Risk of Harm

by Jane Renshaw

  My feelings exactly. My fucking feelings exactly.

  Chapter 28

  Thank God for bad mothers, thought Flora, watching Selina Wright, elegant in white shirt and skinny jeans, Mulberry bag hanging from one elbow, light up a fag behind the Forsythia before bolting for the garden door and freedom. Her brood of five – or was it six? – were screaming their heads off at the bottom of the garden with Beckie and the only other three kids who had turned up to the party. Selina’s daughter Miranda was in Beckie’s class and had been invited, but her numerous siblings hadn’t been. This was an opportunity, though, for Selina to unload responsibility for a few hours, and no way was she passing it up just because Beckie’s parents were reputed to be violent towards pregnant girls and children.

  It was the same story with the hyper little boy, whose parents were obviously just grateful for the respite. And Mia’s mum, Flora suspected, was taking full advantage of the opportunity to rile Ailish. ‘Sorry Ailish is being such a bitch,’ she’d even grimaced as she’d unloaded Mia from a Land Rover that looked like it had just returned from a war zone.

  The only other kid who’d turned up was Edith.

  Her mother Shona hadn’t come in with her – she’d turned away from the door without once making eye contact, but Flora had told Edith to go through and find Beckie’s dad, and followed Shona down the path to the pavement.

  ‘Sorry Shona, can I have a quick word about... well, about Beckie and Edith?’

  The other woman, pulling her bag up her skinny shoulder, had shot her a sideways look.

  ‘I’m so sorry about the bullying – I hope there haven’t been any more problems?’

  ‘Oh no.’ A nervous smile past Flora’s left shoulder.

  Flora smiled nervously herself. ‘The thing is... I’m concerned that another child might be bullying Edith and stealing her lunch.’ This was, after all, a possibility. ‘Has she said anything to you about that...?’

  Shona shook her head, her gaze now on the pavement.

  ‘Right. It’s just... I’m a bit of a “feeder” as my friend calls it, and I always pack far too much lunch for Beckie, and Beckie says Edith has been eating the extra food and seems... well, really hungry. So I think there’s something going on there. I’ve mentioned it to Mrs Jenner, in fact...’

  Shona’s eyes met hers for a millisecond. ‘I – thank you.’

  ‘No no – there’s no need to thank me. As I say, I’m such a feeder! But –’

  ‘I suffer from depression and I’m not always...’ The poor woman was twisting the strap of her bag. ‘I’m not...’

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry.’ Flora touched her arm.

  ‘I’m not always able to look after her properly, I know that, I know Edith is suffering for it. Her dad wants custody.’

  ‘Oh Shona. Would you like to come in for a minute? I – I do understand, I think, a bit. I... Recently, I’ve had some problems myself. Please, come in and have a coffee... or maybe some iced tea?’

  For a fraction of a second Shona hesitated, and then, like a frightened deer, shook herself and backed up. ‘Thank you, no, thank you, I have to...’ And she turned and half-ran away down the pavement.

  Oh God. Poor Shona.

  Poor little Edith.

  Edith hadn’t stopped smiling nervously since she’d got here. Flora had taken Beckie to one side and told her that Edith’s mum was having problems and wasn’t well, a bit like Flora hadn’t been well, and Edith didn’t have her dad at home like Beckie did, so poor Edith wasn’t eating properly and wasn’t being looked after very well. But Beckie mustn’t tell anyone. ‘Because Edith might be taken away from her mum?’ Beckie had immediately realised, and Flora, after a moment’s thought, had nodded. ‘Edith is having a really hard time at the moment. I don’t think the problem is that she doesn’t want to be friends with you – I think she’s just very sad and, as you thought, lonely and maybe scared. I think she really needs someone looking out for her at school.’

  Beckie had frowned, and nodded.

  Now, Beckie was standing with Mia on one side and Edith on the other, and all three were poking at something in the grass with sticks, laughing. Edith poked her stick down too hard and it snapped, leaving her with a stump in her hand. Beckie, seeing this happen, swooped under a tree and returned with another stick, so big it was almost a branch, hauling it behind her with exaggerated effort until all three girls were in hysterics. Edith, accepting it from Beckie, pretended to stagger backwards, her face flushed.

  Good girl, Beckie.

