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Chapter Twelve

THOMAS TOOK HIS old jacket off the hall-stand and shrugged it on. He then put on his cap and wrapped his black-and-white chequered scarf round his neck. On this bright June morning it wasn’t really cold outside, but he was taking the lovely Eileen out, and he wanted to look his best.

She was decent and trusting, and it truly hurt him to see her the way she was. In a way, though, it was a merciful thing, he thought, because it prevented her from remembering all the bad things in her past. All the bad things that other people like him were doomed to relive time and again, through memories that were etched on their souls for all time.

Thomas wanted to believe that Eileen had escaped that kind of torment. He himself would never have that measure of peace, because far too much had happened over the years for him to ever forget, or forgive.

From childhood to manhood, Thomas Farraday could recall each and every regrettable thing that had been done by him and to him over the years. When, as a boy, he had been bullied at home by his father, and then at school by his own classmates, the only way he could protect himself and avoid being singled out was to turn the tables and become a bully himself.

He was haunted by one particular incident, when a crowd of boys waited for him outside school one day, and menacingly crowded round him, intent on doing him harm. Terrified, he had reacted by tearing into them before they could start attacking him – and in the chaos, one of the boys was sent reeling backwards into the road. The car that was passing had no chance of stopping, and the boy was run over; he suffered injuries that put him in hospital for weeks. Afterwards, no one knew who had actually hit him during the scuffle, but there was an investigation and severe reprimands for all. Suddenly, bullying was a thing of the past, and no one was more relieved than Thomas. Except he still had to go home to his violent father every night, and to this day, he looked on that terrible situation as his right and just punishment.

When he met Rose Willis, the lovely fair-haired girl who would later become his wife, it was as though everything in his life had come right at long last. The years fled by and their love grew stronger, but sadly, they were not blessed with children. That was something Thomas had longed for. To be a father who could rear his children with love and respect, to be a friend and confidante, someone who would show them the way. But it was not to be, and in time he came to accept that.

But then later, when Rose’s mother took ill, for weeks on end he was left alone, while she travelled the considerable distance to Lancaster to be there for her ailing mother. Of course he understood, but when he suggested bringing her mother home so the two of them could take care of her together, his wife would have none of it. She claimed it was her duty to keep her mother in the home she knew and loved, and of course he had to accept that decision, but what really hurt him was that she chose to visit alone.

When he offered to take time off from work, to go with Rose, she always refused, saying her mother was growing increasingly nervous and difficult, and that him being there would only upset her. And so, her visits to her mother grew longer, and he grew increasingly lonely, every minute of the day and night that she was away from him.

After her mother died, his wife grew cold and distant. Not long after that, the wife he so adored was gone for ever. The cruel, empty years that followed had been crippling.

Then one Saturday, Libby had asked if he could keep an eye on her mother, while she popped to the corner shop. Eileen had gradually gone downhill over the years – everyone had noticed and pitied her decline. So Thomas had gone next door and stayed with Eileen. She made him laugh, and when she smiled at him in that adorable, childish way, his heart came alive again.

Libby came home to find them chuckling and having a good old chin-wag. When Thomas retired, he told Libby he would sit with her mother any time. Libby began to lean on him more and more, until one day, with his blessing and mainly to bring some much-needed extra cash into the household, she acquired a part-time job at the local supermarket.

The day Libby began to entrust her darling mother to his care was the day that life began again for Thomas. It was also the day when he began to fall in love again – and it was a wonderful thing. Almost like being born again.

Closing the front door behind him now, Thomas left the house to go next door to Number 20.

Libby let him in. ‘Hello, Thomas,’ she said. ‘How are you today? I was just telling Mum that you’re taking her out for a few hours, and that she must listen to what you tell her, and stay with you at all times.’ In a lower voice she confided, ‘Knowing how she wanders off at the drop of a hat, I do worry, especially when she so loves to be near the lake.’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll keep a sharp eye out for her. I’ll never be more than an arm’s reach away at any given moment.’

‘I know that. But you didn’t mind me saying something, did you?’

Thomas shook his head, ‘Not at all! Now, look, my dear – you’d best get off to work. And stop worrying. Your mother will be fine. We both will.’ He smiled down at Eileen. ‘Won’t we, sweetheart?’

