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The Chalet: the most exciting new debut crime thriller of 2020 to race through this Christmas

Page 14

by Catherine Cooper


  She nodded. ‘OK. Well hopefully we will have found your mummy by the time you wake up but if not, you’ll go and stay with a nice family until we can find her. There might be other children there for you to play with too. Does that sound OK? You won’t be left on your own with no food again either way, I promise.’

  ‘Can I take Teddy if I go to the nice family?’

  ‘Of course. He will be very welcome.’

  ‘OK then. But only until you find Mama.’

  I’d never been in an actual house before. I’d seen them on TV and I’d walked past them on the way to the shops with Mama, but I’d never been inside a real house. Our house wasn’t called a house, it was called a flat because it was flat – someone else lived on top and someone else lived underneath. Sometimes we could hear music or someone shouting from the other flats. I liked it when we could hear the other people because it felt like they were keeping me company but Mama didn’t like it when there were noises and sometimes she would put her hands over her ears and shout shut up shut up shut up so that her shouting was even louder than the noise and then I would go into a different room and sing with Teddy.

  Anna brought me to the house because they still hadn’t found Mama and she told me I was going to stay there while they looked for Mama. A lady and a man lived there and Anna said they looked after children like me whose mummy and daddy couldn’t look after them for a bit but not to keep them forever. She said it would be just like being at home and I could do all the things I usually did at home, but I could see straight away that it would be nothing like being at home. It was like the houses on the TV where there was a mummy and a daddy and other children, the curtains were open and there was even a bowl of fruit on the table.

  Anna crouched down next to me so her face was level with mine and said, ‘Now, if you’re feeling OK, I’m going to leave you here with Rhonda and Nick to show you your new room and let you get settled in. You or Rhonda can call me at any time if you have any worries or questions.’

  ‘And when will I see Mama?’ I asked. ‘If she goes back home and I’m not there she won’t know where I am.’

  ‘Don’t you worry about that – as soon as we find her we’ll let her know that you’re safe.’

  ‘And bring me home?’

  Anna paused. ‘Um – yes. Once we’re sure that she’s not too … tired to look after you properly, we’ll bring you home.’

  ‘But until then you’re going to have lots of fun here!’ Rhonda chirped. ‘Why don’t I show you your room and then you can meet your new brothers and sisters?’

  ‘I have brothers and sisters?’ I asked. I was so excited. I wasn’t sure I if wanted a brother but I’d always wanted a sister. Someone else like me to play with.

  ‘Well, that’s what we call you all here,’ Rhonda said. ‘While you’re here, you’re all family.’

  I couldn’t believe I had my very own room. It was so pretty with pink flowery curtains and a big bed with a fluffy duvet with fairies on it. The bed was a real one which was there all the time, not the kind that could be folded up like my one at home.

  There was a wardrobe and a chest of drawers but I hadn’t brought anything with me apart from Teddy. I wasn’t sure what I was going to wear tomorrow so I asked Rhonda and she said that it was OK because she could lend me a few things, but Anna was going to go to my house and get some of my clothes so that I could have my own things to help me feel at home, which seemed like a weird thing to say because I wasn’t at home. I didn’t have many clothes but I did want my bubble nightie and my favourite owl T-shirt. Most of my other clothes were too small and Mama always said that I grew very quickly and money didn’t grow on trees so sometimes I had to wait for new clothes, and I wondered if the ones that Rhonda might give me would be nicer and fit me better.

  We went back downstairs and there were some other children in the kitchen. Rhonda said: ‘Would you like to sit down and have some crumpets?’

  I said, ‘Yes, please!’ I didn’t know what crumpets were, but it was always nice to have something to eat.

  ‘This is Ben, Ryan, and Layla – your new brothers and sisters.’ Layla was very big, almost like a grown-up and the boys were a little bit older than me. ‘And there’s William,’ she added, pointing at a baby sitting in a bouncy chair on the floor.

  ‘Where’s your mum?’ Ben asked, his mouth full of chocolatey crumpet.

