The look on his face said he still wasn’t happy about it.
Abigail remembered the furore over these deportations, which had taken place on a technicality. It had been dubbed the Windrush scandal. In Sidney’s case, it sounded like he had found a good lawyer who had managed to overturn the decision and bring him home.
Abigail also recalled that the prime minister had offered a public apology and that a Windrush compensation scheme had been set up. She imagined that it was small recompense for the precious time Sidney had lost with his family.
Sidney sighed. He echoed her thoughts. ‘No amount of money or apologies could compensate for losing my grandson. I knew he needed me around. I was his father figure. He fell in with the wrong crowd while I was away. He was a good boy. He wanted to be a scientist or a doctor like me.’
‘It wasn’t your fault,’ Abigail said softly, although she knew from experience that they were hollow words.
She stared at Sidney, wondering how long he’d been retired and if he’d worked at the same hospital as Toby. Perhaps they’d passed each other in the corridors and even spoken with one another. Abigail didn’t ask. Unlike Sidney, she couldn’t talk about what had happened. It was as if not speaking about it made it less real.
Sidney rubbed his knees. ‘Damn arthritis. Do you mind if we walk?’
They rose from their chairs, and Ulysses woke from his snooze. He dragged his paws as they left their comfortable spot in the sunshine overlooking the Thames. They strolled together back toward the bridge, crossing to the other side. ‘Are you returning to work?’ Sidney asked.
Abigail shook her head. ‘I’m on compassionate leave.’ She caught the look on his face. Maybe he was wondering why she wasn’t dressed in casual clothes; it clearly wasn’t a working day for her. He didn’t comment. The fact was that Abigail dressed like this every working day, getting up as though she was going to work; as though Toby would walk in after another night shift, kiss her goodnight and crawl into bed before she left for the day.
‘Where do you work?’
‘In the accounts department of a city firm. I’m training to be an accountant. I should have done it years ago, but …’ Abigail didn’t want to get into the reasons she had decided not to take things further when she was in her twenties. She’d thought she’d have children and just do a low-key, part-time number, focusing on family, not a career. Then, as the years passed, and she’d failed to get pregnant, she’d started sitting the exams and working her way towards the qualification.
‘An accountant.’
‘Not quite – I still have two more exams.’
‘That’s …’ Sidney was suddenly lost for words. Abigail wasn’t a stranger to that reaction when she told people what she did for a living. It was a bit of a conversation killer. Thinking of her work brought to mind the letter that now had doggy teeth marks. ‘Do you mind?’ she said to Sidney, getting the letter out of her pocket. ‘It’s from a work colleague.’ The colleague had gone to the trouble of posting it through her door. Although Abigail knew she was avoiding things, this might have something to do with work.
‘Go ahead,’ said Sidney.
Abigail opened the envelope as she walked and skim-read the letter.
‘Everything all right?’ Sidney asked.
Abigail frowned. ‘You know I said I was on compassionate leave …’
Sidney nodded.
‘Well, they’ve said they’ll keep my job open, so I can take as much time as I need.’
‘That’s a good thing – isn’t it?’
‘I suppose.’ Abigail knew she needed more time, but she berated herself for the fact that she still wasn’t ready to return to work.
Abigail was about to ask Sidney where he had worked before he retired when he said, ‘Can I walk you home?’
Abigail guessed he was still worried about her. He said, ‘My pill-popping days are over – how about you?’
‘I don’t take any pills.’
He looked at her.
‘Oh, I see …’ Abigail understood what he was getting at.
‘When I saw my daughter, I realised I couldn’t do it to her, you know? She’d already lost her son. I had to think about the ones I was leaving behind.’ He paused.‘Are your bridge-climbing days behind you?’
Abigail stared at him. She didn’t have anyone she would be leaving behind. Toby was gone.
‘If you’re thinking there isn’t anybody, think again, Abigail.’