by Rona Halsall
Frank grimaced. ‘That’s a tricky one, no doubt about it.’
‘What’s tricky?’ Kate asked as she came into the room.
Becca blinked. Frank coughed. ‘Life,’ he said, with a quick wink at Becca. She winked back, grateful for his cover-up.
Kate cocked her head, frowning. ‘What’s going on here?’ She glanced from one to the other. ‘You two are up to something. Come on, spill the beans.’
Frank and Becca looked at each other.
‘Oh, it’s going to be like that, is it? Two against one?’ Kate folded her arms across her chest, annoyance sparking in her eyes. ‘She always was your favourite, wasn’t she, Dad?’
Frank tutted. ‘No, love. No, I’ve never had favourites.’
Becca thought he could have sounded more convincing and noticed the furrow between Kate’s eyebrows. She didn’t want trouble, couldn’t face an argument. So she took a deep breath and made the only decision that made sense – she told Kate what had happened.
Kate sank on to the arm of the sofa, clearly shocked. ‘And it’s up to a psychiatrist now?’
Becca shrugged. ‘Not completely. There’s a team of people from the hospital and social services who decide. But whatever the psychiatrist recommends in terms of treatment, after these further assessments, I have to go along with it.’
Kate pulled a face. ‘Oh God. How long’s all that going to take?’
Becca sighed, her shoulders slumped. Now she’d laid it all out for her sister, her situation seemed hopeless. ‘They’re sending me an appointment. But I doubt if it’ll just be one session. I’ve had patients go through psychiatric assessments and it can take weeks.’ Just the thought of all the time away from her daughter caused a new surge of despair, and she buried her head in her hands.
‘Oh, dear. You’ll be here a while then?’
‘Seems like it,’ Frank said, answering for her as he came and sat next to her, his hand rubbing her back.
That night, when Becca was setting up the bed, Kate came in, closing the door behind her. ‘Let me do that,’ she said as she bustled Becca out of the way. ‘I can see you’re wiped out.’ Gratefully, Becca watched as her sister made up the bed, plumping the pillows and making sure it was as comfortable as possible.
‘There you are. I won’t need you to be up so early tomorrow, you’ll be pleased to know. I’ve got my laptop, so I can get started in my bedroom first thing.’
Becca sank on to the bed, looking longingly at the squishy pillows. ‘Thank you. I could do with a proper night’s sleep. I hardly slept a wink last night, and as soon as I dropped off, it was time to get up again.’
Kate sat next to her on the bed. ‘Actually, there’s something I wanted to ask you.’
Becca wasn’t sure she was up to answering any more questions, but Kate carried on regardless.
‘As you know, I’ve been here about three years now, and I have to be honest, it’s been a struggle. I just wanted to make sure you don’t mind if I start taking the occasional time out?’
Becca stopped smoothing out the duvet. ‘I’m not sure what you mean?’
Kate gave her a tentative smile. ‘I had such a great time last weekend, I’ve organised another trip. In a couple of weeks. And then I’m thinking about a holiday. A fortnight away. You’ll be okay keeping an eye on Dad, won’t you?’
Becca had been expecting a ticking off for not listening to Kate and shooting off to the hospital on her own, so this came as a surprise. But there was no reason for Kate to be at the house all the time.
She nodded. ‘Yeah, that’s fine. No problem. It’s not like I’m going anywhere anytime soon, is it?’ She saw the flicker of delight on Kate’s face. ‘I know it’s been tricky having to be here for him, and I’m sorry I haven’t been much help recently.’ She sighed. ‘Thing is, we’d just made plans for him to come over more often. He’s like a different man when he’s with Mia – they have such a lovely time together. All this has ruined it for him.’
‘Don’t be so hard on yourself.’ Kate put an arm round her shoulder and gave her an unexpected hug. ‘You haven’t ruined it for him at all. There’s nothing to say he can’t spend time with Mia. It’s just you, isn’t it?’
