‘She tells me you’re definitely selling up.’
‘Yes, we’ve had valuations for the house and now we just need to choose an estate agent. The business side will take a bit longer but that’s in train too.’
‘You’re doing the right thing,’ Eve says as she looks about the room for Meg’s ghost. ‘It can’t be easy living here.’
‘On the contrary, it’s leaving that’s going to be tough. For some this might be the house that Meg died in, but for me it’s where she lived.’
Eve offers me a tight smile. ‘I can understand that,’ she says. ‘It’s only natural to cling onto what you’ve lost, and I can see how Jen does the same. It’s not good for her, Ruth. You must know she can’t fill the hole Meg left in your life, no matter how hard you try.’
I blink hard, taken aback by her accusation. ‘I didn’t realise I was.’
‘I’m sure you don’t mean to,’ Eve says, ignoring my tone. ‘But I think it’s obvious to all of us that the only reason Jen hasn’t been able to find her place in the world is because she’s too busy trying to fill her cousin’s shoes. They don’t fit. Jennifer was never like Meg and no one can pretend she is.’
‘You think I want Jen to be a replacement Meg?’
‘I wouldn’t have put it so bluntly.’
‘I think you just did,’ I say, anger blooming in my already sore head. ‘It’s not a numbers game, Eve. You don’t take one away, add another, and suddenly you’re back at the same number you started with. It doesn’t work like that, and I can promise you that if you lost Jen, the pain would be as deep and as cutting, no matter how many daughters you had in reserve.’
Eve closes her eyes. ‘I’d prefer not to imagine it.’
‘Well, maybe you should,’ I reply. ‘Because I bet if you asked Jen, she’d say you wouldn’t miss her half as much as the others. So if we’re giving out advice on parenthood, I suggest you stop being disappointed that she’s not a cardboard cut-out of her sisters and start appreciating her for who she is.’ As soon as the words leave my mouth, I know I’ve gone too far but I’ve been dreaming of saying this for too long to keep it back.
Eve bristles but she doesn’t hit back in the way I’m expecting. ‘And how exactly do I do that when she won’t speak to me, Ruth?’
She waits for a response but I can’t give her one. I’ve listened to Jen complain about her mum often enough and she has my sympathy. It’s never crossed my mind to encourage my niece to build a better relationship with her mum. Jen resents Eve for coming between her and Meg. So do I.
‘I appreciate I can be overbearing at times,’ Eve continues, ‘but I love all my daughters equally. If I try too hard, it’s because I made a concerted effort not to be like my mum. Now there was a woman who didn’t appreciate her children.’
Geoff’s mum had died a year before Meg, and I don’t think there was a single tear shed at her funeral. Eve isn’t the first mother to overcompensate for the maternal love lacking in her own childhood – and perhaps I did see Jen’s preference for my family as an endorsement of my maternal abilities over my sister-in-law’s. What do they say about pride coming before a fall?
Guilt cools my anger but it’s not completely spent. ‘Just so we’re clear, Jen is not and never could be a replacement for Meg.’
‘I know, I shouldn’t have said that,’ Eve says as she wrestles with guilt of her own. ‘I’m worried about my daughter, that’s all. That TV interview of yours raked up the past and she hasn’t been the same since. I’m not daft, I know she thinks things would have worked out differently if I’d let her move in here.’
‘If we’re being honest, and it looks like we are, I often think the same.’
‘Different isn’t necessarily better, or at least not better for everyone,’ Eve says as a shadow crosses her face. ‘I stand by the decision I took at the time but I do have some regrets.’
‘If we’re looking to apportion blame, I’d say there are plenty of other people ahead of you in that particular queue.’
‘That’s what I’ve been saying to Jen.’ When Eve drops her gaze and fiddles with her fingers, I can only presume it was my name that was mentioned. ‘But I did know there was something not right about Meg at that party you had in Thornton Hall. I should have spoken up. You might have handled her better.’
I rub my temples. I don’t need Eve telling me where I went wrong, especially not at the moment. I’m wrestling with enough demons from the past. ‘It’s more important what happens going forward, don’t you think?’ I ask. ‘We both want what’s best for Jen, so tell me, what do you want from me, Eve?’
