by Sue Welfare
There was so much love in their faces, so much hope and joy and optimism caught in that single glance. Even now, after all these years, Suzie sometimes caught her dad looking at her mum in the same tender way and the look still tugged at her heart strings. How the hell had they managed to keep it like that, so fresh, so tangible and so alive after all those years together? She had always been aware that there was something really special between them, and for an instant Suzie felt envious and tired.
For years she and Sam had been best friends, best of everything to each other but recently it felt like she was running a marathon with him, all work and no reward, struggling to keep something going that felt battered and heavy and dead in the water. While she loved Sam dearly, at the moment it felt like their love, their marriage, was a bit dog-eared and beaten down by life. It was a real shame because in lots of ways the rest of their lives had got better and better over the last few years.
Once Hannah and Megan had started school, Suzie had gone back to college to take a horticultural course. After a few years of odd jobs and scrabbling around for work, a chance conversation in the local shop had led to the local estate owner offering to let her take over the running of a dilapidated Victorian walled kitchen garden, which belonged to the manor house just up the road from where Suzie, Sam and the girls lived.
‘Take over’ had proved to be a bit of a joke; there had been nothing to take over besides the lovely old brick walls covered in ivy, with buddleia and elder growing out of them, a dilapidated row of greenhouses, a few crumbling sheds and a cluster of outbuildings in various states of disrepair. Suzie had spent months clearing out brambles and nettles, bed frames, bicycles and broken glass.
But now, five years on, with the help of a start-up grant from the local council, Suzie had it up and running, selling vegetables and fruit and opening to the public for a few weekends over the course of the year. Then there had been the newspaper column and a regular slot on local radio, garden design work and various commissions to help other people set up productive gardens. Unknowingly she had stepped into the vegetable garden, ‘grow your own’ business at just the right moment.
Now, Suzie had kids coming from local schools and students to help out, as well as half a dozen dedicated volunteers, and so she had been able to turn her passion into a full-time job.
Meanwhile Sam had been busy working as an IT manager in a local electronics company, which had fared remarkably well over the last few years despite the recession – a large part of which was down to Sam’s management style, and the previous year he had been offered the job of Managing Director.
In some ways their lives couldn’t be better. They should have been happy – except that hadn’t proved to be the case. The last couple of years or so, Sam had seemed increasingly distant and cool and a long, long way from the warm, happy, relaxed man she had married.
And now of course there was Matt, and all the potential trouble that he brought with him. Having read a feature about the walled garden in the local paper he had turned up one day to take a look around. Six foot three in his expensive hand-tooled brogues, dressed in designer jeans and a white shirt open at the neck to reveal a light natural tan and just the merest hint of chest hair, he was a feast for the eye. And from the first moment she had clapped eyes on him Suzie had had no doubt that he was trouble. Trouble with a capital T.
‘You know what you need, don’t you?’ he’d purred as she showed him around one of the newly restored greenhouses. Suzie had looked up at him, not daring to ask.
That had been just over a year ago. Suzie glanced across to the servery area where Matt was helping one of the girls sorting out champagne glasses. As if sensing her looking at him, he looked up and smiled and then winked at her. Suzie felt herself redden. This was madness; she really needed to talk to Sam about him before someone else did.
‘Suzie?’ At the sound of her name, Suzie swung round.
‘You made me jump,’ she said, flustered, wondering if her face betrayed her thoughts.
‘Are you all right?’ Sam asked, looking concerned.
‘Yes, I’m fine, just thinking,’ she said, waving the words away and pasting on a smile. ‘There’s just so much to do. How’s it going out there?’
‘Well, the good news is the band are on their way here, they shouldn’t be long.’ He looked across the marquee towards their daughter Megan, who was still valiantly shaking out tablecloths. ‘I see you’ve found Megan. Do you have any idea where Hannah is? She said she’d help me put up the fairy lights and pin up the photos on the boards.’
‘I haven’t seen her for a while,’ said Suzie, glancing over her shoulder in a lame attempt to track her down. ‘Megan said she was around earlier.’
