Lost Innocence

by Susan Lewis

  She shrugged in a way that seemed to sharpen her hostility and bring up more barriers than ever.

  ‘There were a lot of things going on at the time,’ he said carefully.

  ‘Yeah, fine, I know. Anyway, I’ve got to ring Georgie. I said I would at twelve o’clock and it’s already ten past.’

  As she pressed in the number, Robert fixed his eyes on the road ahead, aware of the old bitterness and hurt travelling along in their wake. That damned affair was like a ghost, sometimes disappearing, but then returning often as clear and cruel as if it was still going on. At the time it had all but crushed him – worse still had been watching his wife suffering so wretchedly over another man. These days he was more able to detach from his emotions when the spectre raised its head, but not always. The pain was still there, along with the deep sense of betrayal, buried but certainly not dead.

  He wondered if Annabelle really had found out about Craig and her mother, or if she’d been playing her usual trick of sounding more knowledgeable than she actually was. Since she’d become more attitude than personality, it was often hard to tell what was going on in her mind, but he was never in any doubt of how much pain and damage Sabrina’s erratic swings from hysteria to melancholy had caused her.

  Annabelle was still chatting on the phone when they pulled in through the gates, and after grabbing her bag of straw from the boot she disappeared inside without even a backward glance. It saddened Robert right to his core to realise how they were all drifting apart. He used to tell himself, during those terrible dark months after the affair, that once the worst was over they’d be able to pick up the pieces and somehow carry on as they had before. He realised now how naive and self-delusional that was. The betrayal and breakdown had changed them all, and in ways they still barely recognised or understood. It was as though the memories were continuing the destruction, eroding their bond and resisting his attempts to try and keep them together.

  ‘Are you going straight away?’ Annabelle asked as he carried the vegetables into the kitchen.

  ‘I’m afraid I have to,’ he answered, glancing at the clock. ‘I’m already in danger of missing the flight.’

  ‘Remind me where you’re going,’ she said, helping herself to a carrot.

  ‘Rome. I’ll be back at the weekend. Do you know where Mum is?’

  She shook her head. ‘No note, but I expect she’s somewhere with June. She usually is.’

  ‘OK, I’ll give her a call from the car. Will you be all right?’

  She looked at him in surprise. ‘Of course,’ she answered. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

  He smiled. ‘No idea,’ he said, and after hugging her warmly, which to his great joy she returned, he took himself back to the car.

  An hour later Sabrina came to an abrupt halt in the kitchen doorway, hardly able to believe her eyes. ‘Well, that’s a sight I never expected to see,’ she commented, dumping her supermarket bags on a counter top. ‘What on earth are you doing?’

  ‘If you must know, I’m trying to make a grass skirt,’ Annabelle answered, brushing glue on to the back of a white leather belt.

  ‘You could have fooled me,’ Sabrina told her. ‘Where did you get the straw?’

  ‘From a farm shop, where do you think? And if you’re going to stand there making rude comments you can just get lost.’

  Sabrina’s eyebrows rose. ‘Actually, I might offer to help if I knew what it was for,’ she said, starting to load up the fridge.

  ‘It’s a fancy dress party, OK? I’m going as a Hawaiian girl, hence the grass skirt.’

  Sabrina looked impressed by the choice. ‘You’ll need a lei,’ she told her.

  Annabelle looked up.

  ‘As in garland,’ Sabrina said, with a roll of her eyes. ‘Whose party is it?’

  ‘A friend’s.’

  ‘Does the friend have a name?’

  ‘Shit, it’s not sticking. This is driving me mental. You do it.’

  ‘Since you ask so charmingly, no.’

  ‘Oh, Mum, please. I don’t have anything else to wear, so it has to be this.’

  Going over to the table, Sabrina looked down at the mess and sighed. ‘You’d do better to stick the straw to paper, then sew it into some fabric,’ she told her.

  ‘That is a brilliant idea,’ Annabelle cried. ‘I’ll get the sewing machine.’ She was on her feet before she said, ‘Have we got one?’

  Sabrina shook her head.

  ‘Why not?’ Annabelle demanded furiously. ‘Everyone has a sewing machine, except you, of course, because you’re not like normal mothers. You have to buy everything, or get someone else to make it. You never do anything yourself.’

