7 Sorrow on Sunday (16 page)

“No, hang on a minute,” Lois said. “I’ll come with you, and then we’ll see if he recognizes me, and if I’m really the person he wants to see.”

They walked through the sitting room and spotless kitchen, and into the garden. A grassy pasture bordered the back fence, where Darren was leaning, looking at a group of horses grazing a few yards away.

“I thought he was frightened of horses now?” said Lois.

“Not those ones,” Mrs. Smith replied. “He knows those. They belong to the farmer—his house is over there.” She pointed to a big farmhouse a couple of fields away. “It was him that taught Darren to ride. He loved it. Very good, he was, too. They say some children like him have one thing they’re very good at, and with Darren it was riding horses. They were gentle with him . . . they seemed to know, like.”

As Lois watched, one of the horses looked up and came over to where Darren stood. The lad had not heard the women talking, or, if he had, he was ignoring them. But now he put out a hand and patted the mare on her head. She snickered, and Darren made a hissing noise close to her nose. Then he leaned over the fence and put his face next to
the mare’s cheek. They stood there for a few seconds, and Lois was embarrassed to find tears coming to her eyes. She sniffed. “Oh dear,” she said.

Mrs. Smith patted her hand. “It’s all right,” she said. “You see, he does have friends.”

Darren suddenly looked round. He saw Lois, and his face lit up. “Lady with the van!” he shouted, and came running awkwardly towards them.

“I was right, then,” Mrs. Smith muttered. “Come on, Darren,” she said in a louder voice, “come and meet Mrs. Meade. She brought you home, didn’t she? Let’s go in and give her a nice cup of tea.”

Darren tucked his hand under Lois’s arm, and beamed at her. “I go for a ride in your van?” he said.

“Maybe later,” Lois said. She hardly recognized this confident and smiling Darren as the terrified, dumbstruck boy she had chased across the fields and brought home.

He nodded. “We have a nice cup of tea,” he said. “Then I go for a ride in your van.”

They sat in the comfortable sitting room and drank their tea. Lois noticed that Darren gulped his quickly, as if anxious to get going.

“You’ve got nice horses in your field,” Lois said, trying to keep it simple. Darren nodded again. “Very nice horses,” he said. “I ride one. She’s called Maisie, and she loves me and I love her. And I love my Mum.”

“And your Dad too, I expect?”

“Not Dad,” Darren said firmly. “Dad gone away.”

Lois looked at Mrs. Smith and said, “Oh, sorry.” But Mrs. Smith smiled, and said it didn’t matter. He’d been gone a long time.

“Couldn’t get used to his son not being normal, as he put it.”

“I saw you once before,” Lois said to Darren, changing the subject. “You were working in Colonel Battersby’s garden. Do you remember?”

The change in him was marked, and Lois wished she hadn’t mentioned it.

“Don’t love the big man,” he said. “Love the horses out
the back, and my Mum. Shall I love you too, lady with the van?”

“Yes, please,” Lois replied, dangerously wobbly again. “And you love the big man’s horses, too?”

Darren stood up suddenly, knocking back his chair. “Not the big man’s horses!” he said, and seemed near to tears. “Darren not going back to the big man’s garden?” he asked, turning to his mother.

She shook her head and kissed him. “Ssh, Darren. No, you’re not going back there until you want to. You stay with Mum.”

He gradually relaxed, and sat down again. Lois finished her tea, and turned to Mrs. Smith. “Would it be all right to take Darren for a quick spin in the van? I’ll bring him back in half an hour or so . . .”

Mrs. Smith frowned. “I don’t know,” she said slowly. “He gets frightened easily, and then he might try to get out.”

Darren had wandered back into the garden, and his mother explained he found it difficult to sit still for long. Lois was glad, not being sure how much he understood of their conversation.

“I can lock the doors,” she said. “We won’t go far, and certainly nowhere near Colonel Battersby’s house! What on earth happened to Darren there? I thought he mostly worked for Mrs. Battersby, and she’s a very nice person.”

