In The Dark

by Vikki Patis

  The knock comes again and I shake myself. I open the door to find Caitlyn standing there, her fist raised as if to knock again.

  ‘Oh,’ she says, as if she is surprised to see me.

  ‘Hello. Is everything all right?’

  Something passes over her face and her mouth twists as if she is in pain. ‘Well, no, actually. Can I come in?’

  I step back and she enters, following me into the living room where she perches on the sofa, her hands clasped between her knees.

  ‘Has something happened?’ I ask, sitting down opposite. ‘Is Izzy all right?’

  ‘She’s fine. Did you know she’s dropped the charges?’

  My eyes widen in surprise. ‘No. Why would she do that? The police haven’t agreed, have they?’

  Caitlyn takes a deep breath. ‘They said there’s little to go on.’

  ‘Oh.’ I am silent for a moment, wondering what this means for Seb. Maybe he can move on now. Maybe they both can.

  ‘I just, I wanted to ask. Did you leave some flowers on my doorstep again? Today?’

  I blink, surprised at the question. ‘No. I only did that the once.’

  She sighs, a deep, heavy sigh so full of emotion that it seems to fill the room. ‘Someone left a bouquet today,’ she says, fumbling in her pocket. ‘They sent this.’

  I take the folded card from her hand and open it, reading the words inside. HAPPY LAST BIRTHDAY, BITCH. I sit back, the words hitting me like a blow.

  ‘Who would send something like this?’ I ask, passing it back to her, my fingers tingling as if it has burned me. ‘You can’t imagine I would do this?’

  She shakes her head, her lips pursed. ‘Not you. But maybe–’

  ‘Seb?’ I feel my cheeks flush with indignation. ‘No. Seb would never do such a thing.’

  ‘Where is he today?’ she asks, looking around the room as if he is hiding beneath the plant pot. ‘At school?’

  ‘Of course he is at school,’ I snap. ‘Where else would he be?’

  ‘I saw him the other day, in town. He wasn’t in uniform.’

  I stand then, anger rising at the gall of this woman. First, she thinks Seb had something to do with her daughter taking that photo, now she wants to accuse him of sending vile messages hidden inside a bouquet? ‘He is at school,’ I repeat. ‘Where he is every weekday. And I think you need to leave.’

  Caitlyn rises, and I take in her neat ponytail, her perfectly shaped eyebrows. She must be around the same age as me, I realise. I wonder what she is seeing: a frumpy, middle-aged woman with greying hair and too many wrinkles. My council house with the old, worn carpet I can’t afford to replace and windows I haven’t cleaned in a while. The differences between us adds to the anger bubbling up inside me. The haves and the have-nots. I’d never noticed it before, not really, but now it is like an additional person in the room, a presence standing between us.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she says, her eyes meeting mine. ‘But I think you need to have a chat with Seb. I know it’s difficult, going through a break-up, but Izzy has made her decision.’

  ‘A break-up?’ I echo, confusion seeping through. ‘What do you mean? Has he broken up with Izzy?’

  ‘Izzy broke up with Seb,’ she says slowly, something like pity in her eyes. ‘Before she moved away. Didn’t he tell you?’

  I spend the entire shift at work thinking about what Caitlyn said, the look in her eyes as she realised that Seb had in fact not told me about the break-up. Why would he keep something like that from me? Then again, I haven’t asked about Izzy lately. I’d assumed it would take some getting used to, her moving away, but once his exams are over and he passes his driving test, he could go and visit during school holidays. Or perhaps I’d thought it would simply fizzle out, as so many teenage relationships do. Izzy is a lovely girl, always polite when she visited, offering to make me a cup of tea, but I don’t suppose I’d imagined them staying together forever.

  That explains why Jodie is back on the scene. Seb is vulnerable at the moment, and she has pounced on him. But what could she possibly want from him?

  When I leave work, I try to phone Seb, but it goes to voicemail. I try again and leave a message. ‘Seb, it’s Nan. Ring me back please.’ I want to go home to check if he’s there, but I need to go over to Mum’s.

