen’s expression. ‘Honestly, you’ve done more than enough for me. Go home and spend what’s left of the evening with your own family.’

  Jasper offered
to help, just as she knew he would, but he accepted her refusal with good grace, understanding her desire for time with her mum without the need of an explanation. This quiet period before bed was often when Lia felt closest to her mother and Jasper knew when to withdraw. It didn’t stop him from lingering slightly longer than usual on the doorstop, though, and his goodbye seemed to carry the weight of all that Lia was feeling herself. Still, tomorrow was another day, she reminded herself, and Jasper wasn’t going anywhere.

  She tiptoed back into the living room and lowered herself gently onto the sofa beside her mum, picking up the copy of Dancing Shoes and resting it on her lap.

  ‘Hello, Mum,’ she whispered, leaning in against her.

  Rose’s eyes had been closed and Lia had wondered if she was asleep, but to her surprise, they flickered open and she smiled.

  ‘Lia.’ She took her hand, squeezing it for a moment. ‘Have you been dancing? I waited up for you.’

  ‘I have,’ she said. ‘I’ve only just got back.’

  The blue eyes rested on hers. ‘I thought you had. Your cheeks are all pink and you look very pretty. Frank always says he loves me best when my cheeks are flushed like that. We went dancing tonight, too.’

  ‘Did you?’ asked Lia. ‘I bet you had a lovely time.’

  ‘Oh, we did… and don’t you dare tell Mum, but he kissed me too, bold as brass.’

  Lia smiled. ‘Well, the cheek of it! But I won’t tell, don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.’

  ‘You’re a good girl,’ she replied, squeezing Lia’s hand again. ‘I might go to bed now that you’re home though.’ Her mouth opened wide in a yawn. ‘I’m so tired.’

  ‘Well that makes two of us. Come on then, let’s go up, and once you’re in bed I’ll bring up some cocoa, how about that?’

  *

  She knew the minute she woke that something wasn’t right. She had been tired herself when she climbed under the covers and, despite the huge number of things rushing through her brain, she had fallen asleep almost instantly. At first, she thought that a noise had woken her, but as she lay there staring at the ceiling, heart pounding, she realised that it couldn’t have been a noise after all – what had woken her had in fact been the opposite: the complete absence of something that ought to have been there. She hurtled down the hallway to her mum’s room.