Two-Hundred Steps Home Volume Four Read online

  Sky remained quiet as she walked with Claire along the path leading to the main building. As if made obvious by its absence, Claire became aware that her world had become saturated with the little girl’s chatter. When I think how lonely I was when I first started this journey, and now I can’t wait to be alone with my own thoughts.

  The lack of constant questions and observations allowed Claire to hear her own inner voices. To begin with they clamoured to fill the space, as if Sky’s conversation had kept them mute for too long. With strong words from Claire, the garrulous voices fell silent.

  Time enough later for angst and self-doubt and plans for the future to be aired and discussed. Right now I’d like to enjoy my silence while it lasts, please.

  A new voice piped up with the last word. You do realise talking to the voices in your head like they’re a pack of unruly children might not be entirely normal? Schizophrenics are usually the only ones who acknowledge the different people in their heads. Claire shrugged away the unwelcome suggestion and turned her attention to her surroundings.

  Sky walked with her head high, holding the map they had been given of the complex. For once, Claire was happy to follow on behind and let her niece take charge. This is more her area than mine, if she’s a Believer.

  The girl led them unerringly to the Chapel where she wanted to light a candle for her mother. At least there isn’t a service on. I’m not sure I could sit through Mass. The irreverent thought floated into her mind before Claire could banish it. Come on Claire, hold on to the peace. Belief in a more meaningful existence than designer labels and Starbucks lattes wouldn’t do you any harm.

  Trying to be present in the moment, rather than trapped in her chattering mind, Claire looked around the chapel. It really was tranquil. Tall windows let in rainbow-hued sunshine, illuminating the details of the architecture. She felt eyes watching her and turned to see Sky standing by the rows of candles, a lit candle in her hand. Claire felt her heart lurch at the sight of Sky’s face, a mixture of grown-up seriousness and childish hope.

  Crossing the stone floor, Claire moved to her side and gave the girl’s shoulders a squeeze. After a tiny hesitation she also picked up a candle and lit it. Trying to think about Ruth was harder than stilling the voices in her head. Ruth who had been in her life longer than the voices; who had helped her, dressed her, tormented and teased her. Ruth who – whatever else she might be – was her only sister.

  How does it work, lighting a candle for someone? I can’t pray, I wouldn’t know where to start. She decided instead to fill her mind with all the positive pictures of Ruth she could find, focussing on everything that made her sister unique. With tears pricking her eyes she followed Sky’s lead and placed the candle on the stand. Then she reached for her hand and gripped it tightly.

  “Everything will be okay, Sky. It will.”

  She felt the hand squeeze hers in reply, as Sky remained staring at the flickering flames. Then, almost too quiet to hear, even in the heavy silence of the chapel, Sky’s voice whispered like the breath of a candle.

  “I miss my Mummy.”

  Claire felt the shudder through her hand as the little shoulders began to shake with sobs. Gathering her close, she led her niece to a seat. “It’s okay, darling. We’ll call her from the coffee shop. She’ll be missing you too.”

  Holding Sky tight, Claire looked over her shoulder at the image above the candles. If you’re listening, Mary, we could use your grace about now. Don’t let this little girl lose both her parents. You let her Daddy run off with a ballet teacher. It would be cruel to take her mother too. Have mercy.

  Goosebumps raised along her arms as a breeze swept through the room, setting the sea of flames dancing.

  ***

  TWENTY-SIX

  “Can we go to the beach today, Claire? Can we, can we, can we? Please?”

  Claire prised open sticky eyelids and looked at the girl jumping on the bed, her blonde hair lit from behind by the sun pouring through the window. For a moment Claire wondered if she was being visited by an angel, after her visit to the Shrine. You can’t convert me, I’m a non-believer. Go away.

  The jumping persisted and Claire groaned. It was worth a shot. Her body felt welded to the mattress, as if a nefarious doctor had sedated in her sleep. Oh. My. God. How can I be this tired? Even when I did those bloomin snow hikes I didn’t feel like this. Her brain present an image of Fi coming in to confess all after the Pennine Way walk. Alright, fair enough, I felt like I was dead then. But all I did yesterday was walk from the steam train to the Shrine and back. Not exactly strenuous.

