by Lauren North
She hands me a biscuit as I’m leaving. ‘Eat this,’ she says. ‘You look like you need it.’
I smile and do as I’m told before walking out into the rain. It’s been drizzling since lunchtime and the pavements are slick with it. Puddles dot the road and I walk fast, head down against the cold droplets.
‘Anna,’ a voice calls from behind me as I reach the alley. I turn to find Tracy jogging towards me, her chocolate Labrador running alongside her, pink tongue flopping out of its mouth. She’s wearing her usual activewear beneath a yellow Joules rain mac and looks lithe and radiant. My eyes travel to my black jeans, faded and baggy in the wrong places, and my cheap coat that’s already damp on the inside. I feel frumpy and haggard under her gaze.
‘Hi, how are you, Tracy?’ I say out of politeness. I’m too tired, too everything, to chat. ‘All set for Halloween on Saturday?’
‘Almost,’ she laughs. ‘Every year Olivia and Freya egg us on and we end up going crazy. I’ve had Amazon boxes arriving every day this week. Even Buster here has a devil costume this year.’
I smile and ignore the stab of jealousy that cuts far deeper than it should. The mortgage debt weighs heavy on my mind, but it’s not Tracy’s fault she has expendable income. I used to be exactly like her, buying whatever took my fancy. It’s hard to think of a time when I’ll have enough money, let alone anything spare, but if that day comes I will never be frivolous again.
‘I was just coming to knock for you,’ Tracy says and we pause as Buster cocks his leg and splashes urine up an overgrown thorn bush.
‘Oh?’
‘It’s about the Parish Council clerk role.’
‘Actually, that’s great because I have a question,’ I reply.
‘Fire away.’
‘I’ve been reading through the rules of the Parish Council and it states that three quotes are needed for any job undertaken over £500, but I’m sorting everything into folders and I can only find the one quote from Stockton’s for the village hall roof. Am I looking in the wrong place for the other quotes? I need to add them to the files in case the Parish Council is ever audited.’
‘Oh I’m sure they’re somewhere. Can I ask who gave you access to the Google drive?’
‘Kat did,’ I reply. ‘Why? Is there a problem?’
‘It’s just that we’ve historically never given a clerk access to all of our files. There is some very confidential information in them and we can’t have it getting into the wrong hands.’
‘Am I the wrong hands?’ I raise my eyebrows and muster a laugh, understanding now why the files are such a mess. They’ve never had anyone to organize them before.
‘I don’t know. Are you? You’re not exactly the first person to offer to help.’ Tracy laughs and nudges me. ‘I’m joking, obviously.’
I force myself to smile but the malice in her question stings more than I care to admit.
‘I’m sure the other quotes for the village hall roof are somewhere around. I’ll dig them out for you.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Kat wasn’t wrong about your organizational skills.’ There’s something in Tracy’s tone that makes it sound far from a compliment and I glance at the side profile of her face and wonder if I’m misreading something. This whole conversation feels strange, like I’m being told off and I don’t know why.
‘What did you want to talk about?’ I ask as we leave the alley and walk towards the school.
‘It’s about the emails you’ve sent to the PC members.’
‘Is there a problem?’
‘No, of course not. We’re so grateful to have you on board and helping out.’ She smiles, flashing beautiful white teeth. ‘It’s just that some of these issues don’t need to be sent to all members. As I’m sure you can imagine, some of us are more invested in the work we do than others. As I said at the meeting, Barry Glebe and Mary Swanson are elderly and only attend the AGM. We don’t like to bother them with the little things.’
‘I see.’ I really don’t. ‘So who shouldn’t I be sending emails to?’
‘And the horse field rental query that came in,’ she continues without answering my question. ‘Obviously, it’s great that you took the initiative to send out the forms to Mr and Mrs Randell, but we can’t rent the field at the moment. It’s not in a good state. If we’re going to allow live animals in the field then we have a duty of care to ensure it’s safe. There’s a fence at the back that’s fallen down and I’m told the stable roof is leaking. They’re relatively easy fixes and we’ll get round to them at some point but right now we can’t rent the field. If you’d checked with me or Anthony first it would’ve saved disappointing the Randells.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. I assumed you’d be glad of the income. I’ll let Mr Randell know. I’m sure he’ll be fine. There’s another field in the next village he was looking at too.’
