Pretty Little Things

by T. M. E. Walsh

  ‘Cool T-shirt,’ he says, nodding at Elle’s top. ‘Do you have In Utero? That album is amazing.’

  Elle pulls at her Nirvana top and looks sheepish. ‘Yeah,’ she says and looks at Kenzie, who is smirking at her. ‘I have the songs on my laptop, but I’ve not listened to them for, like, ages.’

  She glances at me, not wanting it to become obvious that she has no idea what he’s talking about.

  ‘I have the CD,’ Dale says. ‘I can bring it over if you want? You can’t beat seeing the actual artwork.’

  Elle looks flustered.

  ‘You here on your own?’ I say, coming to her rescue. I see from the corner of my eye that she’s looking at me with some relief.

  ‘Yeah,’ Dale says, thrusting his hands inside his pockets. ‘Thought I’d go for a drive. Dad let me borrow the van.’ He watches Elle, hoping that’s impressed her.

  ‘Shall we get some pizza?’ Kenzie says and, for once, I silently thank her.

  ‘Oh,’ Dale says, flustered. ‘I should get going.’

  I feel a little bad for him. ‘You’re welcome to join us.’

  I feel Elle’s icy stare.

  Dale looks hopeful but then seems to have a quick change of heart. ‘Nah, you’re all right. Thanks, though.’

  We watch him walk away and then, just when I think I can persuade Kenzie that Greggs bakery might be better than getting pizza, I see another familiar face on a bench not far from us.

  ‘Jason!’ Elle squeals.

  He’s with his girlfriend, and he just raises his hand and smiles in acknowledgement, but I can tell he has no intention of stopping to chat, because in an instant he and his girlfriend have moved from the bench and are heading in the opposite direction.

  Elle frowns. ‘Rude.’

  ‘’Cos the girlfriend’s with him,’ Kenzie says.

  ‘He’s got better things to do than be spending his day off with us.’ I begin to walk off, and grudgingly the girls follow me.

  ‘Thought he’d be with Dad.’

  I pause and realise I’d assumed Jason would be helping Iain today in Pirton. Weird, but not unusual, I suppose.

  We head to the Italian restaurant despite my earlier preference, and I take the opportunity to tell Kenzie about Elle’s party being postponed. She hardly seems bothered and Elle appears to relax about the whole idea, to my relief.

  I feel better now she seems to be accepting the change, and after we’ve eaten our main meal and are waiting on dessert, I see someone approach us, with so much hate in her eyes, I’m almost sick.

  CHAPTER 13

  CHARLOTTE

  My mouth goes dry when Ruby Tate’s eyes meet mine. I’m worried for the girls, and I look between them, but they’re too busy looking at something on Kenzie’s phone.

  I look back in Ruby’s direction and she’s marching over towards the table. Her fists are at her sides, clenching, unclenching.

  She has a bag slung across her body and it hits a waitress in the back as she shoves past another table to get to ours.

  I stand up when she’s just feet from us.

  I raise my hands. ‘I don’t want any trouble,’ I say and gesture to the girls.

  ‘You bitch,’ Ruby says.

  Other diners have started to look over, confusion on their faces.

  Elle and Kenzie have now looked up from the phone. If Kenzie knows who this woman is, she doesn’t show it, but Elle looks worried.

  ‘Mum?’

  ‘It’s all right,’ I say. I try to sound confident but I fear my voice sounds strangled, caught in my throat.

  ‘You’ve got a fucking nerve,’ Ruby says. This rouses a few murmurs from the other customers, who are now looking to the staff to do something, but they look just as dumbstruck as everyone else.

  I hold my hand out as if it might somehow calm her down.

  ‘Whatever you think of me, this is not the time or the place,’ I say.

  She just stares at me, pure hatred in her eyes. She looks me over from head to toe. I’m conscious of my scar but I fight the urge not to raise my hand to my face to hide it away from the world.

  My eyes drop to Ruby’s hands again. Her fingers are curling then uncurling. Her body is twitching too, with anger. It’s like she’s alive with electricity and is waiting for the right moment to strike.

