The Loner. Josephine Cox

a box of matches hidden on the shelf alongside. Aware that the light might be seen from the house, he took the lamp and the matches, then from a safe corner, he lit the lamp, keeping the flame low and shielded, while he made himself a bed in the hay.

      ‘Don’t you worry.’ Peeping over the stable door, the old shire horse had been watching him with big curious eyes. ‘I’m not moving in on you.’ Davie stroked its long mane. ‘I just need somewhere to bed down for the night. I need to think, and plan. I have to know where I’m going from here.’ His voice and spirit dropped. ‘I feel hopelessly lost,’ he confided. ‘I miss my grandad, and I need to be near Judy and her family. But if I stayed I might hear bad talk about my mam, and I wouldn’t like that at all.’

      At the thought of his mother being slandered, a wave of anger rushed through him. ‘I know she did bad things, and I know she caused a lot of unhappiness for the family, but if I hear anybody calling her names, I swear I’ll kill ’em!’ Tears filled his eyes. ‘I’ll never know why she did those terrible things…shamin’ us an’ all. But I don’t think she meant to hurt us. I don’t think she could help herself.’

      Gulping back the tears, he quickly composed himself. ‘I need to look for my dad.’ He gave a great heave of a sigh. ‘But where do I start?’ he asked the wide-eyed creature. ‘And if I was to find him, would he thank me for it?’

      Deep down he desperately needed to locate his father and be reassured. At the same time he believed his father would rather be left to find his own way through what had been a difficult time for all of them, added to which, Davie was reluctant to burden his father with the knowledge of the terrible sequence of events following his sad departure.

      Because of the angry, wounding words born out of despair, Davie was sensible enough to realise that it would take time and distance for everyone to reflect on what was said and done. He could not know how long that would take, or whether things would ever be better for this unfortunate family. But one thing he did know now, and he voiced it in a whisper. ‘No! I can’t go after my dad, and I won’t go back. Like it or not, I’m on my own.’

      Sighing deeply, he leaned his head on the railing. ‘I’ll need to be away first light,’ he muttered, ‘I’m not sure which direction to take or where I’m headed, or what I’ll do when I get there. All I know is I can’t stay round these parts any longer.’

      Worn by recent events and the crippling loss of his parents, he felt the tiredness laying heavy on him. But try as he might, he couldn’t sleep. He shifted, and turned, fretting about the where abouts of his father, and agonising over his grandad, knowing that he, too, must be feeling the pain of losing his family in such a devastating way. But what about me, Davie mused. Should he leave as planned and never come back? What should he do? Which way should he go? Sleep was elusive. The nightmare was real. Tormented and unsure, and so weary he could hardly breathe, he finally drifted into a shallow, troubled sleep.

      The touch of a hand startled him awake. And when he instinctively clenched his fist to lash out, she closed her small hand around his fingers. ‘I knew you were here,’ she whispered. ‘I went to sleep thinking it might have been you I saw running across the yard.’

      ‘Judy!’ In the soft glow from the lamp, he saw her face and was reassured. He smiled up at her. ‘You gave me a fright. I thought I was being attacked. I was just about to tackle you.’

      Judy’s voice was soft as gossamer. ‘I’m sorry, Davie. I didn’t mean to scare you.’

      Somewhat refreshed by the two hours or more that he’d slept, Davie was thrilled to see her. ‘Your parents…still asleep, are they?’

      She laughed. ‘I could hear Daddy snoring as I came out.’

      ‘That’s good. I don’t want them to find me.’ Quickly, he tucked his shirt into his trousers and scrambling to his feet, he took her by the shoulders and drew her up to face him. ‘I’m glad you’re here,’ he told her. ‘I thought I saw you at the bedroom window but I wasn’t sure whether you saw me. I daren’t come too near the house in case your mam or dad saw me…I was afraid if they did, they might take me back to Grandad.’ His voice fell. ‘Did you know he told me to get out and never come back.’

      Judy assured him, ‘Your grandad is sorry that he threw you out. He wants to make amends.’

      Davie was relieved at that. ‘I’m glad,’ he answered, ‘but I can’t go back yet, may be never. What he did – well, it made me think.’

      ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘What I mean is, it made me realise how hard it must have been for him since we moved back in. All this time he’s had more than enough to deal with, and he’s been good to all of us, but now he deserves time to himself.’ The boy felt somehow responsible, because of what his mother had done to the family. ‘It’s best if I were to get away from these parts altogether. Make a life for myself somewhere else.’

      Yet, even now he wasn’t sure if he could make it happen, or even if he was doing the right thing.

      Sensing the doubt in his voice, Judy hoped she might change his mind. ‘Your grandad was upset, Davie. The police had been and everything.’

      Davie hung his head. ‘So, you know what happened to my mam?’

      ‘Yes, Davie, I know.’ He was holding her two hands in his, and the warm, deep down pleasure was like nothing she had ever known.

      ‘Did you know she came home drunk, there was a terrible row and my dad walked out?’ The memory of it all was like a knife in his heart.

      Judy nodded, ‘He told us everything.’

      Davie was silent for a minute. Letting go of her hands, he walked to where the horse was peering at them. He nuzzled his face against the animal’s head, then, turning to Judy, he asked, ‘Was Grandad told about what happened in the woods…with my mam?’

      ‘Yes, Davie, he was told.’

      ‘And is he all right, I mean…do you think I should go back?’

      ‘That’s up to you, Davie. You have to do what you think is right.’

      He gave it a moment’s thought, ‘How is he?’

      ‘He was in a poor state when we got there, but after a while, he seemed to be taking it well enough, I think. The neighbours had been in, and the woman next door is going to look in every now and then.’

      ‘Is she…safe…my mam?’ A great sadness welled up in him.

      ‘Yes.’ The girl tried to recall what her father had said. ‘Daddy took her to the Infirmary, and they looked after her.’

      Davie nodded his head. ‘And Grandad?’ Almost unconsciously he dropped himself onto a haybale. ‘Will he be all right, do you think?’

      Judy sat herself beside him, and slipping her hand into his, she told him honestly, ‘He wants you home, Davie. He’s really worried about you.’

      When Davie remained silent, so did Judy. She didn’t know what else to say, and she didn’t know how to ease his pain. ‘I’m sure he’ll be all right, Davie. Like you say, he’s been through a lot, and may be you’re right. May be he does need some time to himself.’ Another thought reluctantly crossed her mind. ‘May be you do too?’

      ‘Right from when I was little, I thought my parents would split up one day.’ He kept his gaze down, so she wouldn’t see the tears clouding his eyes. ‘When Mam came home drunk in the early hours and Dad was waiting for her, they’d argue and he would always threaten to leave, but she always won him round in the end.’ He gave a painful little smile. ‘But not this time, eh?’

      For a long moment he was silent, thinking about the past, wondering where his parents were at that moment; one gone away because he found it impossible to stay any longer, and the other gone to…? When he was small and somebody died, they always told him that the person had gone to Heaven. Is that where she was…in Heaven?