The Runaway Woman

Paula gently rounded on him. ‘Don’t be too hard on her, Martin. You know as well as I do, Lucy is a good woman. She loves the family, and she’s always there for anyone in trouble. She’s a better woman than I will ever be.’

‘I do not believe that. You’ve been through a lot lately. You deserve a bit of fun and love in your life. As for Lucy, I wasn’t running her down. I was just stating the facts. I know it’s a pity, but she will never change, not now.’

‘But she’s a decent sort, whereas I’m just a flighty tart. I spend too much time at the mirror, and too much money having my hair styled and cut. I spend a fortune on make-up, and I couldn’t cook a dinner for four if I tried my best.’

‘Maybe. But you know how to laugh. You can make a man feel good, and you hit life at the run. That’s what makes you so exciting. At the end of the day, that’s what any man wants in his woman: excitement, laughter, being able to discuss anything and nothing with her, and the occasional fierce rows, and ending up in bed together afterwards.’

Paula grew serious. ‘You say that, Martin. But you have a wife who keeps your shirts washed and ironed. She’s good with money. She holds down a job and still manages to put a piping-hot meal in front of you when you sit down at the table. She never walks away from trouble, yet she never yells or argues. And she always puts your welfare and the family’s welfare before her own. Am I right?’

‘I suppose.’ Martin reflected on her words. ‘Yes … Lucy is everything you say, and I love her very much, but not in the way a man should love his wife. And maybe it’s my fault, because I was the one who made her pregnant when we were just schoolkids. After that, there was no choice for either of us. So now, we’re stuck in a life where there is no closeness, no fire, no tenderness, and nothing to look forward to except more of the same.’

When he seemed to lapse into thought, Paula interrupted, ‘So … Martin? Have you thought about my question?’

He gave a deep sigh. ‘Yes.’ His answer was so quiet, she could only just hear it. ‘I would leave Lucy, yes … without a shadow of doubt.’ He craved the idea of making a permanent life with Paula.

But when he reached out to take her, she pushed him away. ‘I think it’s time you went.’

‘What? No kisses, no hugs, just “get off to work”. Is that it?’

‘Yes … for now, anyway. But there’ll be time enough to talk again.’ Her sister, Lucy, was at the forefront of Paula’s mind, and for the slightest moment, she felt small, and deeply ashamed.

As always, though, the moment soon passed.

A short time later, she stood at the kitchen window and watched him hurry away. She was astonished to learn that, like her, Martin wanted them to be together permanently. I never believed you would leave Lucy for me, she thought, and the awful truth is … I would not try to stop you, because even though I love Lucy, I love you more.

Determined to push Lucy from her mind, she set about getting herself ready for work.

Mary Taylor, Paula’s neighbour, called her husband to the window. ‘Look at him run!’ She pointed at Martin as he scuttled down the alley to his van. ‘Like a thief in the night!’ she declared angrily. ‘They should be ashamed … the pair of them! I’ve got a good mind to tell his wife what they’re up to!’

‘You’ll do no such thing.’ Peter was a gentle soul, content with his quiet life. ‘It would only do more harm than good, and besides, I’ve told you before, it’s none of our business. Just leave it be. Let them sort it out in their own way. All right?’

When she turned away without giving him an answer, he insisted, ‘Mary! Promise me you won’t interfere!’

Mary gave a smile and a kind of nod. ‘All right, I hear you! Now stop worrying. Finish your breakfast and go for your newspapers. Oh, and you’d best take Rascal with you.’ She glanced at the little brown terrier stretched out on the rug. ‘He’s been waiting patiently. Don’t wear him out, though. I might take him to the park later, when you’re meeting up with your old cronies.’

‘I won’t wear him out.’

‘Good!’ She discreetly looked her husband up and down, noting the droop of his once-broad shoulders and the grey whiskers in his long, curly beard. She glanced at the little terrier and saw the grey whiskers on his chin also; it made her smile to see the resemblance between man and dog. ‘Take it easy, you two,’ she instructed. ‘Neither of you is as young as you used to be.’

‘Hey! Enough of that. You know what they say: you’re only as old as you feel.’

‘Oh, so you feel young and sprightly, do you?’ Edging towards him, she gave a cheeky wink. ‘Come on then, let’s see what you’re made of.’

‘Don’t be daft, woman. What’s wrong with you?’ He scrambled out of the chair to grab his coat, and she burst out laughing. ‘You’re a wicked woman!’ he chided her.

