And what about Number 20, the house where he grew up? Another family might be living there, with children. Or was it now the home of some happy young couple, just starting out, and as yet without kids.
The idea of seeing the house again made him feel deeply uncomfortable. And yet, like a homing pigeon, Jack had a deep, natural urge to head back there.
Not a half-mile away from Jack were two of the very people who had been in his thoughts.
‘I don’t want to go home yet!’ Eileen was adamant. ‘Why can’t we go to the cannons, like you promised?’
‘Because it might start to rain again, and besides, Libby will be wondering where we are.’ Also, Thomas was tired, and though he would accompany Eileen across the world and back if he had to, his arms were aching at the roots and his legs were beginning to buckle under him.
‘We’ve already been out longer than we said,’ he reminded her. ‘Matter o’ fact, I’d best give Libby a call right now, to let her know we’re on our way home.’
‘You can’t give her a call! How can you give her a call, when there’s no telephone box anywhere?’ She looked around, searching for the familiar red box. ‘See – nothing!’
‘Ah, well now, my beauty,’ Thomas explained for the umpteenth time, ‘we don’t need a telephone box now adays.’ Proudly he showed her his little black mobile phone. ‘Not now we’ve got these wonderful inventions.’
Eileen was wide-eyed. ‘What is it?’
‘You know what it is, m’dear. It’s the phone that Libby bought me, so’s we could keep in touch if we had need to.’
‘I want to see the cannons,’ Eileen persisted. ‘And why were there no ducks at the lake?’
‘Because we didn’t go to the lake today, my darling. Don’t you remember? You didn’t want to go to the lake today.’
‘We did, ’cause you nearly fell in. Your trousers got all wet.’
He smiled at the memory. ‘That’s right,’ he said with a chuckle. ‘You remember that, eh? But that wasn’t today, my dear. It were last week. The wind got up and blew your hat into the children’s pond at the far end of the lake. My trousers got wet when I retrieved your hat.’
Eileen thought for a minute and then she burst out laughing. ‘That duck pecked your leg, and you screamed like a girl.’
‘I did, and yer right – I nearly fell in, trying to frighten it off. Good job I managed to keep my balance.’
‘Thomas?’ Already Eileen’s thoughts were straying.
‘Yes, m’dear?’
‘Where did we go just now?’ She was frantically trying to remember.
‘You wanted to watch the children playing in the sand-pit,’ Thomas reminded her. ‘So that’s what we did. Then, when you got hungry, we went to the little café and had a cheese-and-tomato roll and a pot of tea.’
‘Oh, did we?’ she still wasn’t altogether sure. All of a sudden, she became very upset. ‘You promised to take me to the cannons!’
‘Yes, and I’m sorry, but it’s too late. Like I said, we’re headed back to the car now.’
Eileen had a suggestion. ‘Can you tell Libby what a lovely time we’ve had?’ Growing increasingly agitated, she pointed to Thomas’ pocket. ‘Call her on that little phone.’
Just to appease her, Thomas took the mobile phone out of his pocket and, after tapping out Libby’s number, he gave the phone to Eileen. ‘There! The number is ringing for you. When Libby answers, just talk into it, and she’ll be able to hear you.’
When Libby’s voice answered, Eileen was thrilled. ‘I can hear her!’ She got so excited, she accidentally pressed a wrong button and turned the phone off. Throwing the phone to the ground, she said tearfully, ‘It’s your fault she’s gone!’
Patiently, Thomas collected the phone and got Libby back on the line. But Eileen wouldn’t talk to her, so Thomas explained that they were on their way home and returned the mobile to his pocket – it was then that she got upset.
Surprised but not overly concerned by her sudden change of mood, Thomas quickly led her underneath the big, stone arch, away from prying eyes. Stooping to wrap his strong arms around her, he held her close while she continued to weep and rant; until finally she was quiet.
At that moment, Jack Redmond entered the park through the same big arch. From a distance he saw the man holding the distressed woman and was about to step up and ask if he could help, when the man noticed him approaching and put up a staying hand, as though asking him not to interfere.
Understanding their need for privacy, Jack turned away. But something about that old man and his companion troubled him. Yet he had never seen them before. And in all probability, he would never see them again.
