Eleanor Jones - A Father's Pledge

“No more arguments?” she said with a shy little smile that he found quite intriguing.

“No more arguments,” he agreed.

As she walked away, he couldn’t help but notice her strong, determined stride, which belied the sensitivity she’d just shown. Maybe he should sit in on her next sea-therapy session, not to be critical but to try to understand where she was coming from. And who knew; getting involved might even help to break the ice a bit with Ben.

Feeling good about his decision, Luke headed for Wayne’s office to see what jobs were on the list for today. Wayne was sitting at his computer, frowning at the screen, his graying head tipped forward in concentration. He glanced up with a smile when he heard Luke come into the office.

“Oh, good. You’re here,” he said. “I need you to put in an order at the suppliers. Just check with Gwen first to see if there’s anything she needs. After that, can you make some calls to get the best price for rebuilding the fence at the back of the grounds? It could probably do with a temporary fix, too, if you have time. And the TV in the small sitting room is on the blink.”

“Not too many problems, then,” Luke said, smiling. His job was to support Wayne in any way he could and he’d come to realize that being assistant manager at Flight meant being up for almost anything.

When Luke had arrived at Flight in his early twenties to work as a general handyman, Wayne had taken him under his wing. In fact, Luke had lived with Wayne and Mel at their house in the village for the first few weeks, until the new staff annex was ready for him to move into. Since then the couple had taken it upon themselves to watch out for him. The assistant-manager position had actually been created for him. That was why he felt so guilty about keeping Ben a secret; Wayne and Mel had never said anything, but he could see that they were disappointed in him. He intended to make it up to them by helping make Wayne’s impending birthday the best ever.

Thinking about the smart little boat tucked away in the corner of Tanners’ boatyard, Luke couldn’t help but smile as he went off to complete the day’s tasks. It was Mel’s present to Wayne, but he’d helped her find it and spruced it up with some fresh paint. She was convinced that Wayne would love it; Luke hoped she was right.

* * *

KAT SPENT THE morning with the children’s therapy group for five-year-olds. She always found it hard when children so young had problems; it just didn’t seem right. How could anyone neglect or be cruel to such little kids?

Lucy Bell was a particularly heartrending case. She’d been taken from a squat in the northwest because her mother had been too spaced out on drugs to care for her most of the time. Left to fend for herself, she’d had little communication with others, and according to her social workers, she’d lived off scraps and leftovers and was rarely washed or dressed properly. Kat worked with her most days, just trying to get her to communicate, and this morning Lucy had smiled for the first time ever when Kat walked into the room. It felt like a breakthrough.

“Hey, Lucy,” Kat called. “Want to play a question game with me and Aaron?”

Lucy looked up from the pile of colored blocks she was playing with and nodded, her big blue eyes shining. “I like Aaron,” she said.

“And he likes you, too, Lucy,” Kat told her. “We all do. Now, who wants to be first?” Aaron put up his hand. “Okay, Aaron, what’s your first question?”

Aaron looked at Lucy for a moment; he knew this game well. “Which toy do you like best?” he asked.

“I like my dolly,” Lucy said, cuddling her lifelike baby doll close against her chest.

“Your turn, Lucy,” Kat said.

Lucy frowned. “Where’s your mummy?” she asked Aaron.

“She’s in heaven with the angels,” he replied, unfazed.

“My mummy’s sick,” Lucy told him. “That’s why they’re looking after me here.”

“Let’s play building,” Aaron suggested.

“We’ll use the blocks,” Lucy responded. “Come on. We could make dolly a house.”

Watching the children interact and develop confidence and positive social skills made everything worthwhile for Kat and reconfirmed why she loved her job so much. Spending time with the kids—talking to them, playing games and encouraging them to engage in the world around them—was how she spent most of her sessions. Her goal was to get to know each of them: what they liked, what made them laugh...and what made them cry. That was the hard part. Some of the kids had had such a hard time in their short lives that it made her mess of a childhood seem almost charmed.

When the session finished and the children went off to their classroom, Kat spent a few minutes tidying up the toys. Later this afternoon she was taking the six-to-ten group, and colored blocks weren’t as useful in getting them to open up.

Before that session, she wanted to give Ben a book about the sea she’d been promising to lend him; hopefully the book would capture his imagination and give him something to talk about. In one-on-one counseling he tended to be withdrawn and sulky, which she attributed to him having seen so many well-meaning social workers and therapists over the past few months. On the other hand, he’d been full of energy during the more informal sea sessions, winding up the other kids and causing trouble, but laughing, too.

Kat’s heart ached for him. It was clear to her that Ben just didn’t know who he was. His whole life had been turned on its head, and it probably seemed like everyone he thought he could believe in had let him down. Not to mention his dad’s appearance after nine years of silence. It would be hard for Ben to learn to trust again, and building a relationship with Luke was going to take a lot of forgiveness.

She glanced at her watch; he’d be out of class any minute. Kat grabbed the book and headed over to the new, chalet-style classrooms across the grounds, arriving just as the doors burst open. A stream of children came running out, but she couldn’t see Ben. When the crowd of kids had thinned and he still hadn’t appeared, she walked up the steps and in through the half-open door. Mrs. Selby, the math teacher, was standing by her desk, her cheeks flushed with anger, while Ben glared up at her. Kat noted his closed expression, which was more concerning than a tantrum or display of anger.

“What’s the matter, Mrs. Selby?” she asked.

Chris Selby turned her attention away from the boy, bristling with indignation. “It appears that Ben does not like math and he’s flatly refused to do any work at all today. All he has done is scribble all over his textbook. I’ve told him to take his workbook with him and finish his arithmetic questions before tomorrow. You can go now, Ben.”

Ben stood still, staring into space. “I said you can go,” she repeated.

When Ben ignored her, Kat stepped in. “I can deal with this if you like, Chris. I’ve brought him a book he wanted to borrow. I’ll make sure that he does his math—don’t worry.”

“Well, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure. You get off to your next lesson.”

After Chris left, Kat turned to Ben. “Now, what was all that about?”

“I hate math and I hate her,” he mumbled without looking up.

“Mrs. Selby just wants you to do well, Ben. And if you’re really struggling with math then perhaps I can have a chat with Mr. Ellison about getting you some extra help.”

“Don’t want extra help. Don’t want to do it at all.”

“Well, if you grow up not even knowing how to multiply and divide, you’re not going to get very far. Anyway, let’s not worry about that right now. Come on—it’s a lovely day and you have a break now, so why don’t we go out into the garden and I’ll show you the book I’ve brought.”