by Dan Scottow
Beth perched on the edge of a cushion, her unease filling her mind like a storm cloud, growing with every second she was forced to wait.
The sound of stilettos clicking on the polished wooden floor drew Beth’s attention down the corridor. Chloe was marching towards her, wearing a bright-red trouser suit, with a white blouse underneath. She didn’t smile. No warm greeting.
‘Beth, come down to my office.’
Beth stood, following Chloe. As she passed the floor-to-ceiling glass panels that separated the main office, she noticed people watching her. She saw Vicky, leaning on the edge of her desk, twiddling with her greasy hair. She smiled, but didn’t wave.
It was definitely not a friendly smile. It was smug. Victorious.
Beth looked away, entering Chloe’s office.
‘Close the door.’ Chloe’s tone was off, terse.
Beth did as she was told. Chloe sat behind her computer. Beth approached the chair on the other side.
‘No, don’t sit. This won’t take long,’ Chloe barked.
‘What’s going on, Chloe? Is everything okay?’ Beth suspected she already knew, but she had to play the game.
‘No, Beth. Or should I call you Kitty? Which would you prefer?’
Beth’s face flushed, but she didn’t look away.
‘You heard then,’ Beth said. A statement rather than a question.
‘Of course I heard. The whole bloody company has heard. Christ, it’s been all over the socials. I’d be surprised if there’s anyone in the country who doesn’t know.’
‘Chloe let me explain–’
‘No. You let me explain. I won’t waste either of our time here. Your services with us are no longer required, with immediate effect. You can collect your belongings if you want, or I can have them mailed to you if you would prefer.’
Beth clenched her jaw.
‘Excuse me?’
‘You heard. You’re fired. I want you off the premises. Leave your pass with Lola on the way out.’
‘But… you can’t do that! You have no grounds.’
‘I think you’ll find I can.’ She picked a pile of papers up from her desk.
‘I have here your application form, along with the details you submitted to Human Resources on your first day.’
Chloe slid the documents towards Beth.
‘That is your signature, is it not?’
Beth nodded.
‘And there, in the top left-hand corner of your contract, what does that say?’ Chloe pointed an immaculately-manicured, glossy scarlet nail at Beth’s name, tapping it twice. The sound seemed to echo around the room.
‘It says Beth Carter.’
‘Yes. And is your name not in fact Kitty Carter?’
‘No, I–’
‘There is no record of you legally changing it. I had Margot check.’
‘No, I… I didn’t.’
‘So you lied. When you applied for this job, you lied about who you are.’
‘No–’
‘You lied, Beth. And therefore the contract is null and void. You fraudulently gained employment at my company using a false identity.’
Chloe picked the papers up, tossing them across the desk at Beth. They scattered to the carpet around her feet.
‘This isn’t fair!’ Beth shouted. ‘I’ve given you everything. I have gone above and beyond time and again, cancelled holidays, put you first over my family. I have bent over backwards to be a model employee and help you make money! And this is how you repay me? Look at me, Chloe. I’m your friend. It’s me!’
Beth placed her hands on Chloe’s desk, staring straight into her eyes.
Chloe cleared her throat.
‘We are a family company. We have a reputation to uphold. I can’t risk it getting out that… you work for us. Now I suggest you get out of my office, before I have you thrown out.’
Beth turned, storming out of the room. She marched down the corridor. As she reached the top of the stairs, Lola bounced up from behind her desk.
‘Er, your pass!’ she yelled irritably, with the assumed authority that only a receptionist can believe herself to hold.
Beth ignored her, carried on walking, blocking out the shouts of protest.
She ran down the spiral staircase and exited the building, slamming the door hard behind her. She turned, kicking it, much to the bewilderment of the passing tourists.
‘Fuck you!’ she screamed at the building.
She turned and hurried down the lane, her eyes stinging.
‘Beth!’
