Searching for Sofia, page 6
* * *
Jack’s brush with the law shook him up. Never had he imagined sitting opposite a policeman explaining why he’d vandalised a phone or being driven home in a police vehicle.
In the days that followed, Jack was determined to remain calm. Surely the sergeant, with the investigative skills of the Victorian Police Force at his fingertips, would locate Sofia for him. Each morning he rose early, washing and eating breakfast with his parents; and when William left for work, he went out into the garden, weeding, digging and mowing. At ten thirty am each morning, Marian carried a tray to the back patio and they drank tea and ate biscuits together. After their morning tea, Jack accompanied his mother to the shops, pulling her wicker basket on wheels for her; and on their return, he finished another hour outdoors before eating lunch and then lying down on his bed for an hour. He’d try to read and then sleep, but mostly he just stared at the ceiling, and from time to time he’d retrieve the crumpled notepaper and look at the phone number. The slip of paper with four digits neatly written in the bank manager’s handwriting was the nearest thing to physical contact that he’d had with Sofia, and yet even that had proved fruitless.
The sergeant was right. If Jack knew the address to where this phone number led, he couldn’t have resisted arriving on its doorstep. Pounding the door. Calling for Sofia. Begging to be let in. Even now, having been told that Sofia was no longer there, he wasn’t satisfied. He wanted to go there—hunt through each room. Open every cupboard, check every nook and cranny, just in case she was lost somewhere within the walls of the refuge and they couldn’t find her—as irrational as that sounded. What he would give just to see the bed that she’d lain in. To lie on it, as if by absorbing her lingering presence, he might capture her thoughts and guess her movements.
And six days later, the news that he’d been waiting for arrived—in person, for he heard the knock on the door and Marian’s call, ‘Jack, you need to come down. A policeman is here to speak with you.’
Jack knew it was Sergeant O’Neil. He must have found out something. Rising, he was not sure if he wanted to leap for joy and run towards the news, or if he should drag his feet, slow everything down and delay having to hear words that were beyond anything he could bear.
‘There you are, Jack.’ Sergeant O’Neil stood from where he’d been sitting in the lounge-room and shook his hand, then followed with a pat on his back. ‘How are you doing? It’s all very difficult, I know.’
Did he really? Jack wondered, staring back. ‘Have you heard something?’
‘Well, I guess you could say it’s both good news and bad news. Sofia appears to be safe and well. That’s good news, isn’t it?’
Jack nodded. Of course it was.
‘However, her name was on the passenger list for the Strathnaver, which left for London last Thursday. It took a while, but we’ve contacted the ship and corroborated that Sofia is on board, and she appears to be well. It’s a little awkward. We don’t want to make things too difficult for her, you know, have the entire ship gossiping about her, but I requested via the captain that she be asked to return a message to you, you being her husband and all. I have it here.’
Jack’s hands trembled as he accepted the telegram the sergeant offered him.
DEAR JACK STOP GOING TO AUSTRALIA WAS A TERRIBLE MISTAKE I KNOW THAT NOW STOP YOU BELONG THERE AND I BELONG IN SPAIN STOP I WISH YOU TO PLEASE FIND HAPPINESS AGAIN
Jack shook his head incredulously even as he read the words. No... no... What was she thinking? Did she think so little of him that she’d leave? Despise him so much that she’d cross the world to get away from him? It could not be any more clear—she did not wish to see him again. Blood pounded in his ears with a swishing sensation and he slumped onto the table, his head in his hands.
First Scotty, now Sofia—gone from him forever!
‘Jack, what’s happened?’ He barely comprehended Marian’s presence as she stared at him, tears streaming down her cheeks.
‘Mum, she’s gone.’ And for the first time in two decades, he leaned against his mother’s breast and cried as though his heart would break.
‘There, there... It will be alright; you wait and see... shh...’
Over his mother’s shoulder, through blurred eyes, Jack saw the sergeant pick up his hat and find his way to the front door, pausing on the threshold, and looking toward him with a look of sorrow before he departed, quietly closing the front door behind him.
Chapter 5
‘What do you mean, you want to go to Montsalvat? Why?’ Margaret’s voice was sharp.
