Two-Hundred Steps Home Volume Four Read online

  One day a girl walked in the woods. She was looking for a handsome prince but only found a slimy croaking frog. I wish my fairy godmother would come and turn this frog into a prince. The fairy godmother arrived in a sprinkle of stars. I have come to grant your wish. She waved her wand but gave a loud sneeze and with a puff of smoke she turned herself into a frog. Oh bother said the fairy godmother as she hopped away with her wand in her mouth. She wondered how to turn herself back into a fairy. The princess couldn’t help because she had run away.

  The fairy godmother talked to the other frog and found out it didn’t want to be a prince, it liked being a frog. The fairy frog hopped until it came across a cottage in the woods. A girl with gold hair was climbing out a window, running from the sound of roaring bears. Little girl said the fairy godmother, if you wave this wand and turn me back into a fairy I will help you escape the angry bears. The little girl picked up the wand and ran off with it into the woods. Drat said the fairy and hopped through the window. Hello Daddy Bear said the fairy frog, that little girl with gold hair has stolen my wand. Never mind that said the bear she ate our porridge and broke our chair. She is a naughty girl.

  The bears and the fairy frog ran after the little girl. They found her stuck in a muddy puddle waving the wand and shouting at a slimy frog sitting on her head. Mummy Bear took the wand and turned the fairy frog back into a godmother. The fairy godmother thanked the bears and the frog and turned the little girl into a wasp. You naughty little girl, you will be a wasp until you are sorry for stealing the porridge and my wand and for breaking Baby Bear’s chair. The fairy godmother waved goodbye to the bears and the frog who didn’t want to be a prince and went home to bed.

  Claire read the story and smiled. She certainly has imagination. There are full stops and capital letters too. I wonder if I should add punctuation? How much are parents meant to get involved in their child’s homework? Looking up at the expectant expression on Sky’s face, Claire decided to leave the masterpiece as it was. She hated it when Carl found fault with a presentation that had taken hours to prepare: why burst the girl’s bubble by suggesting she add speech marks? Maybe they could work on them later.

  “Well done, Sky, this is very good.”

  Her niece beamed and then nodded. “Yes, I know. I’m very good at stories, Miss Henley says so.”

  Slightly taken aback, Claire hesitated before laughing out loud. Oh for the confidence of youth.

  ***

  TWENTY-ONE

  “Auntie Claire, I don’t feel very well.”

  Claire looked down at her niece and recoiled slightly at the green tinge of her skin.

  “Are you going to be sick? Lean over the side for heaven’s sake. But not too close! I don’t want you falling in.” She looked around at the other passengers and prayed Sky didn’t vomit on any of them. Something of her reaction must have come through her voice, because a clammy little hand sought out hers. “Sorry, Claire. I don’t mean to feel poorly. I’ve never been on the sea before.”

  Patting the frozen hand, Claire tried to remain calm. The white tips of the choppy waves weren’t helping. It hadn’t seemed that windy on the shore, but here in the harbour the small craft was rocked by gusting blasts that whipped the waves to froth. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea. I might have known Sky would get sea sick, especially as she’s still recovering from her fever. When she remembered Sky’s amazement as they first arrived at the coast, Claire couldn’t feel it was a bad move. Her mouth had dropped into a perfect ‘o’ of wonder at the grey sea spreading out before them to the horizon.

  “It’s so big,” she had said quietly, her eyes wide and staring.

  The tour guide called out, interrupting Claire’s thoughts. “You can see grey seals now, if you look towards the shore. There are still some youngsters playing if you look closely. We’ll get in as near as we can.”

  “Look, Sky,” Claire said brightly, “baby seals.” Sea spray soaked her skin and she knew it was frizzing her hair to an impossible mess. Snuggling deeper into her jacket, she felt Sky’s hands and face to ensure she wasn’t getting too cold.

  Sky raised her head to look at the slick grey animals frolicking in the sea near the boat. Her complexion was still green and Claire hoped the distraction would help her keep breakfast on the inside. I wonder if I dare get out my phone and take some pictures for the blog. If Sky is going to throw up I might not get another opportunity. The boat pitched suddenly and she felt her own stomach lurch. I might even be joining her.

