Читать книгу A Silent Love - Susan Wright - Страница 4

Jessie leaned back and closed her eyes. She enjoyed the gentle rocking motion of the train, as it carried them on their journey. Allison was sound asleep, with her head resting on the railway pillow. They were travelling on the night train to Christchurch. Following their journey in the mail van, they had caught the bus into Invercargill. They spent the afternoon wandering around the shops. However neither of them had been in the mood for shopping, it merely had been a means of passing the time. Finally they went to the station to wait for the train. Jessie thought it highly unlikely, but she dreaded the thought of Paul turning up and making a scene. The sooner they were on their way the better. They had sat in the waiting room and eaten the doorstep sandwiches that Fred had so lovingly made for them. They purchased their tickets and pillows. Then they watched the hands of the big Railway Station clock, as it moved ever so slowly, towards departure time. Finally, the Guard blew his whistle, and with an almighty lurch forward, the train slowly gathered speed.

Allison had never been on a train before and she held her mother’s hand tightly out of fear and excitement. Fear soon gave way to joy, and soon she was peering out the window, with fascination at the passing scenery. At one of the seemingly never-ending stops, they had bought a railway pie and a cup of tea. They laughed at each other’s effort, as they struggled to get back on the train, trying not to spill their tea. Some time later when daylight had given way to the night shadows, Allison drifted off to sleep. Jessie leaned over and brushed a feather-like kiss on her brow. She now had the enormous responsibility, of looking after her handicapped daughter. She determined that she would do everything within her power to make her happy.

It was now nearly midnight and she was still awake. It had been such an eventful day. Although very tired, sleep continued to evade her. She wished that she had thought of bringing something to read. Taking out the envelope that Fred had given her, earlier in the day she decided to read what he had written for her benefit. Now as she studied the envelope she realised that it was quite thick. In the dim light of the train she opened it and took out the contents. Encased in a single sheet of writing paper was five hundred pounds. Jessie let out such a gasp that, she immediately clasped her hand over mouth to stop any further noise. It was then she realised why he had not wanted her to open the envelope until later. Choking with emotion, she put the money and the letter back into the envelope. ‘Thank you Fred,’ she said quietly. She vowed that at some stage later, she would repay him every penny. She cried silent tears into her pillow, before finally drifting off to sleep.

The next thing she knew Allison was shaking her awake. The Guard was making his rounds checking everyone’s tickets. Only half awake she fumbled in her bag before producing the tickets.

‘Good morning to you both. And a lovely morning it is. We will be arriving in Christchurch in less than an hour. Breakfast is being served in the cafeteria.’ He punched their tickets. He carried on down the carriage bidding everyone a good morning, and informing them about the arrival time and breakfast arrangements. He spoke in such a loud voice, that right from his very first passenger everyone had heard.

They sat in the cafeteria and surveyed the breakfast set before them. Bacon, eggs, kidneys and tomatoes, toast and marmalade and a huge pot of tea. They were both ravenous and ate with relish the huge breakfast. Later after making a few inquiries they found their way to the bus terminal. After living a lifetime on the farm and never going anywhere, they were both understandably feeling travel weary. However there was only one leg of the journey ahead of them. During their ride on the bus Jessie explained to Allison about the cottage that Fred had so generously given them to use. She became quite emotional when she told her about the money that he had put in the envelope. Allison looked at her mother in wonderment. Five hundred pounds was almost more money than she could comprehend. ‘What will we do with all that money?’

‘I am not going to spend it unless it becomes absolutely essential. I am going to deposit it in the bank. In time when we become established I plan to return the money to Fred, after all he is an old man. I am sure that one day he will want to retire.’

‘How are we going to earn money? I can’t to leave school and find a job for at least two years.”

‘You are not leaving school when you are fifteen as your brother has done. I want you to have a proper education. Just you leave the matter of earning money to me.’ Jessie had spoken so sternly to Allison that she acknowledged her mother’s authority by not arguing. Instead she leaned back in her seat and enjoyed the constantly changing scenery.

