The Space Between Us

by Anna McPartlin

  The list was made and Lily was heading up the stairs to change into something suitable to wear outdoors when the bell rang. She answered, and it was Rachel from across the road. Rachel’s face was frozen and she had a wild look in her eyes.

  ‘Rachel?’

  Rachel seemed to find her voice – she screamed straight into Lily’s face.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  She screamed louder.

  ‘Rachel, talk to me!’

  She screamed even louder.

  Lily shook her. ‘Rachel!’

  The screaming was now so high-pitched that Lily could imagine random dogs around the country perking up their ears and Forrest Gumping their way towards their cul-de-sac.

  Rachel turned, pointed and ran, still screaming, so Lily followed her to her house and there she found Nancy, Rachel’s five-year-old daughter, lying on the patio in the backyard with an arrow sticking straight out of her eye. Rachel’s scream seemed to increase by another full decibel, threatening to pierce all ears present.

  ‘Rachel. Shut up. Do you hear me? Shut up.’ Lily made a closing gesture with her hand.

  Rachel stopped screaming. Instead she pointed to her daughter, who was starting to move a little.

  ‘Well done. Now stay like that.’ Lily put her fingers to her lips and Rachel nodded. Lily turned to Nancy. ‘Hi, Nancy.’

  ‘Hi, Lily, I think I have something in my eye,’ the child said. She raised her hand to try to pull the arrow out.

  Lily caught the hand in time to stop her, but she couldn’t save Rachel: she passed out cold and hit her head on a plant pot.

  ‘Oh, fudge cake!’ Lily exclaimed. ‘OK, Nancy, look at Lily.’

  She didn’t know how far the arrow had gone inside the child’s head or if it had penetrated her brain. Nancy was talking and alert, which was positive. She wrestled with Lily, trying to free her hands so that she could take the arrow out.

  ‘You can’t do that, baby. Look at Lily. You cannot pull out the arrow. If you do you will blind yourself and you don’t want to do that. OK?’

  Nancy nodded.

  ‘Are you with me, Nancy?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Do you feel pain?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Good girl. Now, I need to look at your mother and then I’m going to call an ambulance but you have to stay lying down exactly as you are. OK?’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘You must not touch the arrow. OK?’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘Good girl. You’re the best and bravest girl. Lily’s here and I’m not leaving you. OK?’

  ‘OK.’

  Lily got up and went to Rachel, who was still out cold. Still watching Nancy, she placed her hand on Rachel’s forehead and called to her. Her airway wasn’t constricted but the back of her head was bleeding profusely. When Rachel came round, Lily kept her hand on her forehead and gently held her down. ‘Rachel. Don’t move. You’ve hit your head. Your breathing and colour are good. Do you feel any numbness?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘That’s good too. I want you to stay where you are just in case, so don’t move. OK.’

  ‘OK.’ Rachel grabbed Lily’s hand. ‘Nancy?’

  ‘She’ll be fine. Stay there.’

  Lily ran to the house and grabbed the phone. Then she picked up a clean tea-towel and ran back outside. Both her patients were immobile. She phoned an ambulance, then wrapped the tea-towel tightly around Rachel’s head. It was the best she could do in difficult circumstances. The two paramedics loaded Nancy and Rachel on board, but when Lily didn’t get in with them, Nancy started to scream. She wanted her there. She reached out her hand and begged, ‘Please, Lily, please, Lily, please, don’t leave me!’

  Lily looked down at her greyish-black leggings, the Ally McBeal T-shirt, the horrible housecoat and fluffy slippers. ‘Fudge cake,’ she said. She couldn’t say no to a child with a ruddy arrow in her eye so she jumped aboard with no phone, a full shop to do and an entire week’s worth of meals to cook.

  Fudge cake was something Lily said instead of fuck, which she found quite aggressive and unnecessary. She sometimes said fudging. Every now and again she told someone that they could shine up their buttons with Brasso, emphasizing shine, buttons and Brasso in such a way that the statement became quite menacing. She also liked bugger or bugger-balls and sometimes she added a side of fries.

  In the ambulance Rachel was clearly concussed. She was confused and babbling about leaving the keys in the car and asking Lily if she’d put the shopping away.

