Copycat

by Alex Lake

  ‘I stood up,’ Jean went on, ‘and was starting to rub his shoulders, loosen them up – they were very tense, he’s more muscular than I expected – when Faye woke up. He had to go and put her back to bed.’ Jean sniffed. ‘It was a shame we were interrupted.’ She leaned forward. ‘But it was a good start, Sarah. A very good start. This will be quicker than I thought.’

  She turned to leave.

  ‘Anyway,’ she said. ‘I’ll keep you informed of my progress. And you might want to make sure you take a look at the food and water. Lights out in a second. You need to remember where they are.’

  And then she was gone.

  17

  ‘How are they taking it?’

  Diana, Ben’s mother, sat in the front seat of the car, her hands resting in her lap. She had a pained expression on her face. Ben had noticed the way she winced when she bent to climb in, and if he knew his mother at all, that was a sure sign she was in agony.

  He’d told her she needn’t come, but she’d insisted. He’d asked about flight restrictions for people in her condition; she said she neither knew of any nor cared to know. How, she asked, would the airline know unless she told them, which she had no intention of doing?

  ‘Not great,’ Ben said. They were with Jean, Daniel and Paul while he came to the airport to pick up his mum and dad. It was only an hour round-trip, but even then he didn’t feel comfortable leaving them. Miles had hardly spoken since he’d told him Sarah was dead – he hadn’t mentioned suicide, not yet. He’d stuck at Mom got sick – and Faye alternated between tears and outbursts of violent, uncontrollable rage. It wasn’t necessarily aimed at him or Sarah; it could be anything. A lost toy, a ripped page in a book, food she didn’t like: all of them could send her spiraling into a fierce anger.

  It was going to be a rough road.

  ‘It’s to be expected,’ his dad said, from the back seat. ‘It’s a terrible loss for them. For all of you.’

  Ben pulled out of the airport and headed for the Freeway. ‘I can’t quite believe it,’ he said. ‘I wake up every day and remember. It hits me like it’s the first time I’ve heard about it. And I can’t believe I didn’t see it coming. I should have done something.’

  ‘I’m sorry, darling,’ his mum said. ‘It’s tragic, it really is. But it’s not your fault. Suicide is so terrible because the victim isn’t the person who dies. It’s the ones they leave behind.’

  And that, Ben thought, is the worst thing about it. I can’t believe she did this. And I can’t stop hating her for it.

  At home he pulled into the driveway. He walked around the car to open the passenger-side door. He put his hand around his mum’s waist and helped her out. He felt the bones in her hips; she’d lost a lot of weight. He hadn’t realized – she had dressed in such a way it didn’t show – and it was a shock to realize how ill she was.

  The front door opened and Jean stepped out. She walked down the steps.

  ‘Mrs Havenant,’ she said. ‘So lovely to see you again. I only wish it was in better circumstances.’

  His mum stumbled; Ben caught her. She was pale, her eyes wide open. She nodded, barely seeming to notice Jean, then took a step past her into the house.

  ‘Are you OK?’ he said.

  ‘I need to sit down,’ she said. She looked at Ben. ‘Would you be a darling and put the kettle on?’

  Ben nodded. ‘Let’s get you settled,’ he said, and helped her to the kitchen. He sat her on the couch and went to fill the kettle. His dad came and stood by him.

  ‘Can I help?’ he said.

  ‘It’s OK,’ Ben said. ‘You take a seat.’

  A few seconds later, Jean came in. ‘Thanks for taking care of the kids,’ Ben said. ‘Where are they?’

  ‘In the basement,’ she said. ‘Best place for them!’ She had an odd, almost mocking, smile on her face; probably, Ben thought, she was uncomfortable at seeing how frail Diana was.

  ‘OK. I’ll get Mum her tea and then I’ll bring them up.’

  As soon as he saw Miles’s face, Ben worried he’d made a mistake letting his parents come to stay. He was fine with his granddad, greeting him with a hug as usual. He and his granddad had always been close, partly because Roger had always shown him a lot of physical affection, which was not how he had been with Ben and his brother. Like a lot of men of his generation he had not grown up in a world in which men hugged each other, their kids, even their wives. They didn’t even really admit to any emotion; the most he could remember from his dad was an occasional, That was a bit irritating or I have to say, I was quite put out, both of which could be the reaction to someone stealing his place in a queue or burning down the family home. It wasn’t so much Keep Calm and Carry On as Keep Calm and Mutter About Your Mild Displeasure.

