Lucy's Book Club for the Lost and Found: A heartwarming feel good romance novel(14)

‘Would you like some help?’ he asked. ‘I’m not so good with anything technical these days, but cutting out I can manage.’

‘Are you sure you don’t mind? It’s a bit mind-numbing, I’m afraid.’

‘As is yesterday’s newspaper, unfortunately, so it would be a welcome release.’

Lucy smiled and handed over her scissors. ‘I’ll just go and fetch another pair.’

She returned to the table carrying a big pot of pencils as well. ‘There’s colouring-in too, if you want to go really wild.’

Oscar eyed the ice-cream container full of colours. ‘I’m not sure I can handle the responsibility, but I’ll have a go.’

‘Good man.’

They worked silently for several minutes before Oscar held up a picture in front of him. ‘So, I have a boat, a snail, and now a duck. Are we doing letters of the alphabet?’

Lucy looked up in surprise. ‘That’s very good,’ she said, ‘and very close. Actually, they’re letter sounds.’ She pointed at the boat. ‘That’s an oa sound… as in b-oa-t. This one’s an ai sound as in snail and the duck is actually for the sound of the qu letters in the word quack.’

Oscar looked bemused. ‘Is that what they teach children these days?’

‘A bit different from when you learned to read, I bet,’ replied Lucy. ‘Different from when I learned, too. It’s called phonics. The words are learned by the sound the letters make.’

‘And does it work?’ Oscar stared at the pictures in front of him.

Lucy grinned. ‘I have absolutely no idea,’ she said. ‘But it’s supposed to!’

‘Another government initiative, no doubt. When I taught my children to read they just learned by repetition, there was no other way.’

‘Did you have a large family, Oscar?’

He laughed. ‘You could say that,’ he replied. ‘Anywhere between nineteen to twenty-five of the little darlings.’

Lucy’s eyes widened. ‘Oh gosh, you were a teacher? I never knew that!’ she exclaimed.

‘I was the head, actually, but I still had my own class and taught them all day, every day. Though I don’t suppose we had quite so much paperwork back then.’

‘But where did you teach?’

‘Right here,’ smiled Oscar. ‘In the town, at St Michael’s.’

Lucy sat forward in her seat, never imagining for one minute that this was how their conversation would go. ‘But then you must know loads of folk who come in here. Blimey, I bet you taught half of them.’

‘A fair few, yes. A lot have moved on of course, families do, but there’s still some around… and now they have children of their own.’

‘That must be so weird… Rather nice though too, I’d imagine.’

Oscar put down the picture he was still holding. ‘Mostly,’ he said. ‘Some families are hard to forget, but sadly not always for the right reasons. It can be… painful sometimes to see history repeating itself.’

Oscar was staring out towards the door, and Lucy longed to turn around to see what he was looking at.

‘There’s that young lad Callum for a start, the one that comes to the book club. On the face of it he seems nice enough, but he’s a prime example. One of five kids, all of them wasting their lives. Not a single drop of initiative or aspiration between then. Quite content to while away their days, drinking and smoking, one dead-end job to another, or no job at all, which is often the case. I taught his dad, and every one of his four siblings; they were all the same.’

Lucy looked up, surprised. Callum had never appeared that way to her, and she was astonished to hear Oscar talk in such a fashion.

‘Some folks just don’t deserve to be parents,’ he finished.

Lucy looked back down at the paper and scissors she was holding. She didn’t feel she could quite meet Oscar’s eye, even though his voice was level and calm despite his cutting words. She knew how grumpy elderly people could be – too quick to judge the youth of today, always willing to think the worst – but Oscar was usually such a cheery soul, and seeing him now, in his dapper waistcoat and brightly coloured tie, it just didn’t make any sense.

‘Still, I bet you’re proud as anything of your own children?’

The minute the words left her mouth she regretted them. Oscar flinched and she saw the shadow of grief cross his face once again. She’d put her foot in it. He looked so distraught part of her wished she had kept to safer subjects, but she couldn’t help but feel that it would do Oscar some good to talk about how he was feeling. She’d only asked the question to see if she could get him to open up about his family.

Oscar sipped at his tea and then carefully put down his cup.

‘Forgive me, Lucy,’ he said. ‘I’ve become an old man, rather set in my ways and thoughts, I’m afraid; I spoke without thinking. I’m sure Callum’s a fine young man.’

Lucy blushed slightly, she hadn’t intended her comment to be a rebuke either.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—’

‘Everyone must live their lives how they see fit of course; that is after all what makes us all so wonderfully different from one another. I really mustn’t let my own bitterness be my judge in such matters.’ He smiled at Lucy. ‘And now you must think me awfully opinionated.’