by K. L. Slater
‘My poor baby,’ crooned Joanne, cradling Piper in her arms.
‘I never.’ Maisie raised her voice. ‘I asked her if she had a dad. That’s all.’
‘That’s not really a question you should be asking people.’ Joanne sounded like adults did when they were biting down a shout. ‘It’s really none of your business, Maisie.’
‘It was Piper who started the game,’ Maisie offered.
‘Maisie, that’s enough,’ her dad said, his voice dangerously low. ‘I think you should say you’re sorry to Piper for upsetting her.’
‘She started the horrid game, though! Asking me all sorts of questions, being nasty about what she’s got and what I haven’t. She said the necklace Gran bought me was rubbish.’ Maisie looked at her dad for support, but he just shook his head sadly.
She clamped her mouth shut. It was no good trying to make them understand how horrible Piper had been to her; she couldn’t explain it properly, couldn’t find the words to say how it made her feel inside. Like she would never be good enough.
What was so bad about asking if Piper had a dad, anyway? Everyone had a dad, didn’t they?
While everyone fussed around Piper, Maisie reached over and helped herself to a bright pink milkshake. There was heaps of whipped cream on the top with coloured sprinkles and a real strawberry that had been split and perched on the rim of the glass.
She drew the thick, sweet liquid up through the straw, closing her eyes to savour the taste.
When she opened them again, she saw that Joanne was staring at her with the strangest look on her face that made Maisie shiver even though she still had her coat on.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Emma
While Maisie is out with her dad at the cinema, I put an easy-listening playlist on Spotify, pour a glass of wine and allow myself the pure luxury of simply drifting, eyes closed, on the couch.
But it’s in that halfway house between wakefulness and sleep that the past seeps into my thoughts like wisps of poisonous gas…
It was an unusual day at Clayton and McCarthy, as the office was quiet. Quite a few of the more senior staff were attending a conference in Birmingham.
Damian announced authoritatively to the admin office that he had been left in charge for the day. ‘Mr McCarthy has asked me to allocate some case tasks that need to take precedence over anything else you might be doing.’
He picked up a piece of paper from his desk and read aloud from it.
‘OK, Andy, you’ll work with me today on witness statements; Candice, you’re to visit the court to pick up some papers. And Emma… I’ll need you to be on photocopying duties, please.’
The others glanced over at me and I felt my face ignite. This was exactly the kind of task the clerks should be dealing with. I was a legal secretary.
‘Surely one of the admin staff can do the photocopying,’ I said lightly. ‘I was hoping for something a bit more substantial.’
‘There’s no room for delusions of grandeur here, I’m afraid,’ Damian replied smugly. ‘We all have to muck in and get the job done.’
‘But nobody else is mucking in, are they?’ I struggled to keep my voice level. ‘Everyone else has been given something interesting to get their teeth into.’
A couple of the others glanced pointedly at each other and moved away to commence their own tasks.
Damian held his palms high to shut me up. ‘Just carrying out the bosses’ orders, that’s all. Barbara has all the files you’ll need upstairs. Thank you, Emma.’
With that, he turned his back and bent forward, busying himself shuffling paperwork on his desk.
I stalked back to my own desk and took my phone out of my drawer before heading upstairs.
As most people were at the conference, it was super quiet up there. I leaned against the wall for a moment in the corridor, reluctant to commence the mind-numbing job I’d been allocated.
Eventually I tapped on Barbara’s office door.
‘Morning, Emma!’ She appeared, small and mouse-like, in front of me. ‘Apparently you need some files from me.’
I nodded, forced a smile.
‘There we go.’ She plonked an armful of brown folders into my outstretched hands. Each one was stuffed with paperwork. ‘And that’s just for starters, I’m afraid.’
Glumly I trudged back downstairs and headed for the photocopier room. It was small and stuffy, but at least I didn’t have to work under the glare of Damian all morning.
