Letting You Go

by Anouska Knight

  Ted’s heart was trying to thud its way free of his chest. He’d never hurt a woman, but the notion of knocking her into the concrete pit beneath the car behind him did a round in his mind. He stepped back from her. ‘Then you steer him well away from anywhere he might go upsetting anyone, Louisa, or so help me …’

  ‘Gladly,’ she spat. ‘But just so you know, Ted. Call it the curse of strong Viking genes but the characteristics of certain bloodlines in this town run strong. Have you seen my grandson lately?’

  Ted knew Malcolm and Millie Fairbanks had a child now; Helen Fairbanks was forever coming up to the house with new photos of the boy for Blythe to admire. Helen had never stopped coming up to the house, she’d taken Millie up there too while she was still in her wheelchair so the town knew Bill and Helen didn’t hold Ted responsible for her faulty brakes. ‘No, Louisa. I haven’t seen your grandson.’

  ‘It’s uncanny. Beautiful almond eyes; that flop of blond hair. You of all people should know that family secrets don’t stay secret forever, Edward. Blythe and her genealogical talents for tracing back family trees should’ve told you that much.’

  ‘I warned you before, if you open your mouth I’ll make damned sure you go down too, Louisa.’

  Louisa held her hands up but she wasn’t the surrendering type. She wasn’t the mayor’s wife any longer, she was his widow. There were no more public engagements, no dinner parties up in that tacky house of theirs. Louisa didn’t have as much face to lose as she had back then. When it had happened. Before Ted could stop it. Ted felt his back stiffen. He was a fool, a damned fool to have ever let it happen.

  ‘I won’t have you upsetting my wife, Louisa.’ But Louisa didn’t care for Blythe.

  ‘Really, Ted, I have no desire being the talk of the town, but Malcolm’s going to put two and two together eventually. And when he does ask me, I’m not going to lie to him like you have to yourself all these years. My son deserves to know the truth about his father.’

  CHAPTER 15

  The horrendous suited jaywalker who’d so warmly welcomed Alex back into town the other day was standing two places behind her now in the queue at Freya’s Deli. Different suit, same showy four-by-four double parked right outside like he owned the place. There was a delicate hint of cigarettes fighting the smell of freshly baked croissants in the air around the countertop. Alex had only popped in to get her dad a nice sandwich for lunch, something on wholegrain with three food groups to keep his strength up. He wasn’t eating properly. He needed to eat, he worked too hard, he worried too much. He needed to eat.

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Yep, can I get one of those vanilla bean shakes please?’ Alex asked, trying to keep her face angled so that unpleasant man didn’t spot her. Not that he would necessarily recognise her. She’d actually bothered to sort her hair out this morning, borrow a touch of Jem’s makeup so she didn’t look like an extra from Night of the Living Dead every day. Times had changed; it used to be Jem nicking Alex’s stuff. Alex hoped Jem still loved vanilla shakes. Guess we’ll find out when I get to the hospital. ‘And, um, a bottle of the fresh-pressed apple, thanks.’ A small commotion broke out in the queue as Alex fished for change in her back pocket. She kept facing forwards, she didn’t want to look at that foul man again particularly.

  ‘Sorry, do I know you? You look kind of familiar.’ The young girl behind the counter couldn’t have been older than sixteen.

  A small child cried out from somewhere in the queue. ‘Wasp!’

  The girl behind the counter glanced over and swatted at something over the croissants.

  ‘I don’t think so. Sorry.’ Alex smiled.

  ‘It’s Alexandra, right? I think you used to babysit for me.’ She pointed both index fingers at herself but all Alex could see was several rows of stud earrings and lots and lots of eyeliner. ‘It’s Darcy. Hopkins.’

  ‘Oh my goodness, Darcy? I didn’t recognise you! I’m stunned you recognised me, actually.’

  Darcy transformed from autonomous server into a bubbly teenager.

  ‘No way, you were like, my favourite babysitter! I was bummed when you stopped coming over. Mum had Carrie Logan instead, do you know her? I think she was in your sister’s year. She was not cool.’

  Alex smiled. She’d babysat for Darcy for two lucrative years before Darcy’s mum had called Alex and said that they were cutting back on nights out, that they’d call if circumstances changed. They never had. Carrie didn’t need to be cool, she just needed to be trustworthy around children.