  Flashes of the afternoon and evening came back as sleep retreated. Sky sobbing in fear that her mother was going to die, before falling asleep in Claire’s arms so she felt she couldn’t move. A rejuvenated Sky demanded games and entertainment until late in the evening. A stubborn and shouting Sky refusing to go to bed. Then a night time of screaming, as Sky’s daytime fears transformed into night-time terrors.

  Claire focussed her bleary eyes on the jack-in-the-box child still shaking the bed. Kids must be bullet proof. Sky seemed to realise the jumping wasn’t working and lay down next to Claire, snuggling in under the duvet.

  “Sheesh! Your feet are cold Sky.”

  “Sorry, Auntie Claire. Did you sleep well?”

  Claire opened her eyes fully and examined Sky’s face to see if there was any trace of irony or evil intent. Clear blue eyes gazed back, brimming with sincerity.

  “Don’t you remember having bad dreams, poppet?” Claire reached out and brushed the hair away from her face.

  Sky shook her head. “Sorry, Auntie Claire. Mummy says I often don’t actually wake up when I’ve having nightmares.” Her face fell and tears gathered in the rims of her eyes. Claire was about to offer more support about Ruth’s condition when Sky spoke. “Does that mean you’ll be too tired to take me to the beach today?”

  Claire laughed. Kids certainly live in the now. “We’ll go to the beach today, I promise. Let’s just get packed up and check out and we can ask at reception which is the best beach between here and Hunstanton. We can’t check in until later anyway and it looks like a nice day.”

  Sky jumped up, her face shining like a star. “I’m packed already. Shall I help you? What can I do?”

  Claire inhaled deeply and swallowed down the inexplicable urge to weep that swept over her.

  “Wow.” Sky ran along the boardwalk through the pine trees and stopped as if she’d hit glass. “Auntie Claire, look!” She turned and beckoned Claire forwards. “It goes on all the way to heaven.”

  Claire walked up to stand by her niece and took in the view, inhaling deeply the scent of salt and pine. Who knew there were endless sandy beaches on the East Coast? Why did we never come here as children? Probably we went to the South of France or were packed off to relatives. Funny that I don’t really remember having family holidays.

  The beach stretched endlessly to either side from where they stood, with sea directly ahead and blue sky above. It looked like a picture postcard. The only moving things between sand and sky were distant dog walkers and two galloping horses. It’s not really a family beach, I hope Sky doesn’t mind.

  The man at reception had provided a list of sandy beaches and they’d chosen one near the hostel so there would be no chance of missing out on the sun. Besides, when we’re cold and tired I’ll be able to coax Sky to Burnham Market for lunch. Claire remembered that much at least from British beaches. Even on a fine day the wind could be chilly and energy-sapping. She’d contemplated buying a wind-break at the shop where they had purchased Sky’s bucket and spade, but she’d talked herself out of it as sending the wrong message that they would stay all day on the beach.

  How am I going to occupy her here? No ice cream sellers, no rock pools and crabs and donkey rides. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. She felt a tug on her sleeve and turned her attention to Sky.

  “Come on, Auntie Claire, I want to make a sand castle.”
/>   It felt exposed down on the beach. The wind whirled past them as if it was in training for a long distance race and had no time to stop. Claire could see coloured shapes spinning in the sky and scrunched her eyes up to focus, wishing she’d bought her sunglasses. Sky followed her gaze. “What are they?”

  “Kites. Big ones, by the looks of it.” She followed the lines down from the dancing shapes and saw leaping and dancing on bottom end too. “Kite surfers. Brrr, rather them than me. I bet that water’s freezing.”

  Claire continued to watch the twirling of the boards and kites, as Sky ran onto the sand and began digging. Something about the freedom of the movement pulled at her. I wonder if they do lessons? That might be a fun challenge. Then she looked at the bent head of her niece, furiously filling her bucket. Oh yes. I forgot. Not until after school starts again, unless they offer babysitting too. Poor Ruth, no wonder she has no life. It’s like having a permanent chaperone. I wonder if they’d let a six-year-old try it? Might be a bit dangerous for a child I guess.