‘We know that,’ Sam said, sounding exasperated. ‘I was hoping you might know where she is now.’
‘Hannah did promise she’d be here,’ said Suzie.
Sam sighed. ‘Yes, well we all know what Hannah’s famous promises are like at the moment, don’t we? You know, you’re way too soft on her, Suzie – always making excuses. You’re going to have to make it plain that you’re not going to put up with this kind of behaviour. She knows tonight is important to you and that you need her to be here.’
‘We,’ said Suzie, feeling a flare of indignation.
‘What?’
‘We need her here, Sam. She promised both of us. You make it sound as if she is nothing to do with you.’
‘There are days . . .’ he said grimly, before turning to Megan and yelling, ‘Megan!’ Their younger daughter swung around as if she had been bitten.
‘Oh, that’s right,’ said Suzie. ‘Have a go at the one who did show up and is helping, that’ll really help things go with a swing.’
‘I wasn’t going to have a go at her, I was just going to ask her if she knew where Hannah was,’ protested Sam. ‘Is that all right with you?’
Suzie stared at him not knowing what to say. Exactly how had things got this bad between them? They never used to be snippy and sharp with each other; they had always been not just lovers but best friends. Yet now all they seemed to do was snap at each other.
Tablecloth in hand, caught like a rabbit blinking in the headlights, Megan was standing very still as she watched the two of them.
‘I’ve already asked Megan – she doesn’t know where Hannah is either, do you, honey?’ said Suzie. Megan, still rooted to the spot, swallowed hard. ‘It’s all right, don’t look so worried, you’re fine,’ Suzie said with a wave. ‘You’re doing a great job. And the tables look great, don’t they?’
It wasn’t hard to see where Megan had been; each table had been neatly laid with a white linen table and a ruby red linen top cover and in the centre of each table a cut-glass bowl of roses, greenery and a froth of gypsophila.
‘Yes, but it doesn’t really help us find Hannah, does it?’ said Sam with a frustrated sigh.
Megan smiled at her mum and dad and said not a word.
Chapter Five
Hannah made a point of staying off the main road, instead cutting between the houses and cottages, along the back lanes and down the footpath to the Rec, just in case her mum and dad were looking for her. The last thing she wanted was a lecture on how irresponsible she was and how everyone had to pull their weight. When she got to the gate of the playing field Hannah slowed down; it wouldn’t be cool to look as if she had hurried.
The Rec was on a slight incline, flanked on two sides by the church yard, with a footpath cutting through it, the neatly clipped grass rolling down past sandpits and swings, a roundabout and slides, to the village hall, and beyond that the football pitch, the pavilion, the bowling green and then the road.
Sadie was sitting on the swings, all alone in the play park.
‘You took your time,’ said Sadie as Hannah, with forced nonchalance, ambled over to where Sadie was sitting. Sadie was chewing gum. ‘We didn’t think you were going to show up. Me and the lads were just thinking about going down the river, maybe h
aving a swim or something.’
‘I’d got stuff to do,’ said Hannah.
‘Right, yeah. For the party,’ said Sadie, more statement than question.
‘Yeah, for the party.’
‘So, did you bring any booze with you then?’ Sadie asked as Hannah sat down alongside her. Sadie had her heels buried in the bark chippings, her legs braced and arms at full stretch so it looked as if at any second she might launch herself into space. There was no sign of either Simon or Tucker.
‘No,’ said Hannah, starting to swing backwards and forwards. ‘No one said anything about bringing any booze.’
‘Oh come on, you could have brought something,’ Sadie said. ‘Least you could do, seeing as we weren’t invited to your stupid party.’
‘I told you, it’s not my party,’ replied Hannah. ‘If it had been mine you could have come. It’s more like a family do, you know.’
‘Right and so, what? You couldn’t invite any of your friends? Nice family you’ve got,’ said Sadie, lighting up a cigarette and taking a long pull on it. ‘Or is it just your nice friends who can come?’