  ‘I’m only working here for the summer holiday, I’m starting my A-levels in September. I’m going into performing arts, hopefully.’

  ‘Mum, WASP!’

  ‘It’s not a wasp, it’s a bee. It won’t hurt you.’ The woman waiting behind Alex was getting restless.

  Alex nodded approvingly and handed over a tenner. Darcy must be about sixteen now. Alex had been the same at her age, full of confidence and all set for the world. Alex took her change and crossed her fingers for Darcy that nothing horrendous would happen in her life and mess it all up. ‘Take care, Darcy. Good luck with everything.’ Alex smiled and shuffled her way back outside past the hands flailing at an insect she couldn’t see herself and several people chanting, ‘If you don’t bother it, it won’t bother you.’

  Alex took a left out of the deli and caught a brief shot at the hand-tied posies in buckets out front of Wallflowers. She stopped automatically to look them over, inside Carrie Logan was savagely deadheading something. The world had advanced its hair straightening technology since Alex had last seen Carrie, Carrie’s corkscrew blonde curls all ironed out now and pulled back into a sleek ponytail running just past the collar of her gilet. Alex casually crouched for a better look at the flower display. Her mum loved flowers. Jem didn’t have to know they were from here. More bees congregated over the lavender bushes either side of the shop door. Ooh, her mum loved lavender, Alex could put some fresh in the kitchen for when Blythe came home.

  Something dive-bombed Alex’s ear. ‘Shoo, bee.’ One of the little blighters had got a whiff of Jem’s shake. ‘Shoo.’ Alex took a sidestep. Then another. It wasn’t easy deterring a plucky insect with hands full of takeout. Alex tried to do one of those casual I’m-not-panicking-about-a-bug-in-my-face strolls that people did when they started to panic about bugs in their faces.

  ‘Shoo! Shooo!’

  Alex scanned the road for a break between the cars where she could cross for the garage. Where did all these cars come from? Viking Fest wasn’t starting until the bank holiday weekend. They weren’t all here for a stroll up to the plunge pools, surely?

  Something buzzed, right beside Alex’s ear. No! It was going to go in her bloody ear! Bugger off, bee! She began shaking her head, a little at first so she didn’t upset the food she had balanced precariously in her arms. The bee buzzed. She skipped a couple of paces along the kerb and cranked her head back in one motion. Oh tits, Alex, you’ve angered it!

  Alex turned on her heel, whichever direction – she didn’t care – and launched herself chest-first into a pedestrian. A cold explosion of vanilla bean milkshake compressed between her and a blue t-shirt.

  ‘Sorry!’ she yipped.

  At first, she thought it might’ve been the man from the deli too. The body she’d just thumped into had hardly moved under her clumsy force, like a padded wall. Alex got a glimpse of a set of ladders and a hammer, half covered in milkshake, embroidered into the breast of the blue t-shirt.

  ‘I thought you said you weren’t a runner?’ he said. Alex heard the smile in his voice before she looked for it on his lips. No mud this time. This time Finn had Jem’s shake spattered over him instead.

  ‘Oh my goodness … I am, so, sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Really … I’m sorry.’

  Vanilla flavoured milk tracked down one of Finn’s arms, a large creamy area of t-shirt was already clinging to his stomach. Alex knew that stomach by heart, she’d committed it to memory after jus
t one, single, perfect November night.

  She was about to apologise again but she felt something tickle her scalp. Alex began shaking her head as if she was in her youth moshing to Nirvana again, something which incidentally she’d only ever done in Finn’s room.

  ‘Whoa, there, girl.’ Finn laughed. ‘It’s only … milkshake?’

  Alex slowly straightened up. She saw the yellow drip come into view from where it had tickled her and watched it run off the end of her hair.

  ‘Oh, hang on. You have a stowaway.’ Finn smiled. Alex froze. ‘Hold still.’ He came in closer, vanilla filling Alex’s nose. She held her breath while he carefully parted her hair. ‘Come on, little fella. Come get some shake.’ Alex saw the edge of his smile, a broad run of lovely teeth uniform as the new railings he’d put in around St Cuthbert’s.

  ‘It was the bee’s fault,’ Alex said sourly. ‘It wanted Jem’s shake.’

