Two-Hundred Steps Home Volume One

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Two-Hundred Steps Home Volume One Page 2

by Amanda Martin


  “Wining and dining on someone else’s credit card.” Ruth’s voice cut in.

  “There’s more to it than that,” Claire responded quickly. Then, before Ruth could start the age-old argument, Claire inhaled through her nose again and consciously lowered her voice. “Tell me the day you need me to have Sky, I’ll check my diary.”

  “Well, it’s two days, actually.” Ruth sounded embarrassed.

  As well she might. I don’t want to look after her brat for two hours, never mind two days.

  Claire had, thus far, avoided spending too much time with her niece, or with her two nephews Jack and Alex. Her brother and his wife lived in Geneva, so that was understandable. Ruth lived near their mother in Cambridgeshire, so her lack of involvement caused considerable friction. Kids just aren’t my thing.

  Thinking about minding a six-year-old for two days made bile rise in Claire’s throat. She gulped down her coffee and wondered if she could use the new assignment as an excuse. There was something in Ruth’s voice, though, that made her pause.

  “Can’t Mum take her? I thought Mum and Dad were the perfect grandparents?” It seemed odd to Claire that two people who had no time for their own children could go dotty over someone else’s, even if they were their grandkids. Maybe they were going soft in their old age.

  “Er, Mum’s coming with me, to the hospital.”

  Ruth’s words slithered into Claire’s brain, freezing where they made contact. “Just what tests are you having exactly?”

  “Weren’t you listening? I said you never listen to me, you and Robert, you’re both the same.”

  Claire almost smiled at the petulant tone in Ruth’s voice. For a moment they were twelve and fourteen again.

  “Sorry,” she admitted, saying nothing more.

  “The headaches, the ones causing spots in my vision. The doctor thinks it’s tiredness but they want to be sure. I’m having a CAT scan or an MRI or something, I don’t remember the details. I’m not clever like you. That’s why Mum’s coming.”

  Claire took the two steps from her kitchen to her lounge and sank into the white leather sofa. “CAT scan? Ruth, are you serious?”

  “Of course I am. I wouldn’t joke about something like that. So, will you take Sky? I don’t think Dad could cope with her for two days on his own. You can stay at my place or at Home, whichever is easier.”

  Claire rubbed a hand across her forehead, as if scrubbing away unwanted thoughts. “Of course I’ll come. Text me the dates. I should probably come home before I start my new assignment anyway, store some things in the attic...”

  She thought Ruth might ask her about the assignment, but she didn’t. After another ten minutes elaborating on her headaches and trips to the doctors she said that Sky was calling for her and hung up the phone.

  Claire slumped back into the sofa, cradling her iPhone in her lap. Darkness seemed to engulf the room. A gloom that had nothing to do with the rain hammering against the window pane.

  ***

  FIVE

  “So, you’re being pushed out then? I wouldn’t stand for that if I was you.” Steve grinned at Claire as the two of them sat in Starbucks with a stack of paperwork on the table in front of them.

  “I am not being pushed out, thank you very much. The Board want me to prove my loyalty, that’s all. I’m on the up.”

  “Bollocks. Whoever heard of a Company sending its top Account Director out of the office for a full year? You’ve got windmills in your head if you believe that rubbish. They’re hoping you’ll get sick of it and quit so they don’t have to pay you severance pay, you mark my words.”

  Claire glared at Steve as he voiced the concern that had been buzzing round her mind for a week. Once she had had time to think it through it seemed ludicrous that a company would continue to pay her a generous salary while she dossed around the country writing a few Tweets and posting some snaps on Facebook. It was clear that Steve was right. She had been at AJC for three years and her severance pay would be at least a year’s salary. Much better to have her sweat it out in grubby hostels for a few weeks so that she would be grateful to hand in her notice.

  There’s no alternative, I will just have to stick it out. If I resign now, not only will I have to work my three months’ notice, I’ll have to put up with the likes of Carl and Steve smirking at me every single day knowing I couldn’t hack it.

