Chapter 3

The week passed without incident, although Sharlene found that her work seemed easier, and she was certainly brighter in herself. Su Shelby spoke to the Principal of the Plume School, and made arrangements to visit with Sharlene the following week.

Helen ... well, Helen struggled a little with her advanced pregnancy, but got through, very grateful for Geoff’s support.

Geoff collected Sharlene from the Centre – actually, was waiting outside in the car-park when she bounced out, carrying her bag. She got in and buckled in. Geoff smiled.

“Good week?”

“Yeah.” Pause. “Missus Shelby said she’d spoken to you, and you were happy...”

“We are. Helen and me both. I think you’ll do fine once we get used to each other. Have you got much to do this weekend?”

“A book report. Larks Rise. By the way, Mister Clarke was impressed with the little netbook. I had to explain about Linux and the ... office suite?”

“That’s right. A collection of applications for use in an office – word processor, spreadsheet, database, graphics package. The most common one is Microsoft Office, of course, but there are others.”

They were halfway home when Sharlene spoke again. “Missus Shelby said that the police were investigating Brian.” (Brian Denton being Sharlene’s stepfather).

“Oh?”

“Yeah. They dug around a bit and found there had been complaints before, but nothing that could be proved at the time.”

“That’s interesting...”

“Yeah.” Pause. “He’s walking about outside, though. I hope he doesn’t know where I am.”

“Hm. He knows you’re in the Ashcroft Centre, though.” Geoff slowed the Prius, and pulled off the road in front of a farm gate. He rummaged in his pocket and produced a phone, found and dialled a number. “Hello? Missus Shelby?”

“Geoff? What can I do for you? Problem?”

“Maybe. Sharlene has mentioned that her stepfather is under investigation.”

“He is.”

“Sharlene’s worried that he’s loose in the world. Come to that, I’m worried.”

“I understand that. We took the precaution of obtaining a restraining order. He’s not allowed within a hundred yards of the Centre here, and must not approach Sharlene closer than one hundred yards.”

“That’s some reassurance, I suppose, but I’m not sure how effective that’ll be.”

She didn’t answer immediately, a recognition that restraining orders didn’t actually prevent someone infringing one. “Well, at least it’s a criminal offence if he approaches her, not merely a civil one.”

“Okay. I guess we’re okay for the time being, anyway.” Geoff cut the connection and turned to Sharlene. “It seems the Centre have taken out a restraining order against your stepfather. He can’t approach you or the Centre closer than one hundred yards.”

“Oh, that’s what Missus Shelby was telling me. I didn’t understand.”

The weekend went much the same as the first; possibly Sharlene was slightly more comfortable. Certainly, she seemed happy to accompany Helen and Geoff to church. In fact, she felt much like she did in the Billings’ flat – if not yet entirely comfortable, at least moving that way. She helped Geoff in the kitchen, sat and talked with Helen and fetched and carried for her, worked on her home work, helped with a jigsaw, and listened to music.

Geoff delivered Sharlene back to the Ashcroft Centre on Monday morning, in time to leave her bag and get to the morning group meeting. Geoff drove straight home.

A lot happened during that week. Small hours of Tuesday morning, Helen woke Geoff to tell him she was having contractions. Their son arrived, with no more than the usual difficulty, a few minutes after seven in the morning, and as Douglas George – ‘Dougie’ was feeding well, Helen and son were discharged into the care of a community midwife Wednesday evening.

Meanwhile, Su Shelby had arranged a visit to the Plume school for Friday. Normally, a Centre resident would return to the Centre each evening during an introduction to a new school, but in view of the distance, Su was hoping that Sharlene would be okay with the Billings. Of course the Plume could contact the Centre for support as well as the Billings should problems crop up.

The Principal and one of the teachers greeted them, and a short discussion ensued, during which Su delivered a brief outline of the situation and gave the Billings as Sharlene’s address, as well as contact numbers for the Centre. The teacher then took Sharlene to organise a class schedule, while Su bid the Head goodbye and took Sharlene’s bag to the Billings. There, she didn’t resist spending an hour with them including a cuddle with the newborn, but resisted the invitation to have lunch in favour of returning to the Centre.

Sharlene, meanwhile, was feeling a little vulnerable. She’d had a few introductions, a school lunch, and was trying hard to remember the names of some of the other students she’d met. That was something she’d talked about with Helen.

“Look, Love,” Helen had smiled, “you won’t remember everyone, but it’s better to ask than to pretend to know and get it wrong. A simple, ‘sorry, remind me of your name’, should work perfectly, and if someone takes the hump, they’re possibly not worth knowing anyway.”

But the day passed, and she left the building with the other students. There’d been no arrangement for Geoff (or Helen) to meet her after school, though she did wonder if one of them would be there and she looked to see. The entrance to the school was on the opposite side of the campus from the Billings’ flat, so she had a little more than half a mile to walk.

Without knowing why, she diverted to walk through Promenade Park, which was a little out of the direct route, and found herself cutting through the churchyard and, inexplicably, turning the handle of the door – which clanked, loudly, as usual – and pushed the door open. The building was a little warmer than the outside, and she wandered quietly through and down the centre aisle, looking up at the figure of Christ, flanked by the two Marys, hanging above the Chancel arch.

“Hello, Sharlene.”

Startled, she turned, having heard nothing before the voice. “Hello. I’ve seen you here before?” He was tall, clad in a brown robe – a ‘habit’? – cinched around the waist with a brown rope. He had long dark hair, tied back in a thick braid, and a beard. If he’s a monk, shouldn’t he have part of his head shaved? “But I don’t know your name?”

“Do you not? You may call me Emmanuel, if you like.”

“Oh ... thanks ... are you a monk?”

He chuckled – a friendly sound, rather than a sarcastic one. “Not a monk. How are you feeling?”

She frowned, thinking about that. “I’m not sure. I’m better away from home, from my mother, that is. Helen ... and Geoff ... are being very kind to me. But there are a lot of changes. I got used to being in the Centre, made some friends, and now I’m starting again. It’s all ... unsettling. Do you know, I don’t even know why I’m here ... in church, I mean. I never went to church until coming to stay with Helen and Geoff.”

“You’re here because you were called, Sharlene.”

“Called? I don’t understand.”

“Do you know what your name means?”

“I’ve never thought about it.”

“It means ‘free’. And that’s what we want for you – to be free. Free to be what you were made to be, free of fear.” He paused there to let her assimilate his words. “I hope you keep coming here and will find your way ahead. Talk to me, or talk to Dulcie ... or Sister Helen, of course. She knows me, too.”