Safe With Me

by K. L. Slater

  ‘Didn’t you get the message I left with our neighbour, Beryl?’

  She frowns and shuffles back inside with some discomfort, even slower on her feet than usual.

  ‘Were you at the hospital?’ I ask.

  ‘No,’ she says. ‘Liam wanted to do a bit of shopping so we got a cab into town.’

  She turns round and holds on to the doorframe to catch her breath before heading back into the house.

  ‘Shopping?’ I pause to absorb the sheer stupidity of the woman. ‘In his current state of health? Dr Khan expressly said—’

  ‘I know what he said,’ Ivy snaps. ‘But those doctors don’t live in the real world, do they?’

  And neither do you, by all accounts.

  ‘Expecting a young man to be stuck in the house day after day is ridiculous. And anyway, he can walk quite well even though he’s slow. Would you like a cup of tea?’

  ‘Liam’s in his thirties, Ivy,’ I say, clamping my teeth together before I go the whole hog and ask her why she treats him like a kid. ‘Hardly a young man.’

  She doesn’t answer me but shuffles off into the kitchen.

  I follow her in, resisting the urge to rub my sore hand as I know it will only hurt more.

  ‘The doctor also said he needs to rest for his mind to recover,’ I point out. ‘He might never get his memory back if he’s got constant stimulation from shopping trips.’

  ‘That might not be a bad thing.’ Ivy shrugs, pulling mugs from the cupboard. ‘Maybe a fresh start is what he needs.’

  What Liam needs is a fresh start well away from her.

  She has offered me tea but I feel certain she doesn’t really want me to stay. I can feel her prickling, a static aura that buzzes around her.

  I walk into the lounge, and there he is, emptying out the contents of three small carrier bags. Liam’s obvious pleasure at my appearance nullifies the old woman’s grumbling in an instant and serves as a timely reminder of why I keep coming back.

  ‘DVDs.’ He waves two plastic cases in the air. ‘These are films I used to love and can’t remember a damn thing about.’

  I smile and sit down on the edge of the couch next to him. He presses his hand on mine, still cold from being outside.

  ‘I wondered if we could swap mobile numbers,’ I say shyly. ‘So I can get you if I need you and vice versa.’

  ‘’Course,’ he grins. He saves my number into his phone as a contact. It’s embarrassing because he has to find it himself on my handset. I’m not very good with new technology. ‘There, I’ve sent you a text and now you have my number.’

  I open the text. He’s written, ‘Liam xx’, and I feel my face flush.

  Liam offers to save his number in my phone as a new contact.

  ‘I’m glad you’re here, Anna.’ He looks up at me and my heart seems to melt like wax.

  I don’t know what to say. Even though Liam and I are just friends, it fills me with such a warm feeling when he looks at me like this it turns my brain to putty.

  It’s just silly and I mustn’t lose focus on who I am really interested in.

  ‘How do you know you liked the DVDs if you can’t remember?’ I change the subject and move my hand away even though I like it. I can’t help it.

  ‘Gran brought me this notebook down from the side of my bed. I started it as a kid,’ he says, giving me back my phone and picking up an A5 spiral-bound pad. ‘I suppose I must’ve been a bit of a geek really, writing down films I’d watched and what I thought of them.’

  I’m surprised Ivy hasn’t continued to buy him football sticker books and maybe the odd Beano annual. Liam must secretly ache to be out of here so he can breathe.

  ‘How’s the wheelchair?’ I ask.

  He pulls a face and shrugs.

  ‘I just wanted to rely on my crutches but Gran insisted we take this thing. I hate it.’

  ‘It won’t be long before you can walk unaided, if you don’t overdo it,’ I say. ‘Got anything good there?’

  He hands me the DVD cases and takes another couple out of the carrier bag. The usual classic bloke-type adventure films, Mission: Impossible, The Bourne Identity.

  I’m not a massive movie fan myself; I find it difficult to sit and keep my attention on them for an hour and a half when there always seem to be other important things that need doing.