‘It’s fine. How about for now, you send all the emails and questions you have to me and I will share them with the relevant people.’
‘No problem,’ I say as we approach the school, glad of the rain and my hood hiding the worst of my flaming face. Something niggles in the back of my mind but I’m flustered from the conversation and can’t pin it down.
Cars are parked in a long snaking line down the road and I’m about to change the subject when Sandra jogs up beside us. She glances between us quickly and from the questioning look on her face I wonder if she can sense the tension too.
‘Hey ladies,’ Sandra says. ‘You’ll never guess what.’
‘What?’ Tracy raises an eyebrow and smiles at me and then Sandra. It’s as though the last few minutes didn’t happen and I wonder again if I’ve misinterpreted Tracy’s tone.
‘Jack just told me that he knows who vandalized the school.’
‘Really?’ Tracy’s voice jumps with excitement. ‘Was it that boy Kai?’
‘He wouldn’t tell me. Apparently he thinks I’m a gossip.’ She places a hand on her chest as though the very notion hurts and then she laughs. ‘He did say that it wasn’t Kai, but that it was someone at the school and that the parents are going to be invited in to a special meeting on Monday.’
‘Wow,’ Tracy says. ‘I wonder who it was. There are some feisty characters in Year Five, don’t you think?’
As we enter the playground to collect the children, Sandra and Tracy step away and I stand alone. They bend their heads together and I wonder who they’re gossiping about now. Sandra flicks a glance at me before dropping her eyes and my cheeks smart as I realize the answer.
Village Girlies’ Secret Group Chat
Thursday 29 October, 16.04
Tracy Campbell: OMG I still can’t believe it!
Sandra Briggs: I was pretty surprised too.
Bev Pritchett: What? TELL ME NOW! I hate that you all get to meet without me during the school run.
Sandra Briggs: LOL! You can pick my kids up for me any time, Bev.
Tracy Campbell: Is Jack sure?
Sandra Briggs: 100%.
Kat Morris: What’s this about?
Sandra Briggs: Jack knows who vandalized the fence and threw the toilet roll everywhere.
Bev Pritchett: OMG! Just spoke to Mike. Is it bad that I’m not surprised???
Village Girlies’ Secret Group Chat
Friday 30 October, 08.55
Bev Pritchett: Can’t stop thinking about it! Is anyone going to tell Anna?
CHAPTER 45
Friday, one day until Halloween
Anna
I step into the school playground, wincing at the noise of the children. My head is pounding from a night of broken sleep and what-ifs. My thoughts flit from one thing to another. Harrie, Rob, debt, Dean, Harrie again and again. In the space of nine days Harrie has faded, morphed – whatever the word – into a child I barely recognize, one I don’t know how to read or talk to, and my desperation for answers is eating me alive.
The rain has stopped but the clouds are still looming, threatening to start
again at any moment. It feels more like dusk than morning.
‘Hey you,’ Kat says, nudging her shoulder against mine like she always does. ‘How’s it going? Are you feeling any better today?’
‘Me? I’m fine. It’s Harrie I’ve been worried about.’
‘I know. That’s what I meant,’ she says, but I don’t think it was, and I realize with a flash of anger how belittling it is to be constantly told I worry too much, that the problem is me and not the world. I know I’m anxious sometimes, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong or stupid or less than anyone else.
‘Can I ask you something?’ I say, turning to Kat. Her smile falters but she nods. ‘Do you know about this rumour that I’m having an affair with Dean Stockton?’
The answer is there in her silence. No wide-eyed surprise, no ‘OMG, what?’ She gives a short nod. ‘I didn’t believe it.’
‘Who started it? Where did it come from?’
Kat shrugs. ‘Where do any of these stupid rumours come from? Every time I’ve heard it, I’ve said it’s rubbish.’