‘Will you speak to her? Remind her that I’m still her mum?’
35
Ruth
As Jen and I walk shoulder to shoulder along the Strand, I could mention her mother’s visit yesterday but it’s a distraction neither of us need. Our minds are crowded enough with last minute doubts about what we’re about to do.
‘Are you feeling OK?’ Jen asks as we turn into Liverpool One and John Lewis’s store front comes into view.
‘Not really,’ I admit. ‘How about you?’
‘I’m much calmer than I was last time I did this,’ she says with a smile that I can’t attempt to match.
Jen continues to astound me. For a child who once refused to walk on the stepping stones in Sefton Park for fear of falling in the lake and being swept out to sea, she has shown more grit than the rest of us. She has been the one to face Lewis’s wrath time and again and I can only presume he picks on her because he thinks I’m beaten. He’ll think differently after today.
‘It might be a good idea to split up once we get inside,’ Jen continues. ‘Iona will run for cover when she sees us so we’ll need to trap her in a pincer movement.’
‘And then what?’
None of this is rehearsed. The last time Jen did this, we were all under the misapprehension that Iona was the one being abused. In some ways, the reality is more disturbing. We’re not about to help a young woman recognise that her boyfriend’s behaviour is unacceptable; we have to convince an unsuspecting girlfriend that the man she loves is a monster, and we’re going to attempt to do that in a very public place.
‘We can only speak to her,’ Jen says. ‘And if she doesn’t want to listen, at least she takes away a very clear message to Lewis that we haven’t gone away. He doesn’t need to know this is our parting shot.’
I unbutton my coat and take a deep breath. ‘For Meg,’ I whisper.
‘For Meg,’ Jen repeats as we step through the doors. She nods for me to take the left-hand side of the store while she keeps to the right.
As I circle the outer limits of the gift section, I try to keep Jen in my sights but the escalators block my view. I pass the paperweights and glassware and begin weaving my way through Halloween displays with pumpkin-shaped chocolates and bottles of gin wrapped in spider web. I almost overlook the shop assistant crouching down to restock shelves. She has her back to me but Jen has shared the photo from Facebook and this girl has the right shade of hair. As I enter the narrow aisle, Jen appears at the opposite end.
We glance briefly at each other as we wait for Iona to finish what’s she’s doing. When she straightens up, she sees Jen first and takes a step back only to bump into me. She turns and her hand flies to her throat. ‘Oh, Jesus, what is this?’
‘I don’t … I really am sorry,’ I stammer. We’ve convinced ourselves that there’s nothing left for us to lose but what if we’re wrong? Iona is young and, despite her blazing green eyes, she’s fragile. Lewis could break her.
‘We need to talk properly this time,’ Jen says, resting a hand on a shelf so her arm is extended, blocking one exit should Iona decides to bolt.
I choose a less aggressive stance and open my arms. ‘Please, if we don’t do this now, we’ll only come back again.’
Iona presses her back against the display unit so she can keep both of us in her sights. ‘Not if I get an injunction,’ she threatens.
‘Lewis has already checked what we need to do.’
‘He’s spoken to the police?’ asks Jen.
‘He’s spoken to his solicitor.’
Jen raises an eyebrow. ‘You mean his friend. I told you he wouldn’t go to the police. You might not see it yet but he’s hiding what he is from you,’ she says. ‘You won’t see the real Lewis until he has you trapped.’
‘Do you ever stop to listen to yourself?’ Iona asks. ‘Your cousin died and you’d rather blame anyone except yourselves. After ten years, it’s getting a bit tedious.’
‘Is that what Lewis told you?’ I ask, pulling Iona’s attention back to me. ‘Of course I blame myself. I should have seen what was happening and if I’m being honest, I did, but I ignored all the signs because I didn’t want to believe it. My daughter was a fiery ball of energy from the minute she was born and I didn’t think anyone could contain her, not even Lewis.’
‘Exactly,’ Iona says as if she knows Meg intimately. ‘She was out of control when he met her. He didn’t hurt her, she was already damaged.’