‘Not as wicked as her down the street!’ Mary retorted. ‘What woman with any decency would bed her own sister’s husband? Not to mention breaking her own marriage by flirting and carrying on with the lodger. Shameful, that’s what it is. I’m not surprised her poor husband fled to the hills.’

‘Behave yourself!’ Peter was never a man to gossip. ‘And anyway, you don’t know she’s “bedding” her sister’s husband.’

‘Take it from me, Peter,’ tapping the side of her nose, she gave a little smile, ‘a woman knows these things.’

‘Right, well, I’m off. Come on, Rascal!’ The little dog was already at the door, chasing backwards and forwards with his tongue hanging out.

When Peter opened the door, the dog set off at a run, clambering at the garden gate, impatient to be away.

Deep in thought, Mary resumed her chores at the sink, one eye on her husband as he went down the garden path. ‘Huh! Don’t tell me that little slut is not bedding Martin Lovejoy, because I would bet my life on it,’ she muttered.

Less than two miles away, Martin drew up at the old barn he was renovating. He yanked on the brake, then switched off the van engine.

He began whistling merrily, happy in the knowledge that Paula wanted the same things he did, but fell silent a moment later when Lucy crept into his mind.

For a few painful minutes he continued to think about Lucy, and how she would react if he ever had the courage to tell her about him and Paula. It’s sure to be a messy, hurtful business if I break with Lucy, he thought, leaning back in his seat. Lucy and me, though … he slowly shook his head … there’s just nothing there, and hasn’t been for a long time. At least not on my side.

He was truly sorry about Lucy, but he was determined to grab his happiness as soon as he could. It wasn’t her fault … they had been just kids learning about life. Too young to realise the consequences of what they did.

Looking back, he believed he was more to blame than Lucy. Me … the big man in the school ground … I had to have her, and I’ve paid the price ever since. Serves me bloody right! Thumping the dashboard, he softly cursed, thinking back, hating himself, hating Lucy, then loving her. I just can’t spend the rest of my life with her … not now I know that Paula wants me, he decided.

He tried to visualise what Lucy might say when he told her he and Paula were planning to live together. Lucy would get over it … she would! She was a sensible woman. She took things in her stride, always had.

Assuring himself that Lucy would cope, he thought of the wonderful times he’d enjoyed with Paula. He and Paula belonged together, and to hell with anyone who didn’t like the idea!

He couldn’t wait to start a new life with his sister-in-law. But before that could happen, there was much to be done. He thought of his children, Anne and Sam. They, too, would be hurt, he knew, but as far as he was concerned there was no alternative.

Taking a deep breath, he blew it back out in a long sigh. His decision was made. Sorry, Lucy, love, but life is too short for regrets. I can’t live with someone I don’t love … not any more.

Before he announced his decision, though, he had to be absolutely certain that Paula really meant what she said. They must have another serious conversation.

After he’d spoken with Paula, he would know which way to go.

Settled on his plan of action, Martin scrambled out of the van, grabbed his tools and headed off to work with a determined stride. He had so much to think about, his head was spinning. His troubled thoughts kept coming back to Lucy, that gentle, good woman who had given him two much-loved children. She was one of Nature’s mothers: always there when needed.

The truth was that just to be with Paula fired Martin with excitement, while Lucy was just there; like a shadow in the corner, like an ornament you might bring out and polish now and then. She had little to say and even fewer opinions to share. There was no spirit, no naughtiness, or humour of any kind. She was just Lucy, content in her own little world. Happiest when she had family about her.

But though she brought no excitement to his life, she was the mother of his children, and grandmother of his daughter’s child.

Other than that, Lucy was simply a sad relic of his wasted youth.

And yet, for all that, he was loath to hurt her.

PART TWO

CHAPTER THREE

KATHLEEN RILEY AND Lucy Lovejoy had worked together at the plastics factory for almost two years. It was a busy, happy firm, turning out all manner of plastic goods, including watering cans, children’s tea sets, and see-through plastic macs, which were one of the company’s best sellers.

Lucy made the belts for the macs, and Kathleen made the collars. Other workers joined all the pieces together and when finished, the macs were attractive, very fashionable and easy to wear.

Sitting at the machines all day was physically demanding work, especially on the legs, which were required to push back and forth with the swing of the metal welder which dropped down rhythmically to seal the pieces together.

