In fleshing out the story of a stranger’s act of heroic courage, newspaper reporters had done their homework and found out that Rick had a pregnant fiancée. It had all the ingredients of a perfectly newsworthy story with a perfectly tragic ending, exactly what would appeal to their readers.
On the pavement where the attack had happened, a shrine of flowers had appeared with mawkish RIP messages for a man nobody in the area had actually known.A man whom nobody, not even those with whom he’d worked, ever really knew.
But then that was true of them all, thought Naomi as she stood at the kitchen window drinking the last of her coffee and watching Willow walk to the end of the garden with Ellis.
It was now the first week of December and four weeks had passed since Rick’s death and only in the last few days did Willow seem more like her usual self. During those difficult weeks, and despite them all saying she mustn’t, Willow had blamed herself for his death. For such a tender-hearted girl, it was a heavy load to carry on top of everything else.
Her coffee finished and putting her mug in the dishwasher, Naomi heard her mobile ping with a text message. Picking up the device, she saw it was a message from Geraldine. After a barrage of communications from Brian begging her to return home, Geraldine had come to her senses and done just that. Once home, she discovered that Brian had arranged for them to go on a cruise to the Galapagos Islands.
‘I call it very high-handed of him to book the trip without checking with me first,’ Geraldine had grumbled to Naomi. To which Naomi had told her friend to stop complaining and just be pleased that Brian was finally doing what she had wanted him to do, and that was to act with more spontaneity.
Any news on when the inquest will take place?Geraldine had texted.
Still no word, Naomi replied.
They’d been told it could take a while for Rick’s post-mortem to be done and for the coroner’s inquest to reach a verdict – probably death by unlawful killing – and only then would Rick’s body be released for burial. With no family of his own to arrange his funeral,that task would fall to Willow as his next of kin. When the time came, Naomi and Ellis would help as much as she would allow them to. She seemed so very determined that things should be done right for Rick, that she owed him that much.
Detective Constable Fowler, who had been dealing with the case – which was now classed as murder, having previously been referred to as offensive wounding with intent – didn’t inspire confidence that the culprits would be found. CCTV had yielded nothing more than a few seconds of blurred footage.
There had been an awkward moment that day when the detective and her sidekick had turned up here to tell Willow that Rick had been involved in a serious assault. Giving Willow a scrutinising look, the woman had enquired about her cut lip and black eye. She made the question sound as though it was in some way connected to the attack on Rick, especially when she then asked Willow where she had been at the time of the assault. Naomi had quickly nipped that line of questioning in the bud and made it very clear that Willow had been with them. Geraldine had then blurted out how Willow had come by her injuries, which Naomi wished she hadn’t. The detective seized on this nugget of information and, granted she was only doing her job, it was galling for them all suddenly then to be considered suspects, as though they had planned the attack to exact revenge on the man who had hurt a member of their family. It was a ludicrous suspicion that thankfully gained no traction.
Interestingly, this aspect of Rick’s character, that he had been physically abusive to his pregnant fiancée the night before he was attacked, was never mentioned in any of the newspaper reports.After all, it would have ruined the heroic image they had created of him. Willow had said the omission didn’t bother her, that in fact she preferred that nobody ever knew about that darker side to Rick’s personality. What purpose did it serve to make it known? she’d asked them all. More importantly, there was the baby to consider. She was adamant that under no circumstances did she want her daughter ever to know something so awful about her father. It was to remain a secret between them.
As if there hadn’t been enough of those in the family, Naomi thought now with a heartfelt sigh.
But perhaps it was simply a fact of life, that every family had its secrets. Her own last remaining secret, that she had cheated on Colin with Ellis in the early years of her marriage, had played on her mind, given that she had vowed to start her life afresh with a thoroughly clean slate. Ellis was firmly of the opinion that it was an unnecessary confession. ‘If you tell your daughters about that,’ he’d said, ‘then by rights you would have to tell them about Colin’s adultery as well. Haven’t they had enough to contend with?’
She could see the sense in what he said, so she had kept quiet, deciding that burdening Martha and Willow with yet another layer of shock and betrayal was best avoided. More than ever, it was essential that they looked to the future, not the past. And that future now contained Naomi’s first grandchild, a precious baby girl who’d had to fight for her survival in the days following her unexpectedly early arrival into the world.
She was a darling little girl who looked just like Willow when she’d been a baby. The resemblance was uncanny and when Naomi had at last been allowed to hold her, it had been like being transported back in time to when she first held Martha and Willow and had experienced that exquisite sensation of falling in love.
She had been with Willow throughout the birth at the hospital, holding her hand and helping her as much as she could, veering from abject terror that something might go horribly wrong, to utter joy when it was all over and they saw the baby for the first time, if only briefly before she’d been whisked off to the Special Care Baby Unit.
Born at thirty-three weeks and classed as a moderate to late preterm baby had meant an initial period of specialised care was needed in the neonatal ward, but Willow’s daughter proved to be a tough little fighter, and after ten days was able to breathe and feed without assistance. That had been a truly momentous moment.
During the weeks of special care, Willow could barely be parted from her baby and did as much as she could to look after her daughter. The rest of them were allowed to visit, taking it in turns to be with Willow and offer support. The nursing staff at St Richard’s Hospital in Chichester could not have been more helpful or understanding and went a long way towards building Willow’s confidence as a new mother.
Happily, three days ago the baby, who was still unnamed, was deemed well enough to be allowed home, and for now, home was here at Anchor House. So far the transition had had a positive effect on both Willow and the baby, both of whom seemed to be thriving.
Naomi was so very proud of her youngest daughter. With everything she had gone through, including the horror of what had happened to her as a student, she had shown extraordinary strength and resilience. Even Martha had admitted that she didn’t think she would have coped half so well as her sister had.
What really touched Naomi’s heart was seeing the strong bond of love that Willow so clearly felt for her baby. It reminded her of the conversation she’d once had with Colin when he’d said that what their youngest daughter would need in life was for somebody to take care of her and Naomi had disagreed, saying that the making of Willow would be having someone she could take care of. How true that now seemed.
As if agreeing with Naomi, there came a snuffling sound from the baby monitor on the dresser. Having promised Willow faithfully that she would listen out for the baby and call her if there was a problem, she went and stood next to the monitor to make sure she didn’t miss anything. After a few more snuffling sounds, all went quiet. Which of course meant she was compelled to go upstairs to double-check all was well. Smiling to herself, she remembered doing exactly the same when Martha and Willow were babies.
As she climbed the stairs as stealthily as a cat-burglar, she wondered how things were going next door.
Watching Willow take in the improvements he’d made to the ground floor of the cottage, Ellis asked her what she thought of it all.
‘You’ve done so much in such a short space of time,’ she said, shrugging off her coat and putting it on the back of a chair. ‘I love the way the kitchen and sitting area now opens out straight onto the garden, it’s like the beach is even nearer.’
‘That was what I hoped I’d achieve by installing the bi-fold doors,’ he said, standing next to her so that they were both facing the garden and sea beyond.‘Do you want to see upstairs? I finished painting the landing last night, so you’ll have to excuse the smell of paint.’ He indicated that she should go up the narrow flight of stairs first.
At the top, he led the way into the smaller of the three bedrooms. All it contained was one piece of furniture and when Willow saw it, she looked puzzled. ‘Why is there a cot in here?’ she asked.
‘Because I wondered if you might like to make this your home with the baby.’
The puzzled expression deepened. ‘But it’s yours. You’ve been doing the cottage up as an investment. Something for Lucas to enjoy, perhaps.’