‘I am, yes, thank you, Thomas.’ Eileen had gone into a little world of her own.

As always, believing it to be the right thing to do, Thomas corrected her: ‘Eileen?’

‘Yes, Thomas?’

‘I just asked you a question, and you weren’t listening.’

‘Oh, and what did you say, then?’

‘I asked if you and me would be fine on our day out, just the two of us.’

‘Yes, Thomas. We’ll be fine.’ She looked up at him. ‘We will, won’t we?’

‘We certainly will, m’dear.’ He held her hand fast. ‘There won’t be anyone finer.’

‘So, where are we going?’

‘To the park, of course. You must remember that we talked about it yesterday.’ He prompted her to think back.

Eileen gave a frown, then she was smiling, ‘Oh, we’re going to see the ducks . . . and we’ve got a lovely picnic . . .’ She frowned. ‘. . . I think?’ She glanced at Libby.

‘Hey! What’s all this?’ Pointing to the bag on Libby’s arm, Thomas chided, ‘Don’t tell me you’ve packed us a meal?’

‘I have, yes. Sandwiches and fruit, and orange juice and some plastic cups.’

‘You’re too thoughtful,’ he tutted. ‘I know we’re two old ’uns, but we’re capable of finding the tearooms. I’m not short of a bob or two, neither. I’m sure I can afford a sandwich and a pot of tea.’

‘No, Thomas. Thank you all the same, but it’s enough you taking Mum to the park, without you having to spend your money as well.’

A few minutes later, Thomas had secured Eileen into the front passenger seat of the car and they were ready to leave. ‘Right then, Libby, let’s have that picnic bag.’

When she passed it over, he groaned and made a big fuss over it, as though in agony. ‘Oooh, it’s too heavy for an old fella like me!’ He gave her a wink as he said to Eileen, ‘I reckon your daughter’s trying her best to finish me off!’

Eileen laughed heartily, ‘You’re a comedian, that’s what you are, Thomas.’

Satisfied that everything was in order, Libby gave Thomas a little peck on the cheek, then hugged her mother. ‘I’m away to work now, Mum. You have a really lovely day, and I’ll see you both later.’

‘And you be a good girl, while we’re gone!’ Eileen told her. ‘Else you’ll have your father after you.’

Her comment did not surprise Libby, but she felt obliged to remind her gently, ‘Daddy was a long time ago, Mum,’ she said softly. ‘It’s just you and me now.’

Though Libby’s own memories of her father were very limited, she knew that he was always strong in her mother’s mind. Whenever Eileen talked of him, Libby felt her pain. It was such a sad thing.

Eileen and Thomas waved her off. ‘That’s it, my beauty.’ He made sure Eileen’s seatbelt was secure.

Eileen was still waving. ‘Where’s she gone?’

‘She has to be at work,’ he reminded her. ‘And now, we’d best be on our way.’

‘Where are we going, Thomas?’

‘Where do you want to go?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Yes, you do.’

‘Do I?’

‘Think hard, my lovely. We’ve been there before, lots of times. It’s a place you love to be. It’s where you always ask me to take you.’

Eileen went quiet, almost sulky. Then, with a little shout and a clap of the hands, she cried out. ‘The park! We’re going to the park!’

Thomas gave a whoop. ‘That’s right, my darling. We’re going to the park. What a clever girl you are.’

‘I know.’ She gave a proud little giggle. ‘I’m a clever girl.’

Her simple joy made Thomas smile. In her declining health, he had never known Eileen be angry or spiteful. Instead she was always thoughtful and caring. Yet, she was often afraid, and occasionally she would jump at either himself or Libby for the simplest things, like forgetting to put the sugar in her tea, or plumping the cushion too much in her favourite chair.

Somehow, over the years, almost without him real-ising, this wonderful lady had become the light of his life. He never told her, because in the circumstances, it was not the thing to do. But it was a joy to be with her. Considering how very much he had loved his wife, his deep feelings for Eileen in these later years had come as a great surprise to him.

Corporation Park was not far away – through the back streets then along King Street and up Montague Street, and there, high above the town itself, was the proud, impressive entrance, hiding a secret that would amaze and delight the unsuspecting visitor.

