by Zoe Lea
I went to tell her how I wasn’t sure if I could let Sam go to Will after what he’d said to me. How I needed to meet this new woman of Will’s before I could let Sam be with her, how I couldn’t trust anything because I was sure that Ashley was helping Will, that she’d offered her services as a solicitor, when there was a shrill scream from Sam. We both looked to the field where we’d just seen him, but he was no longer there, the field empty, and all we could hear was the strangled cry of Sam and the dog’s consistent bark.
The garden chair fell back as I sprinted around the side of the house.
‘Sam?’
No reply apart from his crying, which seemed to be echoing from all around.
‘Sam, where are you?’
‘He’s here!’ I heard my mother shout from the side of the house. ‘Over here!’
I ran towards them, around the back of the house, my feet struggling with the clumps of earth, the weeds, the uneven tread. What had I been thinking, letting Sam run loose out here? It was a minefield. My heart thumped in my chest as I went towards them.
‘What is it? What’s happened?’ Sam was lying on the floor, massaging his ankle, his face white, his eyes wide. He pointed to the patch of grass in front of him and I immediately saw the problem.
‘You said this was safe!’ I almost screamed. ‘You said it was safe last time I asked. You said the wood was stable!’
We looked over at the board that had rotted away and caused Sam to trip. It was over a disused well that had been at the bottom of what was my mother’s garden. My father had found it when he started to create a vegetable patch that he never finished. The stone flags that adorned the opening of the well were visible through the decaying wood and I gripped Sam tightly. We should have contacted someone immediately, got them to fill it in, but my father had romantic ideas of bringing it back to life. He talked of building it back up, of making it some kind of wishing well, which of course never happened, and the result was a hole in the ground, surrounded by flags of stone, with a plank of wood over it.
Last summer the dog had nearly fallen down it, and we’d got a company out who’d quoted a small fortune to fill it with concrete. In the end, we decided to go with a ‘man and van’ advert who promised us he’d board it up so that it would be safe. That was a year ago, and now the weather had taken its toll on the wood. Along with the outbuildings and the ridiculously overgrown garden the whole place was dangerous. I was furious with myself and my mother for thinking we could sit out in it and relax.
‘It is! It was!’ My mother bent forward and examined the wood covered in moss and plants. ‘It’s rotted,’ she announced, ‘needs doing again is all.’
I looked at Sam, his face ashen, tears rolling freely down his cheeks and held him close. I examined his ankle, moved it around.
‘It’s just a bruise,’ my mother was saying, ‘he just tripped, it’s not broken.’
‘He could’ve fallen in!’ I swept Sam up. His crying had abated a little, but he was obviously in shock. He was shivering, putting his arms around me as I helped him stand. His mouth a large open circle. ‘Why didn’t you tell me it had got like this? Do I have to check everything?’
‘I didn’t know!’ She came forward to comfort Sam, but I pulled him away from her, wrapping him in my arms and protecting him from her touch.
‘Ruth!’
‘He could’ve been killed.’
‘Hardly, it’s still boarded. It’s just the edge.’
‘Can you stand, Sam?’ I turned to him, his face full of horror. He was almost as tall as me, almost up to my shoulders, and it was easy to forget that he was only eight. Only a little boy and so vulnerable. I hugged him tightly, kissing the top of his head.
‘I’ll get some ice,’ said my mother. ‘C’mon, Sammy … ’
‘No,’ I snapped and stroked Sam’s head. ‘I’m taking him home.’
My mother’s face fell. I wanted to tell her that it was OK, that it wasn’t her fault, but it was. She should have had this sorted or, at the very least, warned me of it and stopped Sam from playing there. For the first time I couldn’t find the words to console her.
Sam whimpered as we hobbled towards the car. I was silent, my mother following on behind, the dog yapping at our feet. We were both shivering. If it was the cold in the air, or what had just happened to blame I didn’t know. All I knew was that Sam would not be playing outside at my mother’s again. My mother talked incessantly the whole time about how she didn’t know, about how she thought it was safe, but I couldn’t answer her. I was too full of rage to be rational, with everything that was going on. I just wanted to get my boy away from there and keep him safe.
