Full Circle (24 page)

Yes, Ted knew what she meant right enough. ‘What? Here? This land all belongs to the farm. He'd have registered if he'd seen any stranger about. Don't let yourself get ideas like that. We shall bring her home, never you fear. Come on now, Guv, or your dinner'll be getting chilled.'

Like an obedient child, Harold let himself be ‘quick marched' back to a surprised Eva waiting for Ted with dinner ready in her cottage while the other three split up. But there was nowhere to search except the wood and, as Jo had said, if that's where she was she would surely be screaming.

When Ted Johnson returned from delivering Harold to Eva he could hear voices from various parts of the wood as they called Ali's name. So they hadn't found her. They must have crossed the ditch on that narrow bridge consisting of two planks, so he decided not to cross it but to follow the grassy, uncultivated edge to the field and continue on the same side. Surely if Harold had dumped her on the ground she would have been more likely to have stayed in the open than go into a dark and overgrown wood. Ted imagined the scene: the ball thrown and lost and the little girl being put on her own feet so that they could both look for it. Poor old Harold, Ted thought, despite the trouble his forgetfulness was causing. His heart may never have been in working the land, but young or old you couldn't help liking him. Leo was a chip off the old block, too. Wonder if there's any truth in the word that's going around about him and Louisa Harding. Most men would give anything for a wife like Bella – and to be fair to Leo, he always seems nice enough to the girl. But from the gossip Eva had heard in the village store he was always stuck round at that Retreat place, just like his old man before him.

For all Ted let his thoughts wander, he looked around him as he walked. Perhaps the little lass had wriggled through a gap in the hedge and was wandering in the field of sweetcorn. But it was while that thought was forming that he noticed something colourful in the ditch. This was the first good day for a while and the constant rain had filled it. But there was something … something pink … Oh, God, no, don't let it be too late. Oh, God, please, God, help me … He slid down into the ditch, which held about eighteen inches of water, and paddled towards the little body lying where it had fallen.

‘Bella!' he yelled at the top of his powerful voice. ‘Bella, back here.'

In what seemed like no more than seconds Bella had fought her way through the dark and neglected wood and appeared on that side of the ditch near the plank bridge.

‘You've found her. Thank God—' She stood stock still, breaking off mid-sentence as she saw the two of them, the tiny figure lying on the ground with Ted kneeling over her, trying everything he knew to try and empty her lungs of water from the ditch and start her breathing. Seeing Bella, he shook his head helplessly. She must have run towards him but she wasn't aware of what she did as she fell to her knees and lifted Ali, cradling her in her arms.

‘No, no, please God, no.' Sobbing, she crushed the inert little body against her, knowing that all her cries for help couldn't bring life back. ‘It's my fault. Oh, Ali, I let you go with him. Please, God, don't take her, anything else but not Ali. She's just little – she's not even had a life yet.'

The other two had heard Ted's shout too and were standing helplessly by. If Ted were honest he felt useless too, but he knew it had to be up to him to help Bella, so standing up he bent over her as he said, ‘Stand up, Bella, my dear, I'll help you. Give her to me to carry.'

‘No! I want her.' She stood up with Ted's help but her grip on Ali didn't loosen; in life Ali would have fought against being crushed like it. And so the procession back to the house started.

The next few hours passed like a dream, or more truthfully, like a nightmare. Eva Johnson kept Harold out of the way. With the exception of Ted, the men returned to the fields. They had orders to fill, vegetables to be prepared and boxed and taken to the station. Usually it was Ted who wrote the labels and checked the packing before the crates were loaded into the lorry, but on that Wednesday the two men worked without supervision. Neither put it into words; in fact, they went about their work in silence, but they felt this was the only way they could show their sympathy for the tragedy that had befallen Ridgeway.