  Happy to have made his point regarding her secondment, Steve moved onto a fresh topic of torment. “So come on spill the beans, what happened to Lover Boy? One minute you're practically renting a lunch time slot at Yo! Sushi together, next thing you're back to chomping an M&S salad in your office. Dumped you, did he?”

  “It’s none of your business Steve.” Claire looked up from her laptop and stared into Steve’s muddy brown eyes, holding his gaze until he looked away. “Perhaps we could concentrate on the accounts? You know, work? The Vodafone ad is being filmed tomorrow and we're still trying to pin them down to tell us what airtime their Board is going to let them have.” She took a sip of her latte before replacing the cup on the table. “Apparently the new cheese is all about SEO and viral media rather than more traditional channels.”

  Steve sat back, his face more serious although his eyes still danced with mischief. “Get Jimmy on to it, he'll create something for them. Like that great Fiat Motherhood video. The missus was in hysterics, sent it to all her friends.”

  Claire had seen the video but failed to see the humour. Three months in Pyjamas and comparing episiotomy scars? What was funny about that? It just confirmed her view that having kids was a foolish idea. Whatever Michael had thought about the subject.

  ***

  SIX

  “Auntie Claire! Mummy said you were coming to stay but I didn’t believe it.” A whirl of blonde hair and beads threw itself at Claire’s legs and hugged tight, almost tilting her to the ground. Claire resisted the urge to shake her off like an unwanted dog and waited for the shrieking to stop.

  “Hello Claire,” Ruth greeted her sister as she came to the door. The two women air-kissed, leaning over the child still wrapped around Claire’s legs. “Is that a new perfume, it’s very exotic.” Ruth sniffed the air and Claire could tell she really wanted to say it was awful, but as Claire was there to do a huge favour she had no choice but to be nice.

  “Yes, Michael bought it for me,” Claire said tightly, before gently removing Sky from her legs so she could walk down the corridor to the kitchen-diner.

  “How is Michael?” Ruth asked over her shoulder. Claire wondered if her sister had been so caught up in her own misery she had missed the status updates on Facebook. Or is it that she just can’t keep the maliciousness at bay for five minutes?

  “We broke up.”

  “Oh, did you? I’m sorry to hear that. He was very charming. Not that we saw much of him.”

  Oh, here we go.

  As if sensing her sister’s reaction, Ruth didn’t continue. Instead she pulled Sky away from where she hung off Claire’s arm and smiled brightly at her sister. “Tea?”

  “Earl Grey please, if you have it?”

  “No, only Tetley I’m afraid. Or I have Nescafe?”

  Claire shuddered then shook her head. “A glass of water would be lovely, thank you.”

  Ruth ran water from the kitchen tap into a plastic Disney Princesses beaker and handed it to Claire, who had sat down at the table. Ruth then poured herself more treacle-coloured tea from a spotty-red teapot and sat opposite her.

  “Mum will be here shortly. I’m not supposed to drive, so Mum’s taking me. They’ll do the tests, keep me in overnight for observations, then Mum will come and get me in the morning. I’ll be back by lunchtime tomorrow.”

  “Where are you going exactly? Peterborough General?”

  “No, I’m still covered by Mum and Dad’s health insurance so I’m going private. It was going to be weeks before they could get me an appointment with the NHS.”

  Silence filled the kitchen, broken only by th
e sound of Sky munching grapes. Claire cupped her hands around the bright pink cup and stared at the reflections in her untouched water. It was always like this with Ruth. Unless she was ranting about the latest injustice or gushing over some bloke she’d snogged they didn’t have much to say to each other.

  “How’s work?”

  Claire looked up, surprised at the question. “Fine. I have a new assignment.”

  “Oh, something interesting?”

  “Yes, it could be. I guess. It’s for Happy Cola.”

  The spark of interest in Ruth’s eyes died. “Disgusting teeth-rotting stuff. I can’t believe you endorse evil brands like that.”

  There didn’t seem any way to respond to the comment without starting a row. Sky was now slurping milk through a straw but she looked up and surveyed the two sisters. Catching her gaze, Claire was surprised at how much comprehension there was in her niece’s eyes. She realised she hadn’t seen her niece in over a year. Claire hadn’t joined her family for Christmas, which meant it was the Christmas before that she last saw Sky.

