How Laura Lewis Met Richard Brown

Chapter Six

Richard closed the classroom door after the last of his Year Six children had run in the direction of the dining room. As soon as the bell struck twelve, they’d jumped up from their seats like they were jack-in-the-boxes.

Richard’s stomach grumbled in protest. He’d only eaten a slice of toast for breakfast and had washed it down with three cups of instant coffee. Not at all good for his health or his stomach.

His plan was to pop along to the canteen and see what was on offer. It was Monday, so that usually meant vegetable pie and chips. It was his favourite dish of the week, but although his tummy was rumbling in protest from a lack of food, he had no appetite.

Richard stacked the exercise books from that morning’s English lesson into his cardboard box to take home and mark. A doodle of a small flower, created with coloured pencils, caught his eye. It was on the corner of an exercise book and strictly speaking he should tell the child off. He peered at the name: Jessica. But in truth it made him smile. It was something that Sally would have done. As a journalist she’d kept notebooks all over the house and each and every one had been covered in elaborate doodles. So, too, had been her notes.

When Sally died, Richard had gathered all those notebooks and placed them into a cardboard box which was now tucked into the bottom of his wardrobe. Although three years had passed since her death, he couldn’t bring himself to throw that box out. He told himself that he kept the notebooks to show Henry something of his mother. Something she had created, something that could be seen. In truth, Richard couldn’t bear to throw them away, as the physicality of each doodle proved she had been real. She had been flesh and bones. They were a part of Sally.

His fingers brushed the paper, tracing the delicate lines of the flower. A lump formed in his throat. He blinked, cleared his throat. He had no time for this now. If Sally was here, she would tell him off, tell him to pull himself together and that life was for living.

Richard picked up his bag, flung it over his shoulder and made his way to the canteen.

* * *

‘Are you all ready for the coffee-and-cake afternoon?’ Emma asked, her eyes wide and full of excitement.

Emma and her class always made the bunting and decorations for the school events.

Richard didn’t really share Emma’s enthusiasm. Actually, he wished he could avoid it, but as the Year Six students were taking an active role in proceedings, Richard had to be there. Plus, it was in aid of raising money for new playground equipment.

Richard offered Emma his best sarcastic smile. ‘All ready, just need to get them to calm down a little.’ He laughed. ‘It’s the promise of cake that they love. That and a chance to run around.’

Emma laughed too. She had no idea what he really thought. He pushed the remains of his vegetable pie away, half eaten. He couldn’t stomach it today. Images of Sally kept creeping into his head. The way she always used to have her nose stuck in a book, her cooking spag bol on a Friday night, the way she had gripped his hand when in the throes of labour, her laugh. God how he missed her laugh.

‘You okay, Richard?’ Emma asked, touching his arm.

Richard blinked away the memories. Nodded. Without a word he stood and walked back to the classroom.

* * *

Richard noticed how Gertie’s eyes lit up when he and Henry entered the day room. He thought her excitement was due to the appearance of her grandson rather than him, but as they approached, Gertie quickly ruffled Henry’s hair and then held her hands out to Richard. Taking his hands in hers, she gently squeezed his fingers and asked how he was.

‘Busy. It’s been a busy day.’ Richard wasn’t quite able to meet Gertie’s eyes. He cleared his throat and slowly removed his hands from hers. ‘I’m surprised to find you in here again,’ he said. ‘I thought you’d be in your room reading.’

‘I don’t mind it in here so much, especially when I have the room to myself,’ Gertie said.

‘I made you a painting, Nana Gertie,’ Henry said, shoving the piece of paper into Gertie’s lap.

Two stick people, one painted in blue, the other in pink, had oversized heads and were standing on a patch of green grass.

Gertie rewarded him with one of her famous grins. ‘What a beautiful painting.’

Richard let out a long-held breath and scooped up Henry onto his knee.