‘You’re wrong,’ Jen says. ‘He did things to her that changed her into someone I didn’t recognise. I saw some of what he did, but like Ruth, I thought Meg could fight back.’
‘It’s prejudice, that’s what it is,’ Iona says, looking to me. ‘You knew he had a tough upbringing and you didn’t want your precious daughter associating with a thug. He’s no thug, Mrs McCoy.’
‘I wanted to believe that too. I admired his mum for what she did for him, but Lewis must have had it in him from the start. It was too late.’
‘If you had any respect for his mum, you wouldn’t be doing this. We had to move her into a hospice last week, did you know that?’ Iona asks. ‘She doesn’t know what’s been going on since that interview you gave, and that was bad enough. God knows what it would do to her if she knew the rest. She’s proud of her boy, as am I, and nothing you can say will convince us otherwise.’ She turns to Jen. ‘He hasn’t gone to the police because he actually feels sorry for you. So if you want to have a word with anyone, have one with yourself. I’ve heard enough.’
‘No, you haven’t,’ Jen replies. ‘He hasn’t stopped preying on women, Iona. He’s just got better at hiding it. When I came looking for you the other day, I thought you were someone else.’
‘Oh, really. And who exactly did you think I was?’
Jen glances around before she begins. The store is busy but thankfully no one is particularly interested in the Halloween displays at the moment. ‘I thought you were the vulnerable young woman I’ve been talking to on the helpline. She believed, like you, that she’d met someone who would look after her, until he started abusing her.’
Jen leaves a pause so that Iona can digest the information before dismissing it, and she will dismiss it.
‘He says it’s her own fault,’ Jen continues. ‘She reminds him too much of Meg and he’s compelled to do to her what he did to Meg. Afterwards, he begs forgiveness and makes her promise not to tell, but she did tell. She told me exactly what Lewis has been doing to her.’
Iona shakes her head. ‘If you claim to know so much about her, why did you mistake me for her? What’s her name? Where does she live? When and where did Lewis meet her – allegedly?’ she asks, firing off each question when she sees Jen can’t answer the one before. ‘Is that it? Can I go now?’
‘We’re only trying to protect you,’ I say.
‘No, you’re out for revenge.’
‘Revenge for what?’ Jen asks quickly. ‘Do you think he’s guilty of something?’
There’s a flicker of something in Iona’s eyes. She’s uncomfortable.
‘I bet you’ve seen his temper,’ Jen says. ‘He might not take his anger out on you but that could be because he’s taking it out on someone else.’
‘He goes to the gym.’
‘Oh, Iona,’ I say. ‘You know what we’re saying is true, don’t you?’
Iona looks to me and Jen in turn, sizing us up as she works out which of us she should shove past. ‘This is ridiculous,’ she says, her voice wobbling.
‘He chokes her,’ Jen says in a hushed whisper that’s almost lost in the hustle and bustle of the store. ‘He used Meg’s scarves as gags at first but when she wouldn’t keep quiet, he started choking her with them. I know this because it’s what he does to Ellie.’
‘I don’t know who this Ellie is, but she has nothing to do with me, or Lewis.’
‘Ellie is the girl he’s been abusing,’ Jen says. ‘And one way or another she’s going to get away from him, which begs the question, who will he turn to next? I’m sorry about his mum but how do you think your relationship will change when she’s gone? Who’s going to be around to see your bruises? Who’s going to speak up for you when Lewis takes away your voice?’
‘This isn’t fair.’ Iona’s lips are trembling now, and I feel utterly wretched.
‘No, it isn’t,’ Jen agrees. She dares to look at me before she asks Iona one final question. ‘Has he ever bought you silk scarves?’
‘Stop it,’ Iona pleads before turning to me. ‘He loves me, Mrs McCoy. We’ve talked about getting married. There’s no one else for him. There never was.’
‘There was Meg,’ I remind her as I slip my hand into my bag. I’ve brought along a collection of leaflets from Women’s Aid and Refuge that give details of all the support they can offer, plus information sheets from the Lean On Me website that include a checklist so Iona can work out for herself if she’s in a healthy relationship or not, but I leave them in my bag. There’s only one voice left that might be able to get through to Iona and it’s Meg’s.
