And So It Begins

by Rachel Abbott

  ‘Course I’ll take you. The other three are at school, and this little horror…’ she squeezed Anik tightly, ‘…can stay with Granny, or Zahid if he’s not working. Just give me a day’s notice if you can so I can sort it.’

  Evie nodded her thanks, but she still looked distracted.

  ‘Listen, Evie, we’re on our way to see Granny, but she always makes a mountain of food. Why don’t you and Lulu come along too? She wouldn’t mind – I’m sure of that.’

  Evie leaned forward and gave Aminah a quick hug.

  ‘Thanks, Aminah. You’re a gem, but I need to get back. Mark gets a bit restless if I’m out for too long.’

  With a weak smile, Evie turned Lulu’s pushchair around. ‘Bye, Anik,’ she said. But he ignored her, still bouncing up and down each time a gentle wave washed the shore.

  Aminah watched her go and not for the first time wondered what it must be like to live with a man who was so needy.

  10

  The weeks since I hurt my hand have dragged. Mark has been attentive, and Cleo has never been out of the house. Thank God she has to be at the gallery for a chunk of each day, because when she’s here she watches me as I play with Lulu. I know she thinks I’m accident-prone, but I’m careful with my daughter.

  I’ve missed my swimming sessions with Lulu. We love playing together in the pool, and she was becoming quite a water baby. But I can’t persuade Mark to take her and Cleo doesn’t want to upset her brother by having fun in the basement. He tells me that he’s over Mia, that her death doesn’t hurt him any more, yet he still claims he can’t go down there, where she died.

  I had plucked up the courage to ask him about it just before he went away to France. It’s the reason we argued.

  ‘Why do you pretend that you’ll never darken the depths of your beautiful basement again?’ I asked as I pulled on my workout kit. ‘You’ve been down more than once – I know you have – so what’s the big deal?’

  Mark has the most expressive eyes I’ve ever seen, and at that moment they reminded me of the sea on a stormy day as a flash of lightning rips through the air and fleetingly reflects off the water’s wild black surface.

  ‘I go when I need to. When I want to get a few things straight in my head.’

  I sat down on the bed and leaned back on my elbows, trying to look relaxed – as if this was just a normal conversation. Mark was collecting the clothes for his trip and shoving them into a holdall.

  ‘It must have been hell for you when Mia died,’ I said. ‘I understand that. But it was an accident and maybe you’d find it easier to live with if you didn’t treat part of your home as a no-go area.’

  Mark seemed frozen to the spot. He had his back to me still and was gripping the top of the chest of drawers. I could see how white his knuckles were.

  ‘I see her every time I go down there. In my head, I picture her body sprawled on the tiles, face up, eyes staring. I know what she was wearing, just as I always know what you’re wearing when you exercise. I see you getting ready, just as I saw her getting ready.’

  ‘Don’t you think that if you went up and down there every day, used the gym, used the pool, those visions might fade?’

  He spun round and marched over to the bed, grabbed my hand and pulled me forward.

  ‘Right. Let’s see if that works, shall we? Come on. We’ll go to the basement, and you can see for yourself what it does to me.’

  I tried to resist, but he’s always been too strong for me.

  He was right, though. There was no mistaking the impact the basement had on him, and I’m never going to suggest it again. He left me down there once he’d proved his point and I didn’t see him again until he came back from France.

  Mark has a photographic studio on the middle floor next to our bedroom. It’s a huge space hewn out of the cliff face, with windows to the north. Even though he’s a photographer and not a painter, he loves to use natural light wherever possible for his studio shots. I never understood why a north-facing room mattered so much to an artist until he took my photograph in there. It was a hot day, but I realised that the sun’s rays couldn’t penetrate the room – couldn’t throw shadows or change the colour of the walls. The level of light could alter depending on the weather or the time of day, but it was never yellow or tinged with the red of a sunset.

  He’s been working down there all morning on the French commission, and he seems quite happy with how it’s going. I expected him to be there until this evening but I hear the heavy door close with a thud and I know he’s on his way upstairs to me and Lulu.

