Kitabı oku: «The Broken Man»
Copyright
Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins 2013
Copyright © Josephine Cox 2013
Josephine Cox asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9780007419913
Ebook Edition © October 2013 ISBN: 9780007419906
Version: 2017-05-22
Dedication
To my darling Ken, as always.
To the musical Murphy family in Ireland. Hope all is well with you. Much love, Jo x
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Part One
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Part Two
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Part Three
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Part Four
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Part Five
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Part Six
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Keep Reading
About the Author
Also by Josephine Cox
About the Publisher
PART ONE
Bedfordshire, February
CHAPTER ONE
THERE WAS SOMETHING disturbing about young Adam.
Deep inside, he carried a secret that he could never tell anyone.
Phil knew, though, because he recognised that certain look: the slump of the shoulders; the sad eyes that gave little away.
Having fought for king and country, Phil knew what it was like to carry a secret. Over the years he had learned to live with the vivid memory of terrible scenes he had witnessed.
He could banter with old companions, but the loneliness of guarding his secret was often unbearable.
Though his life was not empty, he ached for the company of a very special person, the one lovely woman he had loved with every fibre of his being. The only woman who was able to bring sunshine into his life, even on a rainy day.
He kept himself busy helping his neighbours and occasionally meeting up with locals down at the pub. He earned his living by driving the school bus, and when the working day was over, he would go home to an empty house, make his tea and, afterwards, sit in his chair and light up his faithful old pipe. Before it got dark, he would take a leisurely stroll through the countryside, his little mongrel dog, Rex, tripping along beside him.
Phil appreciated his few simple pleasures, though he would have given everything to turn the clock back to a time when he was younger and fitter, and fortunate enough to have a loving wife.
Now, though, he would make his way home as always, and except for the faithful little dog who was never far from his side, the house would be empty.
Now at night, he went up to his bed; alone. At first light he woke up; alone. He had no one special to laugh or cry with, no one to slide his arm around when he felt loving. And there was no one close with whom to share any titbits of gossip or maybe a smile at the occasional naughty tricks the schoolchildren got up to on the bus.
There was no one to chastise him when he left the tap running, or when he casually threw his worn shirt on the bedroom floor. It was a hard truth that after many happy years married to a wonderful woman, he was now a man on his own, with only memories and his dog for company.
The loneliness weighed heaviest on him in the evenings. He longed for things once familiar, like making a pot of tea for two, and sharing it over a cheery fire, or maybe cutting fresh flowers from his little garden, and seeing his wife’s pretty smile as he handed them to her.
Those precious times had been dearly missed these past four years, since his beloved wife lost her fight against a long illness.
Phil’s thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a flicker of movement reflected in the driver’s mirror. Glancing up, he saw his last passenger, young Adam Carter, climbing out of his seat to make his way down the bus. He was far too quiet and serious for his age. There were times when Phil had caught the boy so deep in thought he was oblivious to the other children around him and he had no particular friend with whom he always sat. In Adam, Phil saw a troubled, frightened boy.
‘We’re nearly there, son!’ he called encouragingly.
Phil manoeuvred the vehicle over to the verge, where he parked, applied the handbrake, and prepared to let the boy off.
‘Right then, Adam, here you are, home safe and well.’
‘Thank you, Mr Wallis, I’ll be all right now.’
‘The name’s Phil …’ he kindly corrected the child. ‘Everyone calls me Phil.’
‘But my father says it’s rude to address your elders by their first name.’
‘Mebbe, but not if they offer you the privilege … which I am very glad to be doing right now. Only if you feel comfortable with it, mind.’
Adam grew restless. ‘I’d really like to call you Phil,’ he admitted, ‘but my father would be angry with me.’
Phil gave a cheeky wink. ‘Well, that’s easily settled. I won’t tell him if you don’t.’
Adam gave it a little thought, then with a wide smile said, ‘OK. I won’t tell him either.’
‘Good! That’s settled then.’ Phil climbed out of the driving seat. ‘Seeing as I need to stretch my legs and it’s such a beautiful afternoon, I’ll walk you down the lane to your front door. That’s if you think your father wouldn’t mind.’
Adam shook his head. ‘He won’t mind. Thank you, Phil.’
Phil laughed out loud. ‘There you are. It wasn’t too difficult to say my name, was it?’
He felt as though, at long last, this lonely boy was beginning to trust him. He hoped the day might come when the child would trust him enough to confide in him.
He now took a sideways glance at young Adam.
At seven years of age, Adam Carter was quietly spoken. With serious brown eyes, and thick dark hair that tumbled over his forehead, he cut a handsome young figure. Not naturally outgoing, he hardly ever laughed out loud, and smiled only on rare occasions. Yet when he did smile it was such a warm, genuine smile, it could light up a room.
Phil had noticed how Adam’s nervousness increased the nearer he got to home. Unlike the other children, who could never get off the bus fast enough, Adam hung back, waiting until the very last minute, almost as though he was reluctant to leave the safety of the bus.
‘Right then, son, that’s another week over. You go on; I need to secure the bus, especially after that young squirrel got inside and wreaked havoc.’
Adam went down the steps. On the last step he gave a short jump to the ground, his satchel catching on the handrail as he did so.
‘All right, are you?’ Phil released his satchel.
‘Yes, thank you, Phil.’
After following Adam down the bus steps, Phil secured the door behind him.
‘I expect you’re glad to be home, eh?’
Except for a curt nod of the head, Adam gave no reply, but he wanted to tell this gentle, kind man that no, he was not all right; that he was not glad to be home. He wanted to confess that he was afraid and unhappy, and that he often dreamed of running away. But he would never do that, because it might be dangerous for someone he loved dearly. So he kept his silence and went on pretending. Even now, as they approached the house, his heart was thumping. Was his father home yet? Had his day been good? Because if not … oh … if not … Quickly, he thrust the bad thoughts from his mind.
Man and boy went down the lane side by side.
‘By! This is a real treat.’ Phil sniffed the air. ‘This time o’ day, the pine trees give off a wonderful scent.’
Adam agreed. ‘Mum says it’s even stronger in the summer. She says when the trees begin to sweat, they create a thick vapour over the woods, and you can almost taste it.’
