Chapter 1

January in Maldon. Cold, with a ‘lazy wind’ cutting through the warmest clothes of walkers on the prom. Helen Billings, eight months pregnant, was resigned to staying indoors in the warm, though she’d have preferred not to have her husband, Geoff, having to do all the shopping. Instead of her regular walks along the prom to visit Earl Byrhtnoth, and back to call on her friend Glad in the Barge Tearooms, she drove along to the health club to make sure she maintained her fitness as much as possible.

Returning one morning, she’d just sat with a sigh when her phone rang. She’d left it in her coat pocket, unfortunately, and she knew that even at her best speed there was no way she’d get to it before it went to voicemail. She sighed, and lifted her feet onto her foot-stool. Shortly after that, she heard the bleep that indicated a voicemail was waiting for her attention. When, not much later, it became necessary for her to use the toilet, she collected her phone on her way back to the sofa. The missed call was a number she didn’t recognise, but it was a ‘proper’ landline number. She listened to the voice mail.

“Missus Billings, this is Su Shelby. I was with the party on Reminder last year. I’d like to talk to you about one of our residents, if you don’t mind.”

Intrigued, she dialled the number.

“Ashcroft Centre. How may I direct your call?”

“My name is Helen Billings. I’ve just had a voicemail from Su Shelby, and I’m returning her call.”

“Just a moment, Missus Billings, and I’ll try to put you through.”

Horrid, generic muzak.

“Hi, this is Su. Missus Billings?”

“Su, this is Helen Billings. You tried to ring me?”

“Oh! Yes, I did. You’ll remember Sharlene?”

“Of course! And, please, I’m just ‘Helen’.”

“Thank you, ‘just Helen’,” she joked, the smile clear in her voice, “We have a problem, and I’m hoping you can help.”

“If I can, of course.”

“Quite. And this is a big ask. Since the trip, there have been developments. I can’t talk about them, I’m afraid, but the long and short of it is that Sharlene cannot go home and needs a place to live. We don’t feel she needs to be with us much longer. You seemed to form a rapport with her and I was hoping you might consider becoming a foster parent. We’re terribly short of foster places, you see, and I know Sharlene liked you a lot. Honestly, I don’t think she’d be a problem, but of course just having an addition in the house makes a difference.”

“I see. Can I think about it for a while? I’ll need to talk to my husband, of course, and probably the Rector, who is a friend and will keep a confidence.”

“Of course! I’d expect that. Could you let me know by Friday morning?”

“Oh, before that, I’m sure.”

“Thank you so much!”

Helen was torn. She’d had so much support from Geoff, not to mention the other denizens of Maldon, and she’d liked Sharlene whilst they’d been on Reminder. But how could she cope with a teenaged girl, from a ... difficult ... background, while she was pregnant and hardly able to do anything? She had a thought. ‘Emmanuel?’

‘Yes, little sister?’

She looked around. There was no tall, bearded, pony-tailed man in the flat. She shrugged.

“I don’t know what to do.” That was aloud, though she felt strange talking to the air.

‘It’s for you to decide, little sister. But you might talk to Dulcie. I will always be here for you.’

Decisively, she called the Rectory. Unsurprisingly, Dulcie wasn’t there. “Saint Mary’s Rectory. Liina speaking. Can I help you?”

“I think I need to speak to Dulcie.”

“She’s out this morning, I’m afraid. I don’t know when she’ll be back. Is that Helen?”

“Yes! Yes, it is, Liina. It would be easiest for me if she called here, if that’s possible.”

“I’ll let her know when she comes in.”

“Thank you, Liina.”

Geoff returned, bearing books and groceries, in time for sandwiches for lunch. The food he dumped in the kitchen before returning to the lounge with the books. He bent down to kiss Helen. It was a good kiss. A ‘why don’t I drag you to the bedroom’ kiss. Helen hooked a hand behind his neck to extend it.

“Mmm,” she hummed, releasing him. “Come and sit for a minute. I’ve got things to say.”

