Read The Runaway Woman Online

Authors: Josephine Cox

Tags: #UK

The Runaway Woman (16 page)

‘But what about your tea? I know for a fact you’ve hardly eaten anything all day.’

‘I’ll get something – don’t worry, love. It’ll do me good to spend a little time with Kathleen. She makes me feel better about myself.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘I’m not sure exactly,’ Lucy detected
a little envy, ‘but she does make me smile, and she tells me off when it’s needed.’

‘Hmm! Well, that won’t do any harm, I’m sure. Not when you’re always thinking of others above yourself. Yes, Mum, you go and see your friend. If you want, Les can pick you up when you’re ready to come home.’

‘Thank you, but I’ll get the bus. There’s no need for Les to disturb his evening, but there is one thing
you could do for me if you can …?’

‘Oh, what’s that then?’

‘Well, there’s no food prepared for your father and Sam, and they’re bound to be starving hungry after being in the fresh air.’

Anne put her mother’s mind at rest. ‘I’ll get them fish and chips. The chip shop on Raymond Street is always open.’

‘So, how will you let them know? You can’t be sure what time they’ll get back.’

‘Like I
said, Mum, stop worrying about everyone else! I’ve still got your spare key. Les can take a note over and leave it in the kitchen where they’re bound to see it. They’ll call me, and either they can come to me and have their tea here, or Les will take the food to them. I’ll ask Sam to stay over at our house if he wants. See! It’s no problem … and nothing for you to worry about.’

‘Thank you, sweetheart.’

So, in spite of Lucy’s worrying, everything seemed to be slotting into place. There you are, Lucy girl, she told herself, it seems you’re not altogether indispensable after all. The trouble was, she could not make up her mind as to whether or not that was a good thing.

Ten minutes later, having called Kathleen, she was clambering aboard the bus.

‘Where to?’ The curly-haired conductress stood
back to let her pass.

‘Market Street, please.’ As Lucy was counting out her change, the bus suddenly moved off, and she quickly grabbed the rail.

‘Sit yourself down before you fall down!’ The conductress had a voice like a sergeant-major.

It was a ten-minute ride to Market Street, and almost as soon as she sat herself down, Lucy was clambering up again. ‘Wait until the bus stops!’ the conductress
bellowed. ‘Watch the step as you get off!’

With three other passengers in front of her, Lucy was impatient to get off the bus and be on her way. As Lucy shuffled along behind the other passengers, the conductress was issuing even more orders. ‘Come on … come on! We haven’t got all day.’

Everyone quickened their steps. ‘Miserable bugger!’ The fat man in front of Lucy raised his voice in contempt.
‘A bit of respect might not come amiss. I was in the army, I’ll have you know!’

The conductress ignored him until he was off the bus, when she yelled out, ‘In the army, were you?’ She was still shouting as the bus pulled away. ‘I might tell you, I was a Girl Scout and good at it! So, what do you think to that, eh?’ When the man chose not to answer, she raised her voice, ‘Oh, dearie me! Cat got
your tongue, has it?’

Suppressing a little chuckle, Lucy quickened her steps.

Kathleen’s house was just a five-minute walk away.

As she got nearer, Lucy’s heart felt a little lighter. Kathleen was always good to be with, and right now, Lucy was really looking forward to spending precious time with her.

On reaching the door, she carefully lifted the brass door knocker, and let it fall gently.

A moment later, the door was opened, and Kathleen flung her arms round her.

‘Oh, Lucy, are you all right?’ She urged her inside. ‘I made us a little cottage pie.’ She chatted incessantly as Lucy followed her down the passageway to the kitchen. ‘I know it’s a favourite of yours, but I’m not as good a cook as you, so you’ll have to forgive me if it tastes like rag chopped up.’

Lucy smiled. ‘Don’t
put yourself down, Kathleen,’ she said. ‘You’re as good a cook as anyone, including me.’

Kathleen wasn’t sure whether she should mention the day’s sad event, but then she decided that might be wiser than pussyfooting around it.

