by Rona Halsall
Anna’s lips pursed, a wary look on her face. Fran closed her eyes for a moment and wondered if she was about to ruin their friendship, but decided she’d started so she was going to have to finish. She stirred her tea, put the teaspoon carefully on the saucer before daring to meet Anna’s eyes.
‘It’s okay, Fran.’ Anna reached across the table and patted her hand. ‘Don’t look so worried. I always guessed there was something else going on, but it wasn’t my business, so I didn’t want to ask.’ Anna gave her a reassuring smile and the words came rushing out, the whole story.
‘Martha is the child of a… rapist.’
Anna winced and sat back in her chair while Fran explained the arrangement they’d made with the family of Martha’s biological father, instead of taking him to court.
‘He… took advantage. And then she was what you call a cryptic pregnancy, you see, so we didn’t know she was coming until the day she was born. It was a shock to everyone. Then Mum decided that we shouldn’t have to take total responsibility for the cost of bringing up the child. She was so furious about the whole thing, made me tell her who it was, and rang him. Gave him a right earful, threatened to go to the police.’ Fran sighed. ‘None of us wanted that, to be honest. Anyway, an arrangement was made. His family said they would pay rent on a house in a different area and maintenance for Martha on condition that she never knows who her real father is, and we never contacted them again. Her father was a student at the time, studying law at university, would you believe.’
Anna shook her head, her lips pressed together so hard, they’d all but disappeared. Fran took a sip of tea as she gathered her thoughts. Anna stayed silent. She’d always been a good listener, but she usually chipped in with the odd question, seeking clarification, or to make an observation; now there was nothing. Perhaps she doesn’t know what to say? There was no doubt it was a shocking story.
The quiet became unnerving and Fran carried on. ‘Anyway, we stuck to the agreement. I registered Martha’s birth and put Greg as the father. I figured it was easier if he never found out and because he’d been working away he accepted my version of the truth. He never knew who was paying the rent and where that extra bit of money was from. I said it was from work, we had separate bank accounts and it was all fine. For years it was fine.’
‘So, what changed?’
Fran gave a rueful smile. As usual, Anna’s question was the only pertinent one to ask.
‘Well, we were trying for another child, but it didn’t happen. It was creating a lot of stress between us and eventually he insisted we be tested.’ Fran swallowed. ‘Turned out he was infertile, so I had no choice but to tell him the truth. It was that or our marriage was over because he thought I’d been unfaithful.’
She glanced at Anna, who was looking quite alarmed by the revelations. She shook her head, took a sip of tea. ‘Oh my word, what a difficult situation. I’m so sorry that happened to you. I don’t suppose you felt you had any alternative but to tell him, did you?’
‘No, that’s exactly it. So, the same night we got the news that he was impotent, when we’d had a couple of bottles of wine to drown our sorrows, I told him everything and he was so angry, he was smashing the place up, throwing things… It was pretty scary. Then he had this idea that the guy and his family owed us more – that we could ask whatever we wanted from them. He went on about it for weeks and I thought it had all settled down. But then he got beaten up.’
Anna tutted. ‘I remember it well. Really scary for all of you, wasn’t it?’
‘Well, that was the result of him trying to blackmail the family.’
Anna’s mouth dropped open. ‘No!’
Fran nodded. ‘I know, I couldn’t believe it either. He wouldn’t tell me the details, said it was better I didn’t know. He was so worried about our safety after that, he felt it was dangerous for us to live together. He wanted me to go away and start again.’ Fran shook her head, sadly. ‘You know the rest, and I’ve got to say, Anna, I’m so grateful you helped us out.’
Anna smiled. ‘You’re my friend, Fran, of course I want to help you out.’
Fran put the letter on the table. ‘I thought it was all over. But then this came yesterday. And now I’m scared again. I think… it’s from him. The rapist’s father.’
Anna frowned. ‘What does it say? I haven’t got my reading glasses.’ She pushed the piece of paper back towards Fran, who picked it up, voice shaking as she read.