Geoff sat and leaned close, stroking her baby bulge. “Speak on, Mummy.”

She giggled a little. “Yes. Not too much longer, thank the Lord. Geoff, I had a call this morning, Su Shelby.”

He kissed her ear. “Who?”

“Su Shelby. She was with that party from the Ashcroft Centre.”

“Ah. And?”

“She asked if I, if we, would consider fostering Sharlene Smith.”

“And you wouldn’t be mentioning it to me if you didn’t want to.”

Helen sighed. “I do ... and I don’t. I worry about being pregnant and then having a baby to think about, with a teenage girl from a bad background in the house.”

“Not about having a teenage girl in the house who is nearer in age to your husband than you are?”

“You got me. I can’t help thinking...”

“Darling girl, your age is just a number. I don’t think about it. As for Sharlene... any teenage girl ... none could match your beauty, your personality. She might be more mature than most, but really, Helen; not interested. How old is she?”

“She was fifteen last autumn. I don’t know when her birthday is.”

“I don’t know if I’m old enough to be a father figure, but actually, again, age isn’t really the issue. She knows me as The Skipper, and probably doesn’t think about my age. Helen, if you want her, I don’t mind trying. Do you remember Tom Carmichael?”

Helen frowned. “I think so. Didn’t we do a trip with him? His wife’s a musician?”

“That’s right. Tom was fostered. He had a terrible home background. His father’s in a high security gaol. His mother has alcoholic dementia and is in long-term care. His wife was adopted by Dave and Jessica Yeoman. You’ve not met them. But they looked after Jenni when she was a runaway.”

“I didn’t know that. Geoff, the stories.“

“Absolutely.” he paused. “But there are several people you could talk to. Actually, Tom is probably nearest to Sharlene in experience, and no-one could say he hasn’t done well.”

Helen worked alongside Geoff in the kitchen to prepare a stir-fry with the fresh vegetables and chicken pieces Geoff had fetched from the shops, only inconvenienced by her need for frequent visits to the toilet. But the meal was cooked, served and eaten, and they were sitting with mugs of tea when the intercom buzzed. Geoff went to the hall to answer it.

Helen heard, “Oh, Dulcie! Of course – come on up!”

The Rector, Dulcie Chesterman, entered the room, followed by Geoff. “Hello, Helen. How are you doing? It must be nearly time?” She patted her own ‘baby bulge’, rather smaller than Helen’s. “I think this one will be a Pentecost baby. So, Helen...”

“Won’t you sit?”

“I certainly will!” Dulcie lowered herself carefully into a fairly upright armchair. “Ah! Lovely.” She looked across at Helen. “So ... what troubles you?”

Helen smiled. “There needs to be something troubling me before I want to talk to you?”

Dulcie smiled, but sobered quickly. “I’m always happy to see you, but it seemed that there was something that wouldn’t wait until Sunday. Incidentally, if it’s difficult sitting through a service at church, perhaps you’d like me to bring Communion to you here.”

“Thanks...” Helen took a deep breath, let it out, and went on, “that might be good. I’m sure you know about frequent trips to the toilet. But that’s not why I wanted to talk to you. I’ve been asked if I ... if Geoff and I ... would foster one of the girls who was on the barge cruise last autumn. She talked to me, and when she left actually said she wished I was her mother. But apparently there’s some problem. She needs a home and there’s a shortage of foster places.”

“How do you feel about it?”

“Torn. I liked her. But obviously having her here would affect how Geoff and I behave, you know?”

Dulcie laughed. “I do know! Of course Richard and I haven’t had that sort of freedom since we’ve been married, but there are compensations. Besides, Liina gives us some privacy sometimes by taking Peter out.” She cocked her head. “Were there any other ... potential issues?”

“Apart from recognising that Sharlene is nearer in age to my husband than I am?” Helen smiled wryly at Dulcie. “Seriously, I trust him. It’s just insecurity which makes me edgy. But the other aspect is Sharlene herself. Can I trust her in my house? Not just with my husband, but with our lives, my new baby, our things.”