  ‘This is absolutely not the way to enlist my help,’ Sabrina told her. ‘So unless you calm down and start speaking with a civil tongue in your head you can clear up that mess and go to the ball in rags.’

  ‘Very funny,’ but Annabelle was too entranced by her idea of wearing a grass skirt to the party to let her frustration get in the way, so assuming her best sweet-girl smile, she said, ‘Please Mummy, will you help?’

  Sabrina slanted her a look. ‘I might, when I’ve finished this,’ she replied, ‘but only if you wash the salad before it goes in the fridge.’

  Annabelle gave an impatient sigh, but managed to bite back the ripe response that had sprung to her lips. ‘OK, it’s a deal,’ she said. ‘Now, where are we going to get the fabric?’

  ‘We can probably use an old sheet, then you can cover it with the belt. What are you wearing on the top?’

  Annabelle swallowed. ‘I dunno. One of my bikinis, I expect. And a lei. Can you make one of those?’

  ‘Possibly. You’ll have to go and get some flowers from Mimi, and some wire to string them together.’

  ‘Will she have the wire too?’

  ‘She should.’

  ‘OK, I’ll go now and do the salad when I get back. Shall I put the flowers on your account?’

  Sabrina sighed. ‘I suppose so,’ and standing aside for Annabelle to get past, she went to make a closer inspection of the debacle so far. It was such a hopeless effort that a six-year-old could have made a better job, and shaking her head in dismay she went upstairs to find an old sheet, collecting her sewing box from the escritoire in the hall on her way back.

  By the time Annabelle returned the skirt was virtually made.

  ‘Where have you been?’ Sabrina demanded as she came in the door with a bouquet of chrysanths, moon daises, various coloured dahlias and a handful of clarkia.

  ‘I ran into a couple of friends,’ she answered.

  ‘You haven’t been mixing with those people on the new estate again, have you?’

  ‘So what if I have? You’re such a snob, and they go to my school, so I’m hardly going to ignore them, am I? Anyway, is this OK? Did I get enough?’

  Sabrina’s expression was sour as she nodded. ‘I think so,’ she responded. ‘Here, try this,’ and biting off the cotton, she swung the skirt up for Annabelle to see.

  ‘Oh my God, you are a genius,’ Annabelle gushed, grabbing it and holding it against herself. ‘Do you reckon we could dye the straw green?’

  ‘No,’ Sabrina answered firmly. ‘It’s fine like that. The flowers will brighten it up.’

  ‘So are you going to do that now?’

  ‘Looks like I’ll have to. I want you to help, though. I’d also like to know whose party it is, and where it’s being held.’

  Annabelle gave a long-suffering sigh. ‘It’s at Theo McAllister’s, OK? You know his mother, Jemima.’

  ‘You’re right, I do, so I also know that Theo’s nineteen. Don’t you think you’re a little young to be going…’

  ‘Oh for God’s sake, you are so ageist. No one cares about that sort of stuff any more. We’re all friends, that’s what matters.’

  ‘But how does someone your age get to be friends with someone who’s already at uni? It’s not as though you’re seeing one another at school.’

  ‘We just k
now people in common, OK?’

  ‘Which people?’

  ‘Oh, Mum, give it a rest.’

  ‘These are reasonable questions. I don’t understand why you’re being so defensive.’

  With another impatient sigh, Annabelle said, ‘Georgie’s cousin Hugh is at Manchester with him, OK? And Cat’s sister used to go out with him. Satisfied now?’

  She was, and wasn’t, but as this was showing all the signs of deteriorating into yet another flaming row she decided to let it go. ‘Where’s the wire?’ she asked.

  ‘In the bag. Shall I start cutting the heads off the flowers?’

  ‘I think you’d better let me do that. You can get on with the salad, but put the sewing box away first.’

  ‘Where does it belong?’

  ‘If you ever did anything for yourself you’d know it lives in the bottom drawer of the escritoire.’

  Annabelle wrinkled her nose. ‘What’s that when it’s at home?’

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, just leave it and get on with the lettuce.’

  Annabelle grinned. ‘Just joking,’ she said. ‘I know what an escritoire is,’ and scooping up the sewing box she carried it off to the hall. By the time she came back Sabrina was starting to snip at the dahlias.