Where do tears come from? Even in her misery Bella wondered whether she would ever find she had used them all, for although her crying had grown quieter it certainly hadn't stopped. She took off all of Ali's sodden clothes and washed her, even her hair, in the bath. Then, lifting her out, alone with her in the bathroom, she moved her face over the wet little body, smothering it with kisses. And all the while she cried, making her face red and blotchy, her eyes almost closed by their swollen and reddened lids. She neither knew nor cared what she looked like – she had only one objective and that was to make sure Ali had every trace of the ditch washed away. Then she re-dressed the little girl, putting on her best sunshine-yellow dress, little yellow socks and patent leather shoes, which brought a further torrent of tears as she remembered the excitement there had been when they had bought them only the previous week. For the last time she brushed Ali's hair and then lowered her to lay her down in her cot.

Hearing a step by the door, for a moment she thought Leo must be home. In her present state it didn't even occur to her that until that moment she hadn't thought about him and now it had gone from her mind completely that he wouldn't be home until the next day. But of course, it wasn't Leo. Ted had telephoned the surgery and been told Dr Saunders was on his round of house visits, but Mrs Saunders suggested she could make an appointment for his evening surgery.

‘No, Mrs Saunders m'am, it's not an illness.' And then he'd told her. She'd remembered the baby and her gentle and sweet mother; she had seen them on one or two occasions when the young baby had had her first vaccinations and more recently another against polio.

‘Oh, my dear,' she had said, her hushed tone telling him her genuine shock at the news he had had to tell her. ‘I know where he's visiting, I'll telephone immediately.'

And so when Bella looked up from where she was bending over the cot, it was the doctor she saw. She shook her head, her face contorting as she tried to speak.

‘No good.' Somehow she managed to get the words out. ‘Gone. Ali's gone.'

The doctor was no stranger to death and his manner was always kindly, but on that occasion he found himself taking Bella in his arms as though she were his own daughter. He felt helpless. Indeed, anyone, even Leo, would have been helpless against heartbreak such as this. Bella just wanted to die with her.

‘She's all alone … doesn't know about dying … be frightened … want me …' It was beyond her to make a proper sentence. What words she could manage came out in bursts as she sobbed from the depths of her being.

‘She'll never be alone, my dear. You may not see her but you will never lose her. As long as you love her – and you will love her as long as you live – she will know.'

‘How can she?' It wasn't like gentle Bella to sound so aggressive. ‘She can't know anything if she isn't alive.'

‘Listen to me, child.' Dr Saunders' tone was a complete contradiction to hers. A man nearing retirement, he had dealt with life at its most joyful and its most despairing. ‘Think of her lying each night in that cot, asleep. Are you saying that while she slept she didn't know she was loved? When she woke and cried out for you, that was because something had disturbed her contented sleep. Sleeping she felt loved; waking she was temporarily alone and needed reassurance. Look at her, my dear,' he turned her towards the cot, ‘does she look frightened? No, she is content and peaceful, wrapped in the love that will never fail her.'

‘And what about
me
?' After so much crying, Bella's face felt stiff and she could barely form the words.

‘I have no such comforting words for you, child. I wish I had. You will feel lost, empty, the purpose gone from your days. I know because I have travelled that road myself when my wife and I lost our son. He was eight. By now he would have been thirty-six. Like you, I didn't know how to face the rest of my life. But from somewhere there comes an inner strength. You never forget. That's how I know it's true when I tell you that your Alicia—'

‘Ali,' Bella interrupted, the single word coming out with unexpected force.

‘… your Ali will never be alone. She will be loved as long as you draw breath.'

Bella looked at the kindly man, seeming to see him afresh. ‘You lost your little boy?' she said. ‘How did you bear it?'

The doctor held her gaze steadily. He knew truth was the only way.

‘There is no easy way. Each day was a battle and so it will be for you and your husband. There is no magic cure. Just go on loving little Ali, don't try and escape the pain by not thinking of her. Remember her laugh, remember every blessed day you've had her. And wrap her in love. What happened today will leave a scar on you for as long as you live, but one day you will find you are able to find comfort in memory. But before you reach that stage, you have a difficult road to tread.'