  I pocket my phone, trying to squash down my concerns. Seb is fine. He must have had to do something in town that day before school, maybe pick up a birthday card for Izzy. Or send a bunch of flowers. I knock the voice away, horrified. No. Seb wouldn’t do something like that. He’s a kind, loving young man who would never hurt a fly, even if he is smarting from a break-up. He’s a good boy, isn’t he?

  53

  Seb

  Seb is in the kitchen washing up when Liv gets home that evening. She dumps her handbag on the table and sighs.

  ‘All right?’ he asks when he turns to face her. She looks exhausted, dark circles hanging beneath her eyes. Has he caused this? Has he been keeping her up at night, worming his way into her dreams?

  ‘Yeah fine, love. Just tired.’ She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

  ‘There’s some salad left over,’ he says, nodding toward the fridge. ‘I cooked some chicken too.’

  ‘That’s nice,’ she says, moving towards the kettle. ‘Thanks, love.’

  ‘How’s Granny?’ he asks, realising he hasn’t asked after her in a while. ‘Any more streaking incidents?’ He tries to inject some humour into his words, but they fall flat. He feels the distance between them, a distance that had not existed before all of this started, and guilt needles at him. He is to blame for this, at least.

  ‘She’s fine,’ Liv says after a moment, flicking the kettle on and opening the fridge for the milk. She doesn’t turn to face him when she speaks again. ‘I didn’t know you and Izzy broke up. Why didn’t you tell me?’

  Seb leans against the door frame, hands in his pockets. ‘No biggie,’ he lies. He can see her face in profile, sees her pursing her lips, knows there will be more.

  ‘She’s dropped the charges. Did you know?’ Her words hit him like a blow. He shakes his head, bewildered. Why hadn’t Izzy told him? ‘So I suppose that’s one less thing to worry about,’ she says, filling her mug with hot water.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Liv glances at him, an expression he can’t read on her face. ‘Just that,’ she says evenly. ‘You don’t need to worry about it anymore. The police coming here, questioning you. And you can start going back to school.’ She raises an eyebrow. ‘I know you haven’t been going, Seb. And I’ve no doubt it’s got something to do with that Jodie. She’s bad news.’

  ‘She’s had a hard time,’ he says, annoyed at her attitude. She doesn’t even know Jodie, not really.

  ‘Hmm,’ Liv says, turning back to finish making her tea. ‘I don’t want any more trouble, Seb. I just want you to do well at school and focus on your future. Whatever that may be,’ she adds quietly.

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ he demands. His fuse is so short these days, but why does his nan insist on nit-picking all the time? She doesn’t speak, and he feels his annoyance tip over to anger. ‘I knew it. You don’t believe me. You don’t believe in me. Do you really think I had anything to do with what happened to Izzy? She took that photo, and then she dumped me and ran off to Plymouth. It wasn’t my fault.’ His nan shakes her head, her mouth opening to speak, but he continues, his voice rising. ‘You think I’m just like him, don’t you? Sins of the father.’ She stares at him open-mouthed as he slams his fist on the table. ‘You’ve been waiting for it, haven’t you? Waiting for him to show himself in me.’

  ‘Hold on,’ she begins, but he cuts her off.

  ‘He’s paid the price for what he did,’ Seb says. ‘He’s sorry.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Liv scoffs. ‘Because that’s going to bring my daughter back.’

  ‘She was my mother!’ he shouts, losing control of his barely restrained emotions. ‘I lost just as much as you did! More
, in fact. I lost both of my parents.’

  ‘And only one of them was to blame!’ Liv says, raising her voice. She folds her arms over her chest, glaring at him. ‘He murdered her in cold blood.’ She stops, taking a deep breath before continuing, her voice lower now. ‘You will not go down the same road as him. I won’t allow it.’

  Seb takes a step forward, suddenly realising that he towers over his nan, his recent growth spurt putting him a few inches taller than her. He sees her eyes widen as he glares at her. ‘I knew it. I knew it.’ And then he turns, storming out of the room and along the hallway.

  ‘That’s it, run to Jodie! Like she’s got a bright future ahead of her,’ Liv shouts as he grabs his jacket from the hook. ‘Get back here! You’re grounded!’