  She filed the thought away for later, and went to sit on the sand next to Sky.

  ***

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  “Sky, it’s time to go and get lunch sweetheart. Besides, I don’t have sun-cream and you’re so fair. I don’t want you getting burnt, it’ll make your mummy cross.”

  Sky looked up from the sandcastle moat and frowned. The castle was impressive, with at least a dozen towers, all surrounded by a deep furrow which Sky had tried to fill with water. The sea was too far away to begin with but now it seemed to be coming in fast.

  Claire watched the waves lapping near to where they sat. “Besides, the tide is coming in.”

  The bottom lip began to stick out and Claire braced herself for the tantrum that was about to erupt. She held up a placating hand and was about to launch into a flood of words to push back the torrent of tears when a siren ripped through the silence of the beach. Claire fell back onto the sand and Sky clapped her hands to her ears.

  “What the bloody hell is that?” Claire looked around but couldn’t see anything to explain the noise. She swore some more, thankful that Sky’s ears were covered.

  “Tis the tide alarm,” a voice called out from behind them. Claire turned to see a woman with several children in tow heading up towards the pine trees.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Did ye nah see the signs in the car park? The tide comes in reet quick an if ya nah careful ya can get cut oof.”

  Claire tried to decipher what the lady was saying. Her accent was heavy and northern; Claire couldn’t decide if it was Geordie or Scottish, although she knew better than to admit that to the woman. She gathered the alarm was to warn them of the incoming tide.

  “Oh, okay, thank you.” She nodded at the woman and turned back to Sky, who had taken her hands away from her ears. “Time to go.”

  When the bottom lip threatened to wobble, Claire shrugged and gestured at the other families leaving the beach. “It’s not up to me. I don’t want to have to swim back to the car.” Sky laughed and looked as if she thought that would be fun.

  Searching her mind for ways to coax her niece back to the car, Claire remembered a place near the next hostel that she’d seen on the internet. “Would you like to go and see some animals?”

  “What kind of animals?” Sky wasn’t budging but couldn’t hide the interest on her face.

  “Um, wallabies? Alpacas?” She couldn’t remember what else. “Er, goats?”

  Sky’s face lit up. “I like goats. We feed the goats at the Farm. Okay.” Standing up, she collected her bucket and spade, brushed the sand off her skirt, and headed up the beach. Claire watched her departure for a few moments, taken aback by the sudden change of speed. Sky turned as she reached the line of trees. “Aren’t you coming Auntie Claire? Race you back to the car!” And with that she disappeared.

  “Aw, look at the wallabies, they’re so cute. Have you ever been to Australia, Auntie Claire? I want to go but Mummy says it’s too far.”

  Claire’s brain ached with answering endless questions. I hoped coming here and feeding the animals might distract her for a bit. Wrong. With a sigh she tried to focus on the question. It raised unwanted memories of Josh and Fiona, who were possibly on a plane back to Australia at that very moment. “No I haven’t, although I’d like to go, some day.”

  “Where have you been? Mummy says you’re always jetting off on holiday.”

  Thank you, Ruth, for that gem. Claire thought about it and realised she hadn’t been anywhere Sky would have heard of or care about. I don’t think beach holidays in luxury resorts are what she means. She’d never had the travel bug before. Holidays were for relaxation and tanning opportunities. She decided it was time to change the subject.

  “Look at that sheep’s horns, Sky, they’re all twisty.” She held her breath for a moment, convinced that such a ploy would never get past Sky’s knife-sharp mind. Her niece turned to observe the screw-horned sheep, then span to face Claire.

  “Wow! He looks like he has helter-skelter’s coming out of his head!”

  Claire exhaled.

  ***

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Claire smothered a yawn and rubbed her hand across her eyes. She stared around blankly, trying to occupy her mind while Sky knelt to feed the goats. Twenty paces away, a man stood watching her. She felt a quiver of recognition, although she couldn’t imagine how anyone she knew would turn up at a rare breeds centre in Norfolk. Probably an old colleague; they do seem to appear in the most random places.

