Midnight (29 page)

Thomas gave a knowing smile. ‘Ah well, she put up with it because she loved him and she didn’t want to lose him. But in the end, she did lose him, and she’s never really got over it.’

‘Do you think she expected him to come back?’

‘Oh, I’m sure she did. But when someone goes like that, there’s not an awful lot can be done about it.’

Libby’s anger bubbled over. ‘Why would he do such a terrible thing, when he had a woman at home who idolised him?’

Thomas had no answers. ‘Aw, now, lass, yer can’t ask me that kind of a question. What can I tell yer? I just don’t know.’

‘Sorry. It was wrong of me to draw you in like that.’ She sipped her cocoa, and changed the subject. ‘Just now, when I went up to her, Mum was talking clear as a bell.’

‘I know, and it’s wonderful when she’s like that, like her old self. But as the doctor told you, there will be days when she behaves normal enough, and other times she’ll be lost . . . her mind wandering here and there.’

‘We’ll keep her safe though, won’t we, Thomas?’

‘Yer absolutely right there, lass.’ Reaching out, he put his hand over hers. ‘You have me, and I’m here to keep you
both
safe. Never you forget that.’ He considered it to be his duty.

Unbeknownst to the pair chatting down below, Eileen had got out of bed and had made her way to the top of the stairs, where the stair-gate was fastened. She was still there now, listening to them, to Thomas’ loud voice and her daughter’s softer tones, growing more anxious with their every word.

Deeply disturbed, she carefully climbed over the gate, tiptoed down the stairs, and listened outside the door.

Libby finished her ginger biscuit and looked Thomas in the eye. ‘Something very strange and also very wonderful happened this evening,’ she said. ‘I think I’ve solved the mystery of the man who seemed to be watching us, and I’m hopeful there’s nothing to worry about.’

Trying not to show too much excitement, she related the whole story of what she had seen and heard in the supermarket car park. ‘If it really is Jack, he looked so prosperous and successful,’ she said. ‘He’s obviously done well for himself. I wonder how long he’s been working at Cutis Warren Motors.’

She would never understand why Jack had cut off all contact with them. Perhaps she would get a chance, now, to ask him. It had felt so hurtful over the years.

Having put his glasses on, Thomas produced a copy of the local newspaper. ‘Curtis Warren Motors, eh . . . ? That’s the new garage in Lytham. It’s meant to be a big, posh place. They’ve got adverts everywhere – they even mentioned it on the radio. If I remember rightly, there’s a big event there tomorrow.

‘Are you really sure it’s our Jack?’ Thomas asked kindly. ‘That poor lad went from these parts years ago. After what happened to his parents, I shouldn’t think he’d ever want to show his face round ’ere again. Poor Gordon, copping it in the fire, then that stuck-up piece Claire Redmond pushing off with a Yank an’ leaving her lad all on his own . . .’

But Libby wasn’t listening. ‘I’m
sure
it’s him.’ Her voice broke with emotion. ‘Right from the first, I knew there was something familiar about him, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Jack Redmond . . . Oh, Thomas, I know in my heart that it’s him! He’s back. Jack’s come home!’

Eileen recognised the name straight away. It was strange, how some names had stayed with her over the years. And now, hearing that he was back, she began to panic, because Jack knew.
He knew about the bad thing
. And now they would all know. That must not happen! That must never happen.

Her heart was racing; her mind was running ahead of her thoughts. She could hardly breathe.
He knew! Jack knew! He had always known, and now he would tell.
Confused and panic-stricken, she didn’t know what to do.

She could hear Libby laughing, and Thomas, almost ready to believe that Jack had really come back, saying how wonderful it would be to see him again. Eileen wanted to shout, to tell Thomas that it was
not
wonderful. It was the worst thing that could happen. The most frightening thing of all. And now,
it
would never go away. Not ever!

Thomas gave an involuntary shiver. ‘Brr! It’s draughty in ’ere all of a sudden, don’t yer think?’

Far too excited to feel the cold, Libby was thinking about Jack. ‘I’m sure I won’t sleep a wink tonight!’ She was so incredibly happy. Yet she tried not to get her hopes up too high. Just in case.

Thomas was wondering where the sudden chill was coming from. ‘Is there a door open somewhere?’ he asked.

