‘I know it’s tough for you and Matty when he goes away.’
‘Daddy says it won’t be forever, just until he gets his new job.’
Anita had been annoyed when Paul told the children he was angling for a promotion that would put an end to his travels. He might not get it, she’d pointed out, which had annoyed him because he thought she was being unsupportive. She wasn’t – she was simply struggling with the idea of him being at home a lot more and the inevitable increase in conversations about them having a third child.
‘Do you miss Daddy?’ Cara asked.
The question was unexpected, and it wrong-footed her. ‘Um, I … well, of course I do,’ she lied.
Cara beamed, as though nothing made her happier than to know her parents hankered after one another when they were apart.
Anita’s eyes pricked with tears and she quickly turned her face away.
‘Are you okay, Mummy?’
‘I’m fine, just a bit tired today.’
‘I’m not, I had the best sleep ever!’ Cara threw her arms out wide and twirled on the spot, giggling as she did. Anita laughed at her exuberance.
‘Wow, it looks like you really needed it,’ she chuckled.
The twirling stopped and Cara’s arms dropped to her sides. ‘I did,’ she said solemnly. ‘I’ve been very tired from being awake.’
Now she thought about it, Anita could see the dark half-moons usually visible beneath her daughter’s eyes were not as pronounced and she had colour in her cheeks. Was that just down to sleeping better though? she wondered. Maybe Cara had been sickening for something and that’s what had also been causing her mood swings? For a moment, Anita felt elated, then guilt pricked at her: what kind of mother was she to hope her child was ill as a means of justifying how badly she behaved?
Pushing the ugly thought from her mind, Anita gathered Cara into an embrace, smiling as the girl hugged her back with all her might. Their home life had been so strained lately that sometimes she struggled to be affectionate and with a pang she realised Cara may have picked up on that. Burying her face in her daughter’s hair, breathing in the comfortingly familiar scent of Vosene, Anita vowed to make sure Cara never doubted she was adored.
‘I love you, sweetheart,’ she said, her voice cracking.
‘I love you too, Mummy,’ came the muffled, joyful reply.
Anita was carving the lamb, ready for serving, when Karen and her family arrived. Brief kisses and hugs all round, then Paul ushered them out of the kitchen into the lounge to give her room to continue. It was only after a few moments she realised she wasn’t alone.
‘Brought some wine for a change,’ said Gary, easing two bottles of red out of a carrier bag and setting them down on the side. ‘Where’s the corkscrew?’
Anita frowned at him. Drinking alcohol during the day when the kids were about was something they never did as a rule, the legacy of her and Karen’s painful upbringing with a father who daily drank himself into rages and a mother who was blinkered to the effect it had on them.
‘I don’t want any,’ she said abruptly. ‘Karen won’t either.’
Gary shrugged. ‘It was her idea.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘Ask her. I think she’s decided it shouldn’t be you who has all the fun.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘You went out with your mate on Friday and didn’t invite her. Now, where’s that corkscrew?’
‘Top drawer beside the sink,’ said Anita huffily, not happy Karen was still moaning about her going out. It wasn’t like she did it every weekend.
Gary whistled under his breath as he found the utensil and set about opening both bottles. Anita was about to comment that one would be enough, but something about his manner stopped her and as she resumed carving the meat, her hands trembled slightly. Her brother-in-law’s presence in the kitchen was making her uncomfortable and she wished he’d go next door to join the others.
‘Wine glasses?’
She tilted her head to the right, her hands otherwise occupied with knife and carving fork. ‘In that cupboard.’
He moved past her to open the cupboard door, still whistling. Then he filled a glass to the rim and proffered it to her.
She shook her head. ‘No thanks.’
‘Just have a sip.’
‘I really don’t want any.’
‘Come on, it’ll help you relax. I know you’ve had a tough week, with Paul being away.’ He said it so soothingly that Anita found herself parting her lips as he held the glass to them. As she swallowed down the mouthful of wine, she realised he was standing so close she could feel the warmth of his breath upon her face and was uncomfortably reminded of another moment when they had been alone like this and a line was crossed.
