After a plain but enjoyable lunch, the three of them tackled the washing up, Peter thrusting his manly hands into the sink while Betty dried and young Karen stood on a chair to put everything away. Betty was still hoping to confide in Peter about recent events in her life, but it was a difficult topic to raise in front of his daughter, who hadn't left his side for an instant.
"It took us a long time to readjust," he was telling her in an easy, relaxed voice, "but we believe we went about it the right way. I do a lot of counselling for the bereaved, but here, in this house, we help each other with our hearts, don't we, Karen? We share our feelings, we cuddle and we comfort one another. Yes, of course we both miss Mummy - she was a lovely Mummy, wasn't she? But we know she's not coming back, so we've built the next stage of our lives on new foundations. Above all, this little one and I stick close together because we need each other. There's a lot of love in this house, Betty, as you may have noticed!"
"Yes," she said, "it's wonderful. I sense peace here too. I confess I got horribly short-tempered when my husband died. I felt angry because he'd been thoughtless enough to leave me without any warning. And no-one seemed willing to help. Oh, there's was plenty of verbal sympathy, people all said how sorry they were, but they kept their distance as if afraid to become too involved. That's why I envy what you have here!"
"Physical contact is important, Betty. Did you cuddle your children when their father died?"
"Karen, certainly! But not Kevin. Somehow it didn't seem right to cuddle a growing boy."
"Did you offer? Any animal - even a human - will let you know if it objects to being handled. You shouldn't deny anyone that comfort just because you're afraid they mightn't like it. It does both parties a power of good, believe me."
Betty was quick to reassure him. "I cuddled my Karen a lot when her father died. And this year, when she was taken away too, I was left alone with Kevin - my little Scruff, as I call him - so I gave him as much love as I could. But I admit I kept most of my grief to myself - I didn't want to upset him."
Peter pulled up the sink-plug with a flourish, and grabbed a second tea-towel as the soapy water drained away.
"Grieving alone is the most miserable experience on earth, Betty. But when two people share a common loss, they establish a loving bond that's second to none. They each exchange their sorrow, helping it to drain away like that murky washing-up water. On your own, you can become resentful because you're expected to clear up all the mess. It's as if the dead had deliberately been thoughtless, leaving you to do twice as many chores on your own. This can make you so angry, you become bitter and unpopular! That's when we need our friends most, Betty, yet we so often drive them away. No-one likes witnessing emotional outbursts, so people become over-cautious, fearful of being caught up in situations they don't know how to handle."
He paused and turned to Karen who was flapping her arms to attract his attention.
"Sorry to butt in," she said, facing each of them in turn, "but should I make her some coffee?"
On seeing two smiling nods, Karen jumped down from her chair and set about her self-appointed task while Betty and her host adjourned to the front room.
"Peter," she began as soon as they were alone, "there's several things I need to tell you - to ask you. I'm having problems at home, but I didn't want to say too much in front of your Karen. It's not an easy subject, death, even for adults, and I'd hate to frighten your little one."
He laughed. "Don't worry about Karen. She has her fantasies, yes - it's part of being a child. But we've never deluded her about the realities of life."
"She's not scared of ghosts?"
"Ghosts, eh? That rather depends what a ghost is, and what being scared means." Peter offered Betty a toffee, then unwrapped one for himself. "Children get a kick out of being scared by their own fantasies; it creates a shot of adrenalin that circulates like oil around an engine. But Karen's a level-headed girl - intelligent too, so relax. And right now she's well occupied in making coffee, so it's a good time to say what's on your mind."
Betty briefly described her encounters with her phantom Karen, and their meeting with Dan Wright. Peter began to look quaintly smug.
"Did you know he'd written a book about this?" He gave a boyish chuckle. "Poor Dan! He was most indignant when I told him I came across it in a second-hand bookshop, classified under Science Fiction - though in a sense, of course, they were right - you can't actiually prove whether it's truth or fantasy."
"For me it's truth," said Betty with satisfaction. "I know. I've met Karen's spirit, and I've no fear of dying, as long as it doesn't hurt, and provided Scruff's taken care of when I'm gone. But he's my real worry now. Have I corrupted him by letting him wear Karen's clothes?"
She saw Peter's brief frown of misunderstanding. "Karen? Ah! Yes, that must have come as a shock when you heard my daughter's name. It's actually a feeling we can both share because my wife's name was Elizabeth."