Hannah didn’t know what to say, because the truth was that her mum had said she could invite anyone she liked, although Hannah knew that what her mum really meant was anyone she liked, and Suzie definitely didn’t like Sadie. So Hannah hadn’t even bothered to ask if she could come. Her mum didn’t think Sadie was a good influence, and Hannah knew without a shadow of a doubt that Suzie was right.
‘Yeah well, you know what my mum’s like,’ she said. ‘Like really straight, anything out of left field like you lot showing up and she’d go mental.’
Sadie sniggered. Hannah joined her.
Sadie was different and funny and her mum let her stay out as late as she liked and treated her like an adult, and she didn’t check up on her all the time. Sadie’s mum treated Sadie like she was a proper person with her own opinions and everything. Sadie came and went as she liked, wore what she liked, ate what she liked – and her mother trusted her, at least that’s what Sadie said. ‘She doesn’t treat me like I’m a baby – it’s always been like that. I live my life, she lives hers. It’s the way things should be.’
They had been listening to music up in Sadie’s bedroom when Sadie had been telling Hannah this, and ironically enough, just at that moment, Hannah’s mum had sent her a text to tell her that supper was ready and to remind her that she had homework to do – just like she was a little kid or something.
And Sadie had grabbed the phone and said, ‘Oh for God’s sake. There is no way my mum would do that to me. She knows the boundaries. That is just so out of order. Do you want me to text her back for you?’
Hannah had shaken her head and grabbed the phone because she had seen some of the text messages Sadie sent.
‘So you going back?’ Sadie had asked, taking a pull on her cigarette and flicking the ash out of the bedroom window.
‘No,’ Hannah had said. ‘No way.’ She pretended to be offended at the very suggestion, all the while wondering if there was any way she could secretly text her mum to let her know she was all right, that she would be back later and to save her some supper.
Suzie had made chilli, which was Hannah’s favourite, and she was cooking it because Hannah had asked her to. They had been talking about it over breakfast, planning to have tortilla chips and salsa, nacho cheese and guacamole and sour cream, the whole works, because Hannah had asked if they could. When she got home Suzie had saved her some of everything and Hannah had felt guilty and sorry, although she hadn’t said so.
Suzie hadn’t told her off for being late, simply saying, ‘Oh hello, honey, glad you’re back. Megan and I made a trifle too if you want some. You know what your dad’s like – I’ve been trying to keep him from eating it all. Have you had a good time?’
And Hannah had just shrugged.
‘Did you go out with Sadie?’ Suzie asked.
What could she say?
As she handed her the chilli, Suzie had said, ‘I don’t like to criticise your friends, Hannah, but be careful, won’t you? We trust you but we don’t want to see you hurt or in trouble, darling.’
Hannah had considered storming out in a huff but decided on balance that she was too hungry and the chilli smelt too delicious to miss. ‘You don’t know anything about Sadie,’ she’d said instead. ‘Not really. Not what she’s really like.’
‘You’re right,’ said Suzie, ‘but I have known people like her. I’m just saying, be careful.’
‘I’m going to eat this upstairs,’ Hannah had said, expecting her mum would protest.
‘Okay,’ said Suzie, putting a bowl of tortilla chips alongside a little bowl of sour cream. ‘Can you just make sure you bring the tray down when you’re done, please?’
Hannah had rolled her eyes and sighed. God, it was just so annoying to have a mum who was so understanding and so nice.
* * *
Today, sitting on the swings, Sadie looked as if she might have slept in her clothes. Her make-up was thick and as subtle as a car crash, and she was dressed in a long white vest top belted at the waist over black leggings and ballet pumps, teamed with a battered and oversized leather biker jacket. Her bleached and blue-streaked hair was bundled up into a messy pile on top of her head, held in place with a scrunchie and wrapped around with a bit of lace.
The thing was, Hannah knew it wasn’t just how Sadie looked or even how she behaved that her mum was concerned about. Suzie had said that there was something cruel, something spiteful about Sadie, you could see it in her eyes – and Hannah had known straightaway that her mum was right, although there was no way she would ever say so.
