The Runaway Woman - Part 22
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Part 22

Lucy sighed regretfully. 'I wish I was more like you, Kathleen. But there you go. I'm not and that's the end of it!'

'If I give you some good advice, would you take it?'

'I won't promise, but give it to me, anyway.'

'Right then! And it's nothing terrible, or shameful either. I just want you to get out and about, Lucy. I know it will be hard, but try not to dwell on what you've lost. Think about what you could gain by taking this precious time for yourself. Try exciting things. Take your mind off your worries. Do something completely different from anything you've ever done before.'

'Oh, so now we're going back to the man on the train, are we?'

'Well, that would not be a bad idea, but I was not about to say that. Though, while we're talking, don't you think it's strange that you met him in the bus shelter, and then he turns up on the very same train that you were on? I reckon Fate was taking a hand there, Lucy girl!'

Lucy agreed but she now a.s.sured Kathleen, 'I'm sure it was just coincidence and it has nothing to do with Fate.'

'If you think so. But, look, sweetheart, all I really want is for you to take things easy.'

'What else would I do anyway, except take things easy? This is a very quiet little village, with lovely scenery, delightul walks, and a pretty harbour, with cafes and little shops. To be honest, that's enough for now.'

'I'm glad to hear it. And you're right. You do best to just walk in the sunshine. Feel the sea breeze against your face. And please, Lucy girl ... do not come back until you feel you're ready to deal with everything. And if you do find yourself short of money, just give me a shout.' She gave a naughty chuckle. 'Unless, of course, your sugar daddy turns up again, pouring money at your feet, in exchange for a favour or two ... know what I mean, Lucy girl?'

'Oh, yes! I know what you mean all right.' As always, Lucy felt easier when chatting with Kathleen. 'I have sufficient money for my needs,' she confessed, although she did not go into detail. 'I'll be alright, honest.'

'Well, the offer is there if needed,' Kathleen a.s.sured her. 'Call me again tomorrow, but for now, don't forget to talk with Anne. Call her right now!'

'I will,' Lucy promised.

When she had rung off Lucy couldn't help but reflect on what Kathleen had suggested. The very idea of allowing a stranger to take advantage of her just to get her own back on her husband was unthinkable.

Partly indignant and partly amused, Lucy promised herself that she would not even think about the man from the train any more. Hopefully their paths would not cross again. Ever! The very thought of allowing a stranger to get close to her in the way Kathleen had joked about made her shiver!

Somewhere in the back of her mind, though, she could not help but wonder if he might actually be attracted to her in that particular way.

Banning the thought from her mind, Lucy picked up the telephone receiver again. She dialled the prefix number for outside, and then her daughter's number.

I hope she's in, Lucy thought. I know she often takes the baby across the park to feed the ducks.

Anne was just securing the baby into the pram, ready for their walk, when the telephone rang. Taking the pram with her, she hurried to the telephone and s.n.a.t.c.hed up the receiver.

'h.e.l.lo?'

'It's me, love.' It was good to hear her daughter's voice.

'Oh, Mum! I've been worried about you, waiting to know if you got to Kathleen's aunt's all right.'

Lucy had been so preoccupied, she'd forgotten that Anne believed she was taking her break with Kathleen's old aunt. 'Yes, I had a good train journey and then I got a taxi, and now I'm just settling in.'

She was careful not to reveal her true whereabouts. The last thing she needed was for Martin or Paula to find out where she really was.

The baby was making sounds down the telephone. 'He can hear you, Mum,' Anne told her. 'He's reaching out to touch the phone. Go on, Mum. Talk to him.'

For a few precious moments, Lucy listened down the line, while her grandson made familiar noises close to the receiver.

She laughed. 'He really does know who I am, doesn't he?' She was thrilled. 'He'll be holding proper conversations before you know it,' she told Anne. Then it was back to chatting with her little grandson. 'Love you, big boy. I'll be home soon, and then Nanna will take you out to feed the ducks, or walk across the park, through the trees and up to the top of the hill. You'll enjoy that.' The thought of her darling grandson brought the slightest gleam of a tear to her eye. She was glad that she had managed to move the conversation away from where she actually was without lying to her daughter. 'I'll call again tomorrow, and you are not to worry about me. I mean to rest a lot and think things through, and hopefully, come home a stronger person.'

Anne was greatly relieved. She knew her mother was capable enough to achieve what she had set out to do. Although she was also aware of the grief and pain her mother was being made to deal with just now.

'Please, Mum, don't rush home. We're all OK here. This is your time. Use it well, eh?'

'I will, yes, and you're not to worry. Oh, and as it's not easy for you to get hold of me, you can always ring Kathleen. But, I will try to ring you as often as I can.'

'Oh, Mum! Don't be worrying about calling us. Unless, of course, you might feel the need to talk. OK?'

