Songbird. Josephine Cox

      ‘Oh, do shut up!’ Like everyone else, Abigail had long been curious about the old woman, but she had no time for Darren’s silliness. ‘I can’t help feeling sorry for her. I mean, what went wrong in her life, do you think?’ She looked around at her friends. ‘What could have happened to make her like she is, so terrified of people, and so paranoid about going out in daylight?’

      For a while, they discussed their neighbour, until Robin suddenly remembered he had promised to call his father. ‘I’d best get down to the phone in the hall and give my dad a quick ring.’

      ‘Make him wait, why don’t you?’ Having fallen out with his own family long ago, Darren bitterly resented those who stayed together. ‘He’s always giving you grief over wanting to be a doctor, instead of going into his poxy veterinary business. He made his choice and it’s time he let you make yours. For Chrissake, Rob! When will you stop running after him, like some frightened little kid!’

      In the ensuing silence, all eyes were on Robin. A quiet guy, he was not easily roused into temper. But Darren’s words were harsh, and the tension almost palpable.

      Getting up, his face set like stone, Rob crossed to where Darren lay slouched in an armchair. ‘You’d best explain what you meant by that,’ he said, his voice low and trembling.

      Shocked to see the dark anger in Rob’s face, and like the coward he was, Darren swiftly withdrew his comment. ‘I didn’t mean anything,’ he replied curtly. ‘All I’m saying is, families aren’t what they’re cracked up to be. Look at me!’ He held out his arms triumphantly. ‘I had the good sense to dump my family long ago, and now I’m much better off without them.’

      ‘Really?’ Robin regarded him with contempt. ‘Well, thankfully, you and I are very different. I would never turn my back on family. You see, the only family I have now is my father, and whatever the differences between us, I have no intention of ever dumping him. In fact, I love and respect him. Never a day goes by when I don’t thank my lucky stars that he’s around.’

      His cold gaze was unswerving, ‘So tell me, Darren, do you have a problem with that?’

      The other boy shook his head. ‘None whatsoever.’

      ‘So, will we ever have this conversation again?’

      ‘Not as far as I’m concerned, no.’ Shaken by this unexpected confrontation, Darren the bully wanted the incident ended. ‘You and your dad are none of my concern.’

      ‘Glad to hear it. So now – if it’s all right with you – I’ll be about my business.’

      Robin was almost out of the door when Betsy grabbed her denim jacket and went after him. ‘I’ll come with you,’ she said. ‘I could do with a change of scene myself.’ Like the others, she had been appalled by Darren’s spiteful remarks.

      As always, Robin saw Betsy as a true friend. ‘I’d like that, yes. Let’s go down to the callbox on the corner. Get a breath of air.’

      When the front door was shut behind them Betsy glanced back to see their neighbour’s curtains twitch. ‘She’s watching us again,’ the girl whispered with a smile.

      Deep in thought, they walked on.

      ‘Rob?’

      ‘Mmm?’

      ‘How do you really think she came to end up here, all alone and scared to go out?’

      ‘It could have been any number of things,’ he mused. ‘The loss of someone she loved, a disastrous business venture that left her short of money and friends, or it could have been a family fall-out. Who can tell? Life has a way of kicking you in the teeth when you least expect it.’

      Betsy’s curiosity was heightened. ‘You sound very bitter.’

      ‘That’s because I am. But then I believe that whatever happens in life, and however devastated we are, we just have to make the best of what we’ve got and get on with it.’

      Betsy sensed his sadness. ‘You never mention your mother,’ she ventured nervously.

      Robin did not answer. Instead, he cast his gaze to the ground and quickened his step.

      ‘I’m here if you want to talk about it,’ Betsy went on.

      He shook his head. ‘Some things are best left unsaid.’

      Affectionately squeezing his arm, Betsy apologised. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.’

      ‘I know that,’ he replied. ‘Thanks for caring anyway.’

      They continued walking down the street until they reached a low wall by an area of wasteland.

      ‘Let’s sit down for a moment,’ Robin said. A few moments later, much to Betsy’s surprise, he began to confide in her.

      ‘I was just a kid of six, when my mother was involved in a car accident.’ He paused and took a breath. Even now it was hard to talk about it. ‘It took them three hours to cut her out of the wreckage.’

      He could recall every moment, of every tortuous day and night. ‘She was in a coma for weeks. In all that time, Dad and I never gave up hope, even though deep down, I think we knew she would never recover. One summer’s morning, she just slipped away …’ He cleared his throat. ‘They said she didn’t suffer, that she wouldn’t have known anything.’

      He took a moment to collect his thoughts. ‘Afterwards, my dad changed beyond all recognition. He used to be always smiling and joking, the life and soul of the party. He adored my mother, and when she was gone, it was as if a big part of him went with her. He couldn’t seem to function any more … couldn’t work, didn’t sleep. For days he just wandered round the house in a trance.’

      He grimaced. ‘Dad was well qualified. From an early age, he always loved animals; his one burning ambition was to have his own veterinary clinic. When he left college he became a junior assistant at the local vet’s … worked his way up, and now he has four reputable clinics across Bedfordshire.’

      Betsy was impressed. ‘That’s quite an achievement,’ she said. ‘And were you never interested in joining him?’

      Robin shook his head. ‘Before I started school, I’d go with him on his calls sometimes.’ He gave a chuckle. ‘It was all a bit scary and bloody.’

      ‘But it didn’t put you off wanting to be a doctor?’

      ‘No, just the opposite. It made me want to help ease pain and suffering … but in people, not animals. So, in one way, I suppose my ambitions were much the same as my dad’s. Although he can’t seem to grasp it that way.’

      Looking down on Betsy, he went on in quieter tones, ‘At first – after the accident, I mean – the way it was, I began to think I’d lost both my parents.’

      The girl was tempted to comment, to reassure him, but then she realised he needed to open the door which he had kept locked for too long, so she remained silent and let him speak.

      ‘I was just six years old. He was my dad but he didn’t even seem to know I was there.’ The boy’s memory of it was still vivid.

      ‘We never sat down to a meal any more. It was either curry or Chinese from the local take-aways, or beans on toast and Lyons individual fruit pies. He left me to my own devices for days on end. You see, he forgot that I, too, was desperately missing my mother.’

      He still recalled the sense of helplessness and loss. The awful loneliness.

      ‘After a while, Dad went back to work. It was as if he went from one extreme to another. This time, he drove himself like a mad thing – with extra clinics, longer hours, home visits … anything so’s not to be in the house. I was only a kid, but I learned to fend for myself. I would get up, wash, dress and go off to school in the village, never knowing if he’d be there when I got back. Not knowing if he would ever come home!’