  “If you look closely you can see common seals as well as grey seals. The common seals are actually rarer than the grey seals so we’re fortunate to see both today.”

  The Guide’s words rolled over Claire like the sea as she focussed on getting a few snaps before another gust of wind sent her or her phone overboard. Feeling a tug at her sleeve, Claire could sense Sky trembling beside her. Tucking the phone back in the safety of a pocket, she pulled her niece onto her lap and hugged her close.

  “Alright, sweetie. Just keep breathing through your nose and concentrate on the seals.”

  “Here, love, give her one of these.”

  Claire looked up to see a kindly face peering out through a fur-lined hood. Glancing down, she saw a pack of polo mints nestled in the woollen glove reaching out towards her.

  “Thank you,” she said with real gratitude. Pulling off her gloves, she retrieved a mint and handed it to Sky. She was rewarded by seeing the distress on Sky’s face ebb slightly, like the outgoing tide.

  Flashing a smile at the stranger, Claire hugged Sky close again. “That’s it, poppet. You’re being very brave. Well done.”

  After a few more days with me, the poor girl isn’t going to want to see her Auntie Claire again. Somehow the thought made her sad.

  ***

  TWENTY-TWO

  “Hey Claire, how’s tricks?”

  “Kim! You read my mind. I’ve been meaning to call.” Claire tucked her feet under the duvet and curled up round the phone, prepared to enjoy a good gossip with her best friend.

  “I should think so, you old trout. I haven’t heard from you in a month. I have to read your blog to find out more about your Aussie fella and getting mugged. What happened to ringing your mate?”

  Claire flushed hot and glanced down to where Sky lay sleeping next to her on the bed, glad her niece couldn’t witness her embarrassment. “I’m so sorry. I feel like I’m living in a bubble. It’s easy to forget there’s a real world going on away from these infernal hostels.”

  “So, you’re not really enjoying your challenge? The blog’s great. I’d love to meet your Aussie friend. He sounds yummy.”

  “You’d have to go a long way to do that. He’s flying home with his wife and kids any day now.” Claire swallowed hard and hoped Kim wouldn’t detect the wobble in her voice.

  “Oh dear. You fell for a married man, didn’t you?” Kim’s voice was a perfect blend of sympathy and censure.

  “I didn’t know he was married when I met him.” Claire spoke without thinking, before realising her hot words amounted to an admission of guilt. Not wanting to analyse the emotions pumping through her chest, Claire sought to change the subject.

  “I’ve got my niece with me at the minute.” Sky stirred beneath the covers and Claire lowered her voice, not wanting to wake her. “I’m looking after her for the Easter holidays.”

  “Oh.” There was silence.

  “What is it Kim?” Silence was not a normal state of affairs when Kim was on the phone. Normally the challenge was squeezing a word in sideways.

  “Jeff and I were thinking of coming to see you, that’s all. From the blog we gather you’re in East Anglia still. Be nice to have a day or two away. The rehearsals are fun, but a girl can only be Puck for so long.”

  Her voice was light, but Claire could tell her friend was unhappy. “When’s opening night? I hope I’ll be able to come and see you perform.”

  “Oh, not for a few weeks. Yes, do come.” Ther
e was still a chill. Part of Claire felt irritated. It’s not like Kim and I are the kind of friends who call every week. She wondered if there was another reason for her friend’s call, but a day spent with Sky had left her drained of all energy and emotion and she didn’t have the strength to delve behind Kim’s words.

  “So, when are you and Jeff thinking of coming? We’re in Wells at the moment but we’ll be in Hunstanton for the weekend.”

  “Sunny Hunny. Lovely. Why don’t we come and stay there? If we can’t get into the hostel we’ll book a B&B.”

  “Are you sure you and Jeff are up to socialising with a six-year-old?” Claire realised how ungrateful that sounded. “Not that I won’t be delighted to see you both. It’s just she’s, well, quite full on.”

  Another silence drenched the line. Claire’s tired brain tried to pick through the possibilities; for once her radar concerning her friend felt way off beam.