Her words registered in Becca’s mind and an idea sprang to life. That’s right. Dad can spend all the time he likes with her. She wondered if that was a way for her to get to see her daughter. Frank could go and pick her up, take her out and ‘accidentally’ meet Becca. Who would know? Her pulse started to race.
Would Dean allow it, though? That was the problem, given the fact the two men disliked each other. But a flicker of hope ignited in her chest.
‘Here’s a deal,’ she said to Kate, suddenly animated.
Her sister raised an eyebrow, curious.
‘You go away as often as you like as long as you ask Dean if you can take Mia out, to give him a break. Then you can bring her back here, and Dad and I can spend some time with her.’
Kate’s eyes narrowed and her arm dropped from Becca’s shoulders. ‘What? I can’t do that. Firstly, it’s illegal. And secondly, Mia would tell Dean. Then I’d be the bad guy.’ She shook her head. ‘No, sorry, I could get into all sorts of trouble.’
Becca let her body flop backwards on to the bed. Kate was right.
‘You’re just going to have to go along with the process and have faith that it’ll all get sorted out.’ Kate stood and stretched her arms above her head. ‘So, you’re okay for Dad-minding duties while you stay here?’
Becca couldn’t answer, gripped by the fear she might never be allowed to live with her daughter again.
26
The next morning, Becca woke to the sound of shouting coming up from the kitchen below. She clambered out of bed, increasingly worried as the volume rose, Frank and Kate both shouting at the same time. She reached the hall in time to see Kate storm out of the kitchen, her face like thunder, and she pushed past Becca as if she was one of the coats hanging on the wall. The door slammed shut behind her as she left the house.
Becca stared at the closed door, stunned for a moment, still not fully awake. She’d had another turbulent night and was even more groggy today than she’d been the day before. The sound of sobbing made her dash into the kitchen, where Frank was sitting at the kitchen table, his head resting on his arms.
‘Dad, whatever’s the matter?’
He seemed startled by her voice and jumped up, his back towards her, and went over to the kettle, filled it from the tap and switched it on. He coughed, clearing his throat. ‘Cup of tea, love?’ He sniffed. Coughed again before he started whistling one of his favourite tunes.
‘Come on, don’t pretend nothing just happened. I heard you two yelling at each other.’ Her thoughts screeched to a halt as she reached a horrible conclusion. ‘It’s not me, is it? I haven’t caused trouble between you, have I?’
Frank stopped whistling but still wouldn’t look at her. He reached into the cupboard for a couple of mugs and dropped a tea bag into each one.
‘So, what was it about? It sounded like you were going to kill each other.’
Frank’s shoulders sagged. ‘Would you believe I don’t really know?’
‘It must have been something.’
He sighed and tipped boiling water in the mugs, made the tea and brought it over to the table. Becca pulled out a chair and he sat opposite. ‘She’s a bit on edge. I don’t know if it’s work or…’ He shrugged. ‘Honestly, I’m not really sure but it feels like when your mother had one of her turns and she morphed into a wildcat. She used to fly at me sometimes and I never knew what triggered her. She’d just say it was the final straw and then…’ He studied the table, picking up crumbs with his index finger.
Becca remembered her mum’s temper, how she would get frustrated with her dad’s messiness, and Kate was pretty much a carbon copy of their mother, even down to looks. She’d definitely inherited her short fuse but she wasn’t vindictive. Yes, she could be bossy, but she wouldn’t have been yelli
ng like that for no reason. ‘Tell me it wasn’t about tidying up. That’s what Mum used to get uptight about, wasn’t it?’
‘No, it wasn’t that. I’ve learnt my lesson since she’s been here, and I daren’t leave things out just in case it starts a row.’ He blew on his tea and took a sip, both of them quiet. Seconds stretched to minutes. He shuffled in his seat then put his mug down and looked straight at her. ‘Okay, I’ll be honest. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t know, and if you’re going to be living here for a while…’ He sighed. ‘She says I behave like I’m helpless when I’m not and I should get a grip and act like an adult instead of her having to baby me all the time.’