At the end of the week, the size of the wage packet depended on how many pieces each worker had produced, which was an incentive for everyone to work hard.

Having started on the same day and followed the training programme together, Lucy and Kathleen had quickly become the best of workmates, though because of Lucy’s family commitments, they only very occasionally met up outside of work.

Today Kathleen was worried about Lucy, who had hardly spoken a word since being summoned to the manager’s office earlier. In the end Kathleen just had to ask outright.

‘Hey, Lucy, is everything OK? Has the ol’ dragon had a go at you?’

Short and curvy, with chocolate-coloured eyes, and red curly hair, Kathleen had her hair pinned back so tightly she looked like she’d been in a wind tunnel.

When Lucy seemed not to have heard, Kathleen left her machine to hurry across to her. ‘Has she given you a dressing-down because you had the day off yesterday?’ Aware of the others watching, she quickly lowered her voice. ‘Don’t let her get you down. Sometimes her bark is worse than her bite. You’re a good worker. She knows you would never be late if there wasn’t a problem.’

Lucy was close to tears. ‘That’s the trouble,’ she admitted. ‘There’s always a problem of one kind or another. When I think everything’s going well, and I can rest easy, something happens to mess things up.’

‘Ah! But y’see, Lucy, that’s sometimes the way of it with families, but it won’t always be like that. You’re going through a bad patch at the minute, but it’s not your fault.’ Glancing up to see the foreman on the prowl nearby, she edged away. ‘Look, I’d best get on, but we’ll talk later. Meantime, don’t let the buggers get you down!’

Having quickly returned to her workbench, Kathleen was head down and working hard, until the shriek of the lunchtime buzzer pierced the air. ‘Come on, time for a break, Lucy!’ she called out, but Lucy was already on her feet.

‘Get your bag, Lucy, and let’s get outta here,’ Kathleen said. ‘Me poor ol’ feet have swelled up like two fat puddings, so they have.’

Lucy felt much the same. Sitting at the machines for hours was punishing. With a sense of relief the workers began to filter away in different directions: some to the canteen, some to the alley where they would have a quick cigarette; others headed to the four corners of the factory yard, to flop down wherever they felt comfortable.

Outside in the clean, fresh air, Lucy and Kathleen settled themselves on the wall at the back of the factory, with their legs dangling over the edge and their flasks of tea sitting side by side.

‘I’ve got cheese.’ Kathleen opened her lunch bag. ‘What have you got?’

‘Ham and tomato.’ Lucy offered up her box. ‘Want to swap?’

‘Oh, aren’t you the little angel now?’ Kathleen did not need asking twice. Holding out her puny sandwich, she made the exchange and licked her lips. ‘Go on then, Lucy. Your sandwiches are always better than mine.’

After pouring tea from the flask into a plastic cup, Kathleen was intent again on knowing what had been said in the manager’s office earlier. ‘She’s upset you, hasn’t she … the old divil?’ Kathleen gently pursued the subject. ‘You mustn’t let her get you down.’ Taking a bite of her sandwich, she waited for Lucy’s response.

Lucy remained silent for what seemed an age, and then she dug into her overall pocket and handed Kathleen an official-looking envelope. ‘Here. Read that.’

Kathleen gingerly opened it and read what it contained.

‘Jaysus, will ye look at that! An official, written warning … You should inform the union about this!’

‘No!’ Official aggravation of that kind was the last thing Lucy wanted. ‘Considering how many times I’ve been late, or not turned in at all, it’s like she said: I’m unreliable. She has every right to issue a formal warning. She also made it clear that if I can’t keep to regular hours from now on, or if I miss one more day without prior notice – unless it’s a matter of life and death – then I’ll be given my walking papers on the spot!’

She looked at the sandwich she was holding for a moment before sneaking it back into her lunch box. She had not only lost her appetite but, after the grilling she had been through in the office, she felt like a hopeless failure.

Kathleen had seen her reject the sandwich. ‘Hey,’ she pointed to Lucy’s lunch box, ‘you can’t go without yer food. Sure, that won’t solve nothing at all!’ She did understand how Lucy must be feeling, though. ‘Look, Lucy, I really think you should inform the union. Let me talk to the steward – he’s a sensible man. He’ll have a quiet word with her. Sure, it doesn’t have to go any further than that if you don’t want it to.’

Fearful, Lucy told her to leave it be and, being the good friend she was, Kathleen promised she would not say another word, though she was a natural rebel and could not be certain she would keep such a promise.