‘Stop,’ she said, pulling away. She put the knife and carving fork down with a clatter and wiped her hands on a tea towel.
Gary grinned at her. ‘I don’t know what you mean––’
Lisa coming into the kitchen just then was a timely interruption.
Gary’s expression hardened as he clocked the mutinous look on his stepdaughter’s face. ‘What’s up with you?’ he asked.
She said nothing, but glowered at him.
‘Dinner won’t be long,’ Anita told her, hoping to break the tension. ‘Cara and I’ve made pavlova for afters, your favourite.’
Lisa turned her death beam on her aunt. ‘I don’t want any.’
‘Don’t be so rude,’ Gary admonished.
‘It’s okay,’ said Anita. ‘Let’s not make a big deal out of it. There’s ice cream in the freezer for those who don’t want it.’
Lisa stomped out of the room.
‘What’s all that about?’ Anita asked Gary, who shrugged.
‘Beats me.’
Karen did want the wine and by the time the pavlova was brought to the table by Cara with a cheery ‘Ta-da!’ she was on her third glass. It put Anita on edge to see her sister becoming tipsy – what was going on with her to make her want to drink like this? The obvious answer was the enmity between her husband and daughter, but Lisa was being fine with her mum, responding to Karen’s comments with smiles. It was only when she turned her gaze to Gary that her demeanour became brittle.
It was a bit of a squeeze around the table with all eight of them seated and Anita didn’t like the fact Gary had plonked himself down in the chair next to hers so they were forced to sit arm against arm. She liked it even less when he turned to her and asked how her job was going, when he knew full well what the answer was.
‘I resigned, remember,’ she answered him in a tight voice.
‘Oh yeah, I forgot. Karen did say. But why did you leave again?’
‘I felt like a change.’
Paul, at the head of the table and matching Karen drink for drink, butted in. ‘Her boss took liberties, that’s what. All that extra work she suddenly expected Neet to do for no more money.’ He took a slug of his wine. ‘I told Neet to quit back at Easter, but she wouldn’t listen.’
Anita nodded awkwardly to endorse the lie, yet contrary to Paul’s interpretation, it had been an easy job – her duties included a little light cleaning (an actual cleaner came in twice a week), running errands, such as taking packages to the post office, providing access for tradesman and deliveries, picking up groceries additional to the weekly shop Nina did, putting out the rubbish and arranging flowers and taking care of indoor plants. She was employed five days a week around school hours, so it had been the perfect gig, plus she got to see how the other half lived. Nina and her husband owned a seven-bedroom house on one of the most exclusive streets in Heldean, their son was privately educated and Oxbridge-bound in a year’s time and Mr Lawler had a job in the City that saw his monthly pay reach five figures. Anita and Paul considered themselves comfortably off, but compared to her former employer, they were impoverished.
Sometimes she would stand in the Lawlers’ kitchen and pretend the house was hers. It was a ment
al escape from her reality living in Parsons Close and in her fantasy life she had no children and a husband who didn’t want them either. She tried to rationalise that didn’t mean she didn’t want Cara and Matty now – it was simply her subconscious demanding a break from being a parent and for that she blamed the societal shift of the past few years that now insisted parents put the needs of their children first.
She would never dare admit it to anyone else, but she longed for the halcyon days of the previous decades when children were ushered outside to play first thing in the morning and told to return only when they were hungry, and when relatives admonished you for raising a weakling if you praised your kids, instead of hinting you were a bad mother for not. Hers was the first generation of mothers expected to be hands-on all the time and it left her feeling drained and frustrated. Her pedestrian marriage only amplified the discontent she felt standing in Nina Lawler’s kitchen, until she’d found the most unexpected way to distract herself.
‘I thought you left because of a row,’ said Gary.
