She resolves to stop thinking like this. She needs to hurry up and check on Jack. Her thoughts have reached fever pitch. Five minutes alone and she’s already lost it. She doesn’t know what’s wrong with her. She peers over. At first she can’t see Jack but then she spots his curly hair, bandy legs wrapped around a wooden post at the back of the playground, next to the sandpit. He’s halfway up, but looks like he’s edging back down to safety.
She softens for a second. He’s so sweet. Gifted the best of Liza’s personality. Always hugging her, telling her he loves her. Then she thinks of Gav. Wonders what characteristics he’s inherited from him. How he’s changed lately from being fun, up for it Gav to someone she wants to shout and tear her hair out over. Of course, Tom hasn’t noticed a thing.
‘He’s one of my best mates, Sarah,’ he’d said when she’d brought it up. ‘Don’t you think I’d notice if he was controlling Liza?’ Part of her had thought this was true. She’d watched carefully, for any signs. But it is difficult when Gav lives in one part of the house and Liza another. How weird, she thinks. Can’t he just move out? Wouldn’t that make things so much easier for them? It’s not like they can’t afford it. Something is keeping him at the house, she just doesn’t know what.
She really should shout over at Jack. Motion for him to get down from the post. But before the thought segues into action, she feels a presence behind her. She turns.
It’s her. She’s standing on the balcony right behind her, like some sort of apparition.
Ella Bradby.
‘Ella, hello.’ She grabs her opportunity whilst she’s alone, without Liza’s sly gaze making her feel self-conscious. ‘It’s Sarah. Biddlecombe. Remember? We were in …’ she trails off, waiting to see if Ella does indeed remember. Silence. ‘We were in NCT class together?’ she prompts. ‘Years ago. You …’ deserted us all, she thinks. ‘I think you must have been busy.’
‘Sarah. Yes.’ Ella smiles, a flat sort of smile, showing a perfect set of bone-white teeth.
‘How are you then? You …’ Sarah is about to ask about Felix. But she shuts her mouth. How on earth would she know about Felix unless she’s been keeping tabs on her? And she can’t very well admit that now, can she?
‘Did everything go well in the end? After your NCT? Boy? Girl?’
‘Boy, Felix. He’s in karate now.’
Sarah waits, ready to fill Ella in on her own news, the information on the tip of her tongue, but before she can drop in that her own little boy is at The West London Primary Academy School (surely she can’t be dismissive of her after that nugget of information?), Ella’s icy-grey gaze is transported downwards.
Sarah follows her eyeline to see a small, cherubic blond figure on the floor beneath them. The little boy (she assumes it’s a boy but she’s made that mistake before) is about six months old. She thinks about her earlier cyber-chondria. Her self-diagnosed perimenopause. This month’s PMT – she had felt the familiar darkness settling on her all of last week, the downward tug of her uterus. She tries to be generous about other people’s good fortune but, alas, the hand of sadness squeezes her tight around the neck.
‘Oh, lovely,’ she says. ‘What’s … the baby’s name?’
‘This one? He’s Wolf.’
‘Wolf?’ Sarah wants to laugh, desperately – she feels it bubbling up in her stomach. Just wait until she gets back to Liza, she thinks – but then she realises, with some frustration, that Ella pulls it off majestically. A snip of delight swiftly follows that Ella has had two boys –instead of the ‘one of each sex’ that she remembers Ella pining for at NCT. She hates herself for thinking it. Really, really hates herself. But she just can’t help it. Not everything is perfect for the enigmatic Ella Bradby.
She watches as Ella bends down and scoops up Wolf, breathing into his soft hair, her phone in her other hand: a rose-gold-encased iPhone, with an image on the back of her and her husband. Sarah remembers Christian well from their NCT days. Who wouldn’t? His beachy-blond hair, and huge, shiny white teeth. And as for his spectacular body – well, she remembers everyone at their NCT class sliding glances towards him, not daring to stare too long. The way he’d rubbed Ella’s back as they’d all acted out different labour positions. She and Liza had been laughing convulsively but, somehow, Ella and Christian hadn’t made it so funny. She had watched them out of the corner of her eye. The way they’d glided around making it all seem so easy and beautiful – Ella’s eyes closed so serenely, as she transported herself to the birth of their baby. Sarah wonders how it would feel if anyone stared at her and Tom like that.
