It was with mixed reactions that the nurses bade farewell to Kevin on Monday afternoon. To many he'd been a source of amusement, to some he'd been an embarrassment, while a few hard-liners expressed disapproval that he hadn't been taught more civilised behaviour.
"If my son did that," said one, "I'd march him straight to a good psychiatrist!"
"Just youthful exuberance!" said another. "All part of growing up!"
On the homeward journey, Kevin sat in the front passenger seat staring glumly out of the window, knowing he'd done wrong, but undecided whether to come clean and apologise, or pretend nothing had happened.
Betty herself was in a turmoil of uncertainty. What subjects could she safely talk about, and what were best left alone? Normally they'd have chatted about almost anything, but now an awkward silence hung between them, a barrier that had to be lifted as soon as possible.
"Guess where I went yesterday," she said at last. "I had lunch with a very interesting man who's got a young daughter the same age as you." She thought twice about saying the name. "They're off to Shropshire today, to stay in a house that's built right beside a steam railway line."
Kevin's eyes lit up. "You mean the Severn Valley?"
"Something like that. You've heard of it?"
"Of course. They've got a Stanier 8F up there, and a Mickey Mouse, and about ten other engines, mostly Great Western but all big ones, not those skinny little industrial tanks you see sometimes. The line runs from Bridgnorth right through to Kidderminster! Where is this house exactly?"
"I've no idea. And don't get excited! We don't know these people very well, and it's unlikely they really want us up there."
"What's their name?"
"His name's Peter - I forget the surname. His wife died recently and he's having to bring up a daughter all on his own - a bit like you and me."
"Yes. Except that I'm not your daughter!"
"That's true. And since you've raised the subject, I'd better tell you now - I've given away all your sister's clothes as Karen suggested. We don't want you to keep wearing them, do we! We had our fun for a while, but then it all got rather out of hand! So let's make a fresh start, eh?"
At first there was no response at all from Kevin. When he finally spoke, it was as if to himself in a strange whisper.
"Peter Renshaw!" he nodded. "His name suddenly came to me."
"I see. You know his daughter's name too?"
He laughed. "That's easy - same as mine!"
"Yours?" Betty glanced across and noticed a serene smile on the face of her companion. "Did they come and visit you in hospital?"
"No. Maybe I dreamt it. Mary had a little lamb - its fleece was white as snow! Why would he say that? Did you have a fight?"
Betty felt sick. "A fight? No! A slight disagreement, yes, but nothing serious - just a stupid misunderstanding. What else do you know about Mr. Renshaw?"
"He's a lonely man - so much sorrow in his life! We'd like him to be happy, Betty - he needs a renewed purpose, but while he pines for Elizabeth, he keeps losing his spirit. That's sad."
"Is Elizabeth at peace now?"
"She will be. Everyone finds peace here, once there's peace on earth. But she's restless because of Peter. You've seen him now, that's good! It's all going to be fine now."
The voice ended with a soft sigh, and when Betty glanced across, Kevin was asleep. But she felt deeply troubled that the days of the phantom Karen evidently weren't over! She knew she had to bring these unpredictable visits to an end, but where could she turn for help? The names of two allies sprang to mind, but one lay in the Ashfield Eye Hospital and the other was on his way to some unspecified address in Shropshire.
Opening her front door, Betty felt a peculiar sense of dread as if the evil of Karen were still close by, waiting for the next opportunity to make trouble. Betty's fears were aggravated by a new sense of loneliness too.
In reality she wasn't alone - Kevin was there beside her, very much her normal son, full of news about his time in hospital. Yet she felt vulnerable and undeniably scared as if she'd just stepped out of the sunlight into an unfriendly haunted house, and the plain truth suddenly hit her. It no longer felt like home.
"I suppose they told you about finding Karen in the nurses' quarters?" said Kevin, as if the incident were really none of his doing.
"Yes, Kevin. They also said you'd been rude to some of them, asking all sorts of unpleasant questions. You must realise, Scruff, there are certain personal functions one simply doesn't enquire about. Nurses are entitled to respect and privacy, just like everyone else. If you want to know about such things you should ask me. I take much of the blame for treating you the way I did, but from now on we've got to obey certain rules. Never again do what you did at Jimmy Tylers' house, and never again ask ladies for details of their personal underwear, is that clear? If you want people to like you, you must learn to be polite!"
"Did Jimmy Tyler come and see you?"
"He did, and he took away certain items that seemed to belong to him. I think perhaps you should avoid his company in future, Scruff. I don't mind you having friends, but I don't want you getting into bad habits. I want everyone to tell me what a super little chap you are, not complain about the naughty pranks you've been up to."