  ‘Cup of tea?’ he asks, walking over to the kitchen. It’s surprising how normal things can appear on the surface.

  ‘No thanks. Have you finished for the day? I’ve got to go and have my plaster cast removed, and if you’re not working I thought you might look after Lulu.’

  He grabs a mug from the cupboard and plonks it down on the worktop.

  ‘Course I will. What had you planned to do with her?’

  ‘I was going to take her with me. Aminah’s driving me there.’

  Mark switches off the kettle and walks across to perch on the arm of the sofa. ‘Evie, why didn’t you ask me? I would have taken you. Surely you know that?’

  There is no answer I can think of that won’t sound like I’m being difficult.

  ‘I thought it would be easier, and I’ve not seen Aminah for a while. But as you’re here, I know Lulu would enjoy some time with her daddy.’

  Lulu is crawling around on her play mat and Mark falls to his knees to tickle her. She giggles and grabs his hand.

  I look at them both and wonder, not for the first time, if I’m doing the right thing. Should I leave him, take Lulu and disappear so Mark can get on with his life? But I can’t do that. It’s hard, but I’m not about to give up. Not after so long.

  My phone buzzes and I know it is Aminah telling me she is outside.

  ‘I’ve got to go. Are you sure you don’t mind?’

  Mark jumps to his feet, picking Lulu up and spinning her round. He pulls her close and brings her across to me.

  ‘Kiss Mummy goodbye, Lulu.’

  He smiles at me, and for a moment I see shades of his sister in his face. It strengthens my resolve.

  I kiss my daughter’s velvety cheek and Mark’s rough one before I leave.

  11

  ‘Thanks for doing this,’ I say as I lower myself into the passenger seat of Aminah’s sports car. It’s surprising how difficult some tasks are with one useless hand, but it’s not for much longer. I can’t help wondering where she thought we were going to put Lulu if Mark hadn’t agreed to look after her but she answers that question without me having to ask.

  ‘It’s my pleasure and it’s good to see you. Zahid has the people-carrier to pick up the kids, so I get the mean machine. Special treat. Thought we could use yours if Lulu was coming, but as she’s not…’

  Aminah puts the car into gear and roars off down the track sending shards of stone flying. She drives like she does everything else – with total abandon. At this point I usually reach for the grab handle, but I can’t today so I clutch the edge of the seat with my good hand.

  ‘Sorry I haven’t been to see you recently,’ she says as we hit the main road. ‘I came down with tonsillitis the day after I saw you down by the sea wall. Tonsillitis! I thought only kids got that, but I can tell you it bloody hurt. I felt as if my throat was full of razor blades and I couldn’t eat a thing. I lost nearly a stone in a week!’ She laughs at this idea. ‘Not a problem, though. A few cakes and a bar or two of chocolate and it will all be back where it belongs. What joy.’

  I can’t help but smile when I’m with Aminah, and I can never work out why she and Cleo are such good friends. Cleo is so controlled, so uptight. They couldn’t be more different. Maybe it’s the whole yin and yang thing, because they appear to have totally opposing values.

  ‘I didn’t want to come round and infect you with my bugs,’ she said. That’s the othe
r thing about her. She never stops talking and it makes life so much easier. I don’t have to think about what I’m going to say, because I rarely get a chance.

  ‘So, how’ve you been?’ she asks. ‘Okay, scratch that. You’ve been shit, I know. I can tell, and Cleo sent me a few messages saying how difficult you were finding things – especially with Lulu.’

  I bet she did.

  ‘How’s Mark taken it? He’s bloody paranoid about that stupid basement – I tell you, Evie, if you’ve got to go and hurt yourself again, can you please make it in another part of the house?’ She glances sideways at me. ‘Cleo says Mark’s off on another trip soon – Croatia, I think she said. Do you think you’ll be able to cope, because I can always call round to help you out?’

  I wait, fully expecting her to answer her own question. For once, she doesn’t.

