There's None So Blind

When we got to my home, I showed them where to settle themselves. It was quite painful to see these children settling into my children's old rooms. I told Sheila she would have my bed and I would use the put-you-up in my study downstairs. That way she would be near the children and I would be on a different floor. I figured no compromising situations could occur that way.

Come on, there are some really weird guys out there now days. Sheila didn't know me from Adam. I was watching my own back.

To the children's disappointment my house wasn't decorated for the season, so I dug the artificial Christmas tree out and the Christmas decoration box. Then the children and I set about changing things with a vengeance. I did the usual and spent God knows how long getting the Christmas lights to work. Why is it when you last put them away they worked just fine, but when you get them out again you have to check nearly every light before they will come on?

Sheila still had the problem of Christmas presents for the children. That I solved by digging out the presents I had brought for my children the year before, that they hadn't lived long enough to receive. I had put them away in a cupboard and tried to forget about them. It was painful for me to do, but having done it, I was glad I did. Sheila's children were about the same age as mine would have been.

Christmas morning was an enjoyable time for me. The best Christmas day I'd had in years. I had some strange feelings watching the children open those presents. Look, I'm not going into that; it's far too painful. Sheila started cooking Christmas dinner whilst I played with the children.

About twelve some guy arrived from Sheila's insurance company. He was a loss adjuster and had come to tell Sheila that she had nothing to worry about; the company would organise the repair of the house and would inform her when and where to choose her replacement furniture and carpeting.

"Christ, they're on the ball!" I commented to Sheila after he had gone.

"You're not kidding! I hadn't even told them about the fire yet," she replied. "I wonder how they knew where to find me?"

We didn't really solve that one. Later when we enquired, the insurance company said they had received a phone call on Christmas Eve reporting the fire and making a claim on Sheila's behalf. The odd thing was their records said the call had been made during the morning, well before I had gone to the hospital to meet Sheila and before I had invited her and her children to stay with me.

That Christmas was a good one for me. Yes, I did kiss Sheila under the mistletoe, but it was a very respectful kiss and we only did it because the children insisted.

Having children in the house again soon came to the neighbours' attention. Well, the neighbours' children actually. I looked out of the kitchen window on Boxing Day and noticed several of them in the garden playing with Sheila's children. Suddenly folks who had been avoiding my eye for the last few years were smiling and waving enthusiastically whenever they saw me. They also took to stopping me in the street for a chat.

I thought we were just beginning to settle into our new living arrangements, when the New Year came along. At the stroke of midnight there was a bang on the door, half a dozen of the neighbours came in waving bottles of spirits and before anyone knew what was going on, an impromptu party started up.

Before my wife had left me, this had been a regular New Year's occurrence. I think the neighbours had stayed away in the ensuing couple of years, as I had turned into a bit of a killjoy. Now it looked like they intended to make up for lost time.

I won't go into details, as I honestly don't remember very much about that night. Until I realised that the neighbours had all gone home and Sheila and I, who had both drunk much more than we should have, were making out on the sofa. Nothing really heavy, but I suddenly realised that I had one hand on Sheila's breast and my other hand on her leg under the hem of her dress.

I'm not sure where my mind had been or what I thought I was doing, but I suddenly realised it wasn't the right thing to be doing.

Sheila is a very good-looking woman, I think very few men would want to kick her out of bed. But, hey, I'm nothing special. So I had to wonder, just why would she be letting me do what I was. I didn't want her to sleep with me, just because she felt she was obliged to. Because she was grateful that I had saved her and the children's lives, and given them somewhere to live. So I rapidly brought the encounter to a halt.

Sheila appeared to me to be a little surprised that I brought the encounter to a halt. She looked embarrassed and went very quiet for a while, before rapidly retreating up to her room. We didn't discuss what had nearly happened that night again and we never again got anywhere near being intimate with each other after that evening, although over the following months I thought we became very close friends. But it was a very strange situation, with both of us going out of our way never to come into bodily contact with each other. You know the idea, detours completely around the other side of the room, rather than squeezing past one another.

I became Uncle Ray to the children, because for some reason little Yvette had had trouble-pronouncing Graham. The way Yvette said it I sounded like Ray or something near to it, and the other two children soon took up calling me Uncle Ray as well. For simplicity and so as not to confuse the children, Sheila also started calling me Ray. Over the next few months the neighbours' children also began to refer to me as Uncle Ray. And before I knew where I was, Ray became my new name.

I spent a lot of time with the children over those months. Look, when you've got children in the house, you just take them for granted; or rather I had with my own children. When they are suddenly not there anymore, you certainly do miss them and all the things you should have done with them. Having Sheila's children in the house was like a second chance for me, although I think I did get melancholy a few nights, wondering whether I had been as good a father as I could have been to my own children.

Over time I discovered that Sheila's husband had taken his own life. Apparently his business had gone broke and he just couldn't handle it. He'd had a nervous breakdown and turned into a depressive, before eventually committing suicide. I didn't learn this all at once and not all of it from Sheila either. It was more that I had to work it out, from picking up bits and pieces here and there.