Phil loved the lazy manner in which the worn path wound in and out of the ancient woodlands, skirting magnificent trees that had been there far longer than he had.
‘You live in a really pretty part of the countryside,’ he told Adam. ‘And now you’ve got the whole weekend before you, so what might you be up to, eh?’ He chuckled. ‘By! I wish I were a lad again … climbing trees and apple-scrumping. The things we used to get up to, you would not believe.’ He gave a great sigh. ‘It’s all a lifetime ago now. Mind you, I’d never be able to climb a tree these days, not with my gammy leg.’ His pronounced limp was a painful trophy from the war.
‘I’m not allowed to climb trees.’ Adam’s voice softened with regret. ‘My father doesn’t approve of it.’
‘Well, I never!’ Phil was dumbfounded. ‘Climbing trees is what boys do. It’s a natural part of growing up, like fishing, and football.’ He gave a wistful smile. ‘And who could ever forget the first time he kissed a girl?’ He rolled his eyes and made the boy smile shyly; he still had that pleasure to come.
‘I know it’s not my place to ask,’ Phil went on in a more serious tone, ‘but, what’s your dad got against you climbing trees?’
Adam shrugged. ‘He says it’s undignified.’
‘I see.’ In fact, he didn’t see at all.
Deep in conversation, they were startled and delighted when a deer shot across their path. A few steps on, and Phil resumed their conversation.
‘Do you know what I’d do, if ever I had loads of money?’
‘No.’
‘I don’t expect I ever will have loads of money, but if I did, I’d build myself the prettiest little cottage right in the middle of these ’ere woods. And I’d be sure to make friends with every animal that lived here.’
Adam laughed. ‘You’d be like the old man in the story.’
‘Oh, and what story is that?’
‘It’s a mystery I once read, about a man who lived in an old shed in the woods. He cut his own logs for the fire, and everything he ate came out of the woods. Sometimes he would even sleep in the forest with the animals, and they never once hurt him.’
‘Ah, well, there you go, then. He sounds like a man after my own heart. So, how long did he live like that?’
‘A long time … years! Then one day he just disappeared, and was never seen again.’
‘Hmmph!’ Stooping to collect a fallen branch, Phil threw it into the verge. ‘So nobody knows what happened to him, eh?’
‘No. The story tells how one day he was seen collecting mushrooms; then he was never seen again. Some of the villagers were worried he might be ill, so they went to check the shed where he lived, but though the old man was gone, all his belongings were still there.’
‘Sounds too spooky for me.’ Phil was intrigued. ‘But what do you think happened to him?’
‘Well … I think maybe he got really sick and he knew he wouldn’t get better, so he crept away where no one would ever find him. Just like the Indians of old used to do.’
Phil thought about that. ‘Well, if that’s the case, he’s a very lucky man. Not many people get to choose how they live their lives, and then decide where to end them.’
There followed a short silence as they each dwelled on the fate of the mystery man.
‘Phil?’ The boy softly broke the silence.
‘Yes, son?’
‘I don’t think I’ll ever be able to choose what I want to do with my life.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Because my father has my future all planned out.’
‘Has he now?’ Phil prompted him. ‘And you think that’s a bad thing, do you?’
‘He says I’m his only son and that he’s decided there will be no more children,’ Adam explained. ‘So it’s my duty to follow in his footsteps.’
‘No more children, eh?’
‘That’s what he said.’
‘And are you sure you don’t want to follow in his footsteps?’
‘Yes, I’m sure, but when I try and tell him, he gets really angry.’
He was careful not to reveal how his father often took a belt to him; that one time he split the skin on his back and forbade his mother to take him to hospital.
‘Have you spoken to your mother about not wanting to follow in your dad’s footsteps?’
‘Yes, but Mum said it’s best if I do what Father says.’ He paused before confiding in a quieter voice, ‘Sometimes if I disobey him, he takes it out on her. That’s cowardly, isn’t it, Phil?’
‘I’m sorry, son, but without knowing all the circumstances, it would not be right for me to comment on that,’ Phil apologised, although his mental picture of the boy’s father was now deeply unsettling.
Thinking it might be wise to change the subject, he asked, ‘So if you’re not allowed to climb trees, what do you do when you’re out with your mates?’
‘I don’t have any mates.’
‘Oh? And why’s that then?’
‘Father says I must not waste my time. He says that if I’ve got any spare time after school, I must use it for doing extra studies, because I’ll never make anything of myself if I don’t study.’
He cast his gaze to the floor. ‘Can I tell you something, Phil?’
‘Course you can, son.’
‘I don’t like him very much. He makes me study all the time, and I’m never allowed to do anything else. I would like to have close mates that I could bring home and play with. But Father keeps me too busy for that.’
‘I’m sure your father thinks it’s all for your own good.’
‘I know, but he asks too much of me, and he has such a terrible temper, and if I get the questions wrong, he makes me do them all over again. Sometimes it’s midnight and he still won’t let me go. Mum argues with him and then … he … he …’ his voice tailed off to a whisper. ‘Sometimes, I really hate him.’
Saddened by what Adam had told him, Phil made him a promise. ‘Always remember, son, if ever you feel the need to talk, I’ll be here for you.’ Not being witness to what happened in that house, Phil believed it was wrong of him to criticise. Instead, he quietly reassured the boy, ‘I expect he has your interests at heart, but you obviously believe he’s going about it the wrong way, so all you can do is to keep explaining how you feel.’
‘I’ve made up my mind, I don’t ever want to be like him!’ A dark look crossed his face.
‘Well, I’m sure that’s your choice, Adam, but your father has made a success of his own life and, from what you tell me, it seems he wants the same for you.’
‘I know that.’ Looking ahead towards the house, the boy grew agitated. ‘But he’s not a good man. Sometimes he’s really nasty. He doesn’t laugh, and when he gets angry he shouts and screams. Mum tells me not to rile him, or he might …’
‘Might what?’ Phil could see the child was getting agitated. ‘Apart from the shouting and wanting you to work harder, is there something else that’s worrying you, son?’
‘NO! No, there’s nothing else.’ Fearing he might have said too much already, Adam finished lamely, ‘Me and Mum, we just do what he tells us, and then everything is fine.’
