Open Writing

An unshaven, untidy man sat in the rocking chair by the window, a blanket draped over him. Alison's heart sank. Another of Matthew's lame ducks! The stranger's eyes were closed, either he was sleeping off yesterday's excesses, or felt unable to face whatever today had to offer. Disturbing him was the last thing she wanted to do. Thank heavens Matt hadn't let him sleep it off upstairs in one of the bedrooms.

Closing the living room door, she went into the hall. Opening the cloaks cupboard Alison lifted out the hold-all she had packed yesterday afternoon. Then she put on her coat, laid the letter for Matt on the hall table and went out of the front door, shutting it quietly behind her.

Matthew was still sleeping soundly upstairs. Last night had been his turn on the Life-Line roster, and it had been after four when he had arrived back home.

The van was parked in the driveway. Painted on the side of it was a pair of welcoming, outspread hands. She hitched the shoulder strap of her bag crosswise over her chest in order to manage the hold-all better, squeezed past the van and marched off down the street. Glancing back, in the light of the street lamp the Vicarage looked no different than any of the other houses - except, of course, the paint-work was shabbier. Turning left into the road she headed in the direction of the taxi rank.

An hour later at Paddington, she boarded the early morning Flyer for Bristol. Settling back in her seat, thankful that the train was warm, she glanced around the carriage. Most of the passengers looked like smartly dressed business people off to a conference. There was a tired-looking young girl with a baby asleep in her arms, accompanied by a woman with a gentle proprietorial air who was clearly her mother.

Once the train started moving, the girl handed the baby over, closed her eyes and fell asleep almost immediately. The older woman smiled at Alison, "She never got a wink of sleep last night. She'll be alright now, thank goodness." Alison nodded sympathetically and turned to look out of the window.

The countryside looked bleakly cold. Thick frost carpeted everything, bleaching the landscape of colour. The trees were beautiful, their branches black lace set against a mother-of-pearl sky. It was December after all. Somehow, living in London made the seasons blend and blur, with Christmas looming on the horizon.

The thought of Christmas terrified her. She felt tired and dispirited. This month was always the busiest time of the year, but she had never felt like this before. Alison knew that she could not cope with another homeless person nor comfort and advise miserable parents agonising about the behaviour of their wayward children. She was tired of dealing with dysfunctional people and looking at doleful faces.

When she had rung Jess yesterday morning, her sister, unaware that Alison was teetering on the brink, said, "Why don't you come down here for a few days, Alison? The children would love to see you."

Matthew was something else. There was no way she could square up to Matt and tell him she was going to see Jess for a few days, without breaking down. Alison knew Matt lived his whole life on the edge. These past few months had been punishing for him.

Since Matt had been ordained as a clergyman, his pastoral duties in London had gone far beyond those of social worker, marriage guidance counsellor and mental health carer. Any free time was spent dispensing food and comforting the poor and homeless now inhabiting their once respectable area of London.

Perhaps sensible, wise Jess could help her to get things back into perspective once more. As a child it had always been Jess she had turned to for comfort. When her mother had been busy with the smaller children Jess was always there to listen and understand.

When she came out of the station in Bristol, the sun was out and she felt the warmth on her face. She was about to look for a cab when Jess drove up in the Land Rover. "I thought you'd be on the Flyer. Come on, hop in and we'll go home."

Jess, as always, looked great. Fit and healthy, she had a year-round tan. Alison thought she epitomised the perfect farmer's wife. "It's lovely to see you. We'll have a few hours together before Marianne and Edward get in from school. We'll pick up Jamie from the playgroup on the way home."

The traffic was heavy in the city, so there was little said until they reached the village. Jessica went into the village hall to collect Jamie. He came bouncing out, the image of his mother and sat on Alison's knee talking ninety to the dozen, while Jess drove home to the farm.

Later, sitting at the stout oak kitchen table, eating bacon sandwiches and drinking tea, Alison felt herself unwind and was more relaxed than she had been for weeks. After lunch Jamie went out with Graham to help take the feed down to the sheep. The Aga-warmed kitchen felt like the cosiest place in the world.

