The Accusation

by Zosia Wand

  ‘I don’t hate him.’

  ‘He let me do what I wanted to do, not what you thought was best for me. I didn’t miss out on anything. It was better! We went travelling, together. We worked abroad, for God’s sake! It was better than your plan for me.’ Her eyes narrow. ‘But that’s it, isn’t it? That’s what needles you. He loves me. You say you love me, but it has to be on your terms. You love Evangeline. You love the version of me that fits your plan. You don’t love Eve. You don’t love the adult I’ve become,’ and I’m right. The look on her face says it all. She is repulsed by this attack. ‘You can’t love Eve. He does. That’s what you can’t stand: he loves me better than you do.’

  Her expression is stone now. ‘You think so.’ She nods, slowly. ‘What can I say? After all I’ve done for you. To have it thrown back in my face. Well, you can see it that way if you prefer, but I know you, Evangeline. You used to dream big. You wanted it all. You believed you could have it all and he robbed you of that. He’s a small-town boy. Oh, he works hard, I’ll grant you, but there’s nothing special about him. He’s a plodder and he’s dragged you up here to this backwater and stamped out your spark. I’ve watched it happen. It’s broken my heart, but it’s going to be all right. You’ve got me, and I’ll see you through this, I promise.’

  ‘Neil’s not a danger to Milly.’

  ‘Let the professionals decide about that.’

  ‘He’d never do anything to hurt her. He loves Milly. He wouldn’t!’

  ‘You think that.’

  ‘I believe it!’

  ‘You believed he was honest with you. You believed he had no other children. He raped that girl.’

  ‘It’s not true! I refuse to believe that.’ I am crying now. ‘Neil would never do that.’

  I am no match for her. She lowers her voice. Slow. Calm. ‘What you need to consider, Evangeline, is that it could be true. I know it’s difficult. I know it’s awful, abhorrent, it doesn’t bear thinking about and you don’t want to believe it, of course you don’t, but…’ She pauses, glances at Milly’s abandoned hoodie on the back of the chair, and then at me, her eyes two lasers burning into mine. ‘Could you ever forgive yourself if you were wrong?’

  28

  I am spent. My outrage has taken every last drop of energy and what did it achieve? I haven’t heard from Neil and all I can do is wait in limbo to see what the decision will be about Milly. I refuse the pills Mum brings to my bedside. I sleep and sleep. Later, when she offers a bowl of stew, I tell her to leave me to eat it and flush it down the toilet when she’s gone. I lose track of time. The doorbell pierces the fog. I force myself up, mouth like tracing paper. Mum answers it. Shona’s voice. I get to the top of the stairs and see Mum blocking the door. Shona is speaking. ‘I really must insist that you let us in, Mrs Leonard.’

  ‘My daughter is not up to visitors.’

  ‘This is not a social call. We’re here to conduct an emergency review meeting. We must see Eve and Milly. If you don’t let us in I’ll have to alert the police.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’

  ‘Mum!’ She spins round, and in that moment, Shona steps into the hall with Helen behind her. ‘Eve! Thank God! I’ve been worried sick about you!’

  ‘She’s perfectly fine,’ Mum insists tartly. ‘I’m taking care of her.’

  I don’t feel perfectly fine, I feel like a shadow person, I have no substance and all I want to do is crawl back under the duvet, but my head is a little clearer than it has been. I grip the banister for support and descend into the hall like an elderly woman. ‘Let’s sit down in the living room. Mum, could you make us some tea?’

  She throws me a look of such fury it nearly knocks me over, but I hold onto the newel post and concentrate on Shona and the strength that’s emanating from her. She is sassy and confident. Beside her, Helen looks like a schoolgirl in her skinny jeans and denim jacket.

  Milly’s in the living room, staring listlessly at the television. It’s a cookery programme, but I don’t think she’s registering what’s on the screen. She turns her head slowly as we enter the room and perks up a little on seeing Shona and Helen, but she’s not the bright, exuberant little girl that came to live with us. She’s troubled. We’ve troubled her. I sit down and scoop her up onto my lap and she clings to me for a moment, but soon wriggles free. ‘Too hot?’ I ask, and she nods, but she remains close, thigh to thigh, and I hold her hand.

