by Linda Huber
That afternoon, Katie and the children finished making the cardboard seagulls they had started the week before. They had turned out splendid little creatures, with beady eyes, woolly yellow feet and wings that flapped when their tails were pulled. Each had a string on its back so it could easily be hung up. The children were loud in their enthusiasm.
‘You can pin them to your bedroom ceilings, or hang them in a window,’ said Katie, standing on a chair to pin her own gull above the crafts table, and pulling his tail to set his wings flapping. The children cheered, and Katie looked round the fifteen bright little faces with pride and satisfaction. Even Hailey looked happy for once, and Derek had only bashed someone twice all day. The children were coming together as a group. It was a good feeling.
‘Right, Hailey,’ she said, when the second bus-load of children had disappeared down the school drive. ‘Let’s get going to your place. You can tell me the way.’
She settled the little girl into the back of her car and drove off. Hailey apparently knew exactly where she lived, giving precise directions along the way. Katie nodded to herself. The child might not speak much, but she was receptive to what went on around her.
At the traffic lights, Katie turned in her seat to grin at Hailey, who was sitting still, limply clutching her gull. There was a different – perfume, for want of a better word – coming from the child today and Katie sniffed thoughtfully.
‘That’s a new shampoo you’ve been using, isn’t it? Something herby?’
Hailey’s voice was dreary. ‘It’s the stuff Mummy has to make my hair better. Cam-cama... ’
‘Camomile,’ said Katie. ‘It’ll be conditioner. I use that too.’
Hailey stared and the lights changed before Katie could say more. She drove past the harbour and continued up the hill on the other side of the village. Hailey’s hair certainly needed something, it was dry as a stick, but did such young children usually use conditioner? Frowning, Katie drove into Castle Gardens.
The houses here were large, and well-kept garden bordered on well-kept garden. It was rather an affluent little district, which did nothing to calm the nervous churning in Katie’s middle. She grimaced ruefully. Theoretically, she was the one in charge here, but somehow it never felt like that when she was dealing with Hailey’s mother.
They stopped at the near end of a wide, tree-lined street that reminded Katie of an old American movie. Like the other properties on this street, Hailey’s home was detached, a generously-sized white building with enormous windows on the ground floor and a well-established wisteria climbing up the side.
‘What a lovely big house,’ said Katie, helping Hailey out with her schoolbag and gull.
‘It’s got four loos,’ said Hailey glumly, and Katie couldn’t help laughing at the resigned expression on the child’s face.
‘Four! Well, you’ll have no problems here, then,’ she said teasingly, and a thrill of achievement rushed through her when Hailey actually giggled.
The front door was arch-shaped with two valuable-looking stained glass panels. Katie pressed the bell, and Mrs Marshall answered very promptly.
‘Miss McLure, come in. Hello, Hailey darling. Oh my goodness, what have you brought home today?’
Her words were pleasant, but the tone was brittle, and Katie wondered if the other woman was nervous too.
‘Hello, Mrs Marshall,’ she said warmly. ‘Thank you for agreeing to a visit at such short notice. How are you?’
‘Quite well, thank you. But I do get tired. Hailey darling, run upstairs and change, and then join us in the sitting room.’
The child’s giggling mood was gone now, Katie noticed, though she had smiled brightly when her mother spoke to her. They didn’t get cheesy grins like that at school, thought Katie, looking on in puzzlement as Hailey switched the smile off and walked on upstairs without speaking. The little face was closed again. It was Hailey’s usual expression, devoid of passion, only now it was more so. And this was her home. Dismayed, Katie allowed herself to be led into one of the front rooms.
It was a beautiful, luxurious room. White leather armchairs and a sofa with blue velvet scatter cushions were grouped round a glass-topped coffee table where a tea tray was waiting. Blue-toned oriental rugs contrasted with the gleaming parquet floor, and two display cabinets showed off glassware that was obviously valuable.
‘What a lovely room,’ said Katie, wishing with all her heart that she had thought to wear something else. Her school ‘uniform’ of a sensible grey skirt and checked blouse looked distinctly out of place among all this splendour. It was difficult not to feel like a poor relation.