  But what was she going to do about the whole Shona problem? Speak to Social Services? Karen at the Scottish Children’s Reporter Administration? But what if that meant Shona losing Edith? But maybe that would be the best thing for Edith?

  She would think about it later.

  When this damn party was over.

  Neil, when he’d eventually deigned to start speaking to Flora again, had said they had to put everything with the Johnsons aside for one afternoon and give Beckie a fun birthday. For the sake of peace Flora had pretended to agree, but she’d no intention of letting down her guard. The fact that Neil was in denial meant she had to be doubly vigilant. And it didn’t help that all the other mums of the kids that were here had bailed. She kept scanning the top of the wall, the trees, the bushes, expecting any moment to see one of the Johnson thugs. She kept wishing the kids would be quiet and not draw so much attention to themselves.

  Should she even have let them out in the garden?

  But it was a glorious, boiling hot July day. What possible reason could she give for not letting them play outside? As long as she was super-vigilant and never took her eyes off Beckie... At least Beckie was easy to spot. She was adorable in a hideous rainbow top and bright green leggings, jumping up and down and shouting. And now, in that dizzying way kids had at this age, she suddenly broke off what she was doing and raced across the grass towards Flora – and carried on past to the patio doors.

  ‘Caroline!’ She flung her arms round Caroline’s waist. ‘I thought you might have forgotten!’

  ‘Forget the social event of the year?’ Caroline had got into the party spirit in a short 1970s style dress with swirly orange and brown and white flowers on it that showed off her slim tanned legs, and she’d gone the whole hog with green eye shadow and pale pink lips.

  She looked sensational.

  ‘Is that my present?’

  ‘Maybe.’ Caroline grinned at Flora. ‘Sorry I’m late – bit of a work crisis.’

  Flora hugged her. ‘Thanks so much for coming. But if you’ve got stresses at work –’

  ‘Hey, thank you. A whole afternoon with the Beckster? What could be better de-stress than that?’

  And she grinned at Beckie, and Beckie grinned at her.

  ‘Here you go then, sweetheart. Hope you like them.’

  Beckie ripped into the paper. ‘Ooh, Gazelles!’ She pulled out the box and set it on the table. Her eyes wide, she slowly opened the lid.

  Inside were a pair of pink trainers.

  ‘Oh my God, they’re the ones! They’re the ones I really wanted!’

  ‘Yep, somehow I kind of gathered that.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Flora. ‘You shouldn’t have, though.’

  ‘Because they’re too expensive and I’ll grow out of them in like ten seconds.’ Beckie’s face had fallen comically. ‘It’s a waste of money.’

  ‘Hey, you think I care about wasting money on unnecessary clothing? I mean, hello?’ And Caroline did a graceful twirl.

  Beckie giggled. ‘Your dress is like really weird.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Caroline smiled.

  ‘Beckie!’ Neil appeared from the family room with a large bottle of Appletiser, condensation already forming on the outside, and a glass with ice in it. It was a strictly alcohol-free party.

  ‘In a good way,’ Beckie said quickly.

  ‘Say “thank you” to Caroline for the lovely present,’ said Flora.

  ‘Yes, thank y
ou thank you thank you!’

  ‘It’s my pleasure.’

  ‘Can I put them on?’ She looked from Neil to Flora.

  ‘Of course you can,’ said Neil at the same time as Flora said, ‘No, you’ll get them dirty playing in the garden.’

  ‘Mum’s right,’ Neil said at once. ‘You can wear them tomorrow for your last day of school.’

  ‘Okay.’ Beckie put them carefully back in the box. ‘I suppose I would probably mess them up playing with those skanky kids.’

  ‘Beckie!’

  ‘They are. I mean, look at them. They totally smell. And the little one dropped a turd. Me and Mia and Edith got sticks and dug a hole and buried it, but – gross. You have to admit?’

  ‘Oh.’ Flora peered down the garden. ‘Little – what’s his name? The one in the blue shorts?’

  Beckie shrugged. ‘It’s Kanga or Konga or something like equally random. And there’s snot coming out of his nose the whole time. Mia reckons he should be called Bogie Turd Boy.’

  ‘Now, he’s only little. I’d better see if he needs cleaned up.’

  ‘He so does. And all of them. But they won’t. I said to Miranda she should get that little Turd Boy cleaned up but she said he was fine, and he so isn’t.’

  Neil handed Caroline her drink.