‘Well, just remember what I said, Adam. If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here.’ Phil brought the subject to an end: ‘I’ve an idea that you and your father will work it out, eventually.’ Even so, he was genuinely concerned by what the boy had told him.
‘Can I ask you something?’ Adam said after a few moments’ silence.
‘Of course you can!’ Chuckling, Phil lightened the mood. ‘Unless you’re after borrowing a shilling or two, because you know what they say: “Never a borrower nor a lender be”, and that’s the rule I live by.’
When he saw Adam’s face fall, he laughed out loud. ‘Take no notice of me,’ he said, ‘I’m just teasing. So, what is it you want to ask?’
Casting a wary glance along the lane, Adam quietly confided, ‘Could you please not tell anybody what I’ve said, about my father?’ Again, he nervously glanced down the lane towards his house.
‘Don’t worry, son. I’ve never been a gossip, and I can assure you that what’s been said here today will not go any further. All right?’
‘Thank you, Phil. Maybe you’re right. My father doesn’t mean to be like he is. It’s only because he works such long hours and he has such a responsible job, he just gets on edge sometimes.’
‘I understand that, son, but if you don’t mind me saying, what suits one man doesn’t always suit another. A man should be able to choose his own path. But you’re not yet a man, and maybe your father is looking out for your future. D’you understand what I’m saying?’
‘Yes, but I don’t want to be bad-tempered and angry like my father. I want to do something that makes me happy.’ Growing increasingly nervous, Adam dropped his voice to a whisper. ‘Already my father is training me into his kind of work.’
‘How d’you mean?’
‘Well, nearly every night he brings home a pile of paperwork and makes me go through it with him. It’s all calculations of stocks and shares and money transactions. I don’t understand any of it, not really, but sometimes he keeps me at his desk for ages, making me do tests and stuff. He says he’s proud for me to follow in his footsteps. He wants me to learn all about high finance and dealing and stuff. And I hate it!’
Phil understood the boy’s concern. ‘Do you ever get any time to yourself?’
Adam’s face lit up. ‘Only when Father comes home really late, or stays in London overnight on business. That’s when Mum and I have the best time of all, doing the things Father disapproves of. We play card games. Mum keeps the cards in a special hiding place. And sometimes we play loud music on the radio and Mum shows me how to tango and rumba and all that.’
His face broke into a proud smile. ‘She was a champion ballroom dancer once. She won all sorts of trophies and she’s got photographs of her in these beautiful gowns. She said Father asked her to give it all up when they got married, so she gave her dresses away and never danced again. She kept all her photographs and trophies, but Father locked them away. She knows where the key is, though, and when he’s not here, she gets them all out.’
Growing afraid in case anyone was listening, he lowered his voice again. ‘He doesn’t know that Mum searched everywhere for the key. She found it under the carpet in their bedroom. When he’s not here, she sets all her trophies out on the sideboard, and then she teaches me to dance. Oh, Phil, she looks so beautiful. It’s not fair. Why would Father lock away all her precious things like that?’
Phil was shocked. ‘I’m sure I have no idea, son.’
Feeling decidedly uncomfortable, Phil led the conversation in a slightly different direction: ‘So, would your mum ever want to dance in public again, do you think?’
Adam nodded. ‘Oh, yes! She says she’s still young enough to take it up again. She even mentioned it to Father, but he said if she ever spoke of it again he would have to destroy everything, so she couldn’t ever be tempted. I don’t think she will ever dance again, though.’ Glancing up at Phil, he smiled. ‘Not in public, anyway.’
Phil was beginning to see a much wider picture of this family, and it was not good. ‘Mmm, well, all I can say is, it’s a pity your father has to work such long hours. But it’s good that you and your mum get to spend that time together, isn’t it?’
Adam nodded. ‘It’s really nice when Father isn’t there. Sometimes, me and Mum go across the fields for miles and miles. We stay out for ages. Then on the way back, we get fish and chips, and sit on a park bench to eat them. That way we don’t make the house smell, because then Father would know what we’ve been up to.’ Breathless and excited, he went on, ‘Oh, and sometimes we go to the pictures.’ His face lit up. ‘Last Saturday we went to see a cowboy film.’
Allowing the boy to chatter on excitedly, Phil instinctively eased him round a muddy puddle.
‘Do you have a pet? A little dog, mebbe?’
‘No. One time, Mum bought me a tabby cat, but it got run over. His name was Thomas and I really loved him. I taught him to do little tricks and he followed me everywhere, though Father would chase him out if he went into the house.’
Phil chuckled. ‘I had a cat like that once. Up to everything, he was.’
‘Thomas was the cleverest cat I ever knew,’ Adam confided proudly. ‘I cried a lot when he was run over. Father said I was a big baby and I should be ashamed of myself. And now I’m not allowed to have a pet ever again.’
‘He got run over, you say?’ That surprised Phil because, in his experience, most cats would head for the woods rather than risk going over a main road. ‘That’s a real shame. How did you find out?’
‘Father told us that he found Thomas in the woods, and that he was hurt so bad that he died, so he buried him where he found him. I wanted to go and say goodbye, but Father wouldn’t tell me where he was. He said that way I would get over him much quicker.’
‘Oh dear, that’s really sad. I’m so sorry.’ Having learned a good deal about Adam’s bullying father, Phil could not help but wonder about the cat’s demise.
He had an idea. ‘Look, Adam, being as it’s such a lovely afternoon, I’ll be taking my little dog for a walk through these lanes before it gets dark. You could ask your parents if you can tag along. What d’you say to that, eh?’
Adam shook his head. ‘I’m not allowed.’
‘Oh, but it doesn’t hurt to ask, does it? You never know. My old dad used to say, “If you don’t ask, you don’t get.”’
Adam shook his head. ‘Father won’t let me, but thank you anyway, Phil.’
‘Ah, well, never mind, eh? Mebbe another time.’
‘Yes, I would really like that.’
A few moments later they arrived at the house: a fine Victorian dwelling with tall chimneys, large windows and a sweeping drive. Set in beautifully landscaped grounds, it made an impressive sight. ‘I’ll be fine now, Phil, thank you.’
‘All right, son. I’ll just watch you go inside the gate, then I’ll make my way home.’ Reassured by the lit forecourt and drive, he waited for the boy to close the gate behind him.
