by Amy Miller
‘He’s stalking me,’ said Scarlet. ‘He emails me, calls me, follows me.’
‘He’s not accepting that your relationship is over, is he?’ asked Heidi, leaning back in her chair, trying to understand. ‘His heart is broken and now, I suppose, he’s trying to get his own back. His pride is dented.’
‘So what if his pride is dented?’ said Scarlet. ‘Christ, who cares?’
‘I doubt he’s thinking clearly,’ continued Heidi. ‘It doesn’t sound like the Charlie you used to describe.’
Scarlet leaped up from her seat.
‘Mum! You can’t just say “his pride is dented” in that forgiving voice of yours,’ she spat. ‘He’s a nightmare. I can look after myself, but he needs warning off. That’s why I told the university about him. It’s like he’s a man possessed! You read it in the news that a jilted lover gets obsessed and ends up murdering someone. Well that might just be me. Chopped into pieces and stuffed in a suitcase and thrown onto a skip for the foxes to sniff out! I knew you’d be all soft-hearted about it. Why are you defending him? If only Dad were still here, he’d offer to punch his lights out or…’
Heidi swallowed. ‘You’re right,’ she said instantly, her voice wavering. ‘Your dad would have done something. Remember the time he went to that customer’s house who had been rude to me and threatened him? I’m sorry, Scarlet. Don’t take what I said the wrong way. Please, I didn’t mean anything other than working out what was going on in his head.’
Scarlet broke down into sudden tears and Heidi gulped down the ache in her throat. Scarlet’s cry had always torn through Heidi’s skin and squeezed her heart – probably because she didn’t cry much at all. She tried to take hold of Scarlet’s hand, but she drew it away, out of reach, and folded her arms across her chest.
‘But why are you defending Charlie?’ she said.
‘Scarlet, I’m seriously not defending him,’ Heidi started, glancing at Frankie, whose cheeks were burning a brighter shade of pink. ‘I was only trying to understand the situation better—’
But before she could say any more, Scarlet tutted and moved to leave the kitchen. Both Frankie and Heidi got up from their seats to follow her, and Heidi stopped.
‘Sorry,’ said Heidi. ‘You go. She’ll want you. I’ll talk to her when she’s calmed down a bit.’
As she spoke, she realised she knew virtually nothing about Frankie, yet she had deferred to her to comfort her daughter. Did that make her a bad mother? It struck her suddenly that when her girls had been younger, she’d thoroughly vetted their friends, as much as was possible, but as they became young adults, she knew less and less about who they spent their time with. Perhaps Charlie was a danger to Scarlet. Perhaps he was some kind of stalker. She would have to do something about this herself. Drive to the university and tell him to back off.
‘Heidi – I mean, Mrs Eagle,’ said Frankie, reappearing at the kitchen door, her phone swinging around her neck like a clock pendulum.
‘Heidi’s fine,’ said Heidi with a smile.
‘I just want to say sorry about your husband, about Scarlet’s dad. Scarlet’s told me all about him and how he… he was a lot of fun. It must be so difficult for you all, with it being so sudden. Sounds like he was a lovely man.’
When she finished speaking, she exhaled as if it had been an effort to get the words out. Heidi managed a small nod.
‘Thank you,’ she said to Frankie, feeling her lips contort as she fought the urge to cry. ‘Thank you for saying that. He was a lovely man.’
Frankie smiled, and then she asked a question which showed her kindness. ‘What was he like?’
Heidi gulped. Most people avoided this topic of conversation like the plague, yet Frankie had dived into the heart of it. She’d asked a question about Johnny. She picked up a photograph of him grinning as he held up a stained-glass window he’d found in a skip.
‘Oh God, it’s hard to know where to start,’ said Heidi. ‘He was kind and thoughtful. The sort of person who would offer to help with anything. Silly things, like if we were stuck trying to get something down from a shelf or couldn’t get the computer to work, he’d be there, by your side to help. He’d give my feet a rub after a hard day. Make me a drink and ask me how I felt. He rang the girls most days, just to check in. He knew Scarlet so well. She’s got a tendency to explode, but he could make her laugh again in the snap of a finger. He’d pull silly faces, pretend to hide his head under a pillow when she shouted, that kind of thing. Sounds daft, but we needed him to even us out. I know Scarlet really misses him. I’m not doing very well, really. I’ve always needed Johnny to make me a better mum. He made me more patient, kinder, calmer. Oh dear, sorry, Frankie.’