  ‘Oh, life saver. Thanks.’ She looked at Beckie. ‘Tell you what... You’ve got a garden hose, yeah?’

  Five minutes later all the kids were squealing in terror as Caroline chased them with the hose, turning it on and off unpredictably. The game seemed to be a complicated combination of tag, capture the flag and some sort of elimination element. Little Turd Boy was soon eliminated, much to his annoyance, and while Beckie took over the hose, Caroline swept him up and carried him inside to get ‘dried off’ with the promise of a biscuit to follow.

  They re-emerged, hand in hand, the child wearing a pair of Beckie’s pants and munching happily on a chocolate digestive.

  ‘I’ve washed these out,’ said Caroline, handing Flora his little shorts and pants. ‘They’ll dry in the sun in about thirty seconds.’

  ‘Oh, thank you!’

  Turd Boy crammed in the last of the biscuit and ran to join the others in ganging up on Neil, who was, inevitably, soaked from head to foot. Even Edith seemed to have lost her inhibitions, giggling manically and shouting, ‘He’s getting away!’ when Neil made a break for it.

  ‘Haven’t had this much fun in ages,’ grinned Caroline, stretching out on a lounger and closing her eyes against the sun.

  ‘You’re a natural with them.’

  ‘Being with kids is kind of like reliving your own childhood, isn’t it, and letting them share it? Only you’re allowed to pick and choose the best bits for them.’

  Flora looked down at her. ‘Beckie loves you,’ she found herself saying.

  Caroline opened her eyes; raised her eyebrows. ‘Aw. I love her too. You lot moving here is the best thing that’s happened to me for – well, ages.’

  ‘Do you want kids yourself?’

  She shrugged. ‘Sure, but it’s the old cliché – never met the right guy to settle down with. Not that I’m looking that hard, to be honest. Kind of been focused on my career. But being with Beckie, well, it’s making me re-evaluate that, you know?’

  ‘Would you be Beckie’s guardian?’

  Caroline sat up. ‘Eh?’

  ‘I know you’ve got your career, and you probably wouldn’t want to... I mean, playing with her for an afternoon is one thing, but having her full time – And all the stuff with the Johnsons, it’s not fair to ask you...’ Humiliatingly, tears were choking her. ‘Sorry, I should never have even... Sorry.’ She turned away.

  ‘Hey, hey, Flora.’ Caroline’s arms were round her. ‘Shh. God, I’d love to, but you don’t want to give me that kind of responsibility! You hardly even know me.’

  ‘I do know you.’ Flora sniffed, pulled away, smiled shakily. ‘I feel like I’ve known you forever. Please, Caroline? Please?’

  ‘Okay, yes, of course, if you’re sure... That’s... God, Flora, I feel so honoured. Of course.’

  ‘Thank you. Oh Caroline, thank you.’

  Caroline pulled her back into the hug. ‘Flora, I – oh oh!’

  Flora whipped round. ‘What?’

  But she could see what. Beckie, Mia and Edith had slipped their leggings (or in Edith’s case, badly fitting jeans) and pants down at the back and were wiggling their bare bums in a row, screaming with laughter. Then Beckie turned and stuck out her tongue.

  Flora looked up.

  Ailish, her arms full of laundry, was standing at the first floor landing window next door, mouth open.

  Flora marched across the grass. ‘Beckie, get inside! Neil! Look at them!’

  Neil blinked.

  ‘Look at them! Girls, pull up your clothes and get inside. All of you, get inside. Now!’

  Ten little faces gaped at her.

  ‘Come on guys, enough is enough,’ said Caroline firmly. ‘Beckie, what were you thinking? That’s unacceptable and you know it.’

  Beckie had gone bright red.

  Neil was blinking, rabbit in the headlights.

  ‘Come on you lot, move it,’ said Caroline, and as she shepherded the kids across the grass towards the open glass doors, Flora let fly at Neil.

  ‘I don’t believe this! Can you not be trusted to supervise the kids for the five seconds I look away because I’m at the end of my tether taking all this on my shoulders because you have abrogated all responsibility? But no, I can’t even have five seconds to cry on someone’s shoulder, someone who actually understands my concerns –’

  ‘And who would that be?’

  ‘Caroline, who else? I’ve asked her to be Beckie’s guardian.’

  Long, tense silence.

  ‘And you never thought to consult me about it?’

