The Perfect House

by R. P. Bolton

  ‘But that’s by the by, what I’m interested in happened way back when Mary was a teenager. Has Diane ever mentioned the adoption to you?’

  Why did some people get off on delivering bad news? Her expression echoed that of Joan the Moan announcing redundancies. Sympathetic head tilt. Hushed compassionate tone. Oscar-winning fakery.

  Ellie’s smile was equally fake. ‘Sorry, what is it you’re asking?’

  ‘Well, I think Mary’s story has got legs for a wider audience, a national or a magazine. Human interest. Scandal in suburbia. The Stockfield Council inquiry connection. Schoolgirl mum has her baby removed. And of course, the tragedy of her death.

  ‘I’ve been doing a lot of research. Archives, council minutes, that kind of thing. And according to the Land Registry, when Diane moved to Moss Lane, Mary was seventeen years old. That’s also the year she left school, not to be seen again until her dad’s death. How can a teenager drop off the radar? A pregnant one at that.’ She held her hands up, palms out. ‘I’m not implying any involvement, of course not. But Diane was a nurse. Who better to arrange a secret birth and adoption for a powerful neighbour?’

  Norah sat upright. ‘Oh hi. How are you?’

  Ellie looked up. Asha stood directly in front of them.

  Awkward.

  Norah unhooked her coat from the back of the chair. ‘You know, I promised I’d speak to Emily and I’ve just spotted her over there.’ She took out her phone. ‘Actually, Ellie, I don’t think I’ve got your number.’ She flashed an expectant smile.

  ‘Oh sure,’ Ellie said, and reeled it off before she could stop herself.

  Norah typed the digits. ‘Got it. That’s great. Speak soon, yeah?’

  Ellie nodded mutely, inwardly cursing herself for meekly handing her number over.

  If looks actually could kill, Asha’s would have felled Norah on the spot.

  ‘I didn’t say anything about Diane,’ Ellie said quickly. ‘She said she’s writing another article about Mary Brennan, looking into the baby she gave up for adoption and her dad.’

  ‘Norah digging the dirt? Well, that’s on brand,’ Asha replied. ‘Obviously, it’s your call, but I’d be careful what you say. She has a way of twisting things.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ve got no intention of contacting her. But it’s starting to freak me out, you know, this history with Mary and the house. Just when I think I know all there is to know, another thing comes up.’

  Freddie, his skeleton mask slipping over his eyes, hurled himself at his mother’s legs, howling.

  The jet lag feeling washed over Ellie again.

  ‘It feels like everyone else is in on a big secret,’ she said, half to herself. ‘And I’m the only one being kept in the dark.’

  48. Then

  Although the atmosphere in the flat had changed, Friday night at the Union was reassuringly the same. They pushed their way through the crowd of Freshers to where Tom and Danny sat at their usual table which was, as usual, covered with empty pint glasses.

  ‘Well, hello, girls.’ Danny spoke sloppily, like he had a mouthful of food.

  ‘How much have you had?’ Mia said, squeezing in next to him.

  When he rolled his eyes, Ellie noticed the whites were tinged with pink. ‘A few. Do you fancy another, mate?’ he gestured at Tom’s almost-full glass.

  ‘Nah, I’m good, thanks,’ Tom said, shuffling up the upholstered bench to let Ellie in. He put his arm around her and she leaned gratefully into him.

  The music thudded in her temples. Everyone shouted to be heard. Danny in particular talked at full volume in the fake-jolly drunk way he did sometimes. Ellie hadn’t seen him since before the summer and she’d been looking forward to catching up, the four of them together like always. But there was an edge to him tonight and the louder he grew, the quieter Mia became, retreating into the jacket she hadn’t taken off and picking at the skin around her nails.

  Vodka and lager mixed uneasily in Ellie’s guts and damp patches spread under her arms.

  ‘Can we go?’ she said quietly to Tom.

  But Danny interrupted. Loudly. ‘You can’t go yet, Ellie. We’ve got loads to catch up on, haven’t we?’

  Ellie saw Mia and Tom exchange an uneasy glance and her stomach spasmed. Danny’s lips curled in a half-grin, half-sneer. The expression in his glittering eyes was unreadable.

  ‘Did you have a good summer?’ he asked.