‘Thank you,’ said Jennifer Marshall. ‘I had people in to do it all, of course. My husband is still away, and I couldn’t do any lifting and carrying myself.’
‘Of course not. And you’d want to have everything finished before the babies come,’ said Katie, sinking into the sofa and trying to look relaxed and in control.
Hailey entered the room silently, now dressed in a blue and white dress, a white band pulled lopsidedly over her wispy hair. Her mother straightened the band and tied the sash, and was rewarded with another bright smile. Katie blinked. That smile didn’t seem natural at all. The child’s face now, in repose, was so solemn it was almost sullen. Katie took a deep breath. This was a good opportunity to bring up her first point.
‘Hailey, you look gorgeous. Mrs Marshall, before I forget, something that would help Hailey when we’re doing outside projects is some casual clothes to change into, like a pair of jeans and a jumper. The children can concentrate better if they don’t have to worry about getting their uniforms dirty.’
Jennifer Marshall inclined her immaculate head. ‘I’ll see to it. Thank you. I’ll just make the tea now. Hailey, why don’t you show Miss McLure your album?’
Hailey fetched a white leather-bound album from a small bookshelf and joined Katie on the sofa. Katie opened the album curiously, and found herself looking at a selection of baby photos.
‘What a pretty baby you were,’ she said, and Hailey stared silently. Katie turned the pages, trying to encourage the child to talk about the photos, but the responses were limited. Hailey as a tiny baby, Hailey’s christening, her first Christmas, Easter and birthday were all catalogued by the usual kind of family snapshot. The album ended just after the birthday photos.
‘Thank you, Hailey. They’re super photos. And now I know what your daddy looks like,’ said Katie, smiling sympathetically when the little girl stared at her again, tears shining in her eyes.
The phone on a table by the door started to ring, and Katie looked expectantly out to the hallway. All was silent, though. Mrs Marshall must have gone to one of the four loos.
‘Should you maybe get that?’ said Katie, and Hailey lifted the phone to her ear. Katie could hear a man’s voice, but Hailey just stood there with no expression on her pale little face. Fortunately, Mrs Marshall sailed back into the room with the teapot and took charge of the phone.
‘Cut off,’ she said, replacing the handset. ‘It was my husband, the connection is often poor. I’ll call him back later.’
Katie accepted a cup of tea and a piece of shortbread, and began to talk about school, feeling more and more awkward all the while. Jennifer Marshall sat there looking polite and unemotional, her perfectly made-up lips pursed slightly while Katie described the aims of the first school year. Hailey was nibbling a digestive, her face still blank. Katie began to wonder if the child was even less talkative at home than at school.
When they had finished tea she turned to Hailey.
‘Hailey, I’d like a quick word alone with Mummy now, so maybe you could go and play in your room for a little while? Afterwards I’ll come and help you hang up your gull, I’m sure Mummy’s not keen on climbing on chairs just now.’
Jennifer Marshall nodded at Hailey, who trailed out, turning back at the door to give Katie a look that was quite incomprehensible. Katie hesitated, wondering how best to start. The atmosphere i
n this house just wasn’t conducive to frank, constructive conversation.
Hailey’s mother began for her.
‘I know you must think Hailey rather peculiar,’ she said. ‘She has reacted very badly to the move, poor darling, and of course she misses her father terribly. Thank goodness he should be back very soon now. Hailey was always such a happy child - before.’
‘Moving house can be very disorientating for a child,’ agreed Katie. ‘I know that from my own experience. Is Hailey able to talk about it? Has she said what she - ’
‘No,’ said Jennifer Marshall, her voice cold. ‘And I’m quite sure the best way is simply to carry on as normal. Hailey will recover, and everything will be alright.’
‘I’m sure it will, but I do think it might help Hailey if she was able to talk through her feelings about the removal, and how much she has missed her father. I’ve only spoken to her about it once, but if she - ’
Jennifer Marshall stood up.
‘No,’ she said emphatically. ‘I must ask you most particularly, indeed I must insist that you do not engage Hailey in that kind of conversation. She lives here now, and will soon be happy again. Now do you need a hammer and nail for that bird, or will a drawing pin do?’