Jess looked quizzically at Alison, "Come on. What's the matter? - There is something wrong, isn't there?"

"Jess, I feel so tired - sick and tired. I don't feel I'm any help to Matt at all."

"You haven't lost your faith or anything like that?"

"No, Jess. Our faith is the rhyme and rhythm of our lives. No, I haven't lost THAT faith. I've lost faith in myself. I'm so tired. I've felt queasy and miserable for weeks. Poor Matt works all the hours God sends. We haven't time to talk, let alone spend quality time together. I don't know what is the matter with me, I wish I did."

"You're not pregnant are you? I felt exactly like that the first time. It's something to do with your hormones being all over the place. Your body telling you to distance yourself from stress and strain, while it gets on with the important work."

"Pregnant! I don't think so. We've been married five years and nothing has happened yet. Anyhow, last month was as normal as ever."

"That doesn't mean a thing. That happened to me first time as well. Perhaps it isn't because of you that you haven't conceived before now. After all you are a Trevelyan, and the fecundity of the Trevelyans is legendary, some might say notorious. Grandma Trevelyan had fourteen children, and on the distaff side, Grandma Wilson had ten. If Dad hadn't been killed at forty-two, would Mum have stopped at seven? Anyway, what is Mart's family track record in that department?"

Alison stopped laughing and looked thoughtful. "Jess, you might have something there. Matt is the only child of two only-children. Come to think of it, he has hardly any relatives. They aren't like our lot - we practically populated our little area of the West Country single handed, didn't we?"

Beckoning, Jess stood up. "Come with me, I've got something for you."

They went upstairs into Jess and Graham's bedroom. Jess opened the wardrobe. From one of the drawers she took out a box. "It's a pregnancy testing kit. I had a cold last month and in consequence was a few days late. Well I didn't need the kit. You go off to the bathroom, read the instructions and get on with it. I'll go down and do the washing-up and await developments."

Alison took the package, hugged her sister and went off to the bathroom. Jessica, as she walked downstairs, smiled to herself and whispered, "And about time too!"

Later, as she put the last of the clean crockery away, Jess heard Alison crossing the hall. She turned and looked towards the door. The bright-faced girl who stood in the doorway looked radiant. Jess raised her eyebrows: "Was it blue then?"

"Dazzling, as blue as young Jamie's eyes. No mistake! Darling Jess, thank you. Would you think it terrible if I went straight back home? I can't wait to tell Matthew."

Jess kissed her sister, then held her at arm's length looking at her, "Ali, you look about eighteen. I feel I've got my little sister back. Get your coat. I'll leave a note for Graham. Go on; get your things and I'll fetch the Land-Rover."

At the station, as Alison boarded the train, Jess said, "Both of you must come down here in the New Year. London isn't going to fell apart if that husband of yours has a few days holiday. He deserves some time off. Don't forget to ring Mum,. She'll be over the moon at the thought of another grandchild."

Sitting in the train Alison knew Jess was right. The baby would have to take priority and that wasn't a bad thing. Having a family would bring different challenges, joy and rewards, and Matt deserved some joy and rewards.

After she paid off the cabby outside the Vicarage, she noticed an early Christmas tree lighting up the window of the house opposite and smiled. The light over the Vicarage door was on, but the rest of the house was in darkness. Matt must be out.

Alison opened the door and, putting her hold-all and bag at the foot of the stairs, turned and walked into the living room. In the light from the street she saw a figure sitting in the rocking-chair by the window. She thought of the untidy, dishevelled visitor of the morning. Poor man. He must have slept the whole day through, and she reached for the light-switch. Dazzled by the brightness, she blinked then saw it was Matt sitting there.

Standing up, he said, "I've been waiting for you. Jess rang and said you were on your way back. There's a casserole in the oven. Alison, I love you very much and I don't know how I'd possibly function without you."

Alison put her arms around him. "You don't have to do without me, not ever. Come into the kitchen Matt. I'm absolutely starving and I've something marvellous to tell you."

"Good news?"

"The best, the very best and just in time for Christmas."