Josephine Cox 3-Book Collection 1: Midnight, Blood Brothers, Songbird

Leaning back against the bench, she sat very still, watching the water as the gentle breeze moved it along in gentle ripples. And while she watched the water, Thomas watched her, thinking that he was more content than any man deserved to be.

After a while, Eileen grew restless. ‘Where are the ducks, Thomas?’

‘Oh, I’m sure they’ll be along in a while. I expect they’re hiding under the bushes, having a little kip.’

‘Promise?’

‘I don’t know if I should.’

‘Are you fibbing, then?’

‘I hope not.’

‘So, promise me, then.’

‘What exactly do you want me to promise?’

She looked at him in puzzlement. ‘How should I know?’

‘Well, if you don’t know, I’m sure I don’t.’

‘There you go again, Thomas! You’ve no idea what you’re talking about. You’ve got it all mixed up again.’

Thomas pointed to the reeds. ‘OK, then. D’you see them reeds there?’

‘Where?’

He pointed again. ‘There – see?’

‘Yes.’

‘Any minute now them ducks will pop their little heads out, to have a look at you and me.’

And sure enough, when Eileen stretched her neck to see, the mother and her babies swam out, as if to say hello. Eileen laughed and clapped her hands and if Thomas had not stopped her, she would have gone right to the edge of the lake to see them.

‘Not so fast!’ Carefully, Thomas took her by the hand and led her down the path, where the two of them stood on the grass to watch as the little family swam to the far edge and waddled ashore.

Eventually, Thomas laid out the picnic rug and the two of them sat and enjoyed a lunch of ham-and-cress sandwiches, followed by home-made apple pie, all washed down with a measure of orange juice from the little plastic tumblers packed by Libby.

When the meal was over and everything was put away, Thomas took out his pipe and puffed away contentedly, while beside him, Eileen was happy just to sit and throw bread to the ducks and other birds scavenging for crumbs of food.

Now and then, Thomas would steal a private glance at Eileen. He saw how she had her face upturned to the sun, and he thought this was how it should be: him and his darling, side by side, so very much in love as they watched the world go by. Then he thought of her late husband and he was filled with remorse. Ian Harrow should be here, sharing the day with Eileen. He should be here, to hold her and give her a ‘proper’ kiss. But he wasn’t, and that was the shame of it.

When later, all his baccy was burned up, Thomas tapped out his pipe and put it away. ‘Do you fancy a walk along the lakeside and up to the conservatory?’ he asked Eileen.

‘Oh, yes please, Thomas!’ Eileen was excited. ‘I would like that very much.’

He was thrilled that this time Eileen had not mistaken him for her husband, as she often did. This time, she had actually asked for ‘Thomas’ to take her.

Hoisting the empty bag over one shoulder, he linked arms with Eileen, taking great care to keep her away from the water’s edge. ‘You must let me know if you get tired,’ he warned. ‘I don’t want you exhausting yourself.’

To which Eileen promptly replied, ‘I’m stronger than you – that’s what Libby said.’

Amused, he asked, ‘Oh, she did, did she?’

‘Yes.’ Eileen tried to recall what her daughter had said. ‘A man does not . . . have the same . . . he does not . . .’ She stopped, then she blew out her cheeks in frustration. ‘Oh dear! I know she said something. All I know is that I am a woman, and I’m stronger than you, ’cause you’re a man.’

Quietly amused, Thomas gave her no argument, except to suggest, ‘If it gets too hot, we’ll go and sit under the trees, shall we?’

Eileen had a great passion for trees. ‘Oh yes, I’d like that.’

Seeing that she looked tired, he slowed the pace as they headed off towards the tropical plant-houses. When they got within sight of the towering glass buildings, Eileen grew nervous. ‘I don’t want to go inside there. I don’t like them big plant-things. They might gobble you up if you’re not careful.’

Because of her fears and the fact that she was tiring now, Thomas took a different, much slower, route. Soon, they had passed the flower-beds, and now they had the old trees in their sights. It was rumoured that these ancient fields, and the timeless woods held many secrets. During the day the park was a bright, open space filled with families and echoing to the laughter of children, but when everyone had gone and darkness fell, it was a brooding, forbidding place. Maybe that was why, from midnight to sunrise, the park was deserted – even though the gates remained open.

Eileen was fascinated by the trees. ‘They hide the sky and you can’t see the sunshine.’ Seated on a wooden bench beside the lion fountain, she pointed to the tallest of them. ‘Look! I can’t see the sun any more.’

‘That’s because the branches and leaves create a massive canopy, shutting out the daylight.’ It saddened him to realize how Eileen’s dementia would suddenly cut into her mind make her a small child again, even if only for a few moments.It was cruel thing.

‘Thomas?’

‘Yes?’

‘Are the trees taller than the houses?’

‘Much, much taller.’

‘Look at that one.’ She pointed to a particularly magnificent spruce. ‘How did it get to be that big?’

‘It’s very old, sweetheart.’

‘Yes, but how did it get so big?’

Not being an expert on trees, Thomas tried to explain in simple terms. ‘Let me see. Well, first of all, they’ve got roots, y’see. The roots are deep under the ground. They’re long and winding, a bit like arms. They can reach out, searching and feeling. Looking for any food or goodness in the soil. Then they suck it up, and it goes into the branches and the leaves, and that’s how the tree grows so big.’

‘Oh, now I see . . . I think.’ When Eileen fell silent again, Thomas thought she might be getting tired. ‘I reckon it’s time we headed for home,’ he said.

Eileen gave a little nod. She stared into the distance, her mind elsewhere.

‘Is anything wrong?’ he asked worriedly. She had grown unusually quiet.

In a soft, anxious voice, she asked, ‘Can we go home, please, Thomas?’

‘Course we can, my darling.’

‘Thank you, Thomas.’

‘It’s my fault,’ he chatted on. ‘I ought never to have kept you out so long.’ He had been enjoying himself so much, he’d simply lost track of time. ‘I’m sorry I tired you out. But we’ll be home soon. After you’ve had a little sleep, you’ll feel right as rain.’