Living with Shadows (40 page)

The room was stuffy and Tommy asked if he could open a couple of windows. Given the word, he jumped up from his seat, put his hand through the bars and twisted the catch. The windows were tall and narrow, just wide enough for an arm to fit through, and glazed in a thick, durable plastic for obvious reasons. A fresh breeze drifted in and the men settled down. It was about two minutes into the lesson when Andy jumped up from his seat swishing the air with his folder like a demented swordsman. Next, Action Man was on his feet, followed by two or three others, all jumping around like crickets. Kate could hardly believe that these so called macho criminals were running around the room to escape a tiny wasp.

‘If you keep still, it won’t bother you,’ she told them trying to restore calm.

‘No way! I was stung by a wasp once and it bloody hurt,’ Andy said darting to one side as it circled around him.

‘Not as much as a jellyfish,’ Action Man, chimed in. ‘Got stung in the Azores by a jellyfish once. It give me ‘ell for days.’

‘Ouch!’ someone cried out.

Tommy whipped around. ‘Did it get you?’

‘No. I was just thinking I wouldn’t fancy getting stung in the Azores.’ Action Man stuck two fingers up at him.

‘That’s nothing compared to the sting I once got.’

‘What’s that, Tommy?’

‘A red ‘ead. Fifteen grand she took me for. I wouldn’t want to experience pain like that again.’

There was a burst of laughter and Tommy was about to elucidate when there was a loud THWACK. He turned his folder over to reveal a gooey black and yellow striped mess. ‘Aw, shall I put it out the winder, Miss?’

‘I’d like to get on with the lesson, if you don’t mind.’ Kate said firmly.

‘I’ll just tell ‘em ‘ow I got stung.’

‘You’ll sit down and shut up for once,’ she yelled, feeling a rush of colour to her cheeks as everyone turned to look at her. Michael was grinning. He seemed quite pleased that Tommy had been put in his place at last. Even Michael, usually so in tune with her moods, didn’t seem to realise there might be another reason for her tetchiness. It was a good thing too. She didn’t want anyone asking her questions and just wanted to get the morning over with.

It came as a great relief when the lesson ended. She quickly went around the room gathering up folders and giving brief responses to their comments. Soon the room emptied except for Michael and once they were on their own, she realised he did suspect something was wrong.

‘How did the wedding go? Only you seem a bit down.’

Kate continued to tidy up without looking at him. ‘Oh, I’m just tired. It was a bit of a hectic weekend.’

‘I kept thinking about you and hoping everything went off OK. I expect you cried in church. All women cry at weddings.’

She managed a half hearted smile. All women might cry at weddings but she couldn’t imagine they cried for the same reason she had.

‘You were lucky with the weather, weren’t you?’

‘Yes, it was a lovely day.’ She suddenly felt a desperate urge to get away from him. ‘Look, Michael, I have to dash . . .’

‘Before you go, I need to give you this. I was bored so I wrote some stuff for you.’ He pushed a wad of folded paper towards her.

‘Right . . . thanks.’ She picked it up and looked at it. There was something she had to say to him. ‘Michael, I’m not sure you should do this anymore. Some of the things you tell me . . . well, I’ve told you before, they’re not the sort of things I had in mind when I asked you to write down your experiences.’

Michael studied her for a moment before answering, a wry smile on his lips. ‘You know how easily I get carried away. I don’t mean to but it just all comes out. Anyway, you never said anything about that last stuff I wrote. In fact, you said some of it made you laugh.’

‘I don’t remember. Anyway, think about what I’ve said, won’t you.’

A prison officer popped his head into the classroom checking for stray inmates. Michael’s expression turned solemn. Without another word he picked up his folder and quickly marched from the room like a child after a ticking off. That was the strange thing about Michael. Sometimes he could be quite mature and profound for someone with his background and lack of education and at other times he behaved like a sulky little boy.

On the way home Kate thought about Michael’s obsession with sex. Occasionally, a prisoner would attempt to strike up a discussion in class about something inappropriate. She knew the intention was to try and embarrass her but their efforts to make her squirm had no effect these days. She’d become immune to their sad humour. When they didn’t get the reaction they expected it would be forgotten, but not Michael; it sent his depraved mind into overdrive. Prison had given him the opportunity to explore, if only mentally, the wonders of sex within the limitations of his cell. By accepting his letters, she was not only encouraging these outpourings but also making their existence more thrilling because she, the object of his desire, was reading them and therefore, as far as he was concerned, sharing in his pleasure. She doubted whether he really expected an answer to his sex fuelled questions; in fact, he probably derived some sort of pleasure on the occasions when she reprimanded him for going too far, otherwise why keep writing in the same vein? For him, it was probably the closest thing to full on sex that he was likely to have. He wrote about sex as though he was writing about the weather, as though it was the most normal thing in the world to tell or ask her anything he liked. The only thing that makes a thing ‘normal’ is its acceptance. And it didn’t matter how many times she rebuked him or how many times he apologised, as long as she continued to accept his letters Kate knew nothing would change.

She was telling herself she needed to be stronger as she pulled onto the drive next to Jim’s van. She remembered he was taking Sharon to the station at some point today. It would be their first time alone since the discovery of his infidelity and she was dreading it. He would try and persuade her to stay with him but she didn’t know what she wanted. She needed time to think. Now would be a good time to put her new resolution into practice.

