The Golden Thread Read online

  Later in the evening, a short time before bedtime, Socrates would stir, stretch, groom himself with elaborate licking motions and then slowly approach her, jumping up onto her lap. This was the time she liked best of all. As her hands caressed his silky fur, her pent up emotions were allowed expression. Yesterday evening, after her final day at Kingdown School, she told him she had lost her raison d’être, and did not know how to find the incentive to start again. Would there be enough to occupy her and satisfy the active mind that refused to wind down? The future stared emptily at her. Well, this was no good. She must pull herself together and get on with things. She got up to make her evening drink of hot milk. She put the saucepan on the cooker and lit the gas under it.

  Her thoughts strayed back to the events of the day. It was a beautiful bouquet they had given her, and in a vase on the table in the lounge, the flowers seemed to take over the whole room. The accompanying card stood on the mantle piece. Suddenly she couldn’t stand its sentimental phrases, the ‘abundant good wishes for a happy retirement’, with its platitudes about ‘standing at the threshold of a wonderful new life’. She grabbed the card from its prominent position and took it into the spare bedroom where a small chest of drawers housed papers and other relics from the past.

  In the bottom drawer were a few envelopes containing photographs. She picked one up and opened it. Inside was an old black and white picture of a lovely young girl with shoulder-length curly hair and a coquettish smile. A stabbing pain caused her to drop the picture as if it had burned her fingers. At the same moment she remembered the milk! Rushing back to the kitchen, she was just in time to see the frothing liquid rise up to the top of the pan and spill over the edge. The flames spluttered and died and the room was quickly filled with a pungent smell. Claudia mopped the mess up as best she could. Then she went back into the lounge, sat down in her chair and wept.

  That night she could not sleep. A vision of Maria kept dancing before her closed eyes – the sister with whom she had had no contact for almost forty years. Maria – who had grown into a beautiful young girl, with curly light brown hair, dazzling smile and delightful figure – had been her constant companion and closest friend from the moment she had arrived on the scene, when Claudia was three years old. Now Maria was all she had left in the world. Their mother had died early, when the sisters were only fifteen and twelve. As a result a special bond had grown up between them and they had become accustomed to sharing a great deal of their lives with each other. What would Maria look like now, with grey hair and an ageing complexion? What had she done with her life? Was she happy? Claudia knew she had married. What family did she have? Claudia sighed. The day had been emotionally draining enough as it was, so why allow thoughts from the past to torment her? There was enough to cope with, getting used to becoming a nobody – or nobody who counted with anyone any more.

  So did you only exist in the minds and estimation of other people? At school everyone had known who she was, the important role she played in the life of the school having been firmly defined. Of course they could have managed without her for a few days, if necessary, but she was the anchor, or perhaps more accurately, the captain at the helm. Outside the school walls she was a shadowy figure, with whom a few people were acquainted, but she made no difference to their lives. If she suddenly disappeared one day, no one would be any the wiser – and no one would care.

  Claudia woke to the sound of teeming rain. The first decision to be made was what to wear. Her wardrobe was full of suits. They were her school uniform. She always bought them at Marks & Spencer’s because her shape was inconsistent. Her shoulders were narrower than her frame suggested and over the years her hips had expanded. The great advantage of shopping in her favourite store was that she could match up a size 14 jacket with a size 16 skirt. There was a row of such suits which she had used over the years, and very useful they had been too. But suddenly they were no longer appropriate wear for her new lifestyle. She would take most of them to the charity shop and just keep a couple in case any special occasions presented themselves. What special occasions? Bitterly she reflected that they were unlikely to arise, but perhaps it would be as well to be prepared. Even in school holidays she had worn the suits, as she frequently went into school and did not wish to suggest to anyone who might have seen her that she let her standards slip simply because the pupils were not present.

