The Girl Across the Street

by Vikki Patis

  ‘Beth? Beth?’ I crouch down beside her, carefully pulling her hands away from her face. ‘Beth, what is it? What’s wrong?’ The hall light is on, casting a glow across where she is slumped against the wall. ‘Beth?’

  ‘Kyle,’ she croaks. I frown, glance back at Jake, who’s standing frozen in the middle of the room. He’s staring at the TV, his eyes glued to the news report. The reporter’s words reach me, and I suddenly realise what’s happened.

  ‘Oh no,’ I whisper, wrapping my arms around her. ‘I’m so sorry, Beth.’ She clings on to me, and I feel the sobs racking her body. ‘Come on,’ I say after a moment. ‘Let’s get you upstairs.’ I pull her to her feet, ignoring the pain in my hand, and together we slowly mount the stairs.

  In Beth’s room, I help her into bed, pulling the duvet over her. Her eyes are now dry, staring sightlessly at the ceiling. I sit on the edge of the bed, a hand resting on top of hers, which are folded across her stomach.

  ‘He apologised,’ she whispers, her voice so quiet I have to lean in to hear her. ‘He wanted to make things right. He got a j-job.’ Her voice breaks on the last word, tears filling her eyes once more.

  ‘I know.’ I don’t know, I don’t know any of this, but I try to keep my tone soft, soothing. Grief has pulled Beth’s face into something I don’t recognise, a mask of pain covering her features. I rub her hand.

  ‘He w-wanted to try again,’ she cries softly. ‘I said n-no. I was so horrible to him!’ She lets out another wail.

  ‘Shush now,’ I say gently, ‘you can’t change any of that.’ I shift closer and wrap an arm around her, cradling her head against my chest. ‘Shush.’ She closes her eyes, and eventually, she sleeps.

  Once Beth has fallen asleep, I tiptoe downstairs and go back into the living room. Jake is sitting on the edge of the sofa now, the TV muted, the remote clutched between his fingers. I frown at him.

  ‘What’s going on?’ I demand. My head is throbbing again, my hand stinging with pain. Jake doesn’t look at me. ‘Jake?’ I bark his name and he seems to jump, as if startled out of a daydream.

  ‘What?’ he says blankly.

  I wave a hand at the TV. ‘When did this happen?’

  ‘Tonight.’ He licks his lips, shifts back on the sofa. I feel a wave of frustration wash over me. Why is he acting so strange? He doesn’t know Kyle – didn’t, I remind myself. And he doesn’t even like Beth.

  The pain in my head and my hand is suddenly too much, and I head into the kitchen for a painkiller. Is it time to take the antibiotics? I glance at my Fitbit – it’s late, almost midnight. How long was I asleep?

  With fumbling fingers, I press two painkillers out of the packet, then reach for the antibiotics. Anger rises up in me and I press a fist to my mouth, holding in the scream. Poor Beth. Kyle hadn’t been the best of boyfriends – she’d done everything for him, and then he’d fled, leaving her in debt – but her shock was palpable. I remember her words upstairs: he apologised. He wanted to make things right. Did she go to see him tonight?

  Washing the pills down with a gulp of water, I close my eyes and lean against the counter, struggling to regulate my breathing. I try to think about the future, the plan Beth and I have made. I still can’t drive with my hand the way it is, but at least it gives us time to gather some money. Jake gets paid tomorrow – I can skim off more than I usually do, and then we can go.

  I wonder at the man in the next room, who hasn’t noticed the hundreds of pounds I’ve stolen from his account over the years. He has no idea how much things cost; he takes my word for how much money it takes to keep him in the lifestyle to which he’s become accustomed. I can thank Judith for that, I suppose.

  I open my eyes, and jump to find Jake in the doorway, watching me. His eyes are dark, his eyebrows knitted together. What is his link to Kyle? Is there one? Or am I reading too much into his reaction to the news report? He can’t be upset for Beth; he’s made his feelings on her very clear. So what is it?

  ‘I’m going to bed,’ he says, and he turns to go upstairs without waiting for a response. I let out a sigh, decide to make myself a cup of tea. I open the fridge to get the milk, and stare longingly at the bottle of wine. Bad idea. I need to be alert. Beth needs me.