‘Oh, look! Father’s home.’ Adam pointed to the big Austin saloon parked in the garage entrance. His face fell visibly as he prepared to go in.
In that same moment a man who had to be Adam’s father burst from the house. Lingering a moment in the shade of the porch, he appeared surprised to see the two of them at the gate.
‘Afternoon, Mr Carter.’ Phil raised his hand in greeting, but the other man gave no response as he scurried to his car.
Leaning closer, Adam confided in a whisper, ‘I’m glad he’s going out, because now I’ll be able to spend time with Mum, instead of being made to work in the office with Father.’
Phil understood, but thought it best not to stir up trouble. In his experience family problems usually sorted themselves out. ‘Right, well, I reckon I’d best be on my way.’
‘’Bye, then, and thank you.’ Adam went towards the house, while Phil turned and trudged back down the lane, deep in thought.
He had gone only a short distance when he heard angry yelling.
‘You’ll do as I say, or you’ll feel the length of my belt! Get out of my way, damn you!’
A minute later, Phil heard the sound of a car door being slammed, then the revving of an engine.
Phil thought if that was the father shouting, it was no wonder the boy had little love or respect for him.
Deep in thought, he pushed on down the lane. Suddenly a car skidded past him at break-neck speed, the wheels sending a thick spray of mud all over Phil’s trouser-leg. ‘BLOODY LUNATIC! TRYING TO KILL ME, ARE YOU?’ Shaking his fist as the car bounced out of the lane and onto the main road, he recognised the big Austin belonging to Adam’s father. ‘Bloody madman!’ Phil yelled, brushing the mud from his trousers as he grumbled. ‘You want locking up. You’ve not heard the last of this, I can tell you.’
About to continue on his way, he thought he heard a cry from somewhere behind him. Then he heard it again; this time closer. It was Adam. Running towards Phil, the boy was clearly distressed, ‘Phil … help me!’
When he fell over, he made no attempt to scramble up. Instead, he remained where he fell, calling out, ‘Come back! I need you, Phil … please.’
Slipping and stumbling on the uneven ground, Phil hurried back to him. By then, Adam was crumpled on the ground, frantically rocking back and forth, his two arms crossed over his head as though defending himself.
Shocked, Phil lifted him from the ground and held him close. ‘What is it, son? What’s happened?’ It was clear that something terrible must have happened.
‘We need you … please, Phil.’ Trembling in the man’s arms, the boy glanced about furtively, his eyes big with fear as he looked back towards the house. ‘Phil, you have to come and see.’ He lowered his voice to a confiding whisper. ‘It was him, I know it was. It was him, Phil. I hate him, I hate him!’
‘Ssh … take a deep breath, son. Tell me what’s happened.’
‘I don’t know! You have to help me, Phil … please!’
‘All right, son. Take it easy now. You and me, we’ll go back together.’ He knew it must be something bad to have affected the boy like this, but now was not the time for questions.
As they hurried back to the house, Adam kept asking over and over, ‘He won’t come back, will he? I don’t want him to come back. Please, Phil, don’t let him come back.’
Quickening his steps as best he could, Phil drew him close, constantly reassuring him, though he had no idea of what might have happened.
In the deepening hours of a February afternoon, he took quiet stock of the boy. At first he suspected his father had given him a beating, but the boy appeared to carry no visible cuts or bloodstains. He was thankful for that much, at least.
As they neared the house, Phil tightened his hold on Adam, while continuing to reassure him.
Clinging to Phil, young Adam seemed not to be listening. Instead, he shivered uncontrollably, while constantly glancing back to the main road.
At the gate, Adam drew back, his whole body resisting as Phil tried to move him gently forward.
Then in a sudden burst that took Phil by surprise, he broke away to run up the drive.
Phil quickly followed, then at the porch he hesitated. It went against his principles to enter another man’s property without invitation, especially when that man was hostile. His concerns about the boy, however, urged him on.
A moment or so later, on entering the inner hallway, Phil was faced with a scene so shocking, he could never in a million years have prepared himself for it.
Adam was at the foot of the stairs screaming, ‘She’s dead, isn’t she?’ his school shirt covered in blood. He ran back to Phil. ‘Look what he’s done, oh, Phil … look what he’s done.’ The boy’s cries were heart-wrenching.
Deeply shaken, Phil crossed to the foot of the stairs and kneeled to examine the woman. He recognised her as Peggy Carter, Adam’s mother, and like the boy, he believed she was past all earthly help.
Lying in a pool of blood, she was covered in angry red bruises. Her eyes were closed and there seemed no immediate signs of life. Her body was grotesquely twisted, with both legs buckled. Her two arms looked as though they were wrenched out of their sockets. The right arm was loosely stretched out, while the other hung through the gap in the banister as though she had tried to use the banister railings to break her fall. Phil was of the opinion that she lost her footing as she tumbled down the stairs and had made a brave but unsuccessful attempt to save herself from serious injury.
‘Adam! Phone for an ambulance.’ There was no time to waste. ‘Go on, son! Hurry!’ He reminded him of the emergency number. ‘Tell them there’s been a terrible accident, and that your mother is unconscious. Tell them they must come at once!’
As the boy ran to do as he was bid, Phil called after him, ‘Don’t forget to give them the address. Hurry, Adam! Hurry!’
CHAPTER TWO
WHILE ADAM RAN down the lane to the public phone box on the main road, Phil attended to the injured woman. Taking off his coat, he carefully draped it over her. He then leaned closer to detect signs of breathing, but all he could hear was a deep, rattling sound that sent a shiver of fear through him. He knew he had to keep her warm and talk to her. Feeling more helpless than at any other time in his life, he mumbled, ‘Oh, dear God, be merciful, for it’s Your help she needs now.’
Not knowing whether she could hear him, he leaned closer, his tone reassuring. ‘Mrs Carter, I want you to try and concentrate on my voice. I need you to keep listening to me.’ He tenderly laid his hand over hers. ‘My name is Phil. I’m the driver of the school bus. Adam’s all right, but he’s anxious about you. But don’t worry, I’ll look after him. He’ll be safe enough with me. You just keep listening to my voice. Try and concentrate on what I’m saying, if you can.’