A lot of the things Sadie thought were funny were actually quite cruel, but Sadie was cool and diamond-hard, really mature and right up there with the best of them when it came to attitude, and that was what something Hannah really wished she had more of. Attitude. Don’t mess with me, take me as I am or leave me the hell alone attitude. If just a little bit of that rubbed off, then it would be worth it.
Ever since Hannah could remember, she had always been the good girl, the nice girl, the one who worked hard and went to after-school clubs and joined the Brownies and the Guides. She had been doing her Duke of Edinburgh’s Award until Sadie had shown up.
Teachers and grown-ups liked Hannah, but it was horrible always being good. The pretty bitchier girls had never wanted anything to with her and although they didn’t exactly bully her, they didn’t want her in their gang either. The girls Hannah used to hang around with were never cool; they were the clever, nerdy, ugly, fat ones – at least, that was what Sadie said.
Sadie had blown in at the start of Year 10 and for some reason, completely lost on Hannah, had decided to buddy up with her. Hannah’s change of fortunes had been instantaneous. Now she didn’t care what the other cliquey girls did or thought or even said, because she and Sadie were in a gang all of their own.
Boys liked Sadie, and she was clever too – clever enough not to get caught doing stuff, and clever enough to ensure she did just enough work to keep out of real trouble. Nonetheless, Hannah sometimes felt that having Sadie for a friend was a bit like sharing your life with a wild animal: she might be exciting to be around but you never quite knew when you were going to get bitten. Sadie could be unpredictable and moody and, although she liked her, Hannah had to admit that she never felt quite at ease with her. It wasn’t a warm, friendly, giggly friendship like she used to have with Lena Hall and Caroline Hunt. They didn’t go round each other’s houses for tea all the time, or camp out in the garden or drink hot chocolate around the kitchen table or laugh with her mum any more; in fact Lena and Caroline hadn’t spoken to her since Sadie had told the boys in their class that they were lesbians.
There was still a part of her that thought that maybe Sadie wanting her as a friend was a big joke and that Sadie would turn on her, or worse. But Hannah wasn’t planning to tell her mum that.
Sitting beside her on the swings, Hanna
h realised that Sadie was staring at her, blowing out a long dragon’s breath of smoke. She looked disappointed.
Seconds later Simon and Tucker arrived running, whooping and laughing like baboons. Tucker leapt up and swung from the bar between the swings where the two girls were sitting.
‘So – what’cha doing, Hannah-the-spanner? Bring me and Sadie any vodka, did you?’
‘No,’ said Hannah, on the defensive, as Tucker hung one-handed and leered close up at her. ‘They hadn’t set up the bar before I left.’
‘There’s going to be a bar? Cool. You didn’t tell me there was going to be a bar at your party. How about we go back to your place and suss it out?’ said Sadie, slyly.
Tucker grinned as he dropped to the ground. ‘Sounds like a blazing idea to me, what do you reckon, Si? Back to Hannah’s place, grab us some booze and then – what? Back to your house, Sadie?’
‘Yeah, all right, if you like. My mum’s going to see her new bloke later on tonight so we should have the place to ourselves.’
Tucker grinned. ‘Sweet. I’m thinking party, party, parteee.’
Simon, who was standing beside the swings, nodded. ‘Yeah, sounds cool. I’ve got twenty quid. We could send out for some pizza and stuff.’
Sadie rolled her eyes heavenwards. ‘Oh right, mister family man – we’ve got to eat, haven’t we? I can think of a lot of other things we could get with twenty quid . . .’
‘Oh yeah,’ Tucker whooped.
Simon looked hurt. Hannah glanced up at him, longing to offer support, but at the same time not really wanting the spotlight to fall on her. Although as it happened it was coming her way, like it or not.
‘So it looks like back to your place first then, Hannah?’ said Sadie, as she hopped off the swing.
Hannah hesitated for a second before nodding.
‘Sure, okay,’ she said, as casually as she could manage, although as they fell into step alongside her, Hannah wondered how she was going to get round this one. Home to her grandparents’ anniversary party really was the last place she wanted to take any of them.