Least Said

by Pamela Fudge

  ‘You’re right,’ I said. ‘Boys will be boys, and this one is in dire need of a bath, right at this minute, before we can eat. It’s just steak and jacket potatoes, and the veg is all prepared for steaming, do you think you can handle that, Daddy, while I get this young man cleaned up?’

  ‘No sooner said than done,’ Jon was already reaching behind the kitchen door for his apron.

  ‘Is this what the Evil man eats to keep fit?’ Will asked when we were finally sitting at the table. He looked like an angel now that he’d been scrubbed clean and was in his pyjamas and dressing gown.

  ‘I’m sure he does,’ Jon said, tucking in, and carefully ignoring the fact that the dare devil stunt man had died several years before. ‘Everything on this plate would help to keep most people fit and healthy.’ I watched him sip his green tea with every appearance of enjoyment, when I knew quite well he would prefer a cup of good strong builders’ tea with plenty of sugar. I couldn’t fault his enthusiasm, because he was certainly throwing himself into this increase your fertility diet business with gusto.

  ‘But I’m sure you’ll find that he never did any of those dangerous jumps without wearing protective clothing, and especially a helmet. Don’t tell me you were out there jumping over bricks on your bike without even your helmet on, William,’ I said sternly.

  He hung his head. ‘Sorry, Mummy.’

  ‘That man actually broke quite a lot of his bones, William.’ Jon pointed out. ‘It might have looked great on the TV programme, but sometimes he crashed and was in hospital for a long time.’

  ‘That must of hurt,’ Will said thoughtfully.

  ‘Indeed,’ Jon said, ‘so you might want to find something safer to do. It’s my fault for leaving the bricks in the garden.’

  ‘And mine for not keeping a closer eye on you,’ I joined in, fully accepting my share of the blame. ‘I think you’re beginning to get a bit bored and have been out there looking for mischief to get into, but you’ll be back at school soon with plenty to do.’

  ‘Yes,’ Jon picked up on the cue, ‘and Mummy and I were thinking we should all do something special together before the holidays are over.’

  ‘Paulton’s Park,’ he yelled.

  ‘No,’ we both said, and then I added quickly before Will could offer a protest, ‘We go there an awful lot anyway and so it would be good for us to do something completely different, but I think besides being something completely different it should be a...,’ I paused for a moment before finishing with a ta-da flourish in my tone, ‘a surprise.’

  Will clasped his hands together and stared at me, his eyes all starry. ‘I love surprises,’ he said, and made no effort to tease any details out of us, which I would have found unusual in any child but William.

  ‘Is it today?’ he asked every morning and settled down quite happily to eat his cocoa-pops every day that I shook my head.

  He was nothing if not a perceptive child, so I shouldn’t have been surprised when he burst into the kitchen on the following Wednesday, full of excitement and shouting, ‘It’s today.’

  I picked him up and swung him round exuberantly, matching his enthusiasm, to yell back, ‘It is, it is, but how did you know?’

  ‘Daddy’s wearing his going out clothes and not his going to work ones. He pretended to pick up his briefcase, too, but he was just kidding me.’

  ‘Sharp as a tack, that boy,’ Jon commented as he strolled in, looking very dashing, dressed head to toe in black. I loved him in black and he knew it. He smirked as he asked, ‘Do I look ok?’

  ‘A bit more than ok,’ I grinned, and lifted my face for his kiss.

  He patted my bottom, snugly encased in skinny-fit indigo jeans. ‘Looking good, Mrs Hammond,’ his gaze took in the strappy sandals on my feet, long slim legs shown off to advantage by the tight-fitting jeans, and then went all the way up to the floaty summer top that showed just a hint of my womanly curves.

  There was no hanging about this morning, none of the usual pleas from Will to watch ‘just a little bit’ of his favourite DVD before he had to get ready. How he was going to cope with the excitement when he realised we were going to see a real live stage version of the film, I had no idea.

  There was just time for him to utter the familiar phrase, ‘Are we nearly there yet?’ before Jon was pulling into the Brankstone Railway Station car park.