  Finn teased the insect from Alex’s hair.

  ‘Guess the bee won.’

  ‘What happened to don’t bother them and they won’t bother you?’ Fat chance. The world did not work that way.

  Finn held his hand out. The small invader sat inconspicuously on his palm, behaving itself.

  ‘See. He’s not bothering anyone now.’

  ‘Trust me, I didn’t start it. I was trying my best to keep my distance, the thing just kept gravitating towards me anyway.’

  On Finn’s palm, the culprit appeared to be recovering from the calming effects of its new host. A small motion and it was on its way again. Alex watched it fly off. She realised Finn was still watching her. ‘Maybe it couldn’t help itself.’

  Alex felt a flush rise in her cheeks. Someone in dainty heels skipped over the pavement behind them.

  ‘Hi, Finn. I just saw! Do you need anything? I’ve brought you some paper towels. Oh my God, Alexandra Foster!’ Carrie stood a little off side. ‘Finn and Alex! Together again, in Eilidh Falls. I heard about your mum, Alex. Hope she’s OK. Jem home too, I take it?’

  Carrie looked Alex over, her eyes hovering on Alex’s grubby Converse pumps. She smiled one of those smiles super-groomed women reserved for other, less-up-to-scratch women. GHDs weren’t going to straighten that kink out of her. Alex followed her shadow from her battered pumps over the pavement. Her shadow was touching Finn’s shadow. Did her shadow not know the rules? ‘Hello, Carrie. Yep, Jem’s home.’

  Carrie watched Finn trying to get some of the excess off his front. He wasn’t really achieving much.

  ‘I think you’re going to need to whip that off, Finn.’ Carrie sighed. Alex rolled her eyes before she could stop herself, but Finn saw it. He gave her a smile before Carrie could see. Time to go, Alex. She decided to think up lines to politely get away, before Carrie insisted Finn whip off anything else.

  ‘Jem come back alone has she? No husband, or … partner in tow? I look out for her from time to time on Facebook, but no sign. Any ideas?’

  ‘Any ideas about?’ Alex could taste vanilla. Finn was so covered, she was finding it hard to concentrate on what Carrie was saying.

  ‘Why Jem isn’t on Facebook. Everyone is on Facebook, it’s where we all convince one another how perfectly our lives have all worked out.’ Carrie laughed as if she only thought that was what everyone else did on Facebook.

  ‘Er, I don’t know. Maybe Jem’s life isn’t perfect enough yet.’ She shrugged.

  Finn had given up with the paper towels. Alex looked an apology at him. A car horn beeped twice across the road. Alex turned, an Aston Martin was just pulling from her dad’s yard. Alex saw him walking back into the garage and wished she’d timed her collision with Finn better.

  ‘I’m really sorry about the mess I’ve made. I have to go.’

  ‘Off already? Tell your mum and dad I said hi, Alex.’ Carrie smiled. ‘Jem too!’

  ‘Bye.’ Alex said.

  She turned to cross the street before Finn spoke behind her. ‘Thanks for the shake, Foster.’

  Louisa hadn’t noticed the small drama unfolding across the street behind her. She was too busy watching the colour drain from Ted’s face. Ted looked absently out through the yard gates towards the florist’s. He didn’t recognise the girl at first, his eyes only picking Susannah’s lad out. He looked like he’d an accident with some of his paint. Louisa turned to follow the direction Ted was staring off into. It made Ted pay more attention to what they were both looking at.

  The girl turned and Ted recognised the same profile he used to look in on, soundly sleeping in her room, on his way to bed. The face he’d given a thousand goodnight kisses to before she’d gotten all grown up and he’d forgotten how to just plant one on her cheek without waiting for invitation.

  Did he just touch her hair? Ted felt himself turn to stone.

  ‘Well, well. He is nothing if not persistent, that one,’ Louisa cooed. ‘Some people, hey, Ted? No shame.’

  Ted could feel his hands beginning to shake at his sides. Alexandra had been back a matter of days and he was already bothering at her like a bee around a honey pot. Son of a bitch.

  ‘It’s like I said, Edward. They’re all grown up. I can’t control my Malcolm any more than you can control your little Alexandra. Do tell Blythe I said hello.’