Built many years ago, amidst great pomp and celebration, this magnificent park was not only a haven of beauty and delight, it was also a treasured refuge from the busy lives and relentless duties of the townsfolk.

With an impressive stone lion at either side of the tall iron gates, and the first sighting of that wide lane meandering its way up through the heart of the park, the mere act of leaving the mayhem behind, to stroll through that man-made paradise, was a joy in itself. If the heart was heavy when the visitor walked inside, it became lighter after spending precious time within the tranquil beauty of that most exquisite place.

‘Here we are!’ Because vehicles were not allowed within the park, Thomas turned immediately left before its gates. It took him but a minute to find a suitable spot for parking. ‘Right then, m’darling, let’s get you out.’

Just a few moments later they were ready to go, with the picnic bag hanging on Thomas’s arm.

Eileen was like a child let loose in a sweet-shop. ‘Ooh, can we go to the lake? I want to feed the ducks. I know we have bread, because Libby told me.’

‘We can go anywhere your heart desires,’ Thomas promised; and Eileen was content in the knowledge that he would keep his word.

‘We’re fortunate to have such a lovely day,’ he said as they made their way down the lane and into the park. ‘June can be a funny month sometimes. Even so, I’d have still brought us here, even if it was raining cats and dogs.’

‘I never said it was raining!’

‘No, sweetheart, I know you didn’t say it was raining.’

‘So, what did I say, then? Tell me what I said!’ She grew agitated.

Thomas stopped by a rosebed.

‘No need for you to get upset,’ he said gently. ‘You’ve done nothing wrong.’

Unsure, Eileen looked him in the eye. ‘Who said I was upset?’

‘No one.’

Eileen tutted. ‘Oh, so that’s all right then, isn’t it?’

Thomas was very careful in his approach. ‘Well, yes, everything seems all right to me.’

‘So why have we stopped, especially when it’s about to rain?’

He gave her a peck on the cheek. ‘It’s not going to rain, love. I think we got a bit lost in our conversation just then – about the rain and such.’

‘You said it was raining, not me! You’re all mixed up, Thomas.’ She wagged a finger. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with you.’

Thomas felt the laughter bubbling inside, and try as he might, he could not hold it back. ‘Do you have any idea how much I love you?’

‘I love you too,’ she said sternly. ‘Now stop being silly.’ Then, in a quieter voice, she said, ‘Thomas?’

‘Yes?’

‘You do love me, don’t you, Thomas?’

‘I certainly do, yes.’

‘Do you want to know something?’

‘If you like, yes.’

‘I love you too.’

And because she had uttered those sincere words when her mind appeared to be fully alert, Thomas found he was too choked up to make an immediate reply. Then he cleared his throat and told her, ‘That is such a wonderful thing for you to say.’

‘Would you do something for me, Thomas?’

‘Of course – if I can.’

The confident little glance she gave him was that of a woman at peace with herself. ‘May I please have a proper kiss?’

Thomas was pleasantly surprised. He had already kissed her, but he thought maybe she’d forgotten.

Growing impatient, she raised her small hands to place them either side of his face, and when she smiled at him in a special way, with her brown eyes sparkling, he felt his heart turn over. ‘I’m waiting for my kiss, Thomas,’ she said. ‘A proper one, mind.’

Gingerly placing his hands over hers, then easing them into his large fists, he leaned forward and kissed her softly on the cheek.

When he moved away, she caught hold of his arm and kept him there. ‘Naughty Thomas!’ She suddenly closed her eyes, lifted her face up to him, and in a small, trembling voice she whispered, ‘Please, I need a proper kiss.’

In the whole of his life, Thomas Farraday had never experienced emotions such as now, when his heart turned inside out, and he was lost as to what he should do. There was nothing he would like more, than to give her a ‘proper’ kiss, providing he could remember what a proper kiss was! He had been without a woman for so long, he could hardly remember.

He must not take advantage of Eileen, in her fragile state of mind – that would be a shocking betrayal of trust. So he smiled and brushed away her request for a ‘proper kiss’. ‘We’d best get a move on, m’dear,’ he said casually. ‘We don’t want to miss the ducks, now do we, eh?’

When he tried to make a move, she held him there. ‘Thomas!’

‘Yes?’

‘I’m waiting.’

