You Said Forever

by Susan Lewis

  The broken arm is healing well, but I’m afraid the envy, or threat Roxanne feels from having another girl in the house is only getting worse.

  Charlotte’s breath was short; fear was pushing her towards the edges of what she could stand. She knew, of course, that Chloe considered Elodie to be a rival, her terrible behaviour had started only weeks after Elodie was born, but it was something she’d hoped, prayed, Chloe would grow out of. And she might, but the question was, how much would Elodie – and the rest of them – have to suffer before she did?

  … so social services have put us together with a highly respected child psychologist, and it has given us some hope to feel we are in an expert’s hands. Sadly Roxanne’s mood swings and violence still remain a problem, and I’m afraid the psychologist said something earlier this week that bothered me a great deal. This could be because she managed to voice one of my darkest thoughts …

  Charlotte knew all about dark thoughts; she never wanted to speak them aloud, but the fact that she might share them …

  … This woman, we’ll call her Hayley, suggested Roxanne’s craving for attention was too big for our family. In other words, we’re not capable of giving Roxanne the support and understanding she needs. I could have told her that. What I needed to hear was how we could work to overcome this. Instead, she told me how she, and several “eminent members of her profession”, believed that traumatised children often fared much better as only children. This way they would be the focus of attention, wouldn’t feel threatened by siblings, and, just as importantly, they wouldn’t be able to cause harm to their siblings, either physically or psychologically.

  Charlotte closed down the screen. She couldn’t read any more. Everything inside her was so coiled and raw, and so heavy with dread, that it was hard to remind herself that this was Polly’s story, not her own.

  She really must stop reading this blog and find a way to lighten the darkening mood in her family, before she lost sight of who was who, and what really mattered.

  Chapter Six

  All was calm the following morning, as it generally was following a Chloe storm. The dust had settled, skies were blue, the world was moving on its benign, irreversible way. However, Charlotte and Anthony had been up in the night to change Chloe’s sheets after she’d wet the bed. Another sign, happening more often lately, to show how disturbed she was, and as Charlotte had held her, trying to comfort her sobs, Anthony had silently urged the school and educational psychologist to be in touch soon.

  They – Chloe – desperately needed more help than he and Charlotte could give alone.

  Now, in the clear light of early morning, their thoughts were on other things as the household came to life in its usual noisy and random way, with Elodie banging a xylophone while Cooper, already dressed, trundled his trike about the terrace and Chloe took her time in the bathroom.

  As Anthony came into the kitchen Charlotte noticed how tired and dishevelled he looked, and guessed she didn’t present a much better picture herself.

  Putting his phone aside, he glanced at her and immediately frowned. ‘Why are you wearing that hat?’ he demanded.

  ‘I found it in the Volvo this morning,’ she replied, whisking cereal bowls from countertop to table, and transporting a protesting Elodie to her high chair. She’d intended to make him laugh, or smile at least, but she could see now that it wasn’t going to happen – and anyway, was that really what she’d expected? Maybe she was trying to make a point.

  ‘It’s Zoe’s,’ he informed her.

  ‘I know,’ she replied. ‘Cooper, come and eat your breakfast.’

  ‘And you’re wearing it because?’

  ‘Cooper …’

  ‘I’m coming,’ he shouted from the terrace.

  ‘Here we are, sweetie,’ Charlotte said, tying on Elodie’s bib and ducking as Elodie tried to grab the hat. ‘Oh heck,’ she cried as the milk suddenly boiled over. ‘Can you feed Elodie?’ she said to Anthony, dashing to the rescue.

  ‘Where’s Rowan?’ he asked, pulling up a chair and twinkling playfully at his daughter. She looked flushed and watery-eyed, but was never short of a smile for her daddy.

  ‘In bed with a temperature. Cooper …’

  ‘I told you I don’t want Weet-bix,’ he protested, banging a hand on the table as he saw the mistake.

  ‘Don’t do that,’ Anthony chided.

  ‘Mummy, you gave me Weet-bix,’ he shouted. ‘I want honey puffs.’

  Grabbing the honey puffs, Charlotte dumped the box in front of him and whipped away the Weet-bix.