I pull out an envelope that contains photocopies of two yellow lined pages from Meg’s notepad. ‘In here are the only clues we have as to why Meg took her life,’ I explain as I offer the envelope to Iona. ‘One is the remnant of the suicide note we found on the day she died. It doesn’t say much because whoever was there with her destroyed the rest.’
Iona puts her hands behind her back, refusing to take the envelope. ‘I’ve looked up her inquest on Google. There was no proof that happened.’
‘That’s why there’s another sheet of paper in here. I only found it recently but I think it’s quite telling, more so when you consider what we’ve told you about Ellie. These are my daughter’s words. Please, take them.’
‘If I do, will you go away?’
‘If you promise to read them, yes, we will.’
I step aside when Iona takes the envelope and she slips past with her head down. I carry on looking, long after she disappears from sight.
‘We’ve done all we can,’ Jen says, putting her hand on my arm.
‘I know,’ I reply. ‘But we may never find out if it’s been enough.’
36
Jen
I know there’s nothing more to be done. Time ran out for my best friend and I feel it trickling away from Ellie too. Today will be my last ever shift on the helpline and I don’t know how I’m going to feel when it’s over. There’s talk of going out for a meal on Friday when the lines close for good but nothing has been arranged. None of the volunteers share the relief Charlie spoke of and there’s no appetite for celebration.
As I flick through the morning mail, I search for a thick cream envelope to match the one Ruth received after her TV interview, but if Lewis is planning fresh legal action, he’s taking his time. My legs are jiggling under the desk. I’ve geared myself up for a fight and I need something to happen.
To counter my frustration, I’ve been using my present state of restlessness to forge on with plans for a new career. I have no intention of staying here when Ruth and Geoff retire, which could be soon, judging by the way Oscar Armitage has made himself at home in their office. I watch as he leans back in a visitor’s chair with his legs spread wide and his hands behind his head. I do not want to work for that man.
One of the jobs I’ve applied for is an admin post in a hospice. It’s only part time but that’s ide
al if I’m going to study to be a counsellor. There’s a foundation course that starts in January and I’ve accepted Ruth’s generous offer to fund my training. All I have to do now is convince Charlie to put his plans for a house and kids on hold so we can afford my drop in salary. The more I think about becoming a counsellor, the more I want it.
What I don’t want is to be doing this, I tell myself, as I slice open an envelope and pull out an invoice. My mind is made up further when Geoff catches my eye. He’s lifting up his mug and pointing to Oscar.
I take Oscar’s order with a sweet smile but when I return five minutes later with his coffee, he’s hunched over his seat with his phone pressed to his ear. Ruth and Geoff are doing their best not to listen in but it can’t be easy.
‘In my view, your client’s overreacting. There’s no need—’ Oscar says loudly. There’s a pause. ‘No, no, I understand. Would it help if I came to your offices? I’m in a meeting at the moment, but—’ He looks at his watch and nods. ‘Certainly. I’ll be there within the hour.’
He’s careful to readjust his features into a smile before he looks up. ‘I’m afraid I have a minor emergency with a major project. You know how it is,’ he says to Geoff. ‘Could we pick this up later? Why don’t I take you both out to dinner tonight?’
‘I’m afraid I have other plans,’ says Ruth.
‘Tomorrow would be better,’ agrees Geoff.
Oscar pulls a face. ‘My diary’s pretty full,’ he says, rubbing a temple. ‘It could be next week at this rate.’
‘Why don’t you two go ahead without me?’ Ruth suggests.
If Geoff were about to refuse, Oscar doesn’t give him a chance. He stands up and extends his hand. ‘I’ll get my PA to book a table and email you the details. Sorry, but I do have to dash.’
He shakes hands with Ruth and Geoff and manages a quick nod to me as he hurries out of the office.
‘Anyone want this coffee?’ I ask.
Geoff waves it away without taking his eyes from his wife, and I’m about to make my escape when he holds up his palm to stop me. His hand gestures are irritating and if it wasn’t Geoff, I’d give him one of my own.
Don't Turn Around Page 25