‘Thank you, love. I’ll get one of the carers to pop it on my wardrobe,’ Gertie said. She leaned forward and ruffled his hair again. Henry let out a giggle. ‘Do you want to see what’s in the play box while I talk to Daddy?’

Henry nodded, jumped down and scooted over to where the box was located by the window. It was there for all the children to play with, but Henry viewed it as his own as very few other children came to visit their grandparents.

Gertie fixed Richard with one of her hard stares before she spoke. ‘Really, love, how are you?’

Richard averted his gaze. He’d managed to hold it together all day, but one look from Gertie could change all that. He’d picked up Henry from preschool because it was his afternoon off, but the real reason he’d wanted to pick up his son from school was to avoid seeing Tracey. He couldn’t face her. Not today. He would phone her later on instead.

The other reason was that he needed to feel that connection once again with Sally, through his son.

‘Talk to me, love.’

Richard sighed and met her gaze. ‘What is there to say?’ he said.

Gertie remained silent.

Richard looked over to where Henry was lying on the floor, completely unaware of the significance of the day. ‘I miss her. Today is . . . it’s just . . .’ He sighed and shook his head.

‘I know, love, I know.’ She cleared her throat. ‘You just need to think about the good things that you had, that you shared together, the good times. It’s what she would have wanted. You know that.’

‘I know and I do,’ Richard replied. He really did. ‘It’s just so hard sometimes, and today I just can’t think straight. My mind is all messed up. I couldn’t even keep my mind on the class today. I’m sure the kids picked up on it, that my thoughts were elsewhere and not on them.’

‘Sally would have been thirty-five today, wouldn’t she.’ Gertie said the words gently. It wasn’t a question.

‘Yes.’ He sat up straight in the chair, kicked his long legs out in front of him. ‘You’re the first person to ask me about her today. No one mentioned her name at school.’

‘Perhaps they were afraid of upsetting you, love, and more than likely they didn’t know it would have been her birthday.’

‘It’s only been three years.’ Richard heard himself snapping at Gertie and sighed. He hadn’t meant to be sharp with her. She was only trying to help. He took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.’

‘Yes, you did.’ Gertie’s eyes were full of pity and understanding. ‘But there is something that I need to tell you.’

Richard’s head darted from where he’d been watching Henry playing on the floor, surrounded by toy cars, oblivious to the fact that they were talking about his mother, back to his grandmother’s piercing gaze. He knew he wouldn’t like what she had to say.

‘It has been three years, love, and I know how much you loved her.’ Her tone was gentle, softly spoken.

‘I still love her, not loved .’ Richard’s voice was barely audible. ‘I will never stop loving her.’

‘I know you still love her, but she’s not here. You need to live, Richard. Love again, be happy.’

Richard felt the sudden urge to escape from the room. He rose to his feet. ‘I can’t believe you said that. I can’t believe you said those words and on today of all days.’ His hands shook as he ran them over his face in a bid to calm himself down. He couldn’t look at her.

‘Henry, we need to go.’ He realised he was shouting.

Henry, hearing the anger in his father’s voice, sat paralysed, a car clutched tightly in his fist.

‘Oh, don’t be like that, Richard,’ Gertie said pleadingly.

Richard kept his attention on Henry, ignoring her plea.

‘Oh, Daddy, I want to stay. You said we could stay and have cake with Nana.’

‘Not today.’ Richard began to quickly scoop up the cars into the toy box. Pressing the lid firmly into place and dashing any hopes that Henry may have had of staying a little longer, he took his hand and without saying another word, they left the room.

All thoughts of asking the staff about his gran’s health had vanished from his mind.

* * *

Laura spent Monday in the cottage, walking aimlessly from room to room, drinking endless cups of tea and trying to listen to the radio. She’d sat for a bit and read her book, made a simple lunch of soup and bread, and had done a few chores. At five p.m., she reheated a bowl of soup, wolfed it down and then got into her uniform. She headed off to the home, even though her shift wasn’t due to start until eight. She couldn’t stay in the cottage a minute longer. Hazel had phoned that morning as Laura had been eating breakfast and asked if she would be willing to cover a night shift tonight and have the following day off. Even though Laura was meant to be having two weeks of supervised shifts, she’d said yes.