‘I need to get some things.’
‘Do you want me to drive you there? Are you sure this is a good idea?’
‘Margaret, I am going out there today whether you want to come or not. I don’t care either way.’ Jack felt a tiny stab of guilt when he saw Margaret wince at the sharpness of his words.
‘Okay, then. Let’s go.’
He followed her down the hall. He’d been surprised when she’d arrived this morning and assumed that his mother had called her. Today he felt disconnected from them both. He could see them and hear them, but their presence felt dreamlike.
He’d watched her hug first his mother, then his father when they met at the front doorstep. He’d heard his mother’s words. ‘We are so glad that you could come! He’s been on about it all morning, Margaret. Perhaps he’ll talk to you. He’s barely spoken a word since the sergeant left, and now he’s insisting that he’s going to Montsalvat. He’s barely eaten for two days, and I am sure that he hasn’t slept. He looks awful. I don’t know what’s possessed him.’
‘Never mind, Marian. I will see if I can make sense of it. I’ll take care of him, I promise.’
Jack could have asked, ‘Why are you talking about me as though I’m not here?’ but to ask required energy, and he didn’t care to exert himself. He didn’t know why he wanted to go to Montsalvat himself. He just knew that he needed to get away from Copelen St. This wasn’t where he and Sofia belonged. What he really needed was a driver’s license. He’d buy himself a car. He wanted to go wherever he liked, whenever he wanted. The railway system had always served his and Sofia’s needs, but in the last few weeks of driving around with Margaret, he’d fully appreciated the freedom a motor vehicle could provide. And today, he felt restless. He wanted to just go, and it annoyed him to feel beholden to Margaret.
On the drive, he sat silently, ignoring Margaret’s questions, wishing he’d stayed with his original plan and caught the train.
‘How did you sleep, Jack? Are you hungry...? We could get something at the bakery.’
The very thought of eating made him nauseous.
Worse were Margaret’s comments regarding Sofia. ‘Jack, she is just upset. She’s not thinking straight. Perhaps you should go to Spain, look for her there. Talk to her. It’s not safe at present, though. I can’t even imagine how she would get to Malaga, what with the war and all.’
Jack’s hands clenched in his lap.
A few minutes later, Margaret, evidently still not comfortable with his silence, tried a different tack. ‘I had a letter from Ginny last week. Quite a surprise. Wonderful writer that she is, I hardly ever hear from her. Just Christmas cards, really. Her and Leonard are thinking of moving to Sussex to be closer to Ness. She is very worried about Ness. Ness has never recovered since Julian died... ’
A silence filled the car and Jack guessed that Margaret’s words had stalled when she’d realised that her news from England was far from uplifting. He recalled the awful tale of how Ness’s son, a quiet young man he’d met in Sussex when he’d visited Charleston all those years earlier, had defied Ness and Clive’s wishes and enlisted as an ambulance driver in the war against Franco, barely a year earlier. Seven weeks later, the ambulance he was driving had taken a hit and Julian had been killed outright. The memories of the awful story aroused an overwhelming sense of bitterness in Jack. A sense of hopelessness in a world where terrible things happened for no reason. Where despite a person’s best efforts to do the right thing, and be happy, fate could snatch it all away in a moment of time.
‘Life is awful, Margaret. People die. Terrible things happen.’ The words were out of Jack’s mouth before he had time to think, and they chilled the air. He and Margaret completed the journey in silence.
Chapter 6
The first sound to greet them as they stepped from the car was the wailing of babies, their shrill tones piercing the air, as if each was trying to outdo the other in volume.
Jack ignored the startled glance Margaret cast towards him. She’s worried that I will be upset, he thought. But he wasn’t. In fact, the cry of the newborns was one of the nicest sounds that he’d heard in weeks. Innocent, with no association to the terrible event that had occurred. He was just sad that Sofia and Scotty were not here to see them.
Walking towards the Great Hall, they could see Helen and Sonia sitting on the veranda, each bouncing a baby on her lap.
‘Jack! Good to see you,’ Sonia said, her face lighting with pleasure. ‘How did you go finding Sofia? Is she okay?’