When he felt her hand twitch beneath his, he took it as a sign that he was getting through to her. ‘Mrs Carter, listen to me … the ambulance has been called. They’re on their way. It seems you fell down the stairs. You’ve been hurt bad, but they’ll look after you. Don’t try to move; it’s best if you keep as still as possible.’ Though, in her sorry condition, he doubted whether she could move even if she tried.
At that moment, Adam came running back. ‘They’ll be here quick as they can. They said we’re to keep talking to her, and not to move her.’
Falling to his knees, he tenderly stroked his mother’s hair. ‘How did it happen, Mum? Can you hear me? Mum! Was it him who did this to you? Did he lose his temper again? Please, Mum, tell me what happened?’
Phil eased him away. ‘No, son. That’s not the way. For now, your mother needs gentle, encouraging words. I’m sure there’ll be time for questions later.’
Adam understood. ‘I’m sorry. She won’t tell, but I will. If they ask me, I’ll tell them how cruel he is.’
Crouching on the carpet, he kept his anxious gaze on his mother’s distorted face.
‘The ambulance should be here soon, Mum,’ he reassured her. ‘They said we had to keep talking to you. Me and Phil … we want you to listen, Mum. We want you to be all right, because if you aren’t all right I won’t know what to do. Please, Mum, try your very hardest. Just like you tell me to do, when I find my homework too difficult.’
Choking back his tears, he cast a forlorn look at Phil. ‘She will be all right, won’t she, Phil?’
‘We have to hope so, son.’ Realising that Peggy Carter’s life hung in the balance, Phil softly measured his words. ‘You can see for yourself. Your mother is badly hurt and there’s no use pretending otherwise, but she’s alive, and we need to be thankful for that. So, keep talking to her. If she can hear you, I’m sure she’ll do her utmost to stay with you.’
For the next few precious minutes, Adam continued to talk to his mother, about school, and how his day had been, but all the while his heart was heavy with fear for his mother and loathing of his father. He recalled the many times when he himself had been thrashed; for no other reason than he had missed a question in his homework, or his father demanded more of him than he could give, which was more often than not.
Other times, when he was in the study, struggling over the homework his father had set, he would hear his parents loudly arguing in the parlour. Often the arguments were followed by the swish of his father’s horse-whip, then his mother crying out in pain.
Minutes later his father, red-faced with anger, would storm out of the house. When Adam ran to his mother, she would quickly dry her eyes and reassure him that everything was all right, but it was not all right, and they both knew it.
In spite of her efforts to hide the bruises, Adam knew the truth. His father was a bully and a coward. This time, though, he had hurt her really badly, although she would not tell on him. She never did.
In that raw moment, Adam made himself a promise: that when he was old enough, and however long it took him, he would make his father pay.
Seeing her like this was all too much. ‘You won’t admit it, but I know he did this to you.’ His voice trembled. ‘One day, when I’m bigger, I’ll punish him, I will. You’ll see … I’ll make him pay for everything!’ He tried not to cry, but the sobs took hold of him and he couldn’t stop. ‘I hate him! I hate him!’
Deep inside, Peggy heard Adam’s angry words, and she feared for her child. Everything he said was true, but she could not let him be destroyed by the hatred he felt for his father.
With immense effort, and mustering every ounce of strength left in her, she whispered, ‘No …’ Her eyes flickered open to gaze on him lovingly. ‘Don’t … say that.’ Having made this huge effort she was now struggling to breathe.
Seeing this, Adam reluctantly gave his promise. ‘All right … ssh, Mum. Stay still. I won’t say it any more. I’m sorry, Mum.’ Ever so gently, he wrapped his arms round her neck and when she shivered, he backed away, sorry that he might have hurt her, and sorry he had worried her by the things he’d said.
Suddenly the high-pitched wailing of sirens filled the air.
‘They’re here!’ Phil scrambled to his feet to go to meet the ambulance crew. ‘Stay with her, son. Keep talking to her, but no questions. Just tell her the ambulance has arrived. Tell her she’ll be in good hands now.’
Adam tried his hardest to be brave. He was grateful that his mother would get help, yet he was terrified she might be crippled or made to stay a long time in hospital. She would be unhappy about that, because her greatest joy was walking the countryside, just the two of them together.
‘Move away, son,’ Phil urged him, as the ambulance men hurried in.
Adam backed away as they brought the stretcher forward. ‘I love you, Mum,’ he whispered. The tears made a bright trail down his face. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry, Mum. I’m truly sorry …’
But he was not sorry about the promise he had made, to make his father pay for what he had done. When he was big enough, he would go after him, and when he found him, he would make sure to punish him.
No, he was not sorry for any of that. The only thing he was sorry for just now was having made this vow out loud, and making his mother anxious.
From the back of the stairway, he watched as they treated his mother to ease her pain. He saw them cut into the rungs of the stairway and tenderly lift her clear, before securing her to the stretcher. Then they carried her to the ambulance where they raised the stretcher to slide her gently inside. In that moment, she made a feeble cry for her son.
He wanted to go to her, but he was too afraid. What if she was calling for him so she could tell him she would never see him again? What if she was in terrible pain and he couldn’t stop it? What if …? What if …? Hopelessly mixed up inside, and more frightened than he had ever been in his young life, he took to his heels and ran.
Panic-stricken, he hid behind the shrubbery, where he sobbed as though his heart would break. ‘Don’t die, Mum,’ he whispered brokenly. ‘Please, Mum … don’t leave me.’
Realising the boy’s fears, Phil found him and lovingly drew him away. ‘I know she called for you, son, but she’s delirious. There is nothing you nor I can do for her. She’s getting the best care. If you want to go in the ambulance with your mum, you’d best be quick.’
‘Will you come too?’
‘I’m surprised you feel the need to ask.’ Phil was already hurrying him to the ambulance, where the attendants had executed the necessary safety procedures and were about to leave.
Phil and Adam climbed inside, and then they were swiftly away; the ambulance tearing along the lane with the sirens at full scream.
These fine, experienced men had seen it all before. They had learned to deal with desperate situations in a professional manner.
This particular call-out, however, was deeply disturbing. As they were both family men with young children, they found the boy’s distress difficult to deal with. The disclosure that it was the child himself who had discovered his mother lying bloodied and broken on the stairway was shocking. Such a discovery could prove to be the stuff of nightmares for years to come.