An elderly woman sitting in a seat opposite had watched the mother and daughter converse in sign language, and thought it a shame that such an attractive young woman, should have such a handicap. ‘Has your daughter always been deaf?’ She politely asked. Jessie did not immediately recognise that the woman had spoken to her. In her troubled mind she was considering whether she had been right to leave the relative security of her home. Even as a mother she felt like a failure, going off and leaving her son without any regrets. Then the mental picture of Steven sniggering at her, as she recoiled from Paul’s fist convinced her she had been right. Neither of them was worth worrying about. She became aware that someone had spoken to her. ‘I am sorry, did you speak to me?’

‘I asked if your daughter had always been deaf.’

‘Yes, she has.’

‘I think it is amazing, that you can converse apparently so fluently with your hands.’

‘It was not always so easy. It took a lot of patience in the beginning.’

‘I am sure it did. Are you travelling far?’

‘To Nelson.’

‘Really. I am as well. I holiday there with my sister every year.’

‘That’s nice.’

‘Are you going on holiday?’

The conversation was taking a turn that Jessie was not entirely happy with. She knew that the elderly woman was only being polite. Yet she asked more questions than Jessie had answers for at this point. ‘Not exactly, we have been given the use of a cottage and we plan to stay for a while.’

The elderly woman could tell by Jessie’s tone, that she did not wish to impart any further information. Not being one to pry, she took out her knitting and settled back in her seat. Later she was to tell her sister, that she thought that the young woman on the bus had run away from something or somebody. Pleased that the woman was no longing asking questions Jessie closed her eyes and pretended to sleep. She closed her eyes but her mind was reeling with what had taken place over the last few hours. Her constant anxiety was that Paul may somehow find out where they had gone. Even if he did, she was not going back. For better or for worse, she had chosen her course in life. Her main priority now, was to take care of Allison. If necessary she would seek the services of a lawyer and get a divorce. Right now though, she just wanted their journey to come to an end. The novelty of viewing the new countryside had worn thin, and every mile seemed interminable. Even though her eyes were tight shut, she knew with a certainty that the woman across the aisle was watching them both. She felt grubby and hungry and very tired. They had eaten the last of the sandwiches that Fred had made for them. In a funny way it had made her feel sad as, if by eating the sandwiches they had cut the last thread with their earlier life. The thought uppermost in her mind was of entering the cottage, shutting the door and being alone away from prying eyes.

She must have dozed off as she woke with a start by the gentle shaking of the elderly woman. ‘What’s the matter?’ She asked anxiously.

‘Nothing is the matter.’ She kindly assured her. ‘We have finally arrived.’

‘Oh, thank you, I must have dosed off.’ Jessie wearily rubbed her eyes.

‘You have been sound asleep for the past hour. Would you like some help.’

‘No, thank you all the same. We will manage.’ Jessie shook Allison awake. ‘Come on sleepy head we have arrived,’ she signed.

Once she stood up, Jessie realised just how stiff she had become. Five minutes later they were standing on the side of the street, with their luggage at their feet. Jessie reached into her bag to find the address of the cottage. On the bus all she had wanted was for the journey to end and now that it had she realised, she now had another problem. How was she going to get to the cottage? For all she knew it could be miles away. Every bone in her body was crying out with weariness. Allison was also looking pale and tired. She looked anxiously at her mother wondering what they were going to do now.

‘Have you got far to go?’

Jessie looked up to see who had spoken. It was the woman from the bus. ‘I don’t honestly know? This is the address but I have no idea where to find it.’

‘Let me have a look,’ she said as she took hold of the paper. Jessie felt irritated by the officious manner of the woman. However she was so exhausted she said nothing.

‘Well,….well, that is on the road out-of-town by the sea-side. Now you two wait there. I will ask my sister to give you a ride, after all we are going that way.’ Jessie opened her mouth to say something but the woman quickly butted in. ‘I know it’s none of my business and you probably think I am a nosy old biddy, but I do think that you are both done in. One of the few perks of old age, is you can tell people what to do and not worry what they say.’

