Three Letters (36 page)

When the tears ran down her face, they were not because of her own predicament, or her son being abandoned, or even the terrifying ordeal she had just gone through.

Her tears were for Tom. The man who had carried her through all the lonely years; the man who had provided a home, and protection from the harsh world. The man
who had raised another man’s child without knowing it; raised him with love and pride, and a sense of achievement, and even when he was told that the boy was not his, he still loved and protected him. He removed him from her wickedness, and kept him safe, in the only way he knew how.

In her vicious spite to hurt them both, she had destroyed everything Tom and the boy held dear.

The images of
Tom’s last moments haunted her. She saw him clearly in her mind, standing on the bridge, crippled with all manner of torment, before throwing himself under that train. And however anyone tried to tell her different, she knew that, deep down, it was she and she alone who had driven him to do such a frightening thing.

Suddenly it all became too much and the tears became an uncontrollable flood.
When she felt the woman’s arms round her shoulders, she had a desperate need to tell her things; private things that she had never told anyone.

‘Don’t feel sorry for me,’ she told her. ‘If you only knew the terrible things I’ve said and done … oh …’ Overwhelmed with grief, she held her head in shame.

‘Talk to me,’ the other woman urged her. ‘Tell me what troubles you.’ She patted Ruth’s hand.
‘You know what they say: a trouble shared is a trouble halved.’

So Ruth told her, and once she started, it was as though she had opened a dam and, even if she had wanted to, she could not stop.

She confessed everything: about the handsome young musician she’d met and fallen in love with all those years back. They were such precious memories, and she could see it all, as though it were only yesterday.

‘It was the most wonderful night of my life,’ she murmured. ‘I remember, it had been a beautiful, warm day … and the evening was magical. There was a beach party. I went with my friend Connie. Steve and I danced to the music, we were so happy, so right for each other. After the music stopped and the crowds vanished and Connie went back to our boarding house, it was unbelievably quiet except for
the sound of the sea lapping against the shore. And the stars! Oh, they were so amazing! Bright and twinkly, shining down … lighting our way as we strolled along the beach.’ She paused a moment, remembering, and wishing; and regretting what was gone for ever.

As she listened, Marilyn saw a transformation in Ruth. She saw how her eyes lit up, and her whole body relaxed. She saw how her smile softened. More than that, she saw the love in Ruth’s face, in her voice, and in her whole demeanour. And she felt her incredible loneliness.

It was obvious to Marilyn that the young man called Steve had been Ruth’s first, and possibly her only love. He had been
her soulmate; that much was obvious.

Unaware of the older woman’s intense interest in her, Ruth lost herself in the memories, talking in a whisper, as though to herself. ‘We walked along the beach, and it was like we’d known each other for all our lives. We talked about everything; what we liked and what we didn’t like. We swapped dreams and wishes. We talked a lot about music, and Steve told
me how, since he was a small boy, he had always wanted it to be his life.’

At this point, Ruth looked up into Marilyn’s eyes. ‘That’s where Casey gets his love of music,’ she said wistfully.

‘Who’s Casey?’

‘He’s my son … and Steve is his father. He plays the guitar just like his daddy … like he’s part of the guitar … like the music is inside him … and when he plays it’s almost as though his
life depends on it.’

Her thoughts strayed back to the past and the day she and Steve met. ‘I’ll never forget that night with Steve,’ she said wistfully. ‘We seemed to walk for ages, without seeing a single person. It was almost as though we were all alone in the world.’

‘It sounds idyllic.’

‘Oh, it was; it really was! After a time, we found a quiet corner of the beach, where we lay down together.
At first we were just looking up at the stars … saying how magical they were. Then he was holding me, and oh, Marilyn, I felt such love for him.’

‘I can believe that.’ Slightly envious because she had never known love of an honest kind, she was deeply moved by Ruth’s powerful emotions. ‘You obviously loved him then; and you love him still, I see that.’

‘You’re right, I do love him, with all
my heart. But I shouldn’t love him. I should hate him! He said he loved me, and then he was gone, and I never saw him again.’