The uncertainty that ran through Jack’s mind was also bothering Thomas. ‘I reckon I’ve seen that young man somewhere before,’ he murmured. ‘But can I recall where? No, damn and bugger it! What’s wrong with me?’
Now subdued Eileen heard him muttering. ‘What are you saying, Thomas? What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing, m’dear. I was just thinking out loud. Sorry.’
She glanced warily at the departing figure of Jack. ‘Is that him?’ she asked.
‘What d’you mean?’
‘Is he the one who wants to hurt me?’ She began to whimper.
‘No. He’s just a young man who happened to pass by when you were upset. Just a young chap out for a walk, like us . . . that’s all.’
Eileen’s panic was beginning to have an effect on Thomas, causing him to remember the past. Making him fearful. He glanced back, but the young man had already gone from sight.
He forced himself to be calm. In his mind he could see the young man’s face, partially shadowed by the hood of his anorak. For some reason, he felt as though he knew him. Yet, how could he? Fearful things played on his mind, coming back to haunt him, in the same way Eileen was haunted. A sense of disquiet took hold of him.
Who was that young man? What was his name? No doubt the answer would come to him eventually.
‘So, do you like it?’ asked Susan. She and Jack had just viewed the house in Buncer Lane.
‘It’s perfect,’ he answered. ‘I feel completely at home here.’ In fact, there was nothing about the house that he didn’t like. With big windows, a double frontage, an original cast-iron fireplace, and a stained-glass arc over the front door, he guessed it was probably Edwardian in date. All the rooms, upstairs and down, were square and straight, and of a manageable, homely size. At the front was a pleasant small garden, all set with shrubs and trees – one or two of which needed a trim, but that was incidental. The back garden was bigger, of course.
‘There’s a good feeling in this house,’ he told Susan. The minute he had walked through the door, he felt at ease there.
Buncer Lane was long and winding, sweeping down to the main road. Just a short distance away was Bower Street, where he was born and bred. Jack wondered if that was partly why he felt so comfortable here, being within walking distance of his old stamping-ground.
‘I’m so glad you like it,’ said Susan. ‘The owner had it tidied up and redecorated, and decided to let it out. But I think he has rather changed his mind, and now would like to sell it. But no one else has seen it yet, so I thought it was worth you having a look round.’
Jack was intrigued. ‘It seems as though this house was meant for me! I’ll give the owner a call – he might let me rent it from him while I decide whether I’m ready to buy it.
Sue told him she had already asked the owner if that was a possibility, ‘He’s quite agreeable on the idea, but only for a period of no more than twelve months. After that, if you’ve chosen not to buy, he will expect you to vacate.
Jack was relieved, ‘I’m happy with that arrangement. Thank you Sue.’ As it was, he did not envisage that it would take him twelve months to consider buying this delightful house. Jack had already decided that the front bedroom would be his. The decor was to his taste. Moreover, the room took the sun for most of the day, which made it seem bright and welcoming.
Crossing to the window, he took a moment to survey the scene below. With the house being on a curve in the road, he could see right down to the main thoroughfare, and from there in his mind’s eye, he could follow the route to Bower Street. And that made him think fondly of Libby. Being so near to everything he had known as a boy made the memories even stronger.
‘It’s the right house, in the right place, and it has a good feel about it,’ he said. ‘Thank you for finding it, Susan.’
Smiling, she gave a little shrug. ‘It’s what I’m paid to do . . . boss-man!’
Jack laughed. ‘Well, since I’m the boss-man, I’m saying you can go home early.’
When she drove off, he did one more tour of inspection round the house, then jumped into his Lexus and returned to the office to make some calls.
D
R
R
EED
was an expert in his field and with the old doctor having recently retired, Eileen was now his outpatient. Today was their first meeting.
After a lengthy examination of Eileen’s mental capabilities, Libby and Eileen were now seated before him; with Libby attentive as ever, while Eileen appeared agitated and constantly toyed with her fingers.
What he had to say, appeared to have little impact on Eileen, but it brought hope to Libby, ‘Fiirstly, let me assure you, that your mother appears to be in reasonable health for a woman of her age, and I am fairly confident that she does not suffer Dementia, or the onset of Alzheimers, as was first thought. Having said that, she does have certain symptons that might initially lead to that conclusion, such as the psychotic tendencies . . . the sudden unprovoked anger for instance. The identity lapses, and intermittent loss of reality.’
