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She couldn’t dispute the truth of what he said, but his other comment—that they could be friends, that they were equally vulnerable to one another—how true were they?
As she went upstairs she felt curiously empty, as though by telling him about Lucy she had somehow lost a part of herself. Why had she told him? To make him angry? To shock him? To gain his pity? She didn’t know the reason.
She wasn’t gone very long, and when she came back down she opened the kitchen door so quietly that it was several seconds before he realised she was back. He was standing in front of the window and she could see his expression quite clearly. There was a bleakness about his mouth that made something deep inside her ache, and then he saw her, and his expression changed, the bleakness hidden away.
‘Ready? Come on, then. We’ll collect the girls on our way.’
Not even the sparkling perfection of the blue and gold autumn day could alleviate the stunning shock of seeing the cottage by daylight.
Darkness had somehow softened the reality of the carn
age the falling branch had caused, but now, in the bright sunshine, nothing could disguise the huge hole in the roof, or the smaller one in the front wall. A pile of shattered roof slates lay in the front garden, the whir of saws as council workers busied themselves clearing as much of the mess as they could blurring into a dull, numbing sound as Claire stared helplessly at her home.
‘Wait here a moment.’ For once she didn’t move away as Jay touched her arm. ‘I’ll check to find out if it’s okay to go inside.’
It was too much of an effort to protest that he had no need to do these things for her—that she was perfectly capable of doing them herself. Instead she simply stood numbly where he had left her. Mrs Vickers came out of her house.
‘Thank goodness you weren’t here!’ The old lady shook her head. ‘My daughter came round last night after it happened. She wanted me to go home with her, but I wouldn’t. I’ve lived here all my life and I’m not moving out now,’
Jay came back. ‘It’s safe to go inside, just as long as we’re careful. I’ll come with you.’
Something strange had happened to Claire. She felt too numb to object to his assumption of control. Mrs Vickers offered to keep an eye on Lucy and Heather, and so, trying to conceal her inner trembling, Claire followed Jay into the house.
A film of dust covered everything, particles of it still swirling in the air, making her gasp for breath.
On the far side of the room was the small desk where she kept all her important papers. Her insurance policy was in it, and yet she found herself reluctant to move towards it.
‘You’ll need enough clothes to last you for quite some time. Pack as much as you can,’ Jay told her. ‘I’ll wait down here for you. Just give me a shout if you need help.’
Even in the midst of her shocked anguish Claire recognised his awareness of her need to be alone. She wanted to thank him, but somehow the words just wouldn’t come.
Her suitcases had once belonged to her parents. They were old and battered, and she filled them automatically, emptying drawers. Luckily most of Lucy’s clothes were stored in her own room.
Lucy’s room. Like a sleepwalker she dropped the pile of underwear she was putting in the case and walked slowly towards the other bedroom. The door was slightly open; she pushed it and walked in.
The two small beds were broken, crushed beneath the weight of the heavy branch. Dust and debris covered the once immaculate duvets that she had made with such love and care. Half a dozen or so slates had fallen through the roof and ceiling on to the beds.
She must have made a sound without being aware of it, because just as the full horror of what might have happened struck her and her body started to convulse in shocked waves of reaction Jay pushed open the bedroom door.
She had a fleeting glimpse of that same bleak expression on his face, intensified this time, and then she was in his arms, her face pressed against his shoulder.
‘Come on—it’s all right. They’re both safe, Claire. Nothing happened.’
She wasn’t aware of him as a man in those moments as she let her body absorb the strength of his; he was just someone who shared and understood her anguish.
‘But it could have done. I knew the roof needed attention. I … If something had happened, it would have been my fault!’
Hysteria built up inside her. She started to cry, hard, gulping sobs that tore painfully at her chest. She hadn’t cried for years, not since her parents died, but there had been no one to comfort her then, no Jay to hold her in his arms and tell her that everything was all right.
‘If you hadn’t been coming home this weekend! If …’
‘Stop it! I know what you’re going through. Do you think I didn’t go through hell myself when Heather went missing; do you think I didn’t hate and blame myself? Come on. Finish packing your things and then we’ll go.’
Suddenly she felt acutely self-conscious, and her body tensed within the protective circle of his arms. As though he sensed her feelings he released her immediately stepping back from her.
As he turned away he added casually, ‘If you know where your insurance policy is it might be a good idea to collect that as well. I could get my broker to have a look at it for you if you like. Sometimes they’re in a better position to bring pressure to bear than we mere individuals.’
He was being tactful, Claire knew, giving her time to recover herself. This emotional side of her nature was something she had held rigorously in check since the death of her parents, and the trauma of being raped and then discovering that she was pregnant had forced her to become even more self-sufficient. She and Jay shared that need to protect themselves from being hurt, she recognised as she finished her packing; in many ways they were alike, each sensing within the other a deep-rooted fear, hers of physical intimacy, his of emotional intimacy.