‘Did everything go as planned today, Lucy? I mean … was it a lovely service? I bet the church was packed, wasn’t it?’ Kathleen was not quite sure what to say in the circumstances.

‘Everything went as it should, I suppose,’ Lucy answered quietly.

‘Oh, Lucy, I’m sorry I couldn’t get the time off to be with you.’ Kathleen was desolate. ‘I did ask, but the boss seems to be getting stricter by the minute.’

Lucy understood. ‘She’s under a lot of pressure, I expect, and she did send some really beautiful flowers. Mind you, all the flowers were lovely … and the priest was very
caring and …’ When tears threatened, she paused to take a breath and gather herself. ‘So many people turned out, Kathleen. It was amazing. I never realised Mum and Dad had so many friends.’

Kathleen was not at all surprised. ‘Your mum and dad were a lovely couple. People took to them straight off, so they had a lot of friends. But what about you, Lucy? You look worn out.’

In truth she suspected
that Lucy had not enjoyed a good night’s sleep for some time – even before she lost her parents. ‘Are you coping all right … really?’ She lowered her voice. ‘Please, Lucy, don’t try dealing with everything yourself. There are people around you who want to help … as I do. You know what they say about a trouble shared.’

Lucy considered herself fortunate to have such a friend. ‘I know I would only
have to ask and you would be there for me. You always are. I’ll admit, though … losing Mum and Dad is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to deal with in my life.’ Her thoughts went to Paula and Martin, a burden that she really couldn’t share. ‘It’s difficult … but I’m coping … just about.’ In truth she was not coping at all.

‘I’m here for you, Lucy. Please don’t forget that.’ Kathleen suspected
Lucy must be in pieces, but, as always, she was putting on a brave face.

‘Don’t you worry … I’ll be fine,’ Lucy told her. ‘Everyone’s been so kind. Anne and Les have been amazing. They can’t do enough, but Anne worried me for a time. She was too quiet, hiding herself away.’

‘She was just doing her best to deal with it, I expect,’ Kathleen sympathised. ‘Everyone deals with grief in their own
special way. And what about Sam – is he dealing with it?’

‘I think so, but it’s really hard for him, Kathleen.’ Lucy gave a forlorn little smile. ‘He was his granddad’s little mate. The two of them got on so well, always talking about this and that. They had such a lot in common. Of course, Sam adored Mum too. She always treated him as an equal. He was not just her grandson, but also a friend
and confidant. But yes, I think he’s dealing with it in his own quiet way. I’m very proud of him, Kathleen. Somehow this whole dreadful business seems to have made him grow up all of a sudden.’

‘So, what about his plans for the future? I recall you mentioning that he had a yearning for college?’

‘Oh, yes, college is very much on the cards … His grandma persuaded him that he should try to do
as much as he can before he decides to settle down, and Martin and I have always agreed with that. Like I told Sam, though, if he’s really serious about college he must not leave it too late. If he wants to get anywhere in life, he needs to work at it. Thankfully, at long last, he seems to have taken all our advice to heart, because now he is determined to gain a place in college.’

‘Well, that’s
good. And like you say, if he wants it badly enough, I’m sure he’ll succeed in making you and Martin proud.’

Lucy agreed. ‘He’s a fine young man. It’s true that some time back he did get kind of lost, but now he seems to have found what he wants out of life, and I’m sure we will always be proud of him.’

‘Where is he now?’ Kathleen asked.

‘Martin’s taken him fishing.’

‘That was a good idea.
It’ll take both their minds off things for a while, don’t you think?’

When Lucy merely nodded, Kathleen suspected she was keeping something back. ‘You do intend staying a while, don’t you, Lucy?’

‘Yes, of course, and I’m looking forward to a small helping of that cottage pie.’ She was not all that hungry, but because Kathleen had gone to a deal of trouble, she would do her best to enjoy the
meal.

Kathleen laughed. ‘I wouldn’t be too keen if I were you. Come on! Off with your coat and on with the kettle! While you do that, I’ll dish up the cottage pie.’

While Lucy took off her coat and went to hang it up, Kathleen observed her. Kathleen appreciated how losing her parents had been a huge blow to Lucy – it showed in her sad eyes and the way in which she found it hard to talk about
them – but she was convinced that something else was troubling Lucy. Something of a private nature.