Betty felt a curious uneasiness. "Would you care to know why I came to your service today? The spirit of my daughter, speaking through Kevin, told me it was important. BE THERE! she said, BE THERE! It was a command, Peter, not a suggestion, spoken with tremendous urgency as though it came from a dying soul. That upset me terribly - I thought it meant Scruff was dying. But he's very much alive, which brings me to my problem. Kevin now wants to wear female nurses' uniforms and keeps asking about their underwear! What am I to do? What have I unleashed here? Is there an evil side of Karen's soul trying to take over his entire life?"
"Not if I can prevent it!" said Peter firmly. "Would you like me to have a talk with Kevin? How do you think he'd react if I started taking a closer interest in both of you?"
At first Betty didn't understand, but her unease was still growing.
"Putting it another way, Betty - will it be awkward if Karen and I were to visit you on a fairly regular basis?"
Now, if she did understand, she still pretended not to.
"Look," he went on, "I can't afford not to be practical. I'm thinking simply of Karen - my Karen. I know we only met twenty-four hours ago, but you're the first mother-figure she's taken to since Liz died. I'll be honest - she was restless all night, fantasizing about you. She wouldn't eat any breakfast this morning, fretting in case you didn't show up as promised. She's at an age where she's going to need a mother."
Betty felt a prickle of alarm. "Just what are you suggesting?"
Peter shook his head. "I'm sorry. I see from your face that I've put my foot in it already, speaking from the heart and not the brain. I do that sometimes in my sermons, and every time it gets me into trouble. But look, if I don't say this now, you'll be gone. There may not be another chance."
He turned away, as if to avoid the added ordeal of eye-contact.
"Putting it as plainly as I can, Betty - trying not to offend anyone, least of all you - my Karen will be most upset if she never sees you again. I admit the moment I saw you two standing together, holding hands in that empty church yesterday, a voice from somewhere said it looked as if God had sent you. But my stupid heart keeps putting my foot where my brain ought to be, so all I'm saying is this: Can we please see each other again, once or twice at least, for Karen's sake? And to rephrase my earlier question which got me into trouble - would you accept my help with young Kevin?"
Betty's heart-felt sigh betrayed her confusion and uncertainty. Until midday she hadn't known this man's name! Now, barely two hours later, what was he proposing? Marriage? Any man who could be that forward must be after only one thing, certainly not the kind of relationship Betty cared to offer.
"I'm sure we'll see each other from time to time," she said, not wanting to sound unkind.
But Peter couldn't let the matter rest. "Betty, that's not what I'm asking."
Now she felt humiliated, manipulated and used by a lonely man and his cute little daughter as if she'd been set up, maybe by the powers on high, to be dropped neatly into a ready-made vacancy in someone else's life.
Despite her good nature, Betty turned on Peter in genuine hostility.
"You think because my name happens to be Elizabeth, and because I'm still mourning the death of a little girl called Karen, we can fit our two broken families together like the halves of an incomplete jig-saw puzzle? I don't know if I even want to see you again, why should I? It was a chance meeting, nothing more - and now you've got me all confused."
"And angry too. I'm sorry. I don't deliver very good sermons, not when they're sincere! I'm not even a good father. I only know there's plenty going wrong in my life, Betty, and I'm not giving Karen the kind of home and upbringing we wanted her to have. She's an only child through no fault of her own; she's without a mother, her father's out of work, we've got precious little money, and on top of that I've got to buy her a new uniform for school before term starts!"
There! A uniform! It was almost as if he knew! Did someone tip him off? Wasn't it all too neat? It was a wonder he hadn't invented a dead son by the name of Kevin, just to complete the picture! Betty was on the verge of expressing her thoughts quite bluntly when Karen sidled in with two cups of coffee.
"Why is it," she asked, as if for her own education, "that grown-ups of the opposite sex often seem to have rows?"
Her father beckoned her over and perched her on his knee.
"We weren't having a row, darling, just discussing when we might see each other again, that's all. We were speaking from our hearts instead of our heads."
"What's the difference?"
"Oh, plenty!"
Betty was conscious of two earnest eyes looking up at her full of trust. She knelt down beside Karen.