From previous conversations between herself and Lucy, it was clear to Kathleen that the family did put upon Lucy’s good nature, and she felt she had to mention it now. ‘As far as I can see, Lucy …’ she hesitated, before going on, ‘… there is only one solution to this.’

Intrigued, Lucy hitched herself further onto the wall. ‘Oh, and what’s that, then?’

‘Look, don’t take offence, but you must stop being a buffer for the family. They’re old enough to sort out their own problems. It’s not right that they should come running to you at every little hurdle. Y’see, the more you let them lean on you, the less responsible they’ll become for their own actions and misfortunes.’

‘But they’re my family, Kathleen. I can’t turn away from them when they come to me for help.’

‘Sure, I understand that, and I’ve helped my own family many a time – show me a parent who hasn’t – but we have to draw a line. We have to let them live and learn, allow them to search for their own solutions, otherwise how will they ever cope? I mean, you won’t be here for ever, will you, so how will they manage when you’re not there to pick up the pieces?’

‘I know what you mean. But it’s hard not to do what you can, if there’s a problem.’

‘True, but all I’m saying is, you need to be sure whether it’s a problem they could deal with themselves, and if it is, then you should maybe just give advice. That way, it’s right for them, and right for you. I’ve got four grown-up children, as you know, Lucy, and I promise you it took a long time for me to realise I could step back and leave them to deal with their lives themselves … much as we had to do when we were their ages.’

She laughed out loud. ‘I’ll admit we had a few hairy moments with our son Michael. He was the wild card of the family. Even after he got married and had a child, he leaned on us at every turn. But I promise you, we got there in the end, and so will you.’

When one of their colleagues threw a rolled-up newspaper to them, Kathleen caught it and quickly flicked through the pages.

‘Look at this!’ Holding the pages open, she showed Lucy the photograph of three young men. ‘Would you believe, killed in a car smash on the way to a mate’s wedding. They were so young … the families must have been devastated. But there you are … It just goes to show, you never know what’s round the corner, do you?’

Realising she and Lucy were the last two left outside, Kathleen leaped off the wall. ‘Hell’s bells, Lucy! Everybody’s gone. If we don’t get our backsides in there, we’ll know well enough what’s round the corner! It’ll be the length of the ol’ dragon’s tongue, so it will!’

With thoughts of those three young men in their minds, Lucy and Kathleen made their way back inside the factory.

‘I don’t know what I’d do if I got my walking orders from here,’ Lucy confided to Kathleen as they hurried to their machines. ‘If I lost my job, whatever would I tell Martin and the children?’

Kathleen wagged a finger at her. ‘There you go again!’ she chided. ‘More concerned about the family than you are about yourself! Put yourself first for a change, Lucy Lovejoy! Do that, and the chances of you losing your job will be less likely. OK?’ She gave Lucy a friendly wink.

Lucy smiled. ‘OK.’ In truth, she would not even know how to start putting herself first.

Eventually the loud screech of the works’ siren marked the end of another working day. The machines were switched off and an eerie silence fell across the vast open space of the factory floor.

Very soon, though, the silence was shattered by the march of many feet as the workers made their way out. And then the noise of hurrying feet was quickly overridden by shouts and laughter as everyone relaxed into ‘going home’ mode.

As always, Kathleen and Lucy merged with the other workers on their way out, but at the outer gates Lucy split away from Kathleen. ‘I’m walking home tonight,’ she explained.

Kathleen was surprised. ‘Even if you cut through the alleys, it’s a fair old walk to your street. But why walk when you can catch the bus as usual and be home that much earlier?’

Lucy shrugged. ‘No particular reason. I just need to think, that’s all.’

‘You’re not fretting about getting a warning, are you, Lucy? Because I’ve told you, if need be we can get the union onto it.’

But Lucy was adamant. ‘No, Kathleen, I don’t want that. Anyway, I won’t give her the chance to carpet me again … not if I can help it, anyway.’

‘All right, Lucy, no union,’ Kathleen conceded. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow. Mind how you go, eh?’

‘You too, and thanks, Kathleen.’

‘What for?’

‘Well … for siding with me, and listening to my troubles.’

‘You’re welcome. Ooh, there’s Barney!’ Kathleen spied the foreman, a handsome man some ten years older than Kathleen. ‘I’ve been meaning to ask him about my machine. It keeps playing up.’ She gave a naughty wink. ‘’Bye, Lucy … see you.’