The thought struck them at the same time. With Thomas on her heels, Libby ran into the kitchen. The back door was open, and they dashed outside. It was dark, and for a moment they couldn’t see anything.

‘Mum!’
Libby called out.
‘Where are you?’

‘Have yer a torch anywhere, lass?’ Thomas asked. Then suddenly he said, ‘There! Did yer hear that?’

Libby listened. What she heard was an odd, rhythmic sound, like sand shifting up and down a beach.

‘There’s a torch under the stairs.’ She switched on the kitchen light and went to get it.

‘Is there any way she can get out of the yard?’

‘No, not since I had the back gate fitted with locks.’ While Libby ran inside to get the torch, she could hear Thomas continuously calling out.

‘Eileen, m’dear . . . it’s me, Thomas. I can’t see where you are. Call my name, lass, so I can come and get you.’ Guided by the light coming through the kitchen window, he took another few steps forward, but beyond the narrow shaft of illumination, there was only impenetrable blackness.

A moment later, Libby came rushing back. ‘I was worried the battery might have gone,’ she said, handing him the torch, ‘but it’s working.
Mum! It’s all right. We’re not angry. Please . . . Just come inside, in the warm.
’

They found Eileen at the farthest corner of the garden, between the fence and the silver birch tree. Down on her knees, she was madly scrabbling at the damp ground with her bare hands and scooping earth into a pile.

When he realised what she was doing, Thomas was shocked. ‘Oh, dear Lord!’ He knew what was in her mind.
He had to stop her.

‘Eileen, love, please don’t do this.’ When he tenderly laid his hands on her shoulders, she flinched from him.

‘
No!
Leave me be. I have to do it. You know that!’

She spoke again, this time in the softest whisper, and he knew it was for his ears alone. ‘Please, it’s time to tell the truth.’ Her voice and her thinking were so clear, it shook him deeply.

Not having heard what her mother was whispering, Libby stepped forward. Speaking to her in that quiet, firm voice that usually got through to Eileen, she said, ‘We’re going back inside now. Come on, Mum. We’ll help you.’

Eileen’s bottom lip trembled. ‘I need to stay here,’ she confided in a whisper. ‘Thomas knows.’ She smiled up at Thomas, who was torn with guilt. ‘It wasn’t my fault, was it, Thomas?’

‘No, my darling . . .’ Desperately concerned he played along. ‘It wasn’t your fault. We all know that. But you should not have come out here. You must come with us now. You’re getting cold, and Libby and I are so worried about you.’

‘Come inside, Mum.’ Cradling her tight, with Thomas guiding them in the light from the torch, Libby gently walked her mother back down the path. Libby was deeply distressed at the sight of her – clad only in her nightdress, now covered with dirt-stains. What had possessed her to sneak outside and dig a hole like that? And with such frenzy it was almost as though some unseen force was driving her to do it. Where would it all end? she wondered.

Once he had got them safely to the house, Thomas returned to where Eileen had been digging. What was she thinking? Even as he asked himself the question, he knew how her poor, sick mind was working. He knew the torment she was going through. And he could hardly bear it.

He kicked the soil back until the hole was full again. ‘I’ll come round and do that properly,’ he murmured, ‘sooner rather than later.’

Picking his way carefully back down the garden, he let the kitchen light guide him. What to do? How many times, when he had seen how the past was affecting Eileen’s well-being, had he asked himself that same question,
What to do?

There was only one solution, but he dared not take it. There were too many reasons why he couldn’t go down that road. But how long could things go on as they were? Especially when, just lately, Eileen was beginning to relive the past. After tonight, he realised now that, instead of maintaining her peace of mind, his very silence was slowly destroying her.

Stopping in his tracks, he looked up at the night sky and, fixing his sorry gaze on the brightest star, he prayed, ‘Help her, Lord. Please help her. I don’t care what happens to me, but I’m asking you . . . please, for pity’s sake, guide me to do the right thing for her. She’s a good, kind woman, Lord.’

Inside the kitchen, Libby had washed and dried her mother, rubbed cream on her sore hands, and now she was putting a clean nightgown on her.

‘Where’s the boy?’ Eileen demanded.

Libby was confused. ‘What boy? There is no boy.’

Eileen got angry. ‘Where is he? Where did you hide him?’