  Ruby’s a lot younger than me but her face has more lines, her skin sallow from years of smoking. I can smell her from here, the ash and the twist of sweat. She’s not wearing a coat, and the red top she’s wearing is a darker shade at her armpits.

  She’s not just angry. She’s nervous too.

  I look to the bag again.

  It’s tote material, powder-blue and it looks heavy. The strap seams appear to be straining against its weight. She grips the strap with one hand, her knuckles white she’s gripping so hard.

  ‘You think you’re so clever, don’t you?’ she says.

  ‘Mum?’ Elle says, but I cut her off with a swift raise of my hand, my eyes never leaving Ruby’s.

  And the bag.

  What’s in that bag?

  The woman who’s been waiting on our table comes over. The rest of the restaurant is now completely silent and a quick sweep of the expressions on the faces of the people on the table immediately next to ours reveals that two of them have their mobiles out and appear to be filming us.

  ‘I don’t know what’s going on,’ the waitress says, ‘but you need to leave now, before I call the police.’

  ‘Then call them,’ Ruby says, her eyes flicking to the waitress, then back to me. ‘Tell them this bitch is lying.’

  ‘I’m not lying. I never lied,’ I say. I keep my voice measured despite the fear and anger I can feel bubbling up inside me.

  Ruby lets out a laugh of disbelief and I see her eyes brim with tears as she points at me. She jabs her finger in my direction, stabbing at the space between us.

  ‘You’re ruining his life. Our life. You know that and you don’t fucking care!’

  Before I can say anything, she’s gone for the opening of the bag and instinct takes over.

  I dive forward to shove Ruby back and away from Elle. It’s barely enough. I catch her on the shoulder but it slows her down no more than a fraction of a second because I feel the liquid she’s just thrown at me land over my head.

  Acid. That’s my first thought, my fear.

  I hear screams coming from Elle and Kenzie and gasps from other diners.

  When I don’t feel like my face is on fire, I open my eyes a fraction. I hear some kid on a table near us say, ‘That’s sick,’ in a tone that means he thinks it’s cool rather than something bad.

  Red. That’s what I see, and another jar in Ruby’s hand as she throws more liquid at me.

  It’s then that I smell it.

  It’s blood.

  Thick and cold.

  ‘Call security, call the police,’ someone says, as I wipe the mess from my eyes. I peer at Ruby, standing there, tears streaming down her cheeks, wearing a look of shock on her face, as if she can’t believe what she’s just done. Then she seems to snap back to her normal self, and the hardness and hate of before return to her eyes.

  ‘This is on you,’ she says. ‘Blood on your hands, ruining a man’s life.’

  ‘Crazy bitch,’ I hear Kenzie say as I realise she’s hugging Elle into her. I see Elle’s shoulders rise and fall, face buried in Kenzie’s hair. She’s crying and I just want to comfort her, but in my current state . . .

  ‘It wasn’t my fault, Ruby,’ I say. ‘He did this, not me.’

  ‘Liar!’

  She goes to move, maybe throw herself at me. I just don’t know. All I can see now is a man in the shopping-centre security uniform grabbing her firmly by the shoulders.

  With that, Ruby is on him, fighting, clawing.

  I don’t want to see this. I just want to run, even if the smell of blood is alive in my senses.

  CHAPTER 14

  CHARLOTTE

  Iain’s angry with
me.

  He’s angry with me because I didn’t go ahead with pressing charges against Ruby. He thinks I should have, especially given the state Elle was in when we finally got home from the police station, but I just couldn’t bring myself to.

  As terrible as it was to be confronted like that, there is far worse going on.

  Poor Elle, though.

  She’d been crying a lot in the restaurant. By the time Iain met us at the station, she’d all but cried herself dry.

  Kenzie’s mother had come to collect her. Kenzie herself was no worse for wear. She’d thought it an entertaining interlude in an otherwise boring shopping trip. She’d taken a photograph of me covered in blood with her phone.

  Her mother made her delete it but not before Kenzie had posted it on her numerous social media accounts. She’s taken it down now, but you know what happens – once something’s been posted online . . . Of course it makes no difference that Kenzie took her posts down. There were at least two other people filming Ruby’s outburst. I daren’t google the incident. If I’m on YouTube, I’d rather not see.