  ‘As if you’d be interested!’

  He flung up his hands. ‘How can you say that? Of course I’m interested in anything that affects Beckie, let alone something as important as this!’

  ‘Well, you’ve been doing a very good impression of someone who doesn’t give a fuck!’

  Then she remembered Ailish.

  She was still there, the cow, staring down at them. Childishly, Flora made a face at her and stormed off up the garden.

  Flora and Caroline had just got the kids settled round the table with juice and cake when the doorbell went.

  ‘Neil, can you please get that?’ Flora said tightly. ‘And remember to check the CCTV before you open the door.’

  Too much to hope that it was Selina Wright?

  A few seconds later, Neil called out, his voice higher than usual and odd-sounding: ‘Flora?’

  She hurried out of the room and into the hall.

  In the vestibule – he’d actually let them into the house? – stood Lorraine and Carly Johnson. Neil was holding onto the door between the vestibule and the hall as if for support.

  ‘Get out of here,’ she said. ‘Get out or I’m calling the police.’

  ‘Sorry hen, we know it’s Beckie’s birthday and you’re busy and that, and the last folk you want to see is us, eh? But we just wanted to leave these for Beckie?’ Lorraine Johnson rummaged in the carrier bags she was carrying and lifted out some shiny, nylony material. ‘Wee Elsa and Anna costumes. You dinnae need to say where they came from. But we’d like Beckie to have them, aye?’

  Neil looked round at Flora. ‘Thank you, but –’

  ‘As if we’re going to let Beckie have anything from you!’

  ‘Aye Maw,’ said Carly. ‘Maybe this wasnae such a good idea?’

  The woman just stood there holding the hideous costumes.

  ‘Let’s go, eh?’ The girl put a hand on her mother’s arm. ‘Sorry.’

  Lorraine Johnson looked straight at Flora, sharp little eyes filmed with unshed tears. ‘What that Mair bitch did was terrible so it was, but dinnae you think we had anything to do with what happened to her cos we didnae, we
didnae even know what she did to Beckie till after she was dead and all the shite hit the fan, and I’m no saying I’m no glad the bitch is dead but we didnae touch her. And none of that was down to yous, eh, and we get that, we’re all victims here by the way, and I’m no wanting trouble, we’re gonnae withdraw the complaint about your man here assaulting Carly, it’s no fair on yous, that was down to us so it was.’

  ‘Oh,’ was all Flora could find to say.

  ‘And we’ll no come near yous again and we’ll leave yous and Beckie in peace but I just have to know, right, I just have to fucking know that you love her. You love our wee lassie, aye?’ The tears, now, were dripping down her jowly cheeks and splotching on her thin white top.

  ‘We love her very much indeed,’ said Neil. ‘You can be sure of that.’

  Flora just stared.

  Gently, Neil took the dresses from the woman’s hands. ‘Thank you. Beckie will be thrilled with these.’

  ‘We love her more than anything,’ Flora was finally able to choke out.

  ‘Aye!’ Lorraine half-sobbed, half-wailed, ‘Aye, I know yous do!’

  Carly was bawling too. ‘She’s that lucky to have yous!’

  ‘God, look at me, a right traichy cow!’ Lorraine swiped at her face with her hands. ‘We’re sorry about all the shite. Jed and Travis – they’re no right in the head, eh? But I can promise you this, hen, I can promise you this – they bastards are no gonnae be coming near you and Beckie ever again.’ And she looked straight at Flora, and Flora’s gut lurched and her heart seemed to contract in her chest.

  And the woman reached out a hand and touched the shiny material of one of the dresses Neil was holding, then took her hand away, and drew in a long breath, lifting her chin, facing it.

  Facing her loss.

  Her irrevocable loss.

  Flora swallowed. ‘That – that’s good to know.’

  ‘We’re that sorry,’ sobbed Carly. ‘Yous are decent people.’

  ‘I think you probably are too,’ said Neil quietly.

  ‘Naw, we’re just traichy wee schemies,’ sobbed Lorraine. ‘Beckie’s better off wi’ yous right enough.’ And she waved a hand as if to encompass Neil and Flora, the Victorian tiles of the vestibule, the pretty pictures on the walls, the antique pew, and under it Flora and Neil’s expensive walking boots and comfy slippers lined up neatly next to Beckie’s miniature versions.