  He turns then, looks her in the eye, sees the fear and frustration in her face. ‘You have no idea,’ he says, quietly now, almost sad, before closing the door behind him.

  Seb walks fast, his limbs trembling with emotion. He has never spoken to his nan like that, never raised his voice at her. He has never felt the need to, not even when she took away his toys or told him off for being naughty. She has always been fair, with endless patience, and he always knew she was on his side. But not this time. This time they are set against one another, on opposite sides, and a crack is appearing between them.

  And it is all because he cannot tell her the truth. He cannot tell her what he did to Sian, and what he found in her room. He has been thinking about it since he saw it and realised what it meant. The pieces are slotting together now; he knows that he has been heading in the wrong direction, has lost his way, but he is on the right track now.

  He walks with purpose, his feet pounding against the concrete, to where he knows she will be.

  54

  Izzy

  The journey seems shorter this time, or perhaps it is because she is dreading her return, anxious about seeing her mum in person for the first time in weeks. Will she notice the changes Izzy has made? Will she see this new and improved version, or just see the flaws she has always known?

  Miranda is listening to an audiobook, the soft tones of the narrator almost enough to calm Izzy’s nerves as the countryside flashes by. Devon, then Somerset, then Wiltshire. How many counties separate her from her old life? How many miles does she have to travel to get away from it all? And now she’s going back. Can this new Izzy cope better? Can she ignore the whispers and the worried looks her mother flashes her way?

  She remembers her conversation with Chloe in the toilet, the mention of the photo. They wouldn’t really share it again, with her new friends? Not after the police were involved. But I dropped the case, she thinks, suddenly frustrated with herself. I could have told them everything, and then maybe it would have stopped. Maybe it would have got worse.

  What if she sees them while she’s in Hertford? She cannot bear the thought, feels sick at the idea of facing them again. It’s only two days, she reminds herself. Two nights in her old bedroom, staring at the mirror she took that photo in. I’ll cover it up, she decides. Throw a blanket over it like a Victorian house in mourning. And she feels a little better after that.

  There is a crash on the M25, a three-car pile-up on the other side of the road that, for some reason, slows down their side too. ‘What do you reckon,’ Miranda says, slowing down and peering at the accident, ‘on their phone?’

  ‘Boozy lunch,’ Izzy offers. Miranda smiles and they drive on.

  On the driveway, before Izzy can even dig her key out of her bag, the front door is flung wide and Caitlyn rushes out, her arms open. Izzy steps into them, surprised to find she has missed these hugs, now that she is encased in one. She glances back at Miranda, who is still sitting behind the wheel. Caitlyn follows her gaze and moves away, bending to speak through the open window.

  ‘Miranda,’ Izzy hears her mother say. ‘Lovely to meet you at last. Thanks for bringing her home.’

  Something flickers over Miranda’s face before she smiles. ‘My pleasure. I’m staying at the golf club in Broxbourne,’ she says. ‘Thought I’d treat myself to a little spa weekend. So I’m not far away.’ This she directs to Izzy, who nods.

  ‘How lovely,’ Caitlyn murmurs, stepping away.

  Izzy hears movement behind her and turns to see Michael coming out of the house. He claps a hand on her shoulder and gives a ‘Hello, you,’ before walking over to the car and sticking his hand through the open window. ‘Miranda? Michael. Nice to meet you.’ He glances at the back seat. ‘Is the suitcase in the boot?’

  ‘I just brought this,’ Izzy says, lifting her weekend bag. ‘I didn’t think I’d need much.’

  There is a pause, a ripple in the air around them before Caitlyn smiles.

  ‘Of course. We’ve only got you for a few days!’ She turns to go, reaching out and wrapping an arm around Izzy.

  ‘See you on Sunday,’ Miranda calls, and Izzy nods.

  ‘Hang on,’ Michael says. ‘Aren’t you coming with us, Miranda?’

  ‘With us?’ Izzy echoes. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘Out for dinner, of course. Mum’s booked a table.’

  ‘For the four of us, darling,’ Caitlyn says, and Izzy glances at her. She never calls Michael darling anymore.