  Ellie put on her default smile and snuggled in closer to Tom. ‘I worked in Debenhams for most of it, but yeah, it was good to spend time with my mum.’

  ‘I went home and sweated my bollocks off in a margarine factory for very little money.’ Danny sighed. He waved his pint glass in a vague semicircle. ‘How about you, Mia and Tom?’

  Both of them stared down at the table.

  ‘Don’t be shy,’ Danny said, cheerfully. ‘Tell us what you two got up to.’

  ‘Don’t be like that,’ Mia said, quietly. ‘Please.’

  Tom tapped Ellie on the knee. ‘Let’s go.’

  ‘Aw, don’t go. You haven’t told us what you got up to this summer.’ Danny swilled lager round his glass. ‘Mate.’

  ‘Danny,’ Mia said as a warning.

  Tom glanced at Mia and her shoulders gave a tiny what shall we do? twitch. A gesture of collusion that trickled fear down Ellie’s spine. She flashbacked to walking into the kitchen after school to find Mum and Dad with their bad news faces on. Loss already hovering above them. Those quick, little glances. Dad got his test results back today …

  Turning in a slow arc to look at each of them, she said, ‘What’s going on?’

  Mia chewed her black-painted nails and refused to meet Ellie’s gaze.

  ‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘Danny’s drunk, that’s all.’

  Danny slapped his hands on the table. ‘Yes! Let’s talk about getting drunk, shall we?’

  Steel bands squeezed Ellie’s chest, trapping her breath in her throat. She shook off Tom’s arm.

  ‘What are you on about, Danny?’

  The bluster bled from him like he’d been punctured. ‘I think you should ask Tom and Mia that question.’

  ‘Tom?’

  Tension hummed like electricity.

  Tom hung his head. He didn’t answer.

  49. Now

  ‘Wallpaper for the lounge,’ Tom said, reversing into an empty space. ‘Or paint?’

  Within ten minutes of getting home from playgroup, they were in the car and heading for the retail park.

  ‘Paint,’ she replied. ‘White with a hint of something.’

  ‘What else?’ he said.

  ‘Shower curtain,’ she said, manoeuvring the buggy up a kerb. ‘Rug for the lounge. Light fittings. Bed for the spare room when Mum comes. Highchair and potty, thinking ahead. But I need to pop into Boots first.’

  Tom stopped on the pavement as the automatic doors slid open.

  ‘Listen, I need to get some screws and stuff for Dad. Why don’t you give me the baby, I’ll nip over to B&Q and we can meet back here? You’ve got your phone, right? You can ring me if you need me.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ she said, jerking the pram out of his reach. ‘I’ll take Trinity.’

  He threw her a puzzled look. ‘OK, see you in ten minutes or so.’

  Christmas had arrived early in Boots. She wove the buggy through the crowded aisles, stepping aside to let an elderly lady pass by the perfume and aftershave stands.

  ‘Lovely wee thing,’ the lady said, peering into the pram with a fond smile. ‘Enjoy it while you can. One blink and they’re away.’

  ‘I will,’ Ellie said, patting Trinity’s leg. Soon she’d be toddling about on these tiny feet. One day she’d be a stroppy teen and then all too quickly, ready to forge her own path through the world wherever and however she wanted.

  ‘Not too soon, eh?’ Ellie whispered, tucking Mr Giraffe under the blanket.

  She made her way to the baby aisle for pads and sterilising tablets. Picked up toothpaste en route
to the checkout where several people already lined up at the counter. Ellie calmly checked her phone while in front, a tall man in a tweed cap expressed his irritation by staring pointedly at his watch and tutting loudly. A baby cried and the mum crouched down to pick up a dropped teddy. Rhythmic beeps sounded as the assistant scanned through nappies, baby wipes, sterilising tablets, Sudocrem.

  Sudocrem!

  The queue behind her snaked back to the sunglasses. If she went now, she’d lose her place. But if she left the pram for ten seconds … She could actually see the shelves of disposable nappies from here. The Sudocrem had to be just out of sight. Ten seconds. Twenty tops.

  ‘Won’t be a minute,’ she murmured to no one and hurried towards the baby goods section, turning her head every other step to check on Trinity. Fine, no one had noticed she’d—

  ‘Oh,’ she said, halting abruptly. ‘Sorry.’