  She would begin this new phase of her life by going to buy some suitable leisure clothes. Braving the elements, she took a bus to the High Street, where she made her way to the Marks & Spencer’s store. Searching among the rails she tried to find what might be considered suitable attire for ladies of retirement age. Dismissing the idea of anything in the younger sections she arrived at the range headed ‘Classics’.

  Two other ladies of about the same age came up, chattering and laughing together. They started rifling through the clothes on the nearby rails.

  ‘Don’t think much of these!’ said one in tones of disgust. ‘They look like grannies’ clothes!’

  ‘You are a granny.’

  ‘Doesn’t mean I have to look like one!’

  They bustled off, leaving Claudia hesitating among rows of skirts and blouses. For a moment she watched their retreating figures, then turning back to the rails of clothes they had spurned she began to make her selection.

  * * *

  Freedom! For an hour or two anyway – Paula knew she mustn’t presume on Edith’s kindness for very long – she had time to herself! How lovely to be able to concentrate on shopping without the complication of small children. Mind you, already she was missing them and longing to see them again, but it did simplify matters if she didn’t have to hump pushchairs about or answer endless questions to satisfy an inquisitive little mind. Paula hurried about her business hampered by the weather. Shoppers were scurrying along the wet pavement, weaving eccentric patterns as they attempted to avoid the worst of the puddles.

  How sad that Jack had missed the birth of his new little daughter. She knew soldiers had to go where they were sent, and she had accepted that there would be times of separation when she married him, but she regretted that duty to join the force invading Iraq had resulted in his missing this very special moment in the life of their family.

  He adored Isabel, now nearly five, never tiring of playing with her during his precious days of leave. Paula feared he might be disappointed at the lack of a son but he had sounded so thrilled when he had managed to make contact after the birth, just three weeks ago. What a perfect little baby girl had arrived! So pink and delicate and … well … beautiful!

  And she was lucky to have a really supportive mother-in-law – those old jokes were totally inappropriate. Edith was like the mother she missed so badly, adoring the children and doing everything she could to help. Well, Paula had finished her errands and would soon be with them all again at home. Her car was parked just round the corner – if only all these people didn’t keep blocking her path! Just at that moment a gust of wind tugged at her umbrella, whipping it inside out.

  In front of her was an older lady clutching a Marks & Spencer’s carrier bag. She was struggling against the wind and with her head down did not see a large man bearing down upon her from the opposite direction. Taking a sudden step towards the kerb to avoid a puddle he banged into the older woman’s side, knocking her off course. Mumbling an apology he hurried on his way, but the woman had lost her balance. For a moment she teetered looking as if she would be able to right herself, but then lost control and went down on the wet pavement, her carrier bag flying out of her grasp. Paula nearly tripped over her.

  Several people stopped, one retrieved the bag and someone else said, ‘Are you all right?’ Strange how that’s the first thing people say to someone who obviously isn’t, thought Paula. A trickle of blood had started to run down the woman’s leg.

  ‘Yes, yes, perfectly, thank you. Please don’t worry.’ Various hands helped her back onto her feet.

  ‘
If you’re sure.’ The other shoppers melted away. The woman looked rather shaken.

  ‘Do you live far away?’ asked Paula.

  ‘No, just a bus ride. Thank you, I’m quite all right.’

  ‘That leg wants mopping up. Look, my car’s just down the next side road, I’ll run you home.’

  ‘Oh no, really, there’s no need. Please, there’s really nothing wrong – nothing of any importance.’

  The woman tried to brush some muddy marks off her coat and started to walk on, but stumbled a little. Paula grabbed her arm.

  ‘No, really … I insist. I saw it all happen. That man bumped straight into you and he hardly even stopped! I hope your shopping hasn’t suffered. Come on, my car’s just over there.’

  ‘But it must be taking you out of your way. Don’t you want to get home? Where do you live?’

  ‘Oh, I’m just round the corner from Kingdown School – do you know it?’

  ‘Yes, yes, actually I–’

  ‘We’re hoping our little girl will be going there in September! She’s longing to start big school.’

  ‘How old is she then?’