Another concern was their shared suspicions with regard to the ‘accident’ itself. In their considered experience, the woman’s extensive injuries did not appear to coincide with a tumble down the stairs.
For now though, getting her to hospital was their main priority.
Inside the ambulance, Adam sat quietly beside Phil, his attention riveted on his mum, and his eyes red and raw from crying. Every few minutes he would whisper to Phil, ‘She will be all right, won’t she?’ And Phil would pacify him as best he could, though secretly, he had his own doubts as to whether Peggy Carter could survive.
He wondered about Adam’s father, and the way he’d fled from the house like a guilty man. His instincts told him there was far more to Mrs Carter’s so-called accident than met the eye.
Throughout the journey, the medic remained by Peggy’s side, softly reassuring and constantly tending her while she drifted in and out of consciousness. Not once did he glance across to the two anxious figures seated on the small bench at the back of the ambulance. He had a job to do, and if there was the slightest hope that this patient might survive, then time was of the essence.
To Phil and Adam, the journey to the hospital seemed to have taken for ever, when in fact they were there in under an hour.
On arrival, the ambulance doors were thrown open and Phil and Adam scampered down onto the tarmac. The driver ran from his cab and climbed into the back, where the two men set about securing Peggy to the stretcher again. Phil and the boy waited anxiously, but it was only the briefest of moments before the two medics manhandled Peggy out of the ambulance. With one of them at each end of the stretcher and Peggy now deeply unconscious, they went at a run towards the hospital emergency doors where, having been forewarned, the medical staff were there to collect the patient and rush her straight to theatre.
While Peggy was hurried away, Adam and Phil were taken aside; though Adam tearfully insisted that he wanted to go with his mum. ‘Where is she?’ he wanted to know. ‘What have they done with my mum?’ Traumatised by the fear that he might never see her again, he called for her over and over.
The nurse gently assured him, ‘The doctors are helping your mother now. Don’t worry, she’s in safe hands, and they’ll come and tell you when you’re able to see her. Meantime, there is nothing you can do. She truly is being taken care of, so please … I know how hard it is, but you must try to be patient.’
She knew the boy might have a very long wait; especially since the message relayed from the ambulance crew to the hospital as they drove there had described the patient as having suffered life-threatening injuries.
‘Look, I’ll tell you what …’ She pointed to the little tuck cabin down the corridor. ‘If you go and see Mavis, she might let you have a bottle of pop. Tell her Nurse Riley sent you, then she won’t charge you a single penny for it.’
Phil understood her kindly motive. ‘That’s a good idea, Adam,’ he encouraged the boy. ‘In fact, I wouldn’t mind a bottle of pop myself.’
With sorry eyes, Adam glanced at the green baize door through which they had taken his mother. ‘All right then.’ Reluctantly, he gave a little nod. ‘But you have to promise you’ll wait here, Phil. You won’t leave me, will you?’
Phil choked back a tear. ‘Me? Leave you?’ He cradled the boy’s face in his hands. ‘I would never leave you, never in a million years!’ Digging into his trouser pocket he withdrew a shiny coin, which he handed to the boy. ‘There! You run off and see Mavis … there’s a good fellow.’
‘Your grandfather is right,’ Nurse Riley said. ‘Mavis will be pleased to see you.’
Phil and the boy exchanged curious glances at her reference to Phil as ‘your grandfather’, but wisely, neither of them made mention of her remark.
A short time later, when they had drunk their pop and were seated in comfortable chairs in a small room off the main corridor, the silence between them was heavy.
All they could think of was Adam’s mother, who lay just a short distance away, fighting for her life.
Every few minutes either Adam or Phil would go into the corridor and look to see if there was anyone they could speak to about how the boy’s mother was doing, but there was no one about, except a man in a long white coat, in a great hurry, and a nurse rushing about with a trolley, piled high with newly laundered linen.
‘They all have jobs to do,’ Phil reassured Adam. ‘I know you’re worried, but we have to be thankful that the doctors are looking after her. No doubt someone will come out soon and tell us what’s happening. Until then we’ll have to be patient.’
Adam was desperately concerned for his mother. He was also concerned about what might happen to him. He reasoned that she would have to stay in hospital for at least a short while. His mother told him long ago that she had been adopted, and that when she met his father, her adoptive parents took an instant dislike to him, and forbade her to see him.
There was a huge row. Having just turned eighteen, she defied them and married his father without their blessing. Shortly after that, her parents emigrated to Australia, and she eventually lost all contact with them.
That was all Adam knew of his grandparents on his mother’s side.
The only mention of his father’s parents was during a heated argument between his own mother and father. He had learned that his father’s older sister and both his parents were devoutly religious, while Adam’s own father grew increasingly rebellious against their rigid and highly disciplined way of life. There were constant rows until, in his early twenties, he cut himself adrift from his family.
Now he had no idea where they were, nor did he want to know, because as far as he was concened, they did not exist.
During the many rows with his own wife, he claimed that she was much like his own mother; that she was domineering and saw no worth in him. He argued that instead of being grateful for the good life he provided for them both, she and Adam took him for granted. During his wild, unpredictable rants, he said they were like strangers to him; that they darkened his life and gave him nothing, yet they continued to feed off him like parasites.
He also threatened Adam’s mother that if she ever mentioned his parents and sister again, she would be made to regret it. So, knowing from experience that he was more than capable of hurting her, Peggy wisely never again spoke of them.
Once, when Adam was caught eavesdropping outside the parlour, he was punished with the bunched knuckles of his father’s fist across his head ‘for hiding behind the door and listening in on a private conversation’, he was told.
Now, with his father gone, hopefully for ever, he felt able to speak out.
‘Phil?’
‘Yes, son?’
‘Can I tell you something?’
‘Of course.’
‘All right then.’ In a whisper, and with a wary eye on the door in case his father should suddenly burst in, Adam told Phil everything.
He described the awful rows and the things he had learned about his father’s family; that his father hated his sister and his parents, and had cut them out of his life. ‘He said they were wicked, spiteful people, and that they made his life a misery, and now I’m frightened they might come and take me away, to look after me until Mum’s better. But what if they never bring me back? I’m frightened, Phil. I don’t want them to come and get me.’