Emotionally torn, he leaned forward, like a shy boy on his first date. Tenderly placing his lips over hers, he was shocked by the warm softness of her skin against his mouth, and the way her lips opened to his.

When she raised her arms to wrap them about his neck and draw him ever closer, the long, sorry years fled away. He was a vibrant young man again, with a young man’s heart and soul.

For what seemed the longest and most wonderful moment of his life, Eileen held him close. She was his sweetheart, and he was her man. And the stirring of emotion, so deep and amazing, took his breath away.

It was a long kiss. The kiss of true lovers. And when it was over, he knew he would never forget that very special moment. He would cherish the memory. It would go with him to the grave.

When she released him and looked up into his astonished face, her tender expression revealed the true strength of the love she felt for him. It was there, too, in the light of her shining eyes. She was a woman in love. A woman who trusted him enough to allow him into her heart. In that lingering moment, her eyes told him more than a thousand words ever could.

Then, without warning, her smile was gone; the light in her eyes grew dim, and the cruel cloak of twilight passed over her mind. The magic had flown, and now she was fiddling with her hair, twirling it round and round in her fingers, until it seemed she might pull it out by the roots. ‘Don’t do that, sweetheart.’ He softly laid his hand over hers.

‘Thomas?’

‘Yes, what is it?’

Her face lit up. ‘I’m glad you’re here.’

Thomas nodded. ‘I’m glad as well.’ Today was turning out to be a very emotional journey.

‘I’m really glad you’re here.’ She was so pleased, she repeated it: ‘I’m glad you’re here.’ Her voice faltered. ‘Did I say that right, Thomas?’

‘Yes, you said it right – twice, in fact.’ The whisper of a smile crossed his face. ‘Well done.’

When he now clapped his hands, she clapped hers too. ‘See!’ She wagged a finger at him. ‘I know what I said, and it’s not raining yet. So get a move on, Thomas, before the skies open!’

Because it had confused her, Thomas was beginning to wish he’d never even mentioned the damned rain!

It was as well she couldn’t see him quietly smiling as he walked with her down the path beside the pretty flower-beds. With every passing second he loved her that little bit more, until his heart was fit to burst. ‘I do love you, Eileen,’ he muttered softly under his breath.

‘That’s ’cause you belong to me,’ she said matter-of-factly.

The tears quickening in his eyes, Thomas pretended not to have heard her. Instead, he said in a firm voice, ‘Watch out, you ducks, here we come!’

As they made their way up the hill, he warned himself that just now, when she claimed that he ‘belonged’ to her, Eileen was probably thinking about her late husband, Ian. She did that often, talking to him as though he was the husband she had loved and lost. Many times she addressed Libby, poor girl, as though her father was still with them.

Both he and Libby had come to accept the situation, but whenever Eileen addressed him as though speaking to her husband, the pain of it all was like a clenched fist inside Thomas.

The first stop was the lake. It was a long, hard walk, though as they followed the path up into the spinney, the birdsong and the pleasant scents wafting from the myriad blooms of every colour, shape and size, made the way less arduous and more of a journey for the soul. ‘Look, Thomas – look there!’

Eileen had spotted two doves. So close you could reach out and touch them, they were settled on a tree-branch, face to face, making loving noises while they inched closer together.

Thomas came to a halt a short distance away. ‘Ssh!’ Putting his finger to his lips, he whispered, ‘We mustn’t frighten them away,’ and she gave a little nod of understanding.

For what seemed an age, Eileen remained mesmerised, her face tilted upwards and her eyes wide with amazement. She kept smiling at Thomas, who was congratulating himself because he’d chosen to go the longest route to the lake. He could so easily have gone straight up the main walkway, but they would have missed all the glorious sights that now surrounded them.

When they arrived at the man-made lake, Thomas slung the picnic bag over his shoulder and, giving Eileen his other arm to hang on to, they walked arm in arm to the bench at the edge of the lake, where he sat her down, before dropping the bag on the grass.

‘Are you hungry?’ he asked.

‘Not yet.’

‘Thirsty?’

‘No, thank you, Thomas.’

Leaning back against the bench, she sat very still, watching the water as the gentle breeze moved it along in gentle ripples. And while she watched the water, Thomas watched her, thinking that he was more content than any man deserved to be.

After a while, Eileen grew restless. ‘Where are the ducks, Thomas?’

