Chapter 3

Chrissie had not slept well, her rest disturbed by her thoughts whilst awake and her dreams whilst asleep; dreams revisiting her life between the death of her parents and her adoption by the Yeomans. Not the positive parts, not Tom, or Jessica, Dave and Alison; not Amy or John ... but the rapes, the humiliation, being treated as an object, not a person. Once more, she woke with the first light and made her way downstairs to make coffee and toast. Not that she really felt hungry, rather that the homely routine helped her, slightly, regain her equilibrium.

She poured black coffee into a mug and spread butter and marmalade on the toast. She'd just taken the first bite when she was shocked by a voice.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

Her head whipped round to see the petite, oriental figure of Anh Knight in pyjamas and slippers at the kitchen door.

"I talked about it before ... to Trudy Waters. It helped at the time but now..."

"Trudy Waters? She helped to put me back together the year I married Terry."

"You..."

"I didn't realise when I married Terry that something in my previous life would surface and start causing problems. I was sexually abused by my family from being twelve. I thought I was alright, but after we married ... let's say, I was a mess. I thought I was ... dirty, unworthy of his love. Trudy really helped. But the thing that made the real difference in the end was being healed. Which is why I'm ordained. So..."

"I don't know what I believe about God," Chrissie said, "after all, He ... if he exists ... let my parents die, let me be taken to my aunt and be abused by my uncle, let me be taken into prostitution..."

"Brought you here, found you a home with a loving family ... and, unless I'm much mistaken, gave you the love of a good man."

"But I can't ... forget. Can't allow myself..."

"Chrissie ... when you're ready, you've got to face this thing. Maybe go back to Trudy. But, when you're ready, come and see me. Believe me, I've been there and I know there's an answer. Besides ... I like Tom. I've sailed with him, remember? He's a good man. Also, he's your man. Don't hurt him."

Chrissie didn't say anything, she just thought; 'I don't want to hurt him. That's why I can't have him.'

Anh watched her, quite sure what was going through her mind.

"I'm going to walk towards Kingsfleet," Chrissie said, standing abruptly, wondering why she'd said that, rather than 'I'm going for a walk'.Leaving the kitchen, Anh's eyes following her, she snagged a fleece off a hook in the hallway, grabbed her guitar case automatically and left, closing the door carefully.

Anh briefly considered returning to her husband, but instead poured herself some coffee from the half jug Chrissie had left, sat at the kitchen table and talked to her God.

She thought it strange that the idea of being part of God's 'us' should be so reassuring. She rested her head on her forearms on the table, and drifted off into sleep.

Tom, unusually, did not wake until disturbed by noise from the quay; it was past eight. After a quick shower, he walked briskly up High Street to the Crystal Café, where he ordered an enormous cooked breakfast. A large flat-screen T/V on the wall was showing music videos rather than the usual news and his attention was caught by an old one – Simon and Garfunkel;

"When you're weary, feeling small,
When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all;
I'm on your side. When times get rough
And friends just can't be found,
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down.
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down.

When you're down and out,
When you're on the street,
When evening falls so hard
I will comfort you.
I'll take your part.
When darkness comes
And pain is all around,
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down.
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down.

Sail on silvergirl,
Sail on by.
Your time has come to shine.
All your dreams are on their way.
See how they shine
If you need a friend
I'm sailing right behind.

Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind.
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind."

He was very thoughtful as he walked back to the quay, grabbed a duffle-bag and stuffed it with a change of clothes and toilette articles from his boat, got in his car and set off for Felixstowe, wondering why his mood was rising as he got nearer. The old radio was tuned to the local station, but he changed it to Radio Suffolk as he neared Ipswich ... just in time to hear 'Bridge over Troubled Water' beginning ... again. Perhaps someone was sending him a message?

Chrissie didn't get far along the footpath, just far enough to be out of sight and earshot of the houses. It was cool and with the wind, though it was from the south-west, a little uncomfortable, so she clambered down the bank, checked the tune of her guitar and began to pick out some Tarega. Soon she was lost in the thrall of the music, escaping her emotional discomfort.

She gave a squeak when she was touched on the shoulder and her reverie was broken. It was Jenni, dressed for running, but her t-shirt over a sports bra was soaked with sweat.

"I didn't know you were into running," Chrissie commented.

"I'm not, really. I ran a little when I first met Dave, because he did, but I started again to try to get fit after Davie was born. I think it's working, but, oh, my, it's hard work! Do you know you're sitting almost exactly where Dave found me? He saved my life that day ... in both senses. I was a shivering, hypothermic, almost comatose, wreck – and an emotional wreck too."

"You told me about that, didn't you? I can't remember if you told me why you were here?"

"Well, simply put, I ran away from an abusive family situation and ended up in prostitution. I managed to escape that, but hadn't really anywhere to go. I took a wrong turn and in the dark ... I just didn't know what to do..." her voice trailed away and when Chrissie looked at her, she could see her eyes were bright with tears.

"I guess..." Chrissie said slowly, "we've been lucky..."

"Yes ... I had Dave, then Marty married me. I've had the ships and now I've got Davie. You've got your music and you've got Tom ... but Jessica..." she trailed off again.