  ‘Ben!’ Rhonda cried, louder than I’d heard her speak so far. ‘You know we don’t ask questions like that in this house. If and when your new sister wants to talk about her family, then she will. In her own time. If not, it’s none of our business.’

  ‘My mum’s in prison,’ Ben said proudly.

  ‘I don’t know where my mama is,’ I said. ‘But she will be back soon.’

  ‘Course she will,’ muttered the big girl, ‘they all say that.’ and Rhonda said, ‘Layla! Please!’ and I didn’t know why because she wasn’t asking for anything.

  I lived with Rhonda and Nick for almost two years the first time. It was nice there. I was there the longest – other children – or brothers and sisters, as they insisted I called them, came and went. There were always other children around to play with and, once I got used to it, I liked that. I started school and I had friends there too. It was tricky at first as I didn’t know how to count or my letters or a lot of things that most other children my age already knew, but it got easier and I got special certificates to show how well I was doing all the time.

  It took them two weeks to find Mama. They found her sleeping in the street. But I didn’t go straight home with her because she didn’t go home herself to start with. Anna explained it all to me. Mama was in a special hospital and Anna would take me to see her every week. I tried to like the visits because she was still my mama, but usually they were a bit scary. Sometimes Mama would just sit in her room and not really say anything and Anna would tell her stuff about me and how I was doing at school and what I’d been doing at home, and then she’d say ‘Well, isn’t this nice?’ every few minutes when it wasn’t nice at all and I couldn’t wait to leave because it seemed like Mama wasn’t even listening.

  Other times Mama would cry, and Anna would try to hold her hand and pat her arm and stuff, and usually Mama didn’t want her to and she’d back away into a corner – those were the worst visits. And then other times she would hug me too hard and say sorry, sorry, sorry and that I deserved a better Mama than her and I didn’t like those visits either because I never knew what to say and sometimes she got snot on my clothes.

  Then Mama moved out of the hospital and into a flat which was nicer than the old flat we’d lived in and the visits got better. To start with Anna always came with me when I visited Mama but there was no crying, and often there was homemade cake and the flat was always nice and tidy and the curtains were open. Sometimes Mama would take me out to McDonald’s or to the park to feed the ducks. To start with, Anna always came but after a while she stopped coming and it was just me and Mama.

  Then one day Anna said that they thought Mama was ready to look after me again and asked how did I feel about that? I didn’t know what to say. Mama’s flat was OK and I had my own room there, but it also wasn’t as nice as it was at Rhonda’s and I knew Rhonda wouldn’t leave me alone in the house with no food. It had happened a long time ago, but I still remembered it well and it still made my tummy feel weird when I thought about it. But she was my mama and in spite of it all the biggest part of me wanted to be with her, so I said that sounded good as long as Rhonda and Anna could still be my friends and come and see me sometimes. Anna said that that would be fine and she would still be coming to see me a lot and Rhonda said that if it was OK with my mama I could even come back and stay sometimes if I wanted to or if Mama felt like she needed a bit of time by herself, and I said that I would like that very much.

  And then I went up to my room and cried. Nobody noticed.

  35

  January 2020, La Madière, France

  Hug
o

  Cameron is over again, unfortunately. Sometimes I hate owning a business. Hate having to suck up to people like him.

  ‘So what’s with the faces on everyone today?’ Cameron asks, looking around the chalet. ‘Someone died or something?’

  There is an awkward silence. Matt clears his throat. ‘Cameron, yes, I’m afraid there’s been some bad news. You didn’t hear? They found a body.’

  ‘I didn’t hear anything – I’ve only just come up from the valley. A body? Who found a body?’

  ‘A piste-basher. But they think it’s a historic death – a guy who died a long time ago and whose body was dislodged by the recent bad weather. Apparently his brother’s on the way out here to identify the body and the like.’

  ‘His brother?’ Cameron echoes, rubbing his hand across his face. ‘Right. Poor guy.’

  Matt looks at his clipboard. ‘In fact, Didier in the tourist office called me – he said he couldn’t get through to you. He wondered if you might be able to offer the brother accommodation. He thinks that, given the circumstances, the bereaved man shouldn’t have to pay to stay during his trip. Is that OK? Seems like the least we can do.’