Phil took it all in and when Adam fell silent, looking up at him with fear in his eyes, he assured him, ‘If they’re as bad as all that, they’ll not be allowed to come for you.’
Adam then told Phil of his grandparents on his mother’s side. ‘Mum said her parents wanted her to go to Australia with them, but she didn’t want to, and so they fell out and she left home. Then a while ago, some old neighbour told Mum that they’d gone to Australia, but she didn’t know where, and Mum never heard from them again.’
‘I see.’ Phil nodded thoughtfully. ‘By! That’s a sorry situation and no mistake. So, it seems you’ve no close family other than your own parents, eh?’
Because Adam was already in pieces, Phil made no mention of his deep concern with regard to the boy’s care. In the light of what he had just learned, he feared there could be all manner of trouble ahead.
‘Phil?’ Adam grew concerned when the older man lapsed into deep thought. ‘Phil!’
Brought sharply out of his reverie, Phil put on a smile. ‘Sorry, son … I was just dwelling on what you said: no aunts nor uncles, nor family of any kind, except for your parents. By! It doesn’t bear thinking about.’ Fearing that Peggy Carter might not survive, he was deeply anxious for the boy’s welfare.
Adam voiced his own concerns. ‘If Mum has to stay in hospital for a long time, I don’t want to stay in the house all on my own, so will you please stay with me until Mum gets home?’
Taken aback by the request, Phil wisely avoided answering directly. ‘Aw, look, son. It’s not good to get ahead of yourself like that. Let’s just wait and see how things go, and then we’ll decide what’s best to do.’
Adam had another question: ‘If you don’t like to live in my house, can I come and stay with you then?’ Growing tearful, he finished lamely, ‘Please say yes, Phil, ’cause there’s nobody to look after me until Mum comes home.’
Phil glanced about nervously. ‘Ssh!’ He pressed his finger to his lips. ‘It’s best not to discuss these things just yet. Let’s leave it for now, son. Let’s wait and see what the doctor says, then you and me … we’ll sort summat out. Try not to worry, and the less you say just now, the better.’
‘All right, Phil, but if you stay with me at the house, I promise I’ll be good. I’ll do my homework, and if you want, you can fetch your little dog to stay with us.’
Phil’s heart went out to the boy. He knew the situation could never work, and besides, it wasn’t right – not for him and not for Adam. And yet he was made to ponder what alternative there might be.
‘Listen to me, son …’ Sidling closer to Adam, he spoke in a whisper. ‘It seems they think I’m your granddad, but you and I know that is not the case.’
‘We don’t need to tell them, though, do we, Phil? You can still pretend to be my granddad … until Mum comes home.’ His voice shook with emotion. ‘Please, Phil … please!’
Phil felt torn. ‘I’m sorry, son,’ he said, being sensible, ‘I don’t know as I can move into your father’s house. It would be wrong of me, and what if your father comes back? Like as not he’ll have me arrested, and who could blame him?’
‘All right! I’ll come to your house and stay with you.’
‘Aw, son … I don’t know.’ Phil was growing more unsettled by the minute. ‘It’s a bad situation. I don’t want to think on it right now, not until we see how it goes with your mother.’
‘This is all Father’s fault, isn’t it?’
‘I don’t know, son. I’m not altogether party to the facts.’ Wisely, Phil was reluctant to commit himself to such far-reaching accusations.
‘It’s true, Phil!’ Adam spelled it out: ‘He’s always hitting her, and she never tells anyone. And now he’s hurt her so bad, he’s got frightened and run away. He should be locked up for ever!’
Phil didn’t really know what to believe, except what he had seen for himself today. And, talking about his father’s brutal treatment of his mother, Adam seemed genuinely afraid.
Phil now voiced his own concerns. ‘There’s a possibility that you could be wrong about what happened. Maybe they had an argument and there really was a terrible accident, and if that’s the case, your father will be worried sick when he gets home. I know one thing for sure, though, he will not be best pleased to see me and my dog taking up residence in his house. After all, I’m not even a relative. I’m just the driver of the school bus who’s got himself caught up in a shocking accident—’
‘It wasn’t an accident! He did it, I know he did!’
‘Sssh!’ Phil instructed Adam, slightly unnerved. ‘Like I say, just now, it’s best not to talk about it too much. Let’s just wait and see how things go. We’ll have a better picture of the situation once the doctor tells us what’s happening. Until then, however difficult it is, we have to be patient.’ He looked the boy in the eye. ‘Agreed?’
With a reluctant nod of the head, Adam had little choice but to agree. ‘When Mum comes home, everything will be all right, though, won’t it, Phil?’
‘Let’s hope so, eh?’ Phil was well aware of the seriousness of this situation.
‘Adam?’ Phil asked.
‘Yes, Phil?’ Adam looked up.
‘I have an idea to pass the time.’ The child’s small, anxious face made Phil immensely sad. ‘Do you know what I was just thinking?’
‘No.’
‘Well, I was thinking how you and me could say a little prayer for your mum. What d’you think?’
‘Oh, yes, please, Phil, I’d like that.’ The tears brimmed over. ‘Do you think it might help Mum to get better? I so much want her to come home. She will, won’t she, Phil?’ Throwing his arms round Phil’s neck, he hugged him so hard that Phil found it difficult to breathe.
Phil held him at arm’s length. ‘Listen to me, Adam. Even if we say a prayer it doesn’t mean that everything will come right. It doesn’t always work like that. All I’m saying is, at certain bad times in my own life, I’ve always found a deal of comfort in saying a little prayer; hoping that somebody up there in the Heavens might be listening, and that somehow they would try and help. The thing is, sometimes, however much they might want to help, they just can’t do it, and we will never know the reason for that. D’you understand what I’m saying?’
‘If you said a prayer, why did they not help you?’
Phil took a deep breath. ‘Well, it seems they weren’t able to give what I really asked for, but they did help me … a little.’
‘In what way?’