  Mum brings in the tea. Four cups. Milly says, ‘Where’s my tea?’

  ‘Don’t be silly. Little girls don’t drink tea.’

  ‘I want tea!’

  ‘What have I told you about, I want?’

  ‘Tea!’

  Mum glares at Milly and holds out her hand. ‘You can come with me, young lady!’

  Shona intervenes before I can. ‘I don’t think that will be necessary.’

  ‘Well, I’m afraid I do.’

  ‘We’d prefer Milly to stay here, with us, Mrs Leonard. The purpose of our visit is to check on Milly.’

  ‘You can be assured she’s absolutely fine. I’m taking care of her.’

  Helen says, ‘But you haven’t been approved as a suitable carer for Milly.’

  My mother’s entire body is rigid. She does not take kindly to be spoken down to by a woman young enough to be her granddaughter. ‘I beg your pardon?’

  Helen flushes pink. Shona steps in. ‘Milly is still a “looked after” child and the responsibility of Cumbria County Council Children’s Services. Neil and Eve have been carefully vetted and approved by us to take care of Milly until the adoption order is granted. If they’re unable to take care of her, for whatever reason, we must be alerted and we’ll make alternative arrangements. The most suitable arrangement for Milly would be for her to return to her foster family.’

  ‘I’m her grandmother!’

  Helen says, ‘Not yet, you’re not.’

  *

  Helen conducts the review meeting. Mum refuses to leave the room. ‘I’m here to support my daughter.’

  Milly’s anxious about Neil. ‘Where is he? When can I see him?’ She whispers to Shona that she wants Mum to leave. ‘Don’t like her.’ Mum blushes scarlet. Helen writes all this down. They’ll take Milly away if I am not seen to be competent. I need to pull myself together.

  ‘I haven’t been feeling too good,’ I explain, trying to sound in control. ‘It was a shock.’

  Helen nods. ‘It’s a dreadful situation for you.’

  ‘Mum has been a huge support. I’m so grateful to her, but I’m OK now. I can cope. You don’t need to worry. Can you tell me what’s happening with Neil?’

  Shona says, ‘You haven’t spoken to him?’ I shake my head. She frowns.

  ‘Has he said anything?’

  ‘He’s been very cooperative. He wants to resolve this matter as quickly as possible.’ Mum snorts. Shona ignores her. ‘I do think it would be a good idea to talk to him.’

  Mum interrupts. ‘I can’t imagine what he can say that would redeem him. My daughter will decide for herself if she ever wishes to speak to him again.’

  I look at Milly. She’s glaring at Mum. She begins to growl, softly at first, but increasing in volume and then she barks. Mum shakes her head, sternly.

  ‘Mrs Leonard,’ Shona’s voice is firm, ‘could you leave us alone for a moment?’

  ‘Absolutely not.’

  ‘I’d like to talk to Milly and her mother on their own.’

  ‘I am staying with my daughter.’

  Milly starts to growl again. Shona looks at me. ‘Mum, please, could you give us a minute?’

  ‘I’m not leaving you.’

  Another bark, and then a long, wretched howl. ‘Milly, stop that, please!’ I turn back to Mum. ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘I’ll be the judge of that.’

  ‘No, I will be.’

  Milly stops howling abruptly and looks up at me. Her eyes flare, geeing me on. She needs me to be strong. I have to prove that I can stand up to my mother or th
ey’ll take Milly away. ‘You’re not helping, Mum. Please go.’

  ‘Well, that’s charming! Is this the way to treat your mother? Is this what you’re teaching your daughter?’ She glares at Shona. ‘Is this the sort of behaviour you condone?’

  Shona says, ‘I think Eve’s made her feelings clear.’

  Momentarily beaten, Mum turns on her heel and retreats, leaving the door open behind her. Shona gets up and closes it.

  There’s a moment of silence as we wait for the room to settle around us. I lower myself into the armchair, my knees trembling. Milly climbs onto my lap and asks, ‘Who is your mummy?’

  For a moment I think she must be talking to Shona, but she twists round to look me in the eyes. ‘My mummy?’ She nods. ‘It’s Grandma, darling. You know that.’

  She shakes her head. ‘Not that mummy. Your proper mummy.’

