by Nina Manning
I had lied to the police.
Who lives their life with a sense of impending doom? Those were Eve’s words. Apparently, we should have done. For it was certainly how I would live my life from now on.
I looked at Ben now as he was dressed and he had an intensely sad look in his eyes.
‘I don’t know what to do anymore, everything is a mess.’
‘I know,’ I said.
‘I know you’ve lost Eve, and I need to be here for you, but I have to go, Daisy. I have to go. If I don’t go, I will lose the job. If I lose the job it will kill the career I have been working towards all my life. This is my one and only opportunity. If I lose it, that’s it. You don’t get a second chance in this industry.’
My heart started racing and I tried to swallow but it felt forced. ‘So you’re bailing? Five minutes in and you’re bailing? Jesus, Ben, I thought you were here for me. This is it, for better or for worse. This is the worse and you can’t handle it.’
Ben approached me, took hold of my shoulders and looked me directly in the eye. ‘I’m not bailing. I have to go.’
‘What?’ I whispered barely able to understand what was happening.
Ben stepped away from me and rubbed his face in his hands.
‘Who are you, Ben? I mean, you sweep into my life all melancholic and mysterious, not knowing what you want from life, always with that look in your eyes as though… as though, you haven’t got a bloody clue what is going on?’ I could feel the rage building and I continued. ‘And then the police? What’s with the police, hey? They drag you down to the station for seven hours and… and for what? You won’t even tell me what they asked you? And then I get to thinking, Ben, that day at the flat, you with your head in the oven? We already know what happened here when you were a kid with the fire, I mean… would you? Is that your bag? Starting fires? Would you do something like that? Did you even care for Eve? Do you even love me…?’
Ben looked over at me. His eyes seemed ever darker with the shadows underneath. His stubble had grown into the beginnings of a beard. His hair was longer. Everything about him, down to the way he glared at me, was unrecognisable. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it and simply shook his head. He pulled on a hoody and headed for the door. He paused and walked back towards me.
‘Daisy. I have to go. I’ll be back before the baby is here. I promise you that.’ Ben leant in to embrace me but already I could feel something was missing. I pushed him away. He looked at me for a few seconds then walked out of the door. A part of me felt pure hatred for him right then, but another part of me ached to follow him out of the door and fall into his arms.
Instead I slumped down on the bed and soaked in the emptiness. Before long I felt weary again. I lay down on my side. As I did the baby began a short spurt of acrobatics. I felt the movements for a few minutes then closed my eyes.
I opened my eyes. Something had woken me. I was thrust from a dream where the echo of Ben’s voice was all around me in the room still and it sounded as though a crash and thud had brought me to. I leapt up and looked out of the window. It was lighter now, the sea was less rough and was gently lapping at the shore. Further along the shore I saw a woman and a small dog walking along the shingle beach.
I walked downstairs, poked my head into the lounge. I called once.
‘Ben? Annie?’ I couldn’t see or hear anyone.
I walked back into the hallway, and found the keys to my Renault. It was still early, barely 9 a.m. I felt a knot in my gut at the prospect of stepping outside, realising I hadn’t done so since before, when everything was normal; as it should be. Where my life seemed once to seamlessly roll from one day into the next, it was now jagged and uneasy. Every breath or step I took came with an acute sense of awareness, as though I might break at any moment.
But I had an overwhelming urge to leave the house. To be somewhere, anywhere other than here. The last few days had been a mass of frustration and heartache. But most of all, I now doubted my husband, the man I had married for better or for worse. I realised I didn’t know him at all.
I pushed the keys into my trouser pocket and headed for the door where I put on the plimsolls I had always kept in the car for when I had to drive and I was wearing heels. Ben’s thick blue winter cardigan which was hanging on a hook by the door. I instinctively grabbed it and wrapped myself in it.
Forty minutes later I pulled up outside mine and Eve’s flat. I looked up at the windows, which were broken. A thick grey smudge framed each one. I opened the car door and stepped out. There were yellow police banners plastered across the window, some had fallen away at one side and now hung there like discarded party streamers.