‘Oh, I’m sure they’ll be along in a while. I expect they’re hiding under the bushes, having a little kip.’

‘Promise?’

‘I don’t know if I should.’

‘Are you fibbing, then?’

‘I hope not.’

‘So, promise me, then.’

‘What exactly do you want me to promise?’

She looked at him in puzzlement. ‘How should I know?’

‘Well, if you don’t know, I’m sure I don’t.’

‘There you go again, Thomas! You’ve no idea what you’re talking about. You’ve got it all mixed up again.’

Thomas pointed to the reeds. ‘OK, then. D’you see them reeds there?’

‘Where?’

He pointed again. ‘There – see?’

‘Yes.’

‘Any minute now them ducks will pop their little heads out, to have a look at you and me.’

And sure enough, when Eileen stretched her neck to see, the mother and her babies swam out, as if to say hello. Eileen laughed and clapped her hands and if Thomas had not stopped her, she would have gone right to the edge of the lake to see them.

‘Not so fast!’ Carefully, Thomas took her by the hand and led her down the path, where the two of them stood on the grass to watch as the little family swam to the far edge and waddled ashore.

Eventually, Thomas laid out the picnic rug and the two of them sat and enjoyed a lunch of ham-and-cress sandwiches, followed by home-made apple pie, all washed down with a measure of orange juice from the little plastic tumblers packed by Libby.

When the meal was over and everything was put away, Thomas took out his pipe and puffed away contentedly, while beside him, Eileen was happy just to sit and throw bread to the ducks and other birds scavenging for crumbs of food.

Now and then, Thomas would steal a private glance at Eileen. He saw how she had her face upturned to the sun, and he thought this was how it should be: him and his darling, side by side, so very much in love as they watched the world go by. Then he thought of her late husband and he was filled with remorse. Ian Harrow should be here, sharing the day with Eileen. He should be here, to hold her and give her a ‘proper’ kiss. But he wasn’t, and that was the shame of it.

When later, all his baccy was burned up, Thomas tapped out his pipe and put it away. ‘Do you fancy a walk along the lakeside and up to the conservatory?’ he asked Eileen.

‘Oh, yes please, Thomas!’ Eileen was excited. ‘I would like that very much.’

He was thrilled that this time Eileen had not mistaken him for her husband, as she often did. This time, she had actually asked for ‘Thomas’ to take her.

Hoisting the empty bag over one shoulder, he linked arms with Eileen, taking great care to keep her away from the water’s edge. ‘You must let me know if you get tired,’ he warned. ‘I don’t want you exhausting yourself.’

To which Eileen promptly replied, ‘I’m stronger than you – that’s what Libby said.’

Amused, he asked, ‘Oh, she did, did she?’

‘Yes.’ Eileen tried to recall what her daughter had said. ‘A man does not . . . have the same . . . he does not . . .’ She stopped, then she blew out her cheeks in frustration. ‘Oh dear! I know she said something. All I know is that I am a woman, and I’m stronger than you, ’cause you’re a man.’

Quietly amused, Thomas gave her no argument, except to suggest, ‘If it gets too hot, we’ll go and sit under the trees, shall we?’

Eileen had a great passion for trees. ‘Oh yes, I’d like that.’

Seeing that she looked tired, he slowed the pace as they headed off towards the tropical plant-houses. When they got within sight of the towering glass buildings, Eileen grew nervous. ‘I don’t want to go inside there. I don’t like them big plant-things. They might gobble you up if you’re not careful.’

Because of her fears and the fact that she was tiring now, Thomas took a different, much slower, route. Soon, they had passed the flower-beds, and now they had the old trees in their sights. It was rumoured that these ancient fields, and the timeless woods held many secrets. During the day the park was a bright, open space filled with families and echoing to the laughter of children, but when everyone had gone and darkness fell, it was a brooding, forbidding place. Maybe that was why, from midnight to sunrise, the park was deserted – even though the gates remained open.

Eileen was fascinated by the trees. ‘They hide the sky and you can’t see the sunshine.’ Seated on a wooden bench beside the lion fountain, she pointed to the tallest of them. ‘Look! I can’t see the sun any more.’