The irony of the situation hadn’t escaped her notice. Laura had deliberately chosen the village for its remoteness, in the hope that the sleepy village would give her time to think and reflect about what had happened. But, although she loved the peace and tranquillity, she did miss being surrounded by people and the care home was full of them. It was where she needed to be.

As she rounded the bend, making her way past the playground, then the hedgerows and flower beds, her torch lighting the way, she nearly collided with a tall, dark-haired man who was clutching the hand of a little boy.

Luckily, Laura was watching where she was walking, unlike the man, and she managed to jump to the side, out of harm’s way. The man and boy continued on their way while Laura spun on the spot, mouth agape at what had happened.

At first, she was angry and an insult was on the tip of her tongue, but two things stopped her in her tracks.

The first was the little boy. She didn’t want to frighten him. The second was the man’s profile. The way he walked, hunched over, as if in pain. Perhaps he had just received bad news?

It was while Laura stood there, pondering these thoughts, that she became aware of having seen the pair before, the previous week. He had been the man who’d held the door open for her. Should she call after them? Ask if he was okay? But it was too late. They were too far away.

* * *

‘You’re a bit eager, aren’t you?’ Hazel sneered as Laura passed by the office. She stopped and glared at the woman.

‘Excuse me?’ Laura asked, all innocence.

‘You shouldn’t be here. Your shift doesn’t start for another two hours. Nothing else better to do?’

For the second time that day, Laura swallowed down the words threatening to spill from her mouth. She answered with a tight smile. ‘I’ll go and see what Linda would like me to do.’ She headed off in the direction of the staffroom.

* * *

Laura found Linda in the day room, sitting next to the woman she had spotted the other day. The lady with the piercing green eyes who had been sitting alone reading. The woman was clearly upset. She kept dabbing at her eyes as Linda whispered what appeared to be comforting words into her ear while rubbing her back.

Laura had clearly stumbled upon a private moment. She should go. She didn’t know this woman. But before Laura had time to leave the safety of the doorway, Linda shifted position in her chair and caught sight of her standing there. Linda looked surprised to see her but quickly regained her composure. Keeping her hand on Gertie’s shoulder, she beckoned Laura over with a wave of her hand.

‘Hello, Laura. What are you doing here so early?’ Linda asked.

‘Oh, I was at a loose end and thought I’d make myself useful,’ Laura said.

‘Do you want to sit with us?’ Linda asked.

Laura hesitated for a moment before she dragged over the stool that was next to Linda’s chair and sat down. She smiled and waited for the old woman to speak.

‘Hello, Laura. I’m Gertie.’

‘Hello, Gertie. What’s upset you?’ Laura looked at Gertie as she asked the question, but then glanced at Linda.

‘She’s a bit upset after what happened with her grandson,’ Linda explained.

‘Richard won’t listen to me. He won’t listen to anyone,’ Gertie said, dabbing at her eyes with a damp tissue. ‘I just want him to be happy.’

Laura nodded. She had no idea what Gertie was going on about, but it was evident that the woman needed to vent her feelings. Then Laura put two and two together. The man who had very nearly bumped into her outside must be her grandson. At least Laura now had a name for the man who had looked equally as upset as his grandmother. Should she tell Gertie this detail? Laura decided to say nothing and instead listened as she nodded sympathetically, allowing Gertie to speak.

Linda leaned forward and held Gertie’s hand. ‘I just need to check everything is okay in the kitchen.’ She turned her attention to Laura and raised an eyebrow.

Laura nodded and asked Gertie if she was happy for her to stay.

Gertie removed the crumpled tissue from her face. Those piercing green eyes met Laura’s once more.

‘My dear,’ she said, ever so quietly. ‘I have so much to tell you.’