A voice called after her. She ignored it, carried on walking. A hand suddenly gripped her shoulder, spinning her around. Margot stood in front of her. Beth couldn’t read her expression.
She stared, ready for the insults.
Instead, Margot grabbed her, pulling her into a hug. The familiar scent of Margot’s perfume filled Beth’s nostrils, and she relaxed into the embrace.
‘Are you okay?’ Margot asked.
Beth shrugged.
‘I can’t quite… I mean, I don’t really know what to say.’ It was rare for Margot to be lost for words.
‘I’m sorry, Margot, I really am.’
Margot pursed her lips.
‘You’ve nothing to apologise to me for. I’ll be honest, I did wonder after you told me what was going on the other night, but it was a shock. But, darling, come on, it was a long time ago. I am here for you, no matter what.’
Beth nodded.
‘Chloe fired me.’
‘I know. I’m sorry. She made me look into your contract, I had no choice. My hands were tied. I’ve got to get back, but don’t worry. You’ll get through this. If you need any legal advice, you can call me, any time. Okay?’
Margot hugged her again, then turned and tottered off back down the alley towards the office.
Beth sighed. She’d half expected this. It had been such a long time since it had happened that she’d almost forgotten how much it hurt.
The rejection. The vitriol. Friends turning their backs on you. Disowning you. These things had made Beth the woman she was today. Whether or not that was a good thing, she wasn’t sure.
As the smell of Margot’s perfume dissipated, Beth made a decision. She had to pay someone a visit. Someone she hadn’t seen for a long time. She pulled her phone from her bag and typed the name into a search engine.
She was easy enough to find.
48
She still resided in Birmingham. Surprisingly, the same area. Perhaps she cherished the memories? She lived in a bigger house now, a nicer street. But she hadn’t moved far in over thirty years, compared to how much Beth’s life had changed in that time; the distance she had come.
Finding her general location had been the straightforward part. Getting an address had proven trickier. It had taken a few phone calls, and a fair bit of cash, but Beth had eventually found what she was looking for. She’d been so bloody-minded when she decided to do this. But now, sitting outside the house, Beth wasn’t feeling quite so brave.
She deliberated for well over an hour, and on more than one occasion she nearly started the engine and drove away. But the time had come. Beth finally had to face her demons, whether she liked it or not.
She locked her car, and slowly forced herself through the gate, and along the path. As she approached the door, a mixture of feelings swam around her head.
Trepidation.
Sorrow.
Feeling a knot in the pit of her stomach as she got closer, she was unsure when she last felt so nervous.
The garden was immaculate. The lawn mowed neatly in wide stripes. An abundance of rose bushes lined the perimeter, the blooms now past their best, but still pretty. Their perfume filled the air, reminding Beth of her mother. Smiling sadly, she reached the front door, resisting the urge to run away. Suddenly feeling seven years old again. She wanted to vomit but held it back. She had known this would be difficult, but she hadn’t prepared herself fully for it.
Now or never.
Wendy Noakes had hardly changed at all.
She looked older, yes. But Beth recognised her straight away. She saw a flash in the woman’s eyes and wondered if Wendy knew her too. Beth had picked up a cheap pair of thick-framed reading glasses and scraped her hair up into a tight bun. She hoped this was enough of a disguise. She was about to find out.
‘Mrs Noakes?’
The woman stared at Beth blankly without replying.
‘Wendy Noakes?’
‘Yes.’
Beth flashed her staff lanyard, not giving her time to see it properly.
‘My name is Celia Walsh. I’m from the council. May I come in, please?’
The Birmingham accent she had tried so hard to get rid of over the years, came easily back to her.
Wendy Noakes frowned.
‘What’s this about?’
Beth had found several social media posts from Wendy, voicing pejorative opinions about bin collections, or lack of. Beth was clutching at straws, but she needed something to convince Wendy she was there in an official capacity, just long enough to get inside.
‘I understand you’ve been having some issues with your bins not being emptied?’