  Travelling by train wasn’t something we ever did, just because it was easier to take the car and load the boot with everything we might need for a small child, so it wasn’t surprising that Will looked puzzled and asked, ‘Where are we? Why are we stopping here?’

  Jon went off to get a car park ticket and I leaned into the back of the car to un-strap William from his booster seat. Then I took one of his hands and Jon took the other, saying, ‘Come and see.’

  There was no train pulling into or out of the station to give the game away, so it wasn’t until Will spotted the actual railway lines that he finally realised where he was.

  ‘Are we going on a train?’ he said, in the awed tone of voice that might have been reserved for the promise of a ride out in the Queen of England’s golden coach. Though, come to think of it, a train was probably the better option for a six year old boy.

  ‘We are indeed, Will,’ Jon told him, ‘and we’re going all the way to London on it.’

  ‘Wow,’ his eyes were huge and his child’s face the picture of joy at the treat in store, and it made me wonder why on earth we hadn’t thought to do something like this with him before.

  ‘We have a little bit of time before the train is due, Will,’ Jon told him, ‘how would you like to come to the shop and choose a comic, just in case you get bored? It is quite a long journey.’

  William looked at him as if he was mad. Obviously the very thought that he might get bored on a train journey would never have occurred to him. However, he allowed himself to be persuaded into the little shop-come-cafe to peruse the shelf of comics, though he did it in a desultory fashion and not with the enthusiasm he would normally greet a selection of his favourite reading material – especially when it came with an offer to pick any one he wanted.

  The magazine I’d chosen went unread as I spent the whole journey enjoying Will’s absolute pleasure in everything about travelling by train, from the passengers and their chosen pastimes inside the carriage, to anything and everything going on outside.

  He found it fascinating that people were actually working on their laptops on a train, though he didn’t think reading. whether from an actual book or an e-reading device, was all that exciting.

  The refreshments’ trolley when it came round was another cause for wonder and, because there was so much to consider, he took an awfully long time making his own choices, to the amusement of the other passengers and the barely concealed impatience of the vendor.

  Jon and I softened our stance regarding healthy eating for Will, just for the one day, but half a packet of crisps and a few sips of a fizzy drink later, both were discarded and he was back to his window seat watching the world, literally, go by from a different perspective.

  ‘Look, horses,’ he exclaimed shrilly as the train cut a swath through the New Forest, and when the old lady sitting opposite laughed, I explained, ‘We don’t see many horses in Brankstone.’

  ‘How lovely to see things through the eyes of a child,’ she smiled. ‘We get far too blasé about everything when we get older. And do you know where this train is going, young man?’ she asked Will.

  He turned to her, his eyes shining. ‘Oh, yes,’ he told her happily, ‘we’re going all the way to London.’

  ‘And do you like London?’

  ‘I love it.’ Will clasped his hands and positively beamed at the lady. ‘Tina, Calum and Leanne live there and there is a huge toy shop with more toys than anywhere else in the world.’

  He went back to gazing from the window, pointing out various things of interest to Jon who, to his credit, showed a huge amount of excitement at the sight of cows, sheep and t
he occasional dog.

  ‘He is a delightful child,’ the old lady said, ‘and he looks so much like you, my dear, with his dark hair – but, tell me, where does he get those beautiful green eyes from?’

  The colour drained from my face; I could actually feel it, and I glanced quickly in Jon’s direction. He appeared to be absorbed in Will’s view of the outside world, but as I couldn’t be sure he hadn’t heard the question I couldn’t just brush it off or try to ignore it.

  ‘Well,’ I said, ‘they’re actually more hazel really, which was the colour of my grandmother’s eyes, though they can look green in a certain light and, of course, when William is excited.’ I actually had no idea what colour either of my grandmothers’ eyes were, but I thought it sounded believable. Luckily, the lady was getting off at the next stop and there was little time to say more as I helped her gather her things together.