"When people speak from the heart, my poppet, they often say what's in their minds without thinking. When you speak with your brain, you say what you think creates the best effect. Your father wants me to spend more time seeing you, and I wouldn't mind that at all, only I was telling him how busy I am. I've got a troublesome boy of my own, and he takes a lot of looking after - and besides, we live twenty miles away, so it isn't easy. But I might arrange a visit now and then, when I'm in the area."
"I told Daddy he ought to marry you!" the child confided, as if to clarify any misunderstanding.
Betty laughed off her embarrassment. "Oh sweetheart, it's far too soon for anyone to contemplate something like that!"
"I didn't mean yet!" she said indignantly, as though Betty should have had the sense to realise.
"I got as far as suggesting we might meet up again," Peter explained ruefully, "but it seems I didn't phrase it too well. It all went wrong somewhere and now I've messed everything up, I'm sorry! So between us, chicken, you and I have got to find a way of repairing the damage."
Karen thought carefully for a moment. "Seeds take time to grow!" she said in a dull voice. "Everyone knows that!"
And with a final glare of disapproval, she left the room.
"Oh dear!" said Betty. "Now I've upset her!"
"A minor setback. No harm done, not there anyway."
Betty found herself smiling warmly. "No harm here either, Peter. But really, I should be going. I must look in on Scruff this afternoon."
"I'm sure he'll be okay. You're still worried, I can tell!"
"The question is: Have I good reason to worry? When I know the answer to that, perhaps I'll stop being so edgy. Are you on the phone?"
"Can't afford it, I'm afraid. That's why I didn't get the message about the service till yesterday morning - it was left with a neighbour who goes to bed early."
Betty collected her hat and coat from the hall-stand. "If it's not too impertinent a question," she asked as they stood by the door, "how long ago did you lose your job?"
Peter gave a weary sigh. "It's been four months. I was made redundant in April after fifteen years of loyal service. It's partly my fault for not finishing my exams years ago. Now I spend most of my time looking for work, but no-one seems to want a half-qualified accountant, not these days."
With her daughter's advice echoing through her mind, Betty told Peter about the spare uniform. "I'll bring it over some time during the week, if that's okay. At least we can see if it fits her. In fact, I have a whole collection of clothes I'd like to give away. If I don't see you beforehand, I'll bring them with me next Sunday."
She hovered in the hallway hoping to say goodbye to Karen, but the child had chosen to stay out of sight. It wasn't until Betty was pulling away in her car that she happened to glance up and saw a concerned face staring at her from behind bedroom curtains. It was a look of sad reproach from a girl who seemed sorely disappointed.
Still, it couldn't be helped, Betty kept telling herself as she drove home. She entertained no thoughts whatever of remarrying, no matter how needy the man, no matter how appealing his child. Betty had enough troubles of her own! And would Peter or his daughter really care to associate with the unpredictable Kevin? Their friendship might not last five minutes!
As soon as she got indoors, Betty rang the hospital and learned that Kevin was asleep. He'd apparently wandered off and been found in the nurses' locker room, so they'd been obliged to give him a mild sedative. The sister advised against any visits until the morning, when by all accounts they'd be delighted if Mrs. Marsh took her incorrigible son home.
Betty resolved to move all the wrong sorts of clothes out of the house before Kevin's return, to minimise any further temptations. That evening she gathered up every item of girls' clothing she could find, and on a sudden impulse drove back to Rushbury.
"Good heavens!" Peter exclaimed as he opened the door with a welcoming grin. "Is this a change of heart? I felt sure I'd put myself firmly in the dog-house earlier. I do apologise."
"It was my fault," Betty conceded. "I over-reacted. I've rather a lot on my mind these days. Anyway, I've put together a load of clothes we shan't be needing any more, and since I'm at a loose end this evening I thought I'd bring them over. To be honest, I just want to get them out of the way. A lot of these are brand new, and the rest have only been worn a few times. Everything's perfectly clean."
"Well," Peter sighed, "I can't begin to tell you how grateful we are. I wish there was some way I could repay you."
"Well, maybe in return you can advise me about this problem with Kevin. I seem to have started a forest fire - I've been careless with matches, and now I don't know how to put it out."
"Pursuing your analogy, Betty, fire-fighters have a saying: Fight fire with fire! What do you think Kevin really wants?"