Work began on Sheila's house quite quickly, but we were told early on that it was going to take some considerable time. The heat had been so great that a lot of the structure of the house had been damaged, requiring an almost complete rebuild. Even the people in the other-half of the semi had to move out for a while whilst the party wall was rebuilt. All five of us would visit the house every week to see what progress had been made.

To outsiders, life in my house must have looked very normal. Sheila and I, to anyone who didn't know us, must have looked like husband and wife living together with our three children. But that wasn't the case; there was none of the intimacy that a husband and wife normally share together. For the first few months, the only times that Sheila and I left the house together were to go shopping, visiting the cemetery (Sheila's husband was in the same cemetery as my children.) and trips to her house to see how far the builders had got on with the repairs.

As time went on, I got dragged (willingly) to the children's school events. I really got into Jacob and Miranda's after-school activities. The reaction of the teachers was interesting; some of them had taught my own children and they obviously were aware of their deaths. I know one slipped up quite badly one day when talking about Miranda he referred to her by my daughter's name. He was quite embarrassed when Miranda corrected him. I mention this because it was never a mistake that I made. Although sometimes in my dreams the children would, not so much become mixed up, but sort of merge into each other.

As my relationship with the children got closer and closer, my relationship with Sheila stayed the same. We sort of kept each other at arm's length. Although many evenings I found myself watching her out of the corner of my eye, come on, she was an attractive woman, and it could be that sometimes I got the feeling that she was watching me.

During the summer I took them all on a camping holiday to Wales. It was something that Sheila and the children hadn't done before. I let them use the frame tent whilst I used my old hike tent. Once they got into it - living without all modern conveniences does take some getting used to - they really enjoyed themselves and we had a couple of more weekends away before the summer was over.

Late summer found us - or rather Sheila - picking out paint colours, furniture, floor coverings and things for her house. I drove her around as I had been doing since she'd moved in with me and she often asked my advice, not that I claim to be an expert.

October saw the house nearing completion and plans were made for them to move back in during the last week of the month. That was put back to early November because of problems with the central heating. And then quite suddenly I was in an empty house again.

I had known that the day was going to come, but that first evening that I came home from work to an empty house was a real killer for me. I looked around the place and walked straight back out again. I knew my destination was the Rose and Crown and as I walked up the street I began to wonder whether anyone had nicked my regular bar stool. I hadn't been near the place since the previous Christmas.

Although I was heading for the Rose and Crown, I somehow and without thinking or planning it, detoured past Sheila's house. Through the window I could see the children all sitting down to eat, Sheila was standing there talking on the telephone to someone. It did cross my mind to walk up that path and knock on the door, but somehow I couldn't bring myself to do so.

My stool was empty and George said, "Hi, Graham," and began to pull my pint as if I'd been in there yesterday.

"Ray!" I can remember saying to him. "Everybody calls me Ray nowadays."

"Whatever, makes no never-mind to me, Ray." George replied, and he carried on serving me.

I drank too much that evening, which I realised the moment I woke up in my bed the following morning. It was my hangover more than anything else that made me decide I wasn't going back to my old ways. Well, that was my intention, but the world is full of good intentions, isn't it?

The next two evenings I kicked around in the garage. I had this idea of turning it into a workshop. I was going to get myself a hobby, like woodworking or something. You know, then I'd have little projects to do in the evenings and on weekends. The next night a neighbour invited me over for dinner. Now lets be honest here, he was fiddling with his wife's car when I got home and out of desperation for something to do I went over to offer him a hand.

In gratitude his wife asked me to stay for a meal. I can't say I realised what was happening for the next week or so. But several neighbours would ask me to join them for a meal in the evening. Looking back now I can see that it was all planned. Just by chance the husband or wife would be out in the street when I got home from work and they would start chatting. The next thing I knew, I'd be sitting down to eat with them.

Often the subject of Sheila and the children would come up. But I could only tell them I hadn't seen them since they'd moved out. This normally brought strange expressions to the wives faces and embarrassing silences from the husbands.

I think it was the second or third weekend after Sheila had gone home that I ran into her and the children in the supermarket. Now let's be honest, I didn't run into them; the children ran into me and everybody in that bloody store knew about it. Before I knew what was happening, Yvette was sitting in my shopping trolley and the other two were hanging on my arms. Luckily the children were very vocal as Sheila and I didn't seem to know what to say to each other.

I took them over to MacDonald's for ice cream when Sheila and I had finished our shopping. Whilst the children played around Sheila told me about the teething problems she was having with the house. Nothing serious, just the kind of things you would expect.

Something made me invite them all back to my place for dinner that night. Just for a moment I thought Sheila hesitated, but the children made the decision for her. Now let's be fair, Sheila cooked the meal. Maybe that's why she'd hesitated - Sheila had sampled my cooking before.

That afternoon it was fun having the children over even though they spent most of the time playing with the neighbours children. I helped (or hindered; she never did say which) Sheila in the kitchen and we appeared to get on as we had whilst she was staying with me. That is until she asked me to call the children in and get them washed up.