  ‘I’ll be fine. Cleo’s always happy to help with Lulu if I’m stuck.’ I say that because I know it’s what a good sister-in-law would say, but Aminah hears something in my voice and briefly turns to me, her eyes slightly narrowed.

  ‘She loves Lulu, you know.’ There’s another pause and I’m thinking what to say when she saves me the trouble. ‘Cleo should have had kids of her own, then maybe she wouldn’t obsess about Mark and Lulu. She’d be best suited to one child, I think. Some people are… I’d have another at the drop of a hat – or something like that.’ She chuckles.

  ‘Why don’t you, then?’

  ‘Zahid put his foot down. He already thinks four is irresponsible, but Anik is only three, so I’ll give it a while then have another go at him. He usually caves.’ She grins. ‘What about you? Plans for more?’

  That’s not going to happen, but I’m not sure how to answer.

  ‘It’s too soon,’ I say. It’s a short answer and I feel I should give more. Despite giving the appearance that she doesn’t listen to anyone else, Aminah is perceptive and I don’t want her to read anything into my silence.

  ‘How’s Mark doing as a dad, then? He’s been the focus of attention with his sister and then Mia for so long, I wasn’t sure how he would stand up to the competition.’

  I have to admit that Mark is good with Lulu. The man that I met – the totally distracted, muddled character who wanted to keep the world at bay – would not have known what to do with a child. But being a father has changed him – at least when he’s with his daughter.

  ‘How long have you known Cleo, Aminah?’ Last time I asked I was told ‘forever’ but I want to know more than that.

  ‘We met when I moved here. I was fifteen and quite bolshy. I felt I had to be, because there were so few Asians living in this part of the world and it was hard to integrate. Cleo was in my year and a bit of a loner herself – she was always fussing over Mark and making sure he was okay and the other kids used to take the piss out of her, accused her of treating him like a baby, that sort of thing. So she was stroppy, unpopular, and then I came along. It wasn’t that we chose each other so much as neither of us had anyone else. And we came to rely on each other.’

  That made sense. The difference was that Aminah had moved on. She had a husband and four children, plus a host of friends. She and Zahid entertained regularly in their own haphazard way and their home was noisy, loving and fun.

  Cleo, on the other hand, had only Aminah as a friend. She told me once that she didn’t need anyone else, because she would always have Mark. I know for a fact that she would do anything for him, would turn a blind eye to whatever he did, right or wrong. And Mark knows it too.

  12

  It’s a week now since the plaster came off my hand, and it’s a huge relief. I can pick Lulu up again and dance her round the house to her favourite music. She’s not a fan of nursery rhymes but she seems to have developed a baby crush on Ed Sheeran and she loves it when we dance.

  Tomorrow, Mark’s going away again. It’s the research trip to Croatia and he’s been moaning about it for days.

  ‘Why do I have to see the yacht? Surely all they have to do is tell me the dimensions they’d like and I can take it from there. This is absolutely ridiculous and I don’t know why Cleo doesn’t tell them that this is not how I work.’

  I do my best to calm him down, but I know it’s all noise. He’s going to go, just as he always does.

  Cleo came round earlier, saying it wasn’t too late for me to go with him, but I said I don’t want to leave Lulu. I do find Cleo-watching to be a fascinating pastime, though.

  I remember when we told her about the blog. I hadn’t seen her in the three weeks since I had confessed to Mark that I wasn’t going to be able to pay for the photos, but I knew he had told her my father had died. We weren’t a couple then, but I was beginning to understand Mark, and I thought it might have been the first time he had ever done anything without consulting Cleo. I discovered later that evening that I was wrong.

  He asked Cleo to call in for a drink on her way home from work, to chat about the gallery and his commissions. It was clear from the minute she walked through the door that she had no idea that I was going to be there.

  We all sat on the sofas, Mark and I next to each other and Cleo facing us, trying to look relaxed but failing. Her eyes were so like Mark’s – so grey and expressive – and I knew she was confused by my presence. I was just a client, wasn’t I? And one who couldn’t pay the bill, at that.