‘No, Sonia. Sofia’s gone back to Spain. I’d really prefer not to discuss it.’
‘What! Is she—’
He cut Sonia’s shocked response short. ‘Oh, my, who have we here? You’d swear that they were twins.’ Jack’s delight at the tiny bundles, now hiccupping and shuddering their way into silence, surprised even him.
‘They almost are, that is for sure! You wouldn’t believe it. I went into labour at midday and then Sonia followed at three. There’s only two hours between them!’ said Helen, laughing at the astonishing coincidence.
‘So, a boy and a girl?’ Jack felt confident that the little blue and pink bonnets were a fair indication of each baby’s gender.
‘That’s right—Saskia, she’s mine and Sebastian, he’s Helen’s. Cute as buttons, aren’t they? Especially when they are asleep!’ Sonia was beaming, and her clear eyes and healthy glow reflected the extent to which motherhood suited her. Even Helen, although very thin, looked better than when Jack had seen her last, and he hoped the baby might bring her the fulfillment that her relationship with Justus had always seemed to lack.
‘Hi, Margaret. Good to see you again. Grab a chair and you can have Seb.’
‘What about you, Jack? Saskia would love to be held by her Uncle Jack!’
‘So, when were they born? Tell me all about it.’
They chatted for a few minutes about the excitement of the consecutive deliveries, and how the whole atmosphere at Montsalvat had transformed since the arrival of the babies.
‘It’s quiet here today,’ Jack said, looking around. ‘Where is everybody?’
‘Oh, most of them have gone down to San Remo. A painting weekend. Mum and Dad stayed back, but they’ve gone shopping. They’ll be home soon. I think everyone is just trying to escape these two little screamers.’ On cue, Sebastian squirmed in Margaret’s arms and let out a roar.
Helen stood holding out her arms to take him from Margaret. ‘Time to put this one to bed...’
‘We might leave you to it,’ Jack said. ‘I’d like to look at the van.’
‘Great to see you, Jack. You too, Margaret. Hopefully we’ll catch up soon!’ Sonia said, hugging Jack as he left.
‘Don’t worry, you will,’ he replied.
* * *
The lightness of mood that he’d felt in the presence of little Saskia and Sebastian receded within the short distance of the walk to the van.
In a poor state when he’d last lived here, the van was now utterly derelict. Its screen door swung in the breeze, the catch broken; and when Jack tried to close it, he discovered the hinge had pulled from the frame. At once he was struck by the contrast to the past, when he and Sofia had first lived here; and he fought the lump in his chest that was expanding, threatening to obstruct his breathing. He needed to pull himself together. Sofia was gone. Just thinking about it pained him, and in a bid to control his emotions, he cast his mind to the practicalities before him.
An almighty mess greeted them as he opened the van’s door. A tangle of sheets, towels and clothing was strewn across the floor. Cups, some bearing the dregs of half-drunk coffee or sour milk, and a long-rotted bowl of bananas contributed to an overwhelming stench that filled the air.
Wordlessly, Jack began throwing things outside, one by one.
‘What are you doing?’ Margaret asked.
‘Cleaning.’
‘Okay. Good idea. So, what are you thinking?’
‘I’m moving back here.’
‘No... Surely not!’
‘Sure I am, Margaret. This is where I belong. I can’t keep living at Mum and Dad’s house, staring at the ceiling.’
‘I just don’t think it’s healthy for you to be living here, Jack.’
‘Well, where is healthy for me, Margaret? What would you have me do? Because I’m damned if I know!’ Jack’s mood transformed into bitter anger, and the snarl in his voice surprised even himself. ‘I haven’t read the guide that tells me what I am supposed to do when my son dies and my wife leaves me!’
‘Jack, calm down. I didn’t mean to upset you! I’m just worried, that’s all.’
‘Stop worrying. It’s not helping anything. All I know is that we have spent weeks trying to find Sofia, to mend things with her, and now she’s gone. I am out of answers... I am out of everything... but I know that I need to be here.’