  Before she left the lady handed Will a five pound note, ignoring all of our protests, urging him to, ‘Have a wonderful time. I’m sure there are some delightful treats in store for you.’

  The exchange with the old lady about the colour of Will’s eyes had unsettled me, and I had to make a real effort to join in as we approached the capital and Will’s excitement increased accordingly.

  Jon had booked us a table for lunch at Bill’s Restaurant, which he had obviously chosen for its close proximity to the Lyceum Theatre. On reflection that hadn’t been the smartest move, because you would have to be stupid not to notice that The Lion King was being advertised outside of the theatre – and William was far from stupid.

  He wasn’t even out of the taxi before he was shouting, ‘Look, look,’ at the top of his voice.

  While Jon paid the taxi, I knelt beside Will on the pavement and, having decided that honesty was the best policy, I explained, ‘It’s where we’re going, Will, to see the stage show of The Lion King.’ I watched his eyes grow big and round and, while he was still stunned into silence, I added, ‘but first we’re having lunch in this restaurant.’

  ‘But...,’ he began, looking yearningly at the theatre.

  ‘There are no lions in the theatre yet, because they’ve also gone to have lunch.’

  ‘Lions get hungry, too,’ Jon joined in, winking at me.

  We went into the restaurant and were quickly shown to a table by a pretty waitress who didn’t hesitate when Will asked her if the lions would be coming in there for their lunch.

  ‘Well,’ she said, ‘they sometimes do, but not today.’ Then, seeing his face fall, she continued, ‘I think they ate early today because they heard someone special was coming to watch the show.’

  ‘Who is it?’ Will asked, entranced.

  Behind the menu she was passing me, she mouthed, ‘What’s his name?’ and I mouthed back, ‘William.’

  ‘Apparently, someone called William is coming to see the show and they want to make sure it’s an exceptional performance for him today.’

  ‘That’s my name,’ Will told her.

  ‘No?’ she gasped. ‘It must be you they were talking about then. Oh, I’m so pleased to meet you, William. You must be a very special little boy for them to be going to so much trouble.’

  After that, even with Will’s favourite fish finger sandwiches on the menu, all the coaxing in the world wasn’t going to get more than a bite or two into him. We also found it extremely difficult to enjoy the plain grilled steak with salad – no dressing – we had specially ordered in accordance with the sperm boosting diet we were following, when he was watching every mouthful we took with scarcely concealed impatience.

  ‘Keep hold of our hands,’ Jon urged sharply, as Will skipped out of the restaurant and, moving steadily, we joined what appeared to be hordes of people of all ages heading into the wonderful old theatre.

  A sudden surge forward wrenched William’s hand from mine and sent me staggering forward until I came to an abrupt halt as I slammed up against a tall figure.

  I don’t know what made me glance up, because my focus was on finding Jon and Will in the crowd, but look up I did – and I felt as if I’d been turned to stone.

  Chapter 11

  Time stood still as the crowd continued to push their way around us. It was him. There could be no mistaking who he was up this close. I hadn’t been mistaken that day in the department store either, not even with the gap of several years to dull memories of a man I would far rather forget.

  I’d forgotten he had a slight cleft in his chin and about the small mole at his temple, but not the green of his eyes or the proud jut of his nose. I brought my hands up in an instinctive movement and prepared to thrust him away. Then I realised he wasn’t looking at me – in fact, he seemed totally unaware of me and was looking at something over my head. I turned to see, and felt the blood turn to ice in my veins when I saw the focus of his attention was on Jon standing with William held high in his arms.

  I felt a terrified moan lodge in my throat, but before any sound could escape a woman grasped him by the arm and said, ‘Don’t just stand there staring into space, Gareth. We need to round up the children and find our seats or the show will start without us.’

  Mesmerized, I watched their slow progress through the throng of excited theatre-goers. It wasn’t difficult to track their movement because he stood head and shoulders above everyone else. She was only fractionally shorter with a cap of shining blonde hair and the sort of eye-catching looks that set her apart from the crowd.