‘Every day she was happy. No more days.' Her voice was flat. Dr Saunders couldn't tell whether he had been able to help her.

‘I'm afraid I have to examine her before I can confirm the cause of death.' This was one of the moments when he would rather be doing any work than his own.

Bella's misery had been overtaken by numbness. Standing by, she appeared to be watching as the kindly doctor handled her little girl. Indeed, she saw his every movement and yet she couldn't take in the truth of what was happening. With the certificate written he turned his attention back to her.

‘Your husband has been contacted, no doubt.' It was a statement, not a question.

‘He went to Reading – working, you see. He telephoned to say he wouldn't be back until tomorrow.'

‘But, my dear, can't you contact him? It's not fair to you and not to him either. He should be here.'

‘He's staying the night with friends. That's why he phoned. I don't know where they live or what their phone number is.'

He was puzzled. In the circumstances she described he would have expected her to be distraught that he wasn't with her, but she replied like a child saying what she had been taught was the polite thing.

‘Try and think of a way of finding him. Do you know these friends' name?'

She nodded. ‘But I don't know where they live. He didn't tell me.'

For one brief moment the doctor imagined the patients waiting for him, but he thrust the thought from his mind. This girl's needs were greater than theirs.

‘Would Mr Carter Senior be able to throw any light on it? I know his mind isn't what it was, but sometimes people remember unexpected things from the past even when they can't—'

‘No!' Her voice was shrill, and he saw the terror in her eyes. ‘No! I can't see him! Don't let him come in here!' She was shaken with hard, dry sobs. ‘I should have watched him. They were in the garden. “Shall we play ball, Grandpa?” That's what she said. Then they were gone. I didn't know where he'd taken her. Hate him! He didn't even care. He was just looking for a ball.'

There could be no words of comfort.

‘Shall we go downstairs and see if you can lay your hands on an address book? Or perhaps there is the telephone number of these friends listed. Come, my dear, let's try to find your husband.'

As suddenly as her outburst had started, so it quietened, leaving only the occasional hiccough as she took a gasping breath. Without protest she let the doctor guide her out of Ali's room. As they made for the stairs he was relieved to see through the landing window that Ted Johnson was hovering outside the house. A thoroughly good man and one young Mrs Carter would be comfortable with. On the way out he would stop and have a word with him. But first he would help the poor girl find her husband.

The up-to-date house telephone book listed no one called Gibbins, but when Bella went to replace it she saw that there was an older version still kept. And there she found the number.

‘I'll leave you to talk with him, my dear. If there is anything,
anything
at all you want me for, you have my number. I made sure it was in your book,' he added with a smile.

Perhaps it was the smile that helped her remember how indebted she was to him for the way he had talked to her. Whatever the reason, she managed to force her face into a grimace, which she intended to show her gratitude.

‘You have been so kind – the things you told me. I'll try – I won't fail her, my poor ba—' But she couldn't say it. With the corners of her mouth clenched tightly between her teeth she made herself ask, ‘How much would she have known? She must have called for me.' Her words were hardly audible; it took every bit of her willpower to ask the question.

‘In my opinion she would have known nothing, and certainly she wouldn't have been conscious to call. The bump on her temple tells me that she was unconscious before she fell right into the water. A happy little girl on an adventure.'

‘Why couldn't he have watched her? Damned old fool. He promised.'

‘He loved her dearly. Each time he comes to me he talks about her with great love and pride. My dear, make your phone call. Share your grief with Leo. Alicia – Ali – was the most precious thing in his life, as she was in yours.' After he'd said it he wondered at his choice of words, but she seemed not to have noticed. So he let himself out and, while she was asking to be put through to the Gibbins' number, he stopped for a word with Ted.

‘Hello. This is Jane Gibbins.'

‘Mrs Gibbins, may I speak to Leo? It's urgent, terribly urgent.'

‘Leo? Leo who?'