The Broken Man Part 15

'Because there might be a new foster family coming to see me.'

'Really?' Phil gave a sideways wink at Polly. 'Well now, and if they were coming to see you, how would you feel about that?'

Adam gave a little shrug of the shoulders. 'I don't know.' Beyond that, he would not be drawn. After enduring the previous fostering experience, he had grown very wary.

Polly had said very little up to that point, but now she said, 'Try and keep an open mind, Adam. One bad experience does not mean you won't be placed with a good, loving family. In my experience, there are more decent, deserving people out there than there are bad ones.'

While Phil readily endorsed her comment, Adam kept his silence, and brooded on his dark memories.

Though, everything else aside, he was greatly excited about seeing the little dog.

The new family would be bound to ask him questions, and he must answer truthfully, even if it put them off choosing him to be part of their family.

Miss Martin had advised him to ask questions of his own, but Adam decided that he would know anyway if they were kind people and truly wanted him. And, because he had yearned to be part of a real family, he desperately hoped that at long last it might really happen.

More importantly, today was a special day because it was the day when Phil took him to the churchyard to see his darling mother.

Just as Adam was thinking about her, Phil drew him back from the kerb. 'Mind out, son. The bus is here.'

When the bus arrived, Phil saw Polly on, then Adam, then himself.

'Now then, Adam,' he said, 'being as we haven't got much time, we'd best make it hot-foot to the florist and get your mum's posy. Then we'll walk up to the churchyard and spend a few minutes there. After that, we should still have time enough to treat ourselves to an ice cream and a sandwich.'

He consulted Adam and Polly. 'How does that sound to you folks?'

Adam agreed that it was a fine plan and, by way of approving, Polly insisted on paying the bus fares.

At the florist's shop, Adam chose a small posy of pink flowers.

'Mum always liked pink best of all,' he told Phil and Polly, who had already learned that from previous visits to the florist.

The florist was a round, smiling woman who always wore green. On more than one occasion, Polly had innocently remarked on how much the florist resembled the flowers, 'all pink and green and wearing a smile'.

Her description brought a little chuckle from the other two.

The florist wrapped the posy in a cornet of stripy paper and tied it with a big floppy bow. 'There!' She was well pleased with herself. 'That's a very pretty posy, even if I do say so myself!'

The churchyard was just a short walk up the hill. When they got to the top, Phil was puffing and panting, with Polly, sprightly as ever, springing ahead. 'You need to do a bit of exercise,' she told Phil, 'get some of that fat off your belly.'

Adam burst out laughing, while Phil replied haughtily, 'I'll have you know, I do a lot of walking and lifting, and I drive a bus full of sprightly children. If you ask me, that's more than enough to keep a fella's weight down!'

Smiling secretly to Adam, Polly took the hint to drop the subject, while Phil took her comment on board and vowed not to beg any more of the children's sweets.

As always, whenever Phil had taken him to the churchyard, Adam ran ahead. Before the other two had even reached the top of the hill, Adam was running down the path to the church entrance, and then through the shrubbery to the pretty green area where his mother lay.

Dropping to his knees, he told her in a whisper, 'I'm here to see you, Mum. Look, I've brought you flowers. Phil's with me ... and Polly from the home.' He placed a kiss on his fingers and pressed it to her name etched in the stone.

A few minutes later, seeing Adam kneeling there, Phil stopped in his tracks. 'Happen we should stay here for a while. Let the boy have some time with his mum.'

For the slightest moment, Polly was torn between compa.s.sion for the boy and her duty to Miss Martin.

Compa.s.sion won the day. 'Yes, we'll wait here.' She smiled up at Phil. 'Besides, it's so pretty here ... don't you think, Phil?'

Phil nodded. 'Pretty it might be, but only for visiting.' He gave a little s.h.i.+ver. 'I'm not ready to overstay my welcome, at least not for some long time yet.'

Polly wagged a finger. 'If you feel like that, then it's more reason for you to lose some of that belly.'

Phil patted his stomach. 'You might be right, but it won't be easy. I've had this belly for a while.'

'There you go then! Cakes and sweets and sticky buns won't help, will they?'

'How do you know I've got a soft spot for sticky buns?'

'Because it's what you order every time we take Adam into a cafe.'

'That's only once a fortnight or so.'

'Hmm!' Polly gave him a knowing look before seating herself on the nearby stone wall.

Having placed the flowers, Adam told his mother in a whisper, 'He can't hurt you any more, Mum. And now he's been put away.' Leaning forward to wrap his two arms around the memorial stone, he whispered, 'I kept my promise, Mum, but it's hard. I peeped in the newspaper and it said he had hurt this other woman. But they caught him, and he was put in jail, and I hope they never let him out.'