‘That’s because the branches and leaves create a massive canopy, shutting out the daylight.’ It saddened him to realize how Eileen’s dementia would suddenly cut into her mind make her a small child again, even if only for a few moments.It was cruel thing.

‘Thomas?’

‘Yes?’

‘Are the trees taller than the houses?’

‘Much, much taller.’

‘Look at that one.’ She pointed to a particularly magnificent spruce. ‘How did it get to be that big?’

‘It’s very old, sweetheart.’

‘Yes, but how did it get so big?’

Not being an expert on trees, Thomas tried to explain in simple terms. ‘Let me see. Well, first of all, they’ve got roots, y’see. The roots are deep under the ground. They’re long and winding, a bit like arms. They can reach out, searching and feeling. Looking for any food or goodness in the soil. Then they suck it up, and it goes into the branches and the leaves, and that’s how the tree grows so big.’

‘Oh, now I see . . . I think.’ When Eileen fell silent again, Thomas thought she might be getting tired. ‘I reckon it’s time we headed for home,’ he said.

Eileen gave a little nod. She stared into the distance, her mind elsewhere.

‘Is anything wrong?’ he asked worriedly. She had grown unusually quiet.

In a soft, anxious voice, she asked, ‘Can we go home, please, Thomas?’

‘Course we can, my darling.’

‘Thank you, Thomas.’

‘It’s my fault,’ he chatted on. ‘I ought never to have kept you out so long.’ He had been enjoying himself so much, he’d simply lost track of time. ‘I’m sorry I tired you out. But we’ll be home soon. After you’ve had a little sleep, you’ll feel right as rain.’

In the car, Eileen remained deep in thought. But when they approached Peter Street, she cried out, ‘Stop the car, Thomas!’

Alarmed, he did an emergency stop. ‘Good grief, Eileen!’ He felt shaken. ‘Whatever made you scream out like that? Whatever’s wrong?’

Leaning over, he checked her seat-belt and found it still fastened. ‘You mustn’t yell out like that when I’m driving along – unless there’s an emergency.’ A thought occurred to him. ‘Do you want to spend a penny, is that it?’

‘No.’ She pointed down Peter Street, to the old church. ‘I need to go in there.’

Thomas was puzzled, ‘Why would you need to go into the church? We should be getting back, sweetheart. What if I bring you here on Sunday?’

‘I need to go now.’

Thomas had little choice but to do as she asked. So he parked outside and walked her to the church doors. He was about to go in with her, when she told him emphatically, ‘No. I need to go in on my own.’ So he watched her go in, then returned to wait in the car.

A few moments later, unable to relax, he was out again, peering in through the big doors to see her kneeling up at the front, before the altar, head bent forward and hands together as though in prayer. Whatever was she thinking? He had never known her be like this before. A niggling thought came into his mind.

Braving her displeasure, he went softly to her side and knelt down, only to receive a scolding. ‘You must go away from here!’ she hissed. ‘Please, Thomas, leave me be.’

Concerned, he returned to his car, from where he anxiously watched the door, waiting for her to emerge.

Inside the church, Eileen knelt before the altar, her head bowed and her heart heavy. She knew He was there, bleeding on the cross, punished for the sins of others. The tears trickled down her face. He was being punished for her sins too. He was suffering because of her, and the bad things she had done.

‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured over and over. ‘I didn’t mean for it to happen, and I’m truly sorry.’

She knew there was something terrible, but she couldn’t remember what it was. Blinded by the tears, she looked up into that beautiful, loving face, and her heart was calmer.

There was so much she needed to tell Him. Secret things, that frightened her. A heavy burden which she was finding increasingly hard to carry. Time and again she had tried so hard to remember, but she couldn’t. All she knew was that she had been bad, and that she needed to be punished.

She tried to remember but it was all muddled in her memory; it was midnight and the moon was low. Something bad was happening and the shocking things she had witnessed. ‘Help me, Lord,’ she murmured. ‘Please help me.’

She began rocking back and forth, increasingly agitated. ‘Oh dear! Oh, dearie me!’ Her quiet sobs echoed through the emptiness. The darkness and the shocking images would never leave her. It was a terrifying burden.

Exhausted and unsure, she made the sign of the cross on herself, stood up, and out loud, she implored Him: ‘Please, Lord, watch over me. Make me good. And please, I need You to love me.’