Phil was beginning to wish he had never started this, because the painful memories were flooding back. ‘Well, you see, when my dear wife was very ill, I prayed for the Lord to make her better …’ Composing himself, he went on in subdued tones: ‘Sadly, my prayers were not answered, because that was not to be. Thankfully, though, they did stop her pain and I was grateful for that. Maybe she had to leave me, because she had important work to do in Heaven. Maybe someone up there needed her far more than I did.’ Though he could not imagine how that might be, because for almost thirty years she was his world. His reason for living.
And now he had to stop tormenting himself, or the boy would see him cry and that would never do.
Adam’s angry voice penetrated his thoughts: ‘So, you said a prayer and asked for her to get better, then she died and you were sad. I think that was cruel.’
Phil nodded. ‘It was cruel for me, yes, because I miss her every waking moment. But in a way, it was not too cruel for her, because you see, she was no longer in pain. Maybe she would never have got better, and that was why the Good Lord stopped her suffering. Yes, you’re right in one way, because she was taken away from me, and I miss her. But I have so many wonderful memories to keep me warm.’
‘You loved her very much, didn’t you, Phil?’
Phil simply nodded.
‘Did you love her as much as I love my mum?’
‘Oh, yes. I’m sure I did. Y’see, we were together for a very long time.’
‘So, did she say a prayer as well?’
‘Well, I don’t know for sure, because if she did send up a prayer, she never told me. Maybe her pain was so bad, she prayed for it to be gone, and in their wisdom, and because it was her that was in pain and not me, they decided to grant her wish instead of mine. That’s fair enough … don’t you think?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Me neither, son, but we have to believe it was the only way.’
His life was not the same since losing his one and only love, and as long as he lived, it would never be the same again. Like it or not, he had to accept the situation.
He returned to his question: ‘So, knowing that you can’t always have your wish granted, do you still want us to say a little prayer for your mum?’
The boy smiled through his tears. ‘Yes, but I only know the one that Mum used to say before I went to sleep.’
‘Right, then!’ Phil was glad to have diverted the boy’s attention. ‘Only you’ll need to tell me what it is.’
Adam remembered it well. ‘When I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep …’
‘Ah, yes, that’s a good prayer. I like that. We’ll say it together … quietly.’
As they shared the prayer, they had no idea that someone else was listening. Someone who had also heard every word of their conversation.
An auxilary nurse had stopped to stack the linen cupboard next to the visitors’ room where Phil and Adam were quietly talking. The dividing wall was thin and she had innocently overheard every word of their intimate conversation.
Some of what she had overheard was shocking, especially regarding the father. Then the fact that the boy had no relatives, except a brutal father who had left the mother battered … seemingly to within an inch of her life. Unbelievably, after the event, he had callously abandoned his son to whatever fate awaited him; knowing he had no one to turn to.
Having been made aware of this important information, which she suspected may not have been made available to the duty nurse, she was unsure of what to do. Eventually, torn between compassion and her sworn responsibility, she concluded that there was really no choice at all. She softly closed the wide cupboard doors and made her way down the corridor at a smart pace. In view of Mrs Carter’s life-threatening injuries, she realised there was not a moment to lose.
As the auxilary nurse arrived at the door of the main office, the matron entered the room where Phil and Adam were impatiently waiting for news.
‘How is she?’ Phil enquired.
‘She’s out of surgery,’ the matron said. ‘Mr Hendon is a very reputable surgeon. I can assure you no one could have done better. He will answer all your questions, I’m sure, but for the moment he’s been called away to advise on another emergency. He needs to speak with you, and of course he’s aware you will have questions, so I’m sure he won’t be too long.’
‘Where’s my mum? Can I see her? Can she talk to me?’ Anxious for information, Adam pushed between the matron and Phil, his questions coming thick and fast. ‘Please, Nurse, can I just see her? Is she awake?’
In a reassuring manner, the matron informed him, ‘Your mother is out of surgery and in the recovery room. She’s tired and a bit groggy, which is understandable. A moment ago she opened her eyes and asked for you, so I do believe it would do her a world of good to see you. But you must not excite her, and you can only stay for a minute or two.’
Looking up at Phil, she explained, ‘She desperately needs to rest, but as she’s so very anxious to see her son, the surgeon has agreed for you both to visit, with myself in attendance.’ She lowered her voice. ‘You understand, she is not long out of major surgery. So when the nurse beckons you away, you will be expected to leave immediately.’
Nervously, Phil dared to ask, ‘But she did come through the surgery well, didn’t she?’
The matron glanced again at the boy, then she gave Phil an aside look that made his heart sink; for it seemed to warn him that things had not gone as well as they had hoped. ‘Like I say, the surgeon will speak with you presently.’
As she turned to leave, the door opened and the surgeon walked in.
A man of impressive stature and authority, he greeted Phil and Adam with a warm, sincere smile. ‘I’m sorry to have kept you both waiting, but I was called away.’
Phil’s questions were direct: ‘How is she … really? Are you concerned, or did it all go as well as you would have liked?’
Aware that Adam was also awaiting his answer, the surgeon chose his words carefully. ‘As you must understand, there were major injuries to deal with, and yes, of course there were some very worrying moments, but she put up a good fight and we must pray that she makes a good recovery.’
He now directed his advice to the boy. ‘Your mother is very weak. You must not expect to be with her for longer than a few minutes, and when the nurse indicates that it’s time to leave, you must do as she asks. You do understand, don’t you?’
Even though he ached to see his mother, Adam wanted what was best for her. ‘Yes, sir, I understand. I just need to see her.’
‘And so you will.’ He turned to the nurse. ‘Matron, please will you take these gentlemen along to see Mrs Carter?’
‘Of course.’
‘Thank you. Oh, and I’m afraid I need to commandeer two of your nurses.’
Matron pursed her lips in disapproval, but her smile soon reassured him. ‘As long as I get them back.’
‘Don’t worry.’ After working together for many years, these two understood each other.
Before excusing himself from their presence, he turned to Adam. ‘From the little your mother could tell us, she lost her footing and tumbled all the way down the stairs. Did you see her fall?’
Adam glanced nervously at Phil before answering, ‘No, sir. I wasn’t there. I came home from school and found her lying near the bottom of the steps.’
‘I see.’ He took a breath. ‘Your mother will be pleased to see you, but she’ll be a little groggy from the anaesthetic. She may not be able to say much, but she will hear you when you talk to her … Remember, a few minutes only.’
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