"But if Karen's got more to tell you, can I still let her in?"
"I need you to control her, Kevin. If you feel she's got something important to say, then I'd welcome an occasional visit from the nice wise Karen, provided you can warn me when she's coming. But not that other evil side, not at any price. If ever you think you're going to be taken over by those wicked thoughts, you run to me for help and I'll do everything in my power to protect you. I'm on your side, remember."
Betty knelt down to address him face to face. "What I really want is for my real little Scruff to grow into a normal healthy young man. We must both try now to put this other business behind us!"
Kevin nodded, though he seemed only partially convinced as he wandered upstairs. Betty returned to the kitchen and was busy preparing the evening meal when she was startled by a hostile, demanding voice right behind her.
"Who's done this?"
She spun round. There in the doorway stood Kevin, his face flushed with anger, holding a handful of pages torn from Dan Wright's precious railway book.
"I found these on the floor upstairs. This book's been ripped to pieces!"
Betty had noticed nothing when she'd been upstairs earlier. It could only have happened in the last few minutes.
"That has got to be the work of your evil sister!" she said, shaking her head. "Whatever is Mr. Wright going to say?"
"Nothing, if he doesn't get his sight back!"
Betty turned on Kevin at once. "If that's you, Karen, how dare you come back here. That's a wicked, wicked thing to say."
Kevin immediately burst into tears. "I'm not Karen. I just meant it would be better if he didn't know what happened to his book, that's all."
Betty found it hard to forgive herself. Was this how it was going to be, yelling at Kevin every time he made some trivial remark that she mistook for spite? Was she always going to be jumpy, waiting for a balloon to burst?
"I'm sorry, Scruff. Show me what's happened."
Kevin led her to the top of the stairs where they found a dozen pages ripped out of Dan's book and strewn across the landing. There was no way the book could be suitably repaired.
"We'd better order another copy at once," she decided. "It's the least we can do. We'll have to tell Mr. Wright, of course, but now may not be the best time. He's got enough to worry about without this! Let's go and visit him this evening, shall we, and see how he is?"
When they reached Dan Wright's bedside his wife was there. Betty was about to head for home again, but Moira spotted them before they could escape.
"Come on," she boomed, "it's all right, I'm just leaving." She faced her husband and touched his arm. "It's the Marsh woman and her son, so I'll leave you in their hands."
"Where's that envelope?" queried Dan, fumbling about on his bedside table.
"Steady!" shouted Moira. "You fool, you'll send everything flying! Just be careful, will you? I didn't bring expensive flowers up here to have you scatter them all over the floor! Here, I'm holding the letter in my hand! Just sit still and I'll deal with it!"
As she left, she handed Betty a white envelope. It contained a note from Peter Renshaw, thanking her for her kindness and inviting them both to join him in Shropshire if they could possibly get away. Betty read it twice before greeting the minister, who was already chatting to her son as if they were old friends.
"Greetings!" echoed Dan, aiming a broad smile in the direction of Betty's voice. "Have you come for confession? Kevin's just broken the news about the torn pages, but I've told him not to worry. Look at it this way. If I've lost my sight for good, he may as well keep the book. If not, it's a small price to pay for my recovery! There, that's settled! Now, give me an impartial report on young Peters performace - did he put on a good show for my regulars?"
Betty sat holding the minister's hand while she gave him details of Sunday's service and her encounter with Karen Renshaw.
"A dear child!" he said. "You'd have liked my Liz too - a natural for a minister's wife, we all miss her terribly - so kind, caring and easy to talk to - not unlike you in that respect. I'm afraid Moira's regarded by many of my congregation as a bit of a dragon, though of course they don't know her as I do. She's my strength, you see. She's the organiser, while I play the role of bumbling Mr. Lovable."
Betty laughed. "Lovable, I agree. I'm not so sure about bumbling!"
"Believe me, Betty, I bumble - though I seem to get away with it, and it's a role that keeps me reasonably content!" Raising his voice as if in the pulpit, he added: "Want to hear about God's latest miracle?"
Other patients peered from behind their books as Dan Wright broadcast the fact that an eminent eye-surgeon whom he'd known since boyhood had pledged not only to save his sight, but restore it to its former excellence. He sounded so ecstatic, Betty prayed that the good man's faith would be justified.
"Remember what the child said, Betty? She said I'd be well taken care of. How did she know, Betty? How did she know?" He chuckled, adding loudly: "You know, there are times when I think there must be something in this God business, after all!"