Wendy paused, narrowing her eyes.
‘Yes, but–’
‘We take these complaints extremely seriously, Mrs Noakes. I’d like to get some information for my investigation.’
‘The bloke I spoke to on the phone didn’t seem to give a toss.’
‘He passed your complaint on to me, and I have decided to investigate further. The last thing we want is vermin infesting the streets. Wouldn’t you agree?’
‘No, quite. You’d better come in.’
She stood to one side, allowing Beth to step in.
Tastefully decorated. Neutral, but clean and bright. An overpowering floral air freshener assaulted Beth’s nostrils as she entered the house. A stark contrast to the scent of the roses from the garden.
Wendy Noakes traversed the hallway into a large open-plan kitchen.
‘Would you like a cuppa?’
‘Yes please, that would be wonderful.’
She busied herself opening cupboards, pulling out mugs and a jar of coffee.
Beth glanced around the room. To her left, beside the door she had entered through, was an old-fashioned Welsh dresser overcrowded with photographs.
Centre stage, in an opulent white frame, adorned with flowers, was a picture of Billy. Beth blinked, wanting to shut the image out.
It can’t have been taken long before his… death. She couldn’t bear to look at it.
Wendy handed Beth a cup of coffee, then sat in a wicker rocking chair in the corner. A small ginger cat hopped up onto her lap and began to purr loudly as it arched its back, rubbing itself against Wendy’s hand. She stroked it softly, looking at Beth.
‘Would you like to sit?’ Wendy motioned towards a small sofa a few feet away. Beth nodded, lowering herself onto the plush cushions, pulling a notepad from her handbag for authenticity.
She wasn’t ready to come clean. Not yet.
‘So I take it this problem has been ongoing for a while now?’ Beth asked nervously, feeling ridiculous as the words came out of her mouth.
Wendy stared at her coolly. The cat continued to purr, and for a while it was the only sound in the room. Other than Beth’s heart pounding.
‘You can cut the charade,’ Wendy finally said.
Beth looked up from her pad.
‘I know who you are. I knew it the moment I opened the door. I wanted to see how far you’d take it.’
Beth sat silently, looking at the woman. Her face full of sadness. Beth hadn’t noticed it at first, too nervous about being recognised. But now, as she really took time to see her, it was obvious.
She had lived a life of pain.
‘What name do you go by these days?’ Wendy asked.
‘Beth.’
‘A nice name. And why are you here, Beth?’
‘I… I felt that it was time.’
Wendy let out a slight laugh. ‘Why now?’
‘It’s not that I haven’t wanted to before. I think of you often. Every day, in fact.’
No reply.
‘I guess I want to say I’m sorry. For what happened. For… everything.’
‘Is that for your benefit or mine?’
Beth looked away.
‘I think I owe it to you.’
‘And what would you like from me in return? Forgiveness?’
Beth didn’t answer.
‘Is that why you’ve come here? To clear your conscience? I know you were very young. You’ve had an entire lifetime to reflect on what you did. You might not have understood then, that’s debatable, but you certainly understand now, I’m sure.’
Beth tried to avert her eyes from the photo of Billy, but kept flicking back to it.
‘Beautiful, wasn’t he?’ Wendy stood from the chair, the cat scurrying out into the hall, and up the stairs. She crossed the room, picking up the frame. She walked to Beth and turned it around to face her. Beth looked away.
‘Look at him!’ Wendy said firmly.
Beth reluctantly obeyed. The face beamed out at her, eyes full of life and happiness. It broke her heart.
‘It wasn’t only Billy who lost his life that day. What you did, you and Kieran Taylor, you destroyed so many lives. You might not have put a hand to him, but you were as complicit in my mind. My husband and I tried to make things work. To raise our new child together, as best we could, but it wasn’t to be. It’s hard to recover from… something like that.’
Beth looked up into Wendy’s wide, red-ringed eyes.
