Serial: Part Two. Runaway by Teresa Ashby

Runaway The future was looking rosy until their family unit was suddenly under threat of destruction

Fran tossed the used pregnancy-testing kit in the bin, and it felt as if she was throwing her life away. There were two people in the world she would have wanted to share the news with, and one had run away, while the other had been lying to her for months.

Now, though, her priority

was finding her mother.

She checked Marianne’s location on her phone, which

confirmed she was heading west, before removing Nick from her list of contacts and blocking his number.

Now it was his turn to wonder what was going on. She felt no satisfaction in that. Marianne couldn’t believe she was driving towards the West Country after so many years. Last time she was on the

M4, she’d been heading east, vowing never to go back. So desperate was she to escape, she’d hitched a lift with a lorry driver and had put Frannie in the sleeping compartment to sleep the journey away.

The lorry driver had been a lovely man.

‘Promise me you’ll be careful,’ he’d said.

‘I’m always careful,’ she said, but that wasn’t true. Now tears flooded her eyes and she rubbed them away angrily. Denny had always promised them a better future, but he wasn’t much more than a kid himself back then, and a reckless one at that.

But what Denny had done was worse than reckless. She’d shuddered, and the driver had glanced at her. ‘You OK?’

‘Fine,’ she’d muttered, turning her head away.

Marianne had managed OK on her own before she’d met Denny, but things were different now she had Frannie. Roughing it was no longer an option.

‘Are you ill? You’re very pale under that tan.’

‘I’m just tired.’

‘How about we stop and call your mum?

There must be someone at home worrying about you?’ ‘OK, first, it’s none of your business,’ Marianne had snapped. ‘Second, you’re wrong. There’s no-one home for me, there never has been. It’s just me and the kid. And third, if you’re going to keep asking questions, you may as well just stop here and let me and my daughter out.’

‘Point taken,’ he’d replied without taking any offence. ‘I won’t say another word.’

She’d shot him a grateful smile. ‘Thanks.’

She had never been to London before, but she was sure she could lose herself in

the giant city and find room in a squat until she could afford to rent somewhere. Before dropping her off, the lorry driver had pressed a wad of notes into her hands. ‘I can’t take that!’

‘I’ve got daughters,’ he’d said. ‘I wouldn’t want to think of any of them in your shoes. Take it and it’ll make me feel better about leaving you here.’

She kissed his cheek, saying, ‘Thank you.’

This was no use. Marianne couldn’t concentrate with all these thoughts whirling round her head, so she pulled into the motorway services to

take a break from the traffic.

She should have let Fran know where she was going, but that would have meant telling her the truth, and she was too much of a coward for that. It seemed better just to drop everything and go. ‘Running away again, Marianne,’ she thought bitterly. But she was different from the girl who’d run away all those years ago.

It was like looking back at the life of a stranger. She turned on her phone and

the notifications buzzed thick and fast: calls from the surgery and Fran, and a whole stack of text messages.

The surgery! Her patients! She felt sick. How could she have failed to let them know she wouldn’t be in? It was as if she’d reverted back to the old Marianne, the one who just ran blindly from one disaster to the next without thinking of the consequences.

She called the surgery. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean to throw everyone into a panic. Family emergency.’

‘I’ll sort out cover for you

for the rest of the week, but keep me informed and let me know when you’re coming back,’ her boss told her. ‘I hope things work out.’

‘I don’t know…’ Marianne said shakily. ‘I don’t know if I’m coming back. I need to take all the leave owed to me.’

‘Marianne, are you in some sort of trouble?’ ‘No, I’m fine,’ she said, and hung up.

Then there were all the messages from Fran.

She held her finger over the call button – but what could she say? When Fran found out, it would be as new and fresh as when it happened.

‘Coward,’ she thought, as she composed a quick text

telling Fran she was fine and that she just needed a bit of time away. No apologies, no explanations.

The fabric that held them together had already started to fray, and Marianne wasn’t sure if it could bind them any longer after this. She briefly considered turning back and going home, but she wasn’t sure it was home any more. North Devon was calling to her now, and the sooner she got there, the better. A few hours later, Marianne

gazed across the choppy water of the Bristol Channel and felt the tug of the girl she used to be calling to her. She could almost feel Denny’s strong, lean arms around her waist as he pulled her back against him the day they’d stopped here in their old, beaten-up camper van.

‘What are you thinking, Marianne?’ his voice had been so gentle, and she’d rested her head contentedly against his chest.

‘That I never want to leave

She should have let Fran know where she was going, but that would have meant telling her the truth

here. I love it here,

Denny. I love you.’