Betty squeezed his hand extra hard. "You wicked old man! We both know there is, don't we! God moves in a very mysterious way."
"Her wonders to perform, eh? Ha! I love saying that - it brings the establishment up with a jolt! Can anyone prove that God isn't a She?"
"According to Karen, there's no such thing as gender up there."
"Just as well, if you ask me. Causes a lot of problems down here, I can tell you, when there are plenty of other good things, like railways, eh Kevin? Peter tells me he's off to the Severn Valley for a few days, so perhaps the theme of next Sunday's service ought to be about trains!"
"Or the Severn deadly sins?" suggested Kevin.
"Bravo!" said Dan. "He's a smart lad! Just for that, let him keep the railway book! You know what I think, Betty? I think you ought to take Peter up on his offer and visit Shropshire for a few days - a breath of fresh steam will do you both good! Besides, the poor chap needs a helping hand! Go on! You see what you can do for him, eh?"
The following morning, as if their destiny were pre-ordained, Betty and Kevin drove to Shropshire, having phoned Peter the night before and agreed they'd be there by lunch-time. On their arrival the smell of a roast beef dinner added its own rich welcome.
"All paid for by the former lady of the house," Peter explained, "and cooked to perfection by her capable great-niece. We found stacks of good food left in the freezer and felt it our duty to test it. We'll definitely need your two extra mouths."
Half way through the meal, Kevin leapt up from the table and rushed to the window as a steam engine thundered past the bottom of the garden. Betty was about to admonish him, but Peter restrained her.
"Let him enjoy the facilities, Betty. It's a healthy interest! I was just as excited when I first came to stay here. After a few days, you realise there's nothing much goes by that you haven't seen already, and the novelty soon wears off. But this is a fascinating line - we must all go on it before you leave."
After lunch, Peter showed them round the house. Everywhere smelled musty and slightly sweet, like an old library. All the downstairs rooms had high ceilings and there was an excellent view from the third-floor attic window, looking along the line for a good half-mile in both directions.
"Can anyone sleep up here?" asked Kevin.
"Sure," said Peter, "but the trains don't run at night."
"That doesn't matter. I like being here. I wish this was my bedroom!"
"Then consider it settled, if your mother has no objections!"
They moved on and were shown Karen's room. In girlish exuberance she flung open her wardrobe, revealing several dresses which Kevin recognised at once.
"You said you'd given them away!" he accused Betty.
"True. We gave them to Karen."
Karen nodded gratefully, not realising the significance they held for Kevin. Among them, Betty saw the torn blue dress.
"I've brought that other piece of material with me," she said quietly, somewhat embarrassed by Kevin's continuing gaze. "I'll see if I can repair it this evening."
"Can I help?" asked Kevin, as if to make amends for his sister's handiwork.
Peter intervened. "I'm sure we could all lend our various talents to the task, but there are a number of other projects that need doing first. Kevin, if you're interested in the attic, you could help me by making a list of everything that's up there? Take time out to watch any train that goes by, but I shall need a complete inventory of everything in the house, so volunteers are more than welcome. But first I'm sure you'd like to explore the garden. Karen will show you the way."
Left alone with Peter, Betty felt obliged to tell him about the torn railway book. "What with dresses and now books, Peter, he's giving me no end of problems. I'm not sure it's even wise letting him wander off with Karen. He may start talking about her clothes, or heaven knows what else. If you think that could be a problem, we'd better find some other way of keeping him occupied."
"For the rest of his life?" Peter shook his head. "I reckon this is just what he needs. If Kevin oversteps the mark, rest assured Karen will put him firmly in his place. She's a very level-headed girl, as doubtless you've noticed. Liz would have been so proud of her."
"She is, I'm sure. Perhaps in the next few days something may open your eyes to that. In a way, I hope it doesn't, because I want Kevin to revert to being a normal healthy boy. But if his sister does reappear - well, we'll just have to wait and see!"
They turned to see the two children standing side by side on the fence overlooking the railway, and pointing. A moment later, they had both disappeared from view.
"Don't worry," Peter assured her. "He's in good hands! And before I forget, thanks for coming today. I hope we haven't disrupted all your plans?"
"Not at all. I acted on your good advice and took a week off from work. I told them I needed to keep an eye on Kevin - though naturally I didn't go into details about his latest obsession."
"Let me offer you my theory on obsessions," said Peter. "There's nothing so obsessive as the unattainable. Once attained, you can generally work it out of your system, or at least reduce it to an acceptable level. If Kevin's keen on girls' clothes, my approach would be to make them freely available until he's had enough. Put him in a dress tomorrow if you think that's what he wants - we've plenty upstairs, thanks to you. Karen won't mind, nor will I, and I doubt if the neighbours will complain. I believe in being true to oneself, provided you don't give offence to others."