Becca’s eyes widened, shocked that her sister would say such a thing, even if there was an iota of truth in it. ‘She said that to you?’
He nodded, sadness pulling at the corners of his mouth. ‘It’s not the first time. It seems to be her go-to argument when she’s uptight about something.’ He shrugged again. ‘She has no patience if she’s got something on her mind. And she takes it out on me.’
Becca stretched across the table and found her dad’s hand, giving it a squeeze. ‘I’m here now, Dad. I think that’ll take the pressure off.’ She sighed. ‘I think she’s just frustrated at how her life has turned out and she’s lashing out. It’s probably not personal, you know? More about her than you.’
His hand squeezed hers. ‘Thanks, love. I’m glad you’re here.’ He gave a little laugh. ‘The A-Team back together again.’
She laughed with him, remembering the fun they used to have on their adventures when she was a child, pretending they were on a covert operation stalking the bad guys. ‘I could use some help from the A-Team to get Mia back.’ Her face fell as her predicament forced its way back into her mind, and she groaned, letting go of his hand. ‘What am I going to do, Dad? Nobody will listen to me.’
Frank picked up his mug again, took a slurp of tea. ‘What do you want to do? What do you think is happening?’
She ran her hands through her hair as she organised her thoughts. ‘Right, well, this is where I’m up to…’ Frank gave her a nod of encouragement.
‘I can’t get past the idea that Dean is behind all this. When you think about it, he has the most to gain from me being out of the house.’
Franked frowned but stayed quiet.
Becca took a sip of her tea, readying herself to admit that she’d been putting a gloss on the reality of her life. ‘I’ve messed up big time, Dad.’ She hesitated, not sure how complete her disclosure should be. ‘You remember Connor? The guy I was with in Australia?’ Frank’s frown deepened. ‘He popped up on social media, so we started chatting and… Oh God, this sounds so bad, but I felt like he was the only person I could talk to, so I told him all my troubles and then Dean found the conversation.’
She cringed.
Frank’s eyebrows inched up his forehead.
‘Well, he was fuming and I felt I had to explain myself. Then… well, I told him about what happened before I went to Australia. I hadn’t told him all the details before because it didn’t seem relevant. It was in the past, wasn’t it? Anyway, as soon as I told him, his whole attitude changed.’ She studied her fingernails, furiously picking at the cuticles. ‘I gave him a gift, a piece of information that he then used to get the safeguarding team worried about me. Goodness knows what else he’s said.’
Frank put his tea down and blew out a long breath. ‘Well, I can see why Dean wouldn’t be happy if you’d been talking to your ex. There’s only one reason why Connor would get in touch. Some people find it hard to let old loves go. They think they can go back and rekindle things. Really, it’s no wonder Dean was jealous.’
‘It was only talking, Dad. And I was just venting. It was like talking to myself – Connor’s in Australia, on the other side of the world – but Dean saw all the things I was unhappy with and I suppose it really hurt.’ Her cheeks burnt with a sudden flush of shame, wondering if her situation would be different if she’d never written down what was on her mind. The weight of her problems made her head feel heavy and she leant her elbows on the table, her chin cupped in her hands. ‘Anyway, it’s done now. I think this is Dean lashing out, but he doesn’t understand the implications of putting doubts in those people’s minds. It’s a legal process and getting out of it is not going to be easy.’
‘You could have spoken to me if you had problems,’ Frank said, gently, a note of hurt in his voice. ‘You know I’ve always got your back.’
‘I tried telling you, and you more or less said I was fussing, remember? Then when I tried to talk to Ruth about it, to see if she might be giving Mia something she was intolerant to, you got all cross with me and took her side. You definitely thought I was being unreasonable.’
Frank sighed. ‘Yes, well, I’m sorry if I didn’t come over as sympathetic. And thanks for being honest with me.’ He finished his tea and leant across the table to rub her shoulder. ‘Let’s try and be positive about all this and see what we can do.’
Becca’s mind was racing now, making links that she hadn’t understood before. Her thoughts led her to a new scenario that brought a chill to her skin.