"I don't know exactly, but it seems he's still prey to the demands of his sister's evil spirit. Today he raided the nurses' locker-room!"
Peter couldn't suppress a genial smile. "The little monkey! We're all a mixture of good and evil, aren't we - adult maturity and childlike naivety. Would you like to come in for more coffee?"
Betty protested that she hadn't time.
"So what are you planning to do instead? You said just now you were at a loose end. Well, so am I, so come on in, please. I need counselling no less than you. Forget that nonsense I talked about earlier - I've thought about it long and hard since you left, and deeply regret what I said. We all tend to think too much about immediate issues, don't we, blinding ourselves to long-term commonsense? The truth is, Betty, I'm a bloody inadequate father, and that really hurts. I love Karen with all my heart, but I can't give her half of what she needs. It's an unending struggle, trying to play both parental roles, trying to uphold the image we once had of sending her to a top school and maybe university. Yet what's the point these days, with so much poverty and unemployment? My father repeatedly badgered me to get a qualification, but somehow my drive ran out at the wrong time, or some new crisis got in the way. Look around you! What a mess I live in! Is this God's purpose? I feel such a damned hypocrite sometimes, standing up there in the pulpit, telling good people how to run their lives!"
Betty cast a critical eye over her surroundings. All the walls could have done with repapering, the carpet was threadbare near the door, and the arms of the settee badly needed repair. The curtains hung unevenly and flakes of white were peeling from the ceiling. Peter himself looked a mere shadow of the charismatic man who'd commanded the attention of dozens of worshippers that morning. Betty found her heart warming to him.
"Oh, Peter! When did things start going wrong for you?"
"A couple of years ago, when Liz first became ill. Do you know what I mean when I say I lost my spirit? That's just how it was. We make tremendous efforts when we're confident of success, but failure tends to feed on itself. After goofing my finals for the third time, I was convinced God was trying to tell me something. I've always been a lay-preacher, mainly because I enjoy trying to inspire people - though these days I can't even inspire myself. Then when Liz died, I lost my job through spending too much time being domestic, and I simply gave up. I'm not cut out to be an accountant, I never was - and I certainly didn't enjoy it. I do enjoy preaching, but that doesn't put much money in the bank. If only someone would knock some sense into me, show me what I ought to be doing with my life! I'm not a bad man, Betty - I'm not an axe-murderer, a child-molester or a wife-beater! I've never been unfaithful, neither to Liz nor to God. On rare occasions, I can still turn on my headlights for a shining performance in the pulpit, but here, in this dismal room, you see the real me - confused, alone, and bloody depressed!"
He smiled sadly. "Sorry - this often happens on a Sunday evening. It's such a mockery of this morning's service, that's what gets me down. I tell everyone how good God is, yet there are times when I simply can't reconcile the two. Thank God you called round, Betty - I need company this evening. I need it badly. Let's go and make two cups of coffee."
He led the way to the kitchen, filled the kettle, and faced Betty with the same sad smile. "Don't mind me. Now that I've got that off my chest, I'll make a valiant effort to stop feeling sorry for myself."
"That's a good start, Peter. Remember to count your blessings too. You've done nothing wrong that can't be put right. You're not like my poor friend, Isobel, who twice ran over one of my children. She killed Karen outright, and put Kevin into hospital. But I'm not angry. I feel only love and compassion for her. She's come through hard times, but she's a good soul, just as I feel sure you're a good man."
Hearing a sound behind her, Betty turned to see Karen, clad in a faded cotton nightie, eyeing her critically from the doorway, her eyes bright and curious.
"Who killed me?"
"Oh no, my love, not you!" Betty instinctively bent down and held the child in her arms. "I had a little girl called Karen who was run over by a friend. It wasn't anyone's fault. There was ice on the road, and everything happened at the wrong moment."
"Why have you come back?" she asked coolly.
"To bring some clothes I thought you might like to try on."
Karen's eyes lit up at once. "Your Karen's clothes? Have they got our name in them?"
"Some may have. The rest I bought more recently, after Karen died. It's a long story, but you're the ideal person to give them to, so I thought it was sensible to bring them over. They're no use just hanging in a wardrobe at home, are they! You'll find them in plastic bags in the hall - I'm sorry, I didn't pack them very well, so they may need ironing."