  She had almost walked straight into another shopper.

  Old-fashioned updo. Same black dress. Same miserable expression. It was the woman from Moss Lane.

  Ellie snatched a tub of cream and held it to her chest as she let out an uneasy laugh.

  ‘We do keep bumping into each other, don’t we?’

  The woman’s lips remained in a silent grim line.

  ‘I think we may be neighbours. I live on Moss Lane?’

  Without acknowledging she had heard, the woman continued up the aisle. Ellie shivered and her unease went up a gear. Several gears.

  ‘Excuse me?’ A haughty voice shouted across the shop. Heads turned, including Ellie’s. The tall man in the tweed cap stood at the checkout and pointed at the pram. ‘Is this your child?’

  ‘Oh God, yes.’ Ellie scurried back and nudged the buggy up to the adjacent till, flustered by the weight of judgemental stares. ‘Forgot this. Had to go and get it from, er …’

  A man in a white tunic scanned her items. Above him, the round security mirror reflected the tops of heads. God, her roots needed doing. Tweed cap man blew his nose next to her.

  And there, reflected in the rounded curve of the mirror, the woman in black stood next to the sunglasses. Ellie instantly dropped her gaze, catching eyes with the shouty man on the way. He narrowed his to literally look down his red-veined nose at her.

  ‘Do you want a bag?’ the assistant said.

  She shook her head, taking out a crumpled bag for life.

  ‘That’ll be £19 exactly, please.’

  On autopilot, she swiped her card. Sensing the woman’s stare, she cast a furtive glance at the mirror. Yes, still there. Watching. Well, this time, she’d had enough. She’d find out who she was and what she wanted and how on earth she always seemed to know where Ellie was going to be. Self-consciously rubbing her neck, she turned.

  No one stood by the sunglasses. The woman had disappeared.

  She glanced at the mirror. The woman was still there.

  How—?

  Ellie grabbed the pram and ran.

  She swerved the buggy around a stand of painkillers. Someone shouted behind her. The automatic doors slid open and she ran through.

  Outside, the wind whirled scraps of paper and dry leaves around the car park. A plastic bag floated high above like a white cloud against the grey sky. She leaned against the pram handle as her legs suddenly refused to bear her weight.

  Breathe. A few seconds, then she’d go to B&Q to wait for Tom.

  This was getting out of hand. First at Nexus and now here. How did the woman from Moss Lane keep finding her? It had to be different women conflated by Ellie’s sleep-ravaged brain. After all, plenty of people wore glasses and black dresses. That made more sense. And those convex mirrors often created optical illusions, catching reflections at odd angles. Maybe—

  A bony finger prodded her shoulder.

  Terror rooted her to the spot. She didn’t turn. Couldn’t. Her chest was about to explode. Please don’t be her. Please don’t be her. Please don’t.

  ‘Excuse me,’ the posh man in the tweed cap said impatiently, holding her bag for life at arm’s length. ‘You forgot your shopping.’

  She snatched the bag with a muttered thank you and shoved the buggy towards B&Q.

  ‘You’re very welcome,’ he called sarcastically behind her.

  Drivers pulled in and out of spaces. A kid ran past with a balloon. People talked and laughed. Loud beats reverberated from a car stereo. Too many people. Too much noise.

  Thank God. There was Tom striding out of B&Q. She didn’t care that he had his mobile clamped to his ear and concern on his face. She didn’t care when he frowned, flicking his gaze from Trinity to Ellie and back. She didn’t even care when she heard him say quietly, ‘Sorry Tanya, I’m going to have to call you later.’

  All she cared about were the car keys in his hand.

  ‘I need to go home,’ she said, breathlessly. ‘Now.’

  50. Then

  The Union’s mix of music and loud conversation jangled in a discordant soundtrack.

  Tom wouldn’t meet her gaze. Danny, wet-lipped and red-eyed, scratched the back of his neck. And it was left to Mia to bite her lip and look down at the table.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said simply.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Ellie said.

  Mia’s ragged black fingernails tore strips of printed paper from a beer mat.

  ‘Why are you doing this?’ Tom said suddenly to Danny. ‘None of this has got anything to do with her.’

  The expression of guilt that flickered across Danny’s face quickly turned into a sneer.

