Читать книгу Finding Lucy: A suspenseful and moving novel that you won't be able to put down - Diana Finley - Страница 18

I knew it was important to introduce Lucy to our neighbours, but the thought of how she might behave filled me with apprehension. I took her first to meet Frank and Molly Armstrong. Molly tried to lift her up into an embrace, but Lucy immediately uttered a squeal, wriggled free and retreated behind me.

‘Oh I’m sorry, Molly – she’s very shy at the moment,’ I said. Molly nodded knowingly and went to a low cupboard in the corner of the room. She extracted a decorated box, crouched on the floor and took the lid off. Lucy watched with interest from behind my legs.

‘Frank, bring that blue and white tin tray from the kitchen, would you, pet?’

Molly emptied a cascade of buttons from the box onto the tray with a satisfying tinging noise. She poured the buttons back into the box and then emptied them onto the tray again. Lucy was mesmerised.

‘There you are, Lucy. You have a look at the pretty buttons, but don’t put them in your mouth, mind.’

Lucy spent half an hour picking up one handful of buttons after another and letting them drop onto the metal tray, time and time again. She didn’t utter a word during the entire visit. Molly and Frank seemed unperturbed. They watched her absorption in the activity with satisfaction.

‘I’m afraid she’s been very quiet … since her daddy died …’ I mouthed at them behind my hand.

‘Don’t you worry, Alison. Your Lucy’s been through a difficult time. She’ll come round before you know it,’ Frank said softly, as Molly made us some tea.

* * *

A few days later I took Lucy to see the Harmons. Michael was at work, but Susan and the children were home. Claire and Charlie were delighted to see Lucy. They brought lots of their toys to show her. She stared wide-eyed at them from the safety of my chair, her expression frozen.

‘Why won’t she play?’ asked Charlie, frowning.

‘Just leave her alone; let her do what she wants,’ said Claire. Such a mature, sensible child.

‘Charlie, will you come and help me get some squash and snacks, please?’ said Susan. They disappeared to the kitchen together. Claire brought a pile of picture books, put them on the floor near Lucy, and retreated. Lucy looked at her and then looked at the books. She looked at me, and then at the books again.

Susan and Charlie brought in a tray. After a few minutes, when Claire and Charlie were occupied with a bowl of crisps and a plate of chocolate animals, Lucy crawled hesitantly across the carpet towards the books and began looking at them. Claire looked at me and her mother, and smiled. Susan winked at her.

I began to realise that Susan had what I had always felt lacking in myself: an instinctive understanding of the thoughts, feelings and reactions of other people. What a wonderful ability it seemed to be, and clearly something that Claire had inherited, or perhaps learned, from her mother. Perhaps, in time, I could learn such skills myself.