  ‘She is my proper mummy.’

  Milly shakes her head as if this is unacceptable to her.

  Helen leans in. ‘Milly, why do you think Grandma isn’t Mummy’s proper mummy?’

  Milly shrugs and stares at her feet. ‘She maked her sick.’

  Helen looks at me, thoughtful for a moment, and then turns to Milly. ‘Where’s Gerry Giraffe?’

  ‘Hiding.’

  ‘Who from?’

  ‘Grandma.’ I wince, but Helen and Shona remain focused on Milly.

  Shona says, ‘Do you want to go and see if he’s all right? He might want a cuddle.’ As soon as Milly’s run out of the room, Shona turns to me. ‘Eve, I think you have to tell your mother to leave. For the sake of your family.’

  ‘What are they saying? Do they think Neil did it?’

  She watches me for a long moment and I wish I hadn’t asked. I don’t want to hear the answer. ‘Eve, all I can say is that there’s no police evidence, but they are making enquiries.’

  ‘Has he denied it?’

  She hesitates and in that moment everything disintegrates around me. ‘Phone him, Eve. Talk to him.’

  ‘He doesn’t want to talk to me.’

  She glances at Helen. They exchange a frown. ‘He told me he’s called you, repeatedly. And texted.’

  ‘I haven’t heard from him.’

  ‘He told us you sent a text telling him not to communicate with you.’

  We look at one another. While the thought is still forming in my mind Shona asks, ‘Where’s your phone?’

  29

  Mum’s adamant she did nothing wrong. ‘I was only doing what any mother would do! I was protecting my daughter!’

  She sounds so reasonable. She always does.

  Shona offered to stay and I was tempted to accept the offer, to lean on someone normal with a grip on things who could sort this out for me, but I can’t do that any more. I’m a mother now. I have family and that family is under threat.

  I try and speak like Neil; a teacher, firm, rational. ‘You lied to me.’

  ‘I didn’t lie. I just didn’t see the need to upset you unnecessarily. I wanted you to have some peace.’

  ‘I’ve been worried sick!’ Too emotional. Keep it down. Don’t let her do this.

  ‘Because of what he did. You don’t need to listen to his excuses. He’ll only manipulate you and twist things and you won’t know what to believe.’

  She sounds so plausible. My head’s spinning. I don’t know what to think any more. I need to speak to Neil. ‘Give me my phone.’

  ‘I think the battery’s dead.’

  ‘Give it to me!’

  She rummages in her bag. ‘There really is no need to get hysterical. You’re starting to frighten me, Evangeline.’

  Deep breaths. Counting. Don’t lose it. ‘My phone.’

  She lets go before I’ve managed to grasp it and the phone clatters to the floor, the back coming away, sim card sliding free. I bend down and collect up the pieces. It shouldn’t be a problem. One of the reasons I keep this old phone is because it’s robust. I place the sim card inside and slide the back into place. The screensaver photograph I took of Neil and Milly has disappeared leaving a black nothingness against which the white digits spell out an incorrect time and date. I select menu and the yellow envelope to check my messages, but there are none.

  ‘Where are my messages?’

  Mum shrugs. ‘Don’t ask me!’

  The battery’s almost dead. ‘The charger?’ She looks at me blankly. ‘Where’s my charger?’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe Neil took it.’

  It’s possible that in dropping the phone I’ve somehow lost my message history. The screensaver always disappears, but the photographs are still stored and can be re-established. My messages usually reappear automatically. Not this time.

  My mother’s watching me, alert, trying to read what I’m going to do next. I need to phone Neil, but I’m not going to do that with her listening. Her eyes are like pins holding me in place. My chest is tight. I struggle to breathe. ‘I’m going to take Milly out and get some fresh air.’

  ‘But it’s late. She needs to eat and get ready for bed. It’s getting dark outside.’

  I don’t have the energy to argue. Sliding the phone into my pocket, I ask, ‘What’s for tea?’

  She brightens at this. ‘Fish pie. I got a lovely bit of salmon at the fishmonger’s today.’

  ‘I’ll get Milly bathed and into her pjs and she can eat with us.’

  She smiles.