  ‘I need a bowl,’ he called after her.

  ‘Go and get it,’ Anthony barked as his mobile rang. ‘I need to take this,’ he said, and pressing a kiss to Elodie’s head he clicked on the line and wandered out to the terrace.

  Giving Cooper a bowl, Charlotte went to feed Elodie while checking the messages on her own phone. Three more bookings for the retreats, one cancellation and a payment reminder from Wineworks. Forwarding the latter to Anthony, she removed Elodie’s hands from the baby porridge and managed to get a small spoonful into her mouth before Elodie turned away.

  ‘I need some milk,’ Cooper piped up.

  ‘It’s in front of you.’

  ‘Oh yes.’ He laughed. ‘Mummy why are you wearing that hat? It looks funny.’

  Batting her eyes at him, Charlotte clicked on her phone as it rang.

  Although she didn’t immediately catch on to who was calling since it was a voice she didn’t recognise with a name she’d never heard before, when she realised who it was she sat back in her chair to listen. By the time she rang off her insides were knotting tightly.

  ‘Cooper, go and tell Chloe to hurry up,’ she instructed, bringing herself back to the moment.

  ‘I haven’t finished my breakfast.’

  ‘Just do it,’ she snapped. ‘Anthony, I need to talk to you,’ she called to him.

  He raised a hand, telling her to wait.

  Now, she wanted to yell, but it would frighten Elodie, and getting worked up wasn’t going to help this new situation at all.

  ‘Mummy,’ Elodie gurgled and with a loud burp she promptly threw up.

  ‘Oh sweetheart,’ Charlotte groaned.

  ‘Ugh, yuk, yuk, yuk,’ Cooper exclaimed, managing to tip a spoonful of honey puffs over himself as he clapped a hand to his mouth.

  ‘Look at you now,’ Charlotte said crossly.

  ‘It wasn’t my fault,’ he cried.

  ‘Then whose was it?’

  Cooper grinned. ‘Yours, because you look funny in that hat.’

  Smiling in spite of herself, Charlotte mopped up Elodie, lifted her into her arms and rocked her as she whimpered a sorry little tune. ‘Please go and get Chloe,’ she said to Cooper. ‘You can finish your breakfast when you come back.’

  Obediently zooming off across the room, he began a thunderous climb up the stairs as Anthony came inside and took Elodie from her.

  ‘I’ve just had a call from CYFS,’ she told him.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Child, Youth and Family Services,’ she explained. ‘Better known to us as social services.’

  ‘Haven’t you been expecting them to call?’

  ‘Not them, no.’

  ‘So what did they want?’

  ‘What do you think? Someone, probably the parent of a child in Chloe’s class, must have reported Chloe, so they need to come and check her out. It’s the way it works.’

  ‘Maybe the school got in touch with them?’

  ‘Mike Bain would have told me if he had. No, this is someone trying to make mischief, I’m sure of it.’

  Eyeing her closely, he said, ‘Tell me why you’re so worried.’

  Unable to believe he didn’t know, she tore off the hat and slammed it on the counter. ‘We’re going to be judged as parents,’ she seethed, ‘and if we’re found lacking they might end up putting her into care.’

  His eyes widened. ‘But they’ve got no reason to.’

&nb
sp; ‘Says you, and say I, but they might think otherwise.’

  ‘When are they coming?’

  ‘The day after tomorrow at eleven and they want to speak to both of us, so I hope you can make it.’

  ‘I’ll be here. Listen,’ he said, going to her, ‘I understand why you’re upset about this, but it’ll be OK.’

  ‘You don’t know that,’ she snapped, turning away. ‘A lot will depend on what Chloe says to them, and she’s so unpredictable these days.’

  As Anthony started to reply Elodie abruptly threw up again, and Cooper came running back into the kitchen. ‘Mummy, Chloe’s crying,’ he gasped.

  ‘Why? What’s wrong with her?’ Charlotte demanded.

  Cooper seemed nonplussed. ‘She wouldn’t tell me. She said I had to go away and leave her alone and never come back again.’

  Seeing how bothered he was, Charlotte went to pick him up. ‘It’s all right,’ she soothed gently. ‘She didn’t mean it, not really.’