  Mark waffled on a bit about the gallery and I could see he was biding his time, almost as if he was afraid of his sister’s reaction. But eventually he broached the subject of the blog, how we had been working on it for a couple of weeks and how excited he was by the idea. I had my iPad next to me so I pulled up the site on screen and turned it round to face Cleo. She was stunned. Not by the designs, though.

  ‘Why have you been hatching this plan behind my back?’ she asked, her brows joined together in a frown.

  ‘We’ve not been hatching anything,’ Mark said, rolling his eyes. ‘For God’s sake, Evie wanted to do something to help because of the problems with her dad’s money. She offered and, although I wasn’t sure about it to start with, it looks great and I thought you’d be pleased. It’s supposed to be a good surprise. You’re always on about better promotion, and this looks pretty damn good to me.’

  Cleo turned her head towards me, and I could see she was weighing me up. Was I trying to come between her and Mark, or was I just some poor young woman who had recently lost her father? She still hadn’t responded to Mark’s enthusiasm for the blog, and he was starting to get cross.

  ‘Take that look off your face, Cleo. This is costing us nothing, and it’s good publicity. Evie wanted us to keep it as a surprise until the design was done, and I thought that was a great idea.’

  She was still giving me a puzzled look, and I gave her what I trusted was a hopeful smile.

  ‘I tell you what,’ I said. ‘Why don’t I leave you for a few moments then you can chat. Mark, is it okay if I take some photos of your studio as long as I don’t touch anything? I know I’m no professional, but for the blog we need shots of where you work, and you can always replace them with something better when you have the time.’

  He gave me a distracted nod, staring at his sister as he tried to control his irritation, but I could see he was close to apologising – although for what, I wasn’t entirely sure.

  I wandered off with my iPad to take the pictures, leaving behind the silent living room. Cleo was obviously waiting until I was out of earshot.

  I walked down the stairs until I reached the door to the studio, opened it and let it swing closed with a thud. I stood still in the hall. I could hear every word.

  ‘Mark, I know this is a small thing. It’s only a stupid blog, when all’s said and done. But you need to be careful of Evie. I don’t trust her.’

  I heard the wine bottle go down rather too heavily on the table.

  ‘For God’s sake, Cleo. What on earth is wrong with you? She’s not charging us a penny, and it would probably have cost as much as the bloody photos if we’
d had to pay someone to do it.’

  ‘You’ve been so much better these past weeks, and I know some of that is down to the work you did on Evie’s photographs. But I don’t want you to be taken in by another woman, that’s all.’

  There was the type of silence you could cut with a knife. I had no idea what Mark was going to do and say next. In the end his voice was so low I could barely hear him.

  ‘What, precisely, does that mean?’

  ‘You know what it means. You never told me how you felt about Mia until it was too late, and I don’t want you making any more mistakes with your life.’

  ‘Too late? For whom, may I ask?’

  There was a deadly note in Mark’s voice. I had rarely heard him angry with his sister, but I could feel it even at the bottom of the stairs. It didn’t deter Cleo, though.

  ‘She wasn’t good for you. She didn’t have any faith in you, in your work. She didn’t encourage you, and she thought your photography was a hobby. Look, it’s nearly two years since she died, so surely you can finally see what a negative influence she was?’

  The silence intensified.

  ‘Cleo, if you’re saying that I’m better off without Mia – are you also saying it’s a good thing she’s dead?’

  There was a gasp. ‘Of course not! I wouldn’t ever say that.’

  ‘What would you say if I was the one who believed that? If my apparent grief was actually guilt – because I knew how bad she was for me and perhaps I think I’m better off without her? What would you say?’ There was a pause and then the rasping sound of a chair being pushed violently backwards on a solid floor. ‘I’m going to find Evie. I suggest you leave before one of us goes down a path from which there’s no return.’

  Silently I pushed the studio door open and just as quietly I closed it behind me.

  13