Unforgettable (Gloria Cook) - By Gloria Cook Page 0,9
pay her for this. I kept some of your baby clothes, they’re in there too, and some new nappies I bought before they sent your father away.’ She spat out the last words. It was her belief that Aidan, of previously exemplary character, had been too harshly dealt with for one single act of taking a bribe, and she hated all those on the urban council she suspected had anonymously and cowardly informed the police on him.
‘Midwife! That’s it, I must fetch her at once,’ Finn cried, springing to fetch the box for his mother. He was too keyed-up to consider that his sudden movements were alarming to her. ‘Blast, there’s no phone here! Where does she live? I know it’s in the village but where exactly?’
‘She left her address on a piece of paper. I think I left it downstairs.’ Fiona screwed up her face as another pain hit her back and insides, drawing her mouth back and revealing all her teeth and gums, perspiration shining on her lined brow. ‘But you can’t leave me, Finn.’
‘I have to, Mum,’ he had squealed. ‘I don’t know anything about the birth of a baby.’
Fiona’s hands flew to Finn’s shirt so forcefully the collar cut into his neck. ‘Don’t you dare think of leaving me alone!’
But he did, and guilt teamed up with his worries at deserting his mother and he prayed the baby would take a good while longer before making its entrance into the world. He was rushing home at his fastest but his legs seemed to be dragging him in slow motion. He rounded a bend and a large green shape sped straight at him forcing him to leap up into the hedge, his hands finding purchase on a blackthorn bush. All he saw of the young male driver in the sporty roadster was a wide white grin under a tweed cap. Jumping down to the ground, ignoring the thorns piercing his palms, Finn shook his fist at the retreating car. ‘Damn you, you bloody swine!’ he swore and shouted worse. ‘You nearly spread me all over the road.’
He charged on up the last of the hill, picking thorns out of his flesh and tossing them down in anger. Finally he was pounding over the rutted ground, muddy still in places from recent rain, on the path that led to Merrivale. Guilt once more nagged at him. He should have supported his mother more and complained a lot less and perhaps she wouldn’t have moped so much, got so down. In her condition many women would end up the same, depressed and lonely, and ashamed to be reduced to living in a fetid dump on limited means, abandoned by family and friends. One or two friends had offered help but Fiona had only taken up Guy Carthewy’s offer, the only person she said she could truly trust. What a bloody great come down. He should have thought more about the baby; he had not even wondered if it would be a boy or a girl or what a baby would need.
The cottage appeared through the elm and beech trees that hid it from the road. A sudden wash of baleful wind pierced through his angst and cooled the sweat dripping off him. The house seemed to darken before his eyes and he lost focus. It must be exhaustion brought on by his ragged nerves, he reasoned, but things didn’t appear as usual. The glass windows in the quirky, mossy, flaking white walls were like spidery eyes, glaring at him darkly in the gloom. Finn had heard the rumours about Merrivale being haunted by two tortured souls despatched here by violent murder and also by a distant relative of Guy Carthewy’s who had died here. The old biddy in the general stores had gleefully told him all about it while trying to pump him for personal information when he had trailed to the village shop with the ration books, he feeling conspicuous to be carrying a straw shopping bag. Was someone watching him from among the trees? Finn shook his head and his sight cleared but he could have sworn he’d seen a shadowy form. The house now seemed as it normally did, run-down, uninviting and cheerless, even in early summer. Winter here didn’t bear thinking about, and as for the long-term future . . .
The front door hung out of true on its rusty hinges and was so difficult to open that he and Fiona kept it locked. Fiona