And Babs. An absolute diamond, her chatter and positivity lifted Robin up. Her little whirlwind, whooshing in, full of gossip and funny family dramas. Robin envied Babs, with easy-going Pete and her feisty brood who she adored and cared for like a clucky hen. And her big summer holiday with her group of friends where they drank and ate too much and lay by the pool doing bugger-all. It sounded like bliss.
But Robin also had things to be grateful for. A roof over her head, food in the cupboard, her health, because all of those, placed her well, allowed her to dedicate what was left of her life to Willow.
And that was where she was. While everyone else was getting to grips with the new way of the world, she would simply nurse her child. Forever. And that word, was like a punch in the gut.
Did forever also mean her and Edmund? Fighting the good fight. Her against him. Separate. No longer a team. The only reason she slept next to him was because all the bedrooms were occupied, and she needed to hear Willow if she called out.
Robin eyed the pile of ironing and realised that she didn’t just miss Babs’ incessant chatter; she missed her housekeeping skills, too. And she realised how mind-blowingly sick she was of the vicarage, and Edmund, and that she missed Arty so much, too much.
She needed company, not just a chat and a glass of wine at the graveyard wall with Babs, surrounded by bones and headstones.
And Facetime with Cris wasn’t enough, either, because she wanted her son there, not a thousand miles away because his father was a pious arsehole.
She needed… something, anything to break the monotony of being her. A glimmer of hope for Willow. To see Arty’s face and be able to touch it, touch all of him. Was it too much to ask? Maybe for a bit of help, even a miracle.
When her phone began to vibrate, a text message pinged onto the screen. Squinting her eyes she read the name. It was Babs, being Babs, lifting a wing, offering a place of safety to nestle on the hardest of days. A friendly ear and a hand to hold if she needed one. They would be round later, her and Gina, if that was okay. If she wanted company.
As tears blurred her eyes, Robin typed a message back, one simple word.
Yes.
AFTER
14 months later
July 2021
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
GINA
The soundof Henry the Hoover being dragged along the landing should have made Gina smile, but it didn’t. Neither did the sight of the tea tray, laid out with the biscuits she got in especially for Babs.
She’d thought having her guardian angel-cum housekeeper back would be a source of comfort; the familiarity of Babs’ presence and their easy routine had always been so.
Instead, it had heralded another era. A new order in their lives where most of the restrictions had been lifted and they’d been told to get on with their lives – and Jimmy had. Out the door like a rocket and eager to get back on track. And she could understand why he and much of society were embracing their re-found freedoms after the most dismal of times.
Parts of the country had been put into bands, forced back into isolation and when that didn’t work, everyone endured a stripped-back Christmas and two more lockdowns. Who could blame anyone for wanting normal? Even she did, would, if it hadn’t been for her discovery.
Her dogged determination to seek the truth and obsessive desire to prevent a catastrophe went hand-in-hand. You couldn’t have one without the other and she wished she could’ve turned a blind eye, feigned ignorance, and carried on regardless of what her gut was telling her.
It started just after Jimmy began venturing out, the odd trip into the city for a socially distanced meeting, more frequent site trips in the open air. But for the main, he kept his word and worked from home and Gina was able to breathe, believe that it was going to be okay.
She’d monitored the news channels for the whole of the previous year, rejoicing when travel corridors were closed and most of Europe swapped and changed lists, green to red, amber to green. Gina would’ve been glad if all of the world had been painted red, and a barrier of barbed wire erected around the coast of the UK to keep everyone out, especially anyone returning from Italy.
And she’d got her wish, the big man upstairs had been listening but now, thanks to vaccinations and PCR tests, the populous was on the move and inevitably, one in particular headed in her direction.
Gina had been vigilant on all fronts. Making the home a happy loving place from which no man would wish to wander; the bedroom, where she put a concerted effort into ensuring all of Jimmy’s needs and desires were met.
In between ring-fencing her life, Gina ventured out every day to patrol the perimeter of it, running along the lanes, circumnavigating the Young Farm, checking for signs of life.
The day she saw the car on the drive Gina thought her legs were going to give way. She steadied herself on the stone wall, sucking in air, trying to still her booming heart. Bella was back and even though common sense told her it could be anyone, a neighbour checking the house, a relative staying over, Gina knew. It was on the fourth day she saw her with her own eyes, for sure, no doubts at all, as Bella came out of the front door, tanned and looking radiant as she unlocked her car then zoomed up the drive.
Gina had panicked, thrusting herself into the undergrowth and crouching behind a tree, feeling foolish as she scrunched her eyes like a seven-year-old playing hide and seek. But it wasn’t a childish game and as she stood, brushing dandelion fluff from her legs, and ignoring the sting of nettles on her hands, she was overcome by a sense of foreboding, ignoring the voice of reason that told her she was overreacting.
NO, I’M NOT!
The threat was back and so were every single one of Gina’s demons.