  It was Miles’s reaction to Diana which was the problem.

  He had just lost his mother, and here was his grandma, reduced to little more than a skeleton. He turned and glared at Ben, then walked out of the room. They listened to his footsteps climb the stairs.

  ‘Damn,’ Ben said.

  Diana watched him leave. She put her hands on the arms of the couch and levered herself to her feet.

  ‘Stay put,’ Roger said. ‘I’ll go and talk to him.’

  ‘What are you going to say?’ Ben said. ‘I think it might be better if I go.’

  ‘It’s OK,’ Roger said. ‘I’ll tell him the truth. There’s no easy way around this.’

  When he was gone, Jean came into the kitchen with Daniel and Paul.

  ‘I’ll be on my way,’ she said. ‘I need to get these two fed.’ She put her hand on his upper arm and squeezed. ‘You’re lucky to have such wonderful parents,’ she said. ‘They’ll be great support. This’ll be hard. But we’ll get through it.’

  Ben put his hand over hers. ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘And I appreciate your help. I’d be nowhere without you.’

  Jean smiled, and then looked at Diana.

  ‘Goodbye, Mrs Havenant,’ she said. ‘It’s lovely to see you. And I hope you enjoy your stay. As much as you can, in the circumstances.’

  Diana looked at her, unsmiling, her hands palm down on her knees.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, finally. ‘I will try to.’ She paused. ‘And no doubt we’ll have other opportunities to chat. I suspect we’ll be seeing plenty of you.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Jean said. ‘I’m always happy to help. Let me know what you need.’ She gestured to Daniel and Paul. ‘Time to go,’ she said. ‘Say goodbye to Ben and Mrs Havenant.’

  Daniel and Paul waved shyly, and Jean led them to the front door. Ben followed them. He thanked Jean again, then closed the door behind them.

  Back in the kitchen he poured another cup of tea for Diana. He handed it to her.

  ‘The doctor doesn’t recommend drinking tea,’ she said. ‘But I don’t see how it makes a blind bit of difference. I’m past the worrying stage now.’

  ‘How bad is it?’ Ben said.

  ‘A bit worse than it was when you were in England. More painful. But I’ll cope.’ She flicked a finger in the direction of the front door. ‘That’s Jean, correct?’ she said. ‘Sarah’s friend?’

  ‘Yes. She’s been great.’

  ‘Are you close to her?’

  ‘Sarah was. I am too, at least in the way you’re close to your spouse’s friends.’

  ‘I’m not sure I know that way,’ Diana said. ‘I’m not sure anyone does.’

  Ben shrugged. ‘I dunno,’ he said. ‘But it is what it is.’

  ‘Dunno?’ Diana said. She smiled. ‘You know, there was a time when that would have really irritated me. But those days are long gone. There are more important things to worry about. I only wish I’d learned it earlier.’ She shook her head. ‘All the energy I used being angry at such things. If I’d channeled it into something else – Christ, I could have moved mountains. So don’t make the same mistake I did. Focus on what matters.’

  Ben felt tears on his cheeks. He bent over and kissed her.

 
‘It’s OK, Mum,’ he said. ‘I love you. I always have done.’

  When he stood up, she was crying too.

  18

  Jean held a bottle of water in one hand. It was unopened and Sarah couldn’t take her eyes off of it; since Jean’s last visit she had been consumed by a violent, raging thirst. Her throat was dry and her tongue was large and swollen. She had a deep, throbbing headache.

  ‘Water,’ she said, gesturing at the bottle. ‘Jean. Water, please.’

  Jean ignored her. In the other hand she had a cigarette; it was the second she had smoked since she had come into the shelter. She was pacing the room, sucking down the smoke and shaking her head.

  ‘What a bitch,’ she said. ‘What a fucking bitch your mother-in-law is. I can’t believe you tolerated her.’

  ‘What did she do?’ Sarah said. Jean had been repeating what a bitch Ben’s mom was since coming into the room; Sarah wanted to get her talking so they could move off the topic and she could get her hands on the water.

