Page 36 of A Miracle on Hope Street
I close my eyes.
‘Molly, please listen to me for a second,’ I say to her. ‘I know you’re scared and I know you’re embarrassed to be telling anyone your business but it’s so good to talk and get it out of your system.’
‘I’m so scared, Ruth.’
‘I know you are, love, I know. Look, it’s okay to ask for some advice and that’s all you were doing when you wrote to me. I’m a very ordinary person with fears and feelings and worries just like everyone else, just like you,’ I say to this stranger, looking across the café at another very handsome stranger who, no matter how many times I look at him, is looking at me in return. ‘I’d like to invite you and your family for dinner, just like I said in my email. Nothing more, nothing less, just some company, maybe even some carols and a bit of good food to lighten the financial load. It should be a nice distraction from some of the pressures you describe in your email to me. What do you think? Will you come? You, Jack and little Marcus?’
She lets out a strange sound that I can’t identify as laughter or a frightened sigh.
‘I . . . well, um thank you so much but, I . . . can I think about it, Ruth? I just need to talk to Jack. You know, maybe he has something else in mind,’ she mutters eventually.
‘Of course,’ I reply. ‘I totally understand.’
‘No, actually that would never work. I can’t tell him I contacted you, I just can’t,’ she continues. ‘He’s such a proud man and he’d think we were some sort of charity case if we accepted your invitation. You know what men are like, they don’t seem to worry as much as we women do. He thinks it will all blow over and it will all be fine.’
‘And will it?’ I ask her. ‘Will it blow over and all be fine?’
She pauses.
‘No,’ she says, her voice dropping again. ‘No, there is absolutely no way it will all be fine. We haven’t even enough money to make the weekly bills, never mind the impossible extras that come with Christmas. There is no way it is going to be fine. None. I’m living on the edge of my nerves, Ruth. It’s like I’m in some sort of tornado and I’m just being sucked in deeper and deeper.’
At the thought of that she starts to cry.
‘Oh darling!’ I say to her. ‘Look, how about we meet up in person first? Would that make things easier? Would it make it more real?’
The poor woman can barely speak between sobs.
‘I could take Marcus to the park,’ she says eventually. ‘He loves the park. It’s cold outside but I’ll wrap him up and maybe we can talk more then?’
I smile at the slightest hint of hope in her frail voice.
‘I’ll see you there shortly,’ I tell her. ‘You mean the park where—’
‘The one with the butterflies,’ she says and it’s exactly what I’d hoped she would. It’s the biggest park in town and the one right beside where I live. ‘Can you give me an hour?’
‘I’ll see you then,’ I tell her, then I say my goodbyes and let out a deep sigh when I hang up the phone. I look for Michael and he is right there beside me.
‘You okay?’ he asks me.
I take a long breath in and out again and attempt a shrug.
‘It’s so hard when you hear what some people are going through at this time of year,’ I say with a sigh. I rub my temples. ‘That was a tough one.’
‘Want to fill me in later?’ he asks.
‘Later? Where?’
‘I dunno,’ he shrugs. ‘Dinner somewhere? Nothing fancy, like, and not a date either, before you go all funny.’
I manage a smile. I’ve heard enough misery and pain for one day so I’m going to grab this chance of distraction, even if it’s just someone to spill my thoughts out to.
‘Text me later and I’ll meet you somewhere,’ I say to him, feeling a rush of adrenaline again when I think of the Christmas dinner, even if I’ve a hunch there are going to be a few hurdles before we get that far. ‘What a day!’
Chapter Sixteen
I wipe the seat of the swing in the park with the sleeve of my coat and sit down, unable to resist using my feet to push the swing back and I marvel at the sensation of floating through the air, which brings back all sorts of childhood memories.
‘Higher, higher,’ I used to call to her and she’d mutter in Italian as my sister squealed with delight at the dizzy heights I’d reach with no fear whatsoever. I pull my lower legs in and then push them out straight and within seconds I can see over the top of the hedges that surround the park every time the swing reaches new heights and in the near distance I can see the top floor of our family home, looking down on me, looking sadly down on me, and a tear falls from my eyes as I wonder why I am so keen to let this all go.