  ‘Isabel’s nearly five, and so full of questions! There’s never a dull moment. And now I’ve got a new baby – just three weeks old.’

  ‘A new baby! How lovely for you – what’s the new baby’s name?’

  ‘Maria.’

  ‘Oh!’

  Surprised at the exclamation Paula turned to look at the woman beside her. She was very white.

  ‘Look, here’s the car. I’m glad I’m giving you a lift … you really don’t look too good.’

  ‘It’s very kind of you. I keep saying there’s no need.’

  ‘Nonsense. Hop in. I’m Paula, by the way – Paula Munro. What’s your name?’

  ‘Claudia …’ Before Claudia could get any further Paula had shut her into the passenger seat and was going round to the driver’s side.

  ‘I’m afraid I’m making your car rather dirty.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that. The car gets all sorts of clutter in it.’

  ‘Where are your children? I mean, you’ve been out shopping …’

  ‘My wonderful mother-in-law offered to have them for a while this morning. She’s besotted with the new baby. Well, so am I. Do you like babies?’

  ‘I haven’t actually–’

  ‘It’s their little hands I think are so amazing. So tiny, yet so perfect, and those miniature fingers that are still strong enough to wrap round yours and grip you. Mind you, they all grow up to be a handful, don’t they? What do you do … are you retired?’

  ‘Yes, I have just–’

  ‘I expect you find you’re busier than ever! I’ve heard retired people say they never seem to have a minute, and don’t know how they ever fitted work in!’

  They were drawing up outside Claudia’s flat.

  ‘I was wondering … I don’t know whether you’d like to come to tea, and see the children? Would you like to come tomorrow? It would be nice to know you’re okay.’

  ‘Tomorrow? I’m not sure if–’

  ‘No, I expect you’re far too busy. But look, if you ever find a slot, and you think you’d like to pop in, you could always give me a ring. I’ll write my telephone number down for you.’

  ‘It’s very kind of you. You’ve been extremely kind. Thank you for bringing me home. I really do appreciate it.’

  ‘Not at all … do hope that leg’s not too badly injured. I think you’ll have to throw the tights away!’

  ‘Goodbye, and thank you again.’

  Claudia stood outside her flat, her bag of shopping in one hand and the scrap of paper with the telephone number on it in the other.

  Paula waved cheerily. ‘Do come!’ she called out of the car window. Claudia nodded.

  Funny woman, thought Paula as she drove away. She hardly said a word. I can’t believe I asked her to tea! Oh well, I don’t suppose she’ll come. In fact, I don’t suppose I’ll ever see her again.

  Chapter 3

  The library was an oasis of calm. Browsing among the shelves of books never failed to lift Claudia’s spirits, particularly the reference section. Ancient Greece was, for her, an endless source of fascination. Given the time, she could spend hours studying illustrations of the art of the period. She revelled in the quietness that surrounded her. There was something soothing about rows of bound volumes sitting there patiently in readiness for their moment of glory – like flower buds waiting for their time to blossom.

  Once again the previous night had been restless. Thoughts held at bay during the years when she had immersed herself in her work now seemed impossible to stifle. Images had flooded through her brain triggered by innocent words from the young woman who had come to her rescue the previous day. She grimaced at the thought of how she had fallen smack down on that dirty pavement. Her raincoat would have to go to the cleaners and she had collected a number of cuts and bruises on her hands and legs. The incident had left her feeling embarrassed and stupid, but fortunately there was no great damage.

  The hurt had come from some of the things Paula, in all innocence, had said. For a start there had been the name Maria to reawaken echoes from the past. And fancy the woman asking her to tea! Claudia knew that, if she went, she would be expected to drool over the new arrival while the mother stood there beaming with pride. This was a role she had often fulfilled at school when a parent had shown a new baby to the headteacher for her to admire. She had always done her best, knowing that before her there was potentially another pupil to attend her school in five years’ time. But sometimes it had been hard work when the occupants of the prams had looked a little odd, as newborn babies can, almost subhuman, Claudia thought.