  ‘So what are you doing tonight?’ Annabelle asked, searching for the salad spinner.

  ‘June and I are going to the gym for an hour,’ Sabrina answered, ‘and we’ll probably stay on for dinner.’

  ‘Sounds cool. Actually, I wouldn’t mind a membership of Babington for my sixteenth.’

  ‘If I thought you’d use it you might be in with a chance. It’s something we could do together.’

  ‘Yeah, well, on second thoughts…’

  Trying not to be hurt by the reply, Sabrina let it slide and worked on in silence for a while, mulling over the chat she’d had with Robert on the phone about Annabelle and where her money was going.

  For her part Annabelle was thinking about how she was going to blow everyone’s minds when she turned up as a Hawaiian girl tonight.

  In the end, when Annabelle had finished washing the lettuce and came to sit at the table, Sabrina said, ‘There’s something I’d like to ask you.’

  ‘What’s that?’ Annabelle responded distractedly. She was inspecting Sabrina’s handiwork so far and liking what she saw. ‘Oh my God, you’re not about to do the drug thing are you,’ she said, suddenly connecting. ‘I already told Robert, it’s not an issue.’

  ‘I hope that’s the truth,’ Sabrina said, trying to meet her eyes, but Annabelle was still focused on the flowers.

  ‘No, it’s a lie,’ Annabelle retorted sarcastically, ‘because as we all know everything I say…’

  ‘All right, all right,’ Sabrina interrupted. ‘Actually, it wasn’t only about that,’ she went on, and in spite of knowing this wasn’t likely to have a good outcome, she braced herself and said, ‘I’d like to know if you’re still a virgin?’

  There was a beat before Annabelle’s head came up. Her expression was pure outrage. ‘That is so none of your business,’ she told her.

  ‘Actually, everything you do is my business,’ Sabrina corrected, ‘and that wasn’t an answer. So are you?’

  ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t have these conversations with anyone but my closest friends.’

  ‘I’m going to take it from that, that you’re not,’ Sabrina said, feeling a horrible sense of failure creeping over her.

  ‘Take it how you want, it’s up to you.’

  Going back to what she was doing in an effort to hide the tears that had sprung to her eyes, Sabrina said, ‘I hope you’re using contraception.’

  ‘Oh, puhlease, can we just drop this now?’

  ‘I’m just saying, if you are sexually active, you need to be using condoms. And that’s not me giving my permission for you to be intimate with boys, I simply want you to be safe if you are.’

  ‘Mum, everything’s sorted, OK? Put it out of your head and stop embarrassing us both.’

  Sabrina took a breath. ‘Of course, if you are still a virgin…’

  ‘Oh, for Christ’s sake,’ Annabelle shouted, springing to her feet, ‘you are driving me mental here. I do what I want to do, OK?’

  ‘No, it’s very far from OK, and if you’re going to take that attitude we can stop what we’re doing right now and you can stay home this evening.’

  Annabelle gritted her teeth as she seethed with frustration. ‘You are so infuriating,’ she growled. ‘Here we are, sitting having a nice time, and you have to go and spoil it all with this stupid conversation.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I’m just trying to…’

  ‘Upset me, like you always do. Well you’ve succeeded, happy now?’

  ‘That wasn’t my intention. I simply want to…’

  ‘If you don’t shut up, right now, I’m walking out of here.’

  ‘Don’t speak to me like that. I’m your mother, you’ll show me some respect or you really will be grounded.’

  ‘I’m going to that party tonight, and if you try to stop me you’ll be sorry.’

  Sabrina’s face paled as she looked at her. ‘Are you threatening me?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m just telling you, get out of my hair.’

  Sabrina dropped the wire and flowers. ‘Go to your room,’ she said, ‘and you can put all thoughts of going to that party out of your head, because it’s not going to happen.’

  ‘You can’t stop me.’

  Sabrina rose to her feet, and grabbing hold of Annabelle’s arm she began hauling her towards the door.

  ‘Get your hands off me,’ Annabelle snapped, twisting herself free. ‘You can’t tell me what to do.’

  Sabrina’s face was white with anger. ‘Oh yes I can, and you’re grounded for the rest of the summer.’