Jessie smiled gratefully at the woman, as she marched determinedly off to find her sister. A few minutes later they were sitting in the back of the car, being driven to their new home. The two elderly women in the front talked non stop for the entire journey. Jessie smiled to herself as she realised that they were both talking and no one was listening. The woman from the bus was describing her journey and her sister was talking about her husband’s bad knee. Neither seemed to notice, nor mind, that the other one was paying no attention.

‘What’s the number we are looking for?’

‘Number 130 I think, yes that’s right, 130.’

‘Would you believe it, it’s the house across the street from Mrs Bun.’

‘Well, so it is.’

Jessie wondered who was Mrs Bun. One glance though at the sign above the door of the small corner bakery told her. It said Mrs Bunnington’s Bakery. As if reading her thoughts’ one of the sister’s said, ‘Mrs Bun makes the best meat pies in the district. Her pastry is just melt in the mouth. You will never need to go hungry living across the street from her.’_

All thoughts of mouth-watering pies vanished as Jessie looked at the cottage on the opposite corner. There had been some mistake Jessie thought. There was no mistake. The number on the gate that hung on a drunken angle clearly said 130. In her mind Jessie had conjured up a picture of a delightful cottage, with lace curtains at the windows. She had even pictured a lovely cottage garden. However the reality was far from what she had imagined. The cottage was badly in need of repair. The spouting along one wall had come off at one end and now hung down the wall. One end of the roof on the veranda had also fallen down. Every blackbird and sparrow in the area, must have tried building their nests on the remaining eaves of the cottage. Nesting material hung precariously from the veranda. Instead of lace curtains at the windows there was a very thick coating of dirt. Trees and shrubs had all grown wild. Jessie suddenly became aware that everyone, including herself, had stopped speaking and all were staring in astonishment at the cottage. Jessie felt tears welling up and swallowed hard trying to stem their flow.

‘Good heaven’s girl, you can’t stay there. It’s nothing better than a hovel’

‘Well, we have nowhere else to go. I am sure inside it will be better. Come on Allison, help me get the cases out of the boot.’ She determined she was not going to let the two women see just how upset she was. They said nothing, as she and Allison unpacked their things. Then Jessie thanked them both for their help and taking up a case in each hand, they walked towards the cottage.

The path to the front door was completely overgrown, so they decided to try the back entrance. The back door stood slightly ajar. Jessie tried pushing it open, but it was well and truly stuck. Putting down the suitcases she put her shoulder to the door and using every ounce of strength she possessed, she pushed hard. The door grated back over years of accumulated dirt and rubbish. The dominate smell was one of neglect and decay. The cottage was basically a three room dwelling. One large room ran along the entire back of the house. A large black old-fashioned coal range dominated the room. A door in the middle of the room leads to a small passage opening out to the front door and the veranda. On each side of the passage stood identical small bedrooms. Each bedroom contained an old-fashioned iron bedstead. The only other pieces of furniture were a well-worn horse hair sofa and a small table and two chairs painted a nauseating shade of green. At the back of the cottage, just outside the back door was a small room containing an old tin bath and a very dirty chipped hand basin. All this Jessie and Allison took in without saying a word to each other. Their misery was so great, they could not communicate their disappointment. Finally Allison signed, ‘Where is the toilet?’

Jessie pointed out the dirty window. An overgrown path led to a long drop toilet at the bottom of the section. The look of total devastation, and hurt that registered on Allison’s face was too much for Jessie to cope with. She slumped down on the wooden chair and putting her head in her hands, she began to weep. At that instant if Paul had driven up and asked her to go back to the farm she would willingly have gone, even putting up with his abuse. She felt she had made the biggest mistake of her life bringing Allison to this dreadful cottage. Allison tried to offer solace to her mother by wrapping her arms around her shoulders. There was nothing to say.