  ‘Good stuff,’ I say, handing them back. ‘That’s you sorted for the next few days then.’

  ‘Let’s hope your friend likes them,’ Ivy says from the doorway. ‘I’m hoping we’ll have more people around here soon to keep you company.’

  ‘Friend?’ I say mildly.

  ‘She means Amanda,’ Liam flushes, suddenly interested in his hands.

  ‘She’s coming over to see him later,’ Ivy says. ‘Now, shall I put the kettle on and make you that cup of tea, Anna?’

  My teeth bite down hard on my tongue and a metal-like taste floods my mouth.

  Tea, tea, fucking tea. The answer to the world’s problems, according to Ivy. She scuttles back to the kitchen, obviously glad of the distraction.

  ‘Let me get this right, the woman who nearly killed you is coming over to watch films?’ My eyes are stinging, threatening tears, but I don’t care. I can’t stop myself from saying it.

  ‘You could come over too, if you like?’ Liam leans forward, urging me to agree.

  I dig my thumbnail harder into my palm to stop full-blown tears from forming.

  ‘I wonder what her boyfriend would think about her spending her evenings with you,’ I remark.

  ‘Boyfriend?’

  ‘She’s seeing the caretaker at the nursery where she works. Hasn’t she told you?’

  His shoulders drop and he looks at the floor. For a second I imagine slapping him.

  ‘I saw them together when I drove by the other day.’

  ‘But why – I mean, you never mentioned it until now,’ Liam says.

  ‘Why should I?’ I shrug. ‘I didn’t think you’d be interested.’

  ‘No,’ he agrees. ‘I’m not really, I’m just surprised.’

  I soften a little, understanding. It’s not that Liam cares about her, he is just surprised at how devious she is.

  ‘Well, like I said, you’re welcome if you want to watch the film with us.’

  ‘I’m sure Anna’s got other things she wants to do instead of coming over here, Liam,’ Ivy reappears in the doorway.

  ‘Actually, I haven’t,’ I respond tartly, looking back at Liam. ‘But I’m not sure I want to be around someone like Amanda Danson.’

  ‘She’s not the wicked person you make her out to be, Anna. Amanda has been upset. It seems someone has got it in for her.’

  Liam glances over at Ivy.

  ‘Oh?’ My ears prick up.

  ‘Yes, she came home to a load of manure dumped in her front yard. And the company who did it without her authorisation are now demanding payment. Can you believe it?’

  How I manage not to smirk I don’t know.

  I ignore Ivy and turn to face Liam. ‘I think the police and her insurance company would be concerned to hear she’s in touch with you.’

  ‘Everyone is welcome here,’ Ivy says lightly.

  ‘Even someone who nearly killed your grandson?’ The words spill out too loud before I can stop them, and Ivy looks alarmed. ‘If it was someone on the street who attacked him would you invite them over too?’

  All this time I’ve given Ivy the benefit of the doubt without knowing about her underlying madness. When I get home I’ll be able to read the report in full but, for now, I’ve seen enough to know she’s clearly unstable.

  ‘It’s hardly the same thing,’ Ivy snaps. ‘It was an accident; Amanda didn’t mean to hurt him.’

  No, ‘Amanda’ never means to hurt anyone. There’s always a reason for her impulsiveness and lack of thought for the consequences of her actions.

  I feel something shift inside me and I clamp my mouth shut before some choice words spill out. I have nothing else to s
ay to Ivy.

  Chapter 34

  Thirteen years earlier

  After school, Daniel walked home as slowly as he could. But when he reached the house, his mother was waiting.

  ‘Go to your room,’ she said coldly. ‘Nothing to eat or drink; we will purge this evil from you one way or another.’

  He had been in too much pain to sleep properly the night before and had been very uncomfortable in the dreaded afternoon session with Carla.

  The counsellor never took her eyes off him. She looked as if she actually cared, and once or twice he’d been tempted to answer her. Then he’d remembered and kept his mouth shut. Today had been even worse; it took every bit of his energy during the session not to cry out at the slightest movement.

