Eleanor Jones - A Home For Her Baby

When the service drew to a close, a profound silence filled the church, just before the family slowly filed out after the coffin. Tom looked so regal in his dark suit, so strikingly handsome and so very, very sad that Ali longed to just go to him and offer...what? He looked up as he passed her and caught her eye, holding her gaze as if expecting to find something there. Emotion flickered in his dark eyes and her whole body trembled; she couldn’t stay here, in Jenny Brown’s Bay, even if she wanted to, for she’d be a constant reminder to the Robert’s family, a knife in their wound.

When she watched him walk by, tall and straight and so...honest, she felt lost and alone. Being close to Tom was unbearable, for if she was honest with herself she knew that she wanted way more from him than he could give, and she had no right to anything.

Straight to the point as usual Lily had asked her outright why, if she was still married, she wasn’t with the husband.

And she realized Lily was right. So perhaps it was she who was lacking. Maybe she just wasn’t the kind of woman who could ever maintain a real relationship. She should focus on her career now. That’s what she needed to do. Journalism had meant everything to her once, after all.

Then she’d met her dad again and realized just how important family really was and how empty her life had become. Even her marriage had been almost a convenience that fit in around both she and Jake’s careers; perhaps that was why it had gone so wrong. Meeting and getting to know her dad had made her realize what she’d missed, made her see that if only her mum had been less bitter things could have been so different. Now it was time for her to back track and rethink everything.

Walking slowly out of the church without looking back, she cut along the edge of the graveyard and headed toward her car, trying to think of anything other than Bobby and Tom and all the pain she’d caused.

As she opened the driver’s door she sensed someone behind her.

“Ali...” came Lily’s voice. “Don’t go.”

With a heavy sigh she turned to see Tom’s sister standing forlorn in her beautiful dress.

“Your singing was beautiful, Lily,” she said. “You did Bobby proud.”

Lily beamed at her. “Thank you. Please don’t go.”

Ali shook her head slowly. “I have to, Lily. I’m in the way here.”

“But you will come back?”

Ali gave her a hug, holding her close. “I’ll try, Lily, I really will try.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

TOM WASN’T SURE exactly why he felt so empty inside when he saw Lily saying goodbye to Ali. After everything that had happened he should be glad to see the back of her, angry even that she’d dared to stick around.

When Ali held out her arms, hugging Lily close, Tom let out a sigh. She was wrong for him for so many reasons, quite apart from the stark fact that she’d caused his brother’s death. Anyway, there was no place in his life for a relationship right now Bobby drowning at sea had substantiated that fact. A fisherman’s life was way too unreliable and dangerous to expect any woman to share it.

It was good that Ali was leaving. Being around her held way too many complications... So why then did he still feel a sense of loss? There was just something about her he supposed...the way she held her head...the way her eyes crinkled at the corners when she smiled, and her intensity. Never had he met a woman so resolute about what she wanted...like the way she’d insisted on joining their ill-fated fishing trip. Her warm brown eyes had flashed with streaks of flame when they’d had their disagreement about that. Oh how he wished now he’d tried harder to stop her.

There again, he decided, maybe things happened for a reason and that was just how it was meant to be... Fate, he supposed it was. Something deep inside him wished that fate would bring her back one day. Common sense told him to be glad she was leaving.

* * *

IT WAS STRANGE to be driving through the city again, thought Ali. Car horns honking, people scurrying by, pale distant faces. Life was just so different in the country, particularly by the sea where the rhythm of the tide seemed to take over everything.

The town hall clock began to chime, shaking her from her reverie, one...two...three...four...five. She’d booked a hotel for a few days, close to the city center and the offices of the paper where she worked...or used to. Being self-employed she’d traveled around a lot but The Times had given her most of her work and Jason, the editor and her longtime friend, had been only too pleased to have a meeting with her when she’d rung him earlier. Nosing her way through the traffic she eventually found a parking place and with a relieved sigh she pulled her bags out of the trunk, locked her car and headed for her hotel. It was good to be back in the city, she told herself determinedly as she unlocked the door of her room and collapsed on the bed; hopefully being so far from Jenny Brown’s Bay would help her see her situation more clearly.

She ordered sandwiches in her room for dinner and went to bed early hoping that at last she might be able to get a good night’s sleep. Beyond her window the flickering lights and bustling sounds of the street made that impossible. She tossed and turned, longing for the gentle swish of the sea or even the moaning cry of the wind.

Jenny Brown’s Bay did seem like a million miles away, distancing her from the horror she’d left behind there. But was this really the answer, she asked herself, the way to get past what had happened...or was she just hiding from it? One thing she did know was that she missed the peace and tranquility of her cottage...missed it with an aching loneliness.

Ali finally gave up on trying to sleep at around five thirty and quickly washed and dressed, heading out into the city. Homeless people were waking up in doorways and under bridges, getting ready to face another day of struggling to survive. When she’d lived in the city she hadn’t really taken much notice of the early morning activity, now she found it sobering.

A young lad with lank greasy hair and shadows under his eyes crept up to her, holding out his hand. “Give us a break miss,” he said, his voice thin and reedy.

Ali delved into her purse and pulled out a handful of notes. “Promise me you won’t spend it on drugs,” she said.

“Don’t do drugs,” responded the boy. “Thanks miss. This money’ll get me back home.”

Feeling good about helping him Ali headed back to the hotel to get ready for her meeting with Jason. Maybe things would look up, she decided, as she showered and changed; maybe this was a new start.

By ten thirty she was out in the street again, dressed in a smart navy suit and heels; her shoes tip-tapped along the pavement as she headed toward the café where she was meeting Jason for coffee and a chat. She felt businesslike and professional, just like she used to before her priorities changed.

She saw the boy as she hurried across the street when the lights switched. He was just a blur in the corner of her eye but it was definitely him, handing money to a shifty looking man who passed him something in return. When she looked back they’d gone but she knew it had been the homeless lad from early that morning.

Stopping in the midst of the hustle and bustle of the street she shuddered deep inside, her freshly restored confidence draining away. All she’d done with her misplaced sense of benevolence was to push the lad more quickly down the road to nowhere. Now he could buy his drugs and maybe even die in a gutter tonight...so perhaps she’d killed him, too.

Ali didn’t hear Jason calling her name until he was standing right in front of her, tall and solid and comfortably familiar; they went back a long way, she and Jason, both as work colleagues and friends. “Ali,” he cried. “You were miles away and you look as if you’ve seen a ghost... Come on, I’ll buy you that coffee and you can tell me all about it.”