‘You had another baby?’
‘Oh yes. I was already pregnant the night you took him. It was only very early days, so we hadn’t told anyone. But Billy knew he was going to have a little sibling. He was so excited.’
Wendy’s voice was laced with melancholy, so thick, so strong; it was heartbreaking. She returned the photograph to the dresser, and stood staring at it for a while, her face hidden from Beth.
‘But thanks to you my son had to grow up without his big brother.’
Wendy sat back down in the wicker chair, placing her hands on her lap.
‘Doug, my husband, he suffered a great deal. Blamed himself. He stayed at home that night watching sport. Convinced himself if he’d been at the fair with us Billy would never have been snatched. I suppose he’s probably right. The chances we would have both taken our eyes off him…’ She trailed off, looking out into the garden towards a solitary yellow rose bush in the middle of an immaculate lawn.
‘That’s Billy’s. I planted it for him not long after I moved in here. I talk to him all the time, you know. Every day. I tell him how sorry I am. Doug, we lost him to suicide about ten years ago. But we lost him to drink long before that. He was never the same. I couldn’t blame him though. How could I? I spent so long thinking it was me. My fault. Because I took my eye off him. I let go of his little hand. So many what ifs. What if I’d held on to him? What if that stupid cow from school hadn’t distracted me?’
She stopped herself. As if she wanted to say more but wouldn’t allow herself. Beth stood up, taking a step towards Wendy’s chair.
‘Have you got children?’ Wendy asked from nowhere.
Beth thought of her beautiful family, averting Wendy’s stare.
‘Yes. I have a son and a daughter.’
All the colour drained from Wendy’s face. Her eyes glazed over. She seemed to be looking at Beth, but… not. She started to talk again, but Beth felt that she wasn’t really talking to her.
‘They are precious. You know that of course. You never actually understand how much until… until they’re gone. You look away for a second. You make a stupid mistake… I made a mistake. There is evil lurking everywhere. Sometimes the most nefarious forces can hide be
neath a pretty exterior.’ She looked directly at Beth, straight into her eyes.
‘You assume that other people are good, that they are all kind, like you were raised to be. But they’re not. And that is the fatal misjudgement that people make.’
‘Wendy, please. You mustn’t blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault.’
Wendy rose suddenly from her chair.
‘No, of course it wasn’t. It was yours!’ she scolded, her voice growing louder.
‘How dare you come into my house after all this time and tell me it wasn’t my fault. Who do you think you are?’ She was getting agitated. Angry.
Wendy stepped towards Beth, jabbing a bony finger painfully into Beth’s sternum.
‘Did you assume I would absolve you? Is that what you hoped for?’
‘No, I thought–’
‘Shut up! You’ve said enough. Now it’s my turn. I don’t. I know I’m probably supposed to, but I don’t forgive you. I will never…’ She began to sob uncontrollably, her chest, her whole body convulsing.
‘Perhaps I should leave.’ Beth pivoted, and Wendy shoved her from behind.
‘I think you’re right. Go on, get out of my house!’
As Wendy jostled Beth towards the door, her gaze drifted one last time to Billy. But something else caught her attention. She’d been so distracted by the image of Billy that she hadn’t noticed it before. She stopped, planted herself firmly to the spot. Reached her hand out, plucking up the small silver-framed photo from the back of the dresser.
‘What are you doing? Put that down right now!’ Wendy shouted.
Beth stared in horror at the object in her hands.
‘Mrs Noakes… who is this?’
She pointed her finger at the man in the photo.
‘That’s my son. That’s Michael.’
Beth swallowed hard.
Michael Noakes.
Or Mikey, as Beth knew him.
49
Beth sat in her car. Not ready to drive. Her head spinning. She felt numb.
She didn’t know exactly what she had expected from Wendy Noakes. Beth tried to imagine how she would feel if it had been Daisy. If someone had… taken her.