For half an hour, he and Margaret worked in silence, emptying the van of every removable object, the vast majority of which was fit only for the rubbish dump. Margaret then headed for the kitchen, hoping that she might find some cleaning products, while Jack dragged the mattress into the sunshine, then crossed to the tank to fill a bucket with water. Already, he was feeling better. At least he’d found a purpose—to create a home for himself.
On his way back to the van, he heard the sound of a vehicle arriving on the gravelly surface of the carpark, followed by voices. They belonged to Lena, Mervyn, and Matcham.
‘Jack, good to see you. How are you doing...?’
‘Yes, well. You know.’ The question was always impossible to answer, and Jack changed the subject. ‘Congratulations to you both... the babies are lovely. Well done. And I suppose you are the uncle of the year, Matcham.’
Mervyn beamed, and Jack was pleased for him. The old rogue Justus may have taken control of Mervyn’s family, but he could not take over his role as grandfather. Well, at least he couldn’t take over Sonia’s baby. With Justus the father of Helen’s little Sebastian, Mervyn might find his role as grandfather challenging!
‘Are you moving back?’ Matcham asked, spying the bucket at Jack’s feet. ‘Is Sofia here? I have missed her...’
‘No. Sofia is not here. She has returned to Spain.’ He’d better get used to saying it, he thought, even though the words stuck in his throat.
‘Spain?’ Matcham replied, incredulous.
‘Leave it, Matcham. That’s Jack’s private business,’ Lena said.
‘Yes, but...’
‘Matcham, see if your sisters need some help. In fact, you can carry these down to them.’ Lena loaded his arms with two bags of groceries.
‘Jack, your belongings... you know, the boxes and bits and pieces you had packed from the cabin. They’re stored on our back porch. No need to rush, they’re not in the way, but there might be something amongst them that you need.’
‘Thanks, Lena. I’ll pop over in a while and have a look.’
‘It’s good to have you back, Jack,’ Mervyn said. ‘Let us know if there is anything we can do.’
‘Yeah, mate. Thanks. I’d better get back to the van. The place is in a mess, but it shouldn’t take long to sort out. I’ll see you up at the house when I have finished.’
* * *
An hour later Margaret stood back and assessed their morning’s work.
‘It’s looking good, Jack. Almost fit for human occupation now that the rats’ nests and cobwebs are gone.’
‘Yes... and thanks, Margaret. Thanks for helping me today.’ He hoped his show of appreciation would compensate for this morning’s unkind behaviour.
The van was undeniably shabby, barely resembling the cosy home that he and Sofia had shared here when they’d first moved out to Montsalvat. There were splits in the bench-seat cushions and the linoleum floor had lifted in several places. Yet overall, it looked clean and smelled fresh, thanks to the last hour, when every surface had been scrubbed with first bleach and then Bon Ami.
‘So, you are staying here tonight? You are not coming back to Copelen Street with me?’
‘No, Margaret. I need to be here...’ Jack knew that she doubted his choice, but appreciated that she didn’t argue with him. ‘Would you mind letting Mum and Dad know for me? They’ll be upset, but I can’t help that. Tell them I will call on them later this week.’
‘No worries, Jack. Your mum will probably murder me, but that’s okay. I will deal with it. I’ll pop in on my way through and let them know. How about we head over to the Skippers’ before I leave? You can get some clean blankets and things for tonight. We can load the car with anything you might need.’
Lena must have heard them coming, for she had cups out and a pot of tea brewing by the time he and Margaret stepped onto the porch.
‘Margaret, good to see you,’ she said. Jack left them in the kitchen, for he could see Mervyn on the veranda, cooing to the chortling baby on his lap, while Sonia sat beside him, watching.
‘He’s a natural.’ Sonia rolled her eyes at Jack, although the affectionate twinkle in her smile revealed her pleasure in seeing Mervyn enjoy his granddaughter. Jack fought down the memories of how proud his own father had been when he’d first held Scotty in his arms.
‘Saskia here, she is just like her grandma—loves to be up and chatting with visitors at every opportunity. Sebastian, he’d sleep all day if he could. Lucky Helen. She’ll get two hours’ rest now. I’m lucky to get a five-minute lie down before this little one is squawking and demanding to be up and about.’