I closed the car door and began walking tentatively towards the building that I once lived in with my best friend and husband. As I got closer I could see a figure hovering by the wall, looking at an array of flowers I hadn’t expected to be there. As I got closer I recognised the burley stature.
‘Hi, Daisy.’ Patrick raised his head slightly. He spoke softly and without surprise. He was hunched over a bunch of flowers, reading a small card. He wore a heavy long black coat and as he stood, he pulled it up around his neck. I mirrored his behaviour by pulling the cardigan I had borrowed from Ben tighter around me and the mound of baby inside of me. Patrick motioned towards the flowers. ‘I was just looking at some of the things people had written. She was very popular, our Eve.’
I bent down to a squat. Something that would normally feel comfortable, today felt like hard work. I dropped to my knees.
‘I come here every day. I have done, since last week when it happened. I have a bereavement counsellor, he said it’s called ‘searching’. Common when, you know, someone, goes… suddenly. Like our Eve did. He told me we find ourselves returning to the spot where a person died. Hoping to find something. Hoping to find them. That’s what he told me anyway. I suppose that’s what you’re doing, isn’t it?’
‘I… I don’t know. I just came out for a drive and found myself here.’
‘Well, that sounds about right. Are you speaking to anyone? A counsellor?’ Patrick’s tone was so matter of fact, it felt as though we were strangers.
I brushed a piece of hair away from my mouth then picked up a small blue teddy. There was no card attached and I was overcome with wonder as to who would have left it. ‘No, no one. I’ve got no one,’ I said, then realised the true enormity of what I had said. Ben had gone. I knew it when I woke the second time. I had felt the echo of his presence. The words that I had said to him were still ringing in my ears.
‘Well, you might think about it after the funeral. A week today. It seems like forever. But then afterwards time will fly by and this will all be… well, in the past.’ Patrick remained together, focused. As though he was dealing with Eve’s death like reading a textbook, whilst I wanted to curl up in a heap among the bouquets. I looked up at Patrick. He had lost weight and his face looked sunken. He reached down and helped me to my feet. We both stood looking at the floor for a few moments.
‘Did she… did Eve ever…?’ I looked up at Patrick and I could see his withdrawn cheeks flushing with colour. ‘Did she talk about me much? About us? How do you think she… saw our future together?’ Patrick looked at me with his mouth pulled to one side. He shoved his hands firmly into his pockets ‘Cos, I know what you two are, were, well, like sisters really. You spoke about everything, I suppose.’
I felt my heart sink even further even though I didn’t know it could, as I recalled the last conversation I had with Eve about Patrick.
‘Well, she, you know… I can’t remember.’ I watched Patrick as he nodded his head and turned back to the tributes.
‘Of course. I understand,’ he said softly.
‘I’m sorry.’ I felt the rush of sadness and I put my hands over my face, trying to hide from Patrick who seemed so together.
‘Hey, hey.’ Patrick took me in his arms. Even though there wasn’t much difference in height between the two of us, I
felt Patrick take my weight and I felt safe and protected. I recognised the scent of his aftershave as the one that always lingered in the hallway long after he had come in and been escorted into the flat. I missed Eve. I wept and my shoulders shook. I didn’t know how long I had been standing there in his arms, my mind racing with thoughts of Eve. Then it occurred to me, this was why Eve was with him. Patrick was caring, giving, strong and protective. Of course she was never going to leave him. She probably would have moved in with him for sure and even married him one day. Eve put on a front, but she had stayed with Patrick for over three years, which was a record. I remembered what she was like before he came around; she always made sure she was immaculate for him and I saw what they were like together as a couple. Eve may have not wanted to believe that Patrick was the one for her, but I could not imagine it any other way. I eased myself out his firm grip, to look at Patrick’s face that couldn’t hide the bitter sadness.
