HOPE

By Tessa Harvey

CHAPTER FOUR

Declan and Bridie had put some spare money by and had tactfully suggested they go shopping with Hope.

"I need more beer," grumbled Steve, but the other adults affected not to hear. He gave up. "You getting groceries?" "Some," was the answer, "Declan don't earn much."

"Bridie needs shoes, son," Declan stated firmly. "That's a priority." Steve went out, huffing a little. Still, even some groceries bought meant a little more for him.

He needed to shout his mates a return drink now and then to keep them sweet.

The taciturn, stolid landlord allowed absolutely no credit. He had the weight and authority to back him up. But still, it was a good pub and conveniently near for Steve.

He smiled. No worries!

At that very same time, Ayleen was receiving a phone call. "Are you able to talk to me, Mrs Carter? It concerns your daughter. My name is Leaf - or rather Phyllis Reynolds. Our family has just come to live near your daughter and her father. My daughter, Maya, is friendly with Hope."

Ayleen sat down, clenching the receiver so hard her knuckles were white. "Where, where is she? Where is Hope?" The poor woman felt she could hardly breathe.

"Quite a long way away," was the answer. "We noticed a remarkable resemblance between a boy we knew, Tom, and Hope. We found you through the local church. I am sorry if we have acted presumptuously, but Hope is not a very happy child."

"Does Steve hurt her?" was the anguished reply.

"Not physically. I am afraid he is not a good father, though." They talked for a while. "Could we meet," Ayleen finally asked. "I need to explain. I will get time off work. Thank you so much."

They arranged a day, and Ayleen put down the phone and sobbed. Suddenly her son stormed in. He had just come home from a football game and heard the entire conversation.

He was horrified and yelled, "Mum, when were you going to tell me? You must have known where dad was. And I have a sister? How could you, mum? I thought you cared about me. This is horrible."

He thumped to his room, went in and slammed the door so hard the house seemed to shake.

Ayleen sighed. What a mess. She had not done well and knew it.

She made herself a warm drink and waited for a while, then gently knocked on her son's door.

"Tom, I am more sorry than I can say and you are right. It was wrong to behave the way I have. Please let me in and we can talk about this and this is when I promise to be honest."

There was no answer, so Ayleen went back to the lounge, and glancing through the window saw a storm brewing. The clouds were grey-black and a few large drops of rain spattered the window glass. The wind was rising.

"Tom," she called, going back to his door, "I am just going to put the car away." 

She raced outside and stumbled over Tom's discarded football boots, falling hard and banging her head. She fell awkwardly, her wrist bent beneath her body and lay senseless whiled the rain washed blood from her head in a widening pool.