by Karen Clarke
It struck me too that my sunshine mug hadn’t been in the cupboard the last time I’d looked and I wondered where Dom had found it that morning.
‘Oh, I forget things all the time, can hardly remember what I had for breakfast,’ Olivia – Liv – said, but even in my tired state it seemed she was saying it in a token way, attempting to empathise while her eyes darted around, drinking everything in, almost as though she’d never seen nice things before. A prickle of curiosity stirred. Hadn’t she said she was originally from Stevenage – an odd coincidence – and now lived on Lavender Drive? I vaguely recalled walking down it once, trying to get Finn to sleep in his pushchair, past five or six double-fronted homes set in landscaped gardens.
I wondered which one was Liv’s. Or rather, the house where she worked. Funny that I hadn’t guessed she was Evie’s nanny, though it made sense now she’d told me. I’d assumed the child must take after her father as she looked nothing like Liv. I wondered how she’d become a nanny, but couldn’t muster the energy to ask. It had taken enough effort to find my phone, so we could exchange numbers.
‘So, you don’t work?’ she was saying now.
‘Used to.’ I deposited the food I’d prepared onto plates, slightly nauseated by the sight of the pink, glistening ham with its white edging of fat. ‘TV company, London. Research for a long-running history programme.’ I didn’t ask whether she’d heard of it. Only a twitch of her dark eyebrows betrayed she’d heard me at all. ‘It’s where I met Dom, my husband.’ I put some ham and chopped tomato in one of Finn’s bowls and, without a word, Liv picked it up and passed it to Evie.
I was revising my idea of her becoming a friend when she said again, ‘You can talk to me, you know. Properly, I mean. If you want to. About whatever’s getting you down.’
Her wide grey eyes were avid now, as if trying to see inside my head. I glanced uneasily to where Evie was poking her finger in Finn’s bowl and wished Elizabeth would bring him back. I imagined briefly telling Liv everything; about the difficult pregnancy that made me so sick throughout that I struggled to do my job; the emergency caesarean that ended with Finn being handed straight to Dom while I was given several pints of blood to save my life. About the flashbacks that still plagued me sometimes, and how I’d struggled to bond with Finn for the first few weeks of his life. How I hadn’t wanted to move to St Albans – hadn’t wanted to do anything much. To tell her my mum had sold my childhood home and moved to Portugal, just when I needed her, that Dom worked longer hours than ever and—
‘Sophy?’
I started. Liv was looking at me strangely. My mind stretched and snapped back and I blinked. ‘I … thank you.’ I moved the plates around with an effort, a flustered warmth rising up my neck. ‘Shall we eat at the breakfast bar?’
‘Might as well.’
Evie was pushing a piece of tomato into her mouth with one hand and holding a wooden spoon in the other, her hair a spot of brightness in the kitchen. Liv stopped stroking her hand along the breakfast bar and hoisted herself onto a stool.
‘I’ll give you a tour when we’ve eaten, if you like,’ I said, sitting opposite, awkwardly tugging my dress over my knees and adjusting the scarf, which had slipped from its loop.
‘Sure, why not?’ Liv pushed one side of her hair behind her ear and picked up her fork. She was wearing a similar pair of jeans and top to the ones she’d worn at the baby group and her face was make-up free. I felt overdone in my outfit and worried I’d rubbed my mascara onto my face. ‘You’ve not lived here long.’
It wasn’t a question, but I shook my head as I pushed food around my plate, gripping my fork like a lifeline. ‘A few months.’ I stifled an urge to yawn. ‘Did you say you live on Lavender Drive?’
Liv nodded, swallowing a mouthful of rocket and ham. ‘I live in a nanny pad at the foot of Gary and Clare’s garden, so I’m close by for Evie.’ She looked at me as though expecting a reaction. ‘Have you met them?’
I recalled the disastrous night they came round and felt my neck flush. ‘They had dinner here, just after we moved in.’
‘What did you think of them?’
What was I supposed to say to that? If I told the truth – that I hadn’t warmed to them at all – she might pass it on. ‘They seemed nice,’ I said blandly. ‘How’s the salad?’