Sam quietened after we got in the car and then closed his eyes. I reached over and stroked his hair as I drove. It was beginning to get dark, the twilight hour and the fields rushed by at the sides of us as we sped along the A road towards Carlisle.
‘Have a little sleep, honey,’ I told him. ‘It’ll do you good, and when we get home I’ll make you a hot chocolate.’
He smiled before turning his head towards the window, as I joined the traffic leading into the city. I’d call her when I arrived home. Apologise. Tell her not to let the dog out of the back any more, not to go there herself until I got it fixed. I’d call someone tomorrow and then felt the drag of disappointment as I thought about how much the whole thing would cost. My mother didn’t have money to spend on that and neither did I, but it needed to be done. Perhaps we could leave it till next summer, just get some fresh boards to cover it over until then and avoid the area?
The traffic slowed as we came to the roundabout and my mind wandered back over what I’d been telling my mother about Will.
What could I use to make him look like a bad father? In what situation was he open to attack? I suddenly realised I knew nothing about his life. I didn’t want to know how his relationship was going, or how his company was doing now he was no longer with the woman whose family had helped set it up. I dropped Sam off at his mother’s and left him at the door. The only time I spoke to Will was via text message. I’d long ago stopped talking to him. It was mostly just one-word texts about how Sam was doing, and people had stopped telling me about him when I cut them off as soon as his name was mentioned. To me, when Will betrayed us, he was gone from our lives. I saw my mistake now.
I pulled up to my house with a new agenda. I needed to know everything about him. His work, who he was with, everything. If he played rugby still, or was just involved in the training, what pubs he drank in, who he socialised with. I needed to know it all. Because if I’d learned anything from this past week, it was that everyone had a weak spot. I looked across to Sam who had fallen asleep in the car, the curve of his cheek reminding me of when he was much younger, when I could carry him to his bedroom if he fell asleep in the car. How he’d nuzzle into the side of my neck, and the way he smelt of milk and sleepiness. It pulled at me, the fierce love, and I knew without any doubt I’d do anything to keep him with me. Anything.
‘Hey, sweetie,’ I said, gently trying to wake him. ‘We’re home.’ I looked up and noticed a red Fiat. There must’ve been new tourists in one of the properties, but what made me stare was that there was someone inside the car. I leaned forward, peering through the windscreen to be certain I was seeing a figure and not some luggage or a coat thrown over the seat. I saw a movement of the head and jerked back. There was someone in that car. And they were watching me.
‘Sam,’ I said, my tone no longer cajoling. ‘Sam, wake up. Time to wake up now.’
He rubbed his eyes. ‘Mum?’
‘C’mon, sweetie, we need to get in. Now.’
I opened the door, keeping my eyes on the red Fiat. I almost expected whoever it was to get out, as if they’d been waiting for us, but they didn’t move. It was unnerving. For a moment I wondered if they were perhaps locked out of a property and were sat inside the car waiting for the owner to open up for them. Perhaps I was being paranoid, but then they swit
ched on the engine. They began pressing down on the accelerator, making it scream.
‘Hurry it up, honey,’ I told Sam, as the red Fiat continued to roar in the dark. ‘Quickly now,’ I helped him out, trying to get to our front door as fast as possible.
The car remained stationary. They hadn’t switched on the headlights and I could only see the outline of whoever was in the house. The tang of the fumes filled the air, the sound was deafening and, in my haste to get inside, I dropped my keys. I bent down, scrabbling about on the pavement.
‘Shit!’ I heard myself hiss as I found them and opened the door.
I looked back at the stationary car, it’s engine still screaming. The dark shadowy figure seemed to be staring right at me, hands wrapped around the steering wheel.
‘Mum?’ Sam asked.
Suddenly the car jumped into action, accelerating down the street towards us at speed.