‘It is.’
‘Exactly. Don’t worry. It’s just village gossip at its worst. I dread to think what people say about me. By the way, did you see that letter from the school about the Christmas Fair? I wondered if you wanted to run a stall together selling hot chocolates and cookies or something.’
‘Who did you hear the rumour from?’ I ask, ignoring Kat’s attempt to change the subject.
‘God, I can’t even remember. Anna – it doesn’t matter. No one believes it. People haven’t got anything better to do with their time.’
My heart is thundering in my chest. Heat is pulsing through my body and I want to keep pressing Kat for answers but I know she won’t tell me anything more.
‘I meant to say,’ Kat continues, her voice light and bubbly again, like we’re having any other conversation. ‘Anthony was asking me if I thought you might be interested in a job working at Stockton’s.’
The question throws me. ‘What kind of job? I’ve already done their website.’
‘Admin, I think, and also some kind of internet advertising thing. He said a special name …’ She frowns, waving her hand in front of me like a terrible game of charades. ‘It’s called search something. Anyway, I think you’ve impressed him with your organizational skills. Just like I knew you would. So what do you think? I think Anthony wants me to sound you out about it first, so he’s not putting you on the spot by asking.’
My immediate answer is no. My website business is growing slowly, but it is growing. I need to put myself out there more. Go to one of these local networking events. That’s where my focus should be, but the letter from the debt collectors rushes through my mind and I know we need all the money we can get right now. ‘I … guess, maybe. It would depend on the hours.’
‘Great,’ Kat beams. ‘I’ll let him know.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Has there been any word from Rob?’ Kat asks then.
Hurt rises up and I think again how Rob has chosen the worst week to disappear. His lies are stacking up. I’m starting to believe that his disappearance is connected to them. Did he know the debt collectors would be getting in touch this week? Is that the real reason he’s not called us?
My eyes roam the playground, watching Molly play hopscotch with Olivia. Harrie and Elise are in the corner of the playground talking to Ben. Their heads are bent close. Whatever they’re talking about, it looks serious. It looks like they’re arguing, in fact.
Mr Pritchett arrives in the playground, checking his watch and nodding to one of the teachers before turning to face me. Our eyes meet for a moment and I smile, lifting my hand in a wave. He stares back for a beat before turning away as though he didn’t see my greeting.
‘Anna?’ Kat says.
‘Sorry. Yes, Rob called yesterday. The line was terrible. I don’t know what’s going on.’ My voice cracks. ‘I’m hoping he’ll call on Sunday or I don’t know what I’m going to do. Go to the police, maybe.’
‘Oh Anna. Why didn’t you call me yesterday? You know I’m here for you. I’m sure Rob is fine. I bet the Wi-Fi is down or something. How’s Harrie?’
The bell rings before I can answer and I make a fuss of saying goodbye to the girls. Molly first and then the twins.
‘Mum, can I skip gymnastics tonight?’ Elise asks as I kiss the top of her head.
‘Um … I don’t know. I guess so. Why? Are you feeling OK?’
She gives a slow nod, her eyes looking from Harrie to the rest of her class, now trudging into school. ‘Just tired.’
‘All right. Let’s see how you are later. Are you sure you’re OK to be here today?’ I ask Harrie before she can walk away.
She hesitates for a moment. Her face has a gaunt paleness that churns my stomach. ‘Think so. Last day before half-term,’ she adds with a shrug.
‘I’m not going to leave her side today,’ Elise says. ‘So she can’t get in trouble for something she doesn’t do.’
I watch Harrie and Elise walk in together, a metre behind the rest of their class, as though separate from them somehow. When I turn around Tracy is standing by Kat’s side and they’re waiting for me at the gate.
‘I just told Tracy about Rob,’ Kat says as I approach.
‘Is there anything we can do?’ Tracy’s smile is sympathetic and I find myself searching her face for the tension I felt yesterday, but all I see is concern.
I shake my head. ‘I’m sure it’s fine. You know what a worrier I am,’ I say, hiding behind the very thing I know they all think about me.