Just then, Thomas came into the kitchen. ‘You mean Jack, don’t you?’ he said. ‘Jack Redmond.’ Only now did he realise that Eileen must have been listening to their conversation earlier.

Eileen began to cry. ‘He knows,’ she wept. ‘He knows the secret place.’

Libby was out of her depth. ‘What d’you mean, Mum?’

Afraid that too much had been said already, Thomas wisely suggested, ‘I think we should just concentrate on getting you back to bed, Eileen.’ Reaching out, he took hold of her sore hands and tenderly kissed them.

‘Thomas?’ Eileen responded sleepily.

‘Yes, m’dear?’

‘I love you.’ Her voice trembled.

‘Thank you,’ he said humbly.

‘Do you love me?’

‘You don’t need to ask that,’ he told her. ‘You know I do.’

Having got her upstairs, while Libby cleared up below, Thomas waited until Eileen had climbed into her bed. Then he drew the covers over her and kissed her good night. ‘This time, stay in yer bed,’ he ordered her kindly. ‘I’m too old and knackered to be chasing after women these days.’

Eileen grabbed him by the collar and drew him down. ‘
Tell him!
’ she hissed. She held him there, so close he could feel her breath on his face. ‘Tell him to stay away, because they’re watching. I don’t want them to hurt him, Thomas. Please, don’t let them hurt him.’

Thomas realised he could not leave it. He had to put her mind at rest. ‘Who wants to hurt him?’ he asked.

‘Them!’ You know who,

‘Why would they want to hurt him?’

She looked nervously about, before answering, ‘He saw it. The boy – Jack – he found them!’

‘That can’t be, m’dear. Jack was just a baby,’ Thomas said. ‘You’re imagining things, Eileen. You must not think like that.’

‘Listen to me.’ She grew angry. ‘The baby – the boy.
He saw them
.’ She took a deep, invigorating breath, ‘He was there. I took him away . . . I didn’t want him to see, but it was too late! I ran, Thomas. I ran and I got the little lad, but it was too late.’ She began to sob, clinging to him, looking for comfort. Looking for him to make everything all right. ‘Thomas . . . I’m so very sad,’ she sobbed bitterly.

For a long moment, the old man could not bring himself to speak. He loved Eileen so much, and it hurt him to see her tortured like this. Tenderly stroking her hand, he whispered in her ear, ‘You need to get some sleep now.’

‘Sing to me, Thomas. Please?’ She loved to hear him sing. It made her quiet inside. It made her feel secure. And it helped her forget the bad things.

Very softly, he began to sing Frank Sinatra’s ‘My Way’, one of her favourite songs. As he sang, the tears flowed down his face. The song said it all, word for word.

When he looked down on her, she was fast asleep. ‘That’s it, my love.’ He leaned down to kiss her on the forehead. ‘You sleep now. Tomorrow will be a better day, God willing.’

Downstairs, Libby heard him singing, and she smiled a bittersweet smile. Two lovely people, in their golden years, so much in love, yet so far apart. What future could there be for them?

She shook her head. ‘Hmph! Some might say the same could be said of me.’

In the back of her mind, she was thinking of Jack. She could hardly believe that the man who had helped the woman in the car park could actually be the boy she walked to school with, all those years ago. Oh, but wouldn’t it be wonderful to see him again?

She and Jack had been almost inseparable. A real little tomboy, in her torn shorts and with her curly cap of red hair, Libby had built dens with him, swapped stamps with him, gone on bike rides with him, had all sorts of adventures and scrapes with him . . . and often she felt she knew Jack Redmond inside out. In fact, Libby felt sure that she still had some of their school-books and treasures put away in a box somewhere . . .

While they’d been doing their GCSEs and then their ‘A’ Levels, Jack had grown moody and apart, and his studies began to suffer. Libby realised then that things going on at home – his father’s injury and death, his mother’s gradual abandonment of him, and the nightmares that plagued him – had all taken away his enthusiasm for learning.

The feelings she had for Jack made her shy, self-conscious and distant, and so she never told him how she really felt. She regretted that now.

But it seemed that fate might have given them a second chance. Libby promised herself that
this time
, if Jack really was the man she’d seen, and if he was a free man, she would never lose him again.

Chapter Twenty

E
VERYTHING WAS READY
. There was a real atmosphere of excitement, with each member of staff eager to do their part to make the event a great success.