‘We’re just hanging out, Wolf and I.’ Ella interrupts Sarah’s thoughts, her voice low and controlled. ‘Whilst Felix has got karate. Aren’t we, Wolfie-Bear?’
God, thinks Sarah, the poor bugger is going to develop an identity crisis.
‘God, he’s just so … delicious. Aren’t you, Wolfie?’ Ella continues.
‘He’s absolutely divine,’ Sarah says. Divine? What the hell? She’s never used that word before in her life. But she carries on and on, the words spewing out of her mouth. ‘Just look at that beautiful blond hair.’ Just like yours, she nearly adds, but manages to stop herself just in time.
She stands there, rooting around for more things to say but suddenly her workout top feels too tight, squeezing out all her breath. She notices the squidge of flesh spilling out of the top of her leggings, which begin to feel scratchy and hot. She’s also got a nagging feeling – her stomach feels hollowed out. It’s the sense that she’s forgotten to do something. But then she hears Ella clearing her throat and her mind is transported right back to the present moment. She thinks about making a joke about it all. Telling Ella how annoying she finds this whole ‘soft-play’ thing. She lets out a brief laugh and then wonders how she’s managed, in the space of three minutes flat, to come across as a complete twat.
‘So Felix is enjoying karate? I was thinking about putting my son Casper in for a trial.’ If Ella knows that Casper and Felix are in the same year, she’s not letting on. The feeling her son is being dismissed, as well as her, only makes Sarah more determined to get Ella’s attention.
‘Yes. He enjoys it.’ Ella’s still rubbing her thumb on the screen of her phone, glancing down at it as though she’s expecting it to ring at any given moment.
Keep going with this, Sarah thinks. Her heart’s going crazy. Don’t fuck this up. But Ella’s attention is elsewhere. She’s cooing in Wolf’s ear, totally unaware of Sarah and the emotional energy she’s putting into the conversation.
‘We’re inside,’ Sarah carries on. ‘Me and Liza. Do you remember Liza? She was in NCT too. We’re still mates. Really good mates.’ She sees something flicker in Ella’s expression. A vague recognition but it quickly disappears. She feels slightly irritated. Is Liza really more memorable than her? ‘We’re in the soft-play area. If you want to, you know, join us?’ Liza would scold her later on for that, Sarah was sure of it. What do you want to ask her for?
‘Thanks.’ Ella doesn’t say anything else to indicate she’s even acknowledged what Sarah’s said. She feels stung at Ella’s lack of interest in her, a seed of rage pushing its way up from her stomach. Is she not good enough for her? She tells herself just to stop being so bitter. That none of this is to do with her. Ella is the way she is and that’s all there is to it. Maybe something bad had happened to her when she was young. Her mind fills with images of Ella as a child. A sad and lonely orphan. Maybe, Sarah thinks, just maybe, she should try being a little bit kinder in her thoughts. Except she can’t. She’s furious at the distance that Ella has put between them.
Just as she’s thinking all of this, Wolf’s right leg kicks out and something clatters to the ground.
‘Oh,’ Ella gasps, bending down. But before she can get there, with Wolf now wriggling and whining, Sarah reaches it first. The phone. Ella’s hand stretches out at the same time. Sarah watches as their fingers nearly touch.
‘No!’ Ella lets out a protest. But Sar
ah’s already grabbed it.
‘Nice,’ Sarah says, turning the phone around in her hands. She feels a giddy sense of power.
‘Can I have it back now, please?’ Ella says, her vowels stretched high over the piercing sound of Wolf’s cries. It’s the first time Sarah has seen Ella experience something close to discomfort – she watches her bounce Wolf up and down on her hip. She smooths her thumb over the plastic case and, before she returns it, she turns it over, screen-side up. She doesn’t know why she does it. It’s an instinctive action, but she can’t stop herself. She’s almost unaware that she’s doing it. She makes a big show of looking at it, her chin pulling right into her neck. There it is. The green background of a new WhatsApp notification.
‘Look,’ she says. ‘You’ve got a message.’
Ella snatches the phone but it’s too late. Sarah has managed to read and digest the entire contents, well before Ella swiped it back. Her stomach flips over. Oh my God! Her first thought is that she can’t wait to get back to Liza to tell her what she’s just found out. But then she realises that perhaps it’s not such a good idea after all – what with everything going on with her and Gav at the moment. Her second thought is that it actually can’t be true. She wouldn’t. She just wouldn’t. Oooh, but she has.
