The Runaway Woman. Josephine Cox

THROUGH THE quiet streets, Lucy made a forlorn figure.

      The late April showers had now developed into a heavy downpour, but she didn’t even notice. Instead, she pressed silently on, deep in thought, not knowing where she was or how far she had walked.

      Try as she might, she could not shut out the image of Martin and Paula, lying together in her bed, the two of them stark naked and unashamed.

      She recalled how natural and easy they were together. It must have been going on for a long time, she quickly realised. They were too comfortable with each other, laughing and teasing like long-time lovers; wickedly at ease together.

      The more she thought of it, the more she realised the depth of their deceit. Martin’s work van had been nowhere to be seen. So had he hidden it? Was the whole thing planned right down to the last detail?

      She had so many unanswered questions. How could Martin do this to her … and with her own sister? Martin was her whole life. The man she had loved and trusted all these years, and like an idiot, thought he loved her too.

      When the rain spewed down and blinded her so she could hardly see where she was going, Lucy ran along the street and took refuge in a nearby bus shelter.

      Completely drenched, she curled up on the wooden seat at the back of the shelter, hoping that there she might be left alone.

      Dark was closing in. The street was empty, and the light by the shelter was flickering, creating ghostly shadows to unnerve her.

      In that desolate moment, she felt like the loneliest person in the world. She put her hands over her face and sobbed, her heart broken. She had given Martin her whole life – and this was what it had come to.

      A short time later, she caught snatches of conversation between two people nearby; seemingly a man and a woman. They were approaching quickly, and then they were running to escape the rain, their rhythmic footsteps clipping over the pavement, every second bringing them closer.

      Convinced that they were making for the shelter, Lucy pressed herself closer to the back wall, hiding in the shadows. The last thing she needed right now was for strangers to see her there.

      As they approached the shelter, their raised voices became more distinct. Now they were laughing aloud at something the woman had said.

      ‘The place at Littleton is the answer,’ the man told her. ‘It’s absolutely perfect for you.’

      Suddenly the woman lost her footing, crying out as she stumbled. ‘Dammit! I should never have worn these new, high-heeled shoes. What was I thinking?’

      Lucy froze when the woman leaned against the opening of the shelter. ‘Stand still!’ The man’s voice was kindly but firm. ‘Hold on to me, Nancy.’

      Though they had not yet realised Lucy was there, she could see the two of them clearly. The man was tall and smartly dressed. He held the woman steady while she took off the offending shoe.

      ‘All right, are you?’

      ‘It serves me right,’ she replied, ‘but I dare say I’ll live … thanks, Dave.’ Gently rubbing her foot, she chuckled. ‘Nothing broken,’ she reported, ‘except for my stupid pride!’

      Lucy cowered back, swiftly wiping the tears from her face.

      Just then the man glanced up, to see Lucy squashed into the corner of the bench. ‘Good Lord, you gave me a fright!’

      ‘What …?’ the woman followed his gaze. On seeing Lucy, she quickly slid her foot into the shoe and stood up straight. ‘Whatever are you doing here … in the dark, on your own?’ She glanced about as though expecting to see someone else there.

      Realising that these two were not thugs who might attack and rob her, Lucy scrambled off the bench and made her way towards them. ‘I got caught out in the rain,’ she explained. ‘I dived in here to try to dry off. Now that the rain seems to have stopped, I’d best be on my way.’

      The man was concerned, and his kind eyes took in her bedraggled appearance and tear-stained face. ‘I don’t know how long you’ve been curled up in this damp place, but you must be feeling cold to the bone. Look, we were just popping into the pub across the street. You’re very welcome to join us.’

      Lucy saw the woman’s surprise at her companion inviting a complete stranger to join them, but she said nothing. The woman was indeed taken aback by his generous invitation. Normally, Dave Benson would not be so reckless.

      The woman, Nancy, now regarded Lucy, thinking her attractive in a gentle, homely kind of way. Not at all the kind of confident, well-groomed woman Dave might be drawn to. Nancy was both bemused and interested. This quietly spoken, wet and bedraggled woman had clearly stirred compassion in Dave. It was obvious that he was loath to leave her there alone.

      Lucy was surprised and moved by the stranger’s kind invitation, and touched by his obvious concern for her welfare. Another time, she might have accepted his offer of friendship. Just now, though, she needed solace to try to deal with the painful truth regarding the two people she had loved and trusted.

      A multitude of questions reeled through her mind. Was Martin planning to end their marriage? And if he truly wanted that, did she want the same? Could she carry on the sham? Could she even keep quiet about having seen them together?

      And what about her sister, Paula – what was she thinking? Was it just a daring fling, a kind of excitement for her? Or did she really want to take Martin away from his wife and children?

      Lucy knew that whether or not she lost Martin, she alone would be the biggest loser. So, for the sake of her family, should she pretend, and carry on as usual? The more she thought about it, the more Lucy realised that she alone might be the one either to save, or to break the family. That was the crippling dilemma she now faced. It was painfully obvious that she must decide what to do. One thing was certain: she could never again love Martin; at least not in the same way. Nor could she keep a respectable relationship with her sister.

      As for her parents, they would be devastated if they knew but Lucy could never burden them with the shameful truth.

      Seeing how distant and troubled Lucy seemed, Dave Benson asked again, ‘So, what do you say? Will you join me and Nancy?’

      ‘No, I’m sorry,’ Lucy replied. ‘I really have to be somewhere else.’

      She was in no mood for company. Least of all, the company of strangers, however friendly they might be.

      She walked out of the bus shelter and onto the pavement. ‘Thank you all the same,’ she told the couple. ‘The thing is … I was already on my way to visit Mum. She’s not been very well of late. Then the rain came down and I dodged in here.’ She glanced at the brooding skies. ‘Thankfully, though, it seems to be clearing now.’

      Noticing how Lucy had crossed her arms over her chest and was visibly shivering, Nancy said, ‘There’s usually a roaring fire going at the pub. Dave is right, you really do need to warm up, and maybe have a bite to eat. With luck, we can grab a table near to the fire.’ Like Dave, she sensed that this homely little woman was genuinely distressed and in dire need of a friend. However, they both respected her reluctance to go with them to the pub.

      Dave thought they should leave it at that. Albeit reluctantly.

      ‘It’s obvious you need to be on your way,’ he said. ‘Take care now, and I hope your mother’s health improves. I’m sure she will be very glad to see you.’

      ‘Thank you, yes, I’m sure she will.’ His concern was comforting to Lucy. She liked the way he had somehow managed to ease her trauma, and she liked his easy, gentle smile.

      She thought there was something very genuine and caring about the man called Dave. More than that, he had a certain kind of warmth that reached out. She thought he would make a loyal friend.

      ‘Thank you for your kind offer.’ She then gave the smallest of smiles and turned away, walking at such a hurried pace that the strangers