  ‘Yes, you put it away.’

  ‘Good, it’s important to put the shopping away because Nero will eat everything in sight. Did you put the shopping away?’

  ‘It’s all in the presses.’

  ‘Good, because there’s a lot of frozen food there. Did you put the shopping away?’ she asked the paramedic.

  ‘Yip. It’s all away, chicken.’

  ‘Good. The last time Nero ate two M&S goat’s-cheese tarts, half a packet of chocolate digestives and a roast duck. For days afterwards his farts would knock you sideways. Jim threw up. Did I put the shopping away?’

  ‘All put away.’

  When the paramedics had finished setting Nancy up, Lily held her hand and told the scared, sleepy little girl a story about a princess and a dragon. She was halfway through the story when Nancy asked where her eight-year-old brother Dylan was.

  ‘I don’t know, sweetheart. He wasn’t at home.’

  ‘Yes, he was. He’s hiding down the garden.’

  ‘Why would he do that?’

  ‘Because he hit me in the eye with a bow and arrow.’

  ‘Bugger-balls and a side of flaming fries!’

  Rachel was too busy throwing up to react. They got to the hospital where Nancy was taken one way and Rachel the other. Lily went up to the third floor and found her friend Marion in the corridor wheeling the medicine trolley.

  ‘What are you doing here? Thought you weren’t in till tomorrow?’ she said, taking in Lily’s strange attire.

  ‘I’m not. There’s been an accident in a neighbour’s place. A little girl and her mother. I need to use the phone.’

  ‘I hope they’re OK,’ Marion said, and pottered away.

  Lily phoned home. There was no answer so she phoned Scott’s mobile. It rang out twice before he picked up.

  ‘God, Mum. What?’

  ‘Don’t you dare what me – and pick up your fudging phone when I call you! There’s been an accident in Rachel’s and I need you to go across the road and hike over the wall into the back garden.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m in the hospital with Rachel and Nancy. Dylan is hiding somewhere in the back garden.’

  ‘So what am I supposed to do?’

  ‘First, find him. The back door is on the latch. Bring him through the house or unlock the side gate and go out that way. Tell him his mother and sister will be fine and bring him to our place.’

  ‘OK. But, Mum – are they OK?’

  ‘Well, Rachel has a concussion and Nancy has an arrow in her eye.’

  ‘Wow!’

  ‘Yeah, wow. I have to go.’

  ‘And, Mum?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘What’s happening about dinner?’

  ‘Don’t annoy me, Scott.’

  Lily sat with Rachel while Nancy was in surgery. Rachel received three staples to the back of her head. She was being observed for a brain injury but she was feeling a good deal better.

  ‘Thank you so much, Lily. I’m so sorry I lost it.’

  ‘No problem.’

  She started to cry. ‘Do you think she’ll lose the eye?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Lily said honestly. In an attempt to lighten the moment, she added, ‘But what’s an eye between friends?’

  Rachel wasn’t listening. ‘Oh, God almighty! Dylan!’

  ‘It’s OK – he’s in my house with Scott and Daisy.’

  ‘He didn’t mean it.’

  �
��I know.’

  ‘I’m going to kill Jim. I told him not to buy a bow and arrow for an eight-year-old. He might as well have brought a gun into the house. I swear to God I’m going to get that bow and arrow and shove it so far up his arse he –’

  The doctor treating her came in. Lily knew his face but couldn’t put a name to it. He was just some kid out of college. He asked Rachel if it would be all right to examine her, and Lily went to check up on Nancy. She looked at the wall clock and registered that it was after four. She hadn’t noticed time passing and she had so much to do. She walked into her husband’s office and was leaving a message on his notepad about dinner when he came in.

  ‘What the hell are you doing here dressed like that?’

  ‘Well, that’s a nice greeting!’

  ‘You’re wearing a pair of bunnies on your feet, that T-shirt is a disgrace and we both know you’re far too skinny to wear leggings anywhere outside the house. In fact, I’d prefer it if you didn’t wear them in the house, but I suppose that’s an argument I lost years ago.’