At first I tried to scan each page to get an overview of the case, but after only ten minutes or so, the boring nature of the job took over and I became blind to the print on the pages.
After about an hour, I took a break to make coffee in the kitchenette downstairs.
I nodded at the receptionist, Janine, and took the short corridor on the right of her desk, slowing down when I heard Damian’s voice. He was speaking quietly, but I had good hearing and there was no mistaking his pompous tone.
‘The medical paperwork is being copied as we speak. Once the files are collated, that’s it, you’re in the clear. I have the original and there’ll be no trace of the change. Trust me.’
I tiptoed back down the corridor and out into reception again. I passed a couple of waiting clients and headed back upstairs to the photocopier room. There, I leafed through the files I’d already processed.
There were no medical papers in there. I started the next set of papers collating on the machine and began to methodically check the remaining folders.
My heartbeat raced when I opened one to find a clipped section of paperwork marked AlchoBio Metrics Ltd.
I rifled quickly through and soon established that this was a private breathalyser test that was admissible in court as evidence if requested. The detailed report concluded that although the client had alcohol in his bloodstream, it was well below the legal limit at the time of the accident.
The door opened and I quickly closed the folder and looked up.
‘How’s it going?’ Damian asked, eyeing the files.
‘Good. Everything is fine,’ I said quickly, busying myself with checking the collated paperwork.
‘I know you think I’m having a go, Emma, allocating you this task, but I gave it to you because I knew you’d get the job done with minimum fuss.’ He threw me a wolfish grin. ‘In its own way, this is probably the most important job of all.’
I nodded without commenting and turned back to the machine.
‘I’ll leave you to it, then,’ he said, closing the door behind him.
I made myself an extra copy of the medical information, and when I’d copied the rest of the folders, I carried the pile out into the main office.
It was deserted.
I realised it was lunchtime. Nobody had bothered to ask if I wanted anything from the shop or fancied a walk to the café, as we often did.
I swallowed hard. I hadn’t worked there that long, but maybe it was time to make a fresh start somewhere else. As usual, Dad’s face floated into my mind’s eye, along with his critical words.
You’ll never amount to anything.
And then I had a light-bulb moment.
I remembered I’d seen Damian locking away some files earlier and dropping the tiny drawer key into the pot that held his pens.
After checking at the office door that nobody was yet on their way back from lunch, I walked across the office and peered into the red plastic pen holder on his desk.
I fished out the key and opened the drawer. There were three folders in there, the second one marked exactly like the one I had copied earlier.
I scanned through the paperwork inside and found the original medical results. When I perused the figures, I saw immediately what it was I was looking for.
My heart pumped with adrenalin; I was unsure whether I felt pleased or terrified by the information I had inadvertently uncovered.
I took a photograph of the original results with my phone, then replaced the file in Damian’s desk drawer and en
sured the folders were back in exactly the order I’d found them.
Finally I locked the drawer again and dropped the key back into the pot.
Back at my own desk, I folded up my copy of the medical report and pushed it to the bottom of my handbag.
And then I waited.
When Shaun brings Maisie back home later than we agreed, it’s clear they aren’t speaking to each other.
‘What on earth’s the matter with her?’ I ask him as she storms into the house without even saying hello to me.
‘I’m afraid she’s been a bit of a madam, Em. I can’t explain now…’ He looks back at the road. The car engine is running and I notice for the first time that he has a passenger. ‘Joanne’s waiting and Piper’s fast asleep on the back seat. She’s exhausted, poor thing.’
‘I thought you and Maisie had gone out on your own, just the two of you.’
‘We met up with them later. Maisie really upset Piper, Em, she wasn’t nice. But look’ – he takes a step back on the path – ‘I’ll explain another time. I’ll call Maisie tomorrow and have a proper chat with her. In the meantime, maybe you can speak to her about how she might think about other people’s feelings.’
‘Hang on, you can’t just leave it like this. What happened?’