Unfortunately we both tried to cross the kitchen at the same time and kind of collided, near the back door. Sheila lost her balance and I grabbed her to stop her falling. Just for a moment I was holding her in my arms and then we were both saying, "I'm sorry," repeatedly to each other, then we disentangled ourselves and retreated into our shells, embarrassed.

Dinner that evening was spent listening to the excited children tell us about their day with their friends. Once the washing up was done, I drove the family home. There was talk of them coming over again and of me going to have a meal with them. But no actual date was set.

My car was left parked in the Rose and Crown's car park that night. I was too drunk to drive it home. On the Sunday after I'd slept the drink off, I went back to the pub to retrieve it, and it spent another night parked there. Look, I just didn't want to go back to that empty house until I had to. Or I was so drunk I didn't notice the silence.

On the Monday morning, I didn't go to work. I went to the estate agent to put my house on the market. I had no idea where I was going to live, but I knew couldn't live in that empty house any more. To lose one family from it was bad enough, but losing a second was just too much for me.

I moved out of the house, although I left it furnished until after it was sold. The Agents told me it's easier to sell a house when it's furnished. I moved into a small residential hotel near where I worked. It was quite pleasant, but I can't say I made many friends amongst the other residents. I had for sometime been reverting to the miserable old fart I'd been a year previous.

I received summonses through the mail to attend Sheila's children's Christmas plays and concerts at their school. I sat with Sheila through all of them and I found it a little uncomfortable as the seats were jammed in quite tightly. Actual physical contact between Sheila and I was almost impossible to avoid. I knew Sheila did not like it, because I could feel her stiffen when I came into contact with her.

Again my going to their house for dinner one evening was discussed, but once again I somehow managed to avoid making a firm date. The children asked me if I was going to join them on Christmas day and I know they were upset when I told them that regretfully I had other plans. I gave them some bullshit about visiting my sister on the south coast. I'm not sure Sheila bought the story, but I think the children did.

I spent a lot of time choosing Christmas presents for Sheila and her children and arranged with a local courier company to have them delivered to her house on Christmas day. Expensive, but I thought worth it for the surprise value.

The night before Christmas Eve, I found myself drawn to the Rose and Crown again. Strangely it wasn't quite as crowded as it had been the year before. Different night of the week I suppose.

It must have been around ten-ish when suddenly a voice asked. "Any happier this year, Ray?"

I turned to see the old man sitting on the stool beside me.

"Oh, its you again. Where did you spring from?" I asked in surprise. I hadn't noticed him enter the pub, or buy the drink he was holding from George. But then again I was probably in my own little world again.

"I'm always about somewhere, Ray. It's just that you don't see me."

Jesus, sounded to me like the old boy had drunk too much already.

"What are you having?" I asked signalling to George to refill my glass. But the old guy just waved his hand to say he didn't want another at the moment.

George came over with my new pint and then stood there for a while with a strange look on his face.

"This one's on me, Ray, and I think you should make it your last for tonight," he said, waving away my proffered fiver.

I can't say I took much notice of what George said, as there were a few questions I had for the old man.

"Look, where did you get to that night of the fire?" I asked him. "When I came out of that house you were nowhere to be seen."

"I was busy, Ray. Before I passed, er...." The old man stopped speaking for a few seconds, as if he was thinking what to say. "Before I retired I was a paediatrician. I was in the ambulance helping the paramedics with the children. By the time I came out you were gone."

"But my telephone - how did you get that back to me?"

"I gave it to a policeman. You know you didn't look too good when you came out of that house. I assume he must have given it to you or put it in your pocket."

Well, I have to admit that could have been how I got the phone back. I couldn't exactly recall what happened or what was said when the police officer came over and asked everyone to move further away from the fire.

"You went to the hospital the next day," I said still trying to get my head around this old man and his actions.

"Of course I did. I wanted to see how the children were recovering. You know that was very fortunate timing the night of the fire. Just a couple of minutes later and there would have been a disaster."

"But you gave Sheila my phone number, how did you know that or my name?"

"From your mobile phone, Ray. You have your name and the number on a label on the back."

That was a fact, I was using a company mobile and as they are all the same, we have labels on them to say whose is whose when they're laying around in the office.

Whilst I drank my pint, I kept asking the old boy questions that he came up with reasonable answers for. But there was something about the old boy that didn't add up in my mind.

"So, Ray, are you spending Christmas with Sheila and the children?" he suddenly asked.

"No, I didn't think that was a good idea," I replied.

"And why ever not?" he demanded with a shocked tone to his voice.

"Because."

"Because what? Come on out with it. Those children are going to miss seeing you."

"Because of Sheila." I looked around to see if anyone was within earshot. George was serving another customer at the far end of the bar, but no one else was standing very close. "I think I've fallen in love with her."

"And that's a good reason for not spending Christmas with her. I'd have thought that was a damned good reason too spend time with her and her family."

"But she doesn't feel the same way about me."

"What the hell gives you that idea?"

"Well, I did something really stupid. Damn, I can't understand why I'm telling you this?"

"Perhaps you need to. Now come on out with it," the old boy said.

"New Year's Eve last year. She had only been in my house a couple of days and I'm ashamed to say I kind of over-stepped the mark. I think I upset her."