She entered the kitchen where Jade slowly heaved herself up from her bed and waddled over to say hello. She spent most her days lying curled up in her bed now. Kate stroked her ears and spoke softly to her. She wagged her tail in appreciation of the attention. Her muzzle had turned quite grey and her eyes now had a bluish cast to them. She was going blind and some mornings her back legs would be so stiff she had difficulty walking. Kate wondered how long it would be before she lost her. The days of walking her for miles had gone and today, especially today, she should have loved to have picked up the leash, turned around and walked straight back out to lose herself for hours in the countryside with her faithful companion.

From the living room she could hear voices and knew she must go in and face Jim and Sharon while keeping up the pretence that all was well between them.

‘Ah, Kate, you’re back. Sharon wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.’ He ignored the hostile look and continued. ‘I’m just slipping out to the shop. Louise is running out of nappies. I won’t be long.’

Take as long as you like, Kate thought, dropping her bag by the side of the settee where Louise lay fast asleep in her carry cot. She peered over at the tiny face above the pink blanket. ‘Has she been asleep long?’

‘About an hour. She should wake up for a feed soon.’ Sharon waited until Jim was out of the room before continuing. ‘Thanks for letting me stay here. Dad told me all about you before I came so I knew I’d be made welcome.’

‘No need to thank me. It’s been a pleasure meeting you, and Louise.’ Kate desperately hoped Louise would wake up now. She didn’t want to sit and exchange pleasantries with Jim’s daughter. What she really wanted to tell her was that her father was a lying, cheating rat, but she wouldn’t do that. No matter how much she was hurting, she couldn’t destroy someone else’s happiness. Sharon would go home none the wiser, for the time being at least.

‘I expect Dad told you about the christening in January? We’d love you to come down for the weekend. Like I said to Dad, we haven’t the room to put you up but a few of our guests are staying at the hotel in the village. I could arrange to book you a room there, if you like.’

‘We’ll have to see . . . it depends . . . I usually see to my mother at weekends. I’m sure Jim will be able to make it though.’ It was the first Kate had heard of it, although it was hardly likely that now would be the time for Jim to bring up the subject of a forthcoming family celebration. All the same, she wasn’t at all happy that he hadn’t given Sharon some indication that it was unlikely she should go. She was conscious of her hesitant reply and had an urgent desire to leave the room. ‘Would you like a drink,—tea, coffee?’

‘Yes, thanks. Coffee, please, if it’s no trouble.’

As she made the drinks, Kate racked her brains for something to talk to Sharon about. Everything that came to mind seemed stilted. This awful business with Jim had knocked her confidence and made her feel ill at ease around people. She felt as though she was transparent and everyone could read what was going on inside her head. She returned to the living room in a state of anxiety.

Sharon held out her hands and took the cup from her. ‘Thanks.’ They sat in silence for a few moments before Sharon asked, ‘Does your mother live alone?’

‘Yes. My father died several years ago and then my brother last year. That was quite a blow to her, to all of us.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry.’

Kate spoke quickly and without thinking to alleviate Sharon’s awkwardness. ‘We look after her between us, my younger brother and sisters.’ Immediately, she realised her words pretty much negated her excuse for not attending the christening. She cursed inwardly. The silence filled the room and Kate was aware of the sound of her own breathing, the sipping of her coffee. Mercifully, there was movement and a soft gurgling from the cot as Louise began to stir from sleep.

Kate leaned forward and looked into the cot. Louise punched the air with her tiny fists and her head moved from side to side, searching for something to satisfy a need that she could not possibly understand. This helpless little baby, safe from the weight of the world, would eventually, like the rest of us, suffer the pain of existence, she thought. Reaching inside the cot, she took hold of Louise’s hand. ‘She’s beautiful,’ Kate murmured.

‘Pick her up if you like. I’ll just go and warm up her feed.’ Sharon said this with sufficient warmth in her voice to disperse Kate’s anxiety in an instant.

Gently, Kate picked up the struggling infant and held her close. Her little face was full of contortions and her tongue sucked against soft pink lips. This was pure innocence she thought to herself, unsullied by worldly vices or troubled relationships.

She was vaguely aware of the sound of the front door opening and closing before Jim walked in with his purchases. ‘Everything all right?’ he asked, glancing around the room.

‘Why shouldn’t it be?’ Kate answered without taking her eyes from the baby. ‘I have no grievance with either Sharon or Louise.’

Now they were on their own, Kate kept out of Jim’s way. She had moved into one of the spare bedrooms and spent most evenings up there with the radio or portable television for company while Jim sat alone downstairs in the living room. He had all but given up trying to talk her round since she had made it perfectly clear she had nothing more to say to him. But that didn’t stop her wondering what he was up to and whether he had resumed his affair with Mrs. Duncan. The lack of communication between them bred uncertainty and created an even wider gulf, if that were possible.

She had been mistaken in her belief that their attempt to conceal their strained relationship had fooled Sharon; either that or Jim had mentioned something. Before she left, Sharon managed to get Kate on one side and apologised again for the fact that her husband Keith had been unable to come to the wedding—he’d been brought down by a bad attack of ‘flu. And then, with a hint of diffidence, she had taken hold of Kate’s hand and whispered that she couldn’t help noticing there was an atmosphere between them and sincerely hoped they would find a way through it. Kate had been rendered speechless. She asked herself whether it was impertinent of Sharon to have mentioned it or whether they were at fault for making their problems so apparent in front of a guest. What did it matter? Kate doubted whether she would ever see Sharon again.