  It’s Elle who worries me.

  This will circulate, word will get around, and there’s nothing I can do to shelter her from any of this.

  ‘She’ll need to toughen up a bit,’ Iain had said, which, for him, was unusual, but I put that down to the shock of it all. This affects him too.

  I get why Ruby’s angry, I really do, but to target me? With my family around?

  I cringe now at the thought of all those people watching, seeing me humiliated.

  It’s unforgivable.

  I’d called Savannah when I was at the police station and she took Elle home while I gave the police my statement.

  She’s sitting here now on the sofa. She picks up her mug of coffee and takes a sip. When she sets it down again, she shakes her head.

  ‘Maybe we should just cancel the charity fete?’

  ‘Yes,’ Iain says from the other end of the sofa. ‘That’s exactly what I was going to say.’

  ‘You would say that,’ I say, and fold my arms. I look at them both. ‘We can’t do that. That’s letting her win.’

  ‘Charlotte,’ Savannah says quietly. ‘She did throw blood on you . . .’

  It was pig’s blood, sourced from the butcher’s apparently.

  ‘Ruby wasn’t – isn’t – sorry,’ Savannah continues. ‘She doesn’t think she did anything wrong.’

  ‘I refuse to be intimidated by some immature little girl,’ I say. I sound bold but inside I do have my reservations.

  Paul Selby had no idea what she’d done. He arrived to collect her from the station, although I never saw him, for obvious reasons. If her boyfriend can’t control her . . .

  ‘It’s common assault, Char,’ Iain’s saying to me now.

  It’s late, after midnight. He’s tired – we all are – but he can’t seem to settle to go to bed, and neither can I, despite us both having to be up in a few hours for work.

  ‘Surely you understand why I didn’t?’ I say.

  ‘I really think you should. It’s not too late.’ Savannah now.

  I shiver and try to focus.

  I still have a towel wrapped around my head from where I washed and scrubbed my scalp in the shower earlier, trying to rid myself of all trace of the blood. Even though my hair is now bone-dry underneath the towel, I can’t bring myself to let it down.

  I fear I might still be able to smell it, feel it running down my face, into my eyes.

  The blood.

  It had a thick, coppery scent and it’s like I’ll never feel clean again.

  I sit down on the sofa between them and let my head rest in my hands.

  Iain shuffles up closer to me and I feel his hand on my back. I can sense he wants to tell me something. I can guess what it is.

  ‘Ruby’s . . . unpredictable,’ he says.

  I sense him look across my shoulders. He must be exchanging a look with Savannah, but I pretend I haven’t noticed.

  ‘Yesterday,’ he continues, but stops when I place my hand on his arm.

  ‘The note left on the front door?’ I say. He looks at me, wide-eyed. ‘Jason told me. That’s why he was with Elle when I got home.’

  He pauses, lips parted. He sits so close to me I can see each line and crack on his lower lip. I try to focus on it, anything to help keep my mind from racing.

  ‘Why didn’t you say anything to me?’ he says.

  ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’ I raise my eyes to his.

  He looks pale, I notice, as if seeing him for the first time today.

  ‘I didn’t think you needed the added stress.’ He shakes his head. ‘I should’ve kept that note, we could’ve used it today.’ He looks at me. ‘You could’ve – we could’ve – used this, got her charged for harassment maybe as well as assault.’

  ‘She wounded my pride, nothing else.’

  ‘She scared our daughter, Char, and she could’ve thrown something far worse at you, or even had a weapon.’

  ‘She got a caution.’

  ‘She needs locking up.’

  ‘We’re not cancelling the fete. We owe it to Ruth to go ahead . . . And they wouldn’t lock Ruby up for throwing blood. She’d get a fine and have to pay me a victim surcharge or something.’

  ‘Good, we need the money.’

  I see he’s only partially joking.

  He looks down at me, pulls me closer for a hug. ‘Sorry. I shouldn’t be making jokes.’

  I shrug. ‘Your way of dealing with it all, I guess.’