‘Oh my God, Dad. I’ve not been thinking straight. Mia isn’t safe, is she?’
Frank stroked his chin as he thought. ‘Hmm. If Dean’s responsible, and your theory’s right, then she probably is. My bet is this will all stop and that will make you look even more like the guilty party.’
‘But if it isn’t Dean? Then whoever’s doing it might carry on.’
‘We can only take things one step at a time, love.’ Frank got up. ‘Right, I’ve got jobs to do. Can’t have that sister of yours on at me again. There’s a pile of stuff she wanted me to take to the tip. I’ll only be half an hour. Then we can go for a walk, see if that clears our heads. Maybe find somewhere to go for lunch. How about that?’
‘Okay, sounds good.’ But she had no intention of going out for lunch. She had more important things to do.
27
Becca drove to her house but kept going past when she saw Dean’s car in the drive, Alice’s red Mini, with the white stripe down the middle, parked behind it.
Very cosy, Becca thought, teeth grinding. As far as Becca was aware, Alice had never been to their new house and it seemed quite a coincidence that she should turn up now.
She needed somewhere to watch and wait, maybe get some photos of the two of them together so he couldn’t deny it. Their house backed on to the golf course, and she parked in an estate further up the road then walked back. With a pair of birdwatching binoculars in her hands and her phone in her pocket, she was ready to take snaps should the opportunity arise.
At the rear of their property, a metre-wide gap had been left between a bank planted with an evergreen hedge and the garden fence, designed to give the houses more privacy from the golfers. The fence was made of slatted uprights, with narrow gaps between; perfect for spying without being seen. She walked along until she was opposite the bifold doors that spanned the kitchen and dining area and would, she hoped, give her a clear view into most of the downstairs.
Unfortunately, the glare of the sun meant she couldn’t see anything – only a fleeting shadow, which was gone before she could work exactly what she’d seen. She cursed under her breath. Even when she changed position and moved further along the fence, then back the other way, there seemed to be no vantage point that would give her a proper view.
It felt unsavoury, lurking behind the fence. Snooping. Her anger grew inside her, a small voice getting louder and louder until she could ignore it no longer. Why should I creep about? This is my house! She hurried out of the golf course and back down the road, glad to see both cars still in the driveway. Perfect, she thought as she pulled her keys from her pocket. She’d catch them unawares. Then there could be no excuses.
As quietly as she could, she put her key in the lock and let herself into the house, closing the door behind her with the faintest of clicks. She stopped in the
hall and listened. Talking. Upstairs.
With her jaw clamped tight, she crept up the stairs, her phone in her hand, ready to take compromising pictures. Surely, there was only one reason they’d be upstairs. She crept along the landing, stopping outside the master bedroom, listening. But that’s not where the voices were coming from, and when she carefully pushed the door open and peeped inside, she saw it was empty.
The spare bedroom was next door and now she could tell that’s where they were. With her heart hammering in her chest, she inched along the wall until she was next to the door. It wasn’t fully closed, and she could hear their conversation.
‘There’s not enough,’ Alice said. ‘We need at least ten more.’
‘Let me have a look in the garage. I think I put some in there a week or so ago when Becca had me clearing this room out.’ Before Becca could move, Dean appeared in the doorway, fully clothed, doing a double take when he saw her, his mouth falling open.
‘Becca! What are you doing here?’
She froze, her mind going into freefall, and all she could do was stare back at him, a flush of heat rushing through her body.
Alice appeared in the doorway. She looked at Dean, then Becca. ‘Tell you what, I’ll take these shirts. You see if you can find any more and call me later, okay? I’m staying over with Ross, so it’ll be easy enough to come and pick them up.’
She disappeared back into the bedroom and came out with a cardboard box in her arms. ‘We’ve got a tournament tomorrow,’ she said to Becca, her cheeks pink, obviously uncomfortable at being found upstairs in her business partner’s house. ‘I just needed to pick up some shirts.’ She flicked a glance at Dean. ‘I hope you two get everything sorted out soon. He’s been hopeless recently.’