  I continue staring at my iPad, wondering if this conversation is for my benefit. Is Matt or this guy Didier trying to make Cameron look like a nice guy so that I’ll want to do business with him? I’m never very good at working out this kind of thing. Olivia would probably know, if only she were here.

  ‘Hmm. I’m not sure,’ Cameron says. ‘It’s rather short notice. Do we even have anything spare?’

  ‘It is short notice, but I imagine there’ll be something,’ Matt says. ‘I think Chalet Alpaca is free, but I’m heading back to the office in a minute, so I’ll double-check then. And it’s always good to keep on the right side of the tourist office, wouldn’t you say?’

  Cameron sighs. ‘Yes, I guess so. OK then. We’ll do the right thing and help the poor fucker.’

  ‘So shall I suggest Chalet Alpaca, or is there somewhere else you think would be better? Though, like I say, I’d need to check what’s free,’ Matt says.

  ‘No, no, any of them will be fine, all my places are fantastic,’ Cameron says, pompously. ‘Whatever we’ve got that’s ready to go, offer him that. But make sure the press people let everyone know that I’m putting myself out for him. Otherwise there’s no point, OK?’

  ‘Yup, will do,’ Matt says, writing something down on his clipboard.

  I wonder if Matt is simply writing ‘wanker’. I hope he is. That’s what I’d be doing.

  Cameron looks out of the window. ‘That’s assuming the dead man’s brother is able to get through to the resort, of course. It’s still looking pretty bad out there. They might have to close the road.’

  The whole day is dreadful.

  I’m relieved to learn that pretty much all the lifts are closed, otherwise Simon would no doubt be trying to drag me out into the snow. Not that sitting around all day in the chalet is exactly fun, given the atmosphere. Ria is staying in her room and I don’t want to disturb her too much, the mood she’s in. Simon is sitting in the lounge, glumly staring out of the window and complaining about missing a day’s skiing. The baby is wailing intermittently, probably picking up on the gloomy atmosphere of the place. Millie checks we have everything we need before going out in an enormous coat to get the only other free chalet ready for the brother’s arrival.

  I’m not sure how I feel about Cameron’s offer – is it clever PR? Is there any altruism in the gesture at all? Or is he simply, as I suspect and as it seemed from his conversation with Matt, a callous bastard, bending a tragic situation to his own advantage?

  When I go upstairs later, Ria is either asleep or pretending to be. She’s been in our room almost all day. I sit on the edge of the bed and look at her. She’s so beautiful. With her eyes closed, breathing softly, she looks childlike. Would our daughter look like her? Then I feel a stab of anger, remembering what I found out. There’ll be no daughter while she’s taking the pill, will there?

  I put my hand gently on her ankle and she opens her eyes.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,’ I say.

  She sits up. ‘That’s OK. Listen,’ she puts her hand on top of mine. ‘I’m sorry. I should have told you about the pill. Talked to you. But I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me …’ Her eyes fill with tears. I touch her face. I’ve rarely seen her cry before.

  ‘Sshh, darling,’ I soothe, all my anger evaporating from me. ‘It’s OK. If you’re not ready, you’re not ready. And if you’re never ready, that’s OK too. You’re all I need.’ This isn’t quite true. I do want children. But if it’s a choice between no Ria and no children, I’ll take the latter. Also what I just said is the kind of thing I’ve seen people say in films to make someone stop crying, and I want Ria to stop crying.

  But it doesn’t work – she starts sobbing. ‘I’m not good enough for you, Hugo,’ she wails. ‘I’m so sorry. I’ll try to be a better person. I’ll drink less. I’ll stop taking the pill. I will, honestly. I’ll stop taking it now if you like! I’ll chuck them in the bin! Or out the window! No, not out the window, animals might eat them and go sterile … do animals live in the snow?’ She leans in to kiss me and reaches down to undo my trousers. ‘Let’s have sex now! Let’s make a baby! Don’t leave me, Hugo!’