  ‘No fucking way,’ Annabelle sneered and made to push past her.

  Catching her by the shoulders Sabrina tried to turn her back, but Annabelle chopped her hands away and shoved her against the wall.

  ‘Annabelle!’ Sabrina cried as Annabelle grabbed her bag and the grass skirt and started for the door. ‘Come back here.’

  Ignoring her, Annabelle stormed out of the kitchen and down to the gate. Sabrina went after her, but by the time she ran into the cul de sac Annabelle was already rounding the corner into the high street. Since she had no transport she’d no doubt go straight to Tom Sebastian’s for a taxi, so going back indoors Sabrina picked up the phone.

  Luckily, both drivers were out on jobs, which meant Annabelle would either have to wait for a car to come back, or take the bus. Even if she was still in the village, Sabrina had no intention of risking a showdown for all to see, so she tried Annabelle’s mobile. Finding herself diverted to voicemail, she was about to leave a message when the landline rang. Snatching it up she drew breath to snap angrily at Annabelle, but then noticed the caller ID just in time. Her tone changed completely as she said, ‘Jennifer, what a lovely surprise. Robert and I were only talking about you the other night, wondering how you are.’

  ‘Oh, we’re fine,’ came the reply in an unmistakably American accent. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Never better,’ Sabrina assured her, and with all thoughts of Annabelle eclipsed by the possibility of receiving a highly prized invitation to the Bingleigh family villa on the Cap d’Antibes sometime in August, she settled down to give her full attention to the call.

  * * *

  ‘Annabelle? Is that you?’ Alicia said, coming in from the patio and spotting the girl standing in the shop window staring out into the street.

  Annabelle spun round and waved. She was talking to someone on her mobile, but rang off as Alicia came through to the front. ‘Hi,’ she said, ‘I’m waiting for a taxi to pick me up, so I thought I’d drop in to see how you’re getting on.’

  Knowing instinctively it was a lie, or at least not the entire truth, Alicia said, ‘As you can see, it’s coming together. We might, I stress might, be ready to open in a couple of weeks.’ Tell
that to your mother, she thought angrily.

  ‘Cool. Are you going to have some kind of party?’

  Since she wasn’t about to admit to Annabelle that she couldn’t afford one, she said, ‘I’ve been thinking about it, but I’m not sure yet.’

  Annabelle glanced back out to the street, then looked around again, taking in the newly painted walls and empty space where the counter used to be. Then her eyes came to Alicia’s and for a startling moment Alicia thought they were misted with tears.

  ‘I used to love it when Grandma had this shop,’ Annabelle said croakily, gazing round again. ‘I’d come over here all the time, and she’d let me sort through the stuff that came in.’ She gave a wavery sort of smile. ‘Do you remember how me and Darcie dressed up that year, for Christmas?’ she said. ‘We had all those beads and things, and Nat made a top hat out of cardboard and decorated it with tinsel.’

  Alicia was watching her closely, and realising, with a deep sense of sorrow, that she’d given little thought to how her mother’s death might have affected Annabelle. ‘Yes, I remember,’ she said gently. ‘You made us all laugh so much that Grandma got the hiccups and we couldn’t get rid of them.’

  Annabelle giggled. ‘Then Uncle Craig jumped out on her from behind the sofa and frightened her half to death. She was really cross with him, wasn’t she, but it cured her hiccups.’

  ‘It did,’ Alicia answered. Then, daring to go a step further, ‘I expect you miss her, don’t you?’

  Annabelle’s eyes drifted across the shop as she nodded. ‘So does Robert,’ she said. ‘We get out photo albums sometimes to look at her and talk about all the things she used to say and do. Mum misses her too, but she doesn’t really join in, she just listens, or goes off to make a cup of tea.’ She looked at Alicia again, then seeming to make a sudden break from her reverie she started to strain to see into the back room. ‘Nat not here?’ she said, clicking straight back into her Miss Cool persona.

  ‘No, he’s gone to the cricket with Simon today.’

  Annabelle immediately looked interested. ‘Really? What about his girlfriend?’

  ‘She’s with her parents in Italy.’

  The way Annabelle’s eyes dilated told Alicia right away that she’d almost certainly made a mistake, but it was too late now. ‘Well, you’re welcome to wait for your taxi here…’