  I feel his grip loosen. ‘Char?’ he says at length.

  ‘Hmm?’

  ‘Back at the station . . .’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘What was up with you? You seemed distant.’

  Savannah stands up abruptly.

  We both look at her. She looks uncomfortable.

  ‘I’ll check on Elle,’ she says and, when she leaves the room, Iain seems to be following her, eyes raised towards the ceiling even though he can’t see her.

  The floorboards creak overhead.

  ‘Of course I was distant,’ I say now, bringing his attention back to me. ‘I was embarrassed. Still am.’ My smile is thin as I try and make light of everything. ‘I looked like an homage to Carrie, or some human sacrifice.’

  He shifts his weight and eases himself a little farther away from me now.

  ‘Even so . . .’ he says.

  What more does he want from me?

  ‘I was in shock.’

  It was a blur, like I was somewhere else. I was just going through the motions, like I was in a daydream – or nightmare – however you want to look at it. I was behaving how most people would – dazed, confused. Angry. Upset.

  I shy away from him, put some distance between us.

  ‘Sometimes,’ he says, ‘I feel like I’m losing you, like if it wasn’t for Elle, you’d be gone. We’re just co-existing right now.’

  He pauses and I see some regret in his eyes.

  ‘You never want to talk about the accident. Not to me anyway.’

  I’ve tried and I can’t talk to you about it . . . That’s what I want to say, but don’t, of course.

  He runs his hands through his hair, then rubs his forehead and sighs. ‘Your solicitor’s been calling, saying they’ve been emailing you but you haven’t responded.’

  I’ll admit, I’ve been so tired lately that I don’t recall the emails. It’s possible I’ve just not realised and sent any new mail to the trash, not that I’m about to admit that to Iain.

  ‘I’ve got enough to be dealing with,’ I say as I swing my legs up on the sofa, underneath myself.

  ‘You don’t think we should talk about what happened?’

  Maybe it’s because I’m exhausted, but I snap at him, despite knowing I shouldn’t push him away along with his need to talk about it.

  ‘She threw blood at me, scared Elle half to death and, come morning, everyone in the village will know. I’m pretty much don
e talking about it.’

  He stares at me, his hair standing at an odd angle. Iain always pulls at his hair when he’s stressed.

  ‘All the more reason to cancel this stupid fete.’

  He sees my reluctance.

  ‘Seriously,’ he spits, ‘I don’t even know why you’re bothering.’

  ‘You know why.’

  ‘You can’t bring those girls back to their mothers, Charlotte.’

  I just stare at him.

  The room is silent until, after what seems like an age, we hear the floorboards creak again and Savannah’s footfalls can be heard on the stairs.

  She can feel the iciness in the air, judging by her face now she’s back with us.

  She clears her throat.

  Iain’s eyes remained fixed on me.

  ‘Elle’s still awake,’ she says. ‘She’s asked for some water.’

  Iain springs up off the sofa. ‘I’ll get it.’

  I watch the living room door swing shut after him.

  ‘He’s just worried,’ Savannah says.

  I hold her gaze. I wait until I hear Iain go upstairs. ‘I was going to meet John today.’ I watch her face and her expression drops a little. ‘You don’t approve either?’

  She shakes her head. ‘It’s not that.’

  ‘What then?’

  ‘I think you should be talking to Iain more.’

  I dismiss her with a wave of my hand. ‘Jesus, not you too.’

  She moves across the room and sits beside me. ‘You’re very vulnerable, Charlotte. If you can’t talk to Iain, then talk to me.’

  ‘I do talk to you.’

  ‘I mean really talk to me.’

  I examine her face and see her concern is genuine, but still . . . ‘I’m meeting John tomorrow now,’ I say. She opens her mouth in protest. ‘No,’ I snap. ‘Please, Savannah. If you’re my friend you won’t say anything to Iain.’

  She looks affronted that I’d question her loyalty.

  ‘You know I’d never do that, but, Charlotte, I think you should try and talk through your fears about the accident with Iain. He already feels like an outsider in some ways.’

  My eyes flick to hers and she realises she might have said too much, judging by her face.