Evie started giggling as though I’d said something funny. The sound was infectious and plucked at my insides, but Liv appeared not to notice, ignoring my question.
‘Where did you go to university?’
How did she know I’d gone to university? Colour crept into her cheeks, as if realising she’d been too forward. She was obviously trying too hard.
‘I studied history at the University of Hertfordshire,’ I said, suddenly wanting to make this work, if only so I could tell Dom and Elizabeth I’d made a friend.
Liv’s nose wrinkled. Maybe she couldn’t understand my interest in things that had happened centuries ago. You take after your dad, Mum had said, smiling, the day I came home raving about a school trip to the Roman Theatre in St Albans when I was ten. He always had his head in a history book, couldn’t get enough of the past. I loved having that link to him, hoped he would have been proud of my chosen career.
‘What about you?’ I ate a sliver of ham while I waited for a reply, but it was as if she hadn’t heard. She put down her fork and got off the stool.
‘Do you mind if I use your bathroom?’
I stared, not registering her words.
She lifted one eyebrow. ‘The room where the toilet is?’
‘Top of the stairs, first on the right.’ I watched with vague surprise as she left the kitchen and walked up the curving staircase without a backward glance, as if she wanted to get away from me. I gave my head a shake. I was being silly. She probably just needed the loo. Maybe she felt ill. I hadn’t checked the ham was in date. Or the salad, come to that. What if I’d given her food poisoning? Pushing my plate aside, I stood up, my head foggy and my eyelids droopy. ‘Hey, you.’ I lifted Evie from the highchair and took her through to the living room where I deposited her on the rug. Sitting beside her, I stretched my legs out and leant my back against the sofa. It was odd, seeing a little girl in the house instead of Finn, who seemed more robust than Evie despite being nine months younger.
Evie picked up a cloth book then lifted her head and studied me with her huge, blue eyes. To my surprise, she clambered into my lap and, resting against me, put her thumb in her mouth. Feeling the weight of her – surprisingly heavy – brought unexpected tears to my eyes. It was such a trusting gesture; as if Evie didn’t understand how inept I was and thought I’d take care of her. My arms automatically folded around her and we sat quietly, the only sound her gentle breathing and the tick of the old-fashioned gold clock on the mantelpiece that had been a wedding gift from Elizabeth and Robert.
A feeling of peace stole over me and my eyelids drifted shut, mind wandering to my wedding day; a simple ceremony in the grounds of a hotel that used to be a church – the one where my parents had married – on a perfect, windless summer’s day that was only slightly tinged with sadness because my father wasn’t there.
‘Evie!’
My eyes snapped open. I was back in the living room, Liv towering over us. Bending down, she almost snatched Evie from me. ‘Sorry about that,’ she said.
‘No, no, it’s fine.’ I struggled to get to my feet, feeling clumsy and slow. ‘She’s lovely; we were having a cuddle.’
‘We should get going.’ Her voice was curt and Evie tried to lean away from her, tears springing to her eyes. ‘It’s time for her sleep.’
‘What about the tour of the house?’ I said stupidly. ‘Evie could nap in the nursery.’
But Liv had hurried into the hall and was stuffing her feet in a pair of loosely laced trainers. ‘Thanks for lunch.’
I followed her on legs that felt like rubber. ‘You’re not ill, are you?’
‘What?’ Turning, she gave me an unreadable look. ‘No,
I’m not ill.’ She seemed to wrestle with some emotion I couldn’t decipher. ‘I’ll see you soon, OK?’
‘I don’t think I’ll go to the baby group again.’ It came out almost before I knew I was going to say it. ‘It’s not for me.’
Liv became still. ‘It’s not for me either, to be honest.’
It sounded unguarded and, for the first time, I felt like I’d glimpsed a proper person behind the mask. ‘We could go somewhere else,’ I said. ‘If you like.’
‘Maybe.’ As she leant back awkwardly to grab Evie’s buggy, her coat hanging over the handle, she nodded at the door. ‘Could you …?’
As she settled Evie in the pushchair, I reached past and turned the latch, shivering as a breeze crept around my ankles. The sky had darkened and fat raindrops pattered on the gravel driveway. ‘Monday?’ I asked as Liv moved past, one arm in her coat, the other bumping the pushchair down the steps before I could offer to help. ‘Half eleven?’