  *

  I call Neil from the bathroom, while the bath’s running. He picks up the phone but doesn’t speak. ‘Neil?’ I can hear him breathing, but no words. I don’t have long; the battery icon is red. ‘Neil? I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you’d been trying to call me. She took my phone. And I’ve been completely out of it. I didn’t…’ What can I say? How can he ever forgive me? ‘I lost my mind for a bit. I lost… Neil, I am so… Please, please don’t let her win.’

  He sighs. And that sigh is an opening. I hold my breath and wait. But when his voice comes it isn’t the weary, we’ve-been-here-before tone I’m hoping for, but something else. Something shattered. Sharp shards. ‘What if it’s true?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘What if I did do it?’

  ‘Of course you didn’t! You’re not a rapist!’

  ‘I don’t know, Eve. I can’t remember. I was drunk. I thought – but maybe… She wouldn’t talk to me. I called her. I went round there, but her dad… and then she disappeared. And I’ve always wondered if it was me. If it was something I’d done.’

  ‘You wouldn’t do that. You couldn’t.’

  ‘I was eighteen and drunk. What if I misread – if she… How can I be sure?’

  ‘I’m sure.’

  He’s quiet.

  My phone dies.

  I stare at the blank screen. I didn’t tell him I love him.

  *

  The bath is full. I turn off the taps. My mother calls me from downstairs.

  All our life together Neil’s intervened and protected me. I haven’t recognised it as that, but I’ve appreciated the benefits. I have this life here in Tarnside, I have this family, because he rescued me. Now he needs me.

  I tell Mum I’m bathing Milly and will be down shortly. While Milly plays in the bath, I pack a small backpack: underwear and a change of clothes for me and Milly, toothbrushes and toothpaste, anything else we can buy. Slipping out of the front door, I take the bag down to the bottom garden where I throw it over the wall into the rhododendron bush on the other side. The tarn winks in the evening sun. I take it as a sign of support.

  *

  Mum’s in the kitchen when Milly and I creep out. I tell Milly it’s a game, but I think she understands that it’s more serious than that. She tiptoes downstairs, holding her breath until we get outside, and then she grips my hand tightly as we hurry down the garden towards the park. I expect a shout at any moment, my mother to be watching from the window, ‘Evangeline!’ and I’m half laughing at myself and half appalled that at forty years of age I’m so frightened of m
y mother, I’m having to run away.

  I lift Milly over the wall, my heart bouncing against my ribs.

  30

  I call Lizzie from the office and tell her, briefly, what I need to do. She’s surprisingly alert to the situation, agreeing to drive over to the park and drop us at the station and asking no questions. But then she knows everything. She was there when Mum decided to air our dirty laundry in front of everyone I work with. She will have been appalled. She will have read between the lines. This is a small town and Neil and I have not been here long. We will always be off-comers, but we have earned respect in this community. We have friends. Lizzie knows who we are. Lizzie is loyal.

  The trains out of Tarnside are, more or less, every hour. We’re lucky, there’s one leaving in twenty minutes. Lizzie arrives with a small holdall which, she tells me, has some bits and pieces for the journey, stops at the cashpoint so I can draw out some money, and parks up to walk us to the platform. She’s focused on Milly, chatting non-stop, but keeping a careful eye on me. Still no questions and though I’m surprised, I’m also relieved. Maybe she’s spoken to Neil. I want to ask her, but as the train pulls in, a single rickety carriage, she wraps her arms around me and pulls me close. ‘He’s a good man,’ she whispers into my ear. ‘Find out the truth.’

  Her faith in Neil, in us, is a shot of hope and as I step onto the train I shake off any remaining doubts.

  At Carnforth, we get off to wait for a connection to Leeds. I take Milly’s hand. Her small, plump hand in mine. I can feel that connection, something merging between our palms and I never want to let her go. She is the reason for everything now.

  The retro café that’s based on the tea room in the film Brief Encounter is closed and we have a long, cold wait for our connecting train. We press our noses to the glass and peek in. I imagine a black and white Celia Johnson and Trevor Howard leaning in close over one of the little tables and explain to Milly how the production company had to use this rural station to avoid the bombs in London. Milly yawns. I look at my watch. It’s almost eight o’clock. She’ll be exhausted by the time we get to Leeds. ‘Why don’t we stop here tonight?’