Flickering shadows appeared on the wall and drew his attention to the window. It had started to snow outside and large flakes were drifting silently past. For the first time he realised that his hands were bandaged. The thought of frostbite alarmed him into trying to move all of his fingers and toes in turn. They all worked. His feet were free of pain but there was quite a bit of discomfort from his hands. That would be from bruising caused by the ice.
The woman must have dressed his hands, MacLean thought as he examined the white gauze bindings, conceding that she’d done a good job. He tried to attract attention by coughing. The door opened and the woman came in.
‘Hello, how are you?’ The voice was warm and friendly, a controlled, gentle voice now free of the earlier fear.
‘I’m fine,’ replied MacLean. ‘I must apologise for… ‘
MacLean was interrupted by the most beautiful laugh he had ever heard. ‘You must nothing of the sort,’ she said and then more gently she added, ‘I owe you my daughter’s life.’
MacLean did not know what to say. He looked away.
The woman looked behind her and said, ‘You can come in now.’
The little girl entered the room, staring resolutely at her feet and with her left thumb hovering near her mouth. She raised her eyes briefly to meet MacLean’s but then dropped them again.
‘Well, say it,’ whispered her mother.
The child smiled shyly then said, ‘I was a very silly girl. I’m very sorry and thank you very much for getting me out the water.’ She turned to her mother and clung to her skirt.
MacLean said, ‘I’m very glad you’re all right Carol.’
‘Carrie!’ corrected the girl. ‘It’s Carrie!’
‘Carol when I’m angry,’ smiled her mother, ‘I’m Tansy Nielsen by the way.’
‘MacLean. Sean MacLean.’
‘Pleased to meet you Mr MacLean,’ said Tansy. It sounded ridiculous and they both knew it and laughed.
‘How about a nice hot bath?’ asked Tansy. ‘Your clothes should be just about dry by the time you’ve finished.’
‘Sounds good,’ said MacLean.
Tansy went off to run the bath. When she returned she removed the temporary dressing from his hands and screwed up her face. She said, ‘They must be awfully sore.’
MacLean looked at his raw, damaged knuckles. The bruising had not had time to develop fully but a purple tinge was already in evidence. ‘There’s nothing broken,’ he said. ‘They’ll be right as rain in a few days.’
‘Mr MacLean… ‘ Tansy began. She wanted to express her thanks for what he had done but words failed her and she ended up by simply saying, ‘Your bath’s ready.’
The bathroom was ringed with Carrie’s toys. One of them, a bright yellow plastic duck, fell into the water and bobbed about in the suds. MacLean left it where it was and looked up at the window to see that it was still snowing. The grey light suggested that there was still a lot to come. Tansy had the radio on next door or maybe it was a record playing. He could hear the sounds of Fur Elise and he lay back and closed his eyes. When the music ended he would start thinking about returning to the outside world but for the moment his mind was about as active as his yellow plastic companion.
The doorbell rang and startled MacLean out of his reverie. He cursed himself for having relaxed so completely. Who was at the door? Had the woman called the police? God! It must be the police! He sat bolt upright, his pulse racing as he looked about him. He remembered the gun! It must have been the gun that did it! The woman must have found it in his coat pocket when she undressed him! She had called the police!
MacLean looked to the window as a possible means of escape then felt foolish as he remembered he had no clothes. They were being dried. He was trapped. Any moment now the bathroom door would leave its hinges as uniformed bodies crashed through to arrest him. He could do nothing. He lay paralysed as he heard the front door open. A deep male voice was saying something but he could not make out the words. The door closed again and he heard Tansy call out, ‘Carrie! Dr Miller’s here to see you.’
Was it a ruse? he wondered. This was the way he’d learned to think over the past two years. He could not accept that it was really the family doctor calling until he had heard Carrie speak. There hadn’t been time to prime the child for a role in any play. The water had grown cold but MacLean lay back again and let out his breath slowly. He had been wrong but all the same, Tansy Nielsen knew about the gun.
MacLean heard the doctor leave and shortly afterwards Tansy’s voice outside the door said, ‘I’m leaving your clothes outside the door Mr MacLean. All right?’
‘Thank you,’ replied MacLean as matter of factly as he could. He got out of the bath and dried himself quickly before opening the door slightly and snatching his clothes in to search anxiously through the pockets. As he feared, the gun wasn’t there. He supposed there was an outside chance that it could have fallen into the canal when he was under the ice but it was much more likely that Tansy had found and removed it.
Tansy smiled as MacLean entered the room. ‘Feel better?’ she asked.
‘Much.’
‘Our doctor was here to see Carrie. You probably heard him?’
‘Yes,’ agreed MacLean.
‘I considered asking him to have a look at you while he was here but then I changed my mind.’
MacLean read in Tansy’s eyes that she had indeed found the gun. ‘No, I’m fine,’ he said.
‘Will you join us for supper, Mr MacLean?’ asked Tansy.
MacLean shook his head and said, ‘I think I’d better be going.’
‘Where?’
The directness of the question took MacLean aback. ‘Nowhere,’ he confessed.
Carrie defused the embarrassment. She said, ‘Please stay. You can mend my train.’
MacLean looked at her and smiled. ‘I could certainly take a look at it.’ Looking at Tansy he added, ‘Thank you, I’d be happy to stay for supper.’
Tansy went off to the kitchen and Carrie disappeared to fetch her broken train. MacLean felt uneasy; the situation was unreal. The bungalow was warm and cosy and he was surrounded by signs of domesticity and a kind of life he had almost entirely forgotten. He was annoyed at fate for reminding him at a time like this. He looked to the window and the fading light. Outside was where he belonged, in the cold grey reality of a world which was dependably hostile, not here in Tansy and Carrie’s world in a house that was clearly a home. It had a life of its own. It almost seemed to breathe.
MacLean had almost decided to get up to leave quietly when Carrie returned carrying her train.
‘The wheel,’ she said by way of explanation. She held a wooden locomotive in one hand and one of its wheels in the other.
‘I think I see the problem,’ said MacLean. He took the train from her and sat down again. The pin securing the wheel to the hub had been lost. He looked about him and saw a little dish by the hearth, which contained odds and ends. Among the predominant drawing pins he saw a few paper clips and selected one to thread it through the hole in the axle. He broke off the excess by bending the wire backwards and forwards until metal fatigue did it for him. The wheel was now safely retained.
‘There,’ he said to Carrie. ‘Good as new.’
Carrie tried out the train on the rug and seemed well pleased with the result. She grinned and said, ‘Thank-you so much.’
‘You’re very welcome,’ said MacLean.
Carrie stopped playing with the train and said, ‘I like you… you didn’t say girls don’t play with trains.’
Now that Carrie had overcome her shyness, she chirped and chattered her way through the meal. MacLean was grateful because it relieved him of having to make any social contribution other than the occasional exchange of smiles with her mother. He constantly reminded himself that he was an interloper. He had made his decision; he must not let himself be distracted. The sirens of warmth and happiness were there but he would tie himself to the mast. This was all a momentary aberration. It would soon be over.