‘Get inside, Sam,’ I instructed. ‘Get inside now!’
Still in complete darkness, it screeched past us, turning our corner and leaving us on the deserted street.
I stared after it, and looked to the terrace at either side of us. Both appeared to be empty, which was usual for this time of year. It was the lull between the end of the summer holidays and just before the autumn hikers.
‘Mummy?’ Sam asked, and I walked inside, nodding, trying to put a smile on my face. Trying to appear calm.
‘Everything’s fine,’ I told him and that’s when I stood on it. Another envelope. It had been pushed through the door and I’d squashed whatever was inside with my foot. Felt it compress under the sole of my shoe, something soft and formless. Panic rose as I guessed what it was. My name was typed on the front of the envelope in bold letters and I instinctively checked the back of my shoe, even though the envelope was still intact.
‘What’s this?’
‘Don’t touch that!’ I shouted, but it was too late, Sam had already picked it up and was tearing it open.
He pulled the contents out and we both jumped back as he dropped it to the floor with a scream.
One of my neon cupcake cases, filled with excrement. Flattened by my foot with excrement leaking out. I put my hand to my nose as the stench of it hit us.
‘Wash your hands,’ I ordered Sam.
‘But why—’
‘Now!’
He looked at me for a moment before trudging to the kitchen and I stared at the cupcake a moment before opening the door and kicking it outside.
‘Was that one of your cakes?’ Sam shouted from the kitchen. ‘Had someone put—’
‘It was a joke,’ I said quickly, and slid the extra bolt across that we never normally used. ‘Just a silly joke.’
Sam stared at me as I checked the windows throughout the house and made sure the back door was locked. My heart thrummed as I tried to stay calm, but there was no getting away from it. Someone had left another of my cupcakes filled with faecal matter for my son to find. They were sending me a very definite message. They were trying to scare me. And it was working.
SEVENTEEN
Carlisle farmers’ market is set in the pedestrian area, right in the middle of the city centre. Rows of brightly coloured stalls sell local produce, and it’s extremely popular. There’s all the usual stuff – crafts, plants, meats and various food stalls – and it’s held just one weekend a month from April to December. I had managed to convince Poppy, of Poppy’s Jams, to sell a few of my cakes on her stall. It was still early days. I’d only had the agreement with her for two months so far, and that Sunday morning I was late. Really late. So not only did it mean that I had to brave the crowds of people and try not to have an anxiety attack while getting to Poppy’s Jams, it meant that I might lose my spot with her.
Last night I’d called the police, and after an hour of tense waiting a couple of tired officers had appeared at my door. They’d searched the property and informed me that there was no forced entry, no criminal damage and nothing had been stolen.
‘I know that,’ I’d told them, ‘but someone posted this through my door.’ I’d pointed to the envelope that they had since examined. ‘Someone pushed a cupcake filled with –’ I’d checked Sam wasn’t in the room ‘– shit through my door. And there was a red Fiat, a car that drove off when we got home.’
They’d shared a look.
‘It was either my ex-husband,’ I’d gone on, ‘who’s trying to get custody of my son, or this woman from school, Janine Walker, who hates me because of a misunderstanding with her husband. Or possibly one of her friends, Ashley Simmons, or, thinking about it, it might actually be her husband, Rob Walker he—’
The police officer had held up his hand to stop me. ‘You seem to have a lot of enemies, a variety of people who could be responsible for –’ he’d checked his notes ‘– posting a cupcake through your door?’
‘A defiled cupcake,’ I’d corrected, ‘and yes, it could be any one of a number of people. Janine is very popular at the school where I work. She has this whole clique who’d do anything for her.’
They’d shared another look.
‘We can log this,’ he’d told me, ‘but as there’s no direct threat and it could be any one of a number of people, the best thing to do is monitor it and, if anything else happens, call us.’
‘That’s it?’ My voice had been high. ‘But someone did this intentionally, they meant to scare me.’