“She is. Mrs. Battersby always took him out, and told me he could have a future in the horsey world when he’d matured a bit more. I doubted it myself, but was pleased that it was going so well. Sometimes Darren would spend the whole day at the stables, and then stay the night, so’s I could have a break. Once the Colonel and his wife took him to the local point-to-point. He was very excited when he came home, going on about the horses for hours. They’d taken him to another one, and that was when he ran away.”

“So what happened?”

“Don’t know. I couldn’t make it out. I was frantic, but you found him, thank God. He wouldn’t tell me where he’d been, or why he’d gone, and he wouldn’t go back to the
Battersbys’ after that. I still haven’t found out what happened, and the police seem to have forgotten about it. Written him off, I dare say. Most people do.”

“Well, I don’t,” said Lois. “I’ll give him a shout, and we’ll be off. I promise to take care of him.”

Darren came in again straight away, and Lois took his hand. “Come on, Darren, let’s go for that ride in the van,” she said in a comfortable voice. He took her outstretched hand.

“Mrs. Meade,” he said, and managed a tentative smile.

“Take care of Mrs. Meade,” said Mrs. Smith. “Be a good boy. See you soon.” She waved them off with an anxious face, and watched until they disappeared out of sight.

*   *   *

“W
HERE SHALL WE GO,
D
ARREN?”
L
OIS ASKED, ONCE
they were safely locked inside the van. He didn’t answer, but smiled at her. “Would you like to see my little dog?” she said, with a sudden flash of inspiration. They would have time on the way to Farnden to talk, and then Gran and Jeems might help him to relax and talk some more. She knew that Darren held the key to whatever had happened at the Battersbys to make him run away. The only other people were the Colonel and his lady, but they were not saying. It was possible that not even Blanche knew, but she probably suspected.

On the way out of Waltonby village, they passed by the Battersbys’ house, and Darren went rigid. “Not going there,” he said in alarm.

Lois shook her head, “Of course not, Darren. We’re going to see my little dog, and my mother. You’ll like them. The dog’s name is Jeems, and she loves games. She loves to chase after a ball. We can throw a ball for her.”

Darren relaxed, and nodded. “I love dogs,” he said. “And I love my Mum . . . and Mrs. Meade,” he added, and smiled.

Lois felt absurdly glad that Darren loved her.

D
EREK HAD FINISHED THE JOB HE WAS DOING OVER AT
Fletching, and decided he was near enough to home to go back for one of Gran’s fry-ups. He had some jobs to do in the house and garden, and would take the afternoon off to do them. He hardly ever did this, and Lois had to bully him to take a holiday. Although he preferred working for himself, he did occasionally reflect that it must be nice to do a nine-to-five job, with weekends free and paid holidays. Still, the fact that all the money he earned came direct to him was worth a lot.

As he turned into his driveway, he saw Lois on the lawn with a skinny lad, who was laughing and jumping up and down with obvious delight. They were throwing a ball for Jeems, who was catching it mid-air. When the little dog saw Derek, she lost interest in the ball and ran towards him. Just before she reached him, she saw the open gates and changed direction. Like lightning, she streaked down the drive and out into the road. Derek could hear the sound of a heavy vehicle approaching, and shouted at the top of his voice in a furious tone, which was the only one Jeems obeyed. “Come here! Get back here, you bad dog!”

Lois joined him quickly, and neither noticed that at the sound of Derek shouting, Darren froze, then ran down the path to the bottom of the garden and out of sight.

Jeems turned back in time, and was told off in no uncertain terms by Lois. “Still,” she pleaded with a still angry Derek, “she’s only young. And she was so excited to see you.”

“Hmm!” said Derek. “Anyway, who’s that you’ve got
with . . .” Both looked at once to the empty lawn, and Lois began to run.

“It’s Darren,” she shouted back to Derek. “Come and help, and get Gran.”

This time thankfully he had not gone far. He was cowering behind the garden shed, and refused to come out. “You and Gran go back into the house,” said Lois. “He’ll come to me in a minute.”

“I expect I frightened him,” Derek said glumly. “But . . .”

“Not your fault,” Lois said quickly. “Jeems would be flattened by now if you hadn’t shouted. We’ll be with you in two shakes of a lamb’s tail. Now, Darren,” she continued gently, when the other two were out of sight, “shall we go in and have a nice cup of tea?”