  On the other hand, some of the new babies were startlingly beautiful and she could be mesmerised by the sight of an enchanting little girl. That was when the pain went deep. Last night she had finally fallen into a troubled sleep which brought no relief, her dreams full of images of a tiny baby whose little fingers gripped her mother’s hand. Then someone came and cruelly prised those tiny fingers away.

  Day time was much better. Then thoughts could be concentrated on objective topics of interest rather than the introspective, bitter emotions that had plagued her over the last two nights. In the lending section Claudia discovered a book on classical architecture that she hadn’t seen before. She took it over to the counter for scanning. The librarian smiled at her.

  ‘That looks interesting,’ she remarked. ‘I’d love to have time to devote to reading something like that. What with working and running round after my family ….’

  ‘I’ve just retired,’ Claudia replied, ‘so now I can start on some major projects. Things I’ve been wanting to do but I’ve been too busy.’

  ‘Lucky you! I’ve got another twenty years to wait! It can’t come soon enough for me.’ The librarian hesitated. ‘By the way, had you thought of joining the Fine Arts Society? I could give you a leaflet. I hear they have some very interesting talks.’

  ‘Thank you, I’ll bear that in mind. But what I’m really interested in ….’ She trailed off, as the librarian was distracted by some girls who had come in chattering loudly.

  ‘Excuse me … I’ll have to go and have a word. They don’t seem to realise ….’

  Picking up her book, Claudia made her way home. Socrates was waiting for her return, and so, on the doormat, was a letter. Claudia picked it up and examined the envelope. She wasn’t expecting any post and rarely received personal mail. There were no clues as to the identity of the sender.

  A letter opener lay on the hall table ready for use as Claudia hated envelopes that had been roughly torn and left with jagged edges. This one was a business letter bearing the name of some sort of agency by the name of Seekers. The name meant nothing to her. Claudia read the letter with mounting bewilderment.

  It seemed that a third party wished to contact a certain Miss Claudia Hansom, on behalf of
a relative with whom there had been no communication for many years. The agency, wishing to ensure that the correspondence had been sent to the right person, asked Claudia to confirm some personal details, including her occupation and the first names of her parents.

  What could this mean? Surely it could only have come from one source … who else but Maria? Or rather, from someone on behalf of Maria, for there were no other relatives. Claudia sat down and read the letter over several times, trying to understand what lay behind it. So had Maria died? Perhaps there was a will, and she had mentioned Claudia. Well, Claudia had no wish to inherit any kind of legacy from her sister, although, if there were a sum of money, she might as well have it and pass it on to a cats’ home.

  All the same there was an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach at the thought that her sister had died. To feel such a pang was hardly logical since, in reality, Maria had been dead to her for almost forty years. The rift that had resulted from the events of that time had never been healed. Claudia always refused to allow her mind to return to memories that were still capable of distressing her. Her first reaction was to crumple the letter up and throw it in the bin. But on second thoughts, might it be better to provide the details that had been requested, so that she could at least find out what it was all about?

  Before she could change her mind she grabbed a sheet of paper, wrote a quick response to the letter, giving as briefly as possible the facts required, and sealed the envelope.

  With a sigh she sat down, her mind whirling. So much for her cherished belief that all those incidents were dead and buried beyond reach! It was impossible now to prevent the memories from returning. Unable to fight any longer, Claudia lay back in her chair and let the past live again.

  Chapter 4

  ‘Everyone must sit still and pay ’tention!’

  Ranged in a semi circle, the pupils sat obediently before her, staring unblinkingly at their teacher as they waited for the educational gems Claudia, aged five, prepared to disseminate. Her students, mostly a selection of teddy bears, stuffed toys and dolls, were models of perfect behaviour apart from the one disruptive element in the centre whose unruliness destroyed the peaceful learning environment Claudia was attempting to create, thereby sabotaging any chance of educational advancement for the class as a whole.