All the Little Lies

by Chris Curran

  They sat in silence again. Eve drank some of her water, walked up and down. When she sat beside her dad again he took her hand. His was cool, the skin papery.

  ‘Promise me you won’t say anything to Mum until she’s better.’

  ‘Of course, I won’t.’

  She thought that was all, but he took a shuddering breath.

  ‘I think she feels guilty because of the way we persuaded your mother to leave you with us.’

  A jolt inside almost like one of Ivy’s kicks, her hand going instinctively to her stomach. It was still surprising to find it flat and empty. ‘What do you mean?’

  He squeezed her fingers just a bit too hard, but she stayed still. ‘Stella loved you, Eve, but although we didn’t want to believe she had attacked Ben, we did think she was unstable. For one thing we knew her background was very troubled. Her own mother was a drug addict, apparently.’

  ‘Did you hear all this from Pamela?’

  ‘Some of it. But Ben mentioned something early on. During the exhibition at Houghton’s. I imagine he got it from her friend.’

  ‘Maggie, you mean?’

  ‘Yes, and Ben also said she came to his office once accusing him of stealing some drawings she’d done.’

  His grip on her hand was too tight and she moved her fingers to make him release it. He stretched out one leg and then the other, and she saw a twist of pain skid across his face.

  When he sat back she said, ‘I don’t understand what you mean about persuading Stella to leave me.’

  He sighed. ‘Your birth was quite difficult and she was very young, so Mum did an awful lot for you right from the start. Stella hadn’t painted at all while she was pregnant, but she suddenly started going at it full pelt. So Mum began to help out more and more.’

  He got to his feet and walked stiffly around the waiting room, his hand pressing at the small of his back. ‘Shouldn’t keep still for so long.’ When he did sit again he rubbed his knee where she knew he often had arthritis.

  She waited. ‘We hoped Stella would stay nearby, in Hastings, where we could keep an eye on you both. But she started talking about visiting Maggie in Italy, which we didn’t think was a good idea. I mean from what I remembered Maggie wasn’t very reliable. And she had turned against Stella once before.’

  ‘But she did go, and without me. Why was that?’

  ‘She was clearly under a lot of stress and frankly we were worried about both of you, so we suggested she go on her own. Have a holiday and think things through.’

  ‘And she just let herself be persuaded?’ Who was she feeling so angry with? Stella was dead. There was no point in feeling bitter towards her. And when she heard a huge sigh from her dad she felt even worse. This wasn’t the right time to be cross-questioning him. ‘I’m sorry, Dad. You’re feeling awful and I’m not helping.’

  ‘I just want to be sure everything will be all right between you when Mum comes round.’

  She couldn’t answer. Was still too confused.

  She could hear him breathing hard and fast. His flimsy plastic chair gave a loud creak as he twisted towards her. ‘Eve, my darling, I’m very tired and I don’t know even now if I should tell you this.’ A little cough that turned into a longer wheeze. He pulled out a tissue and wiped his mouth. ‘As I said, Stella seemed to be suffering from stress. She was painting as if she was possessed and the rest of the time she was either tramping the streets or sleeping so deeply that she didn’t wake when you cried.’

  The look on his face told her there was more. ‘Dad, please. It’s too late to hold anything back now.’

  ‘We couldn’t stop her from leaving, but we needed to make sure you were safe.’

  A silence such as she had never known before. ‘Safe from my own mother? What do you mean?’ Please don’t say it. But she had pushed him too far and, even if he didn’t tell now, she knew the truth. Better to say it herself. ‘Did my mother try to hurt me?’

  He took both her hands in his. ‘I’m so sorry, Eve. But she did and we thought – and the health visitor agreed – that she could be a danger to you.’

  Stella

  The London gallery had sold the paintings David had taken there. So she’d have some money soon. And Maggie had written again to say the purchase of the Italian house was moving forward. If she wanted to take Eve, she would have to get her a passport. But Jill kept suggesting she go alone. ‘I’ve no need to go back to work, so it won’t be a problem.’ She mentioned it to the health visitor, Vicky, when she called round. ‘Stella’s friend has asked her over to Italy for a holiday.’