Ella, with her perfect, handsome husband. Her two blond, angelic children.
‘Oh my God,’ Sarah mutters, a half smile curling up her lips. This is more like it. The earlier power she’d felt over handling Ella’s phone has morphed into something else entirely.
‘Wolf. Shhhh. Shhhh.’ Ella is going red now. Sarah watches as she squeezes her little boy’s arm, leaving small imprints in his pudgy flesh. ‘Sarah, I …’ And then she stops, breathes in deeply and stands up straight. ‘Actually, Sarah, you know what? I have got twenty minutes before I pick up Felix. I will have that coffee with you.’
Bingo! Now, perfect Ella is going to want to be her friend. At this point, Sarah doesn’t give Liza a second thought. She can feel Ella’s fingertips through her grey top. She allows herself to be led back into the soft-play. When they arrive, Liza’s slumped on the chair, gazing into the distance. Sarah knows that she’s too tired to have been thinking of anything much. That the last thing she’ll want to do is socialise.
‘Thea’s asleep,’ Liza mouths, giving a thumbs up. But then she clocks Ella and a slight frown crosses her face.
‘Liza,’ says Ella. ‘Look who I just bumped into.’ Aha, Sarah thinks. So you do remember. ‘How are you?’ Ella sounds almost sympathetic. Now why would that be, Sarah wonders. Ella and Liza were never close, were they?
‘Oh hi, both of you.’ Liza looks at Sarah – something accusatory in her expression and then, the strangest thing, she spills a bit of her coffee, and drops her phone.
‘Oh God, silly me,’ Liza flusters. ‘So cack-handed today.’ Most unlike Liza, Sarah thinks. It’s almost as if she’s been thrown off balance. Usually, in circumstances like these, Sarah would cast Liza a glance. One that says a multitude of things: I know. I’m sorry, but come on, we can get the gossip. We can find out what the hell she’s been doing all these years. I’ll steer the convo so you don’t have to make any effort. I’ll make it up to you.
‘So how are you?’ asks Ella.
‘I’m well. Thank you. Very well. Nice to see you,’ says Liza. ‘And another little … boy?’
‘Wolf,’ Sarah interjects. ‘Isn’t he gorgeous?’ Liza raises her eyebrows but manages to nod.
Sarah inwardly begs for Liza not to be in one of her narky, don’t-carish moods. She doesn’t have the energy to overcompensate when she’s already trying to be as welcoming as she possibly can.
But then Liza jumps. ‘Shit,’ she says. ‘Sarah, did you see Jack by the way? Is he OK?’
Fuck. Jack. Fuck, shit. Shit. Sarah glances outside, but he’s not to be seen. The wooden post he was climbing earlier is set back behind a tree, out of view from here. If she angled herself correctly she might be able to glimpse him, but it’s too late for that.
She absolutely cannot admit to Liza that she had seen him. That he was higher than he should have been on that bloody post, and that she’d been distracted before she could call out to him. Distracted by Ella Bradby, of all people. She can’t admit that in that moment, in that very moment that she’d seen her, both Liza and her beautiful, well-behaved little son had become totally dispensable.
‘Yes.’ Ella sounds almost bored. She sticks a leg out. ‘Yes, she saw him.’ She pulls out a menu from the wooden holder, her grey eyes scanning the protein shakes section. ‘He’s fine, isn’t he?’ she says, without looking up. Liza looks at Sarah, pointedly. Sarah knows that look. Why the fuck are you letting her answer? But before Sarah can say anything else, she finds her head moving up and down, mouth open, like she’s one of those freaky Mama dolls.
She tries to work out why Ella would have said that. But it’s too late now to do anything else and it saves her the bother of having to admit that she had sort of done her job. But not quite.
Sarah looks at Ella and thinks she catches a tiny wink. Almost imperceptible. A warm glow spreads across her chest. Something to tie them together. She forgets about her shitty work. She forgets about the tug of her womb. She forgets about the way she’s been feeling lately. Restless and edgy. Who gives a damn about marketing an old people’s home after all? She sits up straight, buoyed by these thoughts and the connection with the woman sitting next to her. But then she thinks about those moments outside on the balcony.
The moment when she’d seen Ella Bradby. The moment that she forgot about the promise to her best friend.