  ‘You know, Declan, sometimes I think you belong in a nuthouse. Did you consider for a second why I might be here dressed like this?’

  Clearly he hadn’t. His colour changed. He didn’t say a word. He just waited for Lily to spit it out. She thought about letting him suffer but decided it was too cruel. As soon as he understood that a neighbour and her child had brought his wife to the hospital in that state he lost interest. She tried to talk to him about Nancy’s eye but he reminded her that he was a heart man.

  ‘You’re more dick than heart surely, darling,’ she said, smiling at him benignly.

  ‘Not in the humour for your attempts to be funny.’ Then he looked at his watch and said he hoped she’d managed to get to the shops. He’d been looking forward to chicken cacciatore all day.

  ‘You are joking.’

  ‘I never joke about dinner,’ he said.

  ‘Declan.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Why don’t you go and shine up your buttons with Brasso?’

  ‘Will do as soon as you go home and make my dinner,’ he said.

  She stood there.

  ‘Seven thirty sharp,’ he added.

  He fixed his tie and eyed her before sitting down at his desk. He shook his head slowly, showing silent disapproval. He opened a file, which was Lily’s cue to leave.

  She walked out simmering because she had had the misfortune to marry an ignorant pig. She was so annoyed that she walked straight into Adam Wallace. He was the orthopaedic surgeon who worked on Lily’s ward. He held her out in front of him and beamed at her. ‘Lily, you never fail to dazzle me.’

  ‘Ha-ha.’

  ‘What’s your story?’

  She told him about Rachel and Nancy and, unlike her husband, he seemed concerned.

  ‘I was going to get a coffee, join me,’ he said.

  It was at that point she realized she was light-headed from lack of food so she agreed. He drank his coffee, she tucked into a croissant and they talked about Nancy’s injury and the possible prognosis. He complimented her on her quick thinking, which embarrassed her because she’d done nothing, really. They chatted until she realized time was ticking by and she had to check on Rachel before she went to the supermarket. Then she remembered what she was wearing. ‘I can’t go to the supermarket like this.’

  ‘You look great.’

  ‘That’s a very kind lie.’

  He laughed. ‘A million women would kill to look like you do.’

  ‘Just a million? I must be losing my touch.’

  She walked away, smiling. Kind, sweet, sad Adam always cheered her up.

  Nancy still wasn’t out of surgery but Jim was with Rachel. It was clear he’d just had the face chewed off him. He looked contrite and terrified. Lily felt sorry for him. She hugged him, ignoring Rachel’s glare. She said she had to go home and make dinner. If they wanted her to keep Dylan that night she’d be more than happy to. She asked Jim to call her as soon as Nancy came out of surgery and he promised he would.

  She ran around Tesco like a hare. Luckily she didn’t meet anyone she knew and, apart from the odd raised eyebrow here and there, no one seemed to notice her ridiculous garb.

  It was after six when she made it home. Chicken cacciatore took between forty and fifty-five minutes to cook, never mind prepare, so she was hopeful that her inconsiderate husband would be late. Dylan started crying when he saw Lily so she hugged him tight, took him into the kitchen and told him about the cool staples in his mother’s head.

  ‘Oh,’ he said, with a trembling lip, ‘she won’t like that.’

  ‘Are you kidding me? How many people do you know with staples in their head?’

  ‘None,’ he said.

  ‘Exactly,’ she said. ‘That’s what makes it cool.’

  He was eight, and eight-year-olds weren’t as gullible as they had been when Lily was his age. He wasn’t buying the cool-staples line.

  ‘OK, so guess who’s in trouble?’ she said.

  ‘Me,’ he said, about to cry.

  ‘Nope,’ she said, shaking her head.

  ‘Who, then?’

  ‘Your dad.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because he bought the bow and arrow.’

  ‘Oh. Is he in big trouble?’ His tone suggested he hoped the answer would be positive.

  ‘Oh, yes.’

  ‘Thanks, Lily,’ he said, with a grin that told her he had cheered up considerably. He ran off to join Daisy and her friend Tess in the sitting room where they were watching TV.

