by Dan Scottow
Silence.
Descending the stairs, he rounded the corner into the kitchen, where he found his wife in darkness, gazing out through the patio windows.
‘What are you doing?’ Charlie asked.
Beth didn’t turn around. She continued to stare.
‘Beth, are you okay?’
Charlie crossed the kitchen to his wife’s side. She looked at him as if in a daze.
‘Beth?’
‘Sorry, love, I was daydreaming there.’
‘You coming up to bed?’
‘Yep,’ she replied. And then she did something strange. She drew the curtains.
In seven years living in the farmhouse, Charlie had never seen Beth do this. There was no need. They lived in the middle of nowhere with a long driveway. A dense hedge and tall trees shielded their property from the road. Few people came out this way unless visiting the family. Charlie frowned again and watched with slight bewilderment as his wife meandered through the entire ground floor of the property closing every blind and curtain. She blocked out all the windows before heading up the stairs.
2
Bacon and coffee.
The smells filled the house as Charlie cooked breakfast in the Saturday morning sunlight.
He looked up as Beth appeared in the kitchen doorway. She hadn’t slept much last night. Charlie heard her up a few times to go to the toilet. She wasn’t looking her best now.
‘Look what the cat dragged in,’ Charlie joked as Beth stood in the doorway. He motioned with his head towards their sixteen-year-old son sitting at the island unit, his elbows on the worktop, and his thumbs jabbing away frantically at his phone.
‘Hello, love,’ Beth said, stifling a yawn. ‘Good party?’
‘Was all right,’ he mumbled without looking at her.
The bacon sizzled in a pan on the hob. Cooper sat at Charlie’s feet waiting for something to fall.
‘Hungry?’ Charlie asked, pouring Beth a cup of coffee and sliding it across the counter towards her.
‘A little,’ she replied. But Charlie thought she looked like she wanted to vomit.
‘You were tossing most of the night so I thought I’d let you sleep.’
‘Thanks,’ Beth replied, turning to her son. ‘Zoe not here?’ she asked.
‘Obviously not,’ he retorted, still not glancing up from his phone, already mastering the art of sarcasm. He was his father’s son in that respect.
‘You two okay?’ Beth questioned.
‘Yeah, Mum, we’re fine. We’re not joined at the hip. She’s got this thing with her parents today. She’s coming over later.’
‘Good,’ Beth replied. Charlie and Beth liked their son’s girlfriend.
Peter was a likeable boy, as far as teenagers go. The being permanently glued to his phone, and usually not being able to hold a conversation of over three words with his parents aside, he was a nice lad. Not a dick. No parent really knows what their child is like. But Zoe seemed pleasant enough. She didn’t have those ridiculous painted-on eyebrows for a start, and that, in Charlie’s books, gave her an immense head start over most girls her age. He failed to understand the thing with teenaged girls and eyebrows. But also, unlike their son, Zoe was always happy to chat to them, and she was a nice girl. And nice girls don’t date total dicks. So Charlie was pretty sure that his son was okay. Some of his friends not so much. But you can’t choose them any more than you can choose your kids.
Charlie shovelled the breakfast onto a plate, plonking it down with a clatter in front of Beth, who sat beside her son. Picking up a fork, she began to push food around the plate, unable to bring herself to eat it. She speared a small button mushroom from the edge of the dish. As she lifted it, a drop of fat ran from its edge and dripped onto the scrambled eggs below. Again, Beth looked like she might vomit. She placed the fork back on her plate, opting for a mouthful of coffee instead.
‘The note wasn’t Peter,’ Charlie said, suddenly.
Beth froze, her mug halfway to her mouth.
‘I can’t believe you thought I’d actually have anything to do with some weird note through the door.’
Daisy skipped across the kitchen from where she had been sitting on the floor talking to Cooper.
‘What note?’ she asked inquisitively.
Charlie looked at Beth. She shook her head.
‘Never you mind!’ she said playfully, giving her daughter a fake punch on the shoulder.
Peter slammed his phone onto the worktop with an exaggerated, overdramatic sigh.