  “That’s fine. Jeff likes kids.” Kim’s voice sounded strained. Claire wondered if her friend had guessed the cause of her own break up with Michael. That must be it. She doesn’t want to talk about kids and relationships because she knows it broke mine.

  “Okay then, hun. Send me an email or text once you know what your plans are. If Jeff loves kids he can entertain Sky while we have a proper natter.”

  “Thanks. I’d like that.”

  As she hung up the phone Claire couldn’t shake the feeling that Kim was holding back. I’m probably imagining it. I’m so tired nothing makes sense anymore and I’m jumping at shadows. Nothing bothers Kim; she’s indestructible. She tried to think it through but her eyes refused to stay open. Even though the iPad cheerfully informed her it was only 9pm she ignored it, glad none of her erstwhile colleagues could see her hitting the sack when they were probably only just leaving the office and heading for the bar.

  I’d take twelve hours of Boardroom bullying and office shenanigans over keeping up with a six-year-old any day.

  ***

  TWENTY-THREE

  Rain hammered at the window as if it, too, wanted to come in and watch TV. Claire reached for the remote and turned up the volume; the dulcet tones of Rapunzel drowning out the drumming beat. She looked around the abandoned lounge, thankful that they were the only occupants.

  Next to her, head propped up on one hand, Sky gazed at the TV as though it were entirely responsible for the rotten weather preventing their trip to the beach. She sighed and the noise cut through thrumming rain and Disney’s finest. Claire smiled at the grown up sound. I wonder if she’s learned that from me or Ruth?

  “Do you want to watch something else?” Claire had suggested Tangled because she thought she could work with it on in the background. Lack of attention had left her blog drifting with diminishing views and comments and she knew some serious effort was required to breathe life back into it.

  The last thing I need right now is Carl on a crusade to have me do another challenge. The Doctor’s Note isn’t going to hold out much longer. I don’t think surviving the school holidays without committing murder is the kind of thing Happy Cola or the YHA would want associated with their brands, however much it must be a reality for millions of parents.

  Another sigh cut through her thoughts and she put down the iPad, searching for patience and a smile. Hitching it in place she turned to Sky and said in as lively a voice as she could muster after a night of bad dreams and no sleep, “What shall we do then? Coffee and cake? More homework? We could go exploring: There are lots of places other than the beach to visit.”

  “But I wanted to go to the beach!” Out came the bottom lip. Claire pushed away the irritation and searched her mind for alternatives.

  “I think there’s a games room here, shall we go and have a look?”

  A glimmer of interest flicked across Sky’s face. I’ll take it. Claire got up and held out her hand. After a beat of hesitation, Sky took it and let herself be led from the room.

  “I win, I win!” Sky hopped around gleefully as she connected four yellow discs in a row, once more cutting off her Auntie from her own straight run. Claire smiled at the elation, feeling only slightly guilty at her own cheating. Surely it’s only bad when you cheat to win? Cheating to lose – to make a child smile – that’s normal, right?

  Her idle brain ran on with the idea. I wonder if I should win now and then, just so she gets used to losing? Surely losing has to happen at some point in a child’s life? Somewhere in her mind she remembered Ruth telling her about the trials of children’s parties, where everyone had to win at pass the parcel or musical statues. I don’t remember it being like that when we were growing up? Losing, crying about it, getting over it, was all part of being a kid. She looked over at Sky’s beaming grin and compared it with what she knew the alternative would be if she beat her niece. Maybe that particular lesson can wait.

  “Well done, Sky. Two out of three?”

  ***

  TWENTY-FOUR

  “Come on, Sky, let’s go get some fresh air.” Besides, ten defeats in a row at Connect 4 are more than I can stand. I’m going to have to win at some point and then there will be tears.

  “But it’s still raining, Auntie Claire.”

  “We won’t melt. You can wear the waterproofs I bought you. I’ve been looking online – apparently there’s a miniature railway that runs from here to a place called Walsingham –”

  “Walsingham? The place with the Shrine?” Sky’s face lit with interest. “We learned about that in school. Yes, can we go? I’d like to see the shrine and say a prayer for Mummy.”