Fran,
I know where you live. I’ll always know where you live, so don’t think you can run away from me. If you keep to the deal, then you and Martha are safe. Break the conditions again and you’re not. The good news for you is Martha’s allowance will continue, but only at half the rate now. I could have stopped it altogether since you reneged on our agreement, but that’s not fair to the child and we’ll consider it as insurance, to encourage you to comply. If you decide to try your vanishing trick again, the money will stop.
I have a copy of Martha’s birth certificate. You committed a criminal offence by falsifying an official document. I won’t tell if you don’t.
Anna looked thoughtful then said, ‘Well, I don’t know what to suggest.’ She frowned. ‘You could end up in prison if the authorities find out, so you can’t get the police involved, can you?’
Fran shook her head. ‘No, I can’t. But the thing is, we’re not settling in here. Neither me nor Martha. I mean, it’s nice when you come down, but it’s all the time between. And getting about is a problem. We’re just too isolated.’ Fran looked at the letter again. ‘But if we try and move, will there be trouble?’
Anna folded her arms and leant back in her chair. ‘Oh dear. You’re a bit stuck, aren’t you? I’m sorry you don’t like it here, but it sounds like you made a deal, and these don’t sound like people you want to mess with. Blackmail was a stupid idea.’
Fran looked at her hands. ‘I know, I know. But it was nothing to do with me.’
Anna’s voice softened. ‘I’ve never wanted to say this before, but Greg wasn’t a good person for you to be with. Let’s face it, he’s really messed up your life, hasn’t he?’
Fran picked at a fingernail, not wanting to acknowledge the truth of Anna’s words.
‘You personally did nothing wrong, but you’ve suffered the consequences of his terrible idea.’ She tutted. ‘Doesn’t seem fair at all.’
‘No, it doesn’t.’ Fran leant her elbows on the table, her head in her hands. Tears welled in her eyes and she didn’t want Anna to see her crying. If only she could go back in time, if only she’d been honest with Greg from the start.
Anna was silent and Fran was lost in her regrets, unable to see any brightness in her future if she was stuck in the wilds of Cornwall.
‘I’m really not sure what to suggest,’ Anna said eventually. ‘But would it help if you had my car to use? This is my little run-around but it’s pretty ancient now and I was planning on getting a new one. It’s only worth a few hundred pounds, if that.’
Fran sat up and sniffed. ‘Oh no, I couldn’t take your car.’
Anna gazed out of the window, then turned and smiled. ‘Well, if you won’t let me give it to you, how about if I just put you on the insurance? Then you can drive it when you want. And if I don’t fancy driving down sometimes, I can get a train, which will be so much nicer than getting stuck in the awful traffic. You can pick me up from the station and then I’ll have it to use when I’m here – we can share.’ She leant forwards, clearly delighted with her own idea. ‘What do you say?’
Fran thought about it for a moment, not sure if this was the answer she’d been looking for.
‘If having a car would make life easier, living here won’t be that bad, will it?’ Anna looked at Fran, a sharp note of hurt in her voice. ‘For a lot of people, this would be their idea of heaven.’
Fran realised then that she’d been a bit insensitive. Anna had rescued her from an impossible situation, given her a home to live in for free for t
he time being, provided her with regular work, and now she was going to give her the use of her car. The poor woman was bending over backwards to help, and Fran knew she’d sounded ungrateful.
‘Thank you, Anna. Thank you so much,’ she said, making herself smile. ‘You’ve been so kind. I don’t know where I’d be without you.’
Anna beamed. ‘Glad to help. More tea?’
Fran nodded, her heart heavy with the realisation that she was stuck, and she really didn’t want a cup of tea. What she really wanted was a large gin.
Twenty-Seven
Martha
Now
The presence of the policeman at the hospital kept niggling in Martha’s mind, making her heart race and her head buzz.
‘What if the police turn up here again?’ she said to Izzy when they were clearing up after their evening meal. ‘What if they arrest me?’ She clattered cutlery into the sink. ‘I’m so worried, I can’t think of anything else.’