‘Try not to worry,’ he’d said as they went to leave. ‘Whoever it was didn’t do much damage, and it’s on record now, and we usually find that things like this –’ he’d waved his hand in the general direction of my living room, as if referring to my life ‘– behaviour of this manner, is usually down to a small disagreement that tends to blow over.’
They’d left offering me no reassurance whatsoever and so I’d spent the entire night with Sam and me barricaded in my bedroom and a kitchen knife under my pillow. I’d finally fallen asleep around dawn which meant I’d stupidly slept in.
In the morning, realising how late I was, I’d dropped Sam off at my mother’s with a hurried apology and rushed to the market, but was now in danger of losing my spot with Poppy.
‘Sorry, sorry,’ I muttered as I heaved my boxes towards the stall. ‘I couldn’t get my car into the pedestrian bit as I’m so late and I’ve had to park where the punters do and –’ I put the boxes down on the table ‘– these weigh a tonne!’
I smiled what I hoped was a bright smile at Poppy and didn’t convey just how hard I found it to tackle the busy streets. Normally I would’ve been here as the stallholders set up, arranging my cakes with Poppy, leaving before the first customer arrived and when the streets were bare and calm.
She didn’t return the smile. ‘She said you’d do this,’ Poppy said. ‘I’ve been ringing and ringing and you didn’t answer.’
‘I called you earlier,’ I said, pulling my phone out of my pocket. It was out of battery. ‘I left a message and when I didn’t hear back I thought it was OK, but my phone’s dead and … ’ I took a moment. ‘Sorry, who said what?’
‘There was a woman here, told me that you’re being inspected by the health and safety and that’s why you weren’t going to show up.’
I stared back, stunned.
‘She saw the empty cake stands and told me that you’ve had three orders cancelled this week, due to your inspection.’
‘I’ve had one order cancelled and it was nothing to do with my hygiene. I’ve all my certificates, you know I’ve passed everything.’
Poppy was shaking her head. ‘And then to turn up here, two hours late … What if I’d not had enough stock? I’d have had half a stall empty. Ruth, it’s not on.’
‘Poppy!’ I walked around to the side of her. ‘Did you hear my message? I had to call the police last night because of an incident, and then I had to drop Sam off at my mother’s because Will isn’t having him this weekend. That’s why I’m so late, and I’m not being inspected by the health and safety. I would
tell you otherwise, that’s just a rumour someone started.’
She looked at me for a moment.
‘The police?’
I nodded. ‘Someone had been to our house while we were out and—’
She raised her hand up to stop me from continuing.
‘Thing is,’ she said, ‘I just don’t need the hassle. It’s always something with you, Ruth, and I’m just trying to sell a few pots of jam here.’
‘Please,’ I said, and looked at my full boxes, ‘this was a one off. It won’t happen again. Promise.’
‘OK,’ she said after a moment. ‘Set up quick. I’ll ring you later to tell you what’s sold. But keep your phone on and charged.’
I left with a sick feeling in my stomach. It had taken a while to get a spot with Poppy. If I lost that then people would hear and the rumour that Janine had started would gain pace.
I was about to get back in my car and go to my mother’s to collect Sam, when I felt a hand on my shoulder.
‘Ruth?’
It was Eve, an unsure smile playing on her lips.
‘I was hoping to find you here. I just came from your cake stall. I could really do with talking to you. I think you need to hear what I’ve got to say.’
*
We went to a local café – overpriced coffee and cakes that weren’t a patch on mine, but it had an upstairs and a booth. Somewhere we could hide. Somewhere away from the Sunday crowds of people that horded into Carlisle when the farmers’ market was on. If I tried hard enough, I could imagine I was sitting somewhere empty.
‘We’re moving schools,’ Eve said, as she emptied a sachet of sugar into her flat white. ‘This is our last term.’
‘Oh,’ I said, ‘sorry to hear that.’ I looked towards the door.
‘We’re leaving because of Janine,’ she said, and my heart skipped a beat. ‘Janine and Rob. That’s the reason we’re having to take Ryan and Zara out of school.’