  Now, he lay on his side on the mattress on the floor and drifted off. He woke up, shivering, to the sound of the door opening.

  His body began to shake and he whimpered, shuffling back towards the wall.

  ‘Danny, it’s OK, it’s only me.’

  He breathed out when he realised it was just Anna.

  She crept into the room and closed the door softly behind her.

  ‘Mum’s nipped to the shop for milk,’ she whispered. ‘So I brought you this.’

  He took the slice of bread and cheese and wolfed it down. Anna passed him a glass of water and he drained it in one gulp.

  ‘Danny, I need you to trust me. Can you do that?’

  He nodded. His sister was the one person in the whole world he knew he could definitely trust.

  ‘I need you to show me. I need to see how bad it is.’

  He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.

  ‘I’m not going to force you,’ she said. ‘But please, you have to let me see, Danny. I think it might be really bad this time but I’ll find a way to help, you know that.’

  He looked at his sister’s eyes and saw that they reflected his own pain. He knew that, somehow, Anna would help him.

  He gave a faint nod and began to undress.

  Anna helped him peel off his school shirt as gently as she could, but on the lefthand side he could feel it was stuck fast with dried blood and so she left it hanging.

  She turned him to the light and he heard the rush of shock catch in her throat.

  Daniel twisted his head so he could see in the mirror. She tried to block his view but it was too late.

  The welts on his back looked like strips of raw liver stuck on to his pale skin. Some were weeping and oozing.

  He closed his eyes but that only seemed to make it hurt more.

  ‘Danny, we have to get you to the hospital,’ Anna whispered, and he watched salty channels slide down her face. She reached for him.

  ‘I don’t want to,’ he whimpered and pulled his hand away. ‘Please, Anna, Father Kilbride said—’

  ‘We could go to Father Kilbride, Danny. He’ll help you.’

  ‘Anna, no.’ He could feel his stomach rolling with the bread and cheese he hadn’t chewed properly.

  ‘Did he hurt you too?’

  He couldn’t get his breath; he thought this was what it must feel like to drown. He opened his mouth and tried to gulp at the air.

  ‘Sssh, it’s OK. Calm down.’

  Danny rested the crown of his head on her arm.

  ‘Are you scared of the priest?’ she asked.

  A coil of something ugly and slippery squirmed briefly in his bowel.

  ‘Danny, has Father Kilbride ever hurt you?’

  She waited, still and full of dread, but there was no response from her brother.

  She pushed his head gently back and looked at him.

  Daniel wouldn’t lift his eyes to her but when she reached for his small warm hand, this time, he didn’t pull away.

  Chapter 35

  Present day

  Anna

  When I get home I empty the big padded envelope from Ivy’s wardrobe on to the dining room table.

  My hand is consumed with a relentless dull aching, so I try to use only my good one, which means everything takes twice as long. I put the kettle on, feed Albert and, as a treat, place two chocolate shortbreads on my favourite glass plate I bought in the sale at John Lewis two years ago.

  Occasionally I get a whiff of the sweet rotting smell but, mostly, today I can’t smell it. Probably as a result of my vigorous cleaning campaign.

  I take my tea and biscuits into the middle room and sit down at the table. I press my back against the rigid form of the chair and take a few seconds to glance around the room, feeling the tightness begin to seep from my bones as I go through my mental inventory.

  There’s the old dresser but Mother’s ornamental china plates have now gone. The carpet is still the same one that Danny and I skipped across as kids and that Mother vacuumed and even scrubbed, many times, down on her hands and knees. It was threadbare in front of the door to the staircase and leading into the kitchen.

  And this chair right here, where I am now, is where the priest sat.

  That’s as far as my mind will go.

  On every stretch of bare wall in this room there had been a crucifix. Not just plain wooden crosses, either. Elaborate affairs, each one complete with a suffering Jesus.

  I remember I used to stand in front of them and imagine how terrible Jesus’s injuries would look in real life. I would press something sharp against my palm and try and imagine how it felt to be nailed up by your hands, your feet.