  ‘She didn’t hit me,’ he whispered.

  Relieved about that, Charlotte kissed him.

  ‘I have to go,’ Anthony announced, glancing at the time and stuffing Elodie back in her high chair.

  ‘Great, don’t worry about us,’ Charlotte raged as he made for the door.

  ‘I told Zoe I’d pick her up at nine,’ he shot back.

  ‘Then call and tell her you’re going to be late.’

  ‘Charlotte …’

  ‘These two children here are yours as well as mine,’ she yelled, ‘and right now I need to go and see to Chloe.’

  ‘Don’t shout, Mummy,’ Cooper cried, covering his ears.

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. Ssh, it’s all right.’

  ‘Are you ready for kindi?’ Anthony asked him.

  Cooper’s eyes rounded in surprise.

  ‘Do you want me to take you?’ Anthony pressed.

  Cooper lit up. ‘Daddy’s taking me to kindi,’ he informed Charlotte, and sliding to the ground he ran to the terrace to jam on his sandals.

  Going to Elodie, Charlotte scooped her up, and spotting Zoe’s hat she threw it at Anthony. ‘Perhaps you’d like to return that to your girlfriend,’ she snapped savagely.

  Temper flashed in his eyes, but he said nothing as he stooped to retrieve it.

  ‘I take it she went to Gimblett Gravels with you last night?’ Charlotte challenged.

  Frowning, he said, ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘I’m asking if that’s how her hat got into your car, because she was with you last night?’

  Staring at her darkly he said, ‘Yes, that’ll be how it got there, but that’s not what you’re saying, is it?’

  ‘I’m ready,’ Cooper announced, coming to take his father’s hand.

  ‘You haven’t got your lunch,’ Charlotte told him, and grabbing his backpack she swung it to him.

  ‘You need to see to Chloe,’ Anthony reminded her coldly.

  Wanting to slap him, she turned her back and held Elodie so tight that Elodie squealed.

  ‘Ssh, I’m sorry,’ she whispered, carrying Elodie to the stairs.

  ‘Is everything OK?’ Rowan asked weakly from her bedroom door.

  ‘It’s fine,’ Charlotte assured her. ‘Just a hectic start to the day. You look awful. Maybe I should call the doctor?’

  ‘No, I’ll be OK. Can I do something?’

  Sorely tempted to ask if she could take Elodie for a moment, Charlotte said, ‘No, you should get back into bed. I’ll come and check on you before I take the girls to the cellar door with me.’

  Moments later Chloe was shouting, ‘I don’t want her in my room. Take her away.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, Chloe. She’s just a baby and I can’t leave her on her own. She’s not well.’

  ‘Then you go too. I don’t want you in here.’

  ‘Tell me why you’re upset.’

  ‘I’m not upset.’

  ‘So why are you crying?’

  Turning her face into the pillow, Chloe raged furiously into it.

  ‘Chloe, please,’ Charlotte implored, going to sit next to her. ‘You have to tell me what’s wrong.’

  ‘Not while she’s here,’ Chloe shouted into the pillow.

  Since Elodie was quiet now, and seemed on the verge of falling asleep, Charlotte carried her into her own room and laid her down in the cot. ‘I’ll be back soon,’ she promised. ‘You have a nice little sleep till then.’

  Aware of her head starting a violent throb as she went back to Chloe’s room, she sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed a hand over Chloe’s hair. ‘What is it?’ she asked softly. ‘What’s got you all upset this morning?’

  Chloe wouldn’t answer, and as Charlotte sat there, thinking about the last few awful minutes with Anthony, she felt like burying her face in a pillow too. Why had she put the stupid hat on when she’d found it, and what had she been trying to accuse him of when she’d told him to take it back? It wasn’t unusual for Zoe to ride in his car, or to go to tastings with him and Will, so why had she felt compelled to throw a scene like that? Maybe because Zoe hadn’t mentioned where she was going when she’d left the cellar door last night.

  Suddenly Chloe threw herself into Charlotte’s arms, sobbing as though her little heart would break.

  ‘Oh Chloe, Chloe,’ Charlotte murmured, holding her tight. ‘Please tell me what it is.’