Heidi wiped her eyes and sank down on a chair, utterly deflated. Suddenly the kitchen door swung open again and Scarlet burst into the room. She threw her arms around Heidi.
‘You are doing well,’ she said, through tears. ‘You’re doing a brilliant job. I’m sorry to have shouted at you. I’m sorry; I’m all over the place.’
They embraced and hung on to each other for a few long moments before parting.
‘Welcome to our house, Frankie,’ said Heidi, rolling her eyes. ‘Why don’t you both stay for a few days? Perhaps Charlie will back off a bit if you’re not around. Out of sight, out of mind. And if he doesn’t, I’ll break his fingers or chop off his testicles with a blunt knife. Seriously though, we can report him to the police if it gets worse.’
Frankie laughed. Scarlet rolled her eyes.
‘It’s not like we can’t look after ourselves, Mum,’ said Scarlet, on the defensive. ‘I just panicked today.’
‘I know,’ said Heidi, ‘but it would be nice, for me and for your sister, to get to know Frankie.’
Frankie grinned. ‘Thanks. My parents aren’t quite as understanding as you about me having a girlfriend. They wanted to marry me off to a rich boy. When I told them I was gay, they told me I wasn’t welcome in their home. Bit draconian, isn’t it? They’ve allowed me back since, but we have to be in each other’s company in short bursts. We’re polar opposites, despite being blood relations.’
Heidi’s thoughts returned to William.
‘They’re probably just products of their own upbringing or experience,’ Heidi said. ‘Perhaps they’ll come around in time. In my experience, people make mistakes, say the wrong thing and then find it hard to admit they’re wrong.’
Scarlet rolled her eyes. ‘Here we go again!’ she said. ‘Forgive and forget. Actually, I think you’re wrong. I think we should be accountable for our actions and, if we make a mistake, take the rap.’
Heidi knew she should stay quiet, but she was thinking about the fact that possibly one day soon, she would need Scarlet’s understanding – and forgiveness.
‘But what if you need someone’s forgiveness at some point?’ Heidi asked. ‘Life doesn’t always turn out the way you want it to.’
‘I won’t,’ insisted Scarlet. ‘I’m never going to do anything I regret, because I’ll always think about what I’m going to do before I do it. It’s simple really.’
Heidi turned away from Scarlet and Frankie and put her teacup in the sink. She turned on the tap and closed her eyes for a moment as an image from the café flashed into her head. Nothing’s ever simple, she thought but didn’t say.
Seventeen
Heidi pulled out a pearl drop earring that was trapped in the back of the cocktail chair she was stripping down. Holding the earring by the hook, she turned it over in her hand and wondered if it belonged to Annie. Perhaps it was a recent misplacement, or perhaps it had been there for decades. Imagining Annie, or someone else, searching everywhere for it made her heart contract a little. Each piece of furniture she worked on held so many stories. If only furniture could talk!
Absorbed by her work, she jumped when Max rapped on the workshop door and let himself in. From the expression on his face, something was wrong.
‘Max?’ she said. ‘Everything okay?’
&nb
sp; ‘You’re going to need to sit down,’ he said. ‘Are you alone?’
She sat down.
‘Scarlet and Frankie are inside,’ she said. ‘My heart’s hammering here. What’s going on?’
Max’s cheeks were flushed, as if he’d been running. Under his arm he carried a laptop. He placed it down on the worktable, where the cocktail chair was balanced upside down, and pulled up another chair, throwing his jacket over the back of it, before quickly sitting down. Remembering their conversation on the beach, Heidi’s stomach flipped. Was this about Tuesday?
‘I have something to show you,’ he said, the screen in front of him lighting up.
Heidi pulled her chair closer to Max and, with a pounding heart, watched as he tapped.
‘Are you ready for this?’ he said. ‘I can’t believe how easy this was.’
‘Is this—?’ Heidi began.