  And Vicky, ‘Ooh you lucky girl. Wish I had friends like that. And it won’t do Eve any harm at all to leave her with Jill for a couple of weeks. They’re very adaptable at this age. In fact it’s better to go now rather than later when she’s really attached.’ She added that she could see Stella was finding things difficult like so many young single mothers do, and Stella ran her fingers through her hair wishing she’d combed it this morning. When Vicky suggested she ask the doctor for something to help her relax, Jill nodded and said that was a good idea, but Stella could feel herself flinch.

  Vicky’s voice, telling her it would only be for a short time of course, then Jill’s saying she’d taken Valium herself when she went through a bad patch, became a nasty background hum. It failed to drown out the loud whine in her head, which was her own mother’s voice: It was those sleeping tablets and the tranquillizers they doled out to me when you were tiny that got me onto the rest of it. Ruined my life.

  The health visitor must have spoken to the doctor because he came by later on and spent five minutes asking Stella how she was before eating a piece of cake and writing out a prescription. Stella just smiled, like the little girl they were treating her as. She wasn’t going to take the pills, but didn’t say that. All she needed to focus on now was getting to Italy with Eve.

  The cheque from the gallery arrived on a Wednesday morning when Jill always went for coffee with a friend who lived on the other side of the park. She walked there, so Stella planned to take the car, go to the bank to pay in the cheque and get the forms for Eve’s passport. There was no need for Jill and David to know about it until the last minute.

  Eve was deeply asleep in her Moses basket, and a door off the kitchen led into the back of the garage, so it was easy to carry her through and load her into the car seat.

  The main garage door at the front was an up-and-over design that was very heavy to move and sometimes stuck. When she bent down to it she pushed carefully knowing it was likely to creak as it opened.

  After that everything moved so fast she could never recall exactly what happened.

  The door squealed as it started to move. Eve began to grizzle.

  A crash behind her. And Eve screaming now. Oh God. She turned back.

  Jill stood by the open kitchen door. It had slammed against the brick wall of the garage as she flung it open. Her handbag was on the concrete floor by her feet where she must have dropped it. Her eyes were wide, mouth open. She seemed to be saying something, but Stella could only hear Eve shrieking.

  Then Jill was pulling Eve from her seat and out of the car.

  And she was gone. Back into the kitchen with Eve in her arms.

  When Stella got there, Jill was still holding Eve, pacing up and down by the window. Eve was screaming louder.

  Stella stood frozen by the door her mind whirling, heart thumping. Something was wrong. But what? She tried to ask, but her voice wouldn’t work. All she could do was watch as Jill rocked Eve and whispered to her. When the baby’s cries turned to soft hiccupy sobs Jill came to sit with her beside the Aga.

  She looked up at Stella standing by the door to the garage and said, ‘Please shut that. It’s chilly. Then why don’t you make us some coffee.’ Stella closed the door, but otherwise she couldn’t move. It had taken all her effort to get this far. Jill’s voice was little more than a whisper. ‘I only came back early because I forgot the biscuits. Thank God I di
d.’

  Stella managed to say, ‘What do you mean? What happened?’

  Eve had stopped crying and Jill stood, still rocking her. ‘Let’s not talk about that just now. I have to make a phone call.’ She took the baby with her.

  So dazed she didn’t know what else to do, Stella found herself putting on the coffee maker, fiddling with cups and milk. After a few moment’s Jill came back. ‘She seems fine now,’ she said. ‘Why don’t you take her?’

  Sitting in the easy chair Stella tried to slow her heart. Eve gazed calmly up at her, and Jill bustled about looking in cupboards, turning on taps, rattling in drawers, still not explaining. Stella’s voice was a croak. ‘I don’t understand. What was wrong with Eve?’