The tears were never far away and now he could not hold them back. 'I hate him! He took you away from me and now everything's changed.'

Wiping his eyes, he told her sternly, 'Sometimes when I'm in bed and I think of what he did to you, I want to hurt him ... to kill him ... I really do!'

When the memories became too hard to bear, he cried, because he was sorry, and because he was frustrated that he could talk to his mum but he didn't know if she could hear him. He wanted to see her pretty smile. He wanted to feel her hand over his, and he so wanted to hear her laughter ... and see her as she suddenly raced him to the top of the hill when they had been walking out together.

'Oh, Mum, I miss you so much. I will love you ... for ever and ever, Mum ...' His voice broke beneath the weight of his sorrow, and he could say no more.

Just then, he felt Phil's loving arms about him, lifting him up to his feet and holding him close. 'It's all right, son. It's all right to feel angry, but wanting to kill someone is not the answer. And besides, I have no doubt he'll get his just deserts in prison.'

'Do you know what, Phil?'

'What, son?'

'I hate him! I want to hurt him, like he hurt my mum.' Adam clung to this man who had brought such comfort into his lonely life.

'I understand that.' Phil searched for the right words. 'But ... like I said, it's not good to harbour thoughts of killing ... Your mum would never want that, and you know it, don't you?'

When Adam was slow in responding, he asked again, 'Adam, you do know it's very wrong to think of killing, don't you?'

'Yes.' There was a span of silence, before Adam angrily announced, 'I hope they treat him badly in prison. I hope he's really unhappy, just like he made my mum unhappy.'

'Ssh, now.'

Phil held him for a time, while Polly could only look on helplessly.

Over her years at the home, she had seen many friends and do-gooders who might occasionally give a much-needed treat to one of the children at the home. But she had never before witnessed such devotion as she had seen between Phil and the boy. He was more than a friend to Adam. He was more like a father figure. And the love that had grown between these two was humbling to see.

Polly understood how Adam had flourished under Phil's protection. She had long realised that Phil was one of those selfless men warm and giving who asked for nothing in return.

She realised it was not too hard to love a man like Phil because, in truth, whenever Miss Martin asked her to accompany Adam and Phil on a trip to town, her heart would turn over. And that had not happened these many years.

A short time later, the three of them made their way down the hill, with Polly walking beside Phil, and Phil keeping a protective eye on Adam.

'All right, son?' Phil playfully ruffled Adam's hair. 'Ready for your ice cream, are you?' After years of coping with the children on the school bus, Phil had a natural way of diffusing a bad atmosphere.

'Yes, thank you, Phil.' Having talked with his mum and rid himself of bad thoughts, Adam was calmer.

'How about you?' Phil turned to Polly with a smile. 'Are you ready for your ice cream?'

'Yes, please, Phil. I'll have a double dollop of strawberry with chocolate sprinkles on top.'

Phil and Adam laughed out loud at that.

'Huh!' Phil tutted. 'And who's been lecturing me to watch my belly, eh?'

'I tell it as I see it,' she retorted with a cheeky little grin.

'There! I always knew it.'

'What?'

'You're a bossy boots!'

Even so, Phil thought her to be a handsome, homely woman, and a fine companion into the bargain.

CHAPTER NINE.

'NO, ANNE!' SALLY pleaded. 'You're not ready to go back there yet. Please, stay here with us for a little longer. Just until you feel sure.'

Anne had thought about it more and more of late, and though she s.h.i.+vered at the idea of walking into that house again, she was determined that Edward Carter would not defeat her. 'But, I am sure, Sally. Well, at least as sure as I'll ever be, I suppose. Besides, I've put myself on you and Mick long enough. If I'm ever going back, the time is now.'

'But you're not strong enough in yourself.' Sally was worried. 'You still have the nightmares, and I know if you go back to where it all happened, it might be too much for you to handle. Please, Anne. Stay here, with me and Mick, for a few more weeks at least. If you're still determined after that, you can go home, and I'll come and be with you for a week or so, just to see how it goes.'

Sally knew only too well how deeply Carter's vicious attack had damaged her dear friend. It was only when she was checked over at the hospital afterwards that it was discovered two of her fingers were broken, and because of Carter's cruel handling of her, they found that some cartilage in her back had s.h.i.+fted, causing temporary damage to her spine. That meant an operation, and weeks of recovery back to full health.

Edward Carter, though, had not only damaged her physically, he had left her in such a bad state mentally that she was a mere shadow of her former self. It soon became clear that while the outward scars were healed, the same could not be said for her fragile state of mind.

In those first few months after she came to stay with Sally and Mick, Anne constantly teetered on the edge of a breakdown.