  The next morning, I’m woken by voices downstairs. Jake’s side of the bed is empty. Yawning, I pull on my dressing gown and pad downstairs.

  ‘Good afternoon!’ The voice makes me pull up short. Judith is standing in the kitchen, an apron around her waist, a whisk in one hand. She glances pointedly at the clock: it’s 11 a.m.

  ‘Judith,’ I say slowly, blinking. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Don’t you remember? Jakey asked me to come round to help out. What with you being…’ she waves a hand at my bandaged wrist, ‘incapacitated.’

  I give her a tight smile. ‘No, I don’t remember.’

  ‘Think you were already asleep,’ Jake calls from the living room. I blink in surprise. He is sitting on the sofa, laptop on his knees.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I realise it’s the same question I asked Judith a few moments ago. Jake doesn’t look up.

  ‘Working from home. Can’t really leave you alone, can I?’

  ‘I’m not alone.’

  He glances at me then. ‘Hmm,’ he says dismissively. ‘Anyway, Mum will do you some breakfast. Mum!’

  ‘Yes, darling?’

  ‘Can you make Isla something? She needs to eat properly.’

  I shake my head, about to protest that I’m not hungry, but Judith is coming out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a tea towel.

  ‘What would you like, Isla? Toast? Cereal? Scrambled eggs?’ She beams widely. ‘Maybe eggy soldiers? You used to love those, Jakey, when you were a boy.’

  Jake is typing furiously. He grunts in what could be agreement, but I can tell he isn’t listening.

  I let out a sigh. ‘Toast, please,’ I say, sitting down on the sofa. I want to check on Beth, but I know Judith won’t let me escape until I’ve eaten something.

  ‘And tea?’

  I nod, and Jake calls, ‘Yes please.’ Judith smiles indulgently at her son, and I fight the urge to grimace.

  Judith bustles in with my breakfast, placing the plate on my lap and the mugs of tea on the coffee table. I eat quickly, leaving the crusts, then grab my tea and stand up. Jake’s voice stops me in my tracks.

  ‘Where are you going?’ he asks without looking up from his laptop.

  I suppress a sigh. ‘To the toilet.’

  ‘With your tea?’ He raises an eyebrow at me now, fixing me with his gaze. ‘She’s not here.’ I blink at him, trying to understand his meaning. He flicks his gaze back to the screen. ‘Beth. She’s gone.’

  His words hit me like a blow. Gone? Gone where? I want to ask, but the words are stuck in my throat.

  ‘When will she be back?’ I manage after a moment. Jake is frowning at his laptop again. He shrugs, then picks up his phone and starts typing. I realise I’m not going to get anything else out of him. I go upstairs anyway, peek into Beth’s room. The bed is made, the curtains open. I can see her suitcase sticking out from under her bed, and her phone charger is still plugged in next to the bedside table. I let out a whoosh of air. She’ll be back, I tell myself, tiptoeing back out and closing the door behind me.

  I wonder at Jake’s behaviour, why he’s working from home. Why his mother is here. Does he suspect something? Does he know about our plan? I shake my head. He can’t. We don’t even know what we’re doing ourselves yet, not properly. I realise suddenly that I’m desperate for the plan to work. I can’t imagine staying here for another week, let alone the rest of my life. Jake only had one motive in inviting Judith here today: to keep an eye on me.

  I go into my bedroom and root around in the wardrobe, searching for my small suitcase. It should be big enough; I won’t be taking much. I slide it under my side of the bed, then sit down at the dressing table, glancing over the items there. Would Jake notice if I packed a few things no
w?

  I remember what day it is, and pad into the toilet, locking the door behind me. I open the banking app on my phone and inhale sharply. Our account is empty.

  I run a hand through my hair. Where is all the money? What has he done with it? I scroll down through the transactions, but there’s no withdrawal from today. Maybe it hasn’t updated yet.

  Jesus Christ. He must have gone in this morning and taken everything out. But why? Cold dread prickles my skin.

  ‘Isla!’ Judith calls up the stairs, and I jump. She’s not going to give me a minute’s peace. Trying to calm my racing heart, I get up and go back downstairs.

  Forty-One

  Beth

  Beth is waiting anxiously in her dad’s car, which is parked neatly in a space opposite the theatre. She called him this morning, told him in a rush what had happened to Kyle. He listened for a moment, the silence stretching between them, before saying that he was coming over. He arrived thirty minutes later, pulling up outside Isla’s house, where Beth was waiting, dressed in an oversized jumper and leggings, her hair pulled into a messy ponytail, her eyes red from crying.