We start to move, Tracy one side of me, Kat the other.
‘Here.’ Tracy pulls out her phone. ‘This will cheer you up.’ She opens a video and hands me the phone so Kat and I can both watch Buster chasing around the garden like a loon in a red devil costume. Kat laughs and says something to Tracy, but I’m not listening any more. I’m too busy reading my name in the message from Bev that has dropped down from the top of the screen.
I take an extra step forwards and click on the message. The app opens and a stream of messages appear before my eyes. Village Girlies’ Secret Group. What the hell?
I keep scrolling and take a sharp intake of breath at seeing Kat’s name.
‘You OK?’ Kat asks.
I say nothing as Tracy steps closer, her hand stretched out to take back her phone, but I carry on reading, scrolling up and up. My face feels hot, my skin clammy despite the cold.
‘What’s this about the vandal?’ I ask. ‘Why is Bev asking if someone should tell me?’
Kat and Tracy exchange a look. They have the decency to look sheepish.
‘I’m not sure how,’ Kat says, ‘but Jack found out that Harrie was responsible for vandalizing the school.’
My gaze shifts from Tracy to Kat and back again.
‘No.’ I shake my head. ‘Harrie and Elise were with you that day. They came over to play with Ben.’
Kat shrugs. ‘I let them go to the park for a bit. She must have done it then.’
I shake my head again.
Harrie is the vandal.
It’s not true. It can’t be.
CHAPTER 46
Anna
‘We’re sorry,’ Tracy says, reaching towards me, and I realize I’m still holding her phone.
I jerk my hand, keeping it out of reach. ‘Sorry because Harrie is responsible for damaging a fence, or sorry for having a secret message group to gossip about me? What are we, teenagers again?’
‘It’s an old group,’ Tracy tries to explain. ‘From before you moved here. It only says “secret” as a joke about not telling the husbands. It’s not about—’
‘If you’ve got something to say to me about my children, at least have the decency to say it to my face.’ I shove the phone back at Tracy and stride away.
‘Anna, wait,’ Kat calls after me.
I spin around. ‘Don’t.’ Our eyes meet and I’m ambushed by a sudden wave of hurt. This is my best friend an
d I don’t recognize her at all.
The rain starts as I storm away. Big fat drops of it that soak through my trainers in seconds, but I don’t care.
Harrie is the vandal.
I don’t believe it.
Harrie wouldn’t kick down a fence. I don’t care how much she’s changed these last few days; I will not believe spiteful gossip without speaking to Harrie and hearing her side of things. I made the mistake of believing Mike Pritchett when he told me Harrie had punched a boy. I won’t do the same again.
I have a sudden urge to turn on my heels, march back to the school and get Harrie. I want to scream and shout and beg her to tell me everything, but what good will it do me right now? I need to pull myself together before I speak to Harrie. So I squash it down, and when I reach my front door, I keep walking.
I’m wound up, coiled like a spring, and there is nothing in my house that can relieve this feeling.
I walk to the end of the road, past the empty horse field. The rain stops, the day brightens. I’m hot and frazzled, inside and out. It’s only when I reach the edge of the village that I realize where I’m going.
Dean and Sue’s house is an old Tudor property, on the corner of the main road. The walls are dark pink, the window frames white. It looks like the wooden doll’s house Molly wants for Christmas. A huge wisteria stretches its gnarly branches across the house. I bet it’s beautiful in bloom.
The front door is blocked by flowerpots and hanging baskets filled with winter pansies. A brass Beware of the dog sign is screwed to a black gate at the side of the house and I hear the first yap as I lift the handle.
Sue looks even older today as she opens a door at the side. Dark circles ring her eyes and there’s a tremor in her hand as she scoops Timmy into her arms.
‘I’m sorry to bother you,’ I stammer, suddenly unsure why I’m here.
Sue doesn’t reply and so I carry on. ‘I don’t really know why I’ve come, except to ask if Dean is OK. I heard he’s in Scotland.’
Sue’s eyes widen then narrow. ‘Who told you that?’