Kathleen knew Lucy like she might know her own sister, if she had one, and her every instinct told her that Lucy was in some kind of personal trouble.

Just now and then, she seemed to be miles away, lost so deep in her troubled thoughts that Kathleen was almost afraid to speak.

Kathleen knew
that Lucy rarely shared her troubles with anyone. This time, though, Kathleen hoped Lucy might find the strength to confide in her.

Across the kitchen, Lucy had a sneaking feeling that Kathleen was watching her, that she might have guessed how she was nursing another concern, one so crippling that she did not want to talk about it; not even to her one and only friend.

A short time later, the
two of them were seated at the kitchen table, enjoying Kathleen’s cottage pie.

‘Kathleen, this is really tasty.’ Lucy had not realised how hungry she was. ‘I’d even go so far as to say it’s much better than mine.’

Kathleen laughed. ‘You little liar!’ she teased. ‘Nobody’s cottage pie is better than yours.’

They ate and chatted, enjoying being together, but such was the atmosphere, it seemed
almost as though a third person was in the room with them.

After a while, Kathleen dared to ask, ‘What’s wrong, Lucy?’

Taken off guard by Kathleen’s direct question, Lucy said the first thing that came to mind. ‘That’s a strange thing to ask. What’s wrong is that I’ve just lost both my parents.’

‘I’m sorry, and I’m well aware of that, Lucy, and I can only imagine how hard it must be to cope
with.’ Kathleen went on gently, ‘Look, Lucy, I’ve long seen you as the sister I never had, and right now, I might be out of order in saying what’s on my mind. And if I am then I hope you’ll forgive me. It’s just that … while I’m aware of the loss of your parents, I’m worried that there’s something else troubling you. Something bad … of a personal nature, maybe. I just want to help, that’s all. Please,
Lucy … let me help.’

Lucy remained silent, which only fuelled Kathleen’s suspicions.

‘Lucy, I know you well enough to say what I think, and I feel there is something definitely playing on your mind. Something you obviously don’t want to talk about, but you must know, you can talk to me … about anything. I want to help. If you’re ill, or short of money, or anything at all … I want to help you
… as a friend.’

Lucy remained silent, her gaze fixed on the table. She wanted to confide in her friend, but she was too ashamed, and besides, no one could help. Not even Kathleen.

Kathleen, though, was gently insistent. ‘I know you really need to tell me, Lucy, and if you do, I promise, hand on heart, it will never go beyond this room. Talking about it will ease your mind and, who knows, I might
even be able to help in some way; whether it’s money, or health. And if you’re worried about losing your job for whatever reason, I can tell you now, the boss is well aware of how hard you work. She really does value you.’

Lucy glanced up, her heart heavy with the reality of what Martin and Paula had done. ‘There is something,’ she confessed quietly. ‘Like you said, it’s a personal matter, and
one which I have to somehow resolve myself. It’s not that I don’t trust you, because I do, and if I wanted to talk about it to anyone I would turn to you. But I can’t bring myself to talk about it. Not with you … not with anyone!’

Kathleen had never seen her so resolute. Nor had she ever seen those honest brown eyes so very sad. ‘All right, Lucy, but will you make me a promise, please? I know
you place great value on a promise, and you would never break it. So, will you make a promise … for me?’

‘If I can, yes.’

‘Thank you for that. So, if you do ever get to the point where you feel you need to confide in someone, will you let me help? You have my word, it will go no further, and I’ll do my utmost to help you.’

‘Yes, yes I will. Thank you, Kathleen. You’re a good friend. So now,
can we let it go?’

Kathleen reached out and covered Lucy’s hand with hers. ‘What do you mean?’ she smiled knowingly. ‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about!’

For the remainder of Lucy’s stay, there was no more talk of Lucy’s problem, or the promise she had made. It was as though that particular conversation never even happened.

The unspoken subject, however, continued to weigh heavily on both
their minds.

The evening was already creeping in, when Lucy decided to make her way home.

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