‘Careful, Pete! If you break that screen again you’ll be paying for it yourself this time!’ Charlie shouted.
‘Yeah, yeah. Whatever,’ he grumbled, almost unintelligibly. ‘Anyway, why would my mates put a note through the door saying, found you? That’s just weird,’ Peter continued.
‘Peter, can we not.’ Beth rolled her eyes towards Daisy.
Daisy climbed up on a stool opposite her brother and leaned on her fists with her bony elbows on the worktop. ‘What note?’ she shouted.
‘I said never you mind, nosey!’
Beth shovelled a forkful of scrambled egg into her mouth. She chewed, but didn’t swallow. She gulped a mouthful of hot coffee, washing down the food, then slid her plate away from her, placing her fork on the counter. Charlie eyed her curiously, and then the plate, a mock sad expression on his face. He stuck out his bottom lip in protest, folding his arms across his chest.
‘Oi!’
‘Sorry. I’ve… lost my appetite.’
Beth shot her husband a weak smile.
Charlie picked up the plate. ‘Suit yourself.’
He offered the food to Peter, who shook his head, pushing it away.
‘Why do I bother?’ Charlie crossed the kitchen, bending over and scraping the food into Cooper’s red plastic bowl by the back door. Cooper scurried over to it, gobbling up the bacon and eggs.
‘I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me, buddy.’
Charlie crouched, stroking the spaniel on his head. Cooper wagged his tail and trotted off to his bed in the corner.
Peter slid off his stool and strolled to the fridge. He opened it, taking a bottle of lemonade out, before removing the lid and gulping it straight down.
‘Oi! Glass!’ Charlie shouted.
Peter burped, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Why were the curtains drawn this morning when I got home?’ he asked from across the kitchen.
Charlie looked towards his wife. All eyes in the room were on Beth
‘Because I wanted them shut,’ Beth replied, rather unconvincingly.
Charlie frowned. Something about Beth’s behaviour was off.
‘So weird,’ Peter said, shaking his head. ‘I’m going to bed. I’m knackered.’
He sauntered out of the kitchen and up the stairs, dropping his denim jacket on the hall floor at the bottom. An aroma of stale beer and cigarettes followed behind him as he left. Beth stood up, picking up the jacket from the floor, and opened the cupboard. She hung the coat up on the rail inside.
‘He’s been smoking.’
‘He’s sixteen,’ Charlie replied. ‘Didn’t you ever do anything wrong when you were a teenager?’
Beth shrugged and walked to the sink, filling her mug with water. Draining the cup, she filled it again, sitting on a stool at the island.
Charlie pulled at the doors, opening up the kitchen to the patio. Daisy skipped outside, followed by an excited spaniel. She picked up a tennis ball and threw it into the field beyond the garden. Cooper chased after it, bounding over the low fence and out after the ball.
‘What the hell was that about?’ Charlie asked as soon as Daisy was out of earshot.
‘What?’
‘The curtains. We never draw the curtains. There’s nobody around for miles. Why would you close them? Are you okay?’ Charlie sat down on the stool beside Beth.
‘I thought it was a bit strange, that was all. Somebody had obviously been at the house to put that note through th
e door. I was worried they might be out there. I didn’t like the idea of them looking at us. It gave me the creeps. That’s all.’
Charlie wrapped his muscular arm around Beth’s shoulder, and pulled her to his chest.
‘Come here you wally,’ he said with a laugh. ‘It’s like you thought last night. Probably someone having a laugh.’
‘Yeah, you’re probably right. I spooked myself. And then Cooper was growling. I felt… strange.’
‘That’s fair enough. It is odd, us getting a visitor at that time, I admit. But I really don’t think it’s anything to worry about.’
Charlie hopped up, grabbing his car keys from a bowl on the kitchen counter. He crossed to the hall cupboard and opened it, taking out his leather jacket, sliding it on.
‘Right,’ he said chirpily, ‘I’m off to work. You going to be okay?’
Beth hugged her husband. ‘Yeah. I’ll be fine. I wish you weren’t working on a Saturday though.’
