The Journey

With the doctor gone, the mood was solemn. Ben felt as though he was intruding, but when he suggested leaving, Mary persuaded him to stay awhile. ‘I’ll go and check on Mother. Adam can put the kettle on, if he doesn’t mind?’ The little man nodded his agreement and set off for the kitchen. Mary then turned to address Ben. ‘We can all keep each other company for a while, unless you really want to leave?’

She thought of how he had come here to Knudsden House in good faith, to return her mother’s bag, and had been quizzed relentlessly about his personal life; on top of that he had been made to think he was duty bound to ask her out one evening. Any other man would have been long gone, but she truly hoped he would stay; his presence gave her so much comfort.

‘I’ll stay as long as you like.’ Ben did not hesitate. ‘There’s nothing urgent waiting at home.’ He had only offered to leave out of consideration, and was delighted that she felt need of him.

‘I won’t be long.’ While Ben went to join Adam in the kitchen, Mary ran upstairs and crept into her mother’s bedroom. She gazed down on Lucy’s sleeping face. In the gentle light from the bedside lamp, her mother looked so much younger; her skin was clear and smooth as alabaster, and her lashes lay like spiders’ legs over the slight curve of her cheeks. Her long hair was loose about her shoulders and her wide, pretty mouth was ever so slightly turned up at the corners as in a half-smile.

Reaching down, Mary laid her own hand over that of her mother. She could feel the warm softness of her skin, and beneath the tip of her fingers, the blood running through Lucy’s veins. Holding hands was not something she and her mother did all that often, so she felt privileged, and oddly humbled.

Choking back the emotion, she slid her mother’s hand beneath the sheets and covered it over. She then stroked her fingers through the long greying strands of hair where they lay nestled on the pillow like silken threads; so soft in her fingers.

She gazed long on Lucy’s face, her eyes following every feature, every shadow and shape, and all the while she wondered about her mother, and about her father. What had transpired before she was born? What was the secret that she had always known existed? And why had she never been told of her parents’ true past?

Her heart turning with emotion and the questions burning bright in her mind, she kissed the sleeping woman and made her way back downstairs to the men. Adam had brewed the tea and was busy pouring it out. ‘She’s sleeping well,’ Mary told them, gratefully accepting the cup that was handed to her. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen her looking so peaceful.’

‘Thank God for that.’ Adam knew what a restless soul Lucy was, and unlike Mary he knew the reason why. ‘It will do her the world of good to sleep through the night.’ His voice fell until it was almost inaudible. ‘If she’s in a deep sleep, maybe she won’t be plagued by the bad dreams.’

‘What bad dreams?’ Mary had heard his quiet words and they bothered her. ‘Mother never told me about any dreams.’

Silently cursing himself, the little man tried to dismiss his remark. ‘Oh, it’s nothing,’ he lied. ‘I recall how she once told me she’d had a bad dream, that’s all.’

Mary wasn’t satisfied. ‘You said she was plagued. That doesn’t sound like one bad dream to me.’ She knew Adam had known her parents long before she was born, and now she realised he was part of the secret she had never been privileged to share. ‘Is there something you’re not telling me?’

Sensing something too deep for his understanding, Ben wisely changed the subject. ‘The fire’s almost out. Shall I put more logs on?’

Relieved that the moment was broken, Adam turned to him. ‘I think it might be a good idea,’ he said, and to Mary, ‘if that’s all right with you?’

Having believed that she was on the verge of a long-awaited peep into the past, Mary now felt cheated. ‘Yes,’ she answered, ‘best keep the fire alive. I for one won’t be going to bed tonight.’

Adam was horrified. ‘You must get your sleep,’ he told her. ‘I’ll stay here and keep a check on your mother. I promise to wake you if needs be.’

Mary looked at Ben. A man of few words, he had such quiet strength. ‘Will you stay?’

He smiled on her, a slow, easy smile that filled her heart and made her feel safe. ‘Of course. Adam’s right, though. Your mother will need you to be bright and alert tomorrow. You’ll sleep better in your bed.’

Mary would not hear of it. ‘I’m staying here with you two. Three pairs of ears are better than one, and we can take it in turns to check in on her. Look – there are two big sofas and a deep armchair. We can all snatch a moment’s sleep when we grow tired.’

She smiled from one to the other. ‘Meanwhile, we’ll drink our tea and talk.’ She paused. ‘The time will soon pass.’

While Ben and Mary sipped their tea and chatted about things other than the one which pressed on their minds, Adam became increasingly agitated. By referring to Lucy’s nightmares, he had almost betrayed his long-held loyalty to her. ‘Mary must never know … promise me you won’t ever tell.’ That had been Lucy’s request to him, and though he had done everything possible for the woman he cherished, he had managed to avoid making an actual promise not to tell.

Somewhere deep in his soul, he truly believed that one day, Mary would have to know the truth of what had happened; not least because she herself was part of that fascinating, devastating story, for without it, she would never have been born.

Discreetly watching him, Mary saw how Adam was pacing the floor, faster and faster, until it seemed he would go crazy. She saw the panic in his face and the way he was rolling his fists together, much like her own mother did when anxious. And she knew, without a shadow of doubt, that old secrets were tearing Adam and her mother apart.