In the early days after the attack, she was afraid to go outside on her own. Instead, she would huddle indoors, unwashed, undressed, and unable to cope with returning to work.

At night, she could be heard pacing up and down in her bedroom, and whenever Sally took her out, she would never want to stay out long.

On the few occasions that Sally was successful in taking her into town, Anne would be nervously glancing about, watching people pa.s.sing, and hiding in doorways if she saw any man who bore even the slightest resemblance to Carter.

All that had now run its course, although even now, she was nervous to be out on her own, which was why Sally was anxious that she should stay with her and Mick for a while longer.

Presently, in the kitchen, making tea for the three of them, Mick heard the exchange between his wife and Anne. Like Sally, he was greatly concerned that Anne should give herself more time to recover before she returned to the house on Roff Avenue.

Having taken it all in, he now had the beginnings of an idea that might just satisfy everyone.

With this in mind, he quickly made the tea and set it on a tray with a box of biscuits, which he carried into the other room.

'I don't know who made me the servant around here,' he joked light-heartedly. 'It's Sunday! Which, as you know, is supposed to be a day of rest ... and here's me, waiting on you two hand and foot. Right then! I reckon I've done my ch.o.r.es for today, so now it's up to you lovely ladies. You can now pour a drink for the man of the house, while filling me in on all the gossip.'

He put the tray on the coffee table in the bright, s.p.a.cious room, and sat himself alongside Anne on the sofa, while Sally sat forward in the big brown leather armchair and set about pouring the tea.

'Mick, tell Anne she's not ready to go back to the house just yet,' she pleaded.

'Mmm. Well, I heard what you were saying just now, the two of you, and for what it's worth, I think you're both right.

'Really? In what way?' Sally asked.

'Well, from what I gather, Anne wants to go back to the house, and you want her to stay here. That's right, isn't it?'

'Yes, but Anne is determined to go home. I've been trying to dissuade her, but she won't listen.' Sally appealed to Anne. 'Anne, tell Mick what you told me.'

'I've been here for months now,' Anne explained. 'It's not at all fair on either of you. I've crossed hurdles since I've been here and that's thanks to you two, my best friends. I'm back at work now another hurdle overcome and I'm much stronger in myself now. But I need to go home and pick up my life. I really think I can do it. Sally and I have been going over once a week to open and shut curtains, turn taps on and off, and dust around ... that sort of thing. As you both know, I wasn't at all comfortable with being there at first, but I'm getting used to it now. I'm stronger in myself, and it doesn't frighten me like it did before.'

She appealed to them both. 'I'm sure I'll be OK, and if I'm not, I promise I'll call you.'

Understanding her dilemma, Mick offered his idea of a compromise. 'Look, Anne, what do you think of this idea? Sally is anxious for you to stay here with us for a while longer ... and so am I. You, however, are anxious to go home, and I fully understand that. But I would not feel right if I let you go back there on your own just yet. So why doesn't Sally come and live with you for a week? I'll pop in straight from work and spend the evening with you both.' He laughed. 'I'll even bring us all fish and chips on my way back from work; save you the trouble of cooking.'

'Brilliant!' Sally was relieved. 'In fact I suggested something along those lines.' She appealed to Anne. 'Please, Anne. I would feel a lot better about you going back to the house if you could agree on Mick's plan. Just one week, that's all, and if you feel able to take charge again, we'll back off, although we'll always be here if you need us.'

Mick added, 'Just remember, if you're the slightest bit nervous or worried about anything at all, however small then you come back home with us and give yourself a bit more time. The alternative is you and Sally could maybe just go over there at weekends a small dose at a time, if you get my meaning. That way, you might just reach the point where you feel good about being back home permanently. So, would you prefer that?'

Although still slightly nervous, Anne had to agree with his initial plan. 'I think it might be better to make it the full week as you said, because a couple of days won't be enough. So, if you really don't mind Sally coming to stay with me for that length of time, I would love to give it a try.'

Sally was already thinking ahead. 'I've got clean bedding and towels in the airing cupboard. When we leave work on Friday, we'll go shopping. We'll need to do a big shop: enough for the two of us for a week, and enough to fill the cupboards for Mick.'

'I'm quite capable of getting my own groceries.' Mick could be highly independent.

'I know you are, but while we're there we might as well do all the shopping in one go.'

'OK, Sal. Whatever suits you. So, when are you actually planning to stay at the house?'

Anne had already decided. 'I think we should go over there Sat.u.r.day. It will be much better to start on a weekend. That way there'll be more people about, and we won't be leaving the house to go to work. It will give us that time to adjust.' She felt as though she was being ungrateful. '... If that's all right with you, Sally?'