‘It’s only for a few hours. I’ll be back after lunch. I’ve got to tie a couple of things up at the office before Monday.’
He kissed her and walked towards the front door. Without another look he was away.
Daisy was playing with Cooper in the garden; aside from that the house was quiet. Beth headed upstairs for a shower.
* * *
Peter lay on his bed in a pair of grubby white Calvin Klein pants. Unable to get to sleep, he listened to the sound of the shower running from his parent’s en suite. A few minutes later the noise of footsteps padding down the stairs. He jumped up, opening the door and hurrying out onto the landing. ‘Are you going out, Mum?’ he shouted.
‘Yeah, I’m popping into town for a bit,’ Beth replied.
‘Can you hold on? I’ll grab a lift with you. Just need to throw some clothes on.’
He hurried back into his room, without waiting for a reply, pulling on a plain, black T-shirt, and a pair of baggy jeans with large rips in both knees. He rushed down the stairs into the kitchen.
‘Have you had a shower?’ Beth nagged, sniffing her son as he passed her.
‘Nah, don’t need one,’ he replied, heading out of the front door.
Beth shook her head, following behind him.
They drove into town with Daisy and Peter arguing for most of the thirty-minute journey. Beth pulled up in a parking bay and the kids jumped out onto the pavement.
‘How long you going to be, Mum? I’ve got to pop to the record shop. There’s some new vinyl I want.’
‘Don’t know, Peter, call me when you’re done.’ She pulled her phone out of her bag, checking her battery.
‘Can I go with Peter?’ Daisy asked.
‘No!’ Peter protested. Beth shot him a scolding look.
‘Please, Petey?’ Daisy’s tone indicated a tantrum was imminent. Beth mouthed please to her son.
‘Fine,’ Peter said sulkily.
‘Don’t let her out of your sight,’ Beth shouted as the kids walked away from her. She watched them turn the corner, then she sighed and glanced around. Town was busy. Saturday morning shoppers lined the streets, and Beth felt a little more relaxed.
She’d felt a sudden need to be around people. She didn’t need anything in town. It was just nice to be out of the house.
She crossed the street and headed into a small coffee shop. As she was standing staring blankly at the menu, someone tapped her on the shoulder.
Beth pivoted, still a little on edge, and found herself looking up at a tall woman.
‘Margot! Hello,’ Beth said, relieved to see someone she recognised. Margot was a lawyer at the small publishers in town where Beth worked. Crossing paths most days, she was probably as close to a friend as Beth had.
Margot was in her early-forties, at a guess, about five feet eleven and eternally stylish. She had deep auburn hair, dyed, Beth had always assumed, but impeccably styled. Being single and having no children, she had all her money to spend on herself. And money was something she had in abundance. She was independently wealthy from a successful career in law, but as Beth understood it, when Margot’s husband found out that she couldn’t conceive children, he had left her. And Margot had taken him to the cleaners. This morning Margot was wearing an ankle-length cashmere jumper dress, in varying shades of blue. She had a white silk scarf with royal-blue doves printed on it, draped over her shoulders, and an enormous pair of designer sunglasses covering her eyes. Reddish-brown hair fell in loose curls around her shoulders. She pulled the glasses off, revealing her expertly applied make-up, and gave Beth a tight smile.
‘Beth, hi!’ she said, with a loud air-kiss on each cheek. ‘What a surprise! It’s so lovely to see a friendly face, darling! I absolutely abhor these Saturday morning shoppers. Try to avoid them whenever I can but needs must.’ Margot’s perfect received pronunciation stank of an exceedingly expensive education. When she had first started at Greys a few years earlier, Beth had been terrified of her. But the first time they’d chatted, side by side at a mirror in the toilets, they had clicked. Margot had been touching up her flawless make-up. Beth had been fiddling with her hair, tucking it behind her ears, then tying it back in a loose ponytail. Margot had given her a sideways look in the mirror and said, ‘You should wear it down. It’s fabulous,’ before offering Beth her Christian Louboutin lipstick to try.
Margot had spent the majority of her career in London, working in family law. She also devoted most of her free time and a lot of her money volunteering with underprivileged children. She had once claimed rather flippantly to Beth that as she couldn’t have any of the little buggers herself, she thought she would help the ones that other people didn’t want.