  Jean paused and turned to face her. ‘She walked right past me,’ she said. ‘I was waiting at the house with the kids and she got out of the car and walked right fucking past me. Like I wasn’t there.’ She shook her head. ‘Arrogant, stuck-up British bitch.’

  ‘She can be a bit much,’ Sarah said. It was an effort to speak, the words rasping out of her parched mouth. ‘You know she’s ill. Maybe she was tired after the trip.’

  ‘Doesn’t fucking excuse it,’ Jean said. ‘And then, when we were in the house she was just as bad. Made some fucking comment about I imagine we’ll be seeing lots of you. Like I’m forcing myself on them. She’s evil. Evil. I can tell she doesn’t like me.’

  She’s always been a good judge of character, Sarah thought. Plus it’s a little ironic you’re telling me – the woman you’ve locked in your basement before killing – that my mother-in-law is evil.

  She said nothing though; Jean did not look in the mood to be contradicted.

  ‘The good thing,’ Jean went on, ‘is she’ll soon be dead. Dead and in the cold, hard ground back in England. A place I fucking hated, by the way. Small and petty and full of people who pretend to be nice to you when you can tell they’re looking down on you.’

  This feeling of people condescending to her was at the heart of Jean’s anger, Sarah saw. She hated being ignored or overlooked, as with the matchmaking.

  Jean contemplated her for a few seconds. ‘Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. What matters is, Diana will be gone soon. And Ben will be all the more vulnerable for it. From the way she looks, it could happen any time.’ She took a drag on the cigarette; the end glowed in the darkness. ‘I wonder if there’s any way I could help her along. Some kind of drug I could put in her tea? It can’t leave a trace. You’d know. What could I do to the bitch?’

  Sarah tried to swallow but she could not produce enough saliva. ‘I don’t think I can help you,’ she said. ‘I can’t think of anything. Nothing easily available.’

  ‘Right,’ Jean said, her voice heavy with sarcasm. She shook her head. ‘Of course you can’t. Then maybe I’ll use bleach. Kill the bitch that way.’ She started to pace again. ‘You know,’ she said. ‘When I look at her, I see you. She’s you, thirty years from now. Rich, arrogant, a fucking know-it-all who got everything given to her but doesn’t realize it. I’m sparing the world from having to deal with another Diana by killing you. And I’m sparing Ben and Miles and Faye and Kim.’ She nodded. ‘Yes. This is a mercy killing. Mercy for them.’

  Sarah didn’t care. A new wave of thirst had rolled over her and all she could think of was the water. She watched the bottle swing in Jean’s hand.

  ‘Jean,’ she said. ‘The water. Could I have some? I’m really thirsty.’

  Jean turned to face her.

  ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘So now you need my help. You won’t help me. You won’t tell me what I could use to kill your fucking British bitch of a mother-in-law, but I have to give you what you want.’ She leaned forward. ‘That’s exactly what I hate about you, Sarah. The fact you think you can get whatever you want but you don’t have to do anything in return. Well, you can go fuck yourself.’

  She lifted the cigarette to her mouth and took a deep drag, then blew the smoke out in a large cloud. She pressed the glowing end of the butt to the bottle and pushed.

  The plastic melted and, with a fizz, the cigarette went out. Jean tossed it on to the basement floor and held the bottle in her hand. The water streamed out on to the floor.

  ‘No,’ Sarah said. ‘Please, Jean, no.’

  Jean dropped the bottle.’

  ‘Lick it up,’ she said. ‘Like the dog you are.’

  Then she left, closing the door behind her.

  On her hands and knees, Sarah scrambled forward as far as she could. She felt ahead of her in the darkness for the pool of water. It was rapidly seeping into the concrete. She tried to brush it closer to her mouth, but all she managed to do was disperse it.

  Desperate, she lifted her hands to her mouth and licked what little moisture there was off them; it tasted dusty, but at least her mouth was wet for a few moments.

  And then she lay down, her forehead on the concrete floor, and cried.

  19

  Ben opened the front door. Jean was standing outside with Daniel and Paul. She was holding a crockpot; Daniel had a tub of ice cream and Paul was cradling a packet of cookies.

  ‘Mac ’n’ cheese,’ she said. ‘Comfort food.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Ben said. ‘Hopefully, Miles and Faye will eat it. They’ve barely touched any food for days.’