Lucy had to chuckle. ‘Shame on you, Kathleen Riley, you brazen little hussy!’

She set off, leaving the effervescent Kathleen openly flirting with the foreman.

Turning the corner, Lucy crossed the street and headed for the park. A few quiet minutes there would be just lovely. She reminded herself of how often she used to walk home through that way, but she had not done so for some time, and anyway, the nights were only now drawing out after the harsh winter.

Lately, she seemed never to have the time to linger. Instead, she was forever chasing her tail, with no opportunity to relax.

Now, though, in spite of the teasing breeze, she was determined to follow her instinct. The closer she got to the park gates, the quicker she walked, and the lighter her weary heart felt. There was something magical about the park, with its secret, meandering pathways and majestic trees.

In spring, the park was a surprise and a delight, with its curving swathes of wild flowers, all mixed in with cultivated plants. The riot of colour and profusion could take one’s breath away.

Deep in thought, Lucy reflected on that meaningful little talk with Kathleen at lunchtime. It was right what Kathleen had said about never knowing what was round the corner.

Lucy recognised how her own world had become small and restricted. She suddenly recalled her mother’s prophetic words of many years ago, when she and Paula were schoolgirls. ‘I think Lucy will be the home-maker,’ their mother had remarked.

She also made a light-hearted prediction for her younger daughter. ‘As for our Paula, it wouldn’t surprise me if she turned out to be a home-breaker.’

It was no secret that while Lucy was her father’s favourite, Paula was close to their mother. However wayward Paula had been when growing up, and however much anguish she had brought her parents, that bond between mother and daughter had not changed over the years.

It was not in Lucy’s character to be jealous, for she loved all her family in equal measure. Knowing her sister’s penchant for trouble, Lucy was given the responsibility of looking out for Paula. As instructed by both her concerned parents, Lucy would walk her younger sister to and from school.

She was also expected to make sure that Paula actually went into her designated classroom because, being something of a rebel, Paula would not think twice about playing truant, but even though Lucy carried out her given responsibilities with much diligence, the truant officer was forever out and about, searching for Paula.

He once caught Paula playing in the park, and throwing stones at the ducks as they strutted about. Another time he found her playing football in one of the local backstreets with two boys truanting from a different school.

When the truant officer marched all three back to their schools, they giggled and sniggered as though it was all a great adventure.

Shepherded into the headmaster’s office, the boys each suffered the slicing heat of a wicker cane on their buttocks. The pain was such that it reduced them to tears, but not so great as to stop them from truanting again.

Paula suffered a severe lecture from her head teacher, who warned her of her wanton ways. She also received two strokes of the best on the palm of each hand, which she endured without even a flinch.

At his wits’ end, her father banned her from leaving the house after school for a period of two weeks.

To his younger, more defiant daughter, that was the worst punishment of all.

Having taken her little dog for a long walk around the far reaches of the park, Mary Taylor walked him back through the spinney, where she was immensely thankful to sit on a bench and get her breath back.

‘You’re a demanding little thing!’ She tickled Rascal’s hairy neck. ‘I would never part with you, though, because, hard work or not, I love the bones of you.’

Taking a moment to stretch her aching back, she took a deep, invigorating breath, while chatting to herself as she often did. ‘Well, Mary, you’ve enjoyed the fresh air, you’ve been dragged round the park by this bag of fur,’ she glanced at the dog, ‘and you’ve stretched your legs to breaking point, so now it’s time for home.’

When the dog yapped at her as though in disagreement, she told him firmly, ‘We’ve had enough excitement for one day. You might be ready for another round, but I’m well and truly done in!’ She wagged a bony finger at him. ‘I’m sure I don’t know whose bones must ache the most, yours or mine!’

Tightening the scarf round her neck and shoulders, she addressed the little dog as though he understood every word. ‘I never meant to stay out this long. What’s more, I’m thoroughly ashamed of you, chasing that poor moggy up a tree. I’ve a good mind to ban you from the park for a week. That should teach you some manners!’

Looking up, she was surprised to see Lucy making her way along the bottom pathway. ‘Lucy!’ Mary called out to her. ‘Lucy Lovejoy!’

Pleased to see her sister’s kindly neighbour, Lucy hurried towards her. ‘Hello, Mary. How are you?’

