The Keeper

Crying for Everything

Martha was cross with herself for neglecting the garden and her friendship with Joan. After school the next day, she went straight from the bus stop to the allotment. Joan wasn't there, but Martha put on her gloves and went back to digging out recalcitrant weeds. She enjoyed the warmth from the exercise and the progress made as she worked her way through the garden beds. It was late again when Martha hurried home. She kicked off her muddy shoes at the door and yelled out that she was back. Her dad came to greet her.

"Sorry I'm late, Dad. I lost track of time at the allotment."

Her dad said nothing, but gave her a long, deep hug.

"What? You weren't worried about me, were you?"

"No, Martha. Come and sit down," he said. "Something's happened."

Martha sat on the sofa, and her dad continued. "There was a package that came for Joan today. You know she's a member of that book club?"

"Yes."

"Well, she wasn't answering her door, and the postman gave it to Mum. She called Joan's phone and knocked on the door, but there was no answer."

"That's why she gave us the key – in case she goes out and – "

"Yes... Well... Your mum went in and found her."

"What?"

Her dad put his arm around Martha's shoulder. "Joan died, love."

Martha pulled back." What? No!"

"She looked as if she was asleep in her armchair, but she was gone."

"Joan died?"

"I'm sorry, love."

"I saw her yesterday; she was fine."

"The ambulance crew said she probably had a heart attack. Her bathroom cabinet was full of heart medicine. It looked as if it happened very quickly, too quickly for her to call them."

Martha crumpled into tears and her dad hugged her as she sobbed and sobbed. She was crying for Joan and for everything else, too.

She couldn't eat her dinner, excused herself and went upstairs. The walls of her bedroom closed in around her as the conversation with Joan, her relationship with Toph, and how she felt about Dean thudded around in her head like a bear in a cage. It was all too much. She opened the door and went out past the cup of tea gone cold that her parents had left her. They were in the lounge watching one of their sweet country murder series, so she shouted she was going out for some fresh air. Walking always helped her think, but as she strode past the phone box that marked the edge of the village, things were still muddled.

When she had left Joan at the allotment, her course of action had seemed so clear – break up with Toph and wait for Dean to come to his senses. But now that Joan was gone, Martha faltered. Was that really what Joan meant?

She climbed the hill road and over the stile into the field that led to the forest. What was she going to tell Toph? She couldn't ask Joan's advice now. Who could she talk to?

She plodded along the forest track, not caring that her trainers were getting muddy and the water was seeping through to her socks. Toph was a nice boy. She didn't deserve him. Amy was always saying what a cute couple Martha and Toph were. But she didn't know that Martha was faking it. Trying to be a normal teenager and failing because she wanted nothing to do with the teenage world. She wanted to be in Dean's world, with him alone. It couldn't happen. She knew that. But it left her unhappy in the world she was in and she had no will to keep up the pretence of their teen romance.

Amy would want to know the real reason for Martha splitting up with Toph. Saying that she was in love with another man wasn't an option, never mind who that man was!

Martha sat on the big limb of a beech tree that stretched out over a mossy bank. It gave under her weight a little and she kicked out the litter of leaves, smelling the sweet black dirt of the forest floor. There was only one person who wouldn't judge her or ask her questions she couldn't give the answers to. One person who she knew could keep secrets.

She had to talk to Dean.