  She considered telling him everything, about the crash, about Jake, but she couldn’t form the words. How could she confess to what she has done, has been trying to do? No. She simply has to leave, run away and never return. She has to help Isla. And so she turned to her dad.

  ‘Oh, Elizabeth,’ he said when she was finished, and pulled her into his arms. She dissolved into tears, overwhelmed by grief, coupled with the realisation that this was the first time her father had hugged her in over ten years.

  Now she sits picking at the skin around her thumbnail, waiting for her dad to get back. She’s just considering getting out and lighting a cigarette when she sees him round the corner, hands shoved into his pockets. He slides into the car and turns to her.

  ‘Now, Elizabeth,’ he says, his voice stern, ‘this is for you and you alone. Do you understand me? This is for a fresh start.’ He reaches into his pocket and withdraws a large envelope. Beth frowns at it. ‘Take it,’ he says, more gently now. She reaches out and takes the envelope, opening the flap to peer inside.

  ‘Wh-what?’ she stammers, unable to believe her eyes. ‘What is this?’ The envelope is stuffed with fifty- and twenty-pound notes. She’s never seen so much money in her life.

  ‘I started putting a bit aside when you were born,’ her dad says, staring out through the windshield. ‘I wanted – I want – you to have the best future possible, but I had to let you find your own way first. I intended to give you this when you… when you went to university.’ Beth feels a pang of guilt. Another thing she failed at. ‘Then I thought, maybe when you were a bit older, once you’d settled down, got married perhaps, with a couple of kids.’ He sighs, passing a hand over his face, and she realises that she had no idea what her dad expected of her. ‘But I think you need it now more than ever,’ he finishes, nodding at the envelope in her hands.

  Beth realises suddenly that this is her dad’s way of caring for her. Her mother was kind, always there when she could be, holding her hand or wiping her tears or reading to her at night. She didn’t have wealth, wasn’t able to set Beth up in that way, but she did her best. And this, Beth realises, is another of her mum’s legacies. Her dad was always going to be successful. Her mum made sure that he would look after Beth, at least in his own way.

  Tears fill her eyes. ‘I can’t,’ she murmurs, tearing her gaze away from the envelope. ‘I can’t take this. It’s too much.’

  Her dad shakes his head. ‘No, Elizabeth, it’s yours. Your mother…’ He pauses, clears his throat. ‘Your mother always wanted you to have the best in life. She worked so hard, but it was only ever enough to get by on. I tried to help out where I could, honestly I did. But it was difficult once the boys came along.’ Beth says nothing. Her dad catches her eye, holds it. ‘I know I wasn’t always the best father. I let you down in so many ways, Elizabeth. But I can help you now.’ A lump forms in Beth’s throat.

  ‘Thank you,’ she whispers, tucking the envelope between her knees and reaching out to hug her father. Tears rolls down her cheeks as she feels his arms tighten around her.

  She intends to do as her dad says, to use this money for a fresh start. But she won’t be doing it alone.

  When Beth gets home, Isla is waiting for her in the kitchen.

  ‘Beth,’ she begins, her voice a low whisper, ‘thank God. Are you okay?’

  Beth nods. ‘Listen, I—’ She stops abruptly. Judith is standing in the doorway, the laundry basket in her arms. Beth frowns. ‘Um, hi.’

  Judith doesn’t say anything. She drops the washing basket and begins loading the machine. ‘Isla, can you go and tell Jake that lunch will be ready in ten minutes?’ Her voice is brisk. Isla rolls her eyes.

  ‘We’ll talk later,’ she whispers as she brushes past Beth.

  Upstairs, Beth takes out the envelope of cash again. She can’t believe it. All these years she’s struggled, barely scraping together enough for the rent, sometimes going hungry when she didn’t get enough shifts at the restaurant. She thinks of her mother, working her fingers to the bone cleaning other people’s houses, never buying herself anything new, never treating herself. Tears fill her eyes again. She’d want me to have this, she tells herself, shoving the envelope deep into her case and pushing it back under the bed. She’d want us to have this. She’s with us now, cheering us on.