  All the crucifixes are long gone now.

  I suppose, in the end, I got my wish. I got to find out just how bad suffering could feel.

  The cupboard under the stairs is just that again: a space full of junk, as it should be. No longer a place of fear and darkness.

  It’s not that I don’t have the money to replace the things that remain from years ago. If I wanted to, I could kit the house out and hardly touch what’s in the building society account. It is more a case of why bother when there is only me who will ever see it?

  Things might change. It occurs to me that Liam might visit at some point. I could ask him over for tea and to meet Albert.

  Upstairs, the walls are all the colour of the pages of an old, much-loved book. The thought of decorating up there has crossed my mind now and then but I’d only make a mess of it, and I certainly wouldn’t want a stranger here in the house.

  It had been my job back then to shovel out the cold ashes on a morning. Not too bad in the summer but in winter the frost would bite at my hands as I carried the dusty embers out to the tin dustbin.

  I would come back inside and arrange the spindly iron bars of the solid fuel burner, long overdue for replacement. Mother would loosely plait newspapers to serve as firelighters and, if I didn’t rearrange the grate bars right, the coal and paper would just slip through and the fire would fail. And then I’d be for it.

  I haven’t lit the burner since the bad things happened here. When everything was sorted out, the house became mine.

  I can do what I like now; I am the one in charge.

  Gates locked. Doors locked. Curtains closed.

  I relish the warm feeling that spreads through my lower abdomen like a thick, comforting soup. Nobody can stick their nose into my business any more.

  Nobody can see the letters I’ve got here in front of me.

  If people knew I’d taken this stuff from Ivy’s wardrobe, they would say it is wrong but other people don’t know everything that is at stake. They can’t possibly understand.

  I always suspected something wasn’t quite right between Liam and Ivy, that something didn’t quite fit, and that report has proved me right.

  With Liam’s memory gone, he is relying on an old woman who has been medically certified as unstable. An old woman who is doing nothing to stop, even encouraging, a developing friendship with the woman who nearly killed her grandson. Plus, is neglecting to chase the police prosecution.

  Thanks to Ivy, there is a real risk that Amanda Danson could escape justice all over again. That’s something I can’t
face thinking about.

  I wish I could tell Liam all this, so he understands my urgency. I think he would like to get to know me better but understandably he is holding back, not least because of my own nervousness.

  It is a complication I didn’t plan on.

  After all this time I can’t afford to let my focus slip. I won’t do it.

  I pick up the letter the police hand delivered when I was at Liam’s house and slide a knife under the sealed edge, slitting the letter open in one smooth action. A shiver runs through my hands.

  Unfolding the single white sheet of paper, I read the few lines quickly.

  Finally, the police want to speak to Liam about the accident. They’re giving him the choice of either popping into the station or ringing for an appointment for an officer to call on him at home.

  I refold the letter and place it on the side to put into a fresh envelope later. In the morning at the delivery office, the letter will find its way into the correct delivery slot for Liam’s house.

  Next, I reach for the padded envelope. I lay the photographs out in a line, the baby ones first.

  Liam won’t remember anything from his childhood but what are memories, anyway? Part-fiction, part-real in everyone’s head.

  Past times are gone for good. They only stay alive and exist in the pictures in our heads. There are those who want to remember and those who’d rather push the memories away. Sometimes, people do both.

  I sift quickly through the paperwork looking for Ivy’s psychological report.

  Soon papers are flying everywhere, and I realise with a burst of frustration that the report is not here. In my panic, I must have stuffed it back in the shoebox instead of in the envelope.

  I thump the table. How could I have been so stupid?

  Chapter 36

  With a heavy heart I pack up the papers and photographs and stuff them back into the padded envelope.

  I’ll tuck it way in the sideboard for safekeeping until I get a chance to return it to Ivy’s bedroom and unearth her psychological report again.

  Until then I’ll just have to put it out of my mind. There is nothing I can do about my clumsy error.