Darren shook his head violently. “Big man in there,” he said. “Not nice to Darren. Want to go home to Mum.”

“Yes,” Lois said, realizing that the big man was Derek, and it was indeed the shouting that had frightened the lad. “We will go back to Mum soon. But Gran has made a cake for you, and will be sad if we don’t go in and eat it.” This was a safe enough lie. Gran always had a cake in the tin.

“Is the big man there?” said Darren.

“Maybe,” Lois replied quietly. “But this man’s name is Derek, and he is never unkind. He just has a loud voice. He saved Jeems from being killed by the big lorry. So that was kind of him, wasn’t it?”

Darren looked doubtful. “Big man . . . Derek . . . got horses?” he said.

“No, no horses,” Lois said. “He is my husband, and very nice. You will like him.”

“Not love him,” said Darren.

Lois laughed. “Maybe not,” she said. “But you will like him. I promise you. And you love me, don’t you, so I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

Darren got slowly to his feet, and came forward. “Hold my hand,” he said, and Lois led him gently down the garden path, back towards the house. It all depends on Derek now, she thought as they went into the kitchen. The table was laid with a chocolate cake in pride of place in the centre.
Gran stood with her back to the Rayburn, smiling, and Derek had disappeared. When he came back into the kitchen, Darren began to back away.

“Have you seen this, Darren?” Derek said, and held out his hand. He was holding a small glazed pottery model of a dog—a white Westie, just like Jeems. “For you, Darren,” he said, “to keep in your room at home.”

Lois held her breath. Darren stood still, then took a tentative step towards Derek. “Jeems,” he said, and Derek carefully placed the figure into Darren’s outstretched hand. Darren held it to his cheek, just as he had with Maisie, the horse in the field. “I love Jeems,” he said, and looked at the table. “And chocolate cake,” he added, and sat down.

*   *   *

A
S SHE DROVE
D
ARREN BACK TO
W
ALTONBY,
L
OIS
reflected that he had said nothing useful about the Battersbys, but this didn’t matter. His reaction to Derek’s shouting, and the fact that a “big man” had terrified him, and then the question about Derek having horses, all told her a great deal. He had without doubt been frightened out of his wits by Colonel Battersby, and perhaps by the big hunters that lived in the Colonel’s stables.

Mrs. Smith was waiting at the gate. “Ah, there you are,” she said, with obvious relief. She looked at Darren’s beaming face and the knot of anxiety in her stomach gradually gave way to a tearful welcome. “So he enjoyed himself, Mrs. Meade,” she said, taking his hand.

“Look, Mum, look what kind Derek gave me,” he said. “I love Jeems. She’s for my room. Upstairs, in my room. I put her on my shelf.” He turned to go up the path, and then looked back. “Thank you, Mrs. Meade,” he said, like a well-drilled child. “I come again in your van? See Jeems, and Gran . . . and Derek?”

“Yes, soon,” said Lois, and waved her hand.

“A success, then?” Mrs. Meade said. “I can’t thank you enough. He’ll be happy for days now. Don’t worry about taking him again. He’ll not remember for very long.”

“I shall come again,” Lois said firmly. “For one thing,
this afternoon gave me several things to think about. Maybe when he really trusts me, we’ll get to the bottom of what happened to him to make him run away. Bye now, Mrs. Smith. Take care.”

Mrs. Smith watched Lois drive away, and turned to go into the house. For some reason, she felt optimistic for the first time since Darren’s disappearance.

*   *   *

D
EREK WAS WAITING FOR
L
OIS, AND GAVE HER A HUG
as she got out of the car. “I messed that up, didn’t I, me duck?” he said. “Sorry. Was he all right when he got home?”

Lois kissed his cheek, and said, “Fine. He was fine. But I’ve got a bone to pick with you. Who said you could give away my little pottery Westie? You gave me that at Christmas, and it was special.”

“Emergency,” he said. “I’ll get you another.”

She kissed him again. “Only teasing,” she said. “Couldn’t have done better meself.”