  Bloody hell, where did that come from? Claire couldn’t have been more shocked if Sky had asked to strip naked and run through the streets. Actually, given her niece’s willingness to run around the hostel room naked, even that wouldn’t have shocked her as much. Ruth isn’t religious, as far as I know? Certainly Mum and Dad aren’t. She thought back to the homework Sky had shown her. I guess hers is a Church of England school.

  “Of course we can go, darling. I don’t know much about it but I’m sure there will be guide books. Do you want to go on the train? We can drive there otherwise.”

  Sky’s forehead furrowed in thought. “If we go on the train it will give you something for your blog, won’t it?”

  Claire felt her niece’s kindness like a hammer blow. Maybe my niece isn’t a spoiled brat after all. Guilt at her previously unfounded views of the girl flushed her cheeks red. In an attempt to hide her reaction she reached over and pulled Sky into a hug. “That’s very thoughtful, sweetheart. Yes, I can write about the train ride on my blog.” Although Carl won’t think it exciting enough unless you fall out the carriage and under the wheels. I don’t suppose there’ll be much drama at a shrine either.

  “Look Auntie Claire, there’s the train! I can see steam. I didn’t know it was a steam train.” She clapped her hands and stood on tiptoe to get a better look. All along the platform bedraggled parents stood waiting with bouncing children in a rainbow of overalls and waterproofs. I could do a good trade in coffee right now. Or gin.

  As the train slid to a standstill next to the platform, Claire stifled a groan. Oh my god, look at it. It’s tiny. We could walk to Walsingham quicker than that thing. She shoved the thought away and took some snaps with her phone. At least it’s something visual for the blog. I wonder if Ruth would mind if I posted some pictures of Sky? Maybe I can attract a new Mummy audience? She cast another glance along the line of waiting parents. They look like they could use a laugh.

  The rain drizzled to a halt as they left the station and within minutes they were bathed in midday sunshine. Claire turned her face to the window and let the rays bathe her face while Sky sat opposite her, face pressed close to the glass taking in the scenery. Every time they went under a bridge – which seemed to be quite often – she whooped in a way that Claire thought only children in TV programmes did.

  She found her niece’s delight in the little things endearing. When did I last get that excited? Even a pay in
crease raised little more than a smile and a feeling of ‘about time too’. When do we lose that pleasure in the mundane? A strange grief for her own lost childhood swamped Claire. Maybe that’s why people have kids: so you can see the world through their eyes and enjoy it again.

  Tiredness dragged at her shoulders and eyelids and the remaining days of the Easter Holidays stretched out relentless in mind. Not sure that would be enough for me. You see the evils in the world too, I bet. Worries and fears that didn’t exist before. Sod that. Settling back into her seat, Claire closed her eyes and tried to grab some rest before Sky began asking questions.

  ***

  TWENTY-FIVE

  The sun pressed down as Claire and Sky walked into the centre of Walsingham. White and wood-striped buildings huddled round, making Claire feel like she’d been transported to Tudor Britain. There’s something about arriving by steam train – even a toy one –that makes it feel as if we’ve travelled back in time. She remembered a book she’d read once, about a time travelling woman who found herself stranded amidst the bubonic plague. Somehow this place feels closer to the time of the Black Death than Eyam.

  Their reason for coming to the Shrine echoed in her mind. I don’t want to think about death, not when Sky is here to pray for her Mummy. She turned her face to the sun and let its promise of summer days warm through the chill in her bones.

  Peace descended like a blanket of mist as they meandered through the grounds of the Shrine. Trees and shrubs showed off their spring colours; bright greens mingled with the pink and white of early blossom. Their footsteps slowed as even Sky lost the need to run and skip. Bird song filled the space between the trees. A few other visitors drifted past like grazing deer, and the courtyard of buildings blocked out the sounds of the village beyond the walls.

  Silence wrapped around them: not the absence of noise, but the absence of humanity’s intrusion. Tight knots began to unravel in Claire’s mind and a tension she had been previously unaware of flowed free like a river bursting its banks.