The Broken Man Part 14

'And why was that? Did someone beat you?'

'No, miss.'

'Were they spiteful in any other way?'

'No, miss.'

'So, they were good to you, then?'

Adam hesitated before giving his answer. 'Yes ... only ...' Falling silent, he returned his gaze to the floor.

'Adam! Look at me.'

Reluctantly, Adam raised his gaze.

'Dearie me!' Exasperated, Miss Martin clambered out of her chair, to pace anxiously back and forth. 'This is not good, Adam! After three attempts to place you with fine, G.o.d-fearing families, you are still here, with us. Why is that?'

'I don't know, miss.'

'Well, I do know! Mr and Mrs Shaler have now officially reported to us. They claim that not once did you even try to fit in. They said you were sullen, disobedient, and that one time, you sat outside in the garden for hours, refusing to come in, even though you had no coat on and it was pouring with rain. Is that true, Adam? Did you do these things?'

'Yes, miss.'

The atmosphere grew heavy, while Miss Martin, loudly tutting, padded her way up and down the carpet.

Meanwhile, Adam closed his mind to that particular foster family and his bad behaviour while living there. He even closed his mind to Miss Martin as she paced back and forth.

Inevitably, his thoughts wandered back to the house where he had lived with his darling mother and the devil who took her from him.

Recently, both Phil and Miss Martin's staff had gone to great lengths to keep the newspapers from him, but he heard the gossip, and what he had learned was more than enough. They said his father had been arrested and locked up for a long time. That it was to do with another woman, that he had beaten her up ... just as he had beaten his own mother.

So, Edward Carter was in prison. Adam was glad about that.

But it was not enough. It would never be enough!

'I so need to see you settled,' Miss Martin went on, 'but it has not gone well so far. Which is why I continue to ask myself, how on earth are we going to get you settled with a good family? Adam, do you hear what I say?'

Miss Martin's question jolted him back to the moment, 'Yes, Miss Martin.'

'Well?'

'I'm sorry, miss ... I don't know.'

'Hmm.'

Flummoxed by his negative att.i.tude, Miss Martin stole a moment to study this troubled but capable boy, and reflect on the dreadful experiences he had encountered through his short life. Not for the first time, she was deeply saddened.

'Adam, you do realise you could have a great future, if only you would set your mind to it?'

When he chose not to comment, she persevered. 'I'm told by your teachers that you have a natural talent for painting. I understand they've told you as much. Isn't that so?'

'Yes, miss.'

'Do you enjoy painting?'

'Yes, Miss Martin.'

'Why is that, Adam? What do you see in painting that brings you pleasure? They tell me that most of the images are somewhat dark and brooding, and yet somehow they quicken the heart and fire the imagination.' She paused, before asking softly, 'What makes you want to paint these dark pictures, Adam?'

Adam had never been asked that before. In truth, he had never even thought about it, but now, the answer came to him so easily. 'Most of all, I like painting my mother.'

'Really? And why is that, do you think?'

Adam gave a whimsical smile. 'I paint her when she's walking along the hill rise behind our house, because then she was happy, and so very pretty. It's like springtime. But then he hurts her, and everything becomes dark and ugly. It's like ...' he struggled for the right words, '... it's like she's running away, but she can't get through the trees ... it's dark and shadowy. The trees are like giants. They stretch out their branches and trap her inside, and then it becomes a prison. I can hear her calling for me, but I can't get her out. I can't save her.'

His voice hardened to a harsh whisper. 'That's what I draw, because that's what he did to her.'

'And does it help you, Adam? When you draw these pictures, how does it make you feel?'

'Sometimes happy, sometimes sad. Especially when I draw a picture where I make him be the prisoner. He's the one in the dark, afraid and trapped. In my paintings, I punish him. And then I feel better inside.'

Miss Martin was shocked at the hatred in Adam's face, whenever he referred to his father. She shared Adam's abhorrence of his father's cruelty to his mother, but to hear the boy talk with such loathing she found deeply upsetting.

More than that, she feared for this sad and lonely boy. He had done no wrong, and yet it seemed his punishment was never-ending. His bad experiences appeared to have crippled him, both mentally and emotionally.

'Adam, I know life has not been kind to you, and I truly am sorry for that. But maybe now it's time to try and put the past behind you. Sometimes, through no fault of our own, terrible things happen to us, and we wonder why.'

Adam simply nodded.