I thought she nodded, but couldn’t bring myself to call after her. Why was I even bothering? She didn’t seem to like me that much, yet even through the layer of padding in my brain, I sensed she needed a friend as much as I did.
As I shut the door and sagged against it, a more pressing question occurred.
Where was Elizabeth?
Chapter 9
Liv
I pulled up the hood on the pushchair against the rain, guilt surging through me. Head down, I pounded up The Avenue, one hand pushing Evie, the other in the pocket of my jeans, feeling the necklace I’d taken from Sophy’s bedroom. It had looked special somehow, and I felt sure she would miss it. But once I was downstairs, I had to get out of her house, afraid she would see the shape of it in my pocket. Afraid I would give myself away. I’d never taken anything in my life before. Even when the kids in my youth club pinched sweets from the local shop, I’d raced outside onto the street, scared of being caught.
‘Sorry!’ I bumped into a woman hovering behind the hedge and swerved around her, not looking up. I needed to get back to Lavender Drive.
As I wheeled a sleeping Evie into the kitchen, Clare was propping her bulging suitcase near the door.
‘Hey, Olivia,’ she said, fluttering her fingers, she’d obviously been at the nail salon, judging by her blood-red talons. ‘You look a bit wet and harassed. Is it raining?’
No, I’ve just taken a shower in my clothes. I removed my jacket, not bothering to answer her question. ‘Going away?’
‘Sorrento,’ she said.
‘Sorrento?’ I grabbed my forehead. I’d completely forgotten. ‘Is that this weekend?’
She nodded, tears filling her eyes. She could turn on the waterworks at the flick of a switch. ‘Please don’t say you’ve forgotten, Olivia. It’s our wedding anniversary, and Gary’s booked the honeymoon suite at a six-star hotel.’
Is there such a thing? ‘Of course I haven’t forgotten,’ I said, knowing if she kept crying Evie would join in, and I’d need to build a bloody dam out of Duplo. The fact was, Clare’s parents had spoiled her, Gary spoiled her, and her friends, who she tended to pick with care, only recruiting those who rallied round her, also spoiled her. She struggled with the words ‘you can’t have’ – they weren’t allowed in her vocabulary.
‘Thank God,’ she said. ‘I thought for a minute—’
‘It’s fine.’ It wasn’t. It would have been Ben’s birthday on Sunday, and I’d promised Mum I would go and stay for the weekend; that we would visit his grave together. I’d honestly thought Clare and Gary’s anniversary was the following weekend. I didn’t want to drag Evie to Mum’s, but it looked as though I would have to. I opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. ‘When do you leave?’ I said, unscrewing the lid and taking a gulp.
‘Well it’s all gone a bit pear-shaped, if I’m honest.’ She caught sight of herself in the mirror – the house was full of mirrors, which I particularly hated – and she touched her cheek, admiring her reflection. She was pretty, and hadn’t had fillers like a couple of her friends.
‘Why? What’s happened?’
She turned to meet my eye. ‘Gary’s getting a later flight. He can’t get out of work until nine. So it’s just little old me taking off at six. I could wait for him, I suppose, but the thought of flying during the night would totally mess up my sleep pattern, and I know I’d be a total grumpy-pants, and look pasty and unattractive on our first day.’ She glanced at the oversized clock on the wall. ‘My taxi will be here shortly.’ She looked down at Evie. ‘I’m guessing she’s not going to wake up so I can give her a big goodbye hug.’
Normally when they went away, I stayed in the main house with Evie, but the thought of being here when Gary returned filled me with dread. I would take Evie to my pad. Clare didn’t have to know.
A toot of a horn, and Clare slipped on her lilac leather jacket, and grabbed her matching case. ‘I’ll see you on Monday evening,’ she said, and was gone before I could say goodbye.
The inconsiderate slam of the front door woke Evie and she began to cry. ‘Oh, little one,’ I said, lifting her from the pushchair, and jiggling her on my hip. Once she’d stopped crying, I made my way into the lounge and sat Evie on the floor with her toys. While she was playing, I pulled Sophy’s necklace from my pocket and dangled it in front of my eyes. It was a filigree butterfly on a delicate silver chain. I smiled, now over my guilt at being a thief. I wanted her to miss it. Worry that she’d lost it. Doubt herself.
