by KL Slater
My legs felt restless, in need of a stretch.
I crept out onto the landing and looked in on Evie. She slept peacefully, the whisper of her breath reaching me at the door. I stood for a moment just gazing into space, the strangeness of the new house still prickling at me.
Back in my room, I sat down on the edge of my bed and looked around. I could feel the springs jabbing at the backs of my thighs through the cheap mattress. All my meagre worldly goods were pathetically on display. Black bin bags full of clothes that now hung too loose on me lined the wall at the bottom of the bed. My shoes were piled up in the corner, a couple of coats and a hat draped on top, so that the whole thing resembled Guy Fawkes on a bonfire. Another corner housed a heap of mismatched, greying underwear.
I’d made a start but there was still so much to do. Getting the house organised felt like the craggy shadow of a mountain looming over me.
I climbed back into bed and tried in vain to sleep, but hours later I was still tossing and turning.
Aching.
Hurting.
Since Andrew died, my entire skin felt raw. I had been turned inside out like an old, discarded sock, no longer of use to anyone.
There were times it felt as if I was just killing time until my husband came back. At the old house, I would often pretend he was just away working and would be walking through the door in a couple of days.
The tablets helped me do that. They took the pain, encased it in a thick wad of cotton wool and packed it down, deep inside, where it stopped being a problem for a short time. The painful reality would be held at arm’s length for another long day.
I stood up and headed for the bathroom. It was no use trying to fight it.
Tonight, I was going to need a little help.
16
Three Years Earlier
Evie
She had tried to wake her mummy again and again but she just wouldn’t get up, even though it was way past waking-up time. Evie could tell this by the way the sun was shining in through Mummy’s thin, floral curtains.
In the end, Evie went downstairs on her own.
When they lived in their last house, Mummy had had a job and got dressed early each morning. Her eyes had been brighter then and hardly ever half-closed-sleepy in the daytime.
That had all changed when Daddy went away to be with the angels.
Mummy didn’t have a job anymore and she never used her sparkly eyeshadow now or sprayed on the perfume Evie liked, the one that smelled like a mixture of bubble gum and flowers.
As soon as she got downstairs, Evie got scared that the wasps might be back. She was too afraid to go into the sitting room without Mummy doing her daily wasp check, so she went into the kitchen instead.
The floor felt cold on her feet and there was no TV in here to watch CBeebies on. Evie stood on a chair and pulled the cereal box from the cupboard. There were still no clean dishes, so she wrapped her blankie around her and sat at the table, pulling Frosted Shreddies straight from the packet and popping them into her mouth.
It was lots of fun, pretending to be a grown-up. You could eat cake and biscuits for breakfast and, if you wanted, you didn’t even have to put milk on your cereal, or eat it with a spoon.
Evie took Flopsy Bunny off the table and sat him on the chair beside her.
‘Don’t start,’ she scolded him. ‘You’ll do as I say. You don’t want to upset me, do you?’
Flopsy ignored her. He never cried like Evie sometimes did, when her Mummy got cross.
Evie knew he didn’t like it here in the kitchen because he wanted to watch television.
‘Mummy is TIRED,’ she snapped at the rabbit. ‘For God’s sake, will you stop going ON AND ON?’
She sighed and looked at the heap of dirty dishes piled up in the sink. Sometimes, Mummy forgot things like there being no clean cups or dishes and Evie had to tell her again and again before she remembered.
When she’d eaten enough cereal that her tummy finally stopped rumbling, Evie crept to the living room door and listened. She couldn’t hear any buzzing in there.
She opened the door the tiniest bit – too tiny a gap even for a wasp to slip out and sting her – but all was quiet in there. In a flash of bravado, Evie flung her blanket over her head and rushed over to the couch, snatching up the remote and turning on the TV.
Her eyes flicked wildly around the room and she ran back out, breathless, and slammed the door behind her again. She hadn’t see one single insect but you couldn’t be too careful. The wasps had been very well hidden in the pretty flowers that day. Too well hidden for even Mummy and Nanny to spot.
