Doris sat next to the phone waiting. Her son James had left after a fearful row fifteen years ago. She could barely recall how the it had started but some terrible things had been said and James packed a bag and walked out.


She had noticed her son’s name in the paper yesterday. It wasn’t a large article more of ‘news in brief’. A man had been arrested for burglary and attempted murder. She kept the information from Denis who rarely read the papers; he was too busy working the farm.

The shrill tone of the phone broke the silence of the house. She grabbed the receiver and heard the unmistakeable voice.

‘James?’

‘Mum I need your help.’

Doris said nothing she knew he was in trouble.

‘Mum? Are you still there?’ he gasped.

‘Are you coming home?’

‘I need a place for a few days. Can I come and stay? Don’t tell Dad.’

‘But he’ll know if you’re in the house.’

‘I’ll hide in one of the out houses. I’ll be with you mid afternoon. I’ll meet you down by the copse.’ The phone went dead.

Doris began to busy herself for the rest of the morning getting James’room ready. She hadn’t fully understood why he couldn’t stay in the house. He could give back the money he had stolen and say sorry to the man he nearly killed and everything would be fine. Things would be back to normal. She would have her family back again under one roof. She heard Denis in the yard and was about to tell him the good news but decided to wait.

‘Not moping around?’ shouted Denis as he entered the kitchen.

‘I never mope around,’ protested Doris.

‘You’ve been like that for years ever since that no-good-son of yours left home.’

‘He’s yours as well.’

Denis shook his head. There was no point speaking to her these days. She had some form of dementia so it was best to humour her. Something had perked her up, he rarely saw her busy in the kitchen.

‘Someone coming for tea?’

‘Yes.’

‘Who?’

‘Can’t say,’ she said beaming at him. Denis wasn’t prepared to play games he went back outside.

Later Doris made her way down to the copse with a basket of scones and a flask of tea. She waited for James. It began to get dark but still she waited. Voices were heard coming over the top field. A beam fell directly in her eyes.

‘Doris! There you are!’ said Denis. He wrapped a coat around her and led her back across the field towards the house. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

‘James,’ was all she could mutter, ‘James.’

‘I’m sorry Doris, James was arrested this afternoon near the village. He had been on the run for several days. It was in the papers but I didn’t want to worry you.’

‘He phoned,’ she whimpered, ‘He phoned and he was coming home.’