  Normally I would never say no to Ria if she wants sex – which, let’s face it, is hardly ever these days – but I’ve never seen her like this before and she’s scaring me. I gently put my hand over hers and push it away.

  ‘Ria. Don’t be silly. Of course I’m not going to leave you. But you seem a bit … manic. Why don’t you have a sleep and we’ll talk again later?’

  She flops back on the bed, seemingly calmer now. ‘OK. Let’s do that.’ She turns her head towards me. ‘Tell me what’s happening downstairs. Is there any more news about the body they found?’

  Ah. Perhaps this is why she’s behaving so strangely. Perhaps she’s more sensitive than I give her credit for.

  ‘They think it’s a man who died a long time ago. His brother’s coming out to identify the body, apparently.’

  She nods, her eyes filling with tears again. ‘Right. What a horrible thing to have to do.’

  I take her hand. ‘Horrible. But perhaps he will be able to take comfort after all these years in having some kind of closure.’

  She takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. ‘I guess so. Maybe. But I sometimes think it’s better that what’s in the past stays in the past. Don’t you?’

  I imagine she’s talking about our row over the pills. Wanting to put it in the past. So I squeeze her hand and say, ‘Mostly yes. But that’s for him to worry about, not you. You should rest. And maybe,’ I stroke her breast gently, ‘we’ll have a go at making babies later. But only if you want to.’

  She nods and smiles weakly. ‘Yeah. Let’s do that.’

  36

  BEFORE

  To start with, it was all OK. Mama had made me a nice room in the new flat – not quite as nice as my room at Rhonda’s, but way nicer than the room we’d shared in the old flat which I still remembered a bit. It was tidy at home; there weren’t dirty dishes in the sink the whole time and there was always milk in the fridge. Mama wasn’t as good at cooking as Rhonda, but she told me she had had some cooking and ‘parenting’ lessons when she had been in the hospital where I used to visit her and now she was better at cooking than she used to be and she said she was also a lot better at parenting. I didn’t understand that – surely you either were a parent or you weren’t, but that’s what Mama said. Things had changed – I still had Weetabix every morning for breakfast, because I liked it and Mama said it was good for me, but sometimes she would also cut up a banana for me to have with it, and I never had Weetabix for other meals any more. My clothes smelt cleaner and they weren’t too small. Mama always got up in the morning and she always slept in her bed. The milk in the fridge smelt like it should do and the yoghurts didn’t go fi
zzy.

  The biggest difference was Mama now had a job, so she couldn’t stay in bed all day because she was too tired or too sad to get up. She also told me that she was taking special pills the doctor had given her so she could be less sad, and more ‘stable’, which I didn’t understand as it wasn’t as if she ever fell over, but they definitely seemed to make her happier. And I was at school every day, so we weren’t in the house all day long like before. We had a new alarm clock to wake us up and Mama had to get up to take me to school and she always did and I was almost always on time. I had lots of friends at school and the teachers said I was a good worker. I brought home pictures and other things I’d made at school and Mama would stick them on the fridge with letter magnets, like in houses on the TV. Sometimes I had a friend home to play after school and some days Mama would even make cakes for us, with icing. She was just like the mamas I saw on TV.

  Anna came to see me a lot at first, but after a while she came less and less, though she always said that I could call her whenever I liked and made sure that her number was stuck on the fridge. That was the other thing that was different, now that Mama had a job, she had enough money for us to have our own phone in the flat and I didn’t need to be scared of getting stuck inside with no food again even if Mama did go somewhere. But mainly I didn’t have to be scared because Mama didn’t leave me on my own anyway.

  Then Mama got a boyfriend. His name was Dave. He would bring me sweets and chocolate bars when he came over but even so, I didn’t like him very much. I was used to it being just me and Mama at home but when Dave came over he’d give me 50p to go to my room and even though I liked having the 50p and the sweets I didn’t like having to go to my room, but I didn’t want to say that I didn’t want to go in case it made her cry. I wondered if I should tell Anna about Dave and about having to go to my room, but I didn’t want to get Mama into trouble or be sad so I didn’t say anything.

 

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