'It's foolish, Adam, but often we blame ourselves when we are just the innocent bystander. You, in particular, have had to deal with things that most children of your age would never encounter. But you really must try very hard to face up to the sequence of events that brought you here, because if you don't face up to them, they will always haunt you. Do you understand what I'm trying to say, Adam?'

Choked with emotion and unable to speak, Adam nodded again.

'No, Adam!' Miss Martin raised her voice. 'A nod of the head will not do! You must say it out loud. Say it, Adam: "Bad things have happened to me, and I have to face up to them. It's the only way I can move forward and build a life of my own." Say it for me, Adam. Say it loud and clear!'

A moment pa.s.sed and still he could not say it. Miss Martin waited hopefully.

When Adam continued to be silent, she took it to be a simple matter of wills between the two of them. In a way she had always known it would come to this. So, she rose to the challenge in her indomitable way.

Taking a sheaf of typed paper from her drawer, she laid it on the desktop, slowly and deliberately put on her spectacles, and, appearing to ignore him, she pretended to be reading, occasionally adding a little tick alongside the writing, merely for effect.

In the corner of the room, the grandfather clock ticked sombrely. The rhythmic sound of the swinging pendulum was the only sound in the room.

Moments pa.s.sed, and still Miss Martin kept her head down, seeming not to care if Adam was there or not.

After a while, Adam's hesitant voice began: 'Bad things happened to me ...' He paused, thinking of his mother, before going on. 'I have to ... face up to them. It's the only way I can build ... a life ... of my own.' There was a moment when his voice seemed to resonate with the ticking of the clock before his m.u.f.fled sobbing filled the room.

'There!' Miss Martin got out of her chair in a flurry. 'Ssh, child. Well done for being strong enough to say that out loud. I know it can't have been easy. Yes! Well done, my dear.' On an impulse, she wrapped him in her chubby warm arms and held him to her ample bosom for a moment, before dipping into her pocket and flourishing a pretty white handkerchief. 'Here ... wipe your eyes.'

With a tear in her own eye, she sat beside him, and for a while neither of them spoke.

Presently, she addressed him kindly. 'I do realise how very hard it's been for you losing the mother you loved, and then learning how your father is now imprisoned.' With some embarra.s.sment at showing the softness of her character, she admitted, 'Believe me, Adam, when I say that if I could take away your pain, you know I would.'

'I'm glad he's in prison.' Adam wished that man all the harm he'd caused his mother. 'I hate him! I hope they never let him out.'

Having momentarily dropped her guard, Miss Martin chose not to remark on what Adam had said. Instead, she abruptly returned to her formal self.

'Now then, Adam! I have good news for you.' Having got his attention, she informed him, 'We have another foster family who, I hope, might give you the home you deserve ... and before you get worried, you won't be the only child, as in the previous home. This family already has two children: an eighteen-month-old baby girl and her nine-year-old sister. Oh, and a dog called Buster.'

Having seen his face light up at the mention of a dog, she asked him, 'Have you ever had a dog, Adam?'

'No, Miss Martin. Phil has a dog, though. He takes it for walks every morning before he drives the school bus.'

Adam's whole manner had lightened, and for the moment he was not consciously thinking of his parents. 'What kind of dog is it, Miss Martin?'

'As I recall, Buster is a little brown terrier. That's all I know. And that's only because they asked if having a dog might stop them from fostering. But in actual fact, we sometimes welcome a pet of sorts. It helps the foster child to fit in. Mind you, if the child is nervous of pets, then that's a different story. We would never send a child where he or she might feel threatened.'

Delighted by Adam's response, she went on, 'So now, Adam, do you have any more questions?'

After giving it some thought, Adam was concerned enough to ask, 'Miss, if they've got two children of their own, why do they want to foster someone else's child?'

Miss Martin began, 'Of course you must understand, that this subject is not for discussion outside of this room?'

'Yes, miss.'

'Very well then, and because I have secured their permission, I may partly share their confidence with you. Suffice for you to know that for medical reasons it is not possible for them to have another child. Apparently, they had planned a large family, and they had hoped their next baby might be a boy. Unfortunately, that cannot happen now, and so they decided to apply for fostering ... with a view to adopt, if you fit in all right with the family.'

Adam was curious. 'Miss Martin, why would they want me? Why not a baby?'

Miss Martin had gone as far as she was allowed. 'I am not privy to that information, although if I were to make a guess, I would say that as they already have a baby they maybe wanted an older child. Also, they might think a sensible brother could befriend and guide their nine-year-old daughter. But, as I say, that is only my opinion, and you must not quote me on that. Do you understand?'