Plus, Mummy was still sleeping, and if the wasps came back, Evie didn’t know where Mr Ethriz, the exterbinator man, lived. There would be no one to help her.
She shuffled back down the hallway, rubbing her eyes. She scowled at Flopsy Bunny, who watched her steadily from his chair.
‘Don’t you look at me like that.’ She scowled. ‘Like butter wouldn’t melt.’
It was no fun being here in the kitchen where it was cold and quiet and there was nothing to do.
Evie heard a shout and someone laughing outside.
She pressed her nose up to the patterned glass but she couldn’t see anything. Mummy had explained it was because of the oh-pake glass.
A funny yelp and another laugh. It sounded like someone was having fun in the yard. Maybe her nursery friends from Hemel had come to visit.
She bounded upstairs again.
‘Mummy, wake up,’ Evie called, shaking her arm. ‘I want to go outside.’
But Mummy did not stir.
‘Mummy, PLEASE!’ Evie yelled into her ear. ‘You’ve got to wake up NOW.’
Evie stood up and stamped on the bare floorboards. She ran back downstairs and into the kitchen. If her friends thought Evie wasn’t here, they might go back home and she didn’t want that.
The key was in the lock so Evie reached forward and wiggled it. She tried the handle but the door was firmly stuck. She twisted the key this way and that, took it out and then slid it back in. She turned it hard to the left and heard a click. This time when she tried the handle, the door opened. A rush of warm breeze caressed her face and Evie smiled, turning her face up to the sun.
But there was nobody in the yard.
Her smile faded and she sat on the step, tracing a pattern in the dust with her fingertips.
‘Buster, fetch!’ someone called out.
The funny yelp sounded again and a tennis ball arced over the hedge and landed on the grass.
Evie jumped up off the step and ran down towards it in bare feet and pyjamas.
A brown and white ball of fluff barrelled through the hedge and made the yelping noise again and again.
It was a puppy! A real, live puppy.
‘Hello, cutie,’ said a tall man with a spotty face on the other side of the hedge. ‘What’s your name, then?’
17
Three Years Earlier
Toni
My eyelids flipped open. The bedroom was flooded with light. For a few seconds, I didn’t recognise the room or know why I was there.
‘Evie?’ I called, coming to at last. No answer. ‘Evie!’
I pulled on leggings and a T-shirt and rushed downstairs. The TV was on but the living room was empty.
I ran through to the kitchen to find the back door slightly ajar, the key hanging loosely from the lock on the inside.
In places, the sun had broken through the thick cloud covering and now weak shafts of light shone through the opaque glass in the door, illuminating the kitchen flooring in random patches. It felt like mid-morning but there was no clock in here so I couldn’t be sure. How on earth had I slept so long?
‘Evie!’ I yelled as I shoved my feet into the flip-flops by the door and half fell into the tiny yard. I scanned the scrubby grass lawn and the edge of the ugly panelled fence.
I could see immediately that she wasn’t there.
My breathing became erratic. I
just couldn’t seem to suck enough air into my lungs. I leaned heavily on a broken plastic garden chair near the door. One of the damaged legs gave way and I stumbled, twisting my ankle slightly.
I yelped in pain.
‘Mummy!’ Seconds later, a beaming Evie emerged, crawling on all fours, through a hole in the hedge that had been masked by overgrown foliage.
‘What on earth are you doing?’ I rushed towards her. ‘Where have you been?’
‘My fault, sorry.’ The head and shoulders of a tall, skinny young man appeared over the hedge. He grinned, revealing blackened teeth. ‘She wanted to see the new puppy.’
The oldest trick in the book, which every parent in the country warned their kids against.
‘Who are you?’ I snapped. ‘I’ve been looking for her everywhere. I thought—’
‘I’m Colin,’ he said, the grin turning to a frown. ‘Mam said she’d met you the day you moved in, yeah?’