There was a noise behind me, and I spun round, my heart thudding against my chest. The local newspaper had landed on the doormat.
I looked back at the necklace.
I would meet Sophy on Monday, and take more than her necklace. I would take her already frayed sanity.
It was almost ten o’clock when three fist-thumps landed on the nanny-pad window.
I had got Evie off to sleep about an hour before, and was reading when the sound disturbed me.
I got up, and turned out the light, so I could look through the gap in the curtains. The security light was on, and the sight of him so close to the glass, staring in, startled me. Gary.
He raised his hand as I pulled back the curtain, and pointed towards the front door. ‘Open up, Liv,’ he ordered. ‘I want to say goodbye to Evie.’
‘She’s asleep,’ I called back. I didn’t want to let him in. I didn’t trust him. God only knew what Gary was capable of with Clare in Italy.
‘I don’t care,’ he said. ‘She’s my daughter, and I want to see her.’ He headed towards the door and banged on it. ‘Let me in.’
It took a moment for me to realise he’d got a key, and was turning it in the lock. I could hardly stop him. He owned the place.
The door opened and he stepped in, his height almost filling the doorway.
‘Da da da da.’ I turned to the sound of Evie; relieved she was awake and smiling. I felt sure he wouldn’t try anything with his daughter awake, would he?
‘Hello there, little one,’ he said, crouching down where I’d laid her on the sofa, and covered her with a blanket.
After a moment, he was straightened up, stepped towards me. ‘You led me on, Liv. You’re a tease. A flirt.’
‘What?’ I moved backwards.
Another step forward. ‘That’s why I gave you this job, Liv. Now you need to fulfil your side of the bargain.’
‘Now wait a minute, Gary,’ I said, cross with myself for trembling, as I moved into the kitchen area. ‘You’ve got it wrong. I was just being friendly that day in the park.’
‘Bullshit.’ He gripped my upper arms, and pushed me hard against the worktop, his face moving closer to mine.
‘Get off me, you fucking bastard,’ I yelled, bringing my knee up between his legs. He cowered in pain, before rising up and slapping my face.
There was a thud and sudden scream behind us. Evie had fallen from the sofa onto the floor. Gary turned, and ran towards his daughter, lifted her into his arms. I stared for a moment, wanting to be sure Evie was OK befo
re running towards the door. ‘Text me when you’re about to leave for Sorrento and I’ll come back and look after Evie,’ I said as I left. He didn’t deserve it, but it wasn’t the kid’s fault her dad was an arsehole.
As I ran up the garden, not sure what I would do until he was gone, my thoughts slammed back to Sophy; I would tell her about Gary. Persuade her she needed a nanny to look after Finn.
Chapter 10
Sophy
‘You don’t look very well.’
‘Thanks a lot, Mum.’ It was our regular Saturday morning call.
‘Are you sleeping OK?’
‘I’ve a teething nine-month-old, what do you think?’ I felt a stab of guilt, remembering how Dom did more than his fair share of nights with Finn, despite having to get up early for work every morning.
‘Maybe you need some vitamin D,’ she said. ‘You don’t get enough sunshine over there, especially at this time of year.’
‘Actually, I’m taking a course of vitamins.’ I brightened my tone. ‘Dom’s sister recommended them.’
‘Well, that’s good.’ Mum’s freckled face loomed at the screen. ‘How’s my grandson?’ she said, as though trying to spot him in the background. She looked tanned and healthy, and at least five years younger than when she moved to Portugal. It was easy to see why Tomas, ten years her junior, who she’d met on a wine-tasting trip to Arrábida with a friend, worshipped the ground she walked on.
‘He’s having a nap; he’s tired.’ I glanced at myself in the corner of the screen and winced. I looked pasty, shadows beneath my eyes despite doing my best with some concealer before our weekly call. My hair was lank, while my mother’s fell in auburn waves to her shoulders, and her blue-green eyes held a sparkle that was missing from mine.