A slow frown crossed the old lady’s face. “I can remember two young men coming to the door. Boys. They were very polite. One of them felt ill … He wanted a drink of water, so I let them in. I started to ask if they wanted tea, but … I think one of them must have pushed me …”
Kate couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Miss Willoughby moved her head slightly from side to side in a tired shake. “I can’t understand it … I used to teach, but it wasn’t like this … I’d got nothing for them to steal. Why do this for a few pounds?”
“I didn’t know you were a teacher,” Kate said quickly, seeing her growing upset. The old woman’s frown faded as older memories replaced the more recent one.
“I taught for nearly forty years. At the same school. Girls.”
Her eye slipped shut, and Kate thought she’d fallen asleep. But a moment later she spoke again. “You wonder where it goes to, the time.”
She did doze for a while then. Another burst of laughter came from the group opposite. Kate looked over at the sprawl of generations, from the elderly woman in the bed to a toddler a girl was helping to balance on the foot of it. A middle-aged woman saw Kate looking over and smiled. Kate smiled back and looked away. She quietly pushed back her chair and stood up, but Miss Willoughby’s eye twitched open again.
“I’d better get off,” Kate said, feeling as if she had been caught out. But the old lady only nodded. “Thank you for coming.” Her voice was more drowsy than ever. “Lovely to see you.”
Kate felt a prick of conscience. “I’ll come again. Is there anything you’d like bringing? Or anyone you want me to phone? To tell them where you are?”
“No. No one, thank you.” A worried expression crossed her face. “My plants, though … They’re due for watering …”
“Don’t worry. I’ll look after them.”
The old lady looked relieved. “I think the key’s in there …” Her unbandaged hand jerked towards the cabinet. Kate opened it and found a key ring on top of Miss Willoughby’s clothes.
“I’ll come again soon,” she said, but the old lady gave no sign of having heard.
Kate made her way out. At the entrance to the ward she looked back. The visitors surrounding the other bed were also getting ready to leave, slipping on coats in a torrent of goodnights. The elderly woman kissed them all in turn. A few feet away, Miss Willoughby lay alone. The solitary vase of carnations on the bare cabinet looked as stark as an exclamation mark.
Kate went down the corridor to the lifts.
CHAPTER 6
As soon as she saw Lucy Kate could tell that something was wrong. They had arranged to meet at lunchtime in the park, where they could have a sandwich from the snack bar while Angus played. But as she approached the bench where Lucy sat, she could see that her face was flushed behind her sunglasses, her blonde hair even more unkempt than usual. Emily was at nursery school, and Angus sat alone on the grass in front of his mother, bleary-eyed and snuffling in the aftermath of recent tears as he half-heartedly played with a toy fire engine.
The child looked at Kate through wet lashes, unsmilingly, as she greeted him and sat beside Lucy on the bench. She had been almost bursting with her own news, but now she pushed it forcibly into the background.
“What’s been going on?” she asked.
Lucy gave a terse shake of her head. Through the dark screen of the sunglasses, her eyes were all but obscured. “Don’t ask. He’s feeling sorry for himself because he’s had a slap.”
Angus regarded his mother tearfully. Kate looked with surprise from the red handprint on his chubby leg to Lucy. Lucy’s reprimands were usually no more than stern words, and even they were rare.
“What did he do?” she asked. “Murder somebody?”
It was meant to lighten the situation, but Lucy’s mouth tightened as she glared at her son. “Practically. We were by the pond and this little girl came up to him, just wanting to play, so he hit her on the head with his fire engine.”
Kate’s mouth twitched, but it was obvious that Lucy wasn’t in a laughing mood.
“He didn’t hurt her, did he?”
“Of course he hurt her!” Lucy leaned towards him, raising her voice. “You made her head bleed, didn’t you? You bad boy!”
Angus began to cry again, covering his eyes with pudgy hands.
“Oh, Lucy …” Kate said.
“Don’t feel sorry for him! Bullies don’t deserve it!” The last was addressed to her son again. Still sobbing, he clambered to his feet and tottered towards them, arms outstretched.
“No, I don’t want you,” Lucy said, as he approached her. “I don’t have anything to do with bullies.”
With a heartbroken wail, the little boy turned and buried his head on Kate’s legs. She could feel him quivering with the force of his sobs, and knowing Lucy wouldn’t like it but unable to help herself, she reached down and picked him up. His small body was heavy and solid, radiating heat. He settled against her, burying his face against her neck. It felt hot and wet.
“Come on, Lucy,” she said, over his head. “Don’t you think you’re going a bit over the top?”
Lucy didn’t say anything for a moment, then some of the tension seemed to ebb from her. “Okay. Give him here.”
Sensing his mother’s change in mood, Angus turned to her, holding out his arms. Lucy heaved him from Kate and set him on her knee. Kate felt a momentary sense of loss as the child was taken from her. She watched the little boy snuggle against his mother.
“Are you sorry now?” Lucy asked, but the bite had left her voice. “You’re not going to be a bully again, are you?”
Angus shook his head, hiccuping as his sobs began to subside. Lucy smoothed his damp hair off his forehead and gave Kate a rueful smile. “You’ve got snot on your shoulder.”
Kate wiped it off with a tissue. She could still feel the weight of the child’s body against her, like ghost pains after an amputation. “So what’s really the matter?” she asked.
Light sparked off Lucy’s sunglasses, hiding her eyes. “One of Jack’s clients has just gone bust. Owing us ten thousand.” She broke off, looking out over the park. “We can’t afford to lose that sort of money. And Jack’s just upgraded all his hardware for the business.” She gave a shake of her head, still not looking at Kate. “I don’t know what we’re going to do. We might have to sell the house.”
“Oh, Lucy, no!”
Lucy shrugged. “It might not come to that. Jack’s gone to see the bank today. But if they turn sludgy …” She didn’t bother to finish.
Kate quickly ran through her own financial situation. “I might be able to lend you something. Not ten thousand, but it might help tide you over. So you can keep the house.” She knew how much Lucy and Jack loved their home. If they had to sell, they would never have anywhere like it again.
Lucy smiled, bleakly. “Thanks, Kate. I appreciate it, but … well, let’s see what the bank says, shall we?”
She took a deep breath. “You can imagine that I wasn’t in the best of moods to start with, though. And when this little monster …” she gave Angus a squeeze “… turned into Hannibal Lecter, it just capped things off nicely.”
She gave a grin. “Anyway, so much for my traumas. How’s your neighbour?”
“About the same.” Kate had visited Miss Willoughby again, but the old lady didn’t seem to have improved.
“Have the police caught the sods who did it?”
“Not yet. She hasn’t been able to give very good descriptions, so unless they catch them doing something else it isn’t very hopeful.”
Lucy shook her head. “God, doesn’t it make you seethe, though? They want birching! An old woman in her eighties, and on her own too! What a way to end up.”
Kate was silent. She thought about the old lady’s flat, bare of family mementoes. The only photographs on display were formal, framed ones of a school, fading pictures of Miss Willoughby with other people’s children, all long since grown-up. She wondered if any of them ever remembered their old teacher. Loneliness was the smell of cooked cabbage and old age.