  Gasping desperately, Chloe tried to say, ‘I haven’t got any friends. Everyone’s got friends except me.’

  Feeling devastated for her, Charlotte went on holding her, unable to think of a thing to say that might comfort her.

  ‘I want to have friends like everyone else,’ Chloe wailed, ‘and I want to go to school. I don’t want to stay here any more.’

  ‘I wish you could go to school too,’ Charlotte told her, ‘but I’m afraid it’s not possible at the moment.’

  Chloe looked up at her. ‘What about if I’m good? Will they let me go then?’

  ‘Of course, but you have to prove you can be good first.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Well, you have to do your lessons with me …’

  ‘That’s just stupid. Anyway, Anthony’s better at it than you are.’

  Why had she stopped calling him Daddy? Her use of his name seemed almost aggressive, as though she was trying to hurt him, or Charlotte, or maybe herself. ‘Then we’ll ask him to do it again,’ was all Charlotte said.

  Chloe’s lips pursed, a warning that she was about to say something Charlotte wouldn’t like. ‘My real daddy is a headmaster,’ she stated defiantly, ‘so I should be doing lessons with him.’

  Charlotte’s heart sank. In fact he’d been a deputy head, but that was hardly the point. ‘You really don’t need to learn any more of the kind of lessons he was teaching you,’ she told her.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You know why.’

  ‘No I don’t.’

  Her head was hurting too much to argue, so Charlotte simply lay down on the bed with her and pulled her in close. ‘Guess what, I don’t have any friends either,’ she confided flatly.

  ‘But you’ve got me.’

  Charlotte smiled. ‘Of course, and I’m very glad of it. You’re my special friend and my special girl.’

  ‘More special than Elodie?’

  ‘You’re both special.’

  Chloe fell silent, but kept her head against Charlotte, and Charlotte’s heart ached with all the dreadful confusion that was going round in her mind. Social services were in touch; that really wasn’t good. Polly’s experiences with a psychologist were worrying her too. Had Polly ended up handing Roxanne over to a family with no other children, therefore giving up on her, abandoning her even? It would be how Roxanne would see it, while Polly would have done it to protect her marriage and other children – if she’d done it at all.

  The very idea of doing the same with Chloe was making Charlotte feel sick with fear and guilt and a horrible sense of loss, combined with failure and self-loathing.
It was as though she was actually facing the dilemma, which was crazy when no one had suggested she should give Chloe up. The trouble was, she, like anyone else, wanted, needed, to believe that mental-health experts had all the answers; that their counselling and advice amounted to a guaranteed panacea that would work for everyone, but she knew that wasn’t always the case.

  In the end she said, ‘There’s someone coming to see us on Thursday. She’s from family services and I expect she’ll want to talk to you.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘She’ll want to find out why you do what you do at school …’

  ‘I told you, they tell me to do it, so I do.’

  ‘Who tells you?’

  ‘They do.’

  ‘But who are they?’

  ‘The other children. They want me to do it.’

  Relieved that it was children and not what she was thinking, Charlotte said, ‘But how do they even know about it?’

  ‘I don’t know. They just do.’

  ‘Because you showed them?’

  Chloe welled up again. ‘You’re always blaming me,’ she wailed.

  ‘No, no, that’s not true. I know it’s not your fault; I just need you to understand that you have to stop doing it, because if you don’t we’re all going to be in trouble.’

  Silenced by that, Chloe tucked her head close to Charlotte again and closed her eyes. After a while she said, ‘Mummy?’

  ‘Mm?’ Charlotte was sinking below the thumping in her head, almost asleep.

  ‘Will you tell me about my real mummy?’

  Oh god, how was she going to answer that when Erica Wade had been a complete madwoman, and her tragic situation hadn’t been helped by the drugs her husband had kept her on. ‘I didn’t know her very well,’ she finally managed. ‘We only used to meet when I called in to take you to playgroup.’

  ‘Why didn’t she take me?’

  ‘She had an illness that made her afraid of going outside.’

  ‘That’s just silly. No one’s afraid of going outside.’

  ‘Some people are. They’re called agoraphobics.’