She looks over to the window again, desperately trying to quash the memories of everything that Liza had done for her last year when Tom had been away on business in Sydney.
She’d been twenty-eight weeks pregnant when she’d rung Liza and told her she had a ‘bad feeling’ and some pains. Tom had scoffed down the phone when she’d insisted on paying for someone to take Casper whilst she went into the hospital.
‘Fine,’ he’d said. ‘But we can’t keep doing this every time you have a “bad feeling”.’ But then, the silence as the ultrasound technician glided the Doppler over and over the same area on her stomach. ‘Just one more second,’ she’d said, pressing harder. Moving it around a bit more. Nothing. Liza had been her go-to then. Liza had been the one who had gripped her hand during the long, drawn-out labour, as she had given birth to the little girl they’d named Rosie. No. She will not think of that now.
She shifts her focus onto the other parents outside watching their kids. She notices a lady craning her neck over the fence at the back of the playground – undoubtedly looking at the new tennis courts. If Jack is in any danger, she thinks, someone will have spotted it. And he’d probably have clambered down from that post now anyway. He would be under the pirate ship and they’d have twenty clear minutes with Ella Bradby. To make up for all that lost time. She clears her throat and turns to Liza.
‘Yes,’ she says. ‘Yes. He was at the back of the sandpit.’ That much is true at least, she thinks. ‘I waved at him. He’s absolutely fine.’
WhatsApp group: Stuff
Members: Sarah, Camilla
Sarah: Guess who I’ve just spotted at The Vale Club?!
Camilla: Holy shit! Don’t tell me the hottie from SCD? I read that he was there in the Mail yesterday! Couldn’t come up today. Taking Elodie to dentist.
Sarah: Ella Bradby!
Camilla: Oh – yes! Gosh. How was she? Never heard from her again, did we? Did we ever find out why?
Sarah: Didn’t speak to her yet. Still looks the same. Just trying to resist cake. Will try and speak to her later and get the goss.
Camilla: You ok? You looked upset this morning at school drop off. Tried to catch you but didn’t want to get stuck talking to Carmen.
Sarah: Yes. 2WW. I think I’m about to get it though. PMT off the charts.
Camilla: You peed on a stick yet?
Sarah:
No. Can’t bring myself to see a neg.
Camilla: Oh I’m sorry, love. I know I’ve offered before but if you want my IVF doc name, just LMK. She’s in Chiswick. Easy.
Sarah: Will you come with me? Just for the registration then I’ll tell Tom. Don’t want to put too much pressure on him just yet. We can go for lunch after? That new restaurant on Turnham Green Terrace?
Camilla: Course. I’ll book the appt. Next Thurs morning ok? When the kids are back at school? I know there won’t be anything wrong by the way but she’ll do all the investigations anyway.
Sarah: Sounds great. Thank you. Thank you so much. X
Camilla: No worries. I’m there for you anytime. X
LIZA
Just as Ella and Sarah start up a new conversation, there’s a piercing scream. It’s not Jack. But somehow, call it maternal instinct, I have a feeling it might be to do with him. I half get up, then sit down. Silly. Don’t pander to anxiety. Of course it’s fine. But by then, people have begun to rush through the café, and my heart is slamming around my chest, the blood rushing to my head. The waiter is coming with our coffee. He’s stopped too and is looking over towards the noise.
Everything has me on edge at the moment. The slightest sound. Someone banging into me. When Cecilia Williams had given me a ‘look’ earlier when I’d bribed Jack to shut up with some crisps, I’d even used the ‘F’ word. I know, I know – I’m not proud of it. It was a shitty thing to do. But not that shitty. And the only reason she doesn’t do such a thing is because she has ten hundred nannies. And, well, Jack just wouldn’t freaking stop. And then I’d given him another whole fistful of crisps in front of her, out of spite.
And anyway, Jack was fine only a few minutes ago. Sarah had said so. And Ella had too.
I start to feel calmer, waiting for things to revert back to normal. But then the entire place goes silent. Sarah keeps flicking her eyes over to the window and Ella – well, Ella keeps clearing her throat and looking down at the menu and I’m thinking, really? What’s the point? You know you aren’t really going to order anything other than that sodding green juice, so why bother? Or is she just calculating how many calories she’s managing to restrain herself from? But then the silence continues and that’s when I can’t hold out any more.
The Fallout Page 3