‘She adored you.’ I began. ‘She couldn’t wait for you to come over and hang out and she would always take that extra bit longer in the bathroom when she knew you were coming over. And she talked about you often, with fondness. Real fondness. She never slagged you off or called you all the stuff we women like to call you men. She genuinely loved you, Patrick. You would have had a very happy life together.’ I felt relief. The last few days had been messy and fractured. I struggled constantly to hold one sane thought in my head. And now I felt I had said something that truly felt as though it made sense. Something real that would help ease Patrick’s grief if only by a tiny per cent.
We had sat for over an hour, Patrick and I, with take away coffees from the café at the foot of the hill and we had left, both agreeing to keep in contact until the funeral. Apart from the support that it would bring, we had to converse between now and then as there were readings and flowers to arrange. Patrick would cover the cost, he had been adamant on that.
As I got into the car my thoughts were brought back to Ben and our argument. Despite the comfort Patrick had brought to me, I couldn’t push away the all the nagging feelings within me. Eve’s death and my words to Ben. What had I meant by them? Was I truly blaming my husband for my friend’s death? I sat in the car and mulled everything over and over until I began to feel dizzy with it all. But the uneasiness crept back and lingered long after I left and began the drive back to the beach house.
Annie
I heard the crunching of stones under rubber tyres and stood close to the door, waiting for her to enter. She opened the door and immediately I could see she looked terrible. Her eyes were bloodshot and red all around. She looked frozen having only been wearing Ben’s cardigan. When I went to speak my voice was more controlled than I had anticipated.
‘Daisy. Where on earth have you been? I have been…’ I needed to say anxious, worried, but I couldn’t force the word out of my mouth. ‘The baby, Daisy, you need to be thinking of the baby. My grandchild. Come in, let me get you something warm to drink.’
Daisy closed the door and removed Ben’s cardigan.
‘I just need to lie down, Annie,’ she said and made for the stairs.
‘Okay,’ I called after her. ‘You just let me know if you or that little baby need anything.’
A few hours later, I headed upstairs to perform my usual rituals of making sure all windows were shut having given the house sufficient airing, it was now time to warm the house for the afternoon and evening.
As I approached Ben’s room I peered around the bedroom door. Daisy looked as though she were asleep. I approached her bedside on tiptoes. I should have stopped and caught my breath outside the door as my breathing was now laboured. Daisy stirred and moved under the duvet.
‘Annie.’ Daisy’s voice was croaky from sleep.
‘I was just coming to check on you. Do you need anything?’
Daisy pulled herself to sitting.
‘Erm. No. I’m fine. I think.’
I watched as she began the religious act of tying her hair up with the band she kept around her wrist. Mounds of thick yellow hair, swiftly and confidently wrapped up into a bun on the top of her head.
‘I will probably get up soon. I thought I heard his voice a little while ago.’
‘Who, dear?’
‘Ben’s.’
‘You know Ben has gone, don’t you Daisy?’
‘I… I thought he would wait… say goodbye’
‘The taxi came and took him. He couldn’t wait apparently.’
Daisy turned to look at the window where the curtains were open just a crack. I could see the tears welling in her eyes.
‘Daisy’ I began. ‘You know as well as I do that you never really knew Ben. Think of everything that has happened: marriage, a baby, a fire, losing your friend and home. How do you think that affected a simple soul like my Ben? Hmmm?’
Daisy didn’t say anything, she just sat staring out of the window.
‘Sometimes, Daisy, knowing too much about someone too soon is a recipe for disaster. Do you know what I mean?’ I looked at Daisy and wondered if my words would impact her. They didn’t. She was in shock. I looked around the room. It needed a hoover and a dust whilst I thought about it and there was a musty smell lingering. I looked at Daisy who was the centrepiece to the disgusting mess all around her.
I began to frantically pick up some clothes of Ben’s which were lying around the end of the bed.
Daisy made a half attempt to lean over and retrieve a sweatshirt that was clearly not within reaching distance.