  Forty-Two

  Isla

  I finally manage to usher Judith out after lunch, which wasn’t served until almost three o’clock, due to my late start this morning.

  ‘Beth is back now,’ I say brightly, handing her her handbag. ‘Thank you so much for your help, but we can manage.’

  Jake is still in the living room, completely absorbed in his work. Judith tries to peer past me, but I block her way. I need to talk to Beth, but I can’t do that with Judith around, poking her nose into everything. I reach past her and open the front door, still smiling. ‘See you soon, okay?’ She has no other option than to nod stiffly, call goodbye to Jake and march out into the sunlight.

  I shut the door, leaning heavily against it. Beth appears in the hallway and grins. ‘She gone?’ she whispers, and I nod. ‘Good. Can we talk?’

  I can hear Jake shouting on the phone, something about his “useless” colleagues. I follow Beth upstairs, close her bedroom door quietly behind me.

  ‘So I—’ we both say at once, then break off. Beth laughs softly.

  ‘You first,’ she says, and I take a deep breath.

  ‘It’s Jake. He… he’s cleared our bank account. Everything’s gone.’ Beth’s eyes widen in shock as I speak. ‘I still have my account, but I was hoping to take some more today. I don’t know why he’s done it – he never normally notices.’ I sigh. ‘I think he knows. Or at least he suspects.’

  Beth is frowning. ‘Fuck’s sake,’ she murmurs. Then she shakes herself. ‘Fuck him,’ she declares, the smile creeping back on to her face. ‘We don’t need his money.’ She reaches underneath the bed and pulls out her suitcase. I sit down on the bed next to her as she takes out a large envelope. ‘Open it,’ she says, and I take it from her.

  I gasp as the contents register. ‘Is this…?’ Beth nods vigorously. ‘How much?’

  ‘Twenty thousand.’

  ‘But…’ I trail off, running a finger along the edges of the notes. Twenty thousand. The number seems so huge, so unimaginable, and yet here it is, sitting in my hand. ‘Where did you get this?’

  ‘My dad. I went to see him today. He…’ Beth pauses, takes a deep breath. ‘You know he was never there for me when I was a kid. He just never seemed interested. I always wondered if he regretted having me, if I was a mistake.’ She grimaces, and I frown in sympathy. ‘But I knew he loved my mum. They were always so… respectful of one another, even after he left. She never said a bad word against him. And so I think this is his way of being there for me.’ She shrugs. ‘I guess I’d rather we had a c
lose relationship, especially after Mum died, but this came at exactly the right moment.’ She’s grinning now. ‘It’s as if Mum is looking down on us.’

  I smile back at her. It is fortuitous. I can hardly believe our luck. But I can still feel the pain radiating off her, the years of not having a father to look out for her. Is this a good enough replacement?

  ‘He’s been saving since I was born,’ Beth continues. ‘Maybe Sharon, Dad’s wife, had a thing about him giving anything to my mum, but she couldn’t object to him putting money aside for his own kid, for their future, could she?’ She sighs. ‘I don’t know. I’ve never really understood my dad. I don’t think I ever will. But this,’ she waves a hand at the envelope, ‘this is just what we need right now.’

  ‘I’ve never seen so much money,’ I say, opening the envelope to peer inside again.

  ‘Me neither.’

  Beth begins to giggle, laughter that infects me too. We press our hands against our mouths, eyes wide, staring at one another.

  ‘Do you know what this means?’ Beth whispers after a moment. ‘It means we can go, now. We can leave.’

  My mirth disappears as suddenly as it arrived. I shake my head.

  ‘Isla,’ Beth says hurriedly, before I can speak. ‘Come on. What’s stopping us? It’s the perfect time.’

  I hold up my injured hand. ‘I still can’t drive, Beth,’ I say softly.

  Beth curses. ‘But what if he’s moved the money because he knows? He’ll try to stop us, try to stop you. I don’t want…’ She trails off, but I can hear the unspoken words. I don’t want him to hurt you again.

  I look at my friend, at this whirlwind of a woman who entered my life in such extreme circumstances. I remember the crash, the man we found in the middle of the road. The night that brought us together.

  ‘I know,’ I say, handing her the envelope. She shoves it back into her case, hiding it beneath some clothes. ‘But he doesn’t know. He can’t. There’s no way. He just—’