  Lily prepared the chicken cacciatore in record time. When it was in the oven she showered and changed for dinner. Declan liked her to change for dinner – he was old-fashioned that way. The kids were due to eat at six so by six forty-five they were starving. They always ate half an hour to an hour before their father and mostly they had a different menu but that night, due to time restrictions, they were all having the same thing.

  ‘Ah, I hate chicken cacciatore!’ Daisy grumbled. She plonked herself down at the table.

  Tess sat in beside her, opposite Scott and Dylan, who were already eating.

  ‘You do not hate it,’ said Lily. ‘You loved it as a baby.’

  ‘Seriously, Mum. I’m twelve, not a moron.’

  ‘Yeah, well, shove it down your neck or starve.’

  Scott wolfed it, burped, said thanks and got up.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Lily asked.

  ‘Do you really want to know?’

  ‘I do now.’

  ‘It involves nudity,’ he said, chuckling.

  ‘Get out,’ she said, and when he’d gone she allowed herself a smile.

  Dylan loved Lily’s chicken cacciatore. ‘Yum,’ he kept saying. ‘I wish you lived at our house.’

  I wish I lived there too.

  Tess was a huge fan of Lily’s cooking. She often came for dinner because her mother worked late and her father had been off the scene for years. Lily took special care of her and always included Tess in everything the family did, so much so that even Daisy noticed and commented on it.

  ‘Why is Tess coming to France with us?’ she’d asked, the first year they took Tess away with them.

  ‘Don’t you want her?’ Lily asked.

  ‘Of course I do, but why is she coming?’

  ‘Because she’s your friend.’

  ‘Cool! Can Josh, Cedric and Ethan come?’ Scott said.

  ‘No.’

  ‘OK, just Josh.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not? How come Tess gets to?’

  ‘Because I said so.’

  ‘So unfair,’ he said, and walked out, slamming the door. It was unfair – but life was unfair, and nobody understood that better than Lily.

  It was nice to have some grateful children in the house.

  ‘Thanks so much, Lily. It was really lovely,’ Tess said.

  ‘You’re welcome, sweetheart. How about you, Daisy?’

 
‘I’m shoving it down, amn’t I?’

  ‘Yes, my angel, you are,’ Lily said. Tess and Dylan laughed.

  Declan arrived home at seven thirty. He was tired and grumpy because he had been delayed. He sat at the table and she served their dinner. ‘I only have an hour. I have to go back to the hospital to check on a patient.’

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘You look nice,’ he said.

  ‘Thank you.’ Eat me.

  ‘Is that new?’

  ‘No.’ Yes.

  ‘I don’t remember seeing it before.’

  ‘Really? Maybe you’re suffering from early-onset dementia.’ Fingers crossed.

  He smiled. ‘Oh, you’re a riot today.’

  He ate and left.

  Lily cleaned up and put the plates into the dishwasher. What a knob. It’s not like this dress is coming out of your bank account, you tight bastard.

  Lily and Declan had never shared a bank account – well, except when she was the sole earner. Lodged in Lily’s account were her nurse’s wages and the children’s allowance and lodged in Declan’s was the salary of a top heart surgeon. He paid the mortgage and utility bills, and she paid for the groceries, her needs and those of the children. Lily’s kids had expensive tastes and for them she always tried to buy nothing but the best. When it came to shopping for herself, she went to second-hand designer stores or bought material. She might not have been a designer but she was handy with a sewing machine. The black dress was a recent purchase in an actual high-street shop. It was going out of business and, at 70 per cent off, everything had been priced to sell. She’d treated herself after a particularly brutal day and she wasn’t going to let her husband, who had his suits custom-made by Louis Copeland, berate her for spending money on herself that should have gone on the kids. ‘Well, don’t come crying to me when Scott wants new trainers,’ he would say.

  ‘God, no, of course not. After all, you’re only his father.’

  ‘I’ve told you before, Lily, if you want to live off me give up your job.’

  The conversation would descend into a row about the twice in twenty years when his dinner had been late to the table or why it was important for her to continue working, which would lead into an uncomfortable conversation about her need to be all things to all people and why she felt she had to flirt her way through life. This conversation would invariably end with him insulting her.