‘Yes, it’s about Tuesday,’ he said. ‘I went home after our swim and just typed her name into Facebook. Only a few people popped up. This Tuesday is sixty-three, lives in Brighton and runs a catering business from a vintage, converted horsebox. She looks quite like your mother, but it’s difficult for me to know for sure. Do you want me to show you? You’ve seen her photograph, so you’ll know straight away if it’s her.’
Heidi blinked and nodded.
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘So, I just type it in and… here she is, or at least, I think this is her?’
A circle popped up on the left side of the screen, the lens of a camera, and inside the circle was a photograph of a woman, dressed in a striped apron over a bright dress and sandals. She stood smiling, with her head to one side, in front of a pale-blue vintage horsebox. She had curly pink hair, pinned up, and piercing blue eyes. Her nose was narrow and straight, her lips full and red. She looked younger than sixty-three. The way she stood, with one shoulder slightly lower than the other, as if about to turn away, was familiar. There was no doubt about it – she was the woman in the photograph in Rosalind’s glasses case.
Heidi leaned back in her chair and rocked her head backwards, before returning her gaze to the screen.
‘Oh my God, yes, it’s her,’ she said, exhaling heavily.
She stared at the screen for longer, until her eyes watered. A few months ago, her life was straightforward. Now, it felt almost unrecognisable. As if she’d gone to sleep in a life she knew and woken up in someone else’s, like falling asleep on a long-haul flight and waking up in a dramatically different landscape.
Max rested his warm hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently.
‘What do you think?’ said Max. ‘I think she looks great!’
Heidi couldn’t find any words, so she simply nodded, trying to stop the tears leaking from her eyes.
‘Damn, this is too much, isn’t it?’ said Max. ‘After William, it’s too much. Do you know what? You don’t need to do anything just because I’ve found this Facebook page. The fact is that you know now that she’s out there and maybe that’s enough?’
‘I don’t know,’ she started. ‘I don’t know how I feel.’ Heidi managed a smile. ‘I always wanted a sibling,’ she said quietly. ‘I hated being an only child. But her nose is just like mine. It’s weird. What should I do? Should I send her a message?’
‘Don’t do anything yet,’ said Max. ‘You’ve enough on your plate.’
‘But what if my mother dies,’ said Heidi, ‘without ever having met her?’
‘Your mother doesn’t look like she’s about to die, Heidi,’ said Max. ‘She’s only hurt her knee.’
‘She’s an expert in hiding how she really feels,’ Heidi said, thinking back to the fainting spells Rosalind had mentioned, then looking again at Tuesday and trying to ascertain what sort of person she was. She decided she looked lovely. Warm. Kind. Fun. ‘Thanks for helping me, Max.’
He put his arms around Heidi and pulled her towards him for a big friendly hug.
‘I just need to handle this all so carefully,’ said Heidi. ‘I’ve got William there on the one hand, and now Tuesday. The girls know nothing at all and they have their own problems to deal with. It could get messy. It’s already messy. Without Johnny… it’s all too messy.’
‘Life’s messy,’ said Max. ‘People are messy, this workshop is messy, your hair is—’
Heidi gave him a mock punch.
‘I don’t even have a Facebook account,’ she said. ‘If I wanted to send her a message, I couldn’t. Oh, actually I have the workshop account. I could use that, couldn’t I?’
‘It’s so simple,’ Max said. ‘You could easily message her. You don’t even need to send her a request because she has a business account. You simply need to type in a message and send. It’s almost too simple.’
Simple. Scarlet had used the same word. Heidi almost laughed out loud at the idea that anything in her life was remotely simple.
Jerking forward suddenly to avoid a fat black fly that had come from nowhere and was buzzing in her face, she tried to bat it away and accidentally knocked the laptop, which toppled off the worktable and fell. Lightning fast, Max moved and caught it but had stretched across Heidi and, as she also tried to catch the laptop, she fell into him and they lay in a twisted embrace.
‘My God, Max, I’m so sorry,’ she said, blushing a shade of boiling red as she tried to sit back upright. ‘That fly! It was like a bomber jet.’
They laughed as they unwound themselves from one another and rescued the laptop. At that moment Heidi noticed two figures in the doorway. Scarlet and Frankie.