  The front door opened. ‘Hello, folks.’ David home early. He kissed Jill’s cheek, walked over to the coffee maker and touched the glass with his palm. ‘Great,’ and poured himself a mug. A huge sigh. ‘How’s it going?’

  Jill said, ‘We’ve had a bit of a shock, but it’s all fine now.’

  David gave Stella one of his gentle smiles, rubbing his hand over his jaw. ‘I gather you had a bad night with Eve?’

  She could only shake her head. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘There’s nothing to apologize for. That’s what babies do.’ He gave a little chuckle that didn’t sound genuine. ‘Or that’s what they tell me anyway.’

  Why was he here? Why was any of this happening? She looked at Jill. ‘I don’t understand.’ If she said it often enough …

  Jill gave another of her sweet, sad smiles and a slow headshake. ‘You have to be more careful. I’m sure it was just because you were so tired, but I can’t understand why you had the engine on with the doors closed.’

  She stared from Jill to David in shock. They looked back with sad, concerned eyes until she managed to croak, ‘I didn’t.’ And then because they obviously didn’t understand. ‘I was going to the bank.’

  The cheque, yes, the cheque would prove that at least. But, of course, she had left her handbag on the car seat and the doors unlocked. Her purse and the cheque from the gallery were in there, and the up-and-over door wasn’t too secure. She lowered Eve gently into her basket very aware of Jill and David watching her, then took the car keys from the table where she’d dropped them.

  It was cold in the garage: the main door was half up and the back door of the car was still open. Stella’s bag was on the front seat.

  Except it wasn’t.

  She looked in the back, under the seats, in the boot, then bent down to peer under the car. Her bag was gone, along with the cheque.

  David was by the door to the kitchen just where Jill had stood earlier on. ‘Anything wrong?’

  Wanting to scream, but knowing she mustn’t, she said, ‘I can’t find my bag. It had the cheque in it.’

  David closed the boot, took the keys from her limp hand and locked the car. ‘Maybe it’s in the kitchen.’ He put his arm around her and she longed to rest her head on his shoulder. But she pulled away. She needed to find the bag.

  Back in the kitchen Jill was heating a bottle for Eve, who was rubbing her face with tiny pink fists and beginning to make little squeaks of irritation. Jill turned to Stella and gave her the same kind smile as always. ‘Do you want to feed her?’

  Shaking her head, hardly able to breathe, Stella said, ‘Did you bring my bag in from the car?’

  Jill frowned, glanced at David and said, ‘No, I didn’t even see it. I don’t think you had it with you.’

  Of course she did. She was going to the bank. And she hadn’t turned on the engine. She clung to those thoughts.

  Jill was asking if she had looked in her room. And although it couldn’t be there Stella ran up.

  It was sitting in the middle of her bed. Everything still inside.

  How had this happened? Surely she hadn’t been up here since taking Eve to the car? She stood, breathing hard. Her windows were open and a chill breeze blew the curtains, making her shiver. She dragged at her hair. Felt as if she was going mad.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Eve

  My mother tried to hurt me. Eve didn’t ask her dad anything more. Didn’t want to know the details yet. Wasn’t sure she would ever want to know them. She walked fast away from him, down the long corridors and out through the main doors of the hospital all the time trying not to hear her own thoughts. My own mother was a danger to me. She had left her coat hanging on the back of her chair in the waiting room and she was shivering even before she got out into the night.

  It was too late to call Alex and she wasn’t sure she could tell him anyway. Instead she paced up and down. Followed the lights to walk all the way round the main carpark and then towards the back of the hospital.

  It explained everything, of course. Why they’d tried to keep Stella’s identity from her. And all the little evasions once she did find out.

  And just like that the memory that had been teasing at the edge of her consciousness all these weeks came back to her. Long ago there had been a painting in the same style as Stella Carr’s in the kitchen of their old home. It was of her mum and dad and the house. It had to be one Stella had done while she lived there. And that could explain why Eve started drawing all those shooting stars. And why the signature looked so familiar. She had been very young, but seemed to recall her mum telling her not to keep drawing the same thing over and over; to try something else. And instinctively she’d known her mother didn’t like the stars.