She had never felt so safe or loved as she had at that moment. A second baby had been growing inside her then, as tiny as a blackberry – a sibling for Frannie. They should have been on the brink of a wonderful future together with their beautiful daughter and another baby on the way. She’d felt Fran wriggle between them, wanting in on the hug, and Denny had lifted her up in his arms.

‘We’re going to be a proper family, Marianne,’ he said. ‘Two point four children. Actually, two point fur – we have to get a dog to complete our family.’

She’d laughed. ‘You always said it would be impractical to have a dog when we’re always on the road.’

‘Not for much longer,’ he said. ‘We’ll have one last,

carefree summer, then find

a house and settle down.

I’ll finish training to be a mechanic and we’ll be Mr and Mrs Respectable.’

That memory, that safe, warm feeling, would never go away. She’d kept it buried deep, but she’d never let it go – just as, in her heart, she’d never let Denny go.

She’d been fond of Terry, and she’d seen in him the security she needed for her child. She wasn’t proud of that fact, and she knew there were those who called her a gold digger.

Terry knew, too. ‘I hope that one day you’ll love me as much as I love you,’ he’d whispered to her on their wedding day.

‘I do love you,’ she’d told him, and he’d laughed softly.

But she did grow to love Terry, although not as she’d loved Denny, of course; she could never love anyone the way she’d loved him. Terry had encouraged her when she wanted to be a nurse, and he had endless patience with Fran. In the end, they’d made each other happy.

When Terry died, he’d split his estate between Marianne

and his children from his first marriage. She had enough to buy the bungalow, and she had her job – and, up until a few hours ago, she had Fran.

She got into her car, rested her head back and closed her

eyes. She just needed to rest for a while, then she’d continue on her way.

That last summer with Denny had been wonderful. They’d found a perfect spot to park the camper on a meadow by the river. They knew that a normal life awaited them at the end of it, and that made every moment all the sweeter.

Denny had some work to do on the camper, and they planned to stay a few days in their perfect spot before moving on.

He’d been looking for casual work locally, without any success, but they had enough money to tide them over for a few days, and something always came up, so Marianne wasn’t worried.

‘Keep an eye on Frannie. Don’t let her near the water.’

She’d drifted off to sleep with the sounds of bees buzzing, water gurgling and Frannie’s laughter in the background, only to wake up in the middle of a nightmare.

‘Get up, Marianne. Quick!’ Denny was urging. ‘Come on, love. We’ve got to move.’

‘Frannie?’ Marianne had sat bolt upright, fear clutching at her chest.

‘She’s right here.’ Denny helped her to her feet and pulled her towards the camper, picking Frannie up on the way.

Still sleep-numb, Marianne looked around and saw three vehicles heading towards them, bouncing across the meadow. A man was leaning out of the front of one of

them, firing a gun into the air.

‘Denny, what on earth?’ She stumbled, and he half-carried her the rest of the way, but when he tried to start the camper, the engine choked and died. He tried again and again, becoming more and more desperate. ‘Denny, they’ve got guns!’ ‘They’re just trying to scare us,’ he replied calmly and turned the ignition key again.

Why were people chasing them with guns? Her stomach twisted with fear. ‘Denny!’ she screamed.

‘It won’t start,’ he said, and by then it was too late. The three vehicles had pulled up around them.

‘I told you I wanted you gone!’ one of the men said. ‘We’ve just got rid of one lot. You needn’t think you’re setting up camp here with all your mates.’

Denny got out and stood on the grass amidst the men. He was tall and slim, and, looking back now, Marianne thought he looked very young, but he was so

charming and sure of himself. She grabbed Frannie, got out and stood beside him.

‘I know, and I’m sorry,’ Denny said, so calm, so reasonable, while Marianne’s stomach was churning. ‘But as you saw, I can’t get her started. I was planning to work on her today and leave tonight. It’s just us, no-one else is coming. Look, like I said before, I can work for you. I can turn my hand to anything. Let us stay a while.’

‘Did they tell you to leave, Denny?’ Marianne asked.

‘Yeah,’ he admitted. ‘When I went to the farmhouse to ask for casual work.’

‘I’m really sorry,’ Marianne said. ‘We’ll be away just

as soon as we can get the camper going.’

‘That heap of junk is going nowhere,’ one of the other men said.

Then there’d been a

flash of light and the

camper van – their home

– had gone up in flames.

‘No!’ Denny shouted as he rushed forward, calm no longer, but Marianne held

him back, terrified he’d get burnt – or worse – in his attempts to save the van.

‘Spread the word,’ the man said. ‘This is what happens

when I find unauthorised vehicles on my land. And don’t think of going to the police. It’ll be your word against mine. The vehicle was a death trap. It’s just lucky it didn’t go up with you in it.’