"It's a healthy liberal attitude, Peter, but what if he never grows out of it?"
"The shorter a goat's chain, the more likely the goat will tug it out of the ground! Sorry, I'm into analogies again, a hazard of my calling! I'd still like a private chat with Kevin, once he feels he can trust me."
"You still talk as if we're about to enter a long-term relationship, Peter. I told you, I'm not planning anything of the kind. I think I made that clear!"
"You most certainly did. My wish is simply to add your name to our none too lengthy list of friends, and I'd like Kevin's name listed too. Beyond that, all veils over the future remain drawn, as the good Lord intended. And I'm sorry if I keep putting my foot in it."
"No, it's my fault. I don't know what's got into me. With anyone else I wouldn't be half so edgy - but somehow, with you, I feel the need to be on my guard, heaven knows why. Forgive me?"
"Of course. What say we bury the hatchet in a cup of tea?"
"Gladly, if your aunt has a big enough cup! What was she like? Did you know her well?"
Peter went into a lengthy story about the late Elsie Pendlebury, a prolific writer of children's verses. She'd been a widow for twenty years and died at the age of eighty-seven. She and her husband had bought the house soon after they married.
"Guess how much they originally paid for it," he laughed. "Nearly four-hundred pounds! Now, it's probably worth over ninety-thousand!"
"And who actually owns it now?"
"A good question. I've contacted the old girl's bank and every firm of solicitors in town, but so far there's no sign of any will. The rules of intestacy become irksome when there are no surviving issue or siblings, and I've been given the task of administering the estate. They found my name among some of her papers, so I was one of the first relatives to be notified. I used to love it up here, with the railway close by. Like Kevin, I have a particular fondness for that view from the attic, and many a time I've slept up there!"
Betty's faraway look betrayed thoughts that were elsewhere, and Peter broke off to enquire why.
"Sorry," she confessed. "I was just thinking about Karen - my Karen. If there is a will ..."
"You mean, get in touch with the dead? Sounds a bit spooky!"
"I know! But I'm convinced that our being here is no accident. It's those words she used - BE THERE! Why, Peter, why? I'm here today only because Dan Wright's in hospital, which he wouldn't be if I hadn't involved him in Kevin's troublesome visits from his sister. But was it preordained that my Karen had to die, and your Liz too? Why does anyone have to die ahead of time? Surely we shouldn't blame every disaster on the will of God, otherwise none of it would make sense. We're not like those trains out there, running along predefined tracks. We're intelligent human beings with the freedom to choose."
"Perhaps you've been sent here to give me fresh ideas for sermons! Ever thought of taking holy orders yourself?"
"Not me!" Betty chuckled. "I'm too full of questions, and too short on answers. I'm just an ordinary housewife and mother who's worried about her wayward son. Perhaps we ought to go and check where they've got to."
Peter looked out of the kitchen window. "You think some wicked entity might suddenly push Karen under a train? No, Betty, I have greater faith! Besides, the question's entirely academic, since at this moment they're both racing up the garden path!"
The back door burst open and in came two breathless children.
"It's great!" panted Kevin. "There's a signal further down the line and we saw it change as a train went by."
"And guess what," added Karen. "It was an engine we hadn't seen before. Kevin says it's on loan from the York Museum!"
"Don't tell me you're also interested in trains?" Betty exclaimed.
"Why not?" protested Karen, her face aglow from running. "Kevin's interested in just about everything, same as me!"
Peter smiled. "So you got on well together?"
Kevin nodded eagerly. "Can we both go up to the attic now?"
"Of course - you have freedom of the house. Start making that list for me, and I'll treat you to a ride on the line before you return home!"
Kevin raced upstairs, while Karen held back for a moment to confide in her father. "I like him," she whispered, her eyes fixed on Betty. "In some ways he's just like a girl!"
"I see!" said Peter. "Is that good or bad?"
"It's great!" replied Karen. "It means I can behave normally and don't have to keep remembering he's different!"
"What exactly did he say to you?" asked Betty warily.
"All sorts of things - he chatters non-stop, mostly about railways, explaining why a steam engine has to puff to draw the fire. I knew already, but it seemed polite to listen. And just when I thought he was going to get boring, he stopped to pick me some tiny flowers, and showed me how to make a necklace! Look!"
She held out a neat daisy-chain, draped around her neck.