The other woman’s expression was absolutely determined, and Katie realised she would get no further here today. More than a little dismayed by Mrs Marshall’s reaction, she accepted a packet of drawing pins and went upstairs. Quiet elegance was the theme up here too. The generous upstairs landing was covered in thick carpeting and housed two mahogany occasional tables and a small oriental chest. Katie thought wryly of the hallway in her own little flat, cluttered with three overflowing bookcases.
Hailey’s bedroom was predictably luxurious, with pink and white furniture and enough toys to keep the entire class happy all week. The little girl was sitting on the bed holding a baby doll, and Katie sank down beside her. Right now, she felt as glum as Hailey looked. She had failed miserably here today; she had only succeeded in antagonising Mrs Marshall and that was going to be no help at all to Hailey.
‘Where would you like your gull? By the window?’ she asked, and Hailey nodded.
Katie pinned up the gull and returned to the bed, struggling to think of something she could say in two minutes which might help the child.
‘I like your dolly. What’s her name?’ she said at last.
Hailey hugged the doll fiercely. ‘Mummy says she’s called Amelia but I call her Maggie.’
‘Is she your favourite? What else do you like playing with?’
Hailey considered this, then heaved a deep, shaky sigh. ‘I like my Heidi book and my dolls’ tea set. But I wish my bear was here too.’
‘Where is he, then?’ asked Katie, glad that Hailey was speaking openly. It was just a pity that this would have to be a quick conversation, or Mrs Marshall would be coming to see what was taking her so long.
‘At the last house. He didn’t move here with me,’ said the child, tears in her voice.
Katie winced. ‘Oh sweetheart. What rotten luck. Things do get lost sometimes when you move house, but what a pity it was your bear.’
‘Is everything alright?’
Mrs Marshall’s voice came from the landing, and Katie stood up.
‘Perfect. We’ve hung the gull in the window,’ she said, leaving Hailey in her room.
Exactly five minutes later, Katie found herself driving back to the less posh side of Polpayne, having achieved exactly nothing more in the way of frank conversation with Mrs Marshall. She gripped the steering wheel tightly, still stunned by the display of non-emotion she had just witnessed.
No wonder Hailey was so withdrawn. Her mother allowed her no feelings at all at home, and why that should be was anyone’s guess. Hailey needed help, that was clear now, but Mrs Marshall was hardly likely to agree to therapy or counselling. Katie pulled into her parking space and switched the engine off. All she could hope was that Hailey’s dad would put in an appearance soon.
Chapter Thirteen
Jennifer was fuming. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so angry. It was all she could do to contain her wrath for the time it took Miss McLure to hang up that pathetic, battered-looking bird Hailey had made, say goodbye, and go.
How dare she come here and calmly state that Hailey needed help to be happy. Hailey had everything she could wish for. There couldn’t be one single other little girl in this village with as many toys, as beautiful a bedroom – not to mention a place in a private school – and that interfering, do-gooding teacher was saying that Hailey needed more than Jennifer had given her. And as for the suggestion about jeans... Jennifer shuddered. What kind of teacher dressed the children in jeans for their lessons? What a terrible advertisement for the school.
Furious, she paced up and down the immaculate sitting room. Her swollen tummy tightened, and she stood holding it, trembling. She shouldn’t get upset like this, she knew it wasn’t good for the babies.
Jennifer sat down, waiting for the spasm to pass. When it did she went through to the kitchen and filled a glass with water. She deserved a good life now, she had experienced enough of the bad life before. But that was over and done with now, all over. Hailey was right here, and Phillip would soon be home too. And in a few weeks the babies would be born and the family would be complete.
Calmer, Jennifer finished her water then checked her hair and face in the downstairs lavatory. She was in control again now. And the conversation Hailey and Miss McLure had apparently had about moving house needed clarification.
‘Hailey!’ she called up the stairs. ‘Come down here at once, please. I want to talk to you.’
Hailey came immediately, holding a life-size baby doll in both arms. Jennifer smiled. Hailey was playing with her new baby doll. And that dress was so sweet. But the hairband was all over the place again, and as for the hair...