'Yes. Oh, and give my love to Sam and everyone.'

Just as she thought the conversation was coming to an end, Lucy was taken aback when Anne asked, 'Does that "everyone" include Dad?'

'Well ... of course!'

'And have you spoken to him yet?'

'No. But I will.' In truth she had no intention of calling him.

Anne reminded her, 'He's still working every hour G.o.d sends. I expect he misses you, but he's being well looked after.'

'Oh, thank you, Anne. It's good of you to keep an eye on him, but your father is quite capable of making his own tea. You've got enough to do without taking his meals round and running after him.' Realising that she was being a little too harsh, Lucy quickly tempered her tone. 'And besides, knowing how busy you are with the baby and everything, I'm sure your father would not want you to run yourself ragged on his behalf.'

'Oh, no, it's all right, Mum!' Anne a.s.sured her. 'Dad's being well taken care of, but it's Paula who's keeping an eye on him. I went round there this morning to make sure he had his breakfast before he went to work, but Paula was already there. I didn't realise you had asked her to keep an eye on him. Anyway, they were both enjoying bacon and eggs. Then I helped her clear up and we left the kitchen sparkling.'

'Really?' Lucy felt physically sick. 'Paula is taking care of him. Well, that's good of her.'

'Yes, and she may be popping round tonight ... to keep him company. Apparently there's some programme they both want to watch on television, so Dad suggested they watch it together. Paula told me not to fret about Dad, because she doesn't mind keeping an eye on him while you're away. Paula is a good sister, isn't she, Mum?' she finished kindly.

Lucy was truly shaken. 'Well, she does seem to have everything in hand, doesn't she?' she replied eventually.

'Yes, and she promised me, that it was no trouble at all. So, there you are, Mum. That must be a load off your mind, eh?'

Lucy was thoroughly shocked and disgusted at what Anne had just told her, yet she must pretend that she was grateful to Paula.

'Yes, of course, and it's good that you don't need to keep running round, cleaning the house and cooking his meals. If Paula wants to do it, let her get on with it. Now that she's on her own and not working full time at the minute, she has little else to do.'

She was desperate to a.s.sure Anne that she need not go round every day. Her greatest fear was that Anne might find Paula and Martin together, just as she herself found them in Paula's bedroom.

To that end, she told Anne, 'Paula has obviously decided to take the weight off your shoulders, so she might feel hurt if you do interfere. I should leave her be. Since Ray left, Paula seems to have lost her way, and taking care of Dad will give her a focus. Just leave her to it, love.'

'You're right, Mum. Anyway, Dad's always on the telephone, and sometimes he pops in on his way home from work, so it's not as though we don't see him, is it? I think he's making a big effort because Sam's decided to stay here for the time being.'

'That's fine then.' Lucy was somewhat relieved.

'We all love you so much, Mum ... and we want you to feel strong again. Without you, Mum ... whatever would we do, eh?' Anne finished emotionally.

Lucy was still reeling, but she made a valiant effort to sound her usual self. 'Oh, sweetheart, that's a lovely thing to say ... thank you.'

'Take care then, Mum. I'll tell Dad you called, shall I?'

'If you like, sweetheart.'

'Mum ... before you go ...?'

'Yes?' Lucy was anxious that Anne had not detected anything to make her suspicious about her father and Paula.

'Well, it's you and Dad really. Have you had a falling-out or something?'

'Goodness!' Lucy was partially relieved. 'Whatever makes you think we've fallen out?'

'Nothing really ... only Dad said you hadn't called and he seemed worried. You said you haven't spoken to him yet, and to be honest, Mum, I really thought you would call him first.'

'Goodness! Don't you think I tried?

'Oh, I see ... I'm sorry, Mum. I did think you might have been trying. I said that to Dad.'

'Oh, you know what your father's like in and out of the house like a Jack-in-the-box. It's never easy to pin him down. I'll catch him later. Besides, from what you've told me, it seems he's being looked after very well.'

'So you haven't had a row then?'

'Like I said ... he's not the easiest man in the world to track down. Just tell him I'm OK. Will you do that for me?'

'Yes, Mum, and I'm sorry I got the wrong end of the stick.'

'Aw, that's all right, love. Stay safe. Say h.e.l.lo to Les for me, and tell Samuel not to get into any bother, but to keep his head down and get on with what he's supposed to be doing.'

Anne laughed out loud. 'If I gave him a list of instructions like that, he'd tell me where to go, but I will send him your love.'

'You're right, he wouldn't appreciate a list of do's and don'ts. Oh, and give my little grandson a great big kiss from his nanna, will you?'

'I will. 'Bye, Mum. Love you.'

''Bye for now, sweetheart. Love you too.'

While Anne put the receiver down, Lucy was still reeling from what she had learned.

For the moment, it was all too much to take in.