Pausing, he glanced at Eileen, who at that moment appeared to be paying attention, and was looking right at him, ‘Do you understand what I’m saying?’ he asked her now.
Eileen nodded.
‘Good. And if you’re not sure of what I’m saying, you must stop me, and I’ll go through it again.’
With Eileen’s reassurance, he continued.
For a time, Eileen appeared to listen, then she looked away, towards the open window, ‘I want to go now.’
Libby took hold of her hand, ‘In a minute, Mam,’ she promised, ‘Let the doctor finish.’ Even though it was understood how her mother still suffered the same problems, Libby was overjoyed at the prospect that there appeared to be some hope, ‘This is good news, isn’t it mam?’
Eileen raised her sorry eyes to the doctor, ‘I need to see Thomas now.’ There was such an emptiness inside her. Such fear, and a crippling sense of desolation. When she was with Thomas, she felt calmer, as though he understood, where others could not.
‘I’m not mad, am I?’ she asked the doctor now.
With a gentle smile on his face, Dr Reed slowly shook his head, ‘No, my dear. You are definitely not “mad”.’
Eileen was grateful for his answer. But then he did not know what she knew.
Thomas
did though. Oh, yes. He knew.
Later, when Eileen and Libby went round to see Thomas, he was thrilled with the news, ‘That’s wonderful!’ he gave them each a hug, ‘So, what exactly did he say?’ he asked Libby. Although, unbeknown to Libby, he had a very strong idea of what was haunting Eileen. And he was plagued with guilt.
Libby explained, ‘He was almost certain Mam was not suffering from Denentia, or Alzheimers; though he would have to undertake more tests. Instead he suspects it’s a much less invasive condition, called psychosis. It’s a kind of disturbance in the brain, where reality becomes distorted, and memories get fragmented, along with deep depression.
‘Can it be cured?’
‘Sometimes yes, and sometimes not altogether. It requires treatment and monitoring, but there is hope.’
With her next words, she dealt Thomas a hammer blow, ‘Apparantly, psychosis is triggered by some shocking, traumatic event. The thing is, when we did eventually manage to trace back to when Mam started to change, it ties in with the time when she lost Dad. So it could be that . . . but we can’t be sure just yet.’
Deeply shaken by Libby’s revelation, Thomas and Eileen instinctively exchanged glances. There was no need for words.
Each knew what the other was thinking as the years rolled away, to a time when they were younger; a time that was etched in their tortured minds, for all the wrong reasons.
As was her way, Eileen was soon chatting about everything else, and Libby was somewhat relieved that the ordeal at the hospital appeared to have already been forgotten by her mother.
A short time later, Libby coaxed her mother away, and Thomas was left.
To reflect on his guilt.
The following evening, Thomas tapped on Libby’s kitchen door. ‘Who wants to come next door and hear some
proper
music?’ he asked, with a sideways wink at Libby.
‘Me!’ Eileen clapped her hands, the events of the previous day having now retired to the back of her mind. Laughing merrily, she got to her feet and swirled her skirt about. ‘Look at me, Thomas!’ she cried. ‘I’m dancing!’
‘I can see that!’ he said, laughing. He took her in his arms and gently danced her round the room. Then he began to sing softly in her ear. It was her favourite artist, Nat King Cole, and her favourite song of all, ‘When I Fall in Love’.
When Libby began to sing along, Eileen suddenly broke away and ran into the kitchen. Libby ran after her.
‘Hey! What’s wrong, Mum?’ Cradling her close, she tried to make light of it. ‘I didn’t think my singing was bad enough to frighten you away like that.’
Eileen gave a shaky little laugh. ‘I’m sorry for running off.’
‘So, what’s upset you then?’
Eileen replied with such clarity that Libby was taken aback.
‘It’s your father,’ she said tearfully. ‘Why did he have to leave us like that?’ She shook her head as though in disbelief. ‘I know he liked other women, but I never thought he would leave us . . . not with you being such a tiny little thing an’ all.’
‘Ssh, Mum. That was such a long time ago. After all these years, he’s not about to come home, and it’s no use you upsetting yourself. Keep the good memories, Mum. Try not to fret about what’s gone, because it will only make you unhappy. And I don’t want you to be unhappy.’