Page 61 of Waiting for a Bright New Future

There was a pile of five finished books at his side when he became aware of the mothers trying to encourage the children back to their feet.

“That was fantastic.” The librarian gave him a little round of applause and the children joined in.

“Would you fancy doing this on a regular basis? As a volunteer? It would really help us out.”

“I . . .” It took a moment to reorientate himself back into his true identity. “Was IreallyOK?” The time had flown by. Stuart had been as immersed in the stories as the children.

“More than OK!” The librarian grinned and the last mother to leave gave him a thumbs-up. “There’s some paperwork of course, but if you’re interested. . .”

It felt as though someone had pinned a medal of achievement on his chest and he’d grown a couple of inches. “Yes, I think I would like to do it again.”

* * *

Stuart’s weeks began to gain some structure. It was the dawn of a future that might become bright enough. Thursday mornings meant story time and every day he checked on Lillian immediately after his lunchtime visit to William. There was still no contact from Florence but without knowing where she was, it was impossible to do more than keep sending the odd text with a photo of Tibby.

Checking on Lillian had become a habit despite what he knew of her wishes; it seemed the least he could do if he was eventually going to be part of the family. Besides, he liked the old lady’s company. He made her a cup of tea and a sandwich. She was appreciative of his time and, mostly, was capable of sensible, if repetitive, conversation with the odd spark of the lady he’d grown up knowing as ‘Aunty’.

One afternoon she talked a lot about Jayne and her regret at having had only one child. “She has to carry the burden of me alone. And because she’s no children and no husband, she’s got no one else to lean on. Have I ruined her life because I didn’t give her brothers and sisters?”

“No. Of course not. I have two brothers but they’ve been of no use to me.”

“I don’t want Jayne to have the same empty life you had. Don’t let that happen, will you?”

For a while, Lillian gazed silently over Stuart’s shoulder at nothing. Then she smiled and spoke brightly. “You didn’t take me shopping.”

“What?”

“With the money from the computer to buy Jayne’s birthday present.”

He couldn’t burst Lillian’s bubble by explaining the birthday had gone and he’d forgotten about the shopping trip. “I’ll take you soon.”

Chapter Thirty

Stuart cycled every day now, except Thursdays when he was at the library. It was a safety valve to the indecision building inside him. Between his breakfast and lunchtime visits to William and Lillian there was just time to pedal the fifteen miles to the quarry.

He’d sit by the edge of the water enjoying the late October sunshine and drinking hot milky coffee from his flask. It was the best place to find peace. Modern life had forgotten about the quarry. There was no traffic noise. No sirens. Mostly there was no other people, just the calling of birds and silence. Stuart became part of that silence, able to watch rabbits feeding for a full five minutes before they sensed he was there and disappeared into the undergrowth and invisible burrows.

Once he’d heard the persistent knocking of a woodpecker but when he tried to follow the sound the bird disappeared. From that he learned that the best antidote to twenty-first-century life was simply to sit still and absorb the atmosphere. He’d discovered a dryish spot for the damp, dismal days that heralded the arrival of autumn. A large holly bush had developed a dimple, creating a tiny cave-like shelter that kept off the worst of the wind and rain. Even in the bad weather, visiting the quarry was a tonic for Stuart’s spirits. The rain made the air feel extra fresh, clean and new.

When his time was up, Stuart let himself go as fast as he dared on the downhill sweep towards home and his next set of caring visits.

Tibby became more demanding. Launching herself into his lap as soon as he sat down. Refusing to use the cat flap if Stuart was there to get up and open the door. Becoming picky over food and refusing everything but premium brands. Perhaps she sensed her time in his home might be nearly up. All of this made Stuart’s mind wander increasingly to Florence and, specifically, what to do about Tibby, if and when he moved next door.

He discovered that Double Berry Black had a website and the website had a picture of Florence in her stage outfit. She looked younger but just as full of enthusiasm and energy. A greasy mark developed on the laptop screen where he ran his finger over her face. He read the biographies of all the band members and learned that Jim was the drummer. It had never occurred to Stuart that she was still seeing her husband so regularly. The biography also said Jim worked on the production line in a local biscuit factory, backing up the little information Florence had volunteered about him. He wondered if they were reunited now. How could they remain separated if they played in a band together every night? This thought worried him even though it was none of his business.

He dragged his mind away from what Florence might or might not be doing. He had to focus on his new life with Jayne and Lillian, his role at the library and his job with William. Part of that new life meant rehoming Tibby. He took a photo of the cat curled contentedly in sleep on the sofa and sent it to Florence. She’d ignored all his other messages but maybe this one would remind her that she couldn’t simply forget her responsibilities. He pondered for a long while over the words to go with the image; he wanted to get the tone light but caring in the way a friend might.

Tibby enjoying her sojourn chez Stuart. But all good things must come to an end and the brothers are waiting in the wings.

He checked his phone several times after pressing ‘send’ but there was no response. Perhaps his pathetic attempt at French had bamboozled her. He resent the picture with a simpler message:Tibby will need a new home soon. Please?He almost added a series of Xs in typical Florence-style but decided that would make him appear too forward, considering Florence’s self-imposed absence.

Still no reply.

To distract himself, he texted Jayne at work and told her he was taking her mother on a shopping trip. She responded immediately with a row of smiley faces. At least someone was taking notice of his messages. He drove Lillian to the out-of-town shopping centre and gave her twenty pounds of his own money to spend on Jayne.

“Perfume,” Lillian declared and they went into Boots.

Stuart loitered some distance away to give Lillian the illusion she was managing this on her own. After some time, she returned to him holding the twenty-pound note and looking crestfallen. “It’s not enough.”

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