  And food wasn’t the only problem. Faye was still waking at night in tears and Miles was, if anything, even more withdrawn. He looked gaunt, and ill.

  ‘Where are they?’ Jean said.

  ‘Watching TV,’ Ben replied. ‘They’ve been watching it a lot. I don’t have the heart to try and stop them. Whatever takes their mind off Sarah is OK by me, I guess.’

  ‘Can we watch?’ Daniel said. His gaze fluttered up to meet Ben’s, but then he looked back at the ground. He’d always been shy, as long as Ben had known him; painfully shy, Sarah used to say. Not that there was anything wrong with shyness, but in the case of Daniel – and his brother Paul – their shyness was almost fear. It was hard not to feel some sympathy for them.

  ‘Of course,’ Ben said. ‘You go right in there.’

  Ben walked over to the TV room and opened the door. He knew from prior experience that if he didn’t Daniel and Paul would stand outside, waiting to be invited in.

  Once they were settled he followed Jean into the kitchen. She was setting the crockpot down on the counter and smiled at Roger.

  ‘Hello, Mr Havenant,’ she said. ‘An American classic. Mac ’n’ cheese.’

  ‘Sounds delicious,’ Roger said.

  ‘It’s pretty basic,’ Jean replied. ‘But the kids tend to like it.’

  ‘I’m sure they’ll love it,’ Ben’s dad replied. ‘Thank you for making it. Someone has made food for us every night this week. It’s very nice to feel like the community is lending their support.’

  ‘Jean organized it, Dad,’ Ben said. ‘It’s called a Meal Train.’

  ‘Well, it’s very welcome. Thank you, Jean.’

  ‘It’s my pleasure.’ Jean looked at Ben. ‘Do you want to eat now? Or wait?’

  ‘I think the kids are quite settled,’ Ben said. ‘Maybe leave them for a while?’

  ‘OK.’ Jean took the lid off the pot and stirred the contents. ‘We could go for a walk. It’s a lovely evening.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Ben said. He hadn’t been out of the house or away from the kids since he’d picked up his parents from the airport. ‘I’m not sure about leaving the children.’

  ‘I’m here,’ Roger said. ‘And your mother’s upstairs with Kim. We’ll be fine. You go.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Ben said. ‘I’m happy to stay.’

  Roger nodded. ‘Go, Ben. Your mum and I have done it before, remember?’


  Yes, Ben thought. But she was in somewhat better health then.

  ‘Go on,’ Roger said. ‘Get some fresh air. You’ll feel a lot better.’

  ‘Right,’ Ben said. ‘Thanks.’

  They walked to the Town Commons, a series of trails leading through a pine forest. Shafts of light shone down through the trees and Ben felt the warmth of the sun on his face. He inhaled the scent of the pines and it reminded him there was pleasure in the world.

  ‘Thanks, Jean,’ he said. ‘It’s good to be outside.’

  ‘How are you feeling?’ she replied. ‘You doing OK?’

  ‘I’m mainly focused on the kids,’ he said. ‘I spend most of my time worrying about them. When I don’t I swing between disbelief she actually went ahead and did this, anger at her, and guilt I didn’t find a way to stop it. That’s the worst part. The feeling I’m to blame somehow.’ Tears welled in his eyes. ‘And I miss her. A lot.’

  Jean walked beside him. ‘I feel the same,’ she said. ‘I should have seen this coming. I think everyone who knows her will feel the same.’ She linked her arm through his. ‘I feel bad saying it, and I know it’s probably not my place, but it’s so damn selfish.’

  For a moment Ben felt like telling her not to speak that way about Sarah, but he didn’t. It was selfish, and Jean had as much right to be angry at Sarah as anyone did.

  ‘Don’t feel bad,’ he said. ‘You’re only telling the truth.’ He pulled her closer. ‘And you can say whatever you want. You’re the only other person who really knows how this feels. We’re going to have to get through this together.’

  Jean unlinked her arm from his and stopped. She turned to face him, then opened her arms and hugged him.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I needed to hear that.’

  He hugged her back; it felt good to have some human contact. ‘It’s good to talk,’ he said. ‘I feel better for this. We should make sure we do it more often.’

  ‘Deal,’ Jean said. ‘Anytime you want.’