39.

As spring settled and the weather improved, Terri began to introduce a walk into their weekly sessions. Not far at first, just a stroll down through her back garden to the water’s edge, or a potter up the lane at the front of the cottage, where the hedgerows sparkled with pale yellow primroses. She knew that Biddy couldn’t walk too far, or at much of a pace, but she hoped that being outdoors would slowly reignite her desire to paint, if only on a subconscious level. Each day they walked a little further, and with each walk Biddy seemed to blossom just a little bit more. Her posture improved, her frown faded and the breeze blew a trace of colour into her cheeks. Terri always kept a baking project in reserve, just in case the weather was poor, or Biddy wasn’t feeling up to going outdoors, and she made sure there was always something freshly made that morning to have with their pot of tea when they returned from their walk.

And with every visit, Biddy appeared more relaxed. She still recalled fragments of memories from her past, but now not all of them were bad. The beach ignited positive recollections of days when she would sit at the water’s edge and sketch the birds. Her eyes transformed on those occasions. There was movement to them, and life. They glistened like shards of emeralds. She still had her quiet days, but the frequency and duration of her silences were becoming shorter and shorter as time moved on.

Terri had heard things about Alison Flemming and her cronies that made her skin crawl. The ‘big’ significant incidents were horrendous, yes; but it was the general humiliation, the relentless, exhausting, taunting and teasing that Biddy had suffered day in, day out, for so many years at the hands of these girls, which really disturbed her. She often wondered what kind of adults they had become. Did they ever think about Biddy? Did they carry any guilt? Surely Biddy must encounter at least one of them from time to time, or other folk from school, bystanders in the cruel pantomime which Alison had directed? Ballybrock was a small town, after all, and, despite her desire to be so, Biddy was not invisible. And what about Alison herself? Where was she? What had she done with her life?

Biddy did resolve some of Terri’s questions – nuggets of information gently teased from her during one of her visits. She learnt, for example, that Georgina Harte lived locally, with, from the sounds of it, a brood of children and a nicotine addiction. Julia Gamble, it transpired, worked for a building society in the town – but thankfully not the one Biddy’s father had set up his account in. ‘I don’t know what I would do if she worked in that one,’ Biddy had said, visibly shivering despite the warm spring sunshine. There were plenty of other folk from school who still lived locally, including Vanessa someone, who had started working in the library a few years ago, so Biddy had stopped going there.

‘And you know that local councillor, the one who’s always on TV talking about environmental stuff? Rory McBride?’

Terri nodded. ‘Oh yes, the handsome one with the dark wavy hair?’

‘He was in my class. He was . . .’ she hesitated, ‘. . . he hated the mountain.’

There was a pause again as Biddy seemed to be remembering something then she shrugged her shoulders and said, ‘I don’t know about Jackie. I haven’t seen her. And . . .’ she hesitated once more and then cleared her throat.

‘Anyway,’ she shook her head, ‘it doesn’t happen often – seeing someone from, you know, school. And if it does I just turn in the opposite direction, or look into a shop window or something. But I try to look down at the pavement or the floor as much as possible anyway, to avoid making eye contact with people. It’s safer that way.’ She looked at Terri, with a reassuring smile. ‘So it’s fine.’

Terri’s heart cracked a little when Biddy said that, and she had to turn her back and pretend to root around for something in her bag so that Biddy wouldn’t see her eyes water.

‘But,’ Terri could hear Biddy inhaling a long, deep breath, ‘a couple of weeks ago, I, well, I didn’t look away.’

‘Oh?’ Terri paused her fictitious bag-fumbling and blinked ferociously a few times before turning back to Biddy, eyes wide in anticipation. ‘Really?’

Biddy nodded, and smiled a half smile.

‘It was on the bus home. I saw Georgina, and she happened to look up, and well, I didn’t look away. She did. And afterwards I felt a bit sorry for her because she looked tired, and frazzled, and a little bit sad.’

Terri found she couldn’t speak, so she simply smiled at Biddy, and patted her hand, and with the rush of pride she felt in that second, the crack that had opened was instantly healed.

On the whole, that had been a good day, Terri reflected later, but she was still none the wiser whatsoever about the whereabouts of Alison Flemming.