husband to keep me warm and safe, whereas you, Marie – who do you confide in? I pity you because you have no one to listen and comfort you in the middle of the night when you wake troubled over what you did. I might have listened at the time if only you had come to me. Maybe we two might have come up with some kind of plan that would have helped everyone. But you didn’t let me in until it was too late, and the child was no more. And now I don’t want anything else to do with you.’
‘I understand,’ Marie replied in the smallest whisper. ‘I am sad to have lost your friendship, Eileen. Ever since we were children, we were always together like sisters, and now I fear I may never see or hear from you ever again.’
Eileen made no reply. ‘Excuse me, do you need a taxi or not?’ The driver was growing irritable.
‘I’m sorry, I’m just coming.’ Marie waved a hand.
‘Oh … take your time why don’t you? I’m sure I don’t mind either way,’ the driver called back. ‘The meter ticks on, whether I’m driving or waiting.’
Another question had niggled at Eileen over these past few days. ‘How did you track us down here? How did you find out when Tony and I would be in Blackpool, and at this hotel? And even the number of days we were booked in for?’
‘I know you have always loved this resort, and I desperately needed to talk with you to try and mend bridges between us. I had an idea you might have booked into the hotel we stayed at with you before around this time of year. So I phoned them, and my hunch was right. Then I wrote to Tony and asked to meet up.’ She gave a nervous glance to the waiting taxi driver. ‘I’m sorry, Eileen, but I really must go or I’ll miss my train, and my daughter will be waiting for me at the other end.’
In the face of Eileen’s hostility, she gathered her bags and fled without waiting to say goodbye to Tony. Having waited until Marie was hurrying out of the hotel and into her taxi, Tony then made his way down to be with Eileen. He slid a comforting arm about her shoulders, while whispering in her ear, ‘My darling, I made one mistake and never a day goes by when I don’t regret what happened. It’s you I love. It’s you I need, always.’
When he looked up, Marie was already out of sight.
Out of their lives.
Maybe forever.
‘Are you all right, sweetheart?’ Tilting his mirror the driver watched as Marie wiped away her tears.
‘Yes thank you.’ She felt deeply embarrassed at being caught crying in front of a stranger.
‘Had a good holiday, have you?’ Like all good taxi drivers, he was a bit of a knight in shining armour, determined to cheer his passenger.
‘Sort of, yes. Thank you.’
‘Going home on the train, are you?’
‘Yes, I never did learn to drive, but I enjoy the train ride, so that’s all right.’
‘Being met at the other end, are you?’
‘Yes.’ Thinking he was a bit of a chatterbox, Marie gave a whimsical little smile. ‘I’m being met by my daughter, Anne, and my granddaughter, Cathy.’
‘A granddaughter, eh?’ he smiled at her in the rear-view mirror. ‘Grandchildren are a special gift. I’ve got four grandchildren – one girl and three boys – ranging from our Sean, who’s just turned three, a right little devil he is. Then there’s John and Michael and then our Lily, who’s just coming up to her fourteenth birthday.’
He smiled at Marie again through the mirror. ‘Lily’s the chatterbox. Always talking about how she means to be a nurse when she’s old enough. I can certainly see her doing that, ’cos she has the kindest, loveliest nature. Mind you, get her riled up, and she’ll show you a temper, and no mistake!’
There followed a moment of silence as he wound his way in and out of the increasingly heavy holiday traffic. ‘I don’t get to see my grand-kids as often as I’d like, what with me working all hours, and the kids living some ten miles in different directions from where we are.’
‘Oh, that’s a shame.’ Marie would have preferred a quiet moment, but she didn’t want to seem rude by not showing an interest. The conversation with Eileen was still heavy on her mind. Just now, she did not feel comfortable talking about grandchildren … especially to a stranger.
‘How old is your granddaughter, if you don’t mind me asking?’
‘Old enough to know her own mind … she’s independent and opinionated, and she can talk the hind leg off a dog!’
The driver chuckled. ‘I know exactly what you mean. When me and Lily get chatting together, it’s non-stop like the hens have just been turned out o’ their pens!’
Fiddling in his shirt pocket, he handed a photograph to Marie, ‘There you go! That’s our Sean. He’s a right little Tarzan! Swims like a fish, plays football with the big boys, and he can climb trees like a monkey!’ He gave a hearty chuckle. ‘Born to be a winner, that’s our Sean. He’s a right little buggeroota, and no mistake!’
Marie admired the little tyke as appropriate, then handed the photo back.
While keeping a wary eye on the heavy traffic, the driver continued the conversation, ‘You didn’t say how old your granddaughter was.’
‘Oh, well, she’s not as young as your Lily.’ After her traumatic time in Blackpool, Marie was comforted by the thought of seeing that lovely girl. ‘She’s eighteen, coming up nineteen. Her name is Cathy. She’s sweet-natured, and small-built. She’s a kind and caring girl, and animal-mad! In fact, just lately, she’s been talking about packing in her job at the shop where she works and training to be a vet.’
‘Oh, but that’s good … isn’t it?’ He sensed a note of disapproval in Marie’s voice.
‘Well, yes I suppose. But my daughter, Anne – her mother – has always hoped that Cathy might one day get the qualifications to lead her into a career as a school-teacher. She’s very good with the younger children. She used to take them for singing tuition in the village hall. But since she’s been working at the shop, she doesn’t have much time to plan a different future. But there’s time enough yet, I suppose when she’s ready.’
Smiling proudly, Marie informed the driver, ‘She’s torn between the shop and her real ambitions. On the one hand, she loves to be with the children … and on the other hand, she used to love helping out at the local vets. She often came home with stray animals. One time she came home clutching a cat in a basket. Both its ears had been torn off – by accident or deliberate, no one knows.’
‘Good grief!’ the taxi driver was horrified at the idea that someone might have deliberately done such a thing. ‘Mind you, there are some nasty people out there!’
‘I agree, but we don’t know for sure if it was deliberate. The vet had an idea that it could have ripped its ears when climbing under barbed wire, but the damage was so bad, he couldn’t really say. He did manage to save enough of both ears for a little wiggle, though. Someone left it on the doorstep of the vets. Maybe they couldn’t afford to pay for treatment. Cathy had it sleeping with her on the bed for weeks.