‘Hmm! You might well ask.’ Mary gave a little groan. ‘I should have been at home by now, sitting at the fire with a cup of soup to warm my bones. As it is, I’m late getting back, and all because this little devil has a thing for chasing cats up trees.’

She went on to describe the adventure in great detail. ‘The poor moggy was terrified, but your lordship here,’ she pointed to Rascal, ‘he thought it was great fun, yapping at her to come down. And when I did manage to persuade the poor thing down it swiped at me with its claws fully drawn before taking off. Like a bat out of hell, it was!’

Lucy wagged a finger at the scowling dog. ‘That wasn’t very nice, was it, trapping the poor thing up a tree?’

‘The cat wasn’t altogether innocent,’ Mary explained. ‘The moggy started it by chasing the birds round and round. When Rascal went after her, she fought back and Rascal got the worst of it. After licking his wounds, he went after the cat again, but she shot up to the highest branch, leaving him in a right frenzy.’

She slumped back on the bench. ‘We must have walked ten miles; round and round we went. We came back the longest way, past the gardens and on through the spinney. To tell you the truth, Lucy, I’m about done in!’

Lucy could see how tired Mary was. ‘You shouldn’t be rushing and chasing about. You’ll do yourself an injury.’

‘I know, but I do enjoy it, though I’m not sure whose feet ache the most, his or mine.’

Lucy changed the subject. ‘How’s Peter? I haven’t seen either of you, not since I paid my sister a visit. That must be, what, over a week back.’ She tutted. ‘Goodness! How time flies.’

‘Yes, and yes again. We’re both fine, thank you, Lucy.’

Mary was reminded of the bad fall Lucy’s mother had suffered at the market some time back. ‘How’s your mum, by the way, since she tumbled down the market steps?’

‘Oh, she’s getting there bit by bit. Her wounds are healed, but she’s really nervous of going out. Dad coaxed her back to the market the other day, to build her confidence. He walked her gently up and down the stairway where she fell and hurt herself.’

‘He did right, but it can’t have been easy for your mum,’ Mary sympathised.

‘That’s true. Dad said she was a bag of nerves, that he lost count of how many times she wanted to go home. We’re all so worried about her. She frets a lot more than she used to. She’s got a habit of pacing up and down all the time. It’s as if she can’t rest,’ Lucy confided. ‘And she’s got really forgetful of late. It’s not like her at all.’

‘Give her time, Lucy. She’s had a shock to the system, and that can often be worse than a physical injury.’

‘She’s started forgetting things, like putting food in the cooker and leaving it to burn. Last week she ran a bath and came downstairs, leaving the taps running. It was only when Dad saw the water dripping from the kitchen ceiling that he realised what she’d done. He phoned us, and Martin went round to check for any damage, but thankfully it wasn’t too bad once he’d dried it all out.’ Lucy went on, ‘I’m trying to persuade Mum to see the doctor, but she’s being difficult about it.’

‘You’re a good daughter,’ Mary told her, ‘and you’re right in persuading her to see a doctor. I’m sure it can be all sorted out.’

Lucy hoped so. ‘I don’t know what’s happening, Mary. Just lately, it’s one thing after another.’

In that moment, Mary thought of how things were worse than Lucy could possibly imagine, with her two-timing husband and her own sister having a full-blown affair. It was a wicked and shocking betrayal. After what she had witnessed the previous morning, the knowledge that those two were cheating on Lucy had been gnawing at her ever since.

She was on the verge of telling Lucy what was going on behind her back, but then she remembered how Peter had been dead set against either of them getting involved.

Mary, however, did not agree with sweeping it all under the table, and besides, she believed that Lucy deserved to know the truth. One way or another, she must make Lucy aware of what was going on. She had been agonising over it, but how could she tell Lucy without actually getting herself and Peter involved?

While she thought of it now, a sudden, sneaky idea came to her. Yes! The answer was right there all the time.

Lucy’s quiet voice jolted Mary out of her thoughts. ‘Mary, are you all right?’

Startled, Mary looked up. ‘Oh, Lucy, I am sorry. Yes, I’m fine … I was just thinking.’

Lucy understood. ‘I expect you’re tired, what with Rascal’s adventure and everything.’

‘You’re right. I was close to nodding off.’

Mary bitterly regretted having to deceive Lucy, but it was the best way if she and Peter were not to be drawn in. But she had to do it now, in case it was a while before she saw Lucy again. ‘Lucy?’