And then she stumbled down the aisle and out of the door, as though the devil himself was chasing her.

Shocked to see her hurrying towards him, sobbing and calling out his name, Thomas scrambled out of the car and brought her safely back. ‘It’s all right,’ he soothed her. ‘I’ve got you now.’ He was unsettled. What could have happened inside the church to upset her like that? Yet, she had been unsettled since they left the park, ‘Eileen?’

‘I don’t want to talk to you.’ She was frantic. ‘I don’t want you to kiss me again!’

When she began sobbing, there was nothing he could do except start the car and drive her home. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said sincerely. ‘You’re right. I should never have kissed you like that.’ Now he felt as though he’d betrayed her. He should have realised that when she asked him for a ‘proper’ kiss, she really had no idea of what she was asking. But it was not her fault. It was his! He should have been the responsible one.


They covered most of the journey home in absolute silence. But by the time they reached Bower Street, Eileen was chatting away as normal, as though nothing had transpired. Thomas was still in a state of anxiety, but Eileen was incredibly calm, even relaxed.

‘Thank you for taking me to see the ducks, Thomas.’ She patted his hand. ‘When we go again, the little babies will be all grown up, won’t they?’ Her smile was wonderful.

Amazed and shaken by the complete change in her manner, Thomas answered softly, ‘Yes, I believe they will.’ The episode with the kiss, and then the need to visit the church, all appeared to have been forgotten. He was thankful for that much at least.

‘Thomas?’

‘Yes, m’dear?’

‘I’ve been bad, haven’t I?’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Tell me if I’ve been bad. I need to know.’

‘Of course you haven’t.’ He was troubled by her question.

She gave a huge sigh. ‘I love you, Thomas.’

In view of her upset today, he wisely decided not to respond to her declaration of love. Outside the house just as he was getting her out of the car, Libby walked along the street. ‘Well, that was good timing,’ said Thomas. ‘Your Libby’s here. Look!’

Libby ran to hug her mother. ‘Did you have a good time today, Mum?’

Eileen nodded. ‘We went everywhere. We saw the ducks and the big old trees, and it was sunny, then it was raining, and then it was sunny again.’ She laughed out loud. ‘Thomas got it all mixed up!’

Thomas explained, ‘We did have a lovely time.’ Handing Libby the picnic bag, he wisely made no mention of Eileen’s disturbing mood, and how she had gone into the church, only to come out in a blind panic.

‘She’s tired,’ he said. ‘I really should have brought her back earlier.’

Eileen swiftly corrected him. ‘My legs are tired, Thomas, but I’m not tired!’ She gave a long yawn.

‘Aw, she’ll be fine.’ Libby thanked Thomas. ‘I’ll get her a hot drink, then put her to bed for an hour. I imagine you’re ready for a rest yourself. I can’t thank you enough. You’re a dear friend to both of us.’

‘You get some rest,’ he told Eileen. ‘I’ll see you later.’

Pursing her lips, she kissed him on the cheek. ‘Thank you, Thomas.’

Feeling a little easier, Thomas said, ‘It’s me that should be thanking you. I’ve had a wonderful day.’ Apart from the church episode, he thought worriedly. He was momentarily taken aback when Eileen said, ‘You mustn’t worry about me, Thomas.’ He had an odd feeling, almost as though she was reading his mind.

Libby’s voice cut the silence. ‘You’re very welcome to stay and have a drink with us, if you like?’

Thomas graciously refused, ‘I’ll no doubt see you tomorrow, eh?’

As Thomas said his goodbyes, he glanced back as Eileen turned her head to look at him. Her expression was one of gratitude, love and absolute trust.

He thought of the wonderful kiss they had shared and couldn’t help feeling deeply guilty about it.


It was almost midnight when Libby awoke. Something had disturbed her. She got out of bed and went to the window, to look out at the darkness. It was a strange night, she thought. Nothing moved. Everything was too still, too silent. The sky was magnificent – dark and ominous – a night you would not want to be out in. Through the branches of the trees, she could see the moon, hanging like a huge lantern, sending shivers of light across the darkness.