She explained how Steve left Blackpool suddenly. ‘I found out I was carrying his child, and managed to get a message to him, but he never returned, and left her to face it all by myself.’

She had never truly got over him. ‘He went without even saying goodbye,’ she faltered.
‘After he’d gone, I tried to forget him, but I couldn’t.’

‘Was there anyone you could turn to?’

‘Only my friend, Connie.’

‘What about your family?’

‘I have no brothers or sisters, and my parents had more than enough troubles of their own, without me adding to them. Ours was a deeply unhappy home. Most of the time, it was like my parents didn’t even notice I was there. They were always at each
other’s throats, and half the time I had to take care of myself. They made promises they never kept, and many a time they didn’t even come home, so I was left on my own. In the end, I stopped trusting them, but I had a good friend in Connie. She was always there for me. I owe her a lot.’

She was made to think of the uncomfortable atmosphere at home, and was shocked to realise how she had created
that very same, destructive atmosphere in her own home, with Tom and Casey.

‘So, you told Connie that you were with child?’

‘I told her everything. She was my best friend. We grew up in the same street and we went to school together; we were always best mates. As soon as I found out, I went straight to her. She said I ought to get rid of it before I was too far on. I was surprised she told me
to do such a thing, especially when I still hoped I might be able to contact Steve somehow. Though I knew it would have been difficult, because we never swapped addresses, or anything like that.’

‘But how exactly did you tell him that you were carrying his child?’

Ruth smiled sadly. ‘It was thanks to my friend, Connie. She wouldn’t give up, you see. She said Steve had to face up to his responsibilities.
Eventually, she discovered where he was booked to play next, but the tickets were all sold. Connie said we would have to wait at the side door, and hope to catch him when the band came out after the show.

‘The day we were due to go, I’d been really bad with morning sickness. I felt tired and washed out, but I still wanted to face him with the truth. Connie wouldn’t have it. She said I was too
ill; that I should stay at home and get some rest. And to be honest, I was in no fit state to argue. So I wrote a long letter to Steve, telling him about the baby, and Connie took it to him for me. Connie promised that if she got to speak with Steve on his own, she wouldn’t leave until he’d read my letter.’

Ruth went on, ‘Connie didn’t get back until really late, but she told me the next morning
what had happened. Apparently, she did manage to talk with Steve as he came out of the stage door. She took him aside and gave him the letter, which he read under a streetlamp. Then she explained how I was, and that I needed to see him; that things had to be sorted out.’

She took a deep breath. ‘Apparently, he went crazy. He said he did not want to know. He claimed he could not possibly be the
father, because he and his mates had played cards all night long after their Blackpool show, and that he had witnesses to prove it. He said he didn’t remember Connie, and he didn’t remember me; and that if she or I ever tried to get in touch with him again, or make such scandalous accusations, we would pay for it dearly.’

In a broken voice, she explained, ‘Connie told him he was a liar and that
we would not let him get away with it. She was really angry. She said to me that he was nothing like the friendly man we’d met, and that the threats he made were very real. She wanted me to go after him and take it through the courts, but I said no. I knew I could never challenge him like that; especially when Connie told me that he had some very powerful people behind him. In the end, when I decided
to leave well alone, Connie agreed. She said I was well shut of him, and I should try and get rid of the kid if it wasn’t too late. That way, there would be no responsibility for anyone, and I could get on with my life.’

The older woman kept silent for a while, thinking. When she now spoke it was in a quiet, measured voice. ‘Well! If you ask me, she’s right in one respect; you
are
well shut of
a man like that. But, what about the baby? You didn’t take her advice on that, did you?’

‘To tell the truth, when I first found out I was pregnant, I did try to get rid of the baby, but I didn’t feel right about it, and anyway it didn’t work. I never told Connie or anyone.’

In reluctant tones, she admitted, ‘All this time, Tom had been in love with me – admiring me from afar, so to speak. I
needed a husband, and quickly, and he was ready and willing. Besides, he was a good catch, with a well-paid job. In no time at all we were married and when Casey was born it was easy to pretend he was a premature baby. Tom never suspected a thing.’