Before Betty had finished, Karen raced off to examine her prize, and they heard heavy footsteps as she dragged the bags upstairs.
"She'll be down again presently," Peter predicted. "And I guarantee we'll be treated to a mannequin parade. I hope that won't distress you?"
Betty shook her head. "I'm all right. But will she mind, wearing someone else's hand-me-downs? Children often feel offended when they're given clothes that aren't brand new."
"Many have little choice," said Peter sadly. "Besides, these have come from someone she likes. You're still a celebrity in this house."
Betty told Peter of the disapproving look she'd seen from Karen's window, and he laughed.
"I know the one. The look that says: Oh dear, you've let me down! I've seen it many times, admonishing me in church when I make some stupid mistake, like when I once said Chastity instead of Charity. She inherited that look from her mother! I see so much of Liz there!"
"How did Liz die?" Betty enquired, sensing the moment was right.
"Slowly," he replied. "Painfully too, but with calm and dignity. No fear of death, only a sadness at having to leave us both behind, especially the little one." Peter pressed his lips tightly together, than added: "We were both there, right at the very end."
"But you know it isn't the end, don't you?"
"I believe so, but I don't know. No-one can be certain."
"I wish you'd heard my Karen as I did, though I doubt if she'll come back again now. The darker side of her spirit seems to have blotted out the good one. Oh Peter, I don't know what to do about Kevin. It's as if I've stupidly thrust a stick into a hornet's nest, and now lots of innocent people are getting stung, including poor Dan Wright. I wonder how he's getting on - you've met his wife, I assume?"
Peter laughed. "It sounds as if you have! Perhaps you didn't realise, but she happens to be my mother-in-law, so I try to keep her at arm's length. Relations have been somewhat strained since our marriage. I don't think she fully approved of Liz's choice! Dan's a marvellous character, they both are, but you need to discover the knack of handling Moira, like riding a frisky horse! Until then, you can't puzzle out why you feel this sudden sense of guilt, like a child in detention! Do you take milk?"
They took their coffee into the front room, and as Peter shifted papers off the glass-topped coffee table, he spotted Dan's book on the shelf below.
"Providence!" he exclaimed, and passed it to her. Betty politely thumbed a few pages, obliged to show an interest. On the back cover she saw a photo of the author, looking some twenty years younger.
"A handsome man!" she exclaimed.
"A very wise man!" Peter assured her. "Of course, I've known him for years, long before I met Liz."
"It's funny, but I feel now as if I've known him all my life. It's curious how I've been guided into meeting both of you! God certainly moves in a mysterious way."
"God's not the only one!" Peter nodded as Karen glided silently into view and spun herself for approval.
The sight completely took Betty's breath. Karen had selected the blue taffeta dress which Kevin had defiled, its shortened skirt uneven and frayed. Betty's eyes filled with unwelcome tears. She impulsively flung out her arms, and Karen rushed over, only too grateful for a cuddle. Peter said nothing, evidently affected by the sight of his daughter nestling so securely in Betty's embrace.
"Oh, darling, I'm sorry - I didn't mean to include this dress," Betty explained. "It was one my Karen never wore - I bought it for her birthday party as a surprise, but I'm afraid someone managed to ruin it by ripping off half the skirt."
"I still like it!" the child said hopefully. "Can I keep it?"
"Of course, my darling, but it's ruined. Does it fit you?"
Karen nodded silently, and stuck her thumb in her mouth. Betty closed her eyes, and her imagination took her back to the time when she held the precious child she had lost months earlier. Peter must have noticed Betty's tears. He could have come across and taken Karen away, but he didn't. He knew tears were necessary, that sadness was a part of life we all have to accept, that without some sadness there can be no joy.
"You're crying," said Karen. "Where's your hanky?"
The handkerchief was offered by Peter, but it was Karen who took it and gently wiped Betty's eyes. "It's perfectly clean," she assured her. "We were ironing hankies at tea-time! I don't mind ironing hankies, it's shirts I still find hard."
Betty gave her a kiss. "We all do, darling, but there's a knack to shirts. Some day I'll come and show you."
"You will?" Karen's excitement couldn't have been more genuine if she'd been promised a trip to Disney World!
"And maybe next time I'll bring Kevin too, provided he promises to behave himself. I'm afraid he's been a bit naughty lately."