‘Look, there’s no point worrying,’ Izzy said, cleaning the remains of her meal into the bin. ‘Worrying gets you nowhere. If it happens, it happens. But honestly, I think we’ve seen the last of them.’
Martha didn’t think that was much of an answer and she blurted out what was on her mind. ‘I think I should hand myself in. Come clean with them. Then it’ll all get sorted. I can’t cope with the not knowing; honestly, it’s eating me up inside.’
Izzy stared at her, clearly stunned. ‘What! No!’ She wagged a finger. ‘No, no, no. You’re not going to do that.’ She filled the kettle then turned to look at Martha, a stern expression on her face. ‘Think about it. You haven’t done anything wrong. But if you’re not careful they’ll be pinning this one on you. Especially if you’ve left forensic evidence all over the place. And you haven’t been upfront about being there, which looks suspicious.’ She got two mugs from the drainer, next to the sink, and dropped a teabag in each before pouring in the water. Izzy’s words settled in Martha’s mind, matching thoughts that she’d had herself earlier.
‘Maybe you’re right,’ she said, sitting at the breakfast bar while Izzy brought the tea over. ‘Nobody knows I was there. And nobody can prove I wasn’t here either.’
‘Exactly.’ Izzy sat opposite. ‘So, we’re all good. Anyway, the police didn’t come to see us, it was your mum they wanted to speak to.’
Martha let out a relieved breath. ‘We’re in the clear, then?’
‘We are.’
They sat in silence for a few minutes before Martha said, ‘Thanks for that. I was getting myself in a right tizz about everything.’
Izzy smiled and her eyes softened. ‘See, nothing to worry about.’ She picked up her tea, cradling the mug to her chest. ‘You’ve got me to look after you now.’
Martha looked away, a rush of emotion taking her by surprise. It was so nice to have someone to take responsibility, to guide her. Fran had been relatively useless in that department for quite a few years now, and in some respects, Martha felt she’d brought herself up from the age of nine. Now here was Izzy, a proper friend to talk things through with and help her make the right decisions.
‘Will you come to hospital tomorrow? Meet Mum? I’m sure she’d love to say hello, and then if the police ask her about you being at the house, she’ll know who they’re talking about.’
Izzy lifted her mug to her lips, blew on the steaming liquid before taking a sip. ‘Oh, um… you know, I don’t think that’s a good idea. People feel so vulnerable in hospital. I wouldn’t want her to feel awkward. Let’s wait until she’s home.’
Martha had the distinct feeling that Izzy was hiding something, then remembered her comment about hating hospitals. That’ll be it, she decided, and it was understandable given everything Izzy had been through. Being sectioned must have been a terrifying experience for a teenager. She picked up her own mug, her unease evaporating like the steam from her tea. Who wouldn’t be frightened of hospitals after that?
‘Okay. Good point. Anyway, you’ll get to meet her soon enough.’
Izzy glanced around the kitchen. ‘You know, I really enjoyed having a good tidy up today.’
Martha followed her gaze, noticing now how much cleaner and tidier the room was. ‘It’s looking lovely.’ Her cheeks burned. ‘Sorry it was such a mess. You’re a guest, you shouldn’t be cleaning.’
‘Oh, but I like cleaning.’ Izzy’s eyes shone with amusement. ‘Honestly, don’t look so shocked. We all have our things, don’t we? I can see housework isn’t second nature in this household, but I’m happy to have a good spring clean as my way of helping out. Paying for my keep, if you like.’
Martha laughed. ‘Are you my fairy godmother? Because I have longed for someone to do that for years. It just seemed too much for me, and Mum wouldn’t let me touch anything – if I moved stuff, she’d move it back and tell me to leave it alone.’ She sipped her tea, her excuses sounding lame.
‘So, here’s a plan.’ Izzy positively glowed, looked pleased with herself. ‘While you’re visiting your mum, I’ll carry on tidying, and then when they come to do the assessment, they’re more likely to say she can come home because it isn’t a biohazard zone any more.’
Martha laughed. Izzy was right. It made a lot of sense, and if she was being really honest with herself, asking Izzy to come to the hospital with her had been a way of finding an excuse not to drive as much as anything else. Time to be a bit braver, she decided. ‘Okay, great idea,’ she said, trying to sound like she meant it.
‘Any chance you can drop all the bags off at the tip on your way?’ Izzy finished her tea and stood up. ‘Come on, I’ll show you what I’ve done so far.’
Martha followed Izzy up to the box room, admiring the neatness and order she’d managed to create in such a short time. Why couldn’t we do that? she wondered, but she knew the answer. Now, she wanted to join in, wanted to play a part in taking control of the house she’d never wanted to call home.
She’d liked it in Bingley, where they’d lived before her mum had dragged her down here. She’d had a little group of friends who all lived close by. They could walk to each other’s houses, go and play in the playground in the middle of the estate. Her mum had been happy then. She used to bake and make things with her, had been involved in the school. They used to go on day trips. In fact, they’d been a normal family. Then her dad did that mystery something – that she still hadn’t got to the bottom of – and everything changed.
She supposed, in her heart, she’d been protesting about the move ever since, refusing to look after their new home because she hadn’t wanted to be here.
The box room now looked like a bedroom and smelt fresh, the bed all tidy and the chest of drawers moved into a better position instead of being shoved against the window. She was amazed that Izzy had managed to sort through the pile of bags and other junk so quickly. Then she realised she couldn’t have done, and the hairs stood up on the back of her neck. She’s just thrown everything out!
Her heart skipped a beat as she thought of her mum’s reaction. Christ, she’ll be fuming if anything important has gone. It was all rubbish to Izzy, but there might have been things of sentimental value in there. Everything that matters will be in her bedroom, Martha told herself, cringing inside. What if it isn’t? said a voice in her head. Was she really going to go through each bag and sort it out? Make Izzy feel that she was double-checking, undermining her efforts? No, she decided. It’s done now. And anyway, there wasn’t time. They only had a few days before the assessment and, in reality, her mum wouldn’t miss whatever had been in the room; she probably didn’t even remember what was in all those bags and boxes.
It’ll be fine. Absolutely fine.
It occurred to her that Izzy knew how to look after a house, how to make it into a home, whereas her mum had never bothered, and that pinched at her now, made her wonder why it hadn’t been important enough to Fran. Maybe I’m not important enough, she thought and quickly turned her attention back to Izzy.
‘You’ve
done a great job,’ she said. ‘Doesn’t look too bad now, does it?’
‘It’ll do me just fine,’ Izzy said, sitting on the bed.
Martha gazed out of the window, which was now clean, making her notice the lovely panorama that existed right outside. Amazed by the way Izzy was so quickly bringing order to their shambles of a house. Maybe Martha wouldn’t mind living here so much if it felt like a cherished home instead of just somewhere she’d ended up. And now she had a friend to share things with, she realised how lonely she’d been these past years.
If Martha chose to live here, that put a completely different spin on things. Her gaze moved back to Izzy.
‘How long do you think you can stay?’ A week or two didn’t feel like enough now.
Izzy beamed. ‘Well, I’ve nowhere else to go, nowhere I have to be. I’ll be here forever, if that’s what you want.’
It wasn’t the answer Martha had expected and she felt a bit wrong-footed, confused. She leant against the wall. ‘But what about your course? You’ll have to go back and finish that. You’ve got another year to go, haven’t you?’
The smile dropped from Izzy’s face and she gave a little grimace. ‘Ah, well, I probably should have said something earlier… Um, I decided to quit. I’m not going back.’
Martha’s mouth fell open. ‘But you have to. You’ve put all that work in. It’s only another year and a bit—’
‘I’m not going back.’ Izzy’s voice snapped off the end of Martha’s sentence and she held up both hands as if pushing the very thought of returning away. ‘I’ve decided and that’s it. I wasn’t enjoying it.’ Her mouth twisted from side to side. ‘Honestly, it was messing with my head rather than helping me to understand…’ She shrugged. ‘I’m like you now. Looking for what happens next.’