The strength ebbed from Marianne’s arms and she had to let Denny go, but as he broke away from her, a wave of dizziness washed over her and her legs gave way. She heard Frannie scream, then Denny was kneeling on the ground beside her, cradling her head in his lap as painful cramps took hold.

The peace had gone. All that was left was the crackle

of flames, the cloying stench of burning rubber and Frannie’s frantic screams.

They’d taken her to hospital in one of the Land Rovers, not that she'd remembered anything of the journey.

Her next memory was of lying in a hospital bed with Frannie sitting beside her, clutching her hand. Outside, it was getting dark. Where had the day gone?

A nurse looked in at her and Marianne heard her tell someone, ‘She’s awake.’

‘My baby?’ Marianne asked, her mouth dry as a young doctor came to her bedside.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, sadly, her face grave.

Marianne’s hands

had flown to her belly.

‘Where’s Denny?’ she’d sobbed. ‘I want Denny.’ She needed his arms around her and for him to make things right, the way he always did.

The emptiness inside her was unbearable.

The doctor looked uncomfortable. ‘He was very angry about the baby,’ she said. ‘He left the hospital some time ago. Also…’

‘Also what?’ Marianne

demanded fiercely.

‘We’ve contacted social services. For the little girl. Someone will be along to see you in a while. She needs somewhere to stay tonight.’ ‘No,’ Marianne breathed. She’d lost one child, she wasn’t going to give up another willingly. And, once Frannie was in the system, who knew how long it would take to get her back, if she ever did.

Marianne and Denny had both grown up in care, and they’d both vowed they would always be there to look after their own children.

The hospital was busy and the staff too occupied to notice Marianne getting out of bed and searching through a hospital belongings bag for her clothes.

She had to find Denny. They got outside the hospital and she had to sit down.

Her head was fuzzy and her stomach still cramped, but not as much as before.

She didn’t know where to go. But, in the end,

Denny found her.

‘What are you doing out here?’ he asked.

She looked up and wilted with relief when she saw him. He was still in his smokeblackened clothes, and his hair was singed.

‘Waiting for you,’ she said, standing up. ‘What are we going to do?’

‘Get up, Marianne. Quick! Come on, love. We’ve got to move’

‘You’re going back in there,’ he said, pointing towards the hospital buildings.

‘They said they wanted to keep you in until tomorrow.’

‘I can’t. They’re sending someone for Frannie. I won’t let them take her. We’ve got to get away, Denny. Now!’

She reached for him, but he pushed her hands down to her sides.

‘I have to go, Marianne. Something’s happened, something bad. I can’t hang around here, and you can’t come with me.’

‘What? I don’t understand. What’s happened, Denny?’

‘I went back to the camper to see if I could salvage any of our stuff, and there was nothing left. I was angry and I went to the farm, but it was burning. I saw them bring out a body, Marianne.

There were blue, flashing lights, people screaming. They’ll say I did it…’

‘Did you?’

He flinched. ‘How can you ask that? You know I value all life. I’m not like them.’ ‘You were angry. Perhaps you didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt…’

He flinched again, and this time he started backing away from her.

‘It’s better I go. Once everything has died down,

I’ll come and find you. Please, go back to the ward, Marianne. Let them look after you, because I can’t.’

‘If you go, then don’t ever come looking for us, Denny,’ Marianne said, her heart turning cold inside her chest. ‘You don’t mean that.’ Turning away from him, Marianne took Frannie’s hand and walked back into the hospital, watching from inside as Denny took off across the car park until he was out of sight. Once she was sure he was gone, she stepped out into the night and headed for the main road, where she thumbed a lift from the kind lorry driver.

She’d never been back since, not until now.

She checked the map book and started up the engine. It was time for her to complete her journey. It was dark when Fran pulled into the viewing point car park where Marianne had stopped earlier.

She got out of the car and looked across the black water. Far down below, the water frothed over the rocks, lit by the moonlight, then plunged back into darkness as clouds rushed across the night sky.

Fran pulled a blanket from the boot and climbed into the back of her car, where she wrapped herself up and curled up with her legs against her chest.

In the morning, one way or another, she’d find her mother and discover for herself exactly what was going on.

Was it something she’d done? Or something to do with Nick? Or was Marianne in some sort of trouble? Whatever it was, it couldn’t be so terrible that they couldn’t sort it out.

Then she’d deal with

Nick. She cuffed away a stray tear. She wasn’t going to cry for him or anyone.

She'd thought Nick was the love of her life, but clearly he had other ideas.

Wasn’t that what Marianne had thought about Denny? And just look how that had turned out… CONTINUES NEXT WEEK

Teresa Ashby, 2019

‘I saw them bring out a body. There were blue, flashing lights, people screaming. They’ll say I did it…’