  ‘I’m sure the restaurant can find a spare chair,’ Michael says, turning back to Miranda. ‘You must be starved, after that long drive. How about it?’

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude,’ Miranda says.

  ‘Nonsense!’ Michael says chummily. ‘You’d be most welcome, isn’t that right, darling?’

  Izzy feels her mother stiffen, her fingers tightening around Izzy’s upper arm. Nobody speaks for a moment, Miranda looking between them all, unsure how to respond.

  ‘But of course,’ Caitlyn says finally. ‘Of course you should join us, Miranda. It would be lovely to get to know you better.’

  Izzy is in her room, her still-packed bag dumped on the floor by her bed. The room has been cleaned, all the detritus she’d left lying around tidied away into drawers, with not a speck of dust in sight. The carpet has deep vacuum lines carved into it; Izzy prods at one with her toe, her mind focused on the pyjamas her mother must have laid out on her pillow, not realising that it was Seb who bought them for her. She fingers the pair of light-blue shorts with white polka dots, smiles at the cat on the front of the oversized shirt, lying above the words FELINE SLEEPY. She’d picked them out from the reduced section in Primark and he had paid for them, calling it a Valentine’s gift, though they’d said they wouldn’t bother.

  ‘It’s all overpriced chocolate and glittery cards that pollute the planet,’ she’d said, but secretly she’d liked him buying her a gift. She’d never had one before, had never found a card hidden in her schoolbag or lying on the mat when she got home from school. And besides, she’d reasoned, pyjamas are a useful gift. Flowers wilt, chocolates get eaten or otherwise spoil. These she would wear until they faded, or they no longer fit.

  And yet she had left them here, shoved to the bottom of a drawer, the memory too painful to remember. But now she is here, she realises that she should speak to him, try to explain everything. She owes him that much, at least.

  ‘Izzy!’ Caitlyn calls, and Izzy stands, taking a deep breath before approaching the mirror. She fluffs out her hair, runs a finger under each eye, and straightens her outfit. She is wearing tapered green trousers covered with leaves, and a black, short-sleeved top. She looks good. She smiles, trying to make it reach her eyes, and gives her reflection a nod before leaving the room.

  ‘Sizzy!’ Alicia’s arms wrap around her as soon as she reaches the ground floor. She hugs her sister back. ‘I’ve missed you!’

  ‘I’ve only been gone four weeks,’ Izzy says with a laugh. ‘You’re always away for longer.’

  ‘It’s all right when you’re not the one left behind.’ Alicia pulls away and stares at Izzy’s face. ‘You look different,’ she says seriously, and this time, Izzy knows her smile reaches her eyes.

 
‘Are we ready?’ Michael says, coming out of the kitchen, swirling his car keys around on one finger. ‘You haven’t blocked me in, have you, Alicia?’

  ‘Yes, Mike,’ Alicia says, rolling her eyes. ‘And no, Mike.’ Izzy stifles a giggle. Michael hates being called Mike. She suddenly feels warm inside, and she is happy to be carried along on this wave. It’s her birthday, after all. She deserves to celebrate.

  ‘Right,’ Caitlyn says, bustling into the hallway and slipping into her shoes. ‘Shall we go?’

  ‘You look nice, Mum,’ Izzy says as they leave the house.

  Caitlyn throws her a smile. ‘Thank you, sweetie. You do too.’

  ‘Those trousers are loud,’ Alicia says, poking Izzy in the ribs as she passes. ‘Can you hear me over them?’

  ‘What?’ Izzy replies, and Alicia sticks out her tongue. They squash into the back seat of Michael’s car, reminding Izzy of when they were younger and they would listen to music on shared earphones, the cord dangling between them. She tries to hold on to these happier memories, and not the one when Caitlyn crashed the car, the sisters strapped into the back, the smell of petrol and vodka filling the air.

  55

  Caitlyn

  I find myself smiling for the entire journey to the restaurant. While we wait at the level crossing, Michael reaches out and squeezes my hand, and I feel a rush of love. My girls are home. We are a family again.

  Miranda is waiting in the car park, a cloud of smoke hanging above her head. She hits a button on the device she’s holding and tucks it into her pocket when she sees us pull up.