"So you think you can handle Kevin as a friend?" asked Betty.
"Of course. We're going to start on that list now. He's got a notebook, so we'll use one end for train numbers and the other end for what's in the attic. There's a big metal trunk up there too - are we allowed to open it?"
"Of course," said Peter, "as long as you're careful not to catch your fingers in the lid. No horseplay, please! We've no time to cope with accidents today, even minor ones!"
With the two children occupied upstairs, Peter and Betty began sifting through stacks of papers in an old mahogany writing desk.
"This is where she sat writing her verses," he revealed. "Some of her stuff I find reminiscent of the late Sir John Betjeman, though my aunt never had the same good fortune. She wrote mostly for the love of words, though I'd be happier if she had spent a few minutes writing out a will! Everything's so much easier when there are clear guidelines laid out in a proper will. Then you feel you're doing right by everyone, including the old girl."
"I suppose you've looked in that trunk upstairs?"
Peter laughed. "Feeling melodramatic? That's one of the first places I looked. It's lined with plain brown paper and contains nothing but old clothes!"
"Clothes?" Betty's spine tingled. "What kind of clothes?"
"Just some old outfits of Aunt Elsie's. What's wrong?"
"Kevin and his dressing-up. I feel we're not out of the woods yet with his spiritual comings and goings. I'd better go up and check."
"And how long are you going to keep doing that? Karen's up there. If she senses any trouble, she'll yell louder than a train whistle. Besides, if his worst trick is to dress up in my aunt's old togs, let him get on with it! And talk of the devil - look what I've found."
He handed her a black and white snap of a nurse. "Aunt Elsie, back in her army days!"
"A nurse?"
"That's right. I saw an old uniform in that trunk - but there's nothing of great excitement up there, believe me!"
"You see? It's happening again - everything seems to have a pattern! Of all the garments your Aunt Elsie might have thrust under Kevin's nose, it has to be a nurse's outfit! Where's God's mysterious way taking us this time, or is my son possessed by the devil? What about Dan's book ripped to shreds on the landing - you call that God's will? What possible purpose can be served by blatant vandalism?"
"It brought you up here..."
Peter broke off as he noticed Karen, who'd came silently downstairs and was standing reproachfully in the doorway. "You're not having another argument?"
Betty smiled. "No, poppet! I was just getting anxious about Kevin, wondering how he was getting on."
"Actually," said Karen with an air of concealed mischief, "He's planning a surprise. There's a nurse's uniform upstairs and he wants to know if he can try it on?"
"No," Betty shouted, "tell him he mustn't! Tell him it doesn't belong to him."
But when they reached the attic they found Kevin had already changed and was staring out of the window as if on duty in the Allied trenches! Before Betty could utter a word of reproached, he turned with a peaceful smile that she recognised at once.
"I've got a new poem," he said. "It's not actually meant to rhyme. It's more like Shakespeare, but that's how I like it. Ready?"
He spoke in a slow, dreamy voice that carried an air of finality, as if coming from someone who felt very tired and frail.
"Now everything we wanted has been done," he began with measured precision. "The purpose of our visits is fulfilled, a purpose that involved not only you, but Peter, Karen, Dan and Isobel. Dispel your fear of evil - that is gone; we've done our duty now, and are content. The rest will all unfold in course of time. As God is Love, so Love is part of God, while Death is but a spiritual veil that hangs across an ever open door. Remember! We are ever by your side, watching, guiding, caring for you all."
Peter touched Betty's arm. "There's no doubting the style."
Kevin slowly looked up and grinned sheepishly. "Hey, what's going on? Why have you all come up here? Is it lunch time?"
"Don't you remember, Kevin? You told everyone in the hospital you wanted to be a nurse."
"Sure. But I only wanted to know what it felt like!"
"And how does it feel?" asked Peter.
"Daft! Anyway, this isn't the same sort of uniform, and the name on the badge is written in ink. Sister Pendlebury? Who's she?"
Before his mother could stop him, Kevin unclipped the badge and took out the white card.
"Oh!" he said, handing it to Peter. "It's got printing on the other side!"
Without a word Peter hurried downstairs, while Betty helped Kevin out of the uniform. Then Karen insisted on trying it on, and Betty was just rearranging her hair into an appropriate style of the period when Peter returned, his face aglow with excitement.
"Guess what! Talk about moving in mysterious ways - that name tag was written on the back of a business card from a firm of solicitors in Bedford. Get this - the old girl left a will after all! They wouldn't say much over the phone, except that they'll put more details in tonight's post which should arrive here by tomorrow morning!"
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