  “Miss Hawkins says Happy Cola was invented by a chemist.”

  Claire didn’t know what to say to the non sequitur. It no longer seemed possible to brush the girl off with That’s nice and a smile.

  “What else have you learned at school?” She said instead.

  “If two pieces of metal touch each other in space they get stuck together.”

  Claire stared at Sky, bereft of words. Where did that come from? I remember learning completely useless facts in school, but that seems a bit technical for a six-year-old. She was still scrabbling for a response when the front door opened and she heard the familiar swish of her mother’s floor-length wool coat sweep the laminate flooring.

  “You’re here then,” her mother said as she came into the kitchen. Claire turned to look at her, trying to read behind the words.

  “Yes, the traffic was surprisingly light, I made good time.”

  “Right. Well, we’d best be off Ruth. Have you told Claire where everything is, when Sky has her tea and when to put her to bed?”

  “Won’t you stop for a cup of tea?” Ruth looked up at her mother, who was still wearing her winter coat. “We’re not due at the hospital for over an hour. Claire’s only just arrived.”

  “We don’t want to be late.”

  Ruth looked apologetically at her sister, as if their mother’s rudeness was somehow her fault. She handed her sister a handwritten sheet of paper. “I’ve written it all down, but if you have any problems you can ring Dad.”

  “Much good that will do you. Your Father’s working this week, otherwise he would have taken Sky.”

  “I thought Dad retired.” Claire smiled at her mother, to show that she was making a light-hearted comment. Her Dad had retired the year before, but he was finding it hard to let go. He had taken on various non-exec roles that seemed to take up more of his time than his full-time job as Chief Financial Officer.

  “Your father works harder than all of you,” was all her mum said, before turning to face the corridor. “Come on Ruth.”

  Sky got down from the table and ran to give her grandmother a cuddle. “Bye bye Nana, see you tomorrow. Auntie Claire and I are going to have so much fun.”

  “Bye bye poppet. You be good for your Auntie Claire.”

  Claire remained seated at the table as her sister bent to kiss her cheek, gave her daughter a huge hug, and scurried off down the corridor after their mother. Sky came over and leant against Claire, putting her arms around her neck. As the front door clicked shut Sky’s face widened into a broad grin.

  “I’m so glad you’re here Auntie. I want you to show me how to paint my nails and my lips and all the things Mummy doesn’t let me do.” Her clear blue eyes sparkled in a way that promised trouble.

  Claire was conscious of a strong desire to run down the corridor after her mother and sister, to tell them she would drive Ruth to the hospital. Instead she looked down into the face gazing mischievously up at her and forced out a smile.

  “Okay, Sky. Let’s have some fun.”

  ***

  SEVEN

  Claire woke suddenly, her heart racing and her ears ringing with the echo of a scream. The bed felt unfamiliar and for a moment she thought she must be at Michael’s house. So who is screaming? Her eyes sought the familiar green numerals of his bedside clock but they weren’t there. Neither was there the orange glow of a street-light flooding through the window to tell her she was in her own apartment.

  Where the hell am I?

  As her heart thudded loudly in the now-silent room she wondered if she was still in the depths of a bad dream. Then the scream came again, turning her body to ice. Claire sat upright and threw herself out of bed. That was Sky. She began hurrying from the room before she remembered that the door in Ruth’s bedroom was in a different place. Claire yelped as she crashed into the chest of drawers, then winced as something sticky and heavy fell off and landed on her foot. Her swearing echoed loudly in the dark. Taking a breath to calm herself Claire walked forward with her arms stretched out in front of her like a ghost and tried to locate the light switch.

  By the time Claire reached Sky’s room the girl had fallen back asleep. If she was even awake in the first place. In the back of her mind Claire seemed to remember Ruth talking about something called Night Terrors and how children could get hysterical without even waking up. Or was that just when they were babies? Claire wished she had paid more attention to her sister’s ramblings.