  Her eyes felt heavy and her caffeine content was well below safe levels. Crouching down next to her niece, she tried to frame words in her head that might entice her back to the car without a tantrum.

  “Would you like to buy an ice cream before we go to the hostel?” She waited, lungs full of in-held breath, while her words seeped into Sky’s consciousness. Never mind marketing, I think a career in diplomacy will be a possibility when this fortnight is over.

  After what felt like an hour, Sky smiled and stood up. “Can I have one with a flake, Auntie Claire?”

  Exhaling loudly, Claire pulled herself to her feet and reached for Sky’s hand. “Of course, darling, if they have any.”

  She turned to lead them to the exit, but Sky remained as if stuck in quicksand. Looking down Claire saw that her niece’s gaze was fixed on a point in the distance. She followed the direction and saw the same man still staring. A shiver trickled down her skin like icy water. With the awful inevitability of a car crash, Claire could see disaster playing out before her. She tugged on the tiny hand enclosed in hers. “Come on Sky, I’ll race you to the coffee shop.”

  The girl didn’t move, although the blood drained from her face until it was as pale as her hair.

  Bollocks. Claire didn’t want her suspicions confirmed, but her eyes dragged back to the staring man without her volition. Of all the shitty luck. What now?

  She felt Sky drop her hand and take a step forward. A breath of a voice whispered, “Daddy?” Then something seemed to break inside her, and she began to run. “Daddy!”

  Watching the little girl racing across the grass, hair and dress flying out behind her, Claire felt tears building in the back of her throat. It was her turn to be frozen. She knew she should go after Sky – shield her from what might happen next – but she felt unable to move.

  Sky reached the man and held up her arms, demanding an embrace. Even across the distance Claire felt the hesitation and her chest ached in pain. It seemed to free her from immobility and she ran for Sky as if the girl was teetering at a cliff edge. She reached them just as the man dropped down and gave his daughter a quick hug. He looked up at Claire’s flustered arrival and some of the tension left his face.

  “It’s you. Couldn’t tell from a distance. Thought it couldn’t be Ruth. She wouldn’t be this far from home.”

  Claire looked round, expecting to see the ballet teacher lurking nearby. It seemed unlikely that a man would come by h
imself to such a place. Wherever she is, let her stay there. Another thought lurched unwelcome in Claire’s mind. Oh god, I offered Sky ballet lessons and talked all about ballet when we were in Cambridge. Stupid, inconsiderate, idiot. No wonder Ruth doesn’t want her to have ballet lessons, when her father ran off with her ballet teacher.

  Shaking away the thought as something she couldn’t fix now, Claire reached for Sky. Her father dropped his arms and stood up, his face showing relief.

  “How come you’ve got the girl then?”

  Claire tried to read the man’s expression. “Sky is staying with me for the Easter holidays.” She stopped, holding back the words Because her mother has a brain tumour and is having chemotherapy.

  An awkward silence spread between them like mist. Sky stood gazing in adoration at her father, and Claire wondered when she had last heard from or seen him. As if in answer, Sky spoke in a trembling voice. “I miss you, Daddy. Why don’t you ever call?”

  The man – Claire couldn’t even think his name without fury – looked down at his shoes and didn’t answer. Claire could see two red spots burning in his cheeks. He glanced around and behind him, as if searching for someone. His face softened, becoming younger, more gentle. Reaching down, he patted Sky gently on the head.

  “I have to go, poppet. Sorry.” He said nothing more, and strode away without looking back.

  Claire felt an icy pain spreading through her chest as she watched him leave. Chris. That’s his name. Stupid, fucking wanker, more like. It felt hard to breathe. Watching the departing figure reminded Claire of being dropped at school after the holidays, standing silent while her parents returned to their car. They had never looked back either.

  A loud sob brought Claire back to the present. Realising she had forgotten her niece in her own reaction; Claire dropped to her knees in the mud and gathered Sky into her lap. Like a dam breaking, the little girl crumbled and dissolved into a wave of tears. These weren’t the childish screams and dry sobs of a tantrum. With shaking shoulders and loud gasping gulps, Sky cried as if the world had ended.