The Consequences of Fear Jacqueline Winspear (i can read book club .txt) 📖

asked us all to write a story about something we’d lost. Everyone else wrote about losing toys or their hats andgloves in winter, but I wrote about Emma. She’s not lost really—I know where she is—but it’s like losing something, and Imiss her.”

Maisie nodded, holding Anna’s hand. “I know, darling. But remember how sad Grandad was when Jook died, and—”

“He cried,” said Anna, a frown forming across her forehead. “I was supposed to be asleep, but I heard him talking to Grandma in the kitchen, so I came downstairs and looked in, and I saw him crying about Jook. I went back to bed again and cried for Jook and Grandad, and I said my prayers for them.” She sighed. “Grandad isn’t as sad now, is he?”

“No, my love—that’s because time helps, as it passes. Time puts a little cushion around our hearts.”

“I’ve still got a big hurt here, where Emma lives,” said Anna, placing her hand on her chest. “It’s different from when myfirst nanny died, before you became my mummy.”

“Shall we do this?” Maisie stopped and faced her daughter. She lifted her hands, and placed first her left hand against herchest, and then her right hand on top of her left. “Follow me—see what I’ve done with my hands? You can close your eyes andcradle your heart, then before you know it the pain starts to go away.”

Anna faced her mother and followed her lead. Resting her small hands against the buttons on her school blazer, she closedher eyes.

“I can feel it, Mummy. The hurt is starting to go.”

“We can do it again before bedtime—in fact, any time you feel the hurt about Emma. It’s like giving your heart a lovely softcuddle.”

Emma opened her eyes, dropped her hands and began skipping along. “When’s Uncle Mark coming again? I miss him.”

“Oh, I’m not sure, darling. Perhaps in a week or so.”

“That’s good—we’ve run out of chocolate!”

 

Brenda met Maisie and Anna at the kitchen door.

“A woman just telephoned for you, Maisie. I told her you’d be back in a little while, so she said she’d try again. Said itwas about someone called Hackett. She couldn’t leave a number because she was in a telephone box.”

“Oh, I know who that is. Thank you, Brenda.”

“I see someone has lost more ribbons!” said Brenda, hands on hips as she looked down at Anna. “Come on—time to get out of that uniform so it’s nice for tomorrow.”

“There’s the telephone again now,” said Maisie. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”

Once inside the library, she closed the door behind her and reached for the receiver.

“Hello.”

“Miss Dobbs?”

“Yes, speaking.”

“Good afternoon. My name is Mrs. Alice Langley. Dr. Masters asked me to go to see a boy named Freddie Hackett, so I went tohis school today and then found out that he was at home, so I took the liberty of going to see him there. I’ve not long leftthe flat, which is why I’m in a telephone box. I knew you would want to hear from me straightaway.”

“Oh dear—I hadn’t had a chance to talk to his mother.”

“That’s all right—I’m used to dealing with parents and children, though it’s hard to think of some of the boys and girls ofFreddie’s age as children anymore. They’ve already seen more of life and death than we might have at that age. Anyway, I explainedmyself to the mother, who understood the reason for my visit. She was agreeable to my speaking with Freddie—first with herpresent, and then she went off ostensibly to make tea, but she gave us time to talk alone.”

“And?”

“I’ll put this all in a written report for you, but the boy is clearly under a cloud, and of course you can’t miss that scratchingon the arms, though it looked as if it had been healing a bit and then he started again. He is terrified of his father andhe remained at home because his mother was not at work today and he was afraid his father would come to the flat and killher.”

“He was clear about killing her?”

“Oh yes. He indicated that the father had threatened as much on many occasions, and though the man might not mean to go so far, a child is not to know that. Freddie has probably heard threats of this nature since early childhood, and though he has grown and matured, in some ways he is still a small boy, fearful of the future.”

Maisie drew breath to ask another question, but the woman continued.

“Regarding the event that Freddie Hackett is supposed to have witnessed, I would say he definitely saw something that scaredhim very much. Whilst I am not a detective, I would suggest that if further evidence were found to indicate someone had beenmurdered or there was some sort of attack in the place where Freddie maintains he saw a fight, then we should assume thathe did not witness an apparition, but instead saw something untoward taking place.”

“I see, and—”

“Freddie isn’t sleeping well, and that will have an effect on his account of the event he saw unfold. And I don’t mean he’s suffering from a little bit of childhood wakefulness. The boy is becoming profoundly deprived of a good night’s rest. I know you could say the same thing about half the population at the present time, but children have had a remarkable resilience to the bombings and have managed to sleep through the worst of times—of course the psychological pressure can do that too, as I am sure you understand. But Freddie Hackett is at risk of a deeper illness of the mind if he does not experience some lifting of the weight upon his shoulders. As a first step, he should not be running those messages all over London. It has to stop—but he is very scared that his mother and Iris will go without, and they will be on the streets and vulnerable. I also believe the running is not simply due to his love of sport or his obvious natural talent—it has a psychological connection to