‘I’ll call,’ he says firmly before turning abruptly and walking back to the car. I raise my hand to acknowledge Joanne, but she must be looking the other way.
I close the door and call out to Maisie. She doesn’t answer, but I can hear music up in her bedroom.
I climb the stairs and tap on her door.
‘Only me,’ I say. ‘Turn the music off a moment, poppet. I want to talk to you.’
She presses a button and the music stops.
‘What happened with Dad today?’
‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ Maisie buries her face in her pillow.
I’m getting heartily sick of my daughter coming home in a terrible mood and nobody wanting to enlighten me as to what has been happening.
‘Did you upset Piper… or Joanne?’
‘No! She upset me but nobody cares about that!’ Her voice sounds muffled, but she won’t move her face from the pillow.
‘Come on, Maisie. I can’t help you if you won’t share stuff with me. What happened?’
She turns her face towards me and sits up in bed, clasping her hands together in front of her.
They hate me,’ she whispers, her eyes widening. ‘They both hate me.’
‘Don’t be silly! Nobody hates you. What happened?’
Her eyes are unfocused and her face is pale. I watch two small red spots appear on her cheeks and she swallows hard.
And then she lurches forward and a fountain of bright pink vomit shoots out of her mouth and drenches the bedding.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
About a week later, I’m in the kitchen having a quiet coffee before I wake Maisie when I hear a shriek followed by feet thundering down the stairs.
I plonk my cup down, spilling coffee on the counter top.
‘Maisie? What is it?’
‘Our herb garden!’ Her face is horror-struck when she runs into the kitchen barefoot, in her pyjamas. ‘Someone pulled up all our plants… all of them.’
‘What?’ I rush to the window and raise the blind. Maisie’s bedroom window overlooks the back garden at a more convenient angle than the kitchen, but I can see scattered plants on the edge of the lawn.
Maisie and I planted the small herb garden together in the spring. We’d planned it out on paper and separated each herb section with small white decorative stones. Maisie kept a diary cataloguing the growth of the plants and was in awe when we used the herbs in cooking. She loved to pick them fresh and present them triumphantly to whoever was cooking that day.
I pull my dressing gown tighter around me and slide my bare feet into the pair of flip-flops I keep by the French doors. ‘Wait here,’ I say, unlocking the doors and stepping out into the dewy freshness of the morning.
I walk across the crisp, frosted lawn to the border, shivering as an icy breeze blasts my lower legs and toes. Immediately I see that Maisie is right. Not a single plant remains in our garden. They all lie on the soil or the grass, dying.
‘Do I have to go?’ Maisie frowns as she stuffs a foot into her lace-up pumps. ‘I’d rather just spend the day with Dad.’
I’m still not clear what happened to cause so much upset after her trip to the cinema with Shaun. According to Maisie, it all began with some silly game that Piper started in the first place, and ended with Joanne’s daughter screaming the milkshake parlour down.
Maisie has been quiet all week. My mum looked after her when she stayed off school for a couple of days after the vomiting incident, and she hasn’t been to her dance classes.
She’s had next to no appetite and has actually taken herself off up to bed without me having to scream, threaten and beg as per our usual routine. It’s all very odd, but I put it down to her having some kind of tummy bug that manifested itself so colourfully on Sunday evening.
This morning, when she tore downstairs to tell me about the herb garden, is the most energy she’s had for a while.
Shaun hasn’t called as he promised to explain why Maisie was so upset, and to be honest, I haven’t overly chased him. I sent him a text but he dodged the subject, saying it’s all been forgotten now. Joanne has been out of the office this week working at home, apparently, so I can’t ask her anything about it.
But on Friday afternoon, Shaun texted again to say he’d pick Maisie up at ten the next morning for a special day out.
When I told Maisie, she wasn’t at all pleased.
‘I’m sure you’ll enjoy it,’ I say now, trying to keep my tone light. ‘I think Joanne has some nice things planned for you all to do.’