  She sat on the edge of Sky’s bed and smoothed the damp hair off her niece’s brow. The girl looked younger asleep, even with the remnants of lipstick that still stained her tiny mouth. I hope that comes off before Ruth gets back tomorrow.

  The afternoon with Sky had been surprisingly enjoyable. Now that Sky was able to hold an almost-sensible conversation it wasn’t so terrifying to spend time with her. Exhausting, though. Do children ever draw breath? It seemed that Sky could talk non-stop for several hours without tiring. Her chatter had been entertaining but Claire’s head still reverberated with the relentless high-pitched babble.

  Claire braced herself against the bed, ready to get up and leave the room. Sensing the movement, Sky turned and curled herself around Claire’s back, snuggling against her and giving a contented sigh. Claire was aware of an unusual feeling of contentment. Odd. She sat within the embrace for ten or fifteen minutes, until she was sure Sky was fully asleep. Then she gently removed her niece’s arms and rolled her away, covering her with the duvet so she wouldn’t get cold. She leant over the bed and kissed Sky on the forehead.

  “Sleep well, poppet. Sweet dreams.”

  Back in Ruth’s room, Claire’s heart sank when she saw the time. 2a.m.? She felt wide awake, even though she had only slept for a few hours. I guess I may as well do something useful. Pulling out her laptop, Claire started making notes on her assignment. Best take it seriously. I can’t give them any excuse to fire me for incompetence, not if they’re already trying to get me to quit.

  She wrote a list of things that needed doing:

  1. Choose Blog Name

  2. Start Facebook Fan Page

  3. Choose Twitter name

  4. Buy road map and plot hostels on it

  Thinking about it, I don’t even know where Berwick-Upon-Tweed is. She opened the internet and spent twenty minutes wandering around the YHA website, mentally noting twenty ways they could improve their customer journey.

  She added Join the YHA to her to-do list before clicking on the hostel that would see the start of her journey. It seemed that Berwick was in Northumberland. Not a part of the country Claire had been to before. Her heart sank. Something about the name Northumberland made her feel cold and grey. Reading on, she found out the Berwick YHA was in an eighteenth-century Granary and included its own art gallery.

  Thirteen rooms, all en-suite? That didn’t sound like the hostelling experience she’d imagined, with rows and rows of grimy rooms and one b
athroom between twenty. Even if I have to share with three or four other people, Claire thought, supressing a shudder, at least I don’t have to leave the room to pee.

  ***

  EIGHT

  Claire peered through the gloom, trying to distinguish bodies from furniture. They were in the Kaz Bar in Tiger Tiger for her leaving drinks. Molly, Polly and Sally were huddled together in a booth, giggling. One or other of them occasionally glanced in Claire’s direction and giggled louder.

  I bet they’re laughing about the stupid gift Julia bought with my farewell collection. A 75-litre rucksack and a Maglite torch. Honestly, it’s not like I’m going hiking in the Andes. Actually it’s not like I’m really leaving at all.

  Claire thought back to her farewell presentation that afternoon. She had been quite shocked to look up from her desk to see the entire office gathered outside her glass door. Carl had pushed through the crowd and beckoned her out into the centre, like the sacrifice in some ancient ritual. He’d signalled for quiet before launching into a speech about how Claire would be missed, how they wished her well and looked forward to her blog posts and Facebook status updates. When Julia had dragged out the gift and dumped it at Claire’s feet Carl’s grin couldn’t have been wider if he’d been a hyena.

  “It won’t be wise to turn up in a hostel with Louis Vuitton luggage my dear. They’ll have you down as a snob before you can ask the way to the bidet. That’s if they don’t just steal it and sell it on eBay. The whole point is to blend.” And he’d grinned again, like it was all a big joke.

  Well it isn’t a joke. Claire looked around the bar at all the people who had come to say goodbye. They will miss me, even if they don’t know it yet. And I will have the last laugh when I’m sitting on a beach in the Maldives while they’re doing Year End and worrying about the next mobile phone ad campaign.

  “Get you a drink Claire?”

  Claire looked up to see Steve lounging against a pillar near to where she was standing. She realised her hands were empty and was mortified to be caught standing alone and without a drink at her own leaving do.

 

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