Never before had the young woman been allowed to see the family she'd left behind. All she wanted was to let them know she was safe and being well cared for. Today was going to be her first contact. She walked down the aisle of the near empty church...
Theresa was very sympathetic to Abigail's situation. It was she who'd been happy to take on the care of Abigail when the lady from the Liverpool Welfare Centre had got in touch. Philip had been reluctant, seeing it as an indirect association with his estranged father, James. In the end, seeing how keenly his wife wanted to help Abigail, Philip relented, but made no special effort to get to know her when she arrived.
Theresa and Philip were both forty-three and had no children of their own. When they realised how independent, sensible and trustworthy Abigail was, they gave her own key and trusted her to come and go as she pleased.
Abigail made the journey from London to Liverpool to visit James in hospital twice during the ten days he was in there. Upon his arrival home, Abigail spent every second weekend with him. It was after one such visit, about three months after moving out of James's house, that she was walking from the London tube station along the path to Theresa and Philip's house. She was worrying about how weak and frail James had looked that day. She passed a group of young boys playing football. The boys spotted her walking clumsily on her sticks, and started to laugh and point at her. Soon, they were all shouting "Spasy!" at her. They followed behind her for a while, mimicking the way she walked. Abigail held her head up high and walked on, being brave the way her dad had taught her to be.
The hallway was quiet except for the tick-tocking of an old clock. The door at the end of the hall which opened to the street outside had a cork notice board attached it. The notice board was covered with cards from well-wishers, containing messages such as Good luck in the new house! and Missing you already! There was another card attached to the board, opened slightly so that the inside could be read, which simply read,
Good luck in the new house. All my love, Dad
There was the sound of rummaging for keys in a handbag from the other side of the door. Then, the sound of the keys dropping on stone flagging followed by the voice of a young woman saying "shit!"
The door finally opened. Abigail clattered in with her sticks and threw them to the ground. She closed the front door behind her and leaned back against the door.
"Anyone home?" she cried out meekly.
No reply. Satisfied she was in the house alone, she let her knees bend and she slid down the door, until she was sitting on the door mat.
She could stop being brave now. She held her hands to her face and wept.
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Abigail awoke early the next morning. It was still dark outside. For a brief instant, just before she was fully awake, she thought she saw a face, the sad face of a young woman, looking at her from above the foot of her bed. The woman appeared to have long brown hair. Abigail rubbed her eyes, and the face was gone.