  CHAPTER 16

  Dr Okafor had returned after lunch with a small splodge of something mayonnaise-like on another cheerily coloured shirt. Aside from the mayo stain, Dr Okafor had also returned with an endless stream of miserable information.

  Alex and Jem had listened intently, thanking the doctor with all the warmth they could muster in case it could be traded in to buy their mum any more care than she was already receiving. After a brief spell loitering in the AAU corridor, Jem had disappeared to sort some pressing issue out with work leaving Alex to her watch post in Room 2.

  A small clock ticked lethargically on the wall opposite. Jem had been gone ages. Probably hadn’t gone to sort out work at all but gone to get her head together. This was always how she’d dealt with her challenges, find a door and disappear behind it. Alex had found Jem in her room this morning, looking out of her bedroom window with a cup of cold coffee held forgotten against her chest. It was like living in a houseful of yoyos; one person’s mood picking up while another’s dipped.

  Alex heaved a satisfying sigh and watched the subtle changes in her mum’s face as she slept. Alex had been hopeful yesterday, Ted had seemed to defrost some when she suggested they split the visiting hours between them. He’d even buried his hands into his overall pockets and rocked back on his boot heels, nodding approvingly like he used to do when Alex would rev the engines for him down at the garage. But then he was like stone again this morning, Mum, Alex wanted to say. Tell me what to say to him when we’re alone, Mum. Because I never know.

  Her dad had been off when she’d walked into the garage today. There was a strange atmosphere in there when Alex had taken in the baguette she’d managed to salvage from its dousing of sticky milkshake.

  Alex shifted squeakily in her seat, the backs of her thighs sticking to the upholstery where the skirt Jem had lent her had come up shorter on Alex’s frame. She’d found herself cemented to the squeaky green vinyl chair for most of the day, trying to make up some of the years she’d been missing in action with a bit of hard time here in Kerring General. Where every second stretched like a slurred word.

  Alex looked at her phone, sitting mute on the arm of her chair. She wanted to text Jem, check she was OK, but Jem liked her privacy. If she needed some time to herself, Alex didn’t want to be the one to cramp her. Alex’s thoughts returned to what Dr Okafor had said out in the hall. Concerns he’d planted in her mind like booby traps she kept stumbling into.

  Pneumonia, blood clots, bedsores.

  Blythe had been drifting in and out of sleep much of the day. Day 3. Alex was supposed to be back to buttering loaves and wiping down plastic tablecloths by now. Day 3 and no packing up of bags to be seen anywhere, only the grim long-haul starting to take shape befor
e them all. Malnutrition, falls. Heart failure. Alex began picking at the hem of Jem’s cotton skirt and watched her mum sleeping. Blythe’s recovery was starting to resemble a twisted game of luck.

  Alex whispered as quietly as she could and still hear her own voice. ‘I’m sorry, Mum. I’m so sorry … for everything.’

  She was breaking her own rule. No crying while she was in the Falls. Alex lay her face against her mother’s sleeve and felt the warmth still emanating from the arm they now knew had lost much of its movement. Like Dill’s. Alex felt her facial muscles tense. She let it all come out, her body twitching with silent shudders to the gentle repetition of her mother’s restful breathing.

  When she moved her face away again there was a dark stain just beside Blythe’s wrist, a small blackish smear where her mascara had rubbed from her face.

  ‘Alex?’

  Jem had perfected the art of slipping in and out of places unnoticed. Alex jumped up instinctively, Jem didn’t need to know she’d been crying. Alex smiled as jovially as possible and felt a burn where her legs had peeled too quickly from the seat.

  Jem squinted. ‘Come on, big sis, you need a change of scene.’

  CHAPTER 17

  A piece of carrot cake the size of a child’s head sat untouched on the bench between them where the sunlight was just about filtering through under the shadow of hospital. Jem had gotten two plastic forks so they could share but Jem had snapped the tines off hers and was now fiddling with four little shards of plastic in her lap. Alex sat counting the apples in the tree across the small leafy courtyard Jem had found in the hospital grounds, Garden of Reflection the small brass plaque on the wall read. They couldn’t see it now though, a lady hooked up to a mobile oxygen system was standing in front of it having a cigarette.

  Jem stopped watching her. ‘Did Mum ever smoke, do you think? Like, before she had us?’