‘Mum,’ Scarlet said, her voice deadly serious. ‘I cannot believe that you would do this. Dad has only just died and you’re snuggling up with Max! Have you been waiting for this moment?’
While Scarlet ranted, Frankie was moving nervously from foot to foot, pulling the cuffs of her sweatshirt over her hands. Max cleared his throat.
‘Scarlet!’ said Heidi, fuming. ‘Will you just stop this? I knocked the laptop off the table; we both moved to catch it at the same time and got rather twisted up. It’s absolutely nothing more than that. How can you even think that? Your dad was my world! For goodness’ sake.’
Max stood, pulled his jacket from the back of the chair and put it on.
‘It really was just as your mum says,’ Max said. ‘There’s nothing untoward going on, Scarlet, I assure you.’
Scarlet’s face was ashen with fury.
‘I promise you, Scarlet,’ said Heidi. ‘You mustn’t jump to conclusions. Max is your dad’s friend and my friend, and absolutely nothing more.’
She glanced at Max, who looked momentarily glum. Scarlet sighed. Frankie took hold of her hand.
‘I just popped in to say we’re going out for a pint,’ she said moodily. ‘I don’t know how long we’ll be.’
Her gaze rested on the screen of the laptop, before she frowned and moved slightly closer.
‘Who’s Tuesday?’ said Scarlet. ‘She looks just like Grandma!’
‘Nobody,’ said Heidi firmly, before snapping shut the laptop. ‘Now go for a pint and I’ll see you later for dinner.’
With the girls gone, Heidi felt utterly flustered. The atmosphere between herself and Max had fallen flat.
‘Sorry about that,’ she said. ‘Scarlet’s nerves are quite frayed at the moment. Her ex-boyfriend is being a pain.’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Max said, followed by what sounded like forced laughter. ‘Maybe now I’m here I’d better get on with something useful? I’ll put the radio on to distract us from the bombshell I’ve just dropped.’
They worked quietly alongside one another, occasionally asking the other a question but mostly listening to the radio.
When Max eventually left at just before 7 p.m., there were no lights on in the house; the girls were still out. Loneliness put its hands around Heidi’s throat and squeezed.
Hands trembling, she opened up her own laptop and brought up the Eagles Facebook account. Pausing for a breath, she ignored the fear in her heart and typed out a mes
sage to Tuesday, explaining who she was and how she’d discovered her, telling her she’d love to hear from her. Pressed send. Closed down the computer. Amazing, she thought, how just a few words typed in a few seconds had the potential to change lives. She could easily have not typed that message. She could easily have not written to William. Yet she’d done both. Had loneliness motivated her to reach out? Curiosity? Or something else, deeper. Love?
‘Mum?’ said Scarlet from the door. ‘Why are you still working? Are you coming inside? We’re really hungry. Shall we cook dinner? Sorry about earlier. Frankie said I was unfair. I miss Dad, that’s all. I know you do too. I love you.’
Heidi felt choked with tears and gratitude. She was wanted. Needed. Required to help with dinner. Loved.
Turning away from her daughter to switch off the lights, she cleared her throat. ‘Yes, love, I’m coming now,’ she said. ‘I love you too.’
Eighteen
After their disastrous meeting, Heidi sent William an apologetic email, asking for his bank details so she could transfer money, but hadn’t received a reply. One morning, unable to bear it any longer, Heidi returned to the Blackbird Café. She sat at the same table as before and scanned every inch of the café, stealing glimpses of the entrance to the kitchen whenever she could. There was no sign of William, but perhaps this wasn’t his shift. When a waitress came to the table, she ordered a coffee and asked after him.
‘I’m sorry, William doesn’t work here anymore,’ she said.
‘He doesn’t work here anymore?’ Heidi asked, feeling desolate. Had he left in order to escape any contact with her? How would she ever contact him again?
‘No,’ the waitress confirmed. ‘Not since last Monday.’
‘Why did he leave?’ Heidi said, trying not to show how desperately unhappy she felt. ‘Did he get a new job?’
The girl’s eyes fell to the floor and she repositioned herself so that the boss couldn’t see her. Her cheeks flamed.
‘No,’ she whispered. ‘He got… you know… there was an argument and he was asked to leave.’