While she watched him, Ben was watching her. And just as she had seen the anguish and pain in Adam’s eyes, he saw the very same in hers. Without a word he took her hand in his and, when she swung her gaze to him, he stroked her face, fleetingly. ‘Your mother will be fine,’ he whispered. ‘You have to believe that.’

Mary acknowledged him with an unsure nod of the head. She wanted him to hold her, and kiss her, and be the safe haven she craved; for in that moment she had never felt so alone in the whole of her life.

Suddenly, Adam was standing before them. ‘I thought I heard a noise – I’m sure it came from upstairs. Please, lass … will you check on your mother again? See if she’s all right?’

Mary didn’t need asking twice. She was on her feet and out of the room before he’d finished speaking. While she was running up the stairs, Ben grew concerned for Adam. Taking the little man by the shoulders, he sat him in the armchair. ‘Here, sit down … before you fall down.’ And when Adam was seated, head low in his hands and his whole body trembling, Ben dashed off to the kitchen and brought him back a glass of water. ‘Drink this … it’ll help calm you.’

By the time Adam had swilled down every last drop of the cool water, Mary had returned. ‘Mother is fast asleep,’ she told them. ‘She hasn’t moved, except to pull down the covers a little.’ Lucy never did like being too warm, even in her sleep.

Adam grabbed her hand. ‘Are you sure she’s all right?’

‘Yes, I’m sure.’ Mary squeezed his hand comfortingly. ‘Like the doctor said … she’s sleeping soundly.’

And then Adam was weeping, quietly at first, until the sobs racked his body, and when he looked up at them he was like a man haunted. ‘I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to your mam,’ he said brokenly. ‘I love her, d’you see? I have loved her for a long, long time … and always will till the day I die, and even after that.’

Mary sat on the edge of the sofa, opposite Adam and next to Ben, but she did not let go of Adam’s hand.

‘Do you think I don’t know how much you love her?’ she asked tenderly. ‘I’ve known it since I was very small. I’ve seen the way you look at her, and I’ve heard you whisper her name … talking to her when you thought she couldn’t hear. But I heard, and I know how much you adore her.’

She had a question. ‘Why did she not love you back in the same way?’

Adam was curiously hurt by her question, though he understood it well enough. ‘She did love me … she still does!’

‘Yes, I know that, but why did she not love you in the same way?’

He smiled painfully at that, a sad, lonely smile that made her feel guilty. ‘We can’t always choose whom we love,’ he answered wisely. ‘I didn’t choose to fall head over heels in love with Lucy, any more than she chose to fall head over heels in love with your daddy.’

He gave a long, rippling sigh. ‘And who could blame her for that? Y’see, Barney Davidson was a very special man. Not because he was handsome or rich, or even because he was exceptional in ways we mere mortals might understand.’ His eyes shone with admiration. ‘No! He was more than that. He was deep, and kind …’ Hesitating, he gave a shrug. ‘Sometimes, words alone can never describe someone.’

‘Please, Adam, will you try to describe him for me? No one ever talks about him.’

Adam was shocked to see the tears running down her face and once again, was tempted to tell her everything. ‘You never knew him, did you, lass – not really?’ he murmured. ‘You were only a wee thing when we lost him. He was my dear, dear friend … the best pal a man could ever have, and I loved him for it.’

Afraid of losing the moment again, Mary persisted. ‘Please, tell me what you know, what you and Mother have always kept from me.’ Her voice broke. ‘I will never rest until I know what happened, and don’t tell me there was nothing untoward in my parents’ lives, because in here …’ she tapped the cradle of her heart ‘… I know there was.’

Deeply moved, he looked into those lovely, tearful eyes. ‘Your mother should never have kept it from you,’ he conceded gruffly. ‘I’ve always known she was wrong about that. I told her you had every right to know, that you were Barney’s child through and through. But she was afraid … always afraid.’

‘Afraid of what?’ Mary gave a sigh of relief. At last she was getting nearer to the truth.

‘I can’t tell.’ He looked from her to Ben. ‘I made a promise. NO!’ He shook his head. ‘I never did make that promise. I thought it would be wrong, d’you see? I told her, “Mary will have to know everything one day” …’ His words trailed away.

‘Adam?’ The girl’s voice penetrated his deeper thoughts. ‘That day is here and now. And you’re right: I have to know, so tell me … please.’

Snatching his hand from her grip, Adam scrambled out of the chair. He paced the floor awhile, then took a moment to stare out of the window at the night, but he said nothing for what seemed an age. Then he walked to the door, opened it and went out, and from the room they could see him standing at the foot of the stairs looking up. His lips were moving, but they could not hear what he was saying.

Mary went to get off the sofa, but Ben reached out and, with a gentle pressure of his hand, held her there. ‘Best to leave him,’ he whispered. ‘Give him time.’ And, knowing Ben was right, she remained still until the little fellow came back into the room.

Upstairs, Lucy thought she heard something. A voice. His voice. Half-asleep, her brain numbed by the sedative, she called out his name. ‘Barney!’ Her voice, and her heart broke, and she could speak no more.

Restless as always, she turned. Forcing open her eyes, and summoning every last ounce of strength, she stretched out her hand, and felt the hard edge of the bedside drawer … Inching it open, she took out a long metal biscuit-box and drew it to her chest, where it lay while she caught her breath and recovered her strength.

A moment later she had opened the lid and dipping her fingers inside, she lifted out a photograph and a long envelope, yellow with age and worn at the corners from where she had opened it many times over the years.