'Yes, miss.'

'Good!'

Whenever Miss Martin put on her spectacles, she meant business; and she meant business now.

'Now then, Adam. I can tell you that I gave them information on several children, including you. And because I believe in you, Adam, I did not hesitate to sing your praises.'

'Thank you, miss.'

'Fortunately, they seemed to warm to the idea of having you. But of course, I needed to arrange a meeting with them, so they can take stock of you, and you can also take stock of them, so you can see how you feel when you meet them in person. You will spend some time together, approximately half an hour initially, right here in this office. Afterwards, you must say whether or not you feel happy to go with them if they indeed choose you ... because, of course, it's a two-way thing. So, Adam, is that all right with you?'

'Yes, miss.' In truth, mainly because of the dog, he found himself growing a little excited. 'I would like to meet them. Oh, and will they bring the dog?'

Miss Martin laughed. 'Bless you, child. You have to look at the family first. As for whether they might bring the dog, I have no idea.' She gave a merry little smile. 'Although I will admit I did not forbid the little dog's presence.'

After Miss Martin dismissed him, Adam danced all the way down the corridor, a wide smile on his face.

Maybe, at long last, things were about to change for the better.

Since Adam had first been placed in the children's home, Phil had been a regular visitor. As promised, he continued to remain a constant friend and advisor throughout Adam's feelings of insecurity.

In his own wise manner, he guided Adam through his anger and his sadness, and in doing so, he had not only brought a measure of companionship and love to the boy, but he had unexpectedly found a friend in Polly, one of the staff members at the home.

Whenever Phil had been allowed to take Adam into town to watch a football match, or merely walk along the ca.n.a.l towpath, Polly was officially recruited to accompany them, as part of the security measures.

Neither Phil nor Adam had any problem with that. In fact, through the early months when Adam found it difficult to settle, and through the bad, painful period when he was rejected from his first foster family, Polly had worked with Phil in building Adam's badly bruised confidence.

In the process, both Adam, and Phil in particular, had come to respect and admire Polly; so much so, that whenever he arranged an outing with Phil, he also looked forward to seeing the homely little care a.s.sistant.

Today they had planned to sit by the ca.n.a.l and feed the ducks. It was one of Adam's favourite pastimes.

'Make sure Adam is back here by two-thirty.' Being a stickler for the rules, Miss Martin went on to list the regulated dos and don'ts that accompanied any child on a trip from the children's home. 'Remember, Adam ... do as you're asked, and always follow Polly's instructions. No changing the plans, or wandering off on your own. And you must stay in sight the whole time. Do you understand?'

'Yes, Miss Martin.'

'Good!' She issued similar instructions to Polly, then she waved the three of them on their way. 'Off you go, then.'

As Phil was about to go out of the door, she called him back. 'A moment, please, Phil.'

Phil hurried back to her, while Polly and Adam waited in the porch.

Pre-empting her reason for calling him back, he a.s.sured her earnestly, 'Don't you worry, Miss Martin. We'll have Adam back by two-thirty, as requested.'

Bold enough to speak out of turn, he told her what was on his mind. 'If I may say so, Miss Martin, it really doesn't give us much time together.' He valued his time with Adam; and Polly too, if he was truthful.

Unmoved by his remark, Miss Martin glanced at the grandfather clock. 'It's now twelve-thirty. To my reckoning, that allows you two hours.'

Unable and unwilling to reveal delicate official information, and because Phil was not the boy's official guardian, she gave a certain little smile, which offered Phil the smallest clue to her reason for cutting short the outing.

'The reason I need him back here is because I care about his future ... as I know you do.' She paused while the remark sank in, then went on in a softer tone, 'Adam might have important visitors arriving to see him. He needs to prepare himself, and I need a short time with him before the important event.' She put on her most official tone of voice, 'If you consider it a problem to have him back by two-thirty, then I must withdraw permission for the outing.'

Again, she gave that certain little confiding smile. 'I'm sure you understand what I'm saying.'

Phil believed he understood exactly what she might be saying, and it brought a smile to his face. 'You can trust me, Miss Martin. I will have Adam back here, in good time for the "important visitors".' He had an impulse to give a little wink. 'Thank you.'

'Ah! So we do understand each other?'

'I believe so.'

'Good man!'

Phil went away with a bounce in his step.

A few moments later, Adam surprised him by saying cautiously, 'I think I might know why they want me back.'

'Oh, do you now? And why might that be then?'