Replacing the receiver, she fell back onto the bed.

'So! It seems Paula is now the Angel of Mercy, eh? Round there all hours, making his tea, curled up to watch television together, and no doubt climbing the stairs to my bed!' Her voice trembled with anger.

The memory of finding them together in Paula's bed was still vivid, like a moving picture in her mind. She wondered if she would never be rid of it.

Right now, though, her first instinct was to check out of the hotel and go back home, where she would tackle them head on, once and for all, regardless of the consequences. Greatly agitated, she began pacing the floor, muttering to herself. 'In my house! Making herself at home, is she? In the bedroom as well, I shouldn't wonder! Martin and her ... together ... in my bed!'

She wanted to scream to the heavens, but instead she wept bitter tears.

After a time, when rage had mellowed to sorrow, she felt the need to get outside, to walk in the fresh air and rid the bad ideas from her thoughts.

Too uncomfortable to settle, she paced the floor, up and down, backwards and forwards, sometimes pausing with her hand on the telephone. She was burning to relay what she had just heard to someone who might understand what she was going through ... someone who would advise her as to whether she should go back and face it full on. One thing was for sure: it was painfully obvious that Martin was not missing her. Not while he had her sister close at hand. Lucy was sorely tempted to stay here, until her mind and heart were quieter.

She needed to talk things through. But who would she call? Kathleen? No! Kathleen must not be drawn into this particular problem. And besides, Lucy thought Kathleen had done more than enough for her. She could not burden the children with it. Who then? Who would care one way or another about her predicament?

Inevitably, her parents came to mind, and as always, the tears were not far away.

The truth was plain enough. Apart from her dear friend, Kathleen, there was no one in the whole wide world she could call.

Going into the bathroom, she splashed a handful of cold water over her face, then dabbed it dry with the flannel.

Collecting her handbag, she made her way out of the room, and to the lift, which thankfully was already waiting.

She had no idea where she might go. All she knew was that she had to get out of there. She had to get as far away as she could, and find some quiet, lonely corner, where she might think of what to do next.

When the lift stopped at the ground floor, Lucy got out.

Rather than hand the key in at the desk, where the receptionist might notice that she was upset, Lucy slid it into her handbag. Then, careful not even to glance in the direction of the desk, she took a wide sweep, and headed for the main doors.

In her haste to get away, she was almost running. And when at that moment she dropped her handbag in a panic, she was more fl.u.s.tered when the clip on the bag sprang open and her purse fell out, spilling its contents over the carpet.

Quickly, she grabbed them up and went through the main doors at speed.

Lucy had no idea that her rushed exit had been seen by those at the desk. 'My word! She's in some haste, isn't she?' That was the receptionist, who was grateful for the momentary respite from the awkward conversation she was having with her new guest, a businessman with a lovely smile. 'Wonder where she's off to, in such a dash?' she remarked.

Dave Benson had also seen Lucy's hurried exit and had recognised her instantly. 'She does seem a little fl.u.s.tered, doesn't she?' He was surprised to see Lucy again, and asked, 'Is she one of your guests?'

Like the receptionist, he was eager to bring the conversation to a close. 'I think we're almost finished here,' he said. 'I have only one complaint to speak of: that I was not informed earlier that I was being transferred here, to the Meridian's sister hotel. It was not the best welcome I have ever experienced to be walking into what looked like a bomb site, only to be told that the hotel was undergoing a complete refurbishment, and that I, along with others, was being transferred to various sister hotels. I have no problem with that, but I would have expected a prior warning.'

'I do understand that, Mr Benson, and I thank you for being most patient. I can a.s.sure you that notices were sent out, and I'm sorry you seem to have been overlooked, probably because, as you say, it was a last-minute booking.'

With his mind on Lucy, he gave no answer, until she went on, 'I really am sorry. But we do have a very nice room ready for you with a harbour view, and as compensation we've arranged free breakfasts throughout your stay with us.'

Dave was past being interested in what she had to say, but he thanked her all the same. 'That's very kind. So we'll let the matter rest there, shall we?'

'Yes, thank you. I'll call a porter to take your luggage up.'

But Dave was now in a hurry. 'Is it possible I could leave my bag behind the desk? I need to go out just now. I'll collect my belongings on the way back.'

'Of course!'

Dave opened his overnight bag, slid the briefcase inside, snapped the lock shut and swung the bag onto the desk. 'Thank you.'

Then he gave the receptionist a smile to remember, before hurrying towards the main doors, his eyes peeled for a sight of the woman from the bus shelter. He did not want to let her out of his sight a second time.

Behind him, the receptionist reached under the desk for a small bottle. She drew it out and was about to take a sip when another guest arrived. 'Oh! Good afternoon, Mrs Armitage. What can I do for you?' With sleight of hand, she discreetly returned the bottle to its hiding place.