‘Just leave it, dear, I’ll do it. You need to save all your strength for you and the baby.’
I stood up straight and looked at Daisy who was eyeing me suspiciously. I knew I’d had had little to say about the baby until now – the whole seedy affair had disgusted me, the way she had got herself pregnant so soon – but with one parent absent in body and the other in her mind, it was my job to step up and be the grandparent that this child needed me to be.
‘You’re a guest, Daisy. You just stay put and don’t worry. Everything is going to be just fine.’
I looked on at her curiously as I stood there with my arms full of clothes. I felt the irritation rise inside. Then I felt something familiar and I realised why Ben had fallen for her, because even in her depths of grief, the girl managed to look like a figure of elegance.
Grace
At the second cooking lesson, Jenny was there as usual, in her place with Mikee by her feet. I watched Jenny from across the room; she was chatting animatedly to Emily whilst Mikee clung to her legs. I was captivated by her beauty but also at the prospect of having a friend. Someone I could call upon and vice versa. I had never had any sisters or brothers and just being near to Jenny made me feel something. She gave off a beautiful aura.
I looked on longingly. First at Jenny in all her golden splendour, then at the pair of them, mother and son; a tangled mess of love. I was lost in my admiration of her when suddenly Jenny was enthusiastically waving me over.
‘Grace! Yoo-hoo!’ As I approached the two women my eyes were once again drawn to Mikee and then to a large bruise that circled his cheek bone. I gasped and Jenny shot me a look.
‘It’s okay, he’s just been falling over again, haven’t you Mikee?’ Jenny said with a reassuring tone and a wink at Emily. ‘Emily’s got three boys at home, haven’t you? Anyway, how are you, Grace? How’s the cooking going?’
I nodded. ‘Yes, good thanks, Jenny.’ I placed my bag down under the counter and turned to the sink behind me.
‘I must get on,’ I heard Emily say as she went and took her place in front of the class. When I could see that Emily was out of earshot, I turned to Jenny as I dried my hands. ‘So he got that bruise from falling over, did he?’
She looked down at Mikee who was pushing a car around on the floor. Jenny furrowed her brow and bent down and busied herself with straightening his jumper. ‘Yes. He’s very clumsy. He’s not three until August. Boys, hey! You’ll see, Grace, when you have children.’
<
br /> I could sense the rawness of the subject, for I was a pro at brushing over things that didn’t beg to be talked about, and decided not to mention it again. But I knew that boy didn’t get that bruise from falling over. I understood the balance of power between adults and children. And the children always lost.
I arrived at her counter and wiped my damp hands down my apron. I smiled at Jenny and picked up the paperwork in front of me. I took a surreptitious peep under the counter at Mikee. He gave a cheeky grin. He looked happy enough.
I thought about the child Jenny was carrying and what sort of life it might have, born into a house where it wasn’t wanted, with a father who had a temper and a mother who scuttled around covering it up all the while.
Daisy
I didn’t know my husband. I had begun to understand his foibles and his awkward ways that sometimes disrupted my psyche, but that was a marriage; there had to be give and take. What I hadn’t really known was what something so serious this soon into our relationship would do to Ben. I knew he had a tender soul and that he got affected by the world, so in hindsight I should have been prepared.
I knew I had broken us. I knew by blaming Ben for Eve’s death, I had forced him away. We weren’t strong enough to survive this. A baby, a marriage, Eve’s death, not to mention Ben had lost everything in the fire. It was too much for one relationship to take so soon. But as I sat alone on the edge of the bed on the morning of Eve’s funeral, I wasn’t prepared for the sadness that engulfed me. Our relationship had barely done any mileage; we hadn’t attended friend’s weddings, had a holiday together, we hadn’t yet weathered the storms of a marriage, waded through the tribulations together. This tragedy should have been one we faced it together. But it was too soon for him, as Annie often reminded me – he wasn’t built for this kind of distress. I felt the lack of his presence hard.