‘How are you? I didn’t see you at work this week, were you off?’ Beth asked, still half reading the coffee-shop menu on the wall behind the counter.
‘Indeed I was, my dear. Helping out with some kids. They needed a chaperone on a camping trip, so I thought what the hell, why not?’
Beth smiled briefly at the idea of Margot camping but refrained from commenting.
A young lad turned to Beth from behind the till. Camp was an understatement. Tall, and slim, wearing far too much make-up; she couldn’t help thinking he could do with some lessons from Margot on how to apply it properly.
‘What can I get you?’ he asked.
With one last glance up at the menu, Beth ordered a tall, skinny Americano. ‘And whatever she’s having.’ She motioned towards Margot.
‘Not at all, darling. These are on me. I’ll get a vanilla oat latte, please,’ she said.
‘Really, I’ll get these,’ Beth objected, taking out a crisp ten-pound note from her purse.
‘Put it away, darling, I insist.’ She gave Kyle, as his badge informed them was his name, a huge stage wink. The boy didn’t crack a smile. He stared at Margot, holding out his hand for the money.
She handed him some cash and turned to Beth, shaking her head. ‘Honestly, I don’t know what’s wrong with young people these days. No humour.’
Kyle handed them their drinks and they grabbed a table in the corner by the window.
As they sat down Margot smoothed out the creases from her dress. She saw Beth staring at her and smiled. ‘You like? It’s Prada, darling. I got it in Paris at fashion week.’
‘It’s beautiful. Really suits you,’ Beth said. Margot swatted her hand, with a smile on her face.
‘So…’ Beth started. ‘Camping?’ She raised an eyebrow.
‘It was an absolute bloody nightmare, darling! I tell you. If I ever think about doing anything like that again, you have my permission to slap me, please. You should have seen the lavatories. I didn’t urinate for five entire days.’
Beth laughed, pleased for the distraction. ‘What on earth were you thinking?’
Margot took a sip from her oat latte, then dabbed at the corner of her mouth with a paper napkin.
‘The trip was on the verge of being cancelled if they couldn’t find another chaperone. These kids, they don’t have good li
ves. It’s rare they look forward to anything. So to cancel something like this trip… for them it would be absolutely devastating. I couldn’t do that to them. As awful as it was… it was worth it to see them enjoying themselves.’
Beth took a sip from her own drink, slightly in awe of Margot. The woman was a machine. She worked long hours, sometimes seven days a week. When she wasn’t working, she seemed to be off somewhere helping out for some good cause or another. Beth felt so tired after her Monday to Friday, nine-to-five, that she could barely manage a conversation with her husband at the weekends, let alone keep her own children entertained.
Margot finished her coffee, then pulled a compact mirror from her small Chanel handbag. She opened the case and reapplied her lipstick, as quick as a flash. The edges perfect and precise. She snapped the mirror closed, popping it back in her bag.
‘Anyway, darling, I’ve got to go. I have an appointment with my accountant. Was lovely to see you though. Let’s do lunch one day this week. I’m back in the office on Monday.’ She stood up from her chair, and glided gracefully out of the coffee shop, leaving a trail of perfume in her wake.
Beth stared after her for a few moments. Two short beeps from her purse told her a text message had arrived. She pulled her mobile from the bag, glancing at the screen. It was from Peter.
At the car. Where are you?
Beth drained her mug of what was left of her drink and then left the café, making her way back towards the shops.
* * *
Peter stood leaning against his mother’s car. Two girls from school, Melissa and Jodie approached him, and started chatting.
‘Can’t believe the holidays are nearly finished,’ Jodie said, smiling at Peter, twiddling her hair. ‘Have you had a good summer?’
‘Yeah, it wasn’t bad,’ Peter replied nonchalantly, doing his best to sound mysterious and sexy. He saw his mother come around the corner on the high street and head towards the car, and he hoped to God that she wouldn’t embarrass him. As she got closer, he saw her expression change, and she picked up her pace a little.