  ‘Well, mate, it’s not fair to keep her in the dark. I mean, this affects her as much as anyone else. So go on, one of you tell her.’

  No one spoke. Silence, weighted and awful, hung over their table while the rest of the bar buzzed with talk and laughter and happiness.

  ‘Tell me,’ Ellie said. ‘Mia? Tom?’

  ‘OK, first, it was my fault so don’t blame Tom,’ Mia said, her eyes finally meeting Ellie’s. She laid her hands flat on the table. ‘I had another row with Danny about seeing Josie while he was at home. You know, his ex. I got drunk and I was upset and … I kissed Tom. He stopped me. Then, as you can see’ – she flapped her hands around Danny in a look-at-this-mess gesture – ‘I made the mistake of believing I should confess and that’s it. I swear it was my fault.’

  She turned to Danny who had put his pint glass to his lips. ‘Happy now?’

  He shrugged and took a noisy swallow.

  ‘Tom?’ Ellie said quietly. ‘Is it true?’

  ‘Let’s go,’ he said, already pulling his coat on.

  ‘For the record, nothing happened with Josie,’ Danny said.

  Tom didn’t reply.

  Outside, the cool air fanned Ellie’s burning cheeks. A bus trundled past and Tom grabbed her as though to run for it, but she pulled back.

  ‘I want to walk,’ she said, stepping out of the way of a bike.

  Her brain couldn’t take it in. Even though she had been dreading this, had imagined it, had almost willed it to existence, she just couldn’t believe what Danny had said.

  Tom and Mia?

  Student life dominated the takeaway-lined streets around the Union. Groups walked or sat at bus shelters, smoking and singing and eating chips from polystyrene boxes. Cars beeped at drunks dawdling across the road.

  But once they left the main drag, the night grew quieter. Only the occasional dog walker or late jogger crossed their path.

  Tom was the first to break the silence.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘We were going to tell you.’

  We.

  Tom and Mia. Mia and Tom. Talking. Conspiring.

  She wrapped her arms around her chest to hold in the shudder building in her diaphragm. He stopped in front of her.

  ‘Whatever you’re picturing, I swear it wasn’t as bad. Honestly. It was nothing.’

  ‘Nothing to you, maybe,’ she said tightly.

  The glow of the streetlight caught the angles of Tom’s face, twist
ing the features into something unfamiliar.

  ‘I know it’s no excuse, but we were both drunk and we were talking and Mia was really, really upset about Danny going for a drink with Josie so I gave her a hug and she just … it just happened. But I promise as soon as I realised what was going on, I stopped it.’

  ‘How long?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘How long before you realised what was going on? Ten seconds? Twenty? Thirty?’

  ‘I didn’t exactly set a timer,’ he said. ‘And I was drunk.’

  ‘Ballpark figure.’

  A gust of wind whispered through the trees. Tom shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

  ‘A few minutes,’ he admitted. ‘But I swear, I never meant it to happen.’

  Even though she’d played the Tom cheats on me scenario in her head hundreds of times, shock punched the breath from her lungs.

  A few minutes?

  ‘Tell me,’ she said slowly. ‘Exactly. Was it at Mia’s house? In her bedroom?’

  ‘No, nothing like that. Walking home from the pub, both hammered and she was upset. It’s not like we’re having an affair. It was nothing. One kiss.’

  ‘She’s my best friend and you’re my boyfriend. Trust me, you can’t call one kiss “nothing”.’

  A look of despair crossed Tom’s face and his eyes shone in the streetlight. For a moment, he looked as though he might burst into tears.

  Instead he raked his fingers through his too-long fringe.

  ‘It just happened. What else can I say? I love you, Ellie.’

  51. Now

  Tom’s electric toothbrush whirred distantly while the radiators groaned. Just the mundane sounds of a house and its occupants settling down for the night.

  Not this occupant, though. Theories and speculation played like a compilation album of her greatest fears. No sooner had she grasped one unpalatable thought, than it morphed into a new terror.

  He’s set me up.

  He’s made me think I’m losing it.

  He’s going to have me sectioned again.

  They’re going to take the baby off me.

  When you thought about it, it was the only explanation that made any sense. And she had to hand it to them, it was clever. Really clever.