Eleanor Jones - A Father's Pledge

The voices inside her head that had shouted at her then, blaming her for her mother’s death, were now mostly just a whisper in her memory, except when the dreams came to haunt her as they had last night.

Those voices had been stilled by the soothing song of the sea on that awful day as she’d waited down on the shore for someone to answer her emergency call. Her quickly fading footprints in the sand had made her feel invisible, bringing comfort. But she hadn’t truly been invisible because the paramedics had soon found her, speaking in quietly caring, low, soothing tones that held a hushed urgency. How long have you been your mother’s carer? Do you have any other relatives? Where does your father live?

She’d screamed at them to shut up, her hands clamped tight across her ears. They’d shared concerned glances, raised their eyebrows and whispered behind their hands. She’d been totally ignorant about the world, totally ignorant about death and totally unaware that her mother had been suffering from depression for over five years—since her father left.

Today, the bay was sparkling and serene, so beautiful that it took Kat’s breath away. She’d been afraid of the sea for a while after her mother died, for it was so closely linked with the day she’d found her body...and yet, deep down, she’d yearned for it, too.

It had taken five years for her to finally pluck up the courage to visit the coast again, believing that just being back in its awe-inspiring company would rekindle all her heartache, guilt and anger. She couldn’t have been more wrong. As soon as she’d gazed across the sweep of the bay to where the sea and sky became one, and breathed in those familiar scents, with the buffeting wind in her face and droplets of water on her skin, she’d known that the sea was still her friend, wild and beautiful and sometimes dangerous, but always dependable. And then she’d known that she should never have been afraid of going back to the coast, for her mother’s illness had had nothing to do with this place at all.

Jenny Brown’s Bay shimmered ahead of her now, serene and tranquil for once; it felt all-forgiving.

“I’m sorry, Mum,” she cried out into the gentle breeze, raising her hands to the sky. “I let you down when you needed me, but I will make up for it, you’ll see.”

Trying to put the past behind her, Kat carried on walking. The memories clung and it occurred to her that perhaps she should be thanking her mother, for Kat’s childhood experiences had led her to become what she was today, someone who could, hopefully, make a difference in the lives of children who needed support and guidance.

She took a deep breath and studied the flow of the rippling tide. Its changeless rhythm intrigued her, for although the ocean could often be terrifying in its ferocity, it was also consistent. No matter what was going on in people’s lives, the tide continued rushing up to the shore and flooding back out right on time; the sun still shone, the rain still fell and all the creatures in the world went about their daily lives following nature’s call without question.

That was what she loved about nature and animals: durability. Which was what had made her decide to develop her specialized therapy. Children who had no stability in their lives gained strength and confidence from their seaside sessions. She’d seen it time and time again, and Kat firmly believed that nature could teach most people a thing or two, if they only took note. Pity Luke Travis didn’t spend more time taking note of what her courses were about, she thought, instead of being so negative and critical.

It was late afternoon before Kat arrived back at Flight. The big, stone-built house must have once been some wealthy person’s country residence. As she approached, it stood tall and square against the brightness of the sky, its windows sparkling in the sunshine. It was a beautiful house, a wonderful place for the children here to call home. For many of them, Flight was the only true home they’d ever known. It was well run, too, with a great team. Tim Ellison, the principal, had a cottage on the grounds, while Mike Thomas, head of children’s care, lived on-site with his wife, Gwen, who worked alongside him.

Most of the other carers, therapists, teachers and cleaners lived locally, including the general manager, Wayne White. Luke was Wayne’s assistant and he lived on-site, as did Kat, though she was on the lookout for a place of her own.

Kat deeply respected Mike and Gwen, particularly since they often spent time with the children in the main house. She liked the way they went above and beyond their job descriptions, helping make Flight feel like a real family home. The layout also helped with that, featuring single and double bedrooms for the kids and a large, comfortable communal living room, two smaller sitting rooms, a dining room with one huge table and a massive kitchen, where anyone could eat or snack or just sit near the stove. Alice, who came in daily to organize the cooking, was usually to be found there, along with one or two of the other kitchen staff.

Kat and Luke had small apartments in a new annex at the rear of the house, but as they both had private doors into the garden, their paths rarely seemed to cross. Apart from a brief, cordial conversation when she’d first arrived at Flight, Kat hadn’t had much to do with him. A brief nod as they passed in the hallway or the odd polite comment was about the only interaction they had had...until Ben arrived. Ever since, Luke seemed to have taken it upon himself to interfere with everything she did.

Kat had been working at Flight for just over a week when Mike had called her to his office to tell her that a new pupil, Ben Jackson, was arriving that afternoon and would be assigned to her for counseling. As usual, Kat had wanted to know as much about the boy’s background as possible and she’d spent time before he arrived looking through his notes and questioning Mike. Ben’s grandparents were his guardians, but his grandmother, Mollie Jackson, had been struggling to care for him properly after his grandfather had fallen ill. Ben had become cheeky and disobedient, as well as regularly skipping school or refusing to go at all. The elderly lady had been at her wit’s end, so when Ben’s social workers had suggested sending him to a special school, she’d agreed. She’d selected Flight because that was where Ben’s father worked. The father he had hardly ever seen.

Mike had emphasized the importance of treating Ben like any other child at Flight. The plan was for him to get to know his father gradually without making a big deal of the relationship. They didn’t want the other kids to sense favoritism or feel excluded, but preventing Ben from getting to know his dad could be detrimental to him as well.

When she’d found out that Ben’s father was Luke Travis, Kat was surprised, to say the least. Luke was thirtyish and single, as far as she could make out. Not even the staff, who had known him since he first came to Flight as a general office lackey, had a clue that he had a son. Apparently, he’d never mentioned the boy to anyone in the years he’d spent working up to assistant manager.

Kat’s first meeting with Ben had been unproductive; he had refused point-blank to answer any of her questions and he exuded anger, an anger that she knew hid loneliness and fear. One thing was for sure: Ben Jackson was one very mixed-up little boy, and the more she could find out about his background, the easier it would be to try to help him.

She’d even tried to talk to Luke, shortly after Ben arrived, but it had been like talking to a brick wall. Luke didn’t seem to know anything about his son and he’d flatly refused to discuss how they’d become estranged. Perhaps now, though, after yesterday’s fiasco, she should approach him again. If she asked for Luke’s help, maybe it would break the ice a bit. What Ben needed right now was calmness and stability, and his father arguing with his counselor was definitely not the way forward.