This must be Sal’s eldest son. The convicted criminal.
‘You alright?’ He stared at me with cold eyes. ‘You look like you’re about to pass out any second.’
‘Of course I’m not fu—’ I looked at Evie, who was wide-eyed, taking it all in. I bit back my language. ‘I’m most definitely not alright. I come downstairs and find that a strange man, who I’ve never seen before, has taken my daughter out of the garden without my permission.’
‘Now, just hold on a minute.’ I noted the seamless switch to a more aggressive tone. ‘The kid crawled through the hedge when she heard me playing over this side with our Buster. She’s been out here on her own for bloody ages. More to the point, where have you been?’
‘Evie,’ I called in clipped tones. ‘Inside, now.’
‘Mummy, no! Colin said I can help him feed Buster.’
I bet he did.
‘Inside. NOW!’ I raised my voice.
Infuriatingly, Evie looked at Colin in the hope he might support her pleading.
‘You’d best go inside, flower,’ he told her. ‘Looks like your mam’s about to have a bloody hernia.’
I held out my hand in a gesture of affection to Evie but she stormed past me, back inside the house.
‘It’s NOT FAIR!’ she yelled as she slammed the kitchen door behind her.
I turned and glared at Colin.
‘Lovely little girl you’ve got there, missus,’ he smirked, taking a deep drag on a roll-up. ‘Sweet as sugar, she is.’
When I got inside, I felt grimy just from talking to him. Evie was back in the living room and had closed the door.
‘Evie,’ I said softly, walking in. ‘Don’t ever go out there again on your own without telling me. Do you understand?’
She sat under her ‘wasp shield’, as she now referred to her blanket, and ignored me, staring blankly at the TV. An empty cereal box lay on its side in the middle of the floor, a spoon flung further still. Evie still had on her pyjamas with grass stains on the knees that I could tell would never wash out. Her hair was tousled and loose and dry crumbs had collected at the corners of her mouth.
It was ten thirty. My daughter had probably been up on her own since 7 a.m.
I reached for the remote control and flicked the TV off. The silence reverberated, as if an invisible wall sat between us.
‘Do you understand what Mummy is saying?’ I tried again. ‘You mustn’t go outside on your own like that again, poppet. It’s dangerous.’
‘I tried to tell you, Mummy.’ Evie turned to face me, her eyes wide and glistening. ‘But you were still sleeping and you wouldn’t wake up.’
I clamped my hand over my mouth and closed my eyes. A hot thread of revulsion wrapped itself around my throat like a burning wire.
Who on earth was I turning into?
18
Three Years Earlier
Toni
Monday morning didn’t turn out to be the calm, organised time I’d planned it to be. I felt groggy and out of sorts, even though I hadn’t touched any tablets since the early hours of yesterday.
Evie was still clearly shaken by the wasp attack, aside from the physical discomfort of the still red, scratchy swellings on her arms and face.
‘Can you button up my cardigan please, Mummy?’ she asked in a small voice, her face forlorn.
‘Come on, a big girl like you knows how to button up, don’t you?’ I chided her, tickling under her chin.
‘I want you to do it.’
I’d plaited her blonde wavy hair into two braids. The red and grey uniform suited her, seeming to add a little colour into her pasty cheeks, which were still dotted here and there with the unsightly red blobs.
I buttoned her cardi up and pulled her gently to me and we had a little cuddle, silent in each other’s affection for a few seconds.
Then Evie pulled away and looked at me.
‘Mummy, are you taking me to school today?’
‘Am I taking you to school?’ I repeated with outraged amazement that brought the ghost of a smile to her lips. ‘OF COURSE I’m taking you to school, silly munchkin. I wouldn’t miss that for all the tea in China.’
I tickled her belly and waited for the throaty giggle I loved so much. But Evie stepped away from my wriggling fingers, edgy and wary. Her face grew solemn again.
‘Are you picking me up from school, too?’