Marilyn made no comment. She was shaken by Ruth’s deliberate trickery, though it offered a glimpse of the desperation she must have felt at the time.

Ruth’s manner softened. ‘I know it was only one night with Steve, but I had fallen so head over heels in love with him, I knew I could never love any other man. It really hurt when he sent Connie away with anger and threats.’

‘It’s a pity you were not able to go and see him yourself.’

‘I know, and I think Connie was more upset about the way he treated me than she let on. I wondered if she was
tired of helping me with my troubles, because after Steve sent her packing, she was different; as though she blamed me for him threatening her … though she never said that.’

She distinctly remembered Connie’s mood changes. ‘Whenever we talked about Steve, she would change the subject, and later I suspected why she’d been so distant with me. Apparently, she was not all that settled in her own
life, though she never mentioned it to me.’

‘Really?’

‘It all came to a head some time later. I went round on the Saturday as usual – we used to go to the market and look for cheap bargains, but her mam said she wasn’t in; that she’d come home upset the night before. When Connie told them she’d been sacked from her job at Woolworths her parents blamed her for losing too much time off work. It
seems there was a big row. Then, the next thing I know, she’s packed her bags and gone to London, “looking for something better”, she told her parents.’

‘Were you surprised at that?’

‘I’m not really sure, though I was surprised she didn’t tell me. We used to tell each other everything, but not this time. I know now I was wrong to let her take my letter to Steve. It wasn’t fair on her to have
him threaten her because of me. I should have gone myself, no matter how ill I felt.’

‘But you said she offered because she was worried about you feeling poorly. You didn’t force her to go, remember that.’

‘But it was after her encounter with Steve that she seemed to change towards me. It was like she blamed me when he loosed his temper on her. After that, she hardly spoke to me. She didn’t
even want to go out anywhere with me, and when, at first, I told her I had not given up on contacting Steve, she said that I should accept what had happened; that he’d made it clear enough that he didn’t want to know, and how if I persisted on going after him, it would only bring me grief.’

‘Well, maybe she was worried for you … especially, as you say, he had already made some very nasty threats.’
In spite of Ruth’s obvious affection for this particular ‘friend’, Marilyn was not altogether convinced of Connie’s loyalty.

Ruth went on, ‘I think she really was worried about me, but I don’t suppose I’ll ever know for sure, because she’s never contacted me.’

‘You miss her, don’t you?’ She could see it in Ruth’s face and in her voice, whenever she talked about Connie.

‘Oh, yes, I miss her
a lot, but I wasn’t altogether surprised at her going. Connie was always ambitious, always sure that one day she would snag herself a millionaire and live the high life.’

Ruth recalled the last time she’d heard anything about Connie. ‘She didn’t write home for ages. Then her mam had a letter saying she was all right, and that she was doing well for herself. There was no return address, and she
never contacted me, and, according to her mam, she never even mentioned me. I was really sorry about that, especially as we had known each other all our lives.’

‘You must have been really hurt, when she cut you out of her life like that?’ Marilyn already suspected that Ruth was no angel, but she couldn’t help but feel a stirring of compassion for her predicament.

Ruth fell silent; her mind heavy
with hurtful memories, and bitter betrayals. Ashamed and afraid, she covered her face with her hands.

Believing that Ruth’s tears had been a long time coming, Marilyn made no comment. Instead, she lay a comforting hand on Ruth’s shoulders, and for a time, that was how they remained; each with her own thoughts. Each needing a measure of companionship.

After a while, Ruth looked up, the pain deeply
etched in her tear-smudged eyes. In a shaky whisper she confessed, ‘When Steve denied me, and then Connie left like that, as though I meant nothing to her … that was when the badness took hold of me. I lost my trust in people, and I told myself never to care for anyone ever again, because they would always hurt me.’

‘That’s a very sad thing to say, Ruth.’

‘Yes, I know that now. But the thing
is, I made myself be harder inside. I never let anyone get close to me again. And now, I’ve been wicked for so long, I don’t know how to be any different. I don’t know which way to turn, or what to do any more.’