Finding Lucy. Diana Finley

she served what Mother would have called “builders’ tea”, but I drank it and made no comment.

      ‘So you see, we’ll be coming up in a while – my little girl Lucy and I – just as soon as the house is ready,’ I explained.

      ‘Ooh, how lovely! It’ll be so nice for all of us to have a younger family next door. Charlie – did you hear that? A little girl next door for you to play with!’ Susan turned back to me. ‘How old is Lucy?’

      I almost panicked for a moment. I felt a rush of colour swarming up my neck and cheeks. How could I know exactly how old Lucy was?

      ‘She’s … er … a bit younger than Charlie.’ I lowered my voice. ‘The thing is, Susan, we lost Lucy’s daddy recently …’

      This was a useful device to distract Susan from her question. Her eyes widened and she put her hands up to her face, which adopted a tragic expression.

      ‘Lost …? Oh no, how terrible! I’m so sorry … er … how …’

      ‘Accident …’ I whispered under my breath. ‘Yes, that’s why we had to move, you understand … to allow us to rebuild our lives together up here in Newcastle. A completely new start.’

      I was getting into my stride now. I noted Susan’s agonised expression and continued. ‘I’m looking forward to making a happy, loving home, for Lucy’s sake. That’s what I’ll live for now.’

      Susan nodded at me knowingly. To my astonishment, her eyes filled with tears. She squeezed my arm tenderly. I gulped and looked at my lap.

      ‘Right now,’ I said, inserting a slight tremor into my voice, ‘Lucy has been staying with … um … an aunt back in Nottingham whenever I make these visits to the North East to get things sorted. She’s been very supportive, but I’m hoping we can both settle here properly soon.’

      Susan continued her nodding, while biting her lip in a rather foolish way that I supposed was intended to denote empathy. I took a deep breath, and concentrated on brightening my facial expression.

      ‘I’m sorry, Susan – I didn’t want to upset you with all this gloomy talk. Just listen to me, I’ve done nothing but talk about myself! How rude of me – please tell me more about you.’

      Susan didn’t need asking twice; she looked relieved to change the subject. She was a naturally talkative person, and seemed keen to tell me all about the family; her husband Michael (‘most people call him Mike’) was a GP and she herself was a part-time solicitor. There was an excellent first school on the estate, which Claire attended. She had the rest of that year there before moving on to the middle school. Charlie had started going to the nursery part-time.

      Susan was sure Lucy would love it too, when she started. I quickly intervened and explained that I felt Lucy was too young for nursery just at the moment. She would need some time to settle down first.

      ‘Of course she will, Alison. Dear little Lucy will need her mummy more than anything at the moment,’ she said, ‘but don’t forget she can come and play with Charlie any time, any time at all – and Claire will just love playing the older sister. Also, we know most of the people around here and can easily introduce you. That’ll help you to settle and get to know people. Everyone’s really friendly.’

      I wasn’t at all sure I liked the sound of these introductions, but decided that at least it showed that Susan and Mike were welcoming and accepting.

      The neighbours on the other side were an older retired couple, Frank and Molly Armstrong. They were equally warm, rushing about to produce tea and homemade scones for me when I called. I told them the same story as I’d told to the Harmons. Molly Armstrong shook her head and patted my hand sympathetically. Frank said if there was anything he could help with, anything at all – he was handy with tools or a paintbrush – just to let him know.

      They both said how nice it would be to have a little girl growing up next door, and they would be happy to babysit at any time – they didn’t go out much. I almost responded that I didn’t go out much either, but decided it was best to reveal as little of myself as possible.

       Chapter Five

      I found the next stage of the preparations highly enjoyable. I got up early, took the train to York, and spent the morning in the city centre buying the necessary items: a navy blue gabardine coat (a bit dull) and some clumpy navy shoes; a more stylish, pillar-box red, lightweight wool coat; and black knee-length boots for me. Then I went into British Home Stores and Marks and Spencer for a number of sets of girls’ clothing, including pyjamas and underwear, all sized for age two years, and one set of boys’ clothes: dungarees, jumper, hat and parka, also for age two years.

      Next, I allowed myself a break – a delightful light lunch and pot of tea at Betty’s Tea Room. Mother frequently said I should allow myself more “treats”. As always, she was right – I found I could relax and enjoy myself as I nursed a good cup of my favourite Earl Grey tea in the comfort and warmth of Betty’s.

      It was pleasant strolling through the historic lanes and looking in at the shop windows. Mothercare was not far. With some helpful advice I selected a lightweight Maclaren pushchair, which the assistant referred to as a “buggy”. I also bought a potty, some nappies (just in case), a set of child’s plastic crockery and cutlery, and a few toys and books. This was all I could manage, but by putting several of the carrier bags into the buggy I was able to make my way back to York station, and from there I caught my train to Newcastle.

      The next day I ordered a child’s bed, mattress and bedding, a wardrobe and chest of drawers, a little table and two chairs to match, some cheerful pictures, and a few more toys, all from Bainbridge’s excellent department store in Newcastle city centre. These items were to be delivered to my new house the following Friday, by which time Lucy’s room would be decorated and carpeted.

      * * *

      At home, I tried on the navy coat and shoes for the third time, together with the dark brown wig I’d ordered previously from a discreet company dealing mainly with cancer sufferers. I’d never taken great interest in fashion, much to the scorn of my schoolmates, but I knew exactly what I liked in the way of clothes.

      I gazed at my reflection in the mirror. The effect on my appearance was immediate and striking. I was totally transformed – how very satisfactory. I even felt different in my new outfit: older and, it has to be said, somewhat dowdy. Removing those clothes, I delighted in observing the metamorphosis wrought by switching to the red coat, the delicious high boots, and the return to my natural fair hair. Not exactly a “scarlet woman”, but certainly a more lively and attractive persona.

      The following week I arranged for some of my furniture and household possessions to be moved from Nottingham to Newcastle. I had stocked the new kitchen cupboards and the freezer with suitable food for me and a young child. The house was ready.

      I invited Mike and Susan Harmon, together with their children, and Frank and Molly Armstrong to come in for drinks to celebrate. Mike and Susan opted for a glass of wine and I’d got in Kia-Ora and Ribena for Claire and Charlie. I’d laid out some toys, books, paper and drawing pens and crayons on the dining table for them, as well as some crisps and snacks. It pained me a little to see Charlie sift through the objects I had so carefully ordered. He seemed to have no thought for rearranging the colours of the crayons, nor the size order of the books and toys. Oh well; I resolved to do it myself later.

      ‘Oh, aren’t you thoughtful, Alison!’ said Susan, looking around.

      ‘Well, I know what it’s like for children when adults are talking together.’

      ‘’Course you do. We can’t wait to meet Lucy, isn’t that right, children?’

      Claire looked up from her drawing and smiled. ‘It’ll be nice to have a little girl next door,’ she said emphatically, glancing at her brother.