I swear to God my daughter had an overdeveloped sixth sense. She could invariably pick up vibes from whatever was laying heavy on my heart at any given time of the day. Even when I thought I’d done a pretty good job of covering up the cracks.
‘Are you?’ she demanded.
‘No, because Nanny is picking you up from school, isn’t she? If you remember—’
‘No!’
Mum had already called Evie on my phone this morning to wish her luck and to tell her she’d be seeing her at the end of school.
‘Evie, don’t start. Nanny wants to pick you up and hear all about your day. You don’t want to upset her now, do you?’ I felt rotten even as I said it. What kind of mother tries to silence a five-year-old with emotional blackmail? But I had to do something to stop the threatened tantrum I could feel hovering like an imminent storm.
‘But I want you to pick me up on my first day, Mummy.’ Her big blue eyes shone, pleading with me. Her bottom lip wobbled. ‘Pleeease?’
I pinched the bridge of my nose and took a deep breath in.
Why did it feel like life always conspired to make parenting so damn difficult? Of all the days for me to get an interview for the job, it had to be this one.
It had all happened so quickly from me submitting my application, I could never have reasonably anticipated problems with Evie’s first day at big school.
‘Mummy, please?’ Evie whined again, sensing weakness.
* * *
In the afternoon, after a sandwich and a quick shower, I dressed for the interview in my smart Ted Baker navy trouser suit and white blouse.
The outfit was now a few fashion seasons old but it still looked the part. Better than my custom leggings and T-shirt, at least.
I wondered if I’d ever be in a financial position that allowed me to shop for clothes at Ted Baker again.
It was clear I’d lost a bit of weight since I bought it a couple of years ago. Obviously, I’d noticed my clothes getting looser, but after I finished work, there was no need to dress for the office and I started to live in ‘loungewear’ – a nicer sounding word than ‘scruffs’ or ‘comfies’. Clothes that felt the same, whatever your weight.
Losing weight through grief led to a scrawny, malnourished body. There had been no celebratory buying of new clothes when I’d dropped two dress sizes.
I stood in front of the wardrobe and scrutinized my image in the long mirror fixed to the inside door. I suppose I didn’t look too bad, considering.
The jacket hung a little big on my shoulders and I could have done with a belt for the trousers. Luckily, as we were both a size six, Mum had been able to loan me a pair of M&S black court shoes, av
oiding another unnecessary expense.
I pulled my shoulders back a bit and stood a little taller. I smiled widely at myself in the mirror to check I had nothing unsightly stuck in my teeth.
I’d already gotten out of the habit of wearing make-up. There really wasn’t any need, stuck in the house most days. But today I’d used a bit of mascara and a pale pink lipstick I’d found at the bottom of my handbag. A dusting of bronzer and a slick of clear gloss on top of the lip colour and I looked fairly presentable.
I patted my chestnut brown hair, neat in its French roll that I’d pinned and sprayed to within an inch of its life. We’d not been able to afford a holiday again this year but my hair had a few natural highlights, pretty glimmers of gold harvested from hours spent with Evie in our old garden, where I would snatch reading time as she splashed in her small inflatable pool with one or more of her little friends from nursery school.
Confidence. That’s what I needed to exude today.
I’d certainly lost all of the managerial demeanour I used to possess, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
I intended to play down my previous work history as much as I could in the interview anyway. The last thing I wanted was to put them off because they thought they’d be employing a know-all done-it-all.
I checked I had everything in my handbag before I left, including two glowing references from the directors of the previous company I’d worked for, and headed out of the house.
It was cloudy but warm outside and I slipped my jacket off before getting into the car. I’d been unable to get Evie’s pleading voice out of my head all morning, begging me to pick her up from school. ‘Please, Mummy, please.’ It echoed again at me now.
In the end, she’d gone into school quite happily, which had been a massive relief. There were lots of teachers on hand to take the new Primary-year-one children from reluctant parental hands on their first day.