  ‘There’s Mummy,’ Will’s voiced shrilled above the general hub-bub and, suddenly they were there beside me and Will was leaning forward, leaving Jon’s grasp to cling to me like a little monkey, arms tight around my neck and legs around my waist. I hung onto him for dear life.

  ‘We thought we’d lost you,’ Jon wrapped his arms around us both for a moment, and then looking down at me he held us tighter and sounded quite shocked as he said, ‘Hey, you look frightened to death, love. It’s ok, we would have found you, however long it took,’ and then laughing lightly he ushered us into the grandeur of the theatre itself.

  The front row seats that matched our tickets were a surprise that Jon had kept from us. Will was soon bouncing on his chair between the two of us, literally beside himself with excitement, as were all the children around us as they looked forward to the treat to come.

  I couldn’t relax at all. The back of my neck positively prickled at the thought that he – Gareth apparently, though I hadn’t known his name before today – could be sitting somewhere behind me watching us and thinking. Thinking what, I had no idea, no idea at all.

  I surreptitiously peered first over one shoulder and then over the other, but the sea of faces behind just merged into one whole ocean of constant movement as children jumped up and down and people frequently stood up to let others get to their seats.

  He was here, in the same theatre, waiting to watch the same show on the same day. What sort of coincidence was that? I asked myself. I hadn’t set eyes on the bloody man for seven years – seven years – and suddenly I was seeing him everywhere I went.

  Well, I tried as hard as I could to rationalise that, as Tina would surely have done – and, oh, how I wished she was here – to remind myself that I had actually seen the guy only twice before today, and one of those sightings wasn’t a definite one.

  As for him being in this theatre today of all days, as Tina would have been quick to remind me, thousands came from all over the UK to see The Lion King on a daily basis – two thousand one hundred at each performance I seemed to remember reading somewhere – so it would be pretty marvellous if you didn’t bump into at least one person you knew. It still seemed like a spectacular coincidence that it had to be him of all people.

  I was just wondering if there was any way I could stand up, turn around and take a proper look at the audience without Jon asking me what or who I was looking for, when the lights went down, the show began, and I forgot everything but the story unfolding around and in front of me.

  The whole thing was co
mpletely magical, from the opening scene when the animals walked through the theatre to get to the stage, and seeing the amazement on William’s face as they came close enough to touch, was absolutely priceless. It was possible to forget the animals were actually actors and the scenery just a stunning backdrop as you became part of the story of the young lion cub and his friends.

  Of course I wasn’t alone in not wanting the show to end and the unanimous and enthusiastic standing ovation was absolutely to be expected and truly earned by each and every member of the cast.

  ‘That’s not the end, is it?’ Will looked from one to the other of us, lip trembling and eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

  ‘They lived happily ever after,’ I reminded him gently. ‘Remember? We’ve read the book and watched the DVD over and over.’

  ‘But I want to see it all over again, Mummy.’

  ‘And so you shall, one day, if you’re a very good boy,’ I felt obliged to promise, with a rueful look at Jon.

  We left our seats and joined the mass exodus of the huge audience of thousands heading for the exits, making very sure we each held tightly to one of Will’s hands. It was noisy with children and adults alike discussing the show loudly and in detail, the songs, the scenery, the animals and the sadness and joy of the story itself.

  We had almost reached the foyer when there was a sudden jostling for space and Will’s hand was pulled from mine just as it had been on the way in. For a moment I panicked, and then reminded myself that Jon would have him safe, until I spotted him across a sudden clearing and realised with absolute horror that he was quite alone.

  I hurried to him, pushing people out of the way. ‘Where is he, Jon? Where’s Will?’ I could hear the shrill note of fear in my voice - see the unmistakable alarm in Jon’s blue eyes.

  ‘He’ll be here somewhere. He can’t have gone far.’ Jon was trying to sound reassuring, I could tell, but he wasn’t quite pulling it off and he looked every bit as scared as I felt.

  ‘Will, Will,’ I screamed, my head swivelling this way and that, my mind already understanding how impossible it was going to be to spot one small boy among so many families exiting the theatre.