"Probably just a phase," Karen nodded wisely. "Boys go through phases!"
"Oh, so do girls, sweetheart, but girls have different sorts of phases from boys. Kevin's still confused about losing his sister."
"How old is he?"
"Eleven and a half!"
"Same as me!" said Karen, glancing anxiously at her father, then at Betty. "Am I allowed to try on something else on before bed-time?"
"Try the school uniform," Betty suggested, and the child hurried upstairs. "I should explain," she told Peter, "it's a girl's uniform that Kevin insisted I buy, hoping he could become Karen at school. I was a fool to agree, but I needed to go along with the idea then. It helped me through my grief - I hope you understand."
"Perfectly. And I'm sure I'll understand a lot more when I've met young Kevin - with your approval."
"Are you free tomorrow?" asked Betty. "If you're not working, you and Karen might like to come with me to the hospital when I pick him up. Then we could all have lunch at my house. I'm sure Karen would like that!"
"Me too," said Peter, "but I'm afraid we have a busy week ahead of us. First, I need to visit the old man to convince him I haven't scattered his congregation or persuaded them all to become Anglicans! Like me, Dan believes in freedom from doctrine. The goodness of Christianity is manifest in people like yourself, Betty, giving your time to others. The one truth I'm constantly reminded of is that God moves in mysterious ways. And I take great comfort in what you told me about your daughter's spirit. I study human nature, and I can see it brought you peace of mind."
Betty described the visit they'd made to Isobel James' house, when Karen's spirit had spoken out like a Dutch Uncle. Peter laughed.
"That settles it, Betty - I have to meet this phenomenon of yours. I hope it won't disturb him to meet another Karen?"
Before Betty could answer there was a tactful knock on the door and in came Karen dressed ready for school. The size was perfect and the image she presented was quite stunning. She also had the advantage of a coy girlish smile that Kevin never could have mastered. But when Betty turned to Peter, she saw a look of dismay.
"She makes a grand sight, Betty, but I'm afraid it's the wrong colour. Karen's new uniform has to be green."
Betty felt devastated. "Are you sure?"
"Positive, unless we can persuade six hundred other girls to change to navy blue! Apart from that," he laughed, "can you imagine getting Moira Wright to agree?"
"No!" she conceded with a wry grin, and turned sadly to the child. "Sorry, my poppet - we tried!"
"Have you undone the damage yet?" asked Karen, as she studied smiles of amusement on both faces.
Her father growled playfully. "I'll do serious damage to you if you don't say goodnight and scoot off up to bed!"
Karen responded promptly, rushing first to her father, then to Betty, giving her a long and loving goodnight kiss.
"I still can't believe how good she looks," Peter exclaimed when she finally took her leave. "Disappointing about the uniform, but I'm most grateful for everything else. What can I say but thank you? I guess you'd be offended if I suggest any form of payment. Perhaps I can find something to give Kevin instead - what are his interests, apart from nurses' uniforms and creating mayhem for the N.H.S.?"
Betty listed electronic gadgets and railways.
"Steam engines?" he queried, and a thoughtful sparkle came to his eyes. "Now - there's a thought. Karen and I have to take a trip up to Shropshire tomorrow after seeing Dan. I had an old aunt who died recently and I've been directed to help with the disposal of her property. It so happens the preserved Severn Valley Railway runs right past the end of her garden, so I'm wondering whether Kevin would care to join us for a few days before school starts? He could keep Karen amused when she's not helping with the inventory. You're welcome too, if you're free, as long as you don't confuse this offer with any foolish notion I may have suggested earlier. I'm talking here about a large, four-bedroomed Victorian house - plenty of space for two families - a miniature hotel, far too big for one frail old lady. If I can't sell it, maybe I'll run it as a holiday home for train-spotters!"
But Betty felt cautious about accepting the offer. "Peter, it's a nice idea, but I have a part-time job. And I need to keep a watchful eye on Kevin when he comes out of hospital. I must keep him occupied, and somehow steer him away from this strange idea of impersonating nurses!"
"Maybe a few lungfuls of coal-smoke and steam might do the trick! Look, Betty, be sensible. If you're to keep a constant eye on your lad, you'll need a few days off from work, so think about it! Dare I suggest you ask Kevin's opinion too before you deny him a few days of healthy boyish enjoyment?"
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