Entranced, Libby was loath to tear herself away, but then she heard the same sound that had awoke her before – a kind of muffled whimper, as though someone was crying. Immediately, she ran out of the room and along the landing. At her mother’s door, she stopped to listen, and she heard the crying. ‘Mum?’ She tapped her knuckles against the wood. ‘Mum, are you all right?’

There was another, different sound, like a chair being moved. ‘Yes, thank you.’

Libby was not convinced. ‘May I come in for a minute?’

‘Why?’

‘Just to see if you’re OK.’

‘All right.’

Libby went inside and found the room in total darkness but for the shaft of moonlight that filtered in through the window. ‘Whatever are you doing there, Mother?’

Eileen was in her nightie, standing by the open window; the curtains, too, were wide open. The room was bitterly cold.

‘Come away from there, Mother!’

Libby hurried across the room. ‘It’s freezing in here. You’ll catch your death!’

As though she hadn’t heard, Eileen remained where she was. ‘Look at that.’ Pointing to the trees, she told Libby, ‘Did you know that trees have arms under the ground?’

Libby closed the window. ‘Trees don’t have arms,’ she answered thoughtfully. ‘They have roots – but I suppose you could say they might look a bit like arms, all long and skinny . . . alive and moving about.’

‘That’s right.’ What Libby had said had reinforced the image in her mother’s mind.

Libby sighed. She was tired after her stint at the supermarket, and aching to get back to her warm bed. ‘It’s late, Mum. Why are we talking about trees, especially at this hour?’ She was so tired she could hardly think straight.

Eileen was gazing out of the window. ‘I like the trees,’ she murmured, as though talking to herself. ‘We need them, don’t we? We’ll have to get some and put them in the garden. Get Thomas some as well, and then we’ll be all right, won’t we?’

‘Mum, can we talk about all this tomorrow?’

Eileen went on, ‘If we have trees, and they have arms that go out looking for food, they’ll gobble up all the good things, and the bad things too. And then the bad things are gone forever, aren’t they?’

Libby drew the curtains. ‘If you say so, Mum.’ She was used to her mother’s strange ideas when her mind wandered.

‘That would be good, because then all the bad things could never come back. Nothing could hurt us any more, so we wouldn’t be afraid then, would we?’

Libby led her back to bed. ‘There is nothing to be afraid of,’ she said comfortingly. ‘At least not in here’ – she glanced at the window – ‘and not out there either.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I’m positive. Now then, it’s obvious you’ve had some kind of bad dream, but you should not be out of bed, especially with the window and the curtains wide open.’

She needed to know her mother was safe. ‘Look, Mum, it might be best if you come and sleep with me tonight.’

Eileen was adamant. ‘Certainly not! I have my own bed. I’m not a baby.’

‘All right, but if you need me, just call and I’ll be here straight away. OK?’ Libby kissed her goodnight for the second time. ‘I’m glad you enjoyed yourselves today.’

‘Thomas kissed me.’

Libby smiled at that, ‘He thinks a lot of you.’

‘And I think a lot of him.’

‘Good. Now, please – can we both get some sleep?’

Back in her own bed, Libby lay awake for an age, listening and wondering, and smiling at the thought of Thomas giving her Mum a kiss, ‘Thomas kisses everybody,’ she told George, her teddy bear. ‘I bet he was a real ladies’ man in his time.’

After a few minutes of blessed silence, with no sounds emanating from her mother’s room, she fell into a deep sleep.

Next door though, Eileen could not sleep. She got quietly out of bed again and, tiptoeing over to the window, she opened the curtains and looked out.

It was past midnight, but the scene had not changed. The skies were pitch-black, save for hazy shafts of moonlight. The emptiness beneath was interspersed with all manner of eerie things: crooked tree-branches and other, ominous shapes. Each one different, and so incredibly still.

Eileen’s curious gaze fixed on them one after the other, looking, imagining, until the fear took hold again.

It was the same. Always the same.

Quickly now, she closed the curtains and climbed back into bed. She remembered what Libby had said, that they would talk about it tomorrow, but she didn’t want to talk about it. Not any more. Not ever! Because if she didn’t talk about it, maybe it would all go away, and she wouldn’t be afraid ever again.

She searched her mind for the pictures, but she couldn’t find them. They’d gone away. But they would be back.

They always came back.

Josephine Cox 3-Book Collection 1: Midnight, Blood Brothers, Songbird

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