  When she had grown into a teenager, were some of the problems she had with Jill because Jill could see her likeness to Stella and it worried her?

  If that was true she knew why now and wished she’d left it alone. Stupid, stupid.

  A huge shiver shuddered through her. What was she doing? Mum was back there, her real mum, fighting for her life.

  When she got to the waiting room a woman in doctor’s scrubs was sitting by her dad, her seat turned so close to his that their knees were touching. She stopped by the door, wanting to run back outside. Please no.

  Then her dad looked up and the tiniest of smiles allowed her to breathe again. ‘Doctor, this is my daughter, Eve.’

  The woman stood and shook her cold hand. Hers was warm and soft. Comforting. She was smiling and her brown eyes gleamed in the harsh light. ‘I’ve just been telling your father that it all went as well as we could have hoped. She’s not out of the woods yet and she’ll be in the high dependency unit for a bit, but it’s looking good.’ She turned back to David. ‘A nurse will be out in a minute to take you in to see her.’

  The nurse would only let her dad go in and when he had stumbled away after her, Eve texted Alex. It was 3 a.m. and she would probably be home again before he read it. Then she tried to clear her mind of everything except the sense of relief.

  Even on the uncomfortable chair she kept slipping in and out of a dreamlike trance so that she had no sense of time and it seemed only seconds had passed when her dad was touching her arm. She jolted upright. ‘How is she?’

  He crumpled into the chair next to her. ‘Hasn’t come round yet. They say I should go home, but what if something happens?’

  ‘They’ll call you. And you can’t do any good while she’s out of it.’

  When they parted at his car she reached up, kissed his cheek and smoothed down a few wisps of hair blown by the wind. Watching him drive away she put her hand to her diaphragm where a pain had been lodged for hours. Her mum already felt like an absence.

  In her own car she shivered again. Once the engine was running she turned the heating to full, but knew it wouldn’t get properly warm before she was home. She switched on the radio and tuned it to a music station. Didn’t care what they were playing so long as it was noisy and cheerful enough to stop her from thinking. About what might happen to her mum. About how her dad was going to cope.

  And about her other mother.

  Ben

  Even dead, dead for thirty years, that girl was a menace. Ben rolled his chair into the glass lift
and pressed to take himself down to the hall. Pamela was out and he’d heard the post arrive. Wanted to get to it first in case it was something he didn’t want her to find.

  Why had he ever got involved with Stella bloody Carr? Because she was so fucking talented. That was why. He had desperately needed money. Tried everything to fend off the loan sharks and those drawings had been a last, desperate, throw of the dice. If only Stella had been sensible it could have worked out amazingly for him and she would have been fine too. But, no, she had to be awkward. And because of her stubbornness she was dead and he was in this bloody wheelchair.

  And now there was the new exhibition. Bringing calls from people who thought he might have supplied the pictures. The folks he still owed money had long memories and, although Pamela had persuaded them that they’d squeezed all they could get out of him – out of her really – they would be coming back for more at the first sniff of a windfall. And if they thought he’d had a treasure trove of artwork concealed all these years … Well, it didn’t do even to think about that.

  He’d thought at first that David might be behind the sudden appearance of all this stuff, but that always seemed unlikely. And apparently he and the silly woman he was married to had never told the girl about her mother. Sensible decision in his opinion. But they would have known a new Stella Carr show would cause questions.

  He opened the little cage behind the letter box. Just bills, as per usual, which, for once, he was glad of. No, it had to be that other bitch, Maggie. Another one he wished he’d never met. Stella was with her when she died, so it made sense that Maggie would have got her hands on the paintings she left behind. She didn’t mention them in that pathetic letter she sent him after the fire, but, of course, she wouldn’t want him to know.

  The only surprising thing was that she’d waited so long to make use of them. Probably scared of what might happen if she made waves. Must have run out of cash now and got desperate. Thought it was all so long ago that she was safe.