‘It’s weird.’ Maisie reaches for her other shoe. ‘The way you know her.’
‘It’s not weird.’ I throw her denim jacket over the back of the chair. ‘I work with her, I told you.’
‘Piper says she’s your boss,’ Maisie remarks. ‘She says that you work for her.’
I’m not surprised at these repeated bitchy comments. Sadly, it’s what I expect from Miss Piper Dent. I guess she has to release her vitriol somewhere, and it looks like this time, I won the jackpot.
‘Joanne is my boss. Regardless of what’s happened, I know she’ll look after you while you’re with her.’
Maisie says nothing, but she takes her time putting on her shoe. After a few moments, she begins to snipe again.
‘You don’t even care Dad isn’t living here any more.’
‘I have no choice but to accept it, Maisie. We both have to.’
‘But you don’t care he has a new girlfriend.’
I walk over and stand behind her. Press my hands down onto her shoulders.
‘Can we just stop this?’ I say softly, bending close to her ear. ‘Can you and I not argue? Especially not today.’
‘Sorry,’ she says petulantly. ‘It’s just that… I’d rather stay here with you.’
‘I know.’ I walk around the couch and sit down next to her. ‘But it’s important you go today because you’re going to be seeing a lot of Joanne and Piper. It will be nice for you all to get to know each other, and besides, I’m going to replant our herbs while you’re gone, so you’ll have something to look forward to when you get back.’
On the back foot, and not wanting to frighten Maisie, I told her that an animal must have dug the plants up during the night. But there was a clear footprint in the soil; it looked like it was from a training shoe.
I felt as if I might be sick, but Maisie watching anxiously from the door gave me the strength to put on an act.
At 10 o’clock prompt, Shaun knocks on the front door. Finally, I seem to have got through to him about not treating the house as if he still lives here.
He tells me briefly what they have planned for the girls but to keep it a secret so he can surprise Maisie.
&n
bsp; A few seconds later, she appears behind me. I kiss her at the door and she slips her hand into Shaun’s.
‘Have a great time.’ I smile widely at her. ‘Can’t wait to hear about what you’ve been up to.’
‘She’ll have the time of her life.’ Shaun grins. ‘Trust me.’
I glance at the clock. It’s after seven, and Shaun said he’d have Maisie back for six.
I tell myself it’s no big deal; they’ve probably just lost track of time.
I’d got a whole host of things I wanted to get through today. I had a chunk of case files to reference-tab, ready for bundles to be prepared on Monday for counsel. Shaun had already cleared all his drawers and bedside table, as well as half his wardrobe, so I planned to take the opportunity to conduct a bit of a spring-clean on my own belongings. It might be an opportunity to get more organised, especially after Mum’s gripe about the messy house.
I’d also put some time aside to pop into town to make a start on the new wardrobe that I’d promised myself to take advantage of the storage space I have now. Since being a teenager, I’ve fantasised about building a collection of expensive shoes and keeping them in labelled boxes, all stacked and ready to wear.
Now I have the chance, I think about the prohibitive cost involved and where I would even wear such pieces.
But somehow, the day has slipped away from me. I did manage to tab the case files, but all my other plans seemed to fly out of the window.
I went out to replant the herbs, but on closer inspection I saw that lots of the roots had been completely torn off them. As if someone was determined they would not be saved.
I’m ashamed to say I’ve lounged around, turning the television on and then off again. Picking up my Kindle and putting it back down, unable to get into any of my selected reads. Uninterrupted, I have sometimes finished a good book in a day, but there’s no chance of that happening for the foreseeable.
In the end, I simply gave up and just vegged out on the sofa, various recent conversations with Shaun and Joanne replaying constantly in my head, together with musings about what the broken window and the plant incident might mean. But there are no conclusions drawn; I’ve just succeeded in working myself up, and ended up wishing my daughter was here, just to have someone I love close by.