The Pharmacist

The seemingly endless wait was taking its toll on Alice. Sarah could see the strain in her face and the dark circles around her eyes as soon as she opened the door. The woman looked so much older than fifty-five, her skin sallow and eyes dull and red from crying.

Sarah smiled. ‘Are you up for a visitor?’

‘Oh, Sarah, yes, please come on in; it’s so lovely to see you.’ Alice led the way to the kitchen and automatically switched on the kettle. It was late morning and Sarah knew her friend would be alone now that Brenda had returned to Matlock and Millie was back at school. Sarah felt the frustration of there being no news of Rachel or Tom and could hardly imagine how Alice felt. Hopefully, some company would cheer her up.

As she waited for the kettle to boil, Alice turned to her friend, ‘Your husband rang me earlier to tell me they’ve found Tom’s car in the woods. I don’t suppose that’s good news, is it?’

Sarah shook her head sadly, unable to offer the comfort Alice wanted.

‘I suppose there’s still hope. Tom wasn’t inside and until they find a body…’ Alice didn’t finish her sentence and turned instead to the task of making tea.

Sarah took the cup of tea Alice handed to her and they moved into the lounge. Outside, the rain poured down, a summer storm battering the gardens, the rhythm pounding on the French windows, and adding to the room’s sombre mood. It was so much easier to be positive when the sun was shining, but the gardens needed rain, even if Alice didn’t.

‘How’s Millie settling back in at school?’ Talking about her granddaughter usually distracted Alice. The little girl was the one bright spot in the woman’s life at the moment.

‘Really well, and so much better than I expected. Her teacher says she’s far more relaxed than before, as if a weight’s been lifted from her little shoulders. She’s entering into activities with much more enthusiasm and happy to be with her friends again, particularly Evie. I’m pleased for her, obviously, but I miss having her here with me. Selfish, I know, but I’ll be glad when they break up for the summer soon.’

‘Quite natural, I would say. Still, doing the school run will keep you busy and I’m sure there’ll be plenty of playdates over the holidays.’

‘Yes, there’s that to look forward to. I’m relieved that Millie’s turning out to be a more confident and sociable child. Each time she laughs, I’m almost startled – Rachel never laughed. It’s a sound I could get used to.’ Alice smiled. ‘She’s not at all like her mother. Strange, isn’t it?’

‘A bit of a relief, I should imagine.’

‘Yes, I don’t know where I went wrong with Rachel. I feel like such a failure as a mother.’ Alice was verging on tears again.

‘You’re far from a failure! You mustn’t even entertain such a thought. You’ve shown remarkable strength of late, Alice, and you really couldn’t have done more for Rachel than you have. But sadly, I think there’s something in her make-up you were never going to change.’

‘You think so?’

‘Yes, I do. You’ve nothing to beat yourself up about; you did as much as humanly possible.’

‘Still, I can’t help thinking that perhaps I could have handled things differently, been a better mother, you know?’

‘We all have regrets about past decisions – children don’t arrive with a handbook, we simply have to muddle through. But, for what it’s worth, I think you’ve done as much as you possibly could. You’ve put Rachel before yourself at every turn, and now you’re doing the same for Millie. I admire you, Alice.’

‘Thank you. You’ve been so kind, and Jack too, I don’t know what I’d have done without you both. Your husband’s such an understanding and wise man, isn’t he? He’d make an excellent doctor or a priest, perhaps? But I suppose the police need compassionate men too.’

Sarah smiled at her friend’s words. Jack would be amused to learn that she thought he’d make a good priest; she’d tell him that one later.

‘Your son’s a doctor, isn’t he?’ Alice asked.

‘Our youngest, Dan, yes. He’s still training, but he’ll qualify in a few more years, and I think he’ll be good at it. There’s a lot of his father in him.’ Sarah was struck by a sudden pang of guilt at the thought of her wonderful family when Alice had lost so much. Jenny, her natural daughter, had been taken from her far too soon, together with her sister’s family. And now Rachel had proven to be nothing short of evil, which must be heart-breaking for her. As for Tom, this was still a mystery, which must constantly be preying on Alice’s mind. Sarah knew how blessed she was to have Jack and her boys and was so very thankful.

Almost as if Alice was reading her mind, she went on to say, ‘Treasure your family, Sarah. They’re the most precious gift you’ll ever have.’ Her mood was pensive again; the words almost drowned out by the hammering rain on the windows. ‘Tom’s not coming back, is he? In my heart, I’ve begun to accept that he’s dead – it’s so hard, but it’s the only thing that makes sense. If Rachel was so desperate to get me put into a home, she’s done something to Tom too. There’s no other explanation, is there?’