The Child’s Secret. Amanda Brooke
cradling, Sam turned to give her his full attention. He asked himself again why setting out a future with Anna should be such a bad thing. He couldn’t deny the attraction and the excitement she brought to his life, but there was something missing and it was missing in him, not her. All she wanted to do was please him and make him happy and, in response, the best he could do was try to lessen the hurt. His pulse began to race. ‘Look, I think you’re a lovely person, Anna—’
Her face fell and she recoiled as if his words had been a slap across her face. ‘You’re not dumping me, are you?’ She gave a nervous laugh as if expecting Sam to immediately tell her not to be so silly.
Nausea was added to the unpleasant mix of feelings Sam was experiencing. ‘How can I break up with you when we barely know each other?’
‘So far,’ she added quickly.
‘I enjoy being with you, Anna, and I would love to keep things as they are, but I can’t help feeling guilty.’
Anna’s eyes were glistening when she asked, ‘Guilty in what way?’
‘I don’t see my life changing, not in the way that I think you might be expecting it to, in the long term at least. I don’t want you investing your time and your emotions in me because I can’t deliver what you want, Anna. You’re young and you’ll want to settle down one day and do the whole family thing.’ Before she had a chance to respond, he added, ‘And I’m sorry, but I can’t give you that. I don’t think I can give anyone that.’
‘Again,’ Anna reminded him.
‘I won’t deny that my past experiences have affected me. They changed my perspective on life, so if you’re looking for a happy ending then you need to find someone else. I’m sorry, Anna, it’s not going to be me.’
‘Why? What happened that could be so bad that you can’t even talk about it? What is it about your ex-wife that holds you prisoner in the past, Sam?’
There had been more venom than balm in Anna’s words and if ever there was going to be a time when Sam would feel able to explain everything to her, it most certainly wasn’t now. ‘I can’t give you what you want.’
They both held their breath a moment. They were standing at a crossroads and each was trying to decide which path to take. Sam could feel himself drawn to the route that would take him back to the lonely life he had become accustomed to, but Anna took his hand.
‘I don’t understand it, but I accept that you have your reasons for not wanting to commit. I won’t deny that I would like a brood of kids one day, and my head is telling me to cut my losses and run, but I like you, Sam. I like you a lot.’
If her words were meant to reassure Sam then they didn’t. Anna’s declaration gave Sam the distinct impression she had invested a lot more emotion in him than he had appreciated.
‘I already have a long list of failed relationships under my belt,’ she continued, ‘and I can’t believe I’m living back home with Mum and Dad but it’s only temporary. Maybe I would like to think we could make a go of things but it’s too soon, I realize that. And what if your stubbornness could work in my favour – it might be what I need to make me think more about being an independent woman for a change and not someone who has to rely on a man. You’re a good thing in my life, Sam, so stop feeling so guilty.’
There was a certain logic to Anna’s argument and Sam did his best to ignore the flaws. They had reached an understanding and, for the moment at least, his conscience had been satisfied.
‘So, if it’s not too terrifying a proposition,’ Anna said. ‘Can I come with you to Wales in the holidays? I could hold your tape measure while you size up Pat’s garden.’
Sam smiled. ‘I would love you to.’
As Sam stood in front of the school entrance, he could hear laughter coming from deep inside where Anna’s play would be drawing to a close. It was a warm summer’s evening and yet Sam hunched his shoulders against a bitter northerly wind that was no more than a memory of a dark Scottish winter. He shuddered as he made his way inside and followed the Blu-tacked signs to the Land of Oz.
When he entered, the school hall was in darkness except for a single spotlight on the stage as Dorothy called out to the friends she had lost in the woods. She kept looking at the stuffed dog tucked under her arm, almost as if she were reading her lines from notes hidden in its fur. Apart from the little girl’s voice, the only other sound came from the creak of the door as Sam closed it behind him. A handful of silhouetted heads turned in his direction and he winced by way of an apology.
It took a moment, but once his eyes adjusted, he found an empty seat on one of the back rows but didn’t immediately move towards it. It wasn’t only his eyes that were adjusting. His pulse was racing and his mouth was dry.
The stage was set ablaze with light as a dozen or so children began stomping about, tripping over the scenery and fluffing their lines. The mixture of pride and tolerance, excitement and nerves coming from the audience was palpable as Sam shuffled along to the empty seat he had spotted. Once settled, he tried to blank out everything that was happening around him by concentrating on an invisible point on the wall to the left of the stage, but this coping strategy simply left space in his mind to be filled with memories that he knew better than to resurrect. He gritted his teeth and flicked his gaze towards the stage, reluctantly accepting that the safest option was to follow the story.
Dorothy had tracked down the Wicked Witch of the West and Sam was quietly impressed by the set. It was clear that more time had gone into making the props and costumes than learning lines. Although it was difficult to recognize faces beneath the elaborate make-up and headgear, it looked as if one of the winged monkeys was none other than the hard-nosed boy who had wished for a branch to fall on Sam’s head. Jasmine was possibly on stage too but according to Anna, she was only a bit player, one of half a dozen Munchkins and without any lines of her own to deliver. There were two Munchkins taking centre stage now and another hiding behind a cardboard tree. The more the shy Munchkin receded into the background, the more convinced Sam was that it was Jasmine.
When the lights went up after the last curtain call, Sam was still staring at the spot on the stage where the little girl had stood. He felt a sense of pride that surprised him. Anna had kept him up to date with the daily dramas surrounding the rehearsals, and while the leading actors had been the focus of her attention, she had occasionally mentioned Jasmine, saying that if she managed to get on stage at all, there was a good chance the poor child would remain there, immobilized by fear. But the stage was empty.
Sam stayed where he was and watched the proud parents milling around until the hall began to clear. He spotted Finn at the front, talking animatedly with one group of parents and then another, his exit continually thwarted. It was quite remarkable to see how Finn was so comfortable being the centre of attention while his daughter was a complete contrast, but then Sam caught a glimpse of the woman walking in his shadow and it became clear where Jasmine had inherited her personality traits as well as her looks. Laura looked to be in her mid-thirties. She was tall and slender with sleek blonde hair pinned up in a twist that looked both casual and elegant. Her eyes were cast down but Sam had no doubt they would be deep blue like her daughter’s.
While Finn chatted away, his wife appeared to take no part in the conversation and when they eventually came level with Sam’s row, she was all but obscured and forgotten by everyone except Sam.
‘Hello, mate,’ Finn called, reaching across the empty seats to shake Sam’s hand. ‘Did we wake you up there? These things do drag on, don’t they?’
‘It was very enjoyable,’ Sam said although the smile gave him away.
‘Are you still interested in going on for something to eat? There’s plenty to choose from along Allerton Road or we could go into town, if you like?’
Sam made a good impression of looking as if he hadn’t given Finn’s offer much thought. ‘Don’t feel obliged if you have other plans.’
‘Nonsense, I’ve been looking