‘Did you catch the bad guys?’ says Laura, going into the kitchen.
‘I think so,’ says Nelson.
‘There’s a postcard for you from Grandma,’ says Laura. ‘I think she’s the only person on earth who still sends postcards.’
The card shows an illuminated Blackpool tower and the message on the back reads: ‘Having lots of fun (joke!). Wish you were here Mumxx’. Nelson feels strangely tearful. His mother misses him, that’s the reason she took the card from her stash, stuck on a stamp and braved the walk to the post box. And, strangely enough, he misses her too.
After his shower, Nelson comes downstairs to find Laura heating something up in the microwave. She’s in the garden with Bruno and he can hear the dog’s excited barks. Thank God there’s a can of beer in the fridge. Nelson drinks it while the plate revolves in the microwave. He thinks of Samantha Wilson and her Weight Watchers’ meal. When did she decide to kill herself? Between the defrosting and the eating? Did Hugh Baxter really persuade her to take her own life? Sadly, that will be impossible to prove but they should be able to get him for Zoe’s kidnapping. Even so, with a good lawyer and considering his age, Baxter might get away with a suspended sentence. How many people are there, thinks Nelson, who kill without using a lethal weapon? ‘He just talked to them,’ said Jo earlier. How many people whispering poisoned words in their victims’ ears? How many men like Jay, outwardly respectable, yet fiends of cruelty in their own home?
This line of thought is making Nelson very depressed. He takes his beer into the sitting room and switches on the TV. But there’s no sport because of lockdown and all the other programmes seem to be repeats. He’s looking for an American cop show, something likeColomboorKojak, when his phone buzzes. It’s Michelle.
I’m coming home.
Chapter 44
Monday, 20 April
Three weeks after he was rushed into hospital in an ambulance, Cathbad leaves in a wheelchair to a rapturous round of applause from the ICU staff. Cathbad is embarrassed about the wheelchair– he’s perfectly able to walk– but is told that this is hospital policy. He’s overwhelmed too that the doctors and nurses are actually cheeringhim. ‘It’s a success for us all,’ Abbas told him, ‘when someone who was so sick goes home again.’ Cathbad thanks Abbas by the main doors, pressing his hands together in a namaste although he would love to be able to give the nurse a hug. Abbas bows back, eyes smiling behind his mask. Cathbad remembers looking into those same eyes during the many hours when he couldn’t speak and was scared that his next breath would be his last. ‘Keep going’– that was the message Abbas sent him silently. Cathbad also has a confused memory of Nelson saying, ‘You’re not dead yet, Cathbad.’ Was this an actual memory of the night on the marshes or did Nelson visit Cathbad in a dream? He doesn’t know but he hopes to find out one day.
A week earlier Boris Johnson also left hospital. He credited two nurses, Jenny from New Zealand and Luis from Portugal, with saving his life. ‘They kept vigil,’ he said, ‘when things could have gone either way.’ Hearing this, Cathbad experienced a rare feeling of kinship with the Prime Minister.
Judy drives him home. Cathbad thinks that the sky has never looked so high and blue. When he sees the sea, sparkling away like a tourist poster, he almost cries again. He’s always prided himself on being in touch with his emotions but, in recovery, he’s found himself laughing and weeping at the smallest things. Yesterday, Abbas told him a joke about David Beckham that almost killed him.
The tears flow again when they reach the house and Cathbad sees his neighbours lining the road: Steve and Richard, Jill and Barney, Vikram and Elsa, Donna, Sue and Dorothy. Across the porch is a banner saying, ‘Welcome home, Dad’. Ruth and Kate are standing by the gate, waving madly, and Maddie, Michael and Miranda are in the doorway. As Cathbad approaches, wiping his eyes, they run towards him, but Thing is too fast for the humans. He flings himself on Cathbad, almost knocking him to the ground. Cathbad remembers the day he first met the dog, at his friend Pendragon’s cottage on Pendle Hill, when the bull terrier’s exuberant welcome had succeeded in flooring him.
‘It’s all right, Thing. I’m home now.’
Judy pulls Thing away and Cathbad is embracing his children, a scrum of love and relief and tears.
When they pause for breath, Cathbad turns to Ruth, who is still keeping her socially approved distance. She and Kate are both smiling and suddenly seem radiantly alike.
‘It’s wonderful that you’re home,’ says Ruth.
‘I prayed for you,’ says Kate.
‘Thank you, Hecate,’ says Cathbad. ‘It helped. A lot.’
‘Go into the house,’ says Ruth, ‘and carry on getting better.’
Cathbad raises his hand and it seems that even the seagulls, high above, are welcoming him home in raucous chorus.
Ruth and Kate drive home still elated by the hero’s return. Kate talks excitedly about Cathbad. ‘Do you think it’s a miracle, Mum?’ Ruth doesn’t feel qualified to judge but she’s glad Kate is happy when she’s had so many disappointments recently. It’s become clear over the last few weeks that the Year 6 trip is not going to happen. ‘We hope to have the children in school for a week in June,’ said Mrs Obuya, ‘and we’ll have some socially-distanced celebrations.’ But it’s not the same as a trip or a disco or a prom. Ruth finds Kate’s stoic acceptance of this almost heartbreaking.
But Kate does have the excitement of a new aunt and, as they near the little cottages, they see Zoe in the garden. She has cleared the ground and has sown seeds with witchy names like salvia, scabious and zinnia. Sunflowers are growing in pots and Zoe is busy preparing hanging baskets for the summer. Derek and Flint are watching with interest from their respective doorsteps. They need no government directive to maintain social distancing.
Zoe has gone back to work, physically none the worse for her ordeal, but she’s told Ruth that she’s having nightmares about the underground room and Hugh Baxter’s soft voice urging suicide. Ruth finds it both stressful and touching to be receiving confidences of this kind. Is this what it means to be a sister? Simon has never confided in her and most of her friends have families of their own. Now Ruth has gained another close family member. It’s rather a responsibility.
Ruth told Simon of Zoe’s existence via Zoom. It was another one of those occasions where the discussion would have been easier face to face. Ruth looked at her brother’s baffled face on the screen and wished she had been able to give him a hug, or at least a hearty pat on the back. It’s been a hard time for Simon. Covid turned out not to be a government conspiracy and he’s locked down at home with his wife and adult sons. No wonder he looks greyer than when Ruth last saw him.
‘Mum had a daughter,’ he kept repeating. ‘Before I was born.’
Ruth was glad when Cathy appeared beside Simon. ‘These things happen,’ she said briskly.
‘You’ll like Zoe,’ Ruth assured Simon who, foregrounded against his record collection and abandoned teenage acoustic guitar, suddenly looked rather pathetic.
‘Does Dad know?’
‘No,’ said Ruth. ‘I think we should tell him later. When we can see him in person.’