Hailey perched on the edge of the sofa, in exactly the same place Miss McLure had occupied an hour ago. Jennifer bent down until her eyes were level with Hailey’s. The expression on Hailey’s face changed from dull to wide awake in an instant.
‘Hailey, we’ve practised this, a smile alone is not enough. Always say ‘Hello Mummy’ or ‘Thank you’ or whatever might be suitable, as well. Especially with strangers. Is that clear?’
Hailey nodded, and Jennifer raised her eyebrows.
‘Yes Mummy.’
The smile was shaky to say the least, but Jennifer let it pass.
‘And even more important, Hailey. I want you to tell me everything your teacher has ever said to you about moving house. Every last detail, please.’
Hailey sat there, staring at the doll. For a moment Jennifer thought she wasn’t going to answer, but then she spoke, her voice trembling.
‘I don’t remember.’
It was little more than a whisper. She ducked her head down and pressed the doll to her chest.
White-hot rage filled Jennifer and she snatched the doll, flinging it into a corner where it thudded against the wall. Hailey gave a little whimper. Jennifer bent down again.
‘Don’t. You. Dare... ’ she said, poking Hailey’s chest with stiff, vicious fingers. The little girl cringed back against the cushions. ‘Don’t you dare lie to me. Tell me at once what she said.’
Hailey started to cry, and then to Jennifer’s fury she clutched her middle, rolled off the sofa and ran from the room. Jennifer heard the upstairs bathroom door bang shut. She strode up the stairs, her feet thudding against the floor with each step.
Hailey was cowering in the corner of the bathroom, her scrawny arms wrapped around her knees. As soon as Jennifer appeared, she moved towards the toilet bowl and clutched the rim.
‘Don’t you dare be sick,’ said Jennifer. ‘Here.’
She held a cloth under the cold tap and then wiped the child’s face. Hailey stood there trembling, then burped loudly and spat into the bowl. Revulsion filled Jennifer and she yanked the band from Hailey’s head, seized the plastic bot
tle of lemon juice still on the window ledge and emptied the contents over the dull brown hair.
‘Will you please act like a proper daughter?’ she hissed. ‘And for heaven’s sake do something about this hair!’
Hailey was crying loudly now, rubbing lemon juice from her face, her eyes tightly shut.
‘Go to your room,’ said Jennifer coldly, and the child stumbled from the bathroom.
Jennifer returned downstairs, feeling satisfied. She would make herself a sandwich now and watch TV, there was a documentary about twins on soon, that would be interesting. Hailey could just wait for an hour or two, then she might be ready to answer important questions.
It was well after nine when she called Hailey downstairs again. The little girl’s eyes were red-rimmed and she was in her nightie, but she obviously hadn’t done anything about her hair. Jennifer pointed wordlessly at the sofa, struggling to quell the rage that was starting up again.
‘Now Hailey - tell me everything your teacher said to you about moving house. Her exact words, please.’
Hailey, her face set in that annoying blankness, answered promptly now in a nice clear voice. She must have used her time upstairs to think about the question, thought Jennifer. Good.
‘She said it was hard when you moved house. All the new people and new schools and things. She said she moved house when she was little too. She said everything was alright, afterwards. And she said sometimes things get lost and that’s bad luck.’
Jennifer sat unmoving as a wave of fresh, cool relief washed over her. That would do, that would do very well indeed. Maybe Miss McLure wasn’t so bad after all. She had apparently said exactly what Hailey needed to hear.
‘What else?’
‘That’s all,’ Hailey mumbled, her head bowed low.
‘Miss McLure is quite right. I’ve told you the same things myself. And you’re a very lucky girl, you know, to have such a beautiful new home and so many toys. You should be very grateful.’
Hailey didn’t look at all grateful. She sat there, rocking mutely like some stupid imbecile, and frustration welled up in Jennifer again. Hailey was ruining everything. Jennifer gripped the child’s thin arm, squeezing as hard as she could. Hailey’s face crumpled and she gave a little cry. Jennifer shook her.