Anita faltered. What exactly had Karen told him? Then she caught herself, remembering she had been economical with the truth when she’d told Karen why she’d left the job as well, so she did not need to worry about what Gary knew. Karen liked to think they shared everything as sisters, but it was far from the case.
‘We did row, because of the extra duties she wanted to foist on me.’ Desperate to change the subject, Anita looked around for inspiration and her gaze settled on her niece. ‘Thanks again for babysitting on Friday, Lisa. We’d love you to do it again.’
‘Not while there’s a ghost in your house,’ the teenager snickered.
Paul laughed. ‘A ghost?’
‘That’s what Cara reckons.’
All eyes landed on Cara, but she kept hers trained on the contents of her dessert bowl. Anita could see the spoon in her hand was trembling.
‘Cara reckons she’s heard a ghost tapping on the walls and creeping up and down your hallway.’
Anita exchanged a bemused look with her husband. This was the first they’d heard of it, yet it also didn’t surprise her that Cara had come up with a fantastical story to impress her cousin – she had a vivid imagination and would come up with the most elaborate stories while playing make-believe with her toys. Then there was Michael, the imaginary friend who Anita was freaked out by when Cara would say he was standing right beside her.
‘When did you hear the noises, sweetheart?’ she asked.
Cara looked up from her bowl and Anita was taken aback to see how frightened she looked.
‘In the middle of the night, when everyone’s asleep.’
Paul laughed and Karen joined in. ‘You’re probably dreaming it,’ said her aunt.
‘I’m not. The noise wakes me up.’
‘I bet you were still asleep and you just thought it had,’ said Paul airily, topping up his glass and Karen’s, then passing the bottle to Gary. It was the second bottle and it was almost drained. ‘Might have to open one from our stash,’ he grinned sloppily at Anita, clearly relishing the unexpected daytime drinking session.
She raised an eyebrow disapprovingly, gave a quick shake of her head, then reverted her attention to Cara.
‘The noise woke you up? When was this?’
‘It’s happened a few times.’
Anita swallowed hard. Cara was being very convincing. The others were all ears.
‘I’ve seen him too. I crept to the top of the stairs one night and saw him moving in the shadows in the hall. He was mumbling to himself.’
All the grown-ups apart from Anita chuckled at that.
‘You never told me that,’ said Lisa accusingly.
Cara stared at her defiantly. ‘So?’
‘You’re making it up,’ said the older cousin. ‘You told me you’d only heard noises, now you reckon you’ve heard him speak? You’re a liar.’
Cara jumped to her feet, her cheeks mottling. ‘I am not! He lives in the shadows downstairs, and he taps and bangs and he makes the house go cold!’
Anita reached out to her daughter, fearing she was on the cusp of an almighty tantrum that would take hours to burn out.
‘It’s okay, honey. Don’t get upset.’
‘She called me a liar, but I’m not making it up, I’m not!’
Lisa couldn’t help herself. ‘Yes, you are.’ Then she shot Anita a look. ‘Everyone in this house lies!’
Anita had no time to process the remark before Cara let out a howl of anger. Then she picked up the quarter-full gravy boat that hadn’t been cleared from the table yet and flung it in a wide arc so the liquid splashed across everyone sitting opposite and the gravy boat itself fell to the floor and smashed. Matty and Ryan both screamed and burst into tears.
Paul reacted first, jumping to his feet and grabbing Cara by the upper arm to yank her away from the table. She was going to her room, he shouted, and she could bloody well stay up there for the rest of the day while she thought about what she’d just done. A livid Gary nodded approvingly as he pulled Ryan onto his lap to comfort him.
Using their serviettes, Lisa and Karen began wiping the gravy off themselves and a sobbing Matty. Anita knew she should say something to calm her son, but she couldn’t drag her gaze away from the wallpaper behind their heads, where blobs of Bisto arced across it like muddy brown blood.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Lisa
Lunch at an abrupt end, Karen and Gary decided not to stick around for coffee as they usually did and walked Ryan and Lisa back to theirs. Lisa went ahead with her brother, but they were near enough to their parents still for her to make out snatches of their furiously whispered conversation.
‘Can you imagine either of ours doing that?’
‘I’d have done more than just send her to her room …’
‘I swear she’s getting worse …’
‘Anita babies her too much …’
‘Bloody ghosts? I’ve heard it all now …’
‘She did look scared …’
‘She’s wrong in the head. I’ve always thought it and don’t pretend like you haven’t too. The way she stares at people is creepy …’
‘She is a bit intense, I’ll give you that …’
‘She needs to see someone and I don’t mean that old codger of a GP …’
Ryan stopped in his tracks and swung round, prompting Lisa to do the same. ‘Are you talking about Cara?’ he asked.
Karen, eyes glazed from drinking, quickly pasted on a smile. ‘Oh no, just someone at work that Daddy knows.’
Lisa rolled her eyes. Even Ryan wouldn’t buy that. But her little brother did, or rather his mind immediately switched to matters more pressing for a six-year-old. ‘I didn’t get to eat my pudding.’
Karen held out her hand for him to take. ‘Well, let’s rectify that once we’re back home and changed out of these mucky clothes. How about a big bowl of ice cream?’
‘Raspberry ripple?’ asked Ryan hopefully.
‘I think there’s some left.’
The pair of them walked ahead and Gary fell into step with Lisa, which annoyed her intensely as she had nothing to say to him right now.
‘Why didn’t you tell us about Cara’s ghost story after you babysat?’
She shrugged.
‘She’s obviously making it up, like she made up her imaginary friend.’
Lisa was in no mood to engage with her stepdad, but on the other hand, she was desperate to discuss Cara. She wrestled with the dilemma for a minute, until the desire to spill her guts trumped her desire to ignore him for being an idiot.
‘She thought Michael was real and now she thinks the ghost is real,’ she said.
‘She’s making it up for attention,’ said Gary. ‘It’s what kids her age do.’
‘Did I?’
‘No, not like Cara does. But you used to say funny stuff to make people take notice of you,’ he smiled.
‘Do you really think she’s wrong in the head?’ Lisa
asked. ‘I heard you say it to Mum just now.’
Gary frowned. ‘What have I told you about earwigging conversations between adults that have nothing to do with you?
That made her blood boil. ‘Why, worried what I might hear?’
‘No, it’s just rude.’
‘You should be worried,’ she blurted out, unable to stop herself. ‘I know all sorts.’
Gary’s pace slowed and she hung back too, not wanting her mum to get wind of what they were talking about.
‘Why should I be worried, Lees?’
She hated it when he abbreviated her name. He only did it when he was trying to be all matey and win her round. Look at him now, all smiles, like there was nothing wrong.
‘I could tell Mum,’ she spat.
Now he appeared genuinely puzzled, which threw her. ‘Honestly, Lees, I have no idea what all this is about. Why don’t you just tell me?’
Did he really have no idea she saw what he did at that party last year? Seeing the confusion on his face as their eyes met, a similar shade of brown even though they weren’t biologically related, Lisa hesitated. Once she said it, there would be no taking it back – and what if she was wrong? Things might never be the same between them again and she wasn’t sure if she could bear that. She was only cross with him because she loved him.
She let out the breath she’d been holding in. ‘It doesn’t matter. It’s not important.’
Gary stared at her beadily. ‘Are you sure?’
‘I am.’ She wasn’t really, but the fallout would be too immense, and despite how annoyed she was with him, she didn’t want him and her mum not to be together.
‘You know you can talk to me about anything, don’t you? I’m always here for you and I always will be.’
She nodded, the lump in her throat making it difficult to swallow, and when he put his arm around her shoulders, she didn’t pull away.
‘Do you really think Cara’s not right in the head?’ she asked again as they continued along the pavement.
Gary looked sheepish. ‘I shouldn’t